A stroll through Koenji
A relatively small district in Tokyo's western Suginami Ward, Koenji at first glance seems like any other metropolitan neighborhood, with its quiet residential streets and rows of crammed-together shops. Explore a little however, and you'll soon begin to feel the youthful, creative - and yes, eccentric - energy that sets this arty enclave of Tokyo apart.
While it in fact comes from one of the district's surprising number of temples, to many Japanese the name Koenji is synonymous with "sabukaru" or subcultures - the city's patchwork of distinct music and fashion tribes, many of whom have been drawn to the area's cafes, livehouses and vintage clothing stores ever since the hippie and punk waves of the 60s and 70s.
Largely left out of the construction boom that accompanied Japan's late 80s bubble period, Koenji's shabby-chic buildings have a retro feel to match the overall arty vibe, and a lack of visitor-friendly polish that sets it aside from the city's more touristy spots. Locals, for their part, like it just the way it is and have been fighting unwanted change for years - most recently in 2022, when protests erupted over plans to redevelop the area immediately north of Koenji Station.
To get a sense of this fascinating corner of the big city, I recently spent a very enjoyable day exploring some of its many highlights, from peaceful temple precincts to trendy cafes and even a bit of eclectic live music.
My day began at Koenji Station, reachable in around 20 minutes from Tokyo Station or from Shinjuku in just 6 on the JR Chuo Line. Leaving via the station's north exit, I made my first stop just 150 meters to the northwest at Shigekuniya 55 - a popular local bakery often ranked as one of the best in the city.
With many of the shops along Koenji's narrow streets and covered arcades still shuttered, I turned east, then south across the tracks to Shukuhozan Koenji, a temple of the Soto Zen school. Founded in 1555 at the center of what was then a sleepy farming town on the old Ome-Kaido highway, its fortunes rose thanks to the third Tokugawa shogun, Iemitsu (1604-1651), who became a regular visitor during hawking trips.
Ten minutes to the south along sleepy residential streets I stopped again at Saishoji, another Soto Zen temple in pleasant, leafy grounds. Like many of Koenji's temples, it was originally built elsewhere and relocated multiple times as Tokyo urbanized and continued to evolve - founded in 1574 close to what is now the Tokyo Imperial Palace, it was relocated first in 1612 to clear the way for a new samurai district, then again in 1677 before burning down during the Meiji Restoration and arriving at its current location in 1911.
Just a few minutes' walk from Saishoji and located within the same expanded cluster of temple buildings and burial plots, my last temple visit of the day was at Chozenji, belonging to the Nichiren school of Japanese Buddhism. Originally founded in 1590 in what is today Tokyo's Yanaka District, it also moved multiple times, arriving at its current location due to an expansion of the national railway line.
Intriguingly, little is known of its history during the Edo Period (1603-1868), possibly due to its association with the Fuju-fuse subsect, proscribed and persecuted by the samurai government over its insistence on the supremacy of religious over temporal law.
About 15 minutes to the west, I made my next stop at Mabashi Inari Jinja, an attractive little shrine with a long, sheltered approach, giving it the feel of somewhere you might stumble across in a quiet rural village. In fact, this is exactly what the surrounding area was until around 1923, when local farmers subdivided their land to make room for laborers and small merchants displaced by the Great Kanto Earthquake.
Apart from the very nice main building, two things to look out for within the shrine precinct are the storehouse, where several beautifully decorated portable shrines can be seen through big glass windows, and one of just three torii gates in Tokyo decorated with climbing and descending dragons.
Circling back towards the south side of Koenji Station, I made a quick visit to Koenji Hikawa Jinja. Rather than the main building however, I wanted to take a look at its tiny sub-shrine of Kisho Jinja, said to be the only shrine in Tokyo dedicated to the weather, and known to sharp-eyed anime fans from its appearance in the 2019 film "Weathering with you".
Founded during the Second World War by the Imperial Army's weather forecasting division, the shrine should technically have fallen under GHQ's 1945 directive banning state-sponsored shrines, but was quietly moved to its current location with no-one the wiser.
Leaving the shrine behind, I took a short walk over to the Pal covered arcade, running about 250 meters from the station's south entrance. It's along here and the surrounding streets where visitors can find many of the vintage stores the area is known for, from mid-sized boutiques to tiny holes in the wall, each with their own specialities and overall aesthetic.
Even without being especially (or in fact at all) au fait with the latest fashion trends, it was surprisingly fun just to duck in and out of the various stores, getting a sense of the different personalities on display while discreetly checking out the often sharp outfits of other customers.
Found at some of those same vintage stores as well as a range of stores with their own colorful and eclectic themes is a whole other family of goods with which Koenji is especially associated - the intriguing, if nebulous category of zakka. Lacking a direct English equivalent but typically translated as something like gmisc itemsh, these are perhaps better described as somewhere between accessories and lifestyle goods, combining some kind of useful function with a splash of kitschy style.
After spending some time exploring the more eye-catching stores immediately south of the station, I made a quick stop for lunch at Hattifnatt - a cute little cafe 250 meters from the station's north exit, with colorful wall-to-wall designs by the two-man art and design team Marini Monteany.
Feeling refreshed and keen to do some vinyl hunting, I retraced my steps to the Pal arcade area to check out two beloved local record stores with very different specializations if a similarly no-frills, enthusiast vibe: BE-IN RECORDS focuses on blues and classic rock with a special place set aside for British bands of the 60s and 70s, while the even more stripped-back Substore Base feels like a lost archive of the punk and metal movements, from the great to the obscure.
Crossing the tracks one last time, I passed under an archway directly across from the station marking the entrance to the Junjo Shopping Street. Sadly, some of the artier shops along here were shuttered on the day of my visit, but I did find some colorful pieces of street art and an adorable little shop called Nekonohaitai, its narrow floor plan crammed full of cat-related artworks and bric-a-brac.
Having spent a few hours now either exploring or standing around in stores, it was time for a bit of the universal cure for shopping fatigue - coffee and something sweet. Following the train tracks for about 200 meters to the east and crossing a main road, I made my next stop at RAD BROS CAFE, a chic, compact cafe known for its high quality coffee and beautifully presented cheesecakes.
This, I should add, was another of the day's outstanding finds, with lovely staff, a great selection of single-origin coffees and almost certainly one of the best slices of cheesecake I've ever had!
The street outside had already darkened by the time I left the cafe and took a short 5-minute stroll over to PI Stand, a stylish bistro and wine bar with a constantly changing menu of delicious pan-Asian small plates. Although quite light, my meal - red sea bream carpaccio with kumquat and coriander salsa, chicken and lamb meatballs with a rich peanut sauce and a tiny, adorable banh mi slider - somehow felt like perfect match for the neighborhood's creative feel, while I was an equally big fan of the little restaurant's pleasant staff and relaxed atmosphere.
Rounding off my time in Koenji, I made my last stop of the day at Inaoiza, one of the area's longest standing music venues, having been founded back in 1978. Squeezing in through the tiny front door, I immediately felt like I'd taken a step back in time in the best possible way - the warm, cozy atmosphere, the walls covered with old art prints, books and musical instruments, and best of all a friendly local audience that barely outnumbered the performers.
Taking to the stage that evening were one solo act - Nomura Masatake, a sweet, hippy-ish man singing earnest ballads with an acoustic guitar and an autoharp - and Kilkenny Bound, an Irish folk duo with guitar and flute. While very different, each made perfect sense in the context of this charmingly odd little venue, and brought my day in this part of town to a perfect close.
