Kyoto, Japan

高桐院 (京都府京都市北区紫野大徳寺町)

“I reach the main building, slip off my shoes, and step up onto the veranda. What strikes me most, at once, is the transparent lack of space and at the same time how, astonishingly, it is translated into an inner imaginative spaciousness. It makes me feel as though I am going on stage, but rather a puppet theater than a real stage. Without shoes it is very quiet, walking on fresh tatami (with a fragrance like that of a kind of rice tea), under the low, bare wood ceiling. The walls of the room are only paper partitions, and on two sides the opaque paper forms large, solid panels, filled with marvelous and mysterious paintings. On the other two partitions, where the light enters, the paper is thin, supported by a grid of light wood that divides it into an infinity of small transparent squares. The fine, misty rain is light and delicate now, like fog or smoke, and the sky is an even light gray. The wet, morning air smells of wet leaves, wet earth.”

- William Corey