Tokyo's Hidden Faces: Urban Daily Life and Gardens at Oku-Asakusa and Nezu Museum

When you walk around Tokyo, you realize that the city isn't just interested in building taller and bigger. Concerns about how to leave memories of the city and how to create new experiences for people staying and walking are permeating everywhere.

While Azabudai Hills shows a new landscape of Tokyo by combining green space, pedestrians, culture and commerce in a high-rise mixed-use development, Oku-Asakusa continues the time of Tokyo people by protecting and cultivating old alleys, buildings, and lifestyle.

If you add the Nezu Museum of Art, where traditional gardens and modern architecture exquisitely coexist, today's Tokyo, which was built by building new and leaving behind old things, and layering the modern on top of the old, looks even more different. This is because it contrasts with our standardized reality with an increasing number of empty shopping malls, and comes as a fundamental question about the value of space.

◇ The inner life of Tokyo seen at Okuasakusa

In Japanese, 'Oku' means deep or inside. Asakusa is one of Japan's representative tourist destinations and is a bustling place with a constant flow of tourists all year round. Oku-Asakusa is literally another face located inside Asakusa.

As you walk a little further into the streets where tourists are constantly flocking around Sensoji Temple, the atmosphere soon changes. There are fewer souvenir shops and flashy signs that attract tourists, and instead there are small bars, izakayas, old houses, and quiet alleys where local people come and go.

This place is closer to where Tokyo people actually live rather than a Tokyo decorated for tourists. While walking down the alley in the morning, even the recyclable waste left on the side of the road caught my attention. Empty liquor bottles that looked like they had come from a bar the night before were neatly placed in a plastic box. It wasn't something that was piled up haphazardly. Each bottle was organized in an orderly manner. Even though it was an unremarkable scenery, it suited it strangely well. The temperament of Tokyo people who value order in their lives seemed to be evident even in these trivial scenes.

The same goes for the fish cake restaurant I visited late at night. A few people were sitting side by side drinking at a small bar. Although the young customers' voices occasionally rose, the atmosphere seemed more focused on tasting the fish cakes in front of them one by one rather than drinking alcohol. The sight of people slowly choosing and eating soup-soaked radish, eggs, fish cakes, and konjac showed a leisurely pace of everyday life, different from the excitement of tourist attractions.

The next place we visited was a little more unique. It was a restaurant where meat, bean sprouts, etc. were placed on tiles and served cooked. The meat was cooked on the hot tiles, and a fragrant smell came from the host soaked in the oil.

The owner, who is from Fukuoka, said he came up with this menu because he wanted to introduce the food he had in his hometown to people in Tokyo. According to his explanation, it originated from the way people in the Satsuma region used to grill meat using tiles from houses dismantled after a war. It was interesting to see the way local memories and stories were cooked together on a single tile.

These small shops, food, and alley scenery come together to create Okuasakusa.

◇ Gorgeous Asakusa… The neat life behind it all

The next day, while walking back toward Asakusa to catch the train, I came across an unexpected scene. At that time, a festival held to revitalize the region was in full swing. The street instantly turned into a festival stage. Brazilian dancers passed by dancing samba with dazzling gestures, followed by a procession of women dressed in traditional Japanese costumes. Music and the sound of drums filled the streets, and the procession seemed like it would never end. Asakusa, which is usually crowded with tourists, became even more noisy and colorful on this day.

As I looked at that scene, I suddenly remembered Okuasakusa from the night before. If the colorful festivals, crowds, and tourists' cameras are the face of Asakusa, Oku Asakusa is a place that shows the daily life hidden behind that face. If Asakusa is what Tokyo wants to show to the outside world, Oku Asakusa reveals the inner city of the city where people actually eat, drink, sleep, and wake up in the morning.

The accommodation I stayed at in Okuasakusa also suited that atmosphere well. It was an old Japanese machiya. I felt lucky to be able to stay in a traditional house like this in the middle of Tokyo. There is a living room on the first floor, and if you go up the stairs, you find a bedroom.

A small terrace continued outside the bedroom, and bamboo was growing in a narrow garden next to the wooden deck. On the other side was a cypress bathtub. After a day in Tokyo, I washed my body with cool water there. When I left the door open, the outside air came straight into the bathroom.

As I was soaking in the water while watching the bamboo leaves swaying, I felt a strange sense of liberation.

The way to understand Tokyo is not just to climb up to a high observatory and look down at the panoramic view of the huge city. Sometimes, looking at empty liquor bottles neatly placed in an alley in the morning, meeting people drinking at the bar of a small fish cake restaurant, and feeling the wind blowing through the bamboo trees in an old machiya allows you to understand the city much more closely.

Just a few steps from the busy Aoyama Street, the noise of the city soon subsides, and the energy of old forests and gardens surrounds you. If you walk along the long corridor next to the bamboo trees that line up like a wall and turn left, the entrance to the museum will appear. It is a moment to quietly draw a line from the busy city center outside. The museum building was designed by Kengo Kuma. Although it is a modern building with long eaves, a dark roof, and glass and stone, it does not stand out at all in front of an old Japanese garden. Rather, it looks like architecture that took a step back for the garden. The building does not overwhelm nature, but sits quietly between trees, stones, water, and light.

◇ A garden like a landscape painting in the busy city… Nezu Art Museum

Nezu Art Museum, located in the center of Aoyama, Tokyo, is a space that shows another way in which Tokyo deals with old things. While Okuasakusa continues the city by preserving old alleys and lifestyles, here modern architecture has been carefully layered on top of an old Japanese garden.

The real charm of this place begins with the garden behind the building. It is not a flat, manicured park-style garden. The road goes down and then up again, winding along small ponds and streams.

Between the trees, stone lanterns and old Buddha statues and sculptures appear and then disappear again. Because the garden has different heights, the scenery can completely change with just a few steps. It feels like walking directly into a well-painted landscape painting. What particularly captured my heart was an old boat sitting by the stream. An old boat that didn't look like it was going to leave anytime soon was sitting still at the water's edge. The rich greenery, water, garden embracing time, and Kengo Kuma's architecture not far away went well together.

After walking around the garden for a while, I went into the museum cafe. After waiting in line, I got a seat where I could sit alone. I ordered the cheapest cake for 800 yen.

Outside the window, the forest and garden I had walked through just before unfolded. I slowly ate a piece of cake and did nothing for a while. I walked through a landscape painting in the middle of Aoyama and ate a piece of cake while looking at the forest.

In that short period of time, complex Tokyo disappeared. Comfort in travel may not come from grandiose things. Sometimes all you need is a corner of an old garden, an old boat by the water, and an 800 yen piece of cake to eat while sitting alone.

※ This article can also be found in the October 2026 issue of the monthly ‘Yonhap Imagine’ published by Yonhap News.