Yesterday I made my first visit to the famous Miho Museum (ミホミュージアム) in the mountains of southern Shiga Prefecture, an hour or so out of Kyoto.

There are two things that must be said when talking about this museum:

The first is that a visit is a spectacular experience. I can't begin to tell you the high level of sense and style the designers have in displaying works of art. In particular, the current “special collection” on display until the middle of this month, of what I can best describe as “a bunch of old red plates”, is jaw-dropping eye-popping bathing-in-the-light-of-angels spec·tac·u·lar.

Photography was not allowed and so I can't even begin to show it, but even if photography were allowed, no photo could do the interactive 3D experience justice. The folks who designed the display are masters of light and sightlines and presentation, and their work oozes with class and style.

When I actually stopped to read the details of some 1,000-year-old plate or bowl I found interest in imagining who might have made it, and what kind of hands it may have passed through on the way to the display case in front of me, but much more than that I was in awe of how these objects were displayed, and my jaw dropped at every turn in the twisty many-roomed gallery.

But I'm getting ahead of myself... first, we have to arrive. From the parking lot you can walk the 600m (0.4 miles) to the museum, or hop onto a golf-cart type shuttle. I was with Paul Barr and Stéphane Barbery, and we chose to walk.

The initial part of the road is, I'm sure, spectacular during cherry-blossom season, but it was quite dull for us:

Eventually you come to the opening of a tunnel...

The lead photo is from inside the tunnel. Here's a similar one, with the white balance set for the incandescent lights lining the tunnel instead of for the sunlight splashing in...

Eventually the curve leads you to see the museum in the distance...

... but before you arrive to it you first must cross a bridge supported by thick, photogenically-arranged cables...

The thick cables terminate into an industrial-looking gridwork on the outer edges of the bridge, a theme (as we'll see) carried throughout the whole museum. (The industrial vibe reminds me of some of the photos on “A Visit to Suntory's Kyoto Beer Brewery”.)

At last we approach the museum entrance...

At this point one must dutifully mention that the museum was designed by that Louvre pyramid guy; in this case the look mimics traditional thatched-roofed farmhouses of the region, such as these seen on the road near the museum:

The inside is done tastefully. Here's the foyer for the special-collections wing:

The glass ceiling is supported on a framework similar to that of the bridge, and this theme is carried out throughout the various wings of the building.

Let's go back down the random staircase to take a closer look at that 1,600-year-old mosaic on the floor...

Just six little stones that look like they've been taken from the parking lot protect a 3rd-4th century floor mosaic depicting Dyonysos's discovery of Ariadne on Naxos (whatever that is). Really, have you ever seen a museum so devoid of things that detract from the experience of why you're there in the first place?

If you look closely at the big version of the photo you get when you click through, you can sort of make it out the description card on the bumper closest to Paul, and even harder to make out is a “no touch” symbol next to it, but otherwise there are no signs or warnings of any kind visible in the shot.

Simple clean understated first-class class. The whole place is like this.

Like the special collection area, photography was not allowed in the permanent exhibits either, but here's a shot from just outside the “Egypt” room:

When you walk inside, and take a sharp right, on the wall is a small poster that, though it's not apparent until you really pay attention, serves as an overall description for the entire room. At the bottom is a small “no photography” symbol, and that's the full extent of the “no photography” warnings at this place... one small sticker on an easy-to-miss poster in each room.

It's so easy to miss that Paul and I had looked around and decided that photography must be allowed in this room, before eventually noticing the sticker. There was no staff anywhere nearby to ask. We decided that the sticker was meant to convey “no photography in this room” instead of the at-first-glance “no photography of this poster”, so we refrained.

It seems clear to me that they don't care whether you take photos of the artworks... they care whether your taking photos would disrupt others' enjoyment of the artworks. Perhaps they had trouble in the past, but even if not, I can easily imagine the clickity-click of even reserved, respectful photographers would disrupt the atmosphere.

Later, at the larger restaurant near the parking lot, we had another, larger lunch just because it had such a good reputation...

It was very good.

So, at the beginning of this article I said that there were two thing that must be said when talking about this museum, but I've so far mentioned only one.

The second is that the museum is owned and run by a religious movement that, according rumors I've heard from everyone I've ever heard about the museum from, is a cult. I've heard that it's similar to scientology in that it has a pyramid-like scheme for “advancement” and that the ultimate goal seems to be extracting money from its believers.

I have no idea whether that's true. As far as I can tell (and I was on the lookout for it from the moment we arrived), there's not the slightest hint of cult or “spiritual movement” at the museum... it's a museum 100% and that's that. I recall that on one poster I saw the founder of the museum's name mentioned, which is perhaps relevant because that lady also started the religious movement (cult?), but at no time on the museum grounds did I ever even see the “religious movement” mentioned by name, implied, or even hinted at. Ever.

Yet here we have a private museum that rumors say cost a billion US dollars to build and curate. And that's not all... looking out the window you're meant with a sci-fi like view of the church off in the distance...

That's a lot of land in between.

Even more strange is that the Wikipedia entries for the museum and its owning religion make no mention of any kind of “cult” status or even rumors.

I've been told that the religion has three main tenets: eat only healthy food, appreciate art, and that people's spirits can heal one another. If this is true (that these indeed are the tenets), the first is well represented in the lunches we ate, and the second one was apparent everywhere.

I highly recommend a visit, but do check their calendar. Paul, who has been there a few times, said that it's normally quite crowded, and he was shocked (and pleasantly surprised) at how uncrowded it was yesterday.

Continued here...