Photo/Illutration The Statue of Magokoro towers over the central hall of Mitsukoshi department store in Tokyo’s Nihonbashi district. The piece was created in 1960 to mark the store’s 50th anniversary and is intended to represent the “magokoro” (sincerity) of Mitsukoshi. It’s said to be one of the largest wooden carvings in the world and made of 500-year-old cypress trees that grew on the Kyoto mountain where Kifune Shrine is located. (Photo by Lisa Vogt)

When I hear or see the word “magokoro,” I picture an advertisement of a person holding out a summer “ochugen” gift box with a smile. The word sent me down a rabbit hole and got me pondering, first about the difference between “kokoro” and magokoro, until I realized that kokoro runs the gamut from “yoi kokoro” (good heart) to “yokoshima na kokoro” (wicked heart). Magokoro is true heart.

Then, I got entangled in the question of what a true heart is, and this sent me on quite a quest. I think I’ve arrived at my take on it. Magokoro, or “makoto no kokoro,” is when a person’s thoughts, words and actions come from a sincere, pure place in the heart without any falsehoods, embellishments or calculations. It’s a pure desire to serve others. Period.

At the atrium on the first floor of Nihonbashi Mitsukoshi department store is the enormous, 11-meter-high and 6,750-kilogram Statue of Magokoro, carved from 500-year-old cypress trees that once stood on Mount Kibune in Kyoto Prefecture. The elaborately decorated and gorgeous celestial maiden, draped in fluttering robes and surrounded by swirling heavenly clouds, descends to the center of a flower accompanied by birds and flowers. Intricately carved and painted with mineral pigments, the colorful statue adorned with gold, platinum and jewels is jaw-droppingly divine.

Gengen Sato (1888-1963), a sculptor born into a family of shrine carvers, created it to commemorate the department store’s 50th anniversary in 1960. He studied in Paris under Antoine Bourdelle, a disciple of Auguste Rodin, and upon returning to Japan, started creating works influenced by his Japanese roots. He spent the last 10 years of his life, the culmination of his life’s work, on this celestial maiden.

I confess that initially, in the back of my mind, the richly colorful and almost extravagant statue’s name, Magokoro, didn’t quite sit right with me. The notion that I had held of true heart is a peeling off of facades and getting to the truth, the essence. Simplicity.
Then I realized the facades I had to peel off were my own. Magokoro means, I reiterate, the pure desire to serve others. It’s all on me--to have thought that dazzling might be problematic or impure in some way shines the light on the less-than-wholesomeness of my own soul.
Ending letters with “sincerely” should not be formulaic, and ochugen should be sent without any thought other than as a heartfelt gift.

With magokoro to you.

* * *

This article by Lisa Vogt, a Washington-born and Tokyo-based photographer, originally appeared in the July 28 issue of Asahi Weekly. It is part of the series “Lisa’s Things, Places and Events,” which depicts various parts of the country through the perspective of the author, a professor at Aoyama Gakuin University.

Related News