Photo by Eva Bronzini via Pexels

 

Japan’s Cat’s Meow

National Cat Day in Japan has a special date — 22nd of February or 2-2-2, which can be read as “nyan, nyan, nyan,” the Japanese onomatopoeic words for “meow, meow, meow.”

This is a playful start to our journal, our tribute to cats, whose relationship with Japan is  layered, fascinating and centuries deep. Cats have appeared in folklore, woodblock prints, paintings, scrolls and novels, and they keep pouncing back in contemporary art, pop culture and subculture. Rarely neutral in character, they have been protectors, narrators, comrades, mascots, and — at times — something more unsettling.

From unnerving magical creatures to endearing fluffy companions, the cats in Japan have so many stories to tell, we can only touch on a few.

"Cats Suggested as the Fifty-Three Stations of the Tokaido" by Utagawa Kuniyoshi  Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

Famed Cats in Japanese Art

Domestic cats are believed to have been introduced to Japan as early as the 6th century, likely brought from China to protect Buddhist texts from the destructive nature of rodents. By the Edo Period (1603-1868), they were common in urban areas, valued as rat and mice catchers, with the lucky few pampered as pets of the aristocracy.

Many 19th-century woodblock print artists frequently depicted cats, in particular Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1797/1798–1861), who enthusiastically embraced them in his artwork. Not only did he portray them often, but he also kept his own cats at his studio, and even held funeral services for them when they passed.

Kuniyoshi’s famed “Cats Suggested as the Stations of the Tōkaidō,” reimagines the 53 stops along the famous Tokaido road entirely through the playful poses of calicos, tabbies, tuxedos and others. Instead of landscapes, cats stretch, curl, arch and twist themselves into visual puns. Their tails form strokes, backs create curves as their limber actions echo the names or characteristics of station towns. Ishibe, for example, sounds similar to “mijime” the word for “miserable,” and its spotted feline substitute appears unhappy, scrawny and ragged. Oiso, meanwhile, sounds like “oishii,” “delicious,” and its cat bounds off excitedly with a bright blue fish in its jaws, while Nihombashi, known for its fish trade, has its feline greedily pawing at two pieces of dried tuna.

"Shironeko" by Hiroaki Shotei Takahashi  Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

 

Among other woodblock print works, the cats by Hiroaki Shotei Takahashi (1871-1945), a shin hanga (New Print), are some of the finest. Though only a subset of his work, Takahashi’s cats are whimsical, full of character and expression. They play, stretch, hiss with arched backs, or simply observe its onlooker with contemplative eyes. Unlike many of his shin hanga peers, Takahashi subtly shifted from caricature to realism, giving his feline portraits three-dimensional perspectives, highlighting their features with negative space, light and balance. But, like his predecessors, Takahashi remained true to his subject, ensuring the observed personality and humour of cats shone through.

 

"Nekomata" by Utagawa Kunisada  Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Fearsome Felines of Folklore

Though many of Japan’s historical cats were playful, witty or humorous, not all were benevolent.

In Japanese folklore’s realm of otherworldly creatures and spirits, some elderly cats can transform into supernatural entities known as yokai. There are several cat versions of these mischievous beings, likely characters that developed from observing cat behaviour. The way they can slink around silently, how their eyes can glimmer in the dark, their seeming intelligence and their, at times, complete indifference to human attention or affection.

The bakeneko is not to be trifled with. A cat said to gain magical powers with age, it can walk on two legs when it desires, speak its mind and shape-shift. If mistreated by its owner, it’s a vengeful yokai that can curse an entire family for generations. Even more powerful is the nekomata, a frightening feline with a creepy split tail. Another elderly shapeshifter, the nekomata is far more malicious. When angered, it can summon fire with its two tails to hurl fireballs, and is believed to not only animate and puppeteer corpses, but also devour and impersonate its owners to take over their households.

But not all folklore cats or yokai are evil — the delightful Cat Bus of Ghibli’s “My Neighbor Totoro,” after all, is a bakeneko. The manekineko is also a lucky feline — a talisman to harbour good fortune, particularly for businesses. If its right paw is raised, it beckons good economic fortune; if its left paw is raised, it ushers in people and love. A symbol born from folklore tales of loyal cats protecting their owners and bringing them riches, the manekineko is a popular figurine, often seen displayed in shops, restaurants, other businesses and in homes. It’s also the subject of “Lucky Cat,’ by Mio Yamada, a NiMi Projects’ founder, whose love of cats has definitely influenced a few of our product choices.

 

 

Photo by Henk Mohabie via Pexels

Kitties in Popular Culture

It’s impossible to talk about cats of Japan, without mentioning Hello Kitty, created by Sanrio in 1974. To call Hello Kitty a cat, however, is somewhat amusingly seen as borderline offensive to her avid fans.

According to Sanrio, Hello Kitty is a little girl, not a cat. Named Kitty White and born in London, she walks upright, attends school, and has a twin sister. Yes, she resembles a cat — she has ears, whiskers and paws. But her backstory, Sanrio tells us, insists she is a human. In fact, she even has her own pet kitten, which is definitely a cat. This hasn’t stopped Hello Kitty from being possibly the most famous modern “cat” from Japan.

Doraemon, Fujiko F. Fujio’s well-loved, blue and round-headed manga and anime character is also a cat — though, also, not quite. The robotic companion from the 22nd century would have looked like a cat had his ears not been chewed off by a mechanical mouse while he was being manufactured. Being earless didn’t affect his magic, marsupial-like pouch full of wondrous gadgets, though it does explain his comical fear of mice.

Tama the station master at Kishi station. Photo by Kirin7739, CC-BY-4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

 

There are plenty of other cats in popular culture — Luna, Artemis and Diana of “Sailor Moon,” “Totoro’s” Cat Bus, “Kiki’s Delivery Service’s” Jiji, Nyanko Sensei of “Natsume’s Book of Friends,” Turbo Granny of “Dadandan,” Pokemon’s Meowth, Pusheen, the list goes on. But there has to be a special mention of the real-life cat celebrity Tama, the feline station master of Kishi Station in Kinokawa, Wakayama Prefecture.

In 2007, Tama, an adopted stray who loved to greet passengers at Kishi Station, was bestowed the title of Station Master. She won a year’s worth of cat food, a gold name tag and a custom-made station master’s hat —  all of which led to her fame. When news spread of her appointment, the Kishigawa Line saw a significant uptick in passengers, all keen to see her in the fur. Her growing popularity led to ladder of purrmotions — from Station Master to Super Station Master, to a feline knighthood, to Operating officer, and finally to Honorary President of Wakayama Electric Rail.

Sadly Tama passed on June 22, 2015. Enshrined at a local Shinto cat shrine, she still receives visitors paying their respects. Her deputy, Nitama (Tama2), took on her duties, followed by Suntama (Tama3) and others who still take shifts greeting passengers at Kishi and Idakiso stations.

 

Left: Photo by Ambam Gorilla via Pexels. Right "I am a Cat" by Natsume Soseki  Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Catty Observers of Society

Japan’s definitive literary cat has to be the narrator of “I Am a Cat” by Natsume Soseki (1867-1916).

Published in 1905, “I Am a Cat,” follows a nameless cat as it observes its academically inclined owner and his absurd social circle. This sounds whimsical, and it is darkly comic, but it is, in fact, Soseki’s insightful critique of Meiji Era intellectual life and its anxieties during Japan’s modernisation.

The cat, who bemoans the fact his master can’t even be bothered to name him, proves to be as perceptive as he’s unimpressed by human beings. Through his detached commentary and conversations with other neighbourhood felines, the novel mocks the pseudo-intellectualism of his owner and cohort, while exploring the folly, hypocrisy and mundanity of human existence.

In contemporary fiction, Haruki Murakami’s felines are often quiet driving forces of human narrative. 

The cats of “Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage,” drift in and out of domestic scenes — always watchful, self-contained, unimpressed. Elsewhere, they often appear as thresholds between the everyday and the surreal, signalling that reality is about to bend. In “Kafka on the Shore,” cats speak, with only one character, Nakata, able to understand them. Lost cats become catalysts for violence, metaphysical shifts, and strange journeys. In “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle,” the disappearance of a cat triggers a narrative that gradually unravels into war memory, psychological excavation, and parallel realities.

Murakami may not have professed any particular significance of cats in his work, but the writer’s fans can’t help but notice that they are mentioned in almost every single one of his novels.

 

 

Cats of Aoshima, Photo by Hima Kakiko CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

An Island of Cats

Today, most pet cats in Japan are house cats, content to remain indoors, view the outside world through windows and enjoy the private attention of their owners. Strays are quite often regularly looked after by compassionate locals, some taking residence in temple grounds or parks and considered “chiiki neko”or “community cats.”

The most famed of these communities is Aoshima, Japan’s tiny Cat Island in Ehime Prefecture, where around 80 community cats wander freely, dutifully cared for by a handful of human residents. Though the remote island receives visitors — mostly cat enthusiasts and the curious — there are no curated attractions. No branded experiences. Just docks, wooden houses, sea air — and cats, everywhere. 

The story of Aoshima, though, is a little melancholy. Cats were brought to the island to control rodents in what was once a lively fishing community. But, like many remote regions of Japan, Aoshima’s younger residents gradually left for cities, leaving the elderly and their feline friends. Now there are perhaps only four people living on the island, all caring for the cats that remain.

Once there were over 200 community cats, now around 80 live in the sanctuary, napping on concrete steps, gathering by the harbour, ambling across the island.

 

 

Stray cats of Japan, photo by Mio Yamada, NiMi Projects

A Final, Unusual Purrspective

From Sōseki’s sharp social critique and Murakami’s metaphysical thresholds to the aging residents of Aoshima, cats always seems to see what we humans often miss.

Kengo Kuma, a self-proclaimed cat admirer, recently explored that same notion for a collaborative project with Tokyo-based design studio Takram. “A Plan for Tokyo, 2020: Five Purr-fect Points for Feline Architecture,” is an unexpected research project from the architect known as Japan’s Great Master of Wa. 

Kengo Kuma invites us to see the sprawling metropolis through the eyes of agile cat residents. By tracking the movements of free-roaming cats in Kagurazaka, he explores how the creatures navigate space — their preference to ignore streets, boundaries and sidewalks in favour of hidden paths, narrow gaps, and sunlit corners. Instead of approaching architectural planning from top-down, as architects usually do, the project starts from ground level — the low perspective of an animal. He investigates patterns of movement and the sensory engagement that cats experience — the things humans often overlook.

Using Takram’s 3D visualisations of the research, Kuma came up with five feline-inspired points to improve architecture for humankind.

1. Hole: Inspired by cats’ habit of hiding in boxes, he reviews using gaps and spaces as focal points of architecture.

2. Particles: Similarly, he sees breaking down large solid structures into smaller components to create gaps, soften barriers that allow light to seep through.

3. Oblique: He considers the use of non-vertical and non-horizontal structures to create more expansive, natural aesthetics, inspired by the way cats happily navigate angled roofs and uneven terrain.

4. Softness: Taking cues from cats’ preferences for natural and soft materials, he affirms his own preference for using wood and membrane roofs.

5. Time: Addresses aging architecture, noted by cats’ fondness of revisiting the same places, he promotes recycling materials and designing buildings that can be disassembled and repaired.

Kengo Kuma’s “Five Purr-fect Points for Feline Architecture,” sounds whimsical, but is perceptive and insightful by nature. Just like cats.

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See Takako Copeland's delightful Cat themed cards and our beloved Angle Meow Mug at NiMi Projects!

Bring a little Japanese Cat Culture into the Home.

The beckoning manekineko, one of Japan’s most recognisable feline forms, comes in many styles, with a plethora of lucky meanings. Here are just a few, should you be thinking of finding one for the home.

• Right paw raised: attracts wealth
  
  
• Left paw raised: attracts customers or friends
  
  
• Both paws raised: offers protection and good luck
  
  
• Red Cats: ward off illness and brings good health
  
  
• Gold Cats: invite financial success
  
  
• White Cats: signify purity and general happiness
  
  
• Pink Cats: encourage romantic luck and good relationships
  
  
• Blue Cats: promote safety, peace and harmony
  
  
• Green Cats: encourages academic success
  
  
  
  
  

  Page of "Lucky Cat" by Mio Yamada, courtesy of Quadrille Publishing