The main gate of Engaku-ji, in a print done by Shiro Katamatsu in 1953. The Sanmon is not the physical entrance to the temple, but the symbolic one. The open concept lower level evokes emptiness, formlessness, and inaction, all good things in a Zen Buddhist context. The present structure was built in 1785 and is the only building in the temple to pre-date the 1923 earthquake.
Fifty-Three Stations of Tokaido: Surprise at Akasaka, by Utagawa Kunisada (1852).
'Come and look,' cried a man with a telescope. 'You can see all the streets of Ōsaka, down to the very ants crawling in the roads. You can see all the people walking on Dōton Bridge and can count the number of priests among them. You can see both young and old and how many pockmarks they've got. You can see all the pretty girls and all the ugly ones too. You can see them buying and eating baked potatoes. You can see them relieving themselves by the rivers. You can see the beggars catching lice and count how many they've got. You can see 'em as wonderful as if you'd got 'em in your hand. You can see all the scenery. You can see Sumiyoshi harbour and the island of Awaji and Hyōgo Point, and Suma, and Akashi. You can see the sailors in the ships and count the bowls of rice they're eating. You can see what they're eating, too. More wonderful still, if you put it to your ear you can hear the actors in the theatres and tell what they're chanting. It's all the same whether you looks or listens. Smell it with your nose and you'll smell the eels they're frying in the next street. Only four coppers for a look through this wonderful glass. Here you are. Ten thousand miles at a glance. Here you are.'
Ikku Jippensha, Hizakurige or Shank's Mare (trans. Th. Satchell), p. 323.