Why the Shōwa Era Captivates Us Today: Exploring Its Reality Through Colour, Wind, and Railways

Even though we're well into the Reiwa era, our streets are still dotted with places that proudly wear the 'Shōwa retro' label, captivating people, even those from younger generations. There's a deeper, more intricate charm at play here that goes beyond simple nostalgia. This time, we'll try to unravel the atmosphere of that era through four lenses: colour, wind, railways, and the symbols of the age.

Recreating the 'Colours' of a Bygone Era

When you want to immerse yourself in the Shōwa worldview, the first thing that strikes you is its distinctive colour palette. Deep vermilion, subdued indigo, a persimmon orange that somehow evokes nostalgia... These colours weren't just 'old'; they were built on careful thought and a distinct aesthetic sense. Looking back at a certain colour notebook published back then, you can see the sensibility of the people who lived in that era captured within its pages. The colour combinations used in commercial design and everyday goods are a testament to a refined taste that could easily be applied to modern interiors or fashion even today. Leafing through such materials, you get a real sense of how seriously people engaged with colour back then.

Unforgettable Memories of the 'Wind'

Of course, not everything about Shōwa was defined by gentle hues. The raw power of nature is etched deeply into people's memories. I'm talking about Typhoon 20 of 1979. Nowadays, it's common to refer to typhoons by the era name of the year, like 'Reiwa 1 Bōsō Peninsula Typhoon', but back then, Typhoon 20 in 1979 was a force that slammed into the Japanese archipelago with such strength it was even called the 'Second Muroto Typhoon'.

I was living in Osaka at the time and vividly remember the Keihan Electric Railway being suspended for hours, leaving the station square packed with people unable to get home. I can still picture the gale-force winds and the sound of rain lashing against the windows so clearly. This typhoon left scars that changed the cityscape overnight, and it marked a significant turning point, symbolising the end of the high-growth period and a major shift in disaster awareness. For those who lived through it, Shōwa isn't just about 'nostalgia'; it's also a very real memory of living alongside such harsh nature.

The 'Railway' as a Landscape Connecting People and Towns

So, what is it that conveys those real memories to us today? One thing is undoubtedly the railways. If you walk along the Keihan Electric Railway line, you'll notice that the vestiges of Shōwa are still very much alive. The trams that run in harmony with Kyoto's cityscape, the charming shopping arcade around Hirakatashi Station before its redevelopment—in places like these, time seems to move at a different pace.

The Keihan line was never just a means of getting people from A to B. The residential areas and culture that flourished along its route are arguably the ideal form of urban planning from the Taishō to Shōwa eras. The sentiment imbued in train names like the express 'Biwako' and 'Sazanami', the subtle scent unique to each station platform, the departure melodies—the 'tactile quality' that the people of that era held dear resides in these fine details.

The 'Era Framework' of Shōwa

We must also touch upon the figure of Emperor Shōwa as a symbol of the age. His 64-year reign mirrored the very upheaval of Japan itself—through war, reconstruction, and rapid economic growth. As people's lives and values underwent a literal 'seismic shift' between pre-war and post-war Japan, the role of the symbolic emperor was constantly questioned.

When we talk about 'Shōwa' today, we're engaging with a fundamental question that goes beyond the mere framework of an era name: 'How did the Japanese people change, and what did they strive to preserve?' The vibrant use of colour, the unforgiving forces of nature, and the railways that continued to support people's daily lives—they all form part of the answer to that question.

• The allure of Shōwa retro goes beyond surface aesthetics: It's underpinned by the design sensibilities captured in historical materials and the history of recovery from typhoon damage.
• The Keihan Electric Railway is a 'living' heritage: Alongside the culture of its railway corridor, it's a treasure trove of preserved-in-operation landscapes that transmit the Shōwa era to today.
• Universality beyond the era name: Looking at the Shōwa period prompts us to reconsider Japanese identity and our relationship with the natural world.

Beyond the nostalgia lies the 'resilience' and 'sensitivity' of that era. For those of us living in Reiwa, the hints we need to shape the future might just be found in the past, right there beside us, not so far away.