I’m sure it’s not the world’s first Baroque-themed bar, but when French-born, Japan-based pipe organ builder and booster Matthieu Garnier mentioned his new endeavor, “Bar Fuga,” I knew I had to go.
“The Division of Labor is Limited by the Extent of the Market” says Adam Smith in book 1, chapter three of The Wealth of Nations. Which helps explain why Tokyo, the globe’s largest metropolis, can support such a delightful variety of cultural niches. I was once wandering across town and stumbled upon the “Uchumura Meteorite Shop” which specializes in… meteorites. Owner Hachiro Kageyama scours the globe, collecting and selling his wares in the firm conviction that these denizens from outer space, like the falling stars they are, have the power to make wishes come true. For those unable to afford a whole piece (up to ¥2m), he slices them thin and encases them in resin.
My personal niches have been filled by the presence of one of the world’s only lightweight, long-distance hiking shops, Hiker’s Depot. For those interested not just in the outdoors nor even just hiking, this shop will equip you for the Appalachian Trail with the latest, lightest equipment. It is an obsessive art, and the shop even sponsors a yearly conference for experienced hikers to share both best practices and the wonders of the long-distance trail.
The list of such “Only in Japan” phenomenon goes on and on, and includes all manner of hobbies and their penumbra of equipment. Trainspotting, for example, is not merely one activity. “Noritetsu” try to ride all the lines in a region, or of a particular train company. “Toritetsu” take pictures of trains in various places with increasing degrees of comprehensiveness. “Ototetsu” record the sounds of trains.
The same bewildering variety of possibility extends to bars as well. There are penguin bars, shooting bars, monster bars, Catholic Church-themed bars, Texas bars, to say nothing of the many cat bars. This list, too, goes on and on. Don’t count on any of them still being open when next you visit Tokyo; they come and go pretty quickly.
In this resplendent company, Bar Fuga is hardly shocking. Its location, Iidabashi—a metro/train stop of intermediate importance in Tokyo—boasts hundreds of eating and drinking establishments. In this saturated market, you have to stand out.
In the penumbra of Iidabashi’s more lively restaurant scene, off a side street, down a walkway, then finally down some stairs to B1, we enter into Bar Fuga. It is a small space, probably not more than 200 square feet (ca. 19 m²). There’s the typical Japanese live-edge bar top, a line of bottles, half wine (for show), half liquor. And off to the right as you enter: a four-stop positive organ made by co-owner Matthieu Garnier and family.
There gathered a lively crowd of ancient music and pipe organ aficionados, including Matthieu’s co-owner Mari Ohki, herself a professional organist based out of Kawasaki’s Muse concert hall. (She’s currently rehearsing for the second of a 10-year concert series of Bach’s complete organ works; more on this in a future post). I sat next to one Hikiba-san, who, though the bar is only 3 months open, has become a regular. He has worked his way through all of Tokyo’s eight symphony orchestras, he tells me. Everybody seemed delighted to be among fellow ancient music fans.
Another chance encounter: Marie Balthazar, French ethnologist and author of From Noise to Music: Becoming an Organist. After this study of pipe organ culture in France, she’s in Japan for comparative work. One meets the most interesting people in pipe organ bars!
While Matthieu served us rosé and pinot noir, and we nibbled at a plate of charcuterie, Hatsume Sato played two sets on the organ. First, a delightful rendition of several favorites from Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite. On the nearby instrument, the dancing strains of the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” become even more amusing than the original, with tones of circus delight that are not wholly in appropriate. The tone is sweet, the attack distinct but not aggressive.
An hour later comes the second set. Appropriately, Sato-san treated us with the Fugue in C-major from the Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier.1 Only in Japan.
Thanks to fellow Tokyoite and faithful reader Roger Lowther for identifying the tune.