Shinto
Torii Gates
The gate marks the point where ordinary ground stops. What the shape means, why some are vermilion and some are bare wood, and the four ways to photograph one that are not the obvious way.

A torii marks a boundary. On one side is ordinary ground; on the other is the ground belonging to a kami. Nothing more complicated than that is going on, and everything else — the colour, the material, the number of them — follows local practice rather than a rule.
Two bars, two posts. It is the most reproduced shape in Japan, and the easiest thing in the country to photograph badly.
At a glance
- What it marks
- The entrance to a shrine's ground. Shrines are Shinto; temples have gates of a different kind
- The colour
- Vermilion is a preservative as much as a statement. Plain cedar and stone are just as traditional
- Etiquette
- Bow once before passing through, and keep to the side of the path rather than the middle
- Where
- Around 80,000 shrines in Japan, most with at least one gate
- Cost
- Almost always nothing. Shrine grounds are open and free
Look up, not along

The standard photograph is taken from twenty metres back, square on, with the gate in the middle of the frame. It is also the dullest. Standing directly beneath one and shooting upwards gives you the joinery, the grain and the trees — and removes the crowd entirely.
Use it as a frame


A torii is a ready-made frame: stand far enough back that the uprights hold the edges of your picture, and put the hall, the path or the sea in the middle of it.
Water changes everything

The gates that stand in the sea or at the edge of a lake are the ones that end up on posters, and they work because the reflection doubles a shape that is already symmetrical. They also depend entirely on the tide and the wind, so check both before travelling for one.
Wait for the light to go


Most shrine grounds have no closing time — the office that sells charms shuts, the ground does not — which makes the hour after sunset the best and least used time to be there.