Three Kiriko Festivals Worth Experiencing
After visiting several Kiriko festivals in Noto, a few have stayed with me more than others. Each has a completely different atmosphere, and interestingly, it is not always the size or appearance of the Kiriko that makes a festival memorable.
Here are three of my personal favorites.
Shingou Noryousai — Warm and Intimate
Location: Fujise, Nakajima Town, Nanao City, Ishikawa
Date: August 14
If I had to describe Shingo Noryousai in one word, it would be warm.
One of the things that made this festival special to me was the way the Kiriko were illuminated. While many Kiriko festivals today use electric lighting, the floats at Shingo are decorated with candles, giving them a softer and more traditional glow.
The road leading to the shrine is not heavily illuminated by streetlights either. Because of this, the contrast becomes especially beautiful: the warm, flickering orange light of the Kiriko stands out against the deep blue of the evening sky, gradually becoming almost completely dark.
It is a small town, but that is part of its charm. You can feel the warmth of the local community in the way people gather around the festival.
There were not many food stalls or the kind of festival attractions you might expect at a larger Japanese festival. Instead, the focus seemed to remain on the Kiriko and, more importantly, on the people carrying and celebrating with them.
For me, that made Shingo feel less like a large public event and more like being invited into a local community celebration.
Abare Matsuri — Wild and Unforgettable
Location: Ushitsu, Noto Town, Ishikawa
Date: First Friday and Saturday of July
In one word, Abare Matsuri is wild.
Chaotic might be another fitting word.
The Kiriko are certainly impressive, but I would not say that they are the main highlight of this festival. The real center of the action is the mikoshi, the portable shrine that is carried, thrown, smashed, burned, and repeatedly repaired throughout the festival.
One particularly striking feature is the taimatsu, large torches made with leafy branches. As they burn, the torches shower the festival grounds with glowing embers, sometimes landing among the festival-goers and the bare-chested mikoshi bearers.
The mikoshi itself is treated in a way that may seem almost shocking if you are seeing it for the first time. It is violently thrown around and smashed, only to be repaired and subjected to the same treatment again.
Towards the end of the festival, everything seems to come together at once. From the shrine, you can hear the mikoshi bearers shouting “Chousan, chousan!” while below, the mikoshi and flames create a chaotic scene. At the same time, the flutes and taiko drums of the Kiriko procession continue in the background.
Seeing the towering Kiriko against the fire while the mikoshi is being thrown around is an experience that is difficult to describe with words alone.
It is visually and acoustically overwhelming—and it may not be for everyone. But if you are looking for a festival experience that you will remember long after leaving Noto, Abare Matsuri is hard to beat.
Issaki Hotou Matsuri — Community and Synchronization
Location: Issaki, Nanao City, Ishikawa
Date: Early August
What stood out to me most about Issaki Hotou Matsuri was not necessarily the Kiriko themselves, but the people carrying them.
There is a strong sense of synchronization throughout the festival. From small children to adults, people participate with an incredible amount of energy, and the enthusiasm of the carriers seems to raise the atmosphere of the entire festival.
Compared with other festivals I visited, I found myself paying more attention to the local participants than to the Kiriko. Watching everyone move together and maintain the rhythm gave the festival a strong sense of unity.
It was also one of the most organized festivals I experienced. There were clear schedules and maps to help visitors understand where and when things would happen, making it much easier to follow the festival.
Interestingly, I could already feel the excitement even before the main festival day. Simply participating in the events on the day before was enough to give me a sense that something big was about to happen.
For me, Issaki showed another side of what makes a Kiriko festival special. The Kiriko may be the most visible part of the festival, but it is the people who carry them who bring the festival to life.
Every Kiriko festival has its own charm. It can be found in the people who take part, the design of the Kiriko, and the way each festival is carried out.
Many towns are facing a common challenge: a shortage of people available to carry the Kiriko. To keep their traditions going, communities have begun finding their own ways to adapt. Some towns bring out the mikoshi without the Kiriko when there are not enough people to carry the procession. Others invite people from neighboring communities to help, while some have even turned to kei trucks to make carrying the mikoshi less demanding.
The festivals may change with time, but the desire to gather, celebrate, and pass the tradition on remains. Within about a month of staying in Noto, I was able to experience only a small part of the many Kiriko festivals held across the peninsula.
It is also worth remembering that these festivals are not simply performances put on for outsiders. They are deeply rooted in the beliefs of the communities. As a visitor, being able to witness these celebrations is a privilege. Rather than simply looking for the biggest Kiriko or the most spectacular moment, I found that paying attention to the people, the atmosphere, and the traditions behind each festival made the experience much more meaningful.
See more of the Kiriko Festivals
