Japan’s Taisho Period (1912–1926) was a time of rapid change. Western fashions, music, and ideas were flooding into the country, reshaping everyday life. Yet inside the hanamachi — the flower towns of Kyoto — a very different world held firm. Here, Maikos and Geikos kept traditional arts alive with the same discipline they always had. The photos below were taken during the 1910s and 1920s, offering a rare, unfiltered look at that world.

Maikos are apprentice Geikos. A Geiko is the Kyoto term for what most people call a geisha. The distinction matters — Kyoto’s hanamachi have always had their own terminology, customs, and standards. Girls as young as 15 or 16 entered training, living under the guidance of an established Geiko who acted as their mentor. The training lasted up to five years and covered classical Japanese dance, the shamisen (a three-stringed instrument), tea ceremony, and the art of conversation.

The most famous hanamachi in Kyoto was — and still is — Gion. These districts centered on ochaya, the elegant teahouses where Geikos and Maikos entertained guests. During the Taisho Period, an invitation to an ochaya was a mark of social standing. Artists, writers, politicians, and wealthy merchants sought out these gatherings, drawn by the skill and conversation of the women who hosted them.


Despite the formality of their profession, these photos show Maikos in candid, relaxed moments — playing games, walking along the Kamo River, and even experimenting with Western technology like the Kodak folding camera. The Taisho Period was one of the first times ordinary Japanese people had access to affordable cameras, and the Maikos were clearly no exception.


A Maiko’s appearance was never accidental. Every element carried meaning. Their kimonos were elaborate and heavily layered, with long, trailing obi sashes tied at the back. The obi itself was often decorated with detailed patterns — dragons, pearls, wisteria, and other motifs tied to season or occasion. Their hairstyles were styled using their own hair, set with bintsuke wax into structured shapes like the sakkou, a style worn by a Maiko nearing the end of her apprenticeship.


The white makeup worn by Maikos — called oshiroi — was applied in a precise routine each day. The nape of the neck was left with a distinctive W-shaped or V-shaped border of bare skin, considered one of the most elegant features of the Maiko’s appearance. Red and black accents were added around the eyes and lips. A junior Maiko painted only her lower lip red; a senior Maiko painted both.


Performances during the Taisho Period included classical dance, instrument playing, and the singing of kouta — short, poetic songs about love and longing, typically accompanied by the shamisen. These were not background entertainment. Guests were expected to pay close attention, and the quality of a performance was discussed and remembered. Geikos who mastered kouta were especially prized.



Music was central to daily life in the hanamachi. Training on the taiko drum and the kotsuzumi — a small, hourglass-shaped hand drum — began early. Some photos from the 1910s show musicians who appear to be around twelve years old, already performing with serious technical focus. By the time a girl reached her mid-teens, she was expected to be competent across multiple instruments and performance styles.


Silk was the fabric of choice throughout the hanamachi. Nishijin silk — woven in Kyoto’s Nishijin district — was among the most prized in Japan, known for its complex woven patterns and rich color. Obi made from Nishijin silk were status markers, and photos from 1917 already show Maikos wearing them with visible pride.



The Takase-bune were flat-bottomed wooden boats that traveled along the Takase Canal in Kyoto. By 1926, when one photo was taken, they were already a nostalgic sight — the canal had lost most of its commercial traffic decades earlier. For Maikos to be photographed aboard one was itself a deliberate gesture toward Kyoto’s older traditions, staged against a backdrop that was already fading from daily life.



Outdoor photography became increasingly common during the Taisho Period as camera equipment grew lighter and more accessible. Many of these images were taken outside — along riverbanks, at waterfalls, in parks — showing Maikos in natural light rather than the formal studio settings that dominated earlier photography. The casual, documentary quality of these shots is part of what makes them so valuable today.



The game of Toryanse, visible in one photograph, was a traditional children’s game played in a circle, accompanied by a song that described passing through a checkpoint shrine gate. Maikos playing it in full dress presents a striking image — the weight of formal training and artistic discipline held alongside something purely playful. The Taisho Period allowed for that kind of contrast in a way earlier, stricter eras often did not.



The sakkou hairstyle shown in one portrait was reserved for a Maiko in the final weeks before her erikae — the ceremony marking her transition from Maiko to full Geiko. The style is more compact than the earlier Maiko hairstyles and features ornaments placed at the front. It signaled to anyone who saw it that a major milestone was imminent. The girl wearing it knew exactly what it meant.



Reapplying oshiroi makeup outdoors — as seen in one park bench photograph — was a practical necessity. Summers in Kyoto are hot and humid, and the white paste could run in the heat. Doing so publicly, in full dress, required a steady hand and complete composure. For Maikos, maintaining their appearance in all conditions was part of the discipline, not separate from it.



Photographed from behind, two Maikos reveal perhaps the most recognized feature of their dress — the elaborate, long-hanging obi tied in a large bow called a darari obi. Falling almost to the hem of the kimono, it distinguishes a Maiko from a Geiko at a glance. Geikos tie their obi in a shorter, more compact style. The length of the Maiko’s obi is both decorative and functional as a signal of her rank and status within the hanamachi.



The wisteria obi shown in one dance photograph was a seasonal choice. Wisteria blooms in spring, and wearing it on an obi during that season was deliberate. Matching textile patterns to the time of year was a standard practice for Geikos and Maikos, who were expected to express seasonal awareness through their dress, their dances, and even the topics they chose for conversation with guests.

The young Maiko in the final portrait looks directly at the camera with the composed stillness that years of training produce. Her makeup is precise, her kimono arranged without a fold out of place. She is young — possibly 16 or 17 — but there is nothing tentative in her expression. By the time this photo was taken in the 1920s, she had already spent years working toward exactly this kind of quiet, earned confidence.



