and rent by warring factions, Kyoto began its journey through history, not only as an imperial stronghold but also as a vibrant residential city, with enclaves of astute merchants, gifted artisans and hard-working commoners who lived alongside the temples, shrines and gardens that even today stand as tributes to the skills and ancient aesthetics of their creators. But as much as Kyoto is rich with remnants of a remarkable past, it is a forward-looking city, as embodied in the architecturally stunning and massive Kyoto Station.
Kyoto is also a city festooned with ugly electric wires and burdened with lumpish apartment buildings, intrusive sidewalk notices and gaudy neon signs. Discarded bicycles lie in gnarled mounds. For while Kyoto residents are truly proud of their city and its historic artistic legacy, some have perfected enough selective vision to overlook aesthetic insults.
Some would say that it was a series of historical accidents that allowed Kyoto to become one of the world’s metropolitan jewels. Other would argue that it could have been no other way. In 1868, after the Meiji Restoration, the Emperor and his court, as well as the heads of prestigious families, moved from Kyoto to the new capital of Tokyo, then a collection of rural towns known as Edo. Despite fear that losing its status as the capital would pitch Kyoto into decline, it thrived. The city is not only a stronghold of tradition but early on embraced progress. In 1890, it built one of the country’s first large-scale engineering feats, a canal that allowed rice from the agricultural prefecture of Shiga to be shipped efficiently into the city. Kyoto also quickly established hydroelectric power, realigned streets to allow construction of a railroad station and boasted the country’s first tramcar.
The members of the oldest families who remained behind founded Nintendo, Kyocera, Murata Manufacturing and Shimadzu Corporation, now among some of the world’s leading companies, while Kyoto University boasts of Nobel Prize recipients in chemistry and physics.
The top-knotted head of a warrior bowing to the Emperor.
The Imperial chrysanthemum motif on a gate at Shoren-in Temple.
The blossoming of spring along the Eastern Mountains.
The straw sandal shod feet of Kukai, the 9th century monk who founded the Shingon sect of Buddhism in Japan.
Young musicians aboard the magnificent Naginata Float during the Gion Festival.
A literary tradition of poetry writing outings was one of the pleasures of the 10th century Heian court, as depicted in this painting of nobles seated along a meandering stream.
Tiger motif walls.
Painting of courtiers on horseback.
Stone image of a demonic figure supporting a great weight.
ZEN
BUDDHISM AND THE TEA CEREMONY
Zen was the last Buddhist sect to enter Japan, and by the 14th century one that had a profound influence on the arts: calligraphy, Noh drama, architecture and especially the tea ceremony.
Zen is based on meditation, a practice in which one looks into the source of the mind, leading to an inner equilibrium between the secular and the sacred and, hopefully, enlightenment. Some claim that Zen is more a discipline or philosophy than a religion, but 1,500 years of Zen writings reveal it to be one of the world’s great spiritual traditions. Unlike conventional religion, with a transcendent deity outside of the self, Zen believes that the essence of mind is innately enlightened, and that seeing into one’s Buddha nature is possible through meditation. It was largely as an aid to meditation and good health that Eisai, the Japanese monk who introduced Zen to Japan, brought tea seeds back with him from China and promoted the drinking of tea. Use of the beverage spread quickly among the priesthood and the ruling classes.
A Buddhist/mendicant monk awaits alms from passersby.
The wall of a Buddhist monastery hung with straw hats and sandals.
Neatly placed footwear rests in a temple entrance of pleasingly symmetrical lines of wood, stone and tile.
Two dragons, one clutching the sacred jewel in its five claws, soar through the vaporous mists on the high ceiling of a Buddhist temple, Kennin-ji.
Monks standing in repose before being received into a temple.
After being taken up by the aristocracy, the drink became a privilege of a rising wealthy class. In the late 16th century, the tea master, Sen-no-Rikyu, started to refine the art of making tea into a ceremony, stipulating that all who entered his teahouse were equals to share in the pleasure of a simple bowl of whisked powdered green tea. This was a revolutionary idea, since Japanese society was rigidly class-bound. Thereafter, the tea-room became a meeting ground for priests, artisans, merchants and aristocrats, a singularly powerful cultural statement.
Perhaps this is one reason that Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a common foot soldier who rose to the rank of warlord, was attracted to the tea of Sen-no-Rikyu. The warlord became a patron of this famous tea master, recognizing Rikyu’s influence on society and his undisputed ability to create new aesthetic standards. Artists were inspired to create utensils that embodied these aesthetics, and tea enthusiasts vied in collecting new pieces. During one military excursion in the 16th century, Hideyoshi invaded Korea and brought back Korean potters to reproduce the simple rice bowls that are still highly sought after. Imparting the softness of human touch, the bowls rested lightly in two hands, their thick walls warming but not scalding. Senno-Rikyu recognized beauty in bowls shaped by an expert eye and glazed in soft tones—the pinnacle of graceful simplicity. The Japanese eye has become trained to recognize rustic beauty (wabi), elegant simplicity (sabi), understated tastefulness (shibui) and vague mysteriousness (yugen), a deep response to the passing of beauty (aware) or refined sophistication (miyabi), as a few examples of the many expressions still in the aesthetic lexicon that concern tea utensils.
Consequently, most teahouses have rustic settings. Some even have thatched roofs and all have simple unadorned clay walls, a hearth or hanging kettle, an alcove for a hanging scroll, a simple flower arrangement and tatami mats. For Japanese
