soul of man. Fashion does not penetrate here; an uncanny force of primary design, seeming to embody the stability of nature itself, fends off fatigue, neither tiring man nor boring him.
The universal, balanced ecology of Kruger Park in the Transvaal and American primeval settings, in the midst of which I have been privileged to invest creative effort, are next to eternal, as also are the nature preserves of the Belgian Congo and Brazil; their wonderful lasting balance has an overpowering impressiveness. So too does the Japan garden continue to symbolize these long-range values of equilibrium, even while there flows outside its moon gate a thickening parade of two-toned, chrome-trimmed motor cars of the very latest fashions, blowing ephemeral exhaust fumes.
David H. Engel points in his text to the mystery of how traditional Japanese houses fuse with their gardens, gardens so spontaneously free of the shackles of dry geometricity. The house, on the contrary, could well serve American prefabricators as prototype solutions of the problems of modular construction, as an example of a most humanized standardization accepted by a hundred million people. The three-by-six-foot tatami floor mat governs not only the dimensions of a room, whose size is always some multiple of the mat, but also those of the sliding partitions of the house, the built-in sets of drawers, the movable tansu chests—governs, indeed, every dimension of houses at every level of society, from the huts of poor farmers to the palatial villas of soap manufacturers and princely officials.
The original quality which flows from these ever-cherished building standards harmonizes amazingly well with the relaxed asymmetry of the garden courtyard, and probably needs it for instinctive relief. "Humanized naturalism," as I, like Mr. Engel, would call it, demands this kind of partnership. It becomes more than mere partnership and turns into a true entity, an almost puzzling integration with the site, which is respected as part of the continuous universe—before this universe was marred by commercially developed "subdivisions." It is amazing how all this outwardly related unity can be accomplished even on the most diminished scale, where vistas could never hope to be as expansive as in the Mikado's summer palace. Japanese gardens have made happy the humble, the modest, and the rich.
Mr. Engel agrees with my long-harbored thoughts. All our senses are used in apprehending a designed setting, be it architecture or landscaping. Even the vestibular sense of the inner ear busily records for us our turns, accelerations, and retardations when, following a magical paving pattern, we haltingly walk the irregular windings of a carefully planned, non-repetitious path or tread the willful zigzag of simple planks bridging a lotus pool.
Thus, a visitor to such a jewel of gardening is kept, with brilliant foresight, tenderly activated by the multi-sensorial appeal of the sounds, odors, and colors of nature, the thermal variations of shade, sunlight, and air movements. Happy endocrine discharges and pleasant associations play through the visitor's body and mind as he views, and promenades. Or, even when he sits seemingly in full repose, that strangely emotive "force of form" that exists in the garden keeps eliciting the vital, vibrating functions of the subtle life processes within him that we call delight. All this is far beyond the effects worked on us by merely quaint, exotic decoration.
The author of this valuable book rightly warns against its being used superficially for the shallow imitation of fragments. The book's greatest benefit will be to stir an awakening to the unified appeal that results from such a profoundly integrated composition as a Japanese garden. This same principle of total appeal has also been practiced, often with completely unstudied innocence, from neolithic Machu Picchu in the precipitous mountains of Peru to Zulu villages in the African bush, but it has, alas, all but disappeared where our herds of bulldozers have bullied the landscape into a "marketable" product.
Japanese towns, villages, houses, and gardens are often miracles of land economy, brought about both out of necessity and from a general sense of thrift. This book gives much more than a glimpse of the "humanized naturalism" of the Japanese landscape, a landscape that proves that even a tightly massed civilization need not spell the defilement of the natural scene but, in fact, can mean its glorification.
Los Angeles, February, 1959
Acknowledgments
IT IS ALWAYS a pleasant task to thank those who have helped you. In this instance it can truly be said that it was the encouragement and generous assistance of many Japanese well-wishers that brought this book into being. Though it would be impossible to list them all, I shall never forget the many friendly, open doors of private homes and temples where I was always so cordially received. No matter how busy they were, housewives, homeowners, and temple priests were proud and happy to invite me inside, to show their houses and gardens, and to talk to me over a hospitable, warming cup of tea.
There are also those to whom I must especially express my gratitude. First, to Tansai Sano, artist, garden designer, and builder. He is a humble man of taste and sensitivity who, while deeply loving the rich heritage of his country's culture, still does not hesitate to try, with bright, creative originality, new forms of artistic expression in a garden. He is my teacher and my friend. With enthusiasm he accepted me as his pupil. With gentle humor and patience he-listened to my questions. And he taught me not only principles of garden design and construction, but also to see gardens as a joyful part of the human adventure.
I am also grateful to the Landscape Architecture Department of the Faculty of Agriculture of Kyoto University for the use of its well-stocked library. I am deeply indebted to Professor Eitaro Sekiguchi and his staff, and especially to Makoto Nakamura, who helped me with his friendly criticism and advice.
I am thankful also to the Faculty of Architecture of Tokyo University of Fine Arts, where I was registered; to Professor Junzo Yoshimura, who smoothed the way; to Professor Isoya Yoshida; and to Gakuji Yamamoto, for his encouraging and helpful letters.
As indicated below, for many of the photographs in this book I am obliged to Seiichi Sano, who is following in his father's distinguished tradition of garden building, and to Yoshio Takahashi, who spent almost two years photographing gardens all over Japan for the publishing house of Kodansha.
The staff of the City of Kyoto's Bureau of Tourist Industry were most helpful and cooperative in securing for me introductions and passes to many of the gardens. And, above all, with fondness and gratitude my appreciation goes to my friend Eiko Yuasa, of that office, who typed the manuscript for me and in countless hospitable, generous ways helped me during my stay in Japan. I thank my friend Kiyoshi Makino, the Tokyo architect, who allowed me to use the pictures of the Sassakawa, designed by him.
To Hiroshi Uemura, garden designer and builder in Kanazawa, who gave so generously of his time and whose name unlocked many a garden gate, I feel grateful obligation.
My thanks to Tadashi Kubo, of the Agricultural Faculty of Osaka Prefectural University, who sent me his compilation of the Sakutei-ku For their help with many of the drawings I am obliged to Shiotaro Shizuma and Shigeo Fujita.
I owe gratitude to the Japanese government, which awarded me, through its Ministry of Education, a grant to study garden design and construction in Japan.
And to the Japan Society in New York, which helped me to get started on this study project, I am most grateful.
The gardens of Messrs. Tomoda, Mizoguchi, Kaba, Watanabe, Tamura, and Ishida and of the Narita Fudo and the Kicho, illustrated in pages which follow, were designed and built by Tansai Sano. The garden of Mr. Akaza was designed and built by Hiroshi Uemura.
The sources of the photographs used in the book are as follows, all those not otherwise indicated having been taken by the. author:
By Seiichi Sano: Plates 1, 3, 19, 20, 28, 31, 37, 42, 43, 45, 48-50, 52-55, 59, 60, 63-67, 70, 78-80, 102-5, 112, 113, 121, 125, 127, 130-32, 135, 137, 139, 144, 146, 148, 154-56, 159, 161-63,
