Dry landscape gardens use raked gravel to represent water, with rocks representing islands or mountains. Some see this in abstract terms as the movement of the mind interrupted by thought. For onlookers the garden may serve as an aid to meditation, while for monks raking the gravel is an exercise in mindfulness.
A National Treasure:
Kyoto and the Art of Zen
Kyoto is a city blessed in so many ways. It is home to seventeen World Heritage Sites. It is the city of Noh theater, ikebana and the tea ceremony; of gardens, geisha and Genji; of crafts, kimono and weaving; of poets, artists and aesthetes; of tofu, saké and kaiseki delicacies. It is also a city of temples, shrines and museums and of festivals and seasonal delights. And on top of all that, it is a city of Zen—Rinzai Zen, to be precise. It was here that the fusion of Chinese Chan with Japanese culture took place, producing a sect that has become synonymous with satori, or ‘awakening’. Zen and Kyoto go together like love and Paris.
The genius of Japan, it is often said, is in the adoption and adaptation of foreign customs. Zen is a prime example. In the Heian period (794–1186), leading priests of Kyoto went on perilous trips to China to study at the feet of the great masters, the result being the introduction of new types of Buddhist thought. In 1202, a temple was set up in Kyoto which challenged the established order, for it preached that the sole means of salvation was through Zen meditation. The name of the temple was Kennin-ji, and though it remained nominally part of the Tendai sect, it proved a pioneer for the new teaching.
Zen soon found favor with the ruling classes, first with the warrior regime in Kamakura and then with the imperial court in Kyoto. By the Muromachi period (1333–1573), when the Ashikaga shoguns made Kyoto their capital, Zen’s place was assured and the whole arts and crafts of the age were affected as a result. A city once known for aristocratic indulgence embraced a new order that spoke to essentialism and the suppression of self. Just 200 years after Myoan Eisai (1141–1215) had single-handedly introduced Zen to the city, seven mighty monasteries encircled the imperial capital. Robed figures with shaved heads roamed the corridors of power, while inside the thick temple walls, guarded by sturdy gates, monks rose before daybreak to begin a daily round of chanting, meditation and pondering anecdotes about eccentric Chinese masters.
Zen temples have attractive wooden verandas which give onto gardens and provide a sense of oneness with nature, as here at Ikkyu-ji. In this way, the architecture fosters awareness of transience and the passing seasons.
The huge Sanmon gates of Zen temples are ceremonial in nature and feature altar rooms on the upper floor. Nanzen-ji is a noted example, the formidable size indicative of the temple’s elevated status.
Thanks to patronage from on high, the temples were able to acquire some exquisite decoration for their monks’ quarters. Because of a desire to strip away illusion, the artwork had a minimalist character which tended towards simplicity and tranquility. Gardens were laid out by the top designers of the age, gorgeous fusuma paintings were executed by leading artists, and magnificent statues were commissioned for the halls of worship, while on the ceiling of the lecture halls were painted astonishing pictures of swirling dragons.
Following the Meiji Restoration of 1868, Buddhist temples in Japan have had to be self-financing. Income from visitors plays a vital role, and because of the attractiveness of Kyoto there can be formidable crowds of tourists at peak times. Some temples have embraced the opportunities this presents, while others are reluctant to compromise their religious purpose. Visitors looking for a moment of reflection during the periods of cherry blossom and maple viewing would be well advised to seek out a peaceful nook in one of the less famous temples. Those who are in earnest will rise at dawn to join the early morning zazen (sitting meditation) groups that welcome newcomers.
Sixty years ago, when temples were less frequented by tourists, Ruth Fuller Sasaki came to live at Daitoku-ji where she wrote of Kyoto in letters to the First Zen Institute of America. She had words of advice for her fellow countrymen, and though much has changed in the meantime her words remain apposite.
I assume those who come to Japan for only a few weeks and hope to find out something about Zen in that time will come to Kyoto, for only in the old capital can at least the outer expressions of Zen still be found in abundance. Here are seven of the great Rinzai Zen headquarter temples, each with its monastery. Here are the finest examples of Zen gardening. Here the old arts of Japan—Noh, tea ceremony, flower arrangement, sumi painting, calligraphy, pottery, among others—can best be enjoyed or studied…. There are a few rules you should lay down for yourself. The first is to put your camera away. Secondly, do not plan to do more than one major thing in one day. Thirdly, take your time and go leisurely…. When you return home and your friends ask you what you have learned about Zen in your three or four weeks’ stay in Kyoto, probably you will have to say “Not much.” Not much you can speak about, perhaps, but much you will never forget.
Since Fuller Sasaki’s time, Zen has spread around the world, and today there are hundreds of training centers outside of Japan. None, of course, have the patina of age or the cultural wealth accumulated by the temples of Kyoto. This was highlighted in an exhibition put on in 2016 at the Kyoto National Museum to celebrate the 1,150th anniversary of the death, in 866, of Rinzai (the Chan Chinese Linji Yixuan), who introduced the oldest school of Zen to Japan. Paintings, statues, calligraphy and ritual items spoke of a keen aesthetic sense shaped by the indigenous taste for naturalness and purity.
Here in Kyoto’s river basin, shielded by its protective hills, the Japanese sensibility has been nourished over long centuries. When the pursuit of beauty came into contact with the thinking of Zen, the result was an infusion of profundity and paradox, which gave rise to a remarkable aesthetic of minimalism. It is manifest in the awe-inspiring architecture, in gardens conducive to contemplation, in art that speaks of transcendence, and in calligraphy that is an art in itself. It marks one of mankind’s greatest accomplishments, and it is one that deserves wider celebration. How better than through the discerning eye of John Einarsen, long-time devotee of the city and inspiration behind the award-winning Kyoto Journal? In the lens of his camera is captured a very special cultural heritage—the spirit of Zen. The spirit of Kyoto Zen.
The lotus blossom is a symbol of enlightenment for the way its pure beauty emerges from muddy depths. The flowers bloom from mid-June to early August and are seen to best effect in the Lotus Pond at Tenryu-ji.
Carp are a symbol of perseverance because of their determination to swim upstream. By achieving their aim, they became associated with such positive attributes as courage, strength and good fortune.
Water basins signify the importance of spiritual as well as physical purification. They are typically found beside pathways leading to tea houses, where the sound of flowing water serves to soothe the minds of visitors.
From China to Kyoto:
The Story of Zen Buddhism
Zen first emerged as a Buddhist sect in Chinawhere it was known as Chan (meaning ‘meditation’). Indeed, Zen is said to have originated in the encounter between Indian Buddhism and Chinese Daoism.
