asked if I would be interested in looking after the property (it had been empty for two years).
What do you have to do?
I maintain the grounds and rake the garden, which I think is the largest dry landscape in Kyoto, maybe even in the whole country. It takes a couple of hours a week. I also show visitors around, and I help out if there are foreigners on short courses at the monastery. It’s a life that suits me, as I enjoy physical work like growing organic vegetables and wheat.
What’s your impression of Zen in Kyoto?
Kyoto is the heart of Zen culture, so not surprisingly it tends to be conservative. There are centuries of tradition to maintain. Some people talk of a decline, but part of that is simply the falling population. Numbers are down in all walks of life. But there’s another factor, I think. Five hundred years ago there was a vitality about Zen because the level of suffering and the awareness of death was much more intense. Modern medicine shields us from that, and there’s so much distraction in modern life, such as the media and electronics. Religion is so far removed from daily life that some young people don’t even know what Zen is. But having said that, there’s a great spiritual thirst which materialism can’t satisfy. And there are still some truly inspiring roshi around. That gives me great hope for the future.
Whereas straw sandals are worn for takuhatsu alms begging (see opposite), wooden sandals known as geta are worn around the temple or on outings. These have white straps instead of the usual black in order to distinguish monks from laypersons.
Finding One’s Way:
The Design of a Zen Monastery
Kyoto has seven great Zen temple-monasteries, which dominate the city’s landscape. In order of foundation, these are Kennin-ji (1202), Tofuku-ji (1236), Nanzen-ji (1291), Daitoku-ji (1326), Tenryu-ji (1339), Myoshin-ji (1342) and Shokoku-ji (1382). Their design differs from the temples of earlier Buddhism and their architecture was a borrowing from Song China (960–1279). The layout correlates with that of the human body, so that the Buddha Hall lies at its heart and a straight spine runs through the main buildings. As in the Chinese tradition, the compound was aligned towards the south and comprises a set of seven structures. Apart from the Buddha Hall, there is a Sanmon (ceremonial gate); a Doctrine or Lecture Hall; a Meditation Hall; and a kitchen, latrine and bath. The name of each is displayed prominently on a wooden plaque below the eaves.
The main structures are Chinese in character, with buildings set directly on the ground and floors made of stone or tile. The woodwork is unpainted and the large wooden doors swing open rather than slide, Japanese-style. Zen is characterized by rigid and structured practice, and thus the cavernous halls give off an air of austerity in keeping with the life of the monks. The walkways between buildings are wide, suited to large processions, and though they may be decorated with trees, there are no ornamental gardens and the atmosphere is spartan.
Around this central Chinese core are subtemples in Japanese style, with tatami, asymmetry and residential architecture. They have a more intimate feel. Shoes are taken off and tatami rooms are separated by narrow corridors open to delightful gardens. These subtemples developed organically, by contrast with the symmetry and straight lines of the monastic buildings. The prime example is the Myoshin-ji complex, with 46 subtemples arranged like a medieval village centered around a church. The subtemples are privately owned, and although the head priest participates in monastic affairs, the building constitutes his family residence.
Some of the monasteries have lost their original layout or were conceived differently from the outset. Nanzen-ji, for instance, is aligned on an east–west axis, because it originated as a villa owned by a retired emperor. Others have been badly affected by disaster, particularly the Onin War (1467–77), which devastated the entire city. Indeed, the large temples have without exception all burned to the ground at least once. Some structures were never replaced, and others have been rebuilt several times over the course of their history. But while wood can be a liability in terms of fire, it can also be an advantage in terms of relocation, and several temples have benefitted from the gift of imperial palace buildings or magnificent castle gates.
Nearly every temple displays a large painted illustration of the grounds. Although fairly recent, these boards originated in an earlier tradition of keidaizu, prints of the compound common in the Edo period (1600–1868). This painted guide to Shokoku-ji shows its subsidiary temples of Kinkaku-ji and Ginkaku-ji in the top left and bottom right, respectively.
TEMPLE STRUCTURES
To fully appreciate the temple compounds, it should be borne in mind that when constructed the huge monastic buildings would have dominated the cityscape. Magnificent views over the capital were afforded from the upper floor of the large ceremonial gates. Sadly, in an age of modern high-rises, the wooden buildings have lost some of their former grandeur although the dimensions and woodwork are still awe-inspiring.
❶ Outer Gate (Somon) This is the general entrance, situated slightly off the central axis. It generally faces south in accordance with Chinese fengshui principles, with important buildings towards the north of the complex.
❷ Imperial Messenger’s Gate (Chokushimon) The ceremonial gate is reserved for the emperor and his envoys, signifying the importance of imperial patronage in the past. It stands on the monastery’s central axis and is normally kept shut.
❸ Hanchi This pond at the entrance to Zen temples, often square in shape and with an arched stone bridge, represents passing from profane into sacred space. The lotus is a symbol of enlightenment because of its ability to produce a pure and beautiful flower from muddy depths. The ponds also served as a source of water during the conflagrations to which temples were prone.
❹ Sanmon (Ceremonial Gate) Sanmon means ‘mountain gate’ (the word mountain is synonymous with temple). It is symbolic rather than functional, typically with an altar room on its second floor. It is also known as Enlightenment Gate since it represents the passage into the world of Zen. In some cases, the first of the Chinese characters is written as ‘three’ instead of ‘mountain’ to denote the three openings in the gate that represent ‘emptiness’, ‘no-mind’ and ‘no intention’. The space between the Sanmon and the next structure is planted with trees, which are used for rebuilding.
❺ Buddha Hall (Butsuden) Normally standing on the north–south axis between the Sanmon gate and the Lecture Hall, this houses the temple’s main object of worship. The building was the second largest after the Dharma Hall and its high ceiling and stone floor are thought to have enhanced the chanting of sutra. Most Kyoto monasteries no longer have one because the originals were not replaced after being burnt down (it was also felt that too much ritual distracted from Zen practice). Both Daitoku-ji and Myoshin-ji still have Buddha Halls.
❻ Dharma Hall/Lecture Hall (Hatto or Hodo) This formidable temple building, with its gleaming tiled roof
