A day in Kyoto, beginnings of ikebana

Japan, October 2012. I had a day to spend as I wished in Kyoto. I wanted to see two places important in the beginnings of ikebana and its particular, oldest style known as ikenobo. One of those places was Ginkaku-ji or the Silver Pavilion (pictured below), one of a group of buildings constructed as a retirement home by Yoshimasa, the 8th Ashikaga shogun (1443-1473). How it came to be called the Silver Pavilion when it is not silver at all is another story, but it is important in the history of Japanese culture for several reasons, only one of which I mention here. (I urge you to read Donald Keene's book, Yoshimasa and the Silver Pavilion to learn much more). AshikagaYoshimasa was a complete failure as a shogun, but he had good taste--in buildings, paintings, gardens, and flower arrangements--which greatly influenced the development of Japanese culture.

The Japanese people had always admired and valued the beauty of flowers and other plants and had made floral offerings at Buddhist temples (see previous 11/9 entry on Nikko), but it was not until Yoshimasa's time that flower arranging had come to be considered an art form. Yoshimasa enjoyed several arts, and his palace at Higashiyama (the location of the Silver Pavilion) was decorated with floral displays.

According to Donald Keene, the "oldest surviving account of someone arranging flowers at the court is dated April 20, 1476." It was then apparently called "standing" rather than "arranging" flowers and was probably done in the rikka style, an early form of ikenobo invented by Senkei in 1462.

I haven't written in this blog for a while, and the image above helps to explain why. I took the photo on October 26 at Nikko, a World Heritage Site a few hours away from Tokyo. The building shown is the entrance gate to the Haiden of the Taiyuin-byo Shrine. Surrounding the buildings are tall Japanese cedars. This building is only a single part of a very large grouping of spectacularly adorned shrines and temples set  appropriately in a magnificent mountain forest. I chose this particular structure for this blog entry because of what I saw but could not photograph inside it. A guide who spoke only Japanese took the waiting group inside the Haiden, where we sat on tatami mats and listened to him. Since I couldn't understand what he was saying, I looked around the large room where we seated. On the ceiling above were a multitude of golden dragons. In front of me on the left and right of the guide, probably a Buddhist cleric, were sculpted metal flower arrangements, perhaps bronze. The one to the right appeared to be a lotus arrangement, often seen in Buddhist temples. But to the left was an arrangement that appeared to me to be a rikka design (or at least similar to a rikka), one of the oldest styles of ikebana design. I was pleased to see the large flower arrangement sculptures in such a sublime setting. Ikebana originated hundreds of years ago from floral offerings in Buddhist temples.

Since this blog is entitled "ikebana opens door to Japan," the next several entries will be about my visit to Japan. Without my interest in ikebana, I never would have learned so much about Japanese history and culture and then wanted to go there. Ikebana truly opened the door to Japan for me.

Photo by Becky Schnelker

The sunlight is always intense in dry, high-altitude Albuquerque, even as autumn begins to cool down the air. One of the things people new to this area notice is that you can feel chilly in the shade but step into the sun and suddenly it's hot. On the first day of fall, a group I belong to, Ikebana International #41, put on an exhibition of arrangements at the Rio Grande Botanic Garden. The garden was busy with visitors out to walk around outdoors in the company of their kids and phones and also enjoy the coleus, caladiums, and chrysanthemums on display. But they were getting pretty warm by the time they arrived at our exhibit room. It was air-conditioned, shaded from direct sun for most of the day, and lined with massive Chinese stone statues keeping their cool. Quiet Japanese flute music floated in the room. In front of the statues on tables with black cloths were our flower arrangements. People would hustle  in the door, and you could see them stop, take a breath, and relax. Children wanted to touch the flowers. I wondered how often they even get to see real flowers (especially flowers like lemon yellow calla lilies or pastel pink ginger blossoms)  up close now that our world is so full of fake flowers. Some visitors passed through quickly, but others stopped and looked closely and asked questions. One woman asked me, "How is icky baana different from any other flower arrangement?" I thought it was the best question I was asked all day and tried to explain (see Sept. 3 blog post for more about that).

This morning on NPR's Morning Edition I heard a story about microbrewing beer in Japan, in a brewery that used to specialize in sake (http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2012/09/18/161147806/japanese-sake-makers-shake-off-tradition-try-brewing-craft-beer). The following quote caught my attention: "Making sake is like judo or flower arranging – you're judged by how well you stick to the rules; there's no margin for improvisation."

First, note that the speaker, a Japanese brewer, refers to flower arranging (ikebana) in the same sentence with judo, and that alone tells you something about the place of flower arranging in the culture. But it's also important to note that he refers to the rules of ikebana, a facet of the art that is off-putting to some.

Whereas sake makers are breaking free to produce microbrews, people taught to follow the rules of whatever style of ikebana  they learned are now free to produce floral arrangements called (what else?) free-style ikebana.

So if you think you wouldn't like to learn ikebana because it has strict rules, please know that freewheeling, free-style arranging is available to all. But here's another side of the story: I actually prefer, as a novice ikebana and ikenobo practitioner, to learn the rules. They don't feel like restrictions to me. I feel that I'm learning how to put into practice an aesthetic I admire. How can I learn to produce a design that looks like ikenobo? By learning the rules behind the appearance. After I learn them well, then I'll be free to free-style.

I kept noticing a dog poop stink in the vicinity of my studio where I do flower arranging. At first I kept checking to see if one of my Chihuahuas had made a deposit, but then I realized what I was smelling. It was the lingering scent of the flower I had been arranging in one of my nicest china bowls. I had decided to try to create an arrangement with a Stapelia flower. I think they're gorgeous, but they stink. They intend to. They attract dozens of eager flies, instead of hummingbirds or bees, to my porch where the plants are in bloom. They do look a bit like rotting meat, I suppose, with reddish-purple veins and hairy edges.  But even more they resemble large starfish. That was what attracted me to them at first, and the friend at whose home I saw them was kind enough to give me two plants, which have multiplied. The arrangement I did with the Stapelia is what is called free-style ikebana, i.e. it doesn't follow any of the rules. More about that and what it has to do with sake and beer in the next blog. Meanwhile, I should say that I was wasn't pleased with the arrangement that resulted, but it was definitely unusual.

..."the basic aesthetic values of the Japanese, including naturalness, simplicity, suggestion, and perishability...
still another of these basic values, irregularity or asymmetry..."

Quoted from Japanese Culture, 4th ed. (2000), by Paul Varley.

This quote says much about ikebana. Imagine, fellow Americans, valuing "perishability" instead of buying fake flowers. The ikebana arrangement won't last long, and this is a good thing. We must really see, enjoy, and experience it at this moment. The constant recognition of the brevity of living beauty...

For example, in my arrangement above, I use a Datura branch (from my Albuquerque garden) with one full bloom and several buds of different sizes. Normally a Datura bloom opens in the evening, stays open for moths to pollinate it overnight, and then wilts the next morning. Behold, perishability. I managed to keep it from closing long enough to create the arrangement because I cut it on a rare rainy day and immediately placed it in a dim room in water. Also, please note if you can see them, the tiny insect holes in the leaves. In Western-style floral design, these leaves would be considered rejects. In ikebana, on the other hand, the holes signify the season, late summer, when insects are very busy chewing leaves. The season, itself perishable, is extremely important in ikebana, just as it is in Japanese haiku. You might also note that the design is not symmetrical, and the plant materials are simple, just two plants--Datura and snake plant.

How could Japanese flower arranging be so different, you may wonder, from the Western style. After all, flowers are flowers, and you just try to place them attractively in a vase, right? Well, no. If that's all there were to it, there wouldn't be anything called ikebana and the (at least) tens of thousands of people around the world practicing it.

Please keep in mind that this blog is being written by a beginner. So I have no answers about anything. All I offer are some observations about various aspects of this art form (and yes, ikebana is an art form). I hope they will be of interest to other floral designers. Also I'm sure that many people can (and will) argue with my observations.

• Western flower arranging is, when compared to ikebana, relatively uncomplicated. Sure, one can study it and learn different styles and types of floral design and develop certain skills over time. But it is nowhere near so articulated and complex as ikebana, which has spiritual connections both to Buddhism and Shinto, as well as being part of a distinctive Japanese aesthetic.

• Western flower arranging plays a completely different cultural role than does ikebana in many respects. For instance, if you read a book (for Westerners) about Japanese society, ikebana is likely to be mentioned or even discussed at some length. If you read a general-audience book about Europe or the English-speaking nations, flower arranging will likely not be mentioned at all.  Ikebana is one of the distinctive arts that developed hundreds of years ago in Japan. It has thrived and been widely and continuously taught. Western flower arranging is more of a commodity today, more the product of a business than an art, or a competitive activity for a relatively few hobbyists. 

• Western flower arranging is more about color and profusion, while Japanese flower arranging is more about line and restraint. One of the things I love the most about a beautiful ikebana arrangement is its representation of sculptural line and space. 

• Western flower arranging tends to emphasize flowers, while ikebana--especially some forms of it, such as ikenobo--emphasizes branches and foliage as much or more than flowers. Some of the classic forms of ikebana, like rikka, resemble small trees more than they do bunches of flowers. As a tree lover, I find that very appealing. For instance, the top photo above is a rikka design I photographed at the Ikenobo Ikebana Society office in San Francisco. The design below it is a Western-style design I created for Laura, my daughter-in-law, when she gave birth to my first granddaughter, Skye.