April 2023 - Life is a Journey

Mother’s Kimono, Passed Down to Me

What a sustainable life!

Kimono 着物 literally means “a thing to wear” in Japanese. Until Japan opened its country to the Western world in 1868, everybody in Japan wore kimono.

…

I grew up dispising kimono as outdated when I was in Japan. Only after I moved to the US, I became more interested in and more attached to this unique form of dressing.

In the tea ceremony, the rules for each movement of the body are based on the assumption that the practitioner is dressed in kimono. For example… With the long sleeves of kimono, how would you move your arms so that you would look most graceful when pouring hot water into the tea bowl?

When I started practicing tea ceremony 13 or 14 years ago, I thought wearing kimono for every practice would be the fastest to improve my practice. Or maybe the other way around. I might have decided to practice tea ceremony so that I can wear kimono more often.

Since then, whenever I went back to Japan, I would bring back my mother’s old kimono. She is shorter than I am, but kimono is made longer so that the length can be adjusted depending on the height of the person. One crucial point is the length of the arms. Luckily my mother has long arms for her height, about the same length as mine.

The photo above is my mother’s most casual kimono. The fabric is silk pongee, called tsumugi 紬 in Japanese.

I remember her doing laundry wearing this kimono. I must have been 3 years old. It’s now hard to believe that she did such house chores in kimono. But over half a century ago, kimono was more prevalent in Japan. Kimono was the default wardrobe in my grandmother’s days!

This kimono is a more formal one. Also made of silk, but the texture of the fabric is smoother and softer than the first one. The small crescent pattern is spread all over. This type of design is called komon 小紋.

I remember she wore this kimono when she came to kindergarten to pick me up after my first overnight trip.

This black kimono with arabesque pattern has a distinct texture. The fabric is thin and light, unique characteristics of Oshima Tsumugi 大島紬.

This was my mother’s spring kimono. The pattern is cherry blossoms, and I always wear this for tea gatherings in the spring.

Can you believe the kimono my mother was wearing (the photo on the right) and the one I’m wearing (the photo on the left) are the same kimono?

My mother’s kimono used to have quite a light greenish color. Over time stains appeared and she got tired of the color. No, she didn’t throw it away. Rather, my mother took it to a professional whose speciality is to redye kimono. He redyed it to golden yellow. With this color, the old stain disappeared!

Now I wear this kimono in the autumn.

Silk fabrics are amazingly durable. With the way kimono is structured, people in different sizes can wear the same kimono, like my mother and I. By redying, an old kimono is reborn with a totally new look!

The era of mass production and mass consumption is over. By enjoying my mother’s kimono in daily life, I’m ever more appreciating what kimono teaches me: The value of a sustainable life.

How Merchants in Sakai Made Use of Tea Ceremony

Or did tea ceremony make use of Merchants in Sakai?

(Photo: Nanshuji Temple in Sakai – Wikimedia Commons)

Many history books about Japanese tea ceremony introduce the so-called tea masters that followed Murata Juko. Among them are listed as below:

Takeno Jo-o武野紹鴎 (1502–1555) a merchant in Sakai
Kitamuki Dochin 北向道陳(1504–1562) a doctor in Sakai
Tsuda Sotatsu 津田宗達(1504–1566) a merchant in Sakai
Tsuda Sokyu 津田宗久(?–1591) a son of Tsuda Sotatsu, a merchant in Sakai
Imai Sokyu 今井宗久(1520–1593) a son-in-law of Takeno Jo-o, a merchant in Sakai
Sen no Rikyu 千利休(1522–1591) the first grandmaster of the tea ceremony, a merchant in Sakai

Where is Sakai? Why are there so many merchants in Sakai on the list?

Sakai is a port city just south of Osaka (where I was born and raised!). In the 16^th century, merchants in Sakai benefitted greatly from lucrative trades between China as well as Portugal and Spain. Japan was in the middle of the civil war, and merchants in Sakai accumulated enormous wealth by trading things such as guns and leather (used for making armor).

The city of Sakai enjoyed a period of autonomous governance by such wealthy merchants. In his correspondence dated August 17, 1561, Gaspar Vilela (1526 – 1572), a Portuguese Jesuit missionary to Japan, wrote that Sakai was “an enormous city with abundant merchants. This city is governed by consuls like Venice in Italy.”

“Once you enter the tearoom, everybody is treated equally.” Such a rule in the tea ceremony was formed during this period. This egalitarian aspect, which was so unique in feudal Japan, is likely thanks to the economic power of those merchants in Sakai.

The autonomy of Sakai, however, didn’t last long. Soon the city had to give in to the superstar samurai Oda Nobunaga 織田信長 (1534–1582). Sakai escaped being burnt down by Nobunaga, mainly thanks to its rich trove of tea utensils.

Among the many samurai warlords, called daimyo大名, Oda Nobunaga gained power rapidly. He is regarded as one of the first great unifiers of Japan. In the course of gaining power, Nobunaga told Sakai to pay 20,000 Kan貫, a significant amount of money, if the city wanted to avoid being attacked by Nobunaga’s soldiers. Sakai accepted Nobunaga’s demand. Sakai’s merchants became Nobunaga’s powerful and reliable financiers.

Nobunaga took advantage of the valuable tea utensils, as explained previously. In order to survive, merchants in Sakai chose to go along with Nobunaga. The tea ceremony escaped his wrath.

Here you find contradictory aspects that co-exist within the practice of the tea ceremony. On one hand, the practice of tea allows you to contemplate the mystery of life, a spiritual aspect. On the other hand, the objects used for the tea ceremony represent monetary and material wealth, something quite secular.

I doubt if the tea ceremony could have survived for more than five hundred years if it only represented the spiritual side of life. The tea ceremony fueled human greed. And I believe this aspect shouldn’t be ignored when explaining the tea ceremony’s long-lasting history. Was it Nobunaga or merchants in Sakai that took advantage of the tea ceremony, or was it the tea ceremony that took advantage of the desire of human beings?

Thunderstorms come in Autumn in Japan

Two Poems about storms in Hhyakunin Isshu 百人一首

Photo by Shlomo Shalev on Unsplash

The word “thunderstorm” is a synonym for “typhoon” for me, who grew up in Japan.

When the typhoon approaches, first the air feels a little moist and lukewarm. Then large drops of rain start to hit. The wind picks up. You hurry to go inside the house.

You shut all the windows and doors. Most Japanese houses have “amado 雨戸,” storm shutters outside the windows, to protect the glass pane from being broken by objects flown by the gust. You make sure to close all the amado.

It’s dark in the house, losing natural light coming in from the windows. In case the furious wind knocks down power lines, you make sure you have flashlights and candles around.

While the violent gust and the rain continue, you stay inside the house, sometimes feeling the entire house shaking. You hope the roof tiles won’t be blown away.

Several hours later, normally the next morning, both the wind and the rain are gone. The beautiful blue sky spreads above, as if nothing terrible ever happened. The typhoon is gone.

“Two hundred and ten days 二百十日,” is a word people in Japan used to refer to typhoons. 210 days after the first day of the spring, normally September 1st or 2nd, is said to be the day we must be most careful about typhoons. With climate change, this term may be already extinct, but for centuries, autumn has been the season of typhoons in Japan.

In Hyakunin Isshu, there are two poems that read about storms. And they are both poems of autumn.

22/100 文屋康秀 by Bunya no Yasuhide

吹くからにFuku kara ni

秋の草木もAki no kusa kimo
しをるれば Shiworureba
むべ山風をMube yama kaze wo
嵐といふらむArashi to iuramu.

The following is the English translation by William N. Porter (1909).

THE mountain wind in autumn time
  Is well called ‘hurricane’;
It hurries canes and twigs along,
  And whirls them o’er the plain
  To scatter them again.

69/100 能因法師 by No-in Hoshi

嵐吹く Arashi fuku
みむろの山のMimuro no yama no
もみぢ葉はMomiji-ba wa
竜田の川のTatsuta no kawa no
にしきなりけりNishiki nari keri.

The following is the English translation by William N. Porter (1909).

THE storms, which round Mount Mimuro
  Are wont to howl and scream,
Have thickly scattered maple leaves
  Upon Tatsuta’s stream;
  Like red brocade they seem.

Father, Thank You for Buying Me This Kimono 40+ Years Ago!

And I wish you could see me cherish it

Kimono 着物 literally means “a thing to wear” in Japanese. Until Japan opened its country to the Western world in 1868, everybody in Japan wore kimono.

When I was growing up in the ’60s, my mother was wearing kimonos quite often. I remember her doing laundry in her casual working kimono. She wore a little fancy kimono when she came to kindergarten to pick me up after my first overnight trip.

One of our neighbors in downtown Osaka was a kimono cleaning shop. In front of the entrance, they would hang a long fabric (a disassembled kimono) spread out using bamboo sticks, to dry it.

Back then, the kimono was still pretty much a part of daily life for Japanese people.

The photo above is me when I was 14. The small print at the edge of the photo says it was 1976. I’m leaning against my father’s car. (Was it Toyota Mark II?) I’m wearing the first kimono that my father bought me. Obviously, I’m not in a good mood.

Together with the rapid economic growth in the ‘60s and ‘70s, people in Japan were hurried “modernizing,” which meant “westernizing,” their lifestyle.

At the age of 14, I was already quite well “modernized.” I despised almost everything Japanese as outdated. The kimono was no exception. I remember very well cursing my father what a waste of money to buy me such an expensive, useless piece of cloth.

Who would have imagined that almost half a century later I’m cherishing the same piece of cloth?

Only after I moved to the US, I started wearing the kimono more often. First for such occasions like a company Christmas party. Being Japanese, I’m short. My body is not curvy. No evening dress would look stunning on me. But my kimono!

None of my co-workers nor their spouses would be dressed the same as me. Everybody at the party would say, “How beautiful you are!” Their words of admiration were the biggest incentive for me to wear a kimono in the US.

In the beginning, it was a struggle to wear it. It used to take me two hours to get dressed. But gradually I got better at it, and now I can pretty much finish putting on my kimono within 30 minutes.

Maybe I could make it a little shorter, but I enjoy the whole process of putting it on and experiencing the change in my posture, my range of movement, and even my breathing speed. I need about thirty minutes of transcending time from Akemi in jeans to Akemi in kimono.

This is another kimono my father bought me. I wore it for my college graduation.

During the pandemic, I dressed myself in the same kimono to celebrate my birthday. It’s been 19 years since my father passed away.

Sorry, Father, for not realizing this much earlier. The kimonos you bought for me are beautiful. I now cherish them. I should have asked you to buy me more while you were still alive! I’m hoping you can still see me in these kimonos from where you are now…

My Tsubo-niwa, My Oasis

This tiny garden is my oasis. Every morning I look out from the window of my den. I wonder how many clouds are hanging in the sky, if any bird is resting on the maple tree, or which branch of the Buddha’s yew is turning brown.

This Tsubo-niwa (坪庭, a Japanese word for a tiny garden), is my own creation.

It used to be a boring yard with lawn with no hedge to hide from the street. I seldom spent time looking at it when working 9 to 5, so I wondered why I had to have someone come and mow every so often in the summer.

My days of going to work every day were over. I turned the also tiny den facing the yard into my tea room/ home office/ Ikebana studio. Sitting in the den, looking out in the window, got tired of the dull green grass, I ask myself, “Am I going to keep paying for mowing this unappreciated lawn forever? For what?”

So I ripped off the lawn one day.

I went to several places hunting for gravel, found the one I liked, and got 60 bags of gravel.

I lined up concrete blocks on the borderline with our neighbor’s property so that the gravel won’t run over our neighbor’s front yard.

On the naked ground, I spread weed barrier fabric. I placed stepping stones creating a path to meander around.

On top of the fabric I spread gravel. 56 bags of them. I smoothed them out.

I worked on the yard for the whole week. Maybe longer than 9 to 5. Until I declared, “done!”

Now almost seven years later, the Buddha’s yew trees I planted on the hedge have grown almost as tall as I. The height of the trees is uneven, but what can I do? Each tree has its own pace to grow. I will wait patiently till they grow tall and wide enough to trim evenly.

The ground cover that I planted, hoping to imitate the moss of the moss garden in Kyoto, never covers the entire surface I wish it to. But I refuse to add any synthetic fertilizer. The only fertilizer is the fallen leaves and weeds I pluck out of the ground.

There is never a moment that the garden looks “perfect”. Always some fraud. Some branches of the yew look brown. Some strange shoots are sprouting on the ground. Some birds might have brought the seeds with their droppings.

This tiny, ever-changing Tsubo-newa, is my favorite nature where I live.

Engrave Spirit of Japanese Tradition in Love for Kawaii Fashion

Presentations of Two Youngsters from Kyoto Awed Me – 2

The week in Seattle has indeed become in their words, a life-changing experience for the two TASK students from Kyoto, Japan. I’m relieved and happy to hear that. The daily snapshots of their visit appear on the TASK website.

The highlight for me was the presentations they conducted at Seattle University on the 6^th day. The audience, mostly design students as well as faculty members, were awed by the impeccable skill and precision of the TASK students.

I got permission from the students to share their slides with you here. I will try my best to accurately summarize their presentations in English on this blog site.

Woodworking by Sakura Nakane

“Hi, my name is Sakura Nakane. I’m a Junior at TASK, studying woodworking.”

“My introduction to Japan’s traditional woodworking was, rather sadly, the natural disaster that hit Japan in March 2011. A grave tsunami hit the northern part of Japan and many people lost their lives, homes, and belongings.

A TV program showed that a lot of furniture, like chests and drawers, which were made with Japan’s traditional woodworking techniques, survived. Because they were built with no nails, they were restored by replacing only the part that was damaged. None of the modern, mass-manufactured furniture using nails, on the other hand, could be salvaged once damaged.

When I watched the program, I was very impressed by the resilience and sustainability of Japan’s traditional woodworking. ‘I want to master this wonderful technique!’ was my reason to study at TASK.”

Apply Established Techniques to the New Lifestyle

“The technique of Japan’s traditional woodworking is admirable. But I’m not a fan of so-called Japan’s traditional design. They look outdated. How can we apply this technique to create items that are more fitted to our modern lifestyle?

One assignment was a proposal to a famous Japanese sweets maker with over 300 years of history, to combine their established brand and the English custom of high tea. The photo above is a serving shelf. Utilizing bamboo crafting, woodworking, metal crafting, and ceramics, we proposed a new style of enjoying Japanese tradition.”

Create What I Truly Love

“The serving shelf is a nice try, but I wouldn’t necessarily want it at home. It’s not kawaii (=cute) enough. Can I create a fashion item so kawaii that I would love to use it for myself?”

“In Japan, we celebrate coming of age when we turn 20. I’ve decided to wear my own creation to celebrate my coming of age. I got inspiration both from Maiko geta, sandals worn by apprentice geisha, and from Rocking Horse shoes designed by Vivienne Westwood (my favorite fashion designer)!”

“The photo above is my creation, named Rin. The challenge was to determine how much I should carve the heels. Carving too much, then they lose the strength to hold the body. Carving too little, then they look boring…”

“For my coming-of-age celebration, I had my pictures taken. I chose two different Furisode (long sleeved) kimono and obi. Of course, I’m wearing Rin!”

(Then Sakura showed a video of her preparing a planer, one of the main tools she uses for her woodworking.)

See a video of Sakura preparing her planer on Instagram.

“A planer is a tool we use often. Each time we use this tool, we carefully sharpen the blade until the surface shines like a mirror. We use two different types of whetstones one rough, the other fine. Each whetstone has to have a smooth, flat surface. So we start smoothing the surface of the whetstone with another tool.”

See a video of Sakura smoothing the surface of the planer

“The body of the planer needs tending, too. We level the surface of the planer. Using another tool, we make sure that the planer has a straight, smooth surface. Depending on the condition of the planer, it takes from 30 minutes to 3 hours to get the planer ready for use.”

Demo Time

Sakura fixed a wooden board on the desk, and took out her planer. Before using the tool, she carefully examined the blade.

Once she made sure the tool was conditioned, she demonstrated how to use the tool. It looked effortless.

She let several audience members to try planing the board, assisting each person. It was a special experience for the audience.

Beautiful Plates for Happy Meals

Presentations of Two Youngsters from Kyoto Awed Me – 1

The highlight for me was the presentations they conducted at Seattle University on the 6^th day. The audience, mostly design students as well as faculty members, were highly impressed by the skill and precision of the TASK students.

I got permission from the students to share their slides with you here. I will try my best to accurately summarize their presentations in English on this blog site.

Japanese Ceramic Art by Rena Yamamoto

“Hi everyone! I’m Rena, a senior at Traditional Art Supercollege of Kyoto (TASK). I’m studying ceramic art.”

“I believe people’s ultimate goal is happiness. And when do people feel happy most often in everyday life? When having meals with their loved ones! I want to create beautiful plates and bowls to be used for their meals… That’s the reason why I decided to study ceramic art.”

Start with Tools, then Clay

“The first thing my teacher taught us at TASK was not how to make ceramics. Rather, he taught us how to make tools to make ceramic objects. He said, ‘It all starts with making your own tools that perfectly fit your hands. Skip this process and you will never create anything great.’

“The next thing I learned was how to knead clay. Chrysanthemum kneading, as it’s called, because of the pattern shaped from the process. This kneading is critical to eliminate any air bubbles from the clay.

We practiced this kneading process for three months. Only after mastering this process can we finally sit in front of the potter’s wheel.”

Repetition is Shortcut to Mastery

(Rena showed a video of her kneading the clay and “throwing” plates on the potter’s wheel.

Here is a video of Rena kneading clay on Instagram.

Here is a video of Rena throwing plates on Instagram. Using the tools she made on her own, she shapes the plates with such high precision.)

The assignment was to throw as many as 100 of them. Repetition is crucial to master the craft.”

“After throwing plates on the potter’s wheel, the process continues.

Let them dry for a day
Shape the bottom with the metal tool we made ourselves
Dry them for a week (see the photo on the left above)
Fire them in a kiln at a lower temperature (950 °C /1742 °F) for 3 days or until the water is completely evaporated from the clay (see the photo on the right above)
Apply the glaze evenly
Fire them in a kiln at a higher temperature (1250 °C /2282 °F). It takes about 4 days to cool down.

“Next it’s time to paint the design on the surface. You boil the gelatine in a pot and apply the hot gelatine on the surface with the cloth. The gelatine is like the glue that holds the colors of the paint.”

“The paint we use is dry powder. You add medium to make it liquid. You keep on mixing until the paint has a consistent texture, for at least ten minutes.

I will demonstrate how I apply paint on the surface shortly. Let me show you some of the works I made at TASK so far.”

“The photo on the left above is a tea bowl I made when I was a sophomore. The assignment was to master several Japanese traditional patterns by repeating the process.

The one on the right is my recent work. Based on the traditional motifs, I designed and painted from scratch. It took me three months to complete five plates.”

“I made the one on the left in my freshmen year.

I like goldfish! I want to depict their graceful figures with fine lines. As shown in the photo on the right, my latest focus of the study is drawing lines with precision.”

Demo Time

Rena then moved from the podium to the desk situated in the center of the classroom. She first displayed her two plates. While the audience was looking closely at her work, impressed by the beautiful and meticulous design, Rena placed tools to be used for demonstration: A turner, paint brushes, a pallet of paint already mixed with medium, and plates with gelatin coating on them.

She placed a plate on the turner and started spinning it. Once the spin of the plate became stable, she picked up the brush, applied a little of the paint, and started creating the thin circle closer to the rim.

Although many people were present, the classroom was totally quiet. Everybody’s attention was solely on Rena. Rena, understandably, got nervous at first. But by the time she took off her shoes and crossed her legs on the chair, her razor-sharp concentration kicked in.

The Joy of Improvisation

Preparing for the upcoming Ikebana demonstration

This week is all about Ikebana for me. My online Ikebana classes are scheduled for tomorrow and my in-person classes are on Saturday. And there is an Ikeabna demonstration at Cherry Blossom Festival in Seattle Center on Sunday.

This morning I went to the local wholesale florist to purchase flower materials for the Saturday in-person and for the demonstration on Sunday.

Demonstrations are always fun as well as horrifying because almost nothing goes as previously planned.

I first rough sketch how I envision creating arrangements. The demo time is 45 minutes, so I figure I will make 4 to 5 different types of arrangements. The first one is the most basic, and I will explain how the three stems define the basic structure of the arrangement.

Then I will transit to showing several freestyle arrangements, each of which has some particular themes. Am I emphasizing the beauty of lines? Rhythm of the materials? The color contrast? Or combinations of all three elements? I choose containers and flower materials to match the styles I have in mind.

Then I go to the flower shop. Chances are that I can’t find some of the materials I want. On the fly I either have to ditch the plan to make that arrangement or look for materials that are close enough.

Today I was lucky to find materials for four out of five arrangements I planned. After I came back, I tried to put together each of them and took photos.

The first photo is a very basic one.

Next is a tall arrangement with alstroemeria and veronica.

Palm leaves and anthurium

The name of these tulips is “Shogun.” I couldn’t help but buy them!

No matter how much I prepare beforehand, however, demonstrations rarely go exactly the way I expect. I might cut branches too short or keep them too long. Since I arrange flowers from behind, The condition of the flower materials may change by then.

The best thing I can do on stage on Sunday, is that I enjoy myself creating something new and beautiful every moment.

The Spring Sunlight, and Sakura

Found in a Poem from Hyakunin Isshu

Hyakunin Isshu 百人一首 is a classical Japanese anthology of one hundred waka poems by one hundred poets compiled in the 13^th century. I once memorized them all in my high school days, but almost half a century later, I remember only a handful.

When prompted with sunlight, I was happily surprised that I could still recite this one poem by heart.

33/100 紀友則　by Kino Nomonori
久方の　Hisakata no
光のどけき Hikari nodokeki
春の陽に Haru no hi ni
しづ心なく Shizu kokoro naku
花の散るらむ Hana no chiruramu.

The following is the English translation by William N. Porter (1909).

THE spring has come, and once again
The sun shines in the sky;
So gently smile the heavens, that
It almost makes me cry,
When blossoms droop and die.

Even the most gentle sunlight in the spring can’t stop sakura (cherry) blossoms from falling. Only Impermanence is forever…

The Serenity and the Beauty of Tea Gathering

In response to the April 2023 DEP Photography prompt and weekly prompt 27/52

Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

I was away from daily writing while hosting two students from Kyoto. After hectic (though deeply meaningful) days with them, I had an opportunity to enjoy the serenity moment by attending Chaji 茶事, the most formal tea gathering, last weekend.

Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

First, the guests (three of us) were drawn to the waiting room. The hosts use their Northwestern-style living room for this space. They first served us a glass of warm water. Inside were several cherry blossom petals, slightly salted.

We guests moved to the bench overlooking the beautiful Japanese garden. The hosts have spent 9 years carefully landscaping the yard once filled with wild trees. We enjoyed the scenery for a while, purified our hands and our mouth with water, then went into the tea room.

We went into the tea room. On the alcove, there was a scroll written by a Zen monk of Daitokuji Temple in Kyoto. It says 福寿海無量, meaning, happiness and joy can be infinite like the ocean. We the guests took time to look closely at the scroll and the kettle, then were seated.

The host began with serving us a light meal called Kaiseki. He first brought a black tray with rice, miso soup, and sashimi dish (see the first photo above), then brought in sake.

One by one the host brings in 2-3 additional dishes, including this meticulously decorated soup dish. Everything is carefully prepared and cooked by the host.

The host sometimes serves each one of us guests himself.

The shiny black and the vivid red… I just love the contrasting, rich colors of the Urushi lacquerware!

Once the meal is over, the host brings in sweets in a stacked box. Oh, the sweets are also handmade by the host!

After having the sweets, the guests leave the tea room and return to the bench by the garden. It’s like an intermission of the concert.

Time to go back to the tea room. Now the scroll is taken down, and a vase of flowers is placed on the alcove.

The host first serves us thick tea. The matcha green tea looks almost like paste rather than liquid. Thick tea is the highlight of the tea gathering.

Another kind of sweets, this time rather dry, are served.

For this tea gathering, the couple divided the labor of a host. The wife served us thin tea. You can see the bowl has a beautiful cherry blossom pattern.

So does the Natsume, the thin tea container. The hosts paid close attention to choosing each tea utensil.

The whole procedure took almost 4 hours. It must have taken more than twice as long for the hosts to prepare for this tea gathering, including cooking and making sweets themselves.

Enjoying Chaji 茶事, this type of formal gathering, both as hosts and guests, is the very reason why we practice tea ceremony. I’m so thankful to the hosts for their dedication to making this gathering a memorable experience for all of us.