• Stroll Garden
• Tea Garden
• Natural Garden
• Sand and Stone Garden
• Flat Garden

Every day as I stroll through the Garden, I ponder the same question: What is the common thread that brings these unique spaces together into the single category of a Japanese garden? The answer seems to lie in their common design intent, which is more fundamental than the form or components. For me, nothing else ties all of these gardens together except for the fact that historically Japanese gardens are created around and inspired by the native landscape of Japan—in other words, by Nature itself.

Sacred rocks at Funami

Amehare

Rocks and Water

Mountains and oceans represent much of the landscape of Japan, and they are reduced to the two primary and enduring components in the Japanese garden—rocks and water.

In ancient Japan, a group of huge boulders was often the site of sacred rites or worship of nature. For example, rituals were conducted at the boulders on Oki-no-Shima Island, the heart of Munakata Grand Shrine in Kyushu, as early as 4th century. A group of such rocks is called iwakura or iwasaka meaning “rock seat” or “rock boundary,” respectively. While the original meaning and function of the boulders has changed over time, these rocks are thought to be the origin of rocks as the most pronounced element of the Japanese garden today.

Japanese indigenous belief also considered a body of water, whether a river, lake, or ocean, a sacred entity. Forms of water sanctuaries vary: from a natural pond called shinchi or “deity pond” to the pebble-strewn sacred precinct of Ise Shrine for example. The “empty” space at Ise Shrine illustrates the customary use of pebbles as tangible and accessible forms of rock only to represent visually the notion of prohibited space. Shrines and torii gates were erected to delineate the entry to a sacred space with a mountain or ocean beyond, such as Itsukushima Shrine on Miyajima Island. Water has been featured in the center of Japanese gardens from the beginning of 7th century (essentially the beginning of Japanese garden history) and its presence, small or large, real or abstract, is consistent throughout the entire course of Japanese garden history.

Garden of Tenryu-ji, Kyoto

Gnurou

“Niwa,” the Garden

Early Japanese literature provides us with a glimpse of the origin of the Japanese word for garden with the term niwa. The word “niwa” as it is used today means garden, though it appears to have evolved from the earlier meaning of an “environment” or “territory.” In the Manyoshu (or Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves, a compilation of 5th–8th century poems), there is a poem about a fisherman’s boat floating in his “niwa” on Muko Bay (present-day Bay of Kobe). Niwa in this context is his “fishing ground” or “territory,” representing a much larger area or context than the “garden” of the present-day definition. Moving from a hunting-gathering to a rice-growing culture, the early settlers’ environment or “niwa” was confined to and around their dwellings. However, as linguistic history has evolved, the word niwa now has the sole meaning of “garden.” What we call the Japanese garden today, conceptually represents our “environment.”

The Japanese attitude toward nature is evident in the Japanese garden as an “environment.” Objects such as stone lanterns and other manmade features assert the presence of man in the garden. Yet man’s attempts to recreate nature inevitably fall short of the sublime quality of nature itself. Understanding that one can never totally capture the beauty of wild nature, the gardener continues to strive nonetheless for that unattainable goal, knowing we are always finally subordinate to its incomparable beauty. Perhaps this is the key to an authentic Japanese garden.

“The word ‘mitate’ means ‘to see an object, not in the form that was originally intended for it, but as another thing,’ and was originally a literary term used in describing the technique of writing kanshi (Chinese poems) and Japanese waka,” according to the Omotesenke School of Tea Ceremony in Kyoto. The concept of mitate was appropriated by early masters of the Tea Ceremony who sought to offer a way to renew one’s spirit through a disciplined approach to a simple act of everyday life: the making of green tea. The masterful eye of the tea connoisseur was able to re-envision interesting found objects or objects from everyday life and integrate them gracefully into the aesthetics of Chanoyu or “hot water for tea,” the term used to describe this lesson in simplicity and awareness, a practice known commonly in English as the Tea Ceremony. Mitate objects used by the early masters of chanoyu embodied the essence of rustic, unpretentious simplicity—an explicit goal of this unique art form. Where elaborate and expensive imported ceramics were essential to earlier forms of aristocratic tea, simple objects such as crudely formed farmers’ rice bowls, for example, were discovered to be the perfect vessel with which to practice this unpretentious new style of tea. An ordinary water flask could be re-envisioned as a flower container, and the entry hatch of a ship could become the tiny nijiri-guchi doorway of a tea house.

William Sutton

Following the lead of tea masters, Japanese gardeners began to incorporate the concept of mitate into their work through the adaptive re-use of old objects into the design of new gardens. At the Portland Japanese Garden, you will find examples of mitate throughout the Garden in such things as old roof tiles embedded in garden paths or used as decorative borders and drains, ballast stones from old ships that docked in Portland used as paths and borders throughout the Garden, granite slabs from the old Civic Auditorium that form bridges and pathways, and in the rustic millstones that are used as stepping stones in some areas of the Garden.

The Portland Japanese Garden itself is an example of adaptive re-use. The 5.5 acre Garden site was formerly the site of the old Oregon Zoo, re-envisioned as the perfect site for a Japanese garden by civic leaders and brilliantly designed by Professor Takuma Tono of Tokyo Agricultural University in the early 1960s.

Learn more about this and other fascinating Japanese perspectives on the arts with a visit and guided tour of the Portland Japanese Garden.

David M Cobb

Wherever you travel in Japan during O-Shogatsu, the traditional celebration of New Year’s, you will find Sho-Chiku-Bai or pine, bamboo, and plum displayed at residential doorways and the entrance of temples, shrines, and public and commercial facilities alike. These displays are known as kadomatsu, or “the guardians of the gate,” with the boughs of the three plants tied together arranged in various forms. A common interpretation is that the evergreen pine tree is the symbol of constancy and longevity; bamboo represents uprightness and resilience and the plum—the first blossom of spring—symbolizes purity and provides a sense of renewal. Accordingly, these three plants also occupy prominent positions in traditional Japanese gardens.

Pine (Sho 松)

Pine trees are perhaps the first plants that come to mind when one thinks of a Japanese garden. Pine trees typically reside in the garden as a focal point or the core element around which other garden elements are arranged. A pine tree is often located at the entrance to a home to “welcome” and/or say “farewell” to its guests. The practice originated from a similar Chinese tradition. Pines common in Japanese gardens of the Pacific Northwest are Japanese black pine, Japanese red pine, and the native shore pine. All three are two-needle pines, as opposed to three-needle pines such as the Ponderosa pine or five-needled white pines for example.

Although the three varieties black, red, and shore pines differ in their growth habits, they all require the two basic maintenance techniques called “candling” and “needling,” each applied once a year in spring and fall respectively. Every spring (typically in May), a pine tree sprouts multiple new growths that looks like a “candle” and these candles are shortened and some removed to control their growth for the remaining year. Needling is literally the removal of old and unwanted needles from each and every branch, allowing sunlight to reach every layer of branches. Needling is performed in the winter, often with snow, and has an absolute deadline—New Year’s Day. The removal of stiff and pointed old needles is the most undesirable but rewarding task the pine tree is most beautiful after this work. I remember as far back as my middle school years needling for long hours on a ladder. For the gardener’s family, this activity marked the completion of one year and carried in the New Year with a complete sense of renewal. (Needling takes place at the Portland Japanese Garden during the month of January if you would like to see the process in action.)

Bamboo (Chiku 竹)

Bamboo is a common planting, but it is used more often as a material in constructing design elements such as fencing in Japanese gardens. Quite a few Japanese bamboo species grow in the Pacific Northwest, i.e. Japanese timber, arrow, and black bamboos. Timber bamboo is perhaps the most commonly used in Japanese gardens for both planting and crafts.

Nothing more than a bamboo fence gives the sense of the Japanese garden. For a Japanese gardener, replacing old bamboo fences in a garden, like pine needling, is a must-complete task before the beginning of the New Year. In the cold winter, the gardener cleans fresh-cut bamboo canes with water. Surface dirt of the bamboo canes must be removed and wiped off without scratching their surface. Scrubbing the surface with a handful of husks of rice grains accomplishes this crude yet delicate task.

In addition to the bamboo fence, part of the gardener’s year-end is to prepare a new bamboo cover for a cistern or well, a new ladle for a water basin, and new tree supports and trellises, once again, by New Year’s Day. I remember specifically that my older brother, who is also a gardener and my mentor, used to make a bamboo flower vase out of one segment of bamboo cane at the end of each year. The simple but beautifully carved flower vase with a single branch of pine, bamboo, and plum decorated the tokonoma alcove of our humble home.

Plum (Bai 梅)

Plum flowers bring the spring in Japan. The blossoming of the plum tree travels from southern to northern Japan, the journey that takes almost four months from January in Kyushu to April in Hokkaido. Japanese plum is often called the Japanese “apricot.” Both correct and incorrect: it is somewhere in between the two species. More than three hundred types of Japanese plum/apricot have been identified and catalogued today. The trees start blooming in early January in my hometown of Kyushu, and produce fruit in May–June.

Plum trees should be planted in areas where you view or walk nearby so that in spring you can enjoy the precise yet delicate details of their individual flowers and their overall fragrance.

The plum tree and its fruits in particular are said to have the ability to disinfect/purify water, and it is customary to plant the tree nearby (and its branches over) a water basin, thus symbolic of cleansing. As a young apprentice, I was told that Japanese garden wisdom says that a plum tree must be pruned to the extent that you can climb it naked without scratches. That is to keep the tree, which shoots many branches fast and in irregular directions, under control. Most garden books recommend the pruning of a plum tree right after its flowers have bloomed like any other flowering tree. Professional Japanese gardeners, however, tend to do the pruning in late fall when they can distinguish flower buds from leaf buds and selectively leave branches with flower buds for the coming year.

After all these tasks are complete and business accounts are settled, a Japanese gardener and other craftsmen alike prepare for their own New Year. The house and work space must be dusted and swept, the ground watered, equipment and tools cleaned, and pruners sharpened and oiled. All of “them” will take a break for a few days in observance of the New Year, as does the gardener himself.

Sadafumi “Sada” Uchiyama is the Garden Curator at the Portland Japanese Garden. Sada welcomes your comments and questions and may be reached at suchiyama@japanesegarden.com.

“Fallen cherry blossoms floating on the surface of a pond … suggests the concept of the fleeting nature of life itself.”

CCC photo

Excerpted from Blueprints magazine, a publication of the National Building Museum

…We asked landscape architect, Sadafumi Uchiyama, who designed [Blossoms in a River of Sand], to talk with us about Japanese gardens in the world today.

NBM: What is a Japanese garden today?

SU: In Japan, many garden designers today are experimenting with ways of adapting traditional forms to accommodate the contemporary lifestyles. Instead of blindly accepting the traditions of the past, Japanese designers are trying to redefine those traditions and develop new styles and practices. As the Japanese way of life changes, so must the garden. Generally speaking, designers in Japan are taking a less formal approach than in the past, developing innovative ways to strip away the clichéd forms typically associated with a “Japanese” garden—the stone lanterns, water basins, and bamboo fences for example—to see what is left at the core.

Outside Japan, the traditional forms still tend to define the popular image of what constitutes a Japanese garden, although increasing familiarity with Eastern philosophies of Zen, yoga, and Eastern medicine has made people more aware of the spiritual qualities that underlie the Japanese garden. There are now a number of American designers who have been trained in Japan and some of them have begun to redefine what constitutes a Japanese garden in terms of its relationship to the American landscape and lifestyle—a very positive development.

NBM: What are the focal elements of contemporary Japanese gardens?

SU: The creative use of basic natural materials—rock, water and plants—constitutes one element that remains constant with the traditions of the past. A more naturalistic approach to garden design prevails in Japan today, rather than some of the more formal and rigid styles of the past. Another important element is attention to the relationship between interior and exterior spaces—the ongoing conversation between man and nature.

NBM: What role does the Japanese garden play in the world of contemporary Japanese architecture?

SU: Japanese designers are now re-inventing the traditional forms of Japanese gardens for use in roof gardens, wall gardens and other confined urban spaces. Maintaining the close relationship between man and nature is more difficult in modern urban life, so finding new ways to bring “green” to urban environments through creative use of balcony and rooftop spaces is important. Some really innovative work is being done with container gardening, which has great precedence in bonsai cultivation for people who have little space to garden.

NBM: As a traditionally “green” culture, how do Japanese gardens play a role in Japan looking to be “greener”?

SU: The traditional small courtyard gardens (tsubo niwa) of urban townhouses in Japan are great models for bringing the green outdoors inside in contemporary urban settings.

NBM: What concepts do Japanese gardens represent?

SU: The importance of finding tranquility, of appreciation for simplicity (less is more), of taking special care to live in harmony with nature and others—these are important concepts that are manifest in Japanese gardens. The sand-and-stone (karesansui) style of Japanese garden that was born from the Zen Buddhist tradition presents a simplified, abstract space in which to contemplate the greater questions of life. In the case of the garden we built for the Cherry Blossom Festival, the design created on a simple flat expanse of raked gravel represents fallen cherry blossoms floating on the surface of a pond, suggests the concept of the fleeting nature of life itself.

NBM: What is the influence of Japanese aesthetics on contemporary garden design?

SU: Simplicity, naturalness, variety of textures and shapes, and asymmetry in design are all Japanese aesthetic qualities that inform contemporary garden design.

NBM: What is the philosophy of gardening in contemporary Japan?

SU: Rethinking the relationship between inside and outside in contemporary architecture, remaining sensitive to the use of natural materials, and careful attention to details, fine craftsmanship, and careful construction and maintenance are all part of the philosophy of gardening in contemporary Japan.