In the past I have written about Sen Rikyu, the founder of chado, or the way of tea, who we will honor on March 28th at the Japan Information Center. Rikyuki, the 419th anniversary of his death, is not a demonstration as much as it is a commemoration. There is no running commentary engendering a more introspective attitude.
Reviewing my notes for Rikyuki each year gives me a chance to rethink the telling of the tale and inspires me to get my books out to see what else I can learn about Rikyu and chado. This inevitably leads me to delve deeper into Japanese culture.
While rereading my speech for Rikyuki a little voice reminds me that it takes ten year to do any thing well. Granted we assume we become experts in a much shorter time, but if we persist in our study the realization of how little we knew at the start of our endeavors comes as a shock. This conceit is necessary of course. How else could we ever find the confidence to begin? So in that light, I present a short history of Rikyu and chado, and look forward to next year when I will doubtlessly know more.
Sen Rikyu passed by his own hand on February 28, 1591, being ordered to do so by Togotomi Hideyoshi, the military dictator who unified Japan. Rikyu was the head tea master for Hideyoshi, a position akin to being cultural minister. When Rikyu’s popularity began to out shine that of Hideyoshi’s he was order to commit ritual suicide. (This is just one of the supposed reasons.) Once Rikyu was dead, Hideyoshi is said to have anguished over his death for many months and refused to appoint a successor.
Sen Rikyu transitioned to “soan” tea (tea of the thatched hut) from “shoin” tea (tea of the Golden Pavilion), which served as a vehicle to display one’s power and stature. Rikyu is the product of several tea masters. Their attempt to change the corrupt practice of tea in the early 16th century ultimately succeeded, but not without the tragedy of Rikyu’s death.
Juko, who lived from 1422-1502, is considered the father of the tea ceremony and is attributed to have said, “I have no taste for the full moon”. By this he meant that the moon, half hidden by clouds, is more moving than its full round image. At that time tea was centered on the use of Chinese objects. Japanese crafts were considered inferior to their Chinese counter parts.
Juko supplanted this to a tea based on Japanese utensils from the provinces. He led the rediscovery of art objects that are not completely perfect or ideal. A popular author even today, Okakura Tenshin, in his 1906 book, The Book of Tea, describes this as “a worship of the imperfect.” This sensibility is known as wabi. Juko, along with wabi, instituted the tradition of the 4.5 mat tearoom.
Takeno Jo-o (1502-1555), another tea master, built upon Juko’s work and eventually became Rikyu’s teacher. Jo-o altered the tearoom to include the plain clay walls, bamboo-lattice ceiling and the use of unfinished wood for the tokonoma that we are familiar with today. Jo-o’s tea revealed the informal beauty of the natural world. This concept, along with Okakura Tenshin’s “worship of the imperfect”, is known as wabi-sabi.
Sen Rikyu (1522-1591), the son of an affluent merchant, became Jo-o’s disciple in 1541. Rikyu’s style, which was derived from both Juko and Jo-o, was in opposition to the gaudy tea practices of the time. His tea reflects the natural environment as opposed to the cosmopolitan one that had influenced tea before and during the 16th century.
Rikyu created tearooms smaller than 4.5 mats and these rooms, being impractical spaces, served no other purpose than tea. The tiny tearooms incorporated a crawl-in entrance that forced the participants, no matter how distinguished, to bow low and crawl into the tearoom.
Rikyu molded chanoyu into a spiritual discipline and this may be what ultimately sealed his fate. Rikyu and his predecessors created and have preserved tea as it is practiced today, whether in a secluded natural setting or a large conference room. The present 16th generation Grand Tea Master Zabosai Oiemoto, carries on in the tradition of Rikyu.
Rikyu left the following poems at his death. The first composed in Chinese, the second in Japanese.
Over seventy years of life,
What trouble and concern,
I welcome the sword which,
Slays all Buddha’s, all Dharmas!
The sword, which has ever been
Close at hand,
I now throw into the sky.
Volume 5800 (4), 3/19/2010
