All gardens are modelled after the notion of the garden
representing paradise, or an idealised state of being. This idea is inherent in
the Zen garden as with every other type of garden. Given the Zen viewpoint
outlined above then one can understand that the Zen garden (that is a garden
created through a Zen perspective) will be rich in potential to communicate and
‘interact’ with the viewer. The garden will become a perfect vehicle for
symbolic content, and that through the inclusion of symbolic content the
experience of the garden can be enriched even further. It should be noted
though that any symbolism expressed in a garden is only as a finger pointing
out a direction, in itself the symbolic content has no concrete reality nor absolute
meaning. Several Zen temple gardens in Japan today are associated with symbolic
content. The garden at Daisen-in (part of the Daitoku-ji complex in Kyõto is a
case in point. Initially laid out at the beginning of the 16th
century, the stonework of the garden is a masterpiece of garden design. Drawing
much on the concepts of Chinese landscape painting, the garden layout has a
powerful imagery that seems to be associated with a depiction of the types of
landscapes so beloved by Sung painters. Today the visitor to the garden is
regaled with the interpretation of the garden being symbolic of the passage of
the individual through life, as represented by the birth of the flow of water
high in the mountains as it subsequently makes its way to the sea. Every stone
grouping and many individual stones that make up the bulk of the garden are
ascribed symbolic content or ‘meaning’, and the visitor may well come away with
the idea that a Zen garden is primarily composed of symbolic content. It must
be said that it is highly unlikely that this was in the minds of the original
creator or creators of the garden. Far more possible is that they sought to
create a general notion of landscape, to express something of the quality of Chinese
landscape painting. The role of any symbolic content in a Zen garden is to be a
finger pointing, directing attention inwards, not to present an external idea
or interpretation of the garden in the mind of the viewer. Many contemporary
garden creators have adopted the notion of the garden holding symbolic content.
Shigemori Mirei, a well known 20th century garden creator
responsible for revitalising the garden tradition in the modern era, created
many karesansui gardens, which often
carried as their principal modus symbolic content, he realised the narrative
potential of the karesansui garden.
The Zen
garden is not the romanticized vision (mono
no aware) of landscape as espoused by the Heian era (785-1185) courtly
poets, but a vision that saw landscape as capable of expressing profound
spiritual teaching. Mono no aware was
a term that can be translated as the ’pathos of things’[1].
Though the term had a Buddhist resonance, in recognizing the fragile
seasonality of all living things, its emphasis is on the emotional response of
the viewer, for example the brief glory of cherry blossom. The Zen view
penetrates even deeper than emotion, attempting to see the landscape beyond
apparent form. In the Zen view all matter seen with even a trace of ego-mind is
an illusion. Absolute reality lies beyond the complexity of such a view, indeed
it cannot be expressed by an intellectual process which inevitably brings its
own limitations and parameters. Musō
Soseki (夢窓 疎石, 1275 – 1351)
the greatest Rinzai teacher of his day wrote the following poem, entitled’ A
Rhyme on an Artificial Mountain’:
Without a speck of dust
A high peak rises,
Without a drop of water
A loud waterfall plunges.
On one or two evenings
The wind and the moon
Enable the right person
To create and play within the scene.[2]
The artificial
mountain of the title refers to a ‘mountain’ in a garden setting. In the
Chinese garden this could literally be a piling up of stones to make a tall
mountain-like feature. The Japanese preferred to make a similar statement of intent,
but by using single pieces of stone standing upright, or stones grouped into
arrangements by the mystic numbers 3, 5, or 7. By opening the poem with the
line, “Without a speck of dust”, Musō indicates the scenery being observed
has been created by an enlightened mind, and hence the scenery is able to take
on a transcendental aspect and become an extension of sacred space.
When the
mind sees without discrimination, sees beyond the limitations of duality, then
it is possible to see a mountain in a stone. To see a ‘high peak’ rising out of
a garden stone, and likewise to see, hear and feel a waterfall without the
presence of water. An arrangement of stones that simply suggests a waterfall
would require insight to allow a viewer to see and hear as a ‘loud waterfall
plunges’. It requires effort and to a certain extent training to look at
landscape in non-conceptual ways to fully grasp what Musō is saying. More than
to just grasp intellectually the concept, but to see a stone and experience a
mountain; to see a dry waterfall (such as the one at Tenryū-ji temple,
reputedly designed by Musō) and experience the full knowing of water flowing.
To the Zen mind, to see things as they are, in their ‘original state’, is to
grasp something beyond duality, beyond relational forms. It is to intuitively
see and grasp the essential nature of the object in question. To see something
in an undifferentiated state, is not to apply judgement nor discrimination, as
these attributes are something we bring with us, they are not part of the
original state.
In the
final two lines of the poem Musō indicates a way to approach a garden
landscape. The broad undifferentiated gaze ‘enables the right person,
to create and play within the scene.’ The ‘right person’ referred to
here is someone who has grasped the actuality of non-duality, someone who sees
without discrimination. Furthermore because this person sees in this way then
they become enabled to ‘create and play within the scene. That is they are able
to conjure mountains out of stones, to create in their own imagination,
landscapes that can be traversed, explored, discovered and enjoyed, every bit
as much as if one were travelling through nature itself. In the liberation from
duality comes a sense of play with the very nature of perceived reality, an
educated person such as Musō, brings to the play a deep knowledge of Chinese
poetry and literature, as well as a appreciation of his own native landscape
settings. Just as a child can take beach sand and pebbles and construct a world
of its own making, one that is as embodied as a landscape untainted by a speck
of dust.
Zen
recognizes that essentially any work of art is “a subjective projection into
the world of an artificial reality.”[3]
A stone is not a mountain, nor raked gravel flowing water. What is important is
the heart-mind that sees beyond apparent form in whatever guise it may appear.
Zen is saying all apparent notions of reality are ultimately illusory. Yet the
illusion can be turned upon itself, by recognizing the illusion the viewer
comes closer to seeing ‘true’ reality. In this light even ‘ true’ and
‘illusion’ are themselves subjective terms. When a viewer sees through such
paradoxical notions, then he or she steps closer to seeing all things as inseparable
and wholly interdependent. The garden one looks at is an extension of oneself,
and the viewer is another element of the garden. All matter, animate or
inanimate are patterns of energy manifested in form. Form appears to the mind,
and is so created by mind. Yet mind and form are also inseparable in their
interdependence.
“One should not take outward beauty for
reality. He who does not understand this mystery will not obtain the truth.” [4]
 |
| Daichi-ji, Shiga Prefecture |
“One particle of dust is raised and the great earth lies
therein; one flower blooms, and the universe rises with it. The inner treasure
is the essence of the mind, the Buddha-nature or spiritual consciousness, that which
sees and grasps things without deliberation or definitions.” ”[5]
 |
| Ryugin-an, Kyoto |
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