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| An aspect of sabi is in the quality of 'naturalness in the garden |
Sabi 錆 can be likened to a ‘sister-concept’ of
wabi 侘び, the
pair are closely woven into the fabric of aesthetics in Japan, and hence they
can both be applied to the qualities and appreciation of gardens. Whereas wabi is derived from a “feeling of
loneliness, or poverty”; sabi , encompasses a sense of unpretentious
imperfection, a knowledgeable artlessness in the execution, and a feeling of
the inevitable passage of time. Donald Richie
states that the etymological root of the term is derived from the verb sabu (‘to wane’), and susabi (a noun meaning ‘desolation’).
The term sabishi, meaning ‘lonely’ is
still in use in modern Japanese. From this we can grasp that the term sabi, is particularly concerned with
expressing a state of change or alteration that is governed principally by
temporal processes. Following the example of Matsuo Bashō, the term became associated in the eyes of
poets with the notion of bleakness, desolation and the incomplete; but the
negative connotations were tempered by a modulating qualities of stillness,
connectivity and potential. Qualities that arise because the term is rooted in an
observation derived from natural processes (as opposed to speculative
philosophy), and recognition of the cyclical movement from fullness to
emptiness to fullness.
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| Sabi is a mood qualifier, the term identifies a fleeting, sometimes barely perceptible moment. |
A garden may be perceived to be imbued with the spirit
of sabi, it is frequently a
quality associated with the Tea garden, or roji. This is because Tea
masters, such as Takeno Jōō and
Sen no Rikyu, favoured what became known as wabi
cha, where great emphasis was placed on the refinement of the tea ceremony
towards simplicity and a positive lack of ostentation. Therefore a garden
expressing a sense of sabi is a
garden lacking in pretention, and a space that exudes a positive connectivity
with what may be interpreted as ‘naturalness’. The roji is in essence elemental, a path that guides the tea
participant towards the tea house. The spirit of the path is derived from the
imagery of a way leading to an isolated rustic mountain dwelling or lodge deep
in the countryside. A tea garden that displayed grandiosity, cleverness, or
ostentation would not imbue the tea participant with the correct desirable
emotional qualities, which would aid him or her to participate in the tea
ceremony in a state of mind conducive to calm equanimity. This observation
illustrates well the fundamental notion that the Japanese garden is intended to
influence the emotional and spiritual state of the observer. It is something
that much attention is paid to in the construction of the garden, from the
choice of materials, to their relative dispositional relationships in space.
All design concerns are geared towards how the garden interacts with the
viewer, of recognizing that the garden and viewer are intimately bound
together. The one complimenting the other, as yin and yang are not
separate entities but aspects of a whole.
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| The apparent simplicity of architecture in the garden hides a complex appreciation of what is simple. |
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| Stone lanterns were introduced into gardens by Tea masters. |
Sabi can
be seen in the use of secondhand materials in the garden, miegakure. That is materials that have acquired the patina of age
and use being especially prized. Rocks with a scattering of lichens or mossy
growths, stepping stones that reveal aspects of long term wear or have been
weathered to soft edges (as opposed to the sharp break lines of freshly
quarried stone), or stone lanterns with perhaps signs of damage that have been
‘healed’ by long term exposure to the elements. Plant material that displays a
sense of maturity, or has an aged quality is also likely to display a sense of sabi. One only need to recall the sense
of walking through a woodland of mature trees, it is not just the height and
mass of the trees that impresses the senses, but the very atmosphere of age, of
time passed, that can hold us in awe. It is noticeable that when creating
traditional gardens in Japan what is sought is at the time of ‘completion’ of
the garden (construction phase), the garden already has a sense or impression
of being aged. Likewise, it is often the case that trees in a Japanese garden
are ‘odd shapes’, leaning one way or another, there may be gaps in the canopy
cover and so on. Contrast this to trees available for garden creation in the
West which are uniformly bolt upright with an even spread of branches forming
the canopy. It is very difficult to purchase suitable trees for Japanese
gardens in the West, there is simply too much regularity to their forms, or one
could say ‘a lack of sabi’.
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| The elegant forms of garden trees revealed by empty space is an expression of sabi. |
The 14th C Japanese poet Kenkō wrote: “In everything no matter
what it may be, uniformity is undesirable. Leaving something incomplete makes
it interesting and gives one the feeling that there is room to grow.”
Irregularity, or a sense of incompletion, gives, as it
were, something for the imagination of the viewer to grip on to. It bestows a
sense of time passed and hence an awareness of time passing, of process,
movement and transformation. In this Beauty, however fleeting it may seem, is
captured and brought into the light to be experienced. Perfect symmetry, or a
flawless form, is a closed entity, one that does not allow for engagement by
the one experiencing it. This is the case for the senses, sight, sound, touch,
taste, as much as it is for the imagination. If there is no space for the
imagination to engage with, the viewer or the experiencer will remain on the ‘outside’
of the experience. A separation occurs which cannot be bridged, subject and
object will remain in opposition, and the essential interdependence of subject
and object will not be recognised.
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| The apparent randomness of a stepping stone path reveals sabi. |
Sabi
can also be noted in seasonality, the passing from one season to the next. Each
season has its own particular qualities, spring with its fresh growth and
quality of re-awakening, summer has the quality of reaching a peak of
development, lushness and plentitude, autumn brings colour into the trees as if
they were making one last exuberant display before falling, winter reveals the
garden retreating into itself, with-drawing back from whence it emerged. With
each turn of season there can be a certain wistful feeling as we are reminded
of the passing of time, and so reminded of our own mortality. Yet, beyond this,
we can recognise that process, a seamless process is active, of which human
beings as much as any other being or material is subject. As much as we notice
the passing of time, we can be aware of a deeper movement, which is ‘beyond
time’ as revealed through non-relativistic conception. This mode of perception
allows us to feel deeper the quality inherent in the Japanese garden where we
become aware of a ‘timelessness’ both outside and within ourselves. Sensitivity
to qualities, such as sabi, allow us
to enter and engage with Japanese gardens more thoroughly, to see beyond form,
and experience something of the unfathomable essence of what is before us.
The
Tsurezuregusa of Kenkō (Essays in
Idleness). Translated by Donald Keene. Columbia University Press. 1967.
