A History of Japanese Gardens

The Japanese garden tradition is one of the oldest continuous garden traditions in the world. The creation of gardens dates back to the time of the earliest official contacts between Japan and its continental neighbour China in the 7th century. At this time in China landscape gardening was already highly developed and being practised on a very sophisticated and extensive scale. Landscape gardens were created following the Paradise model, that is, gardens were created as an evocation of an idealized state of being. Hence from the very beginning of the tradition gardens were created for purposes that reach beyond the simply ornamental. The concept of gardens containing a spiritual element has been embedded in Japan from the outset.

Nature and a vision of man in relationship with the natural landscape was, and remains, the foundational model for the concept of gardens in the East. The first gardens created in Japan featured a pond with a small island. The original term for a garden was shima, which means ‘island’. Gardens would have primarily had a ritual function, and been a place where rituals were carried out. Part of the original impetus to create gardens was to fashion a space as a suitable abode for the deities on earth; in the anticipation that it would encourage the gods to reside on earth in close proximity to human society. This concept was an extension of Shintoist[1] belief that the deities abide in the landscape, and it was in specific places in the landscape (mountains, spring sources, caves, old trees and rocks, etc) that humans could commune with the deities. Across East Asia landscape was seen and appreciated as a model of spiritual liberation, religious and political authority, and moral purity, particularly when contrasted with the complexity of human life in urban centres.

Kyuseki Teen, Nara

 The Heian period (784 - 1185), which began with the founding of a new capital, Kyoto, heralded a period of a great flowering of the arts and culture in Japan. Cultural pursuits were the preserve of a minority, though critically important section of the society, essentially the aristocracy. Though this could have only happened if there was a wider assimilation of skilled crafts people capable of developing unique skills. In particular, the garden tradition was to rise to prominence during the Heian period, and a distinctly Japanese identity to gardens begins to emerge.

Byodo-in, Uji

One of the characteristics of the period is the emergence of a particularly Japanese style of architecture, shindenzukuri. The shinden, or Main Hall, sat at the centre of the architectural complex, with roofed corridors extending out to the east and west sides, these in turn leading to pavilions. The area immediately to the south of the Main Hall was usually a flat graveled courtyard (which was used on ceremonial occasions, in which two trees considered sacred were planted - a mandarin orange and cherry). It was characteristic of shinden architecture that the interior spaces were capable of being opened almost entirely to allow views of the exterior, hence the garden setting was emphasised by the sparsely furnished and dimly lit interiors.  The richly detailed arrangement of the garden was centred about a large pond, which was also used for boating, as well as strolling, and situated in the pond would have been an island. The garden was created to suggest a variety of different landscape settings; mountain landscapes, seascapes, riverine landscapes, marshes, and so on. A variety of planting material was used specific to the type of landscapes being recreated in the garden. Plants including trees would have been collected in the wild and brought to the capital. The idea was that by touring around the garden the viewer could experience a variety of different landscapes.

It was usual to create sections of gardens that recalled or referred to renown landscapes both in Japan as well as in China. Many of which would have been known of through poetry.  The aristocracy travelled rarely beyond Kyoto itself, so these features in gardens became popular. The practice also indicates how important the imagination of the viewer was in interpreting, understanding and appreciating garden scenery. Poetry was important in the lives of the Heian elite, particularly classical Chinese poetry that was rich in references to nature, it underlines the acute awareness of connectivity with the natural world to the lives of people of the era. Gardens were an extension of this ontology, and in many ways could be said to be the stage on which the lives of people of the time unfolded.

Tenryu-ji, Arashiyama

In the early 11th century a manual of garden creation was complied, the Sakuteiki ('Records of Garden Making') is one of the earliest such books in the world. It covers many subjects in detail, from different styles of gardens, the use of stones and plants, to various taboos associated with gardens and their making. The Sakuteiki drew together the current conceptions of the garden and reveals much of how the role of the garden was considered. The garden was not simply a place for aesthetic pleasure, but a space in which the viewer would interact with the garden on a variety of levels. An important consideration for the author of Sakuteiki was geomancy (風水, Ch. feng shui. Jp. fūsui), a complex range of concepts concerned with the interpretation and divination of patterns of energy believed to be running through the environment. To the Chinese observance of geomancy was a way by which humans could live in close harmony with environmental forces. Geomancy was believed to be relevant to all human activities, from city planning, architecture and the siting of buildings, politics and even to the travel arrangements of people. The garden landscape being seen as a source of well-being was deeply influenced by geomantic considerations. Prime among these was the directional flow of water, where the optimal orientation was for water to flow from east to south and then turn to exit the garden in the west. Where this is done, the Sakuteiki observes, the “master of the household will avoid sickness and tumours, be of sound health, and lead a long and happy life.” [2] 

A section of the text is taken up with taboos, principally associated with the placement of stones in the garden, and it observes that even if one taboo is violated it may cause grievous harm. The Sakuteiki  notes, “”Do not set a stone that is higher than the verandah in the immediate vicinity of the house. If this rule is not obeyed, troubles will follow one after the other, and the master of the household will not live for long. However, temples and shrines are exempt from this rule.”[3] Great emphasis has always been associated with the setting of stones in the garden, and it is regarded as the benchmark of the skill of a garden creator in Japan to this day.

Toji-in, Kyoto

The end of the Heian period was marked by the decline in influence of the aristocracy, and the rise of the military class (samurai) as the predominant social class. The samurai sought to maintain and imitate the garden and architectural styles of the nobility. In the gardens of the 12th through 15th centuries gardens such as Tenryu-ji, Saiho-ji, Toji-in, Ginkaku-ji and Kinkaku-ji were created which retain elements of Heian styles while at the same time strived towards new ideas and means of expression. During this time span a more fully realised Japanese style emerged, one that leaves behind overt Chinese influences to become more firmly rooted in the geographical and aesthetic sensibilities of Japanese culture. The influence of China on Japanese culture in general has been profound over the centuries, and many of the earliest gardens were probably made either by Chinese or Korean craftsmen. Also there were a number of Japanese monks who travelled to China to study, and they would have returned not only with new ideas, religious texts and other artifacts, but would have experienced gardens in the grounds temples too.

Ginkaku-ji, Kyoto

The Muromachi period (1393 to 1568) which followed the Kamakura period (1185-1393) was a time of great upheaval politically in Japan, and yet is also seen as being something of a golden age in cultural terms. Certainly with the creation of gardens such as Kinkaku-ji (1397), Ginkaku-ji (1489), Daisen-in (early 16^th C) and Ryoan-ji (late 16^th C), the art of gardens reaches something of a creative peak. Zen Buddhism was introduced into Japan in the 12^th C by Myōan Eisai has had a profound influence on all aspects of Japanese culture; the popular image of a Japanese garden with its raked gravel is derived from a style of garden developed in Zen temples. The concept of landscape was very important to Zen monks, and hence one’s relationship to the landscape itself. Gardens were a means by which that relationship could be brought into awareness of people living in urban areas, which the majority of monks were doing. Zen practice emphasizes a particular awareness of mind, and in order to do this they followed the Chinese ideal of the recluse, someone who deliberately secludes himself deep in the mountains so as not to be distracted by secular living and society. In creating gardens representing landscapes the Zen monks sought to refine the expression of landscape in a simplified form. Hence we find gardens that are pared to a minimum of materials, rock (mountains) and raked gravel (water). The word for landscape on Japanese is sansui, which is made up of the two characters, san, mountain (山) and sui, water (水). Paring the expression of landscape/garden to its most basic elements draws the viewer and garden into a close embrace, the ‘garden arises’ in the mind of the person contemplating the garden.

Daisen-in, Kyoto

The samurai were attracted to Zen Buddhism for its directness of expression and emphasis on action, and they encouraged the spread and establishment of Zen temples. Here a new type of garden gained popularity, the ‘dry landscape’ or karesansui garden (枯れ山水庭), and some monks achieved great renown for their skill in garden creation. Zen temples are composed of two parts, the south-facing element is the ‘public’ section with the hōjō (main hall) and reception rooms, and the north side of the temple is the ‘private’ section, where monks live and study. On the south side of the hōjō was a courtyard, usually enclosed by a tile-topped wall, the ground level spread with sand or gravel, which was used as a ceremonial space, known as the yuniwa. It was in this space that the karesansui gardens so characteristic of Zen temples were developed and may be seen today. The gardens were not created specifically for the purpose of meditation, rather they were gardens which were intended to reinforce the quality of sacred space associated with the temple.

The 16th century onward saw the emergence of a new style of garden, the Tea garden or Cha niwa. The samurai classes were an avid proponent of tea ceremony, and with their support tea culture was able to permeate deeply into the wider society. Not only were artisans needed to create implements for the drinking of tea (pottery, metalware, bamboo wares etc.) but also to build the simple, yet highly refined tea-houses, and create the gardens. Tea culture was also linked with a reassessment of aesthetics and this was to have an important bearing on the creation of gardens too. Cha no yu (tea ceremony) in the hands of masters such as Murata Shukō (1423-1502), Takeno Jōō (1502 - 1555) and Sen no Rikyū (1521-1591) underwent a profound re-examination and development of particularly Japanese aesthetic values.

Meimei-an, Matsue

Essentially the Tea garden was a path (roji 路地) that led to the teahouse, and became a means by which the participants could prepare themselves for the ceremony. The garden deliberately down plays extravagance, rocks are small (if used at all), and the planting is predominately evergreen. Particular emphasis is placed on the layout of the path itself, as a means of influencing the manner in which the viewer is conveyed through the space. Such features as stepping-stones, stone water basins and lanterns, which are now widely accepted as part of the fabric of a Japanese garden were first used and developed in the context of the Tea garden.

In 1603, Tokugawa Ieyasu rose to take supreme control of Japan. In order to assert and consolidate his authority, he decreed the main administrative capital to be moved away from the strife-torn Kyoto to the small fishing village of Edo, where the Tokugawa family seat was. The feudal lords were required to spend part of the year at Edo where their activities could be monitored. In building their new homes, new gardens were to spring up.

For garden makers the environs of Edo held few advantages compared to the area about Kyoto, with its sheltering mountains and plentiful supply of freshwater. The land near the town (Edo), where the new estates developed was generally flat with little fresh water and few natural stones available for rock arrangements. Despite these drawbacks gardens were constructed.  

One of the earliest and grandest was Korakuen, the construction of which was begun in 1629, on the behalf of Tokugawa Yorifusa, and was further developed and maintained by his son Mitsukuni. Eventually the garden was to cover over sixty acres. A notable feature of Korakuen  was its depiction  of notable scenic views from both Japan and China, parallels may be drawn with Katsura Rikyu in this regard which was constructed around the same period , and features extensive use of the interpretation of famous scenic views.  Though Japan was  closed to the outside world during this period, there was an influx of Chinese, including a number of scholars fleeing the downfall of the Ming government. The particular influence of Chinese and Confucian ideas at Korakuen, has been attributed to Chi Shun-shui , who was patronised by Mitsukuni. Korakuen survives today, albeit on a much reduced scale as a public park, it still retains traces of its former grandeur.

Korakuen, Tokyo

The lack of  supplies of freshwater for gardens in Edo lead to innovative solutions, one source of water that was exploited was the tidal flow of water from the bay. Water was drawn into the gardens at high tide and the held in the garden lakes by elaborate system of  water-gates. One garden where this was practised was at Hama Rikyu  (the Beach Palace), originally created for Matsudaira Tsunashige, a relative of the Tokugawa family. The garden covered some ninety-six acres, the main lake being over six acres in extent, it was created beside the river, with a canal surrounding the remaining three sides. It too survives in part into the modern day as a public park.

One other garden of note from this period, also called Korakuen is to be found in Okayama Prefecture, some four hundred miles south of Edo (Tokyo) . Begun in 1687 by the feudal lord of Okayama, Ikeda Tsunamasa, as a stroll garden, it was further enlarged and developed by his descendants. The garden of is of an open character and featured lakes, stream courses and hills, another interesting feature of the garden was the creation of rice fields and miniature farms as part of the garden scenery. The garden held many pavilions and tea houses, the use of stonework was sparse reflecting the prevailing style of the time. Again, the garden remains to the present day as a public park, though the use of lawn areas is more extensive than in its heyday. 

Of the gardens built on a smaller scale, there is a prevailing interest in the use of the karesansui  style, and also with the use of clipped shrubs as formal elements within the garden composition. Commonly seen today as part of garden design, it was in the Edo period that the use of rounded, and flat-topped plant forms became particularly popular and widely used.

During the Edo period one sees the development of a class of professional landscape gardeners. For an art form that had for centuries occupied the attention of artists, scholars, aesthetes and priests, there came to augment them professional gardeners and nurserymen, keen to supply the demands of  a developing middle class. Garden building was becoming popularised also through the publication of garden manuals, such as Tsukiyama Teizoden. Within a society that was rigidly controlled, and lacked free access to contact with the world outside its shores, inevitably the garden tradition begins to show a concern more with creating gardens to set formulae and patterns.

Shugakuin Rikyu, Kyoto

 The Imperial gardens of Katsura Detached Palace to the west of Kyoto, and Shugakuin Rikyu (to the north east of Kyoto are outstanding examples of gardens of the Edo period. Though relatively large in scale, the gardens incorporated influences from Tea gardens. Katsura was created in the early 17th century is a masterpiece of architecture and garden making and in many ways it has come to encapsulate our contemporary notion of 'Japanese style'. There are many landscape and poetic references woven into the composition of the garden, which in some way gives the garden a feeling of nostalgia. As if the creators of the garden were looking back toward the Heian period with a certain feeling of wistfulness. Not surprisingly as Prince Hachijō Toshihito (1579–1629) who began the development of the site and his son Toshitada (1619- 1662) who was responsible for bringing the architecture and gardens to fruition, would have been aware of the connections of the Katsura area with the Heian period, a time when nobles had villas in the area. Both the Katsura and Shugaku-in gardens are intended to be viewed by walking around them, and the Katsura garden in particular features several buildings that could be used in connection with the tea ceremony.

Katsura Rikyu, Kyoto

In the Edo period (1603- 1867) various pruning techniques became popular. Clipped hedges began to appear in gardens, sometimes making dominant features. Azaleas and other shrubs would be planted en masse and clipped into controlled shapes. The relative proportion of plant forms is important to maintain, as the garden composition is seen as a whole. Hence the importance of pruning skills as part of regular garden maintenance begins to emerge throughout the Edo period. Garden creators such as Kobori Enshu (1579 - 1647) created innovative gardens by this means. Evergreen plantings formed the bulk of plant species used in garden compositions, and the larger daimyo (feudal lord) gardens made use of zonal planting, to emphasis the seasons. Hence areas were planted with plum and cherry trees, and even small paddy fields with rice and medicinal herb gardens could be found.

Daichi-ji, Shiga Prefecture

In the later Edo period, with the rise of a wealthy mercantile class, private gardens began to develop. Many of these were initially of a modest size, as to be a merchant was viewed as a low status in the samurai dominated society. Isui-en in Nara, originally featured two 17^th century gardens attached to two residences, created by Kiosumi Michikyo a wealthy tanner. The two gardens were merged in 1939 by Seki Tojiro, a Nara businessman. Private gardens followed the patterns which were now well established where larger gardens were a blend of stroll gardens with an influence of tea garden elements. In residential houses the garden spaces were often small open spaces within the architectural elements. Most Japanese houses have a relatively narrow frontage, with open spaces retained to allow light and air to circulate in the rooms, an important consideration in densely developed urban areas. In these areas known as tsubo niwa,  坪庭 (tsubo being a unit of measurement, 3.95 sq yd, 3.31 sq. m), a creative variety of gardens were created, often featuring water basins, lanterns and planting.

Isui-en, Nara

 By the late 19^th century the feudal system collapsed after Japan was forced to open its doors to the West. During the Meiji era (1868-1912) many things western became in vogue in Japan, lawns for example began to appear as a designed element of gardens, and more plant species from outside Japan were introduced. Though on the whole the art of gardens retained a conservative attitude towards innovation and change. In 1893 Josiah Conder (1852 –1920), an English architect working in Japan published "Landscape Gardening in Japan", the first book on Japanese gardens published in the West. The book was to prove an important source of information for the creation of gardens in the Japanese style that became widely popular across Europe and the US in the wake of huge interest in all things Japanese.

During the rise of Japan as an industrial superpower many fine gardens were created for wealthy industrialists, such as the Nomura garden in Kyoto. Some survive to the present day, but unfortunately are rarely accessible to the public. Many of these gardens followed on from the stroll garden concept, as garden creators both looked back to traditional values, whilst also introducing new ideas. Ogawa Jihei, Shigemori Mirei, and Nakane Kinsaku were the leading garden creators of the 20th century. It is a remarkable feature of the Japanese culture that there is an apparently seamless continuity of tradition which reveals an innate conservatism in the culture. The garden tradition had established its norms and conventions relatively early and maintained them with great consistency over the years. Young trainee gardeners today still study the Sakuteiki, and Kyoto remains a centre of garden culture in Japan. It also has the greatest concentration of historic gardens, and several temples have been designated as World Heritage sites.

Zuiho-in, Kyoto

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[1] Shinto, the native religion of Japan.

[2] Sakuteiki. Takei and Keane. Tuttle 2001

[3] Sakuteiki, ibid.

Correspondences between Chinese Landscape Painting and Japanese Gardens Part 3

3. Triadic Composition

三角編成  

sankaku nensai

In both Chinese paintings and practically all of the Japanese art forms triadic composition is the fundamental manner in which elements are organised in space. Whilst at first glance paintings and gardens may appear to be organised in a fairly random manner, a more considered view shows that there is a coherent relationship between the principal features. The triangular relationship is founded on scalene triangles, that is, a triangle where all the angles are different. In gardens this is to be found principally in the relationships between stones which form the ‘skeleton’ of the garden layout. Following the practice of setting stones, a dominant or master stone is set, and then subsequent stones are set according to triadic composition.  In gardens stone arrangements are generally grouped together by the numbers 3, 5, or 7, the numbers are themselves regarded as being auspicious in their own right. Uneven numbers are seen as being favourable for many reasons, particularly as they naturally lead toward an asymmetrical organisation (see previous blog post on Asymmetry). Not only are individual groups of stones organised in triadic arrangements, but groups of stones are also relationally organised in this way too. Often the planting which will accompany stone arrangements also follows a similar pattern of organisation.

Triadic composition. Zuiho-in, Kyoto

In triadic composition there are three distinct lines of force, in the vertical, horizontal and diagonal planes. A strong vertical emphasis is characteristic of both Chinese landscape painting as well as Japanese gardens. In Japan the vertical line is sometimes referred to as ‘Heaven’, the horizontal as ‘Earth’, and the diagonal as ‘Man”, or ten-chi-jin (天地人, this symbolic classification is a foundational concept in ikebana or flower arrangement.). Each line of force carries its own particular energy or emotional weight. The vertical is aspirational, uplifting and creates a sense of spatial depth in the composition. The horizontal plane grounds the composition, playing against the energetic thrust of upward movement creating a sense of stability, even languor or calmness. The diagonal line is a linking device that draws the two opposing planes into a dynamic harmony without affecting their respective energetic flow. The diagonal line facilitates balance by offsetting any feeling of opposition between the vertical and horizontal. The three forces work together, distinct yet interdependent on one another.

 

Tenshō Shūbun. Reading in a Bamboo Grove (ca. 1446) .

In a painting the three forces help to define spatial depth on what is a two-dimensional surface creating the illusion of depth as well as providing connectivity between the carious elements, In a garden the triadic arrangement creates a profound harmony in which the viewer can become an aspect of the composition itself. Gardens being three-dimensional works allow an easier facilitation for the viewer to become a part of the composition, as depth is measurable and not simply a notional/intellectual construct. This comes clearer when one has the opportunity to experience landscape scenery in Japan or China. Much of Japanese landscape is composed of steep sided hills or mountains, sometimes rising directly from flat plains or broad valley bottoms. Likewise areas such as the Huangshan mountains or the landscapes of Guangxi province in China which were so inspirational to painters have landscapes that exhibit strong visual associations with the three forces discussed above. What both the painters of China and the garden creators of Japan were attempting to achieve was to represent what they felt was the essence of landscape, by recreating that essence they could draw the viewer into a deeper, more intimate, relationship with the emotional and spiritual qualities of landscape itself. It is a way of reaffirming our place in the universe, being born of landscape as part of landscape. Both the paintings and gardens remind us we are interdependent with landscape, not its master.

Landscape scenery, Miyagi Prefecture, japan

Huangshan Mts. Anhui province China

"If there are a thousand cliffs and myriad valleys, they must be low and high, clustered and scattered, and not identical. Multiple ranges and layered peaks must rise and fall, lofty and high, and yet each different.

If not confused in one way or another, you may spontaneously play whist lost in absorption."

Attributed to Li Cheng (d.967)[1]

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[1] ‘Early Chinese Texts on Painting’. Susan Bush and Hsio-yen Shih. Hongkong University Press. 2012

Stone Setting in the Japanese Garden

Stoneyard, Kyoto

One of the characteristics of the Japanese garden is the use of stone as a major component of landscapes created in a garden context. Since the very earliest dates of creating gardens in Japan (8^th century), stones and their placement has been an important element. Given that the original inspiration for creating gardens came into Japan from China it is not great surprise, as stones have always held a dominant position in the Chinese garden culture. In both China and Japan gardens are recreations of landscape, or at least the attempt to create something of the perceived ‘essence’ of landscape. The term for landscape in Chinese is  shansui, 山水 (sansui in Japanese); this is composed of two characters, the first reading ‘mountain’, and the second ‘water’. Thus the essence of landscape is encapsulated by the concept of ‘mountains and water’. It is interesting to note in passing that the dominant element in the composition of Chinese landscape paintings are also mountains and mountain scenery. From a cursory glance it can easily be appreciated that the two principal components of a Japanese garden are indeed mountains (as represented by stones) and water (either real or symbolic).

 

Stone setting with a crane in England

Even today in the field of creating traditional gardens in Japan the setting of stones, ishigumi, 石組, is regarded as a measure of the ultimate skill of a garden creator. Stones are accorded an almost reverential quality in the garden, and a great deal of care is taken in the selection and placement of stones. They are regarded as forming the essential skeleton of the garden, providing the garden layout with a fixed and subtle framework that will define the overall structure of the garden. Planting, that element of a garden so revered by Western garden makers, tends to be seen as adding flesh to the bones of a garden. In the East planting is complimentary to stone settings but ultimately subservient to the importance of stone arrangement. Perhaps this occurs because stones are perceived as adding a sense of permanence to a garden, whereas plants can be subject to an observable process of change and growth in the short term.

The types of stone used in Japanese gardens vary considerably in geological and mineral makeup. The choice of stones depends on availability and the intuitive sensibility of the garden creator. Stones with a provenience that may come from the status of previous owners are sought after and are considered highly desirable, also stones displaying eccentric forms are sometimes be used and can also be highly regarded.

Broadly, stones used in Japanese gardens can be classified into five basic types: 

1. Tall vertical; this is a stone taller than it is broad. It will stand upright, and very often be the focal point of a group. Can stand 0.9m (3’) or more from the ground.

2. Low vertical; much the same as above in essence, but a shorter piece. Generally below 0.9m (3’) in height.

3. Inclining; this refers to stones that have a pronounced diagonal form. They may incline left to right or right to left. Inclining stones are often used as support pieces in triadic groups.

4. Reclining; this refers to stone that seem to arch from the ground in a more or less symmetrical manner, that is without a pronounced inclination to the left or right side.

5. Horizontal: this refers to stones that sit low and flat to the ground, with a top that has a defined horizontal plane. Stepping-stones are an example of these stones.

In assessing and choosing stones the garden creator needs to establish the inherent form of a stone, and in doing so gains an idea of how each stone is to be set. Every stone will have its own way to be arranged, this is determined by identifying the ‘head’ or top of the stone, the ‘face’ or aspect of the stone deemed to have most aesthetic appeal, and the ‘root’ or that portion of the stone to be set into the ground. In the Sakuteiki[1] clear advice is given into stone setting: “When setting stones, first bring a number of different stones, both large and small, to the garden site and temporarily set them out on the ground…. Compare the various qualities of the stones and, keeping the overall garden plan in mind, pull the stones into place one by one.”        

 

Tall upright stone being set

Stones have a dynamic visual energy within them. That is they are not regarded as being simply inert bodies occupying space. The overall shape of the stone, their texture and markings all give a sense of the energy that they are able to express. The stone illustrated below is a tall upright piece, looked at carefully it can be noted that particularly in the lower third of its bulk the graining of the stone has a sense of diagonal movement from right to left rising to the top left shoulder. Also looking at the overall bulk of the stone there is a subtle shift of weight that runs first diagonally from left to right, then shifts to run right to left to the top or head of the stone. These two ‘movements’ within the stone are complimentary and give a rising feeling to the stone. The stone in question stands about 1.5 m (5 feet) from ground level and this bulk combined with its encapsulated sense of movement gives the stone a feeling of power and presence.

In the second stone illustrated, the overall shape of the stone is dominated by the rising shoulder running from right to left. In this stone the grain runs almost vertically from the ground upwards with light and darker minerals creating interesting vertical bands. Here the sharp contrast in the angle of the inclined shoulder and the vertical bands again compliment one another giving an added strength to the stone’s visual appearance. This stone would not necessarily make a dominant stone in an arrangement, but would set well as a supporting stone, set to the right hand side of a tall upright, so that the inclined shoulder points towards the top of an upright stone.

Inclining stone

In a garden at Nanzen-ji temple, Kyoto can be found two fine examples of the use of reclining stones. The second stone (from the left) that is set low to the ground plane provides a visual link between the two larger stones set closer to the wall, it also has the function of emphasizing the bulk and height of the stones to the rear, as well as creating a sense of depth in the relationship between the three stones. Further to the right another reclining stone is also placed to the fore of the arrangement, which also functions in much the same way. A reclining stone does not draw particular attention to itself, but serves in a subordinate role, one that can be vital to an arrangement nevertheless.

The use of reclining stones at Nanzen-ji temple, Kyoto

In creating a group of stones it is usual to first set in place a stone that acts as a dominant stone in an arrangement. This will often be a tall upright stone set in the background of the overall plan, each subsequent stone set will then refer visually back to the dominant stone. In this way the entire arrangement is tied together into a logical and harmonious entirety. Stones are rarely set in isolation, but most commonly arranged in triadic compositions. This is true of both individual stones creating a group, as well as groups of stones set across the entire scheme. In both cases it is important that individual stones and groups relate to one another in a harmonious manner. In Japan this spatial arrangement is commonly found in all the visual arts (such as painting and flower arrangement) and is known as ōshakei. The three elements of ōshakei are referred to as Heaven, Man and Earth; Heaven being the vertical dimension, Man the diagonal, and Earth the horizontal. Heaven expresses a quality of aspiration, Man the quality of dynamism and Earth the quality of stability. Vertical and horizontal forces are ‘fixed’ in the sense that they require the completion of the triad’s third element to provide a sense of implied dynamic movement. Where only two of the three elements are present then the fundamental opposition of the forces involved acts to cancel each other out, and the result can be a state of stasis or lack of movement. Most stone groups are composed with an uneven number of elements, the numbers three, five and seven being the most common. The reason for this is that even numbers are considered to be static, whereas uneven numbers are seen to hold a greater potential for dynamic energy or have a potential to imply change.

Triadic arrangement. Zuiho-in, Kyoto

A powerful expression of the triadic arrangement can be found at Zuiho-in temple (part of the Daitoku-ji complex, Kyoto) created in 1961 by Mirei Shigemori. The stone arrangement of the south garden also well illustrates the Japanese aesthetic preference for asymmetrical composition. The centre of the arrangement is located to the extreme right hand side, where a powerful group of five stones are located; at the rear of which a tall upright stands supported by two further upright stones descending in height and rising to sharp peaks. The stones are set close and the angles of the flanks of the stones blend seamlessly into one another providing a visual continuity that rising through the triad to the top (and beyond) of the dominant stone. To further enhance the grouping Shigemori set two further stones in close attendance; to the right is a lower inclining stone which features a peak that reflects the Dominant stone, its right hand side flank falling in line with a diagonal line that again continues to the peak of the Dominant stone. To provide a sense of stability to the group on the left side is a lower reclining stone set to lean into the main group, again the outline of this the fifth stone in the group perfectly aligns with the diagonal line running up from left to right that cuts across the verticality of the Dominant stone. The result is a powerful and dynamic arrangement that seems to rear out of the earth, yet it carries a sense of great stability and of being deeply rooted in the earth from which it springs. Shigemori adds depth to this section of the garden by placing another group, this time of three stones, at a lower level in the raked gravel. The Dominant stone of this triad has an angled top that moves the line of connectivity towards the upper five grouping, its sheer flat face very strongly vertical. This is tempered by a low, squat, upright with a slightly rounded top that nestles at the base on the left side anchoring the vertical movement. The whole group is then further anchored by the presence of a very low upright with a flatten top set to the right side. Setting this subordinate stone a little apart from the Dominant opens up a gap between what are otherwise closely set stones that in fact overlap one another. The flatten top of the stone combined with the spatial separation gives the sense of a spiralling movement that rises from this the smallest of the stones right through the entire group, allowing a smooth transition from the very lowest to the very highest.

 

The full arrangement, Zuiho-in, Kyoto

Shigemori further emphasises triadic element of the entire garden by extending the composition out along the left diagonal plane where it finishes and is held by a low upright stone set by itself in the heavily raked gravel. Between the main axis of the arrangement and this final stone he places several other stones to further reflect the dynamic movements and rhythms. Given that the garden is in a relatively confined space it carries a wonderful sense of flow, which manages complexity and simplicity, movement and harmony. Seen from the verandah the entire garden arrangement is further enhanced by the strong lines imparted by the boundary wall and clipped hedges. Here, these horizontal lines give the space a passive backcloth which throws the stone arrangements into greater relief, whilst at the same time providing a steady, soothing undercurrent to contain the movements. Shigemori’s garden creation manages to be both contemporary whilst also being respectful to traditions of artistic composition that have deep, ancient, roots in Eastern aesthetics.

Stone groups, Ryoan-ji, Kyoto

Whilst in a garden such as at Zuiho-in Shigeimori employs tight alignments between the forms of the stones to create triadic relationships, in a garden such as Ryoan-ji (created perhaps in the late 15^th century), the relationships are more subtlety executed and less obviously defined. Here there is a greater emphasis on the overall disposition of one to another of the five groups of placements that make up the composition. The open spaces between the stone groups clearly have a greater role than simply providing a sense of differentiation and definition. Whilst appearing to be casual enough, the disposition of the stones within their respective groupings, and also between the groups themselves, is clearly the result of a great deal of sensitive aesthetic consideration. The stones themselves have little inherent drama in themselves, yet the overall effect is perhaps even more compelling and persuasive. A sense of mystery, of intrigue, stalks the garden like no other. Perhaps this is what draws the thousands of visitors to the garden. Stones used in such a way in a garden setting seem to act as centres of energy. Emanating from the stones seems to be some mystic energy that is contained within them; perhaps stones continue to radiate in some subtle manner the traces of the forces by which rock was created in the first place. Given that they are forces of energy of such a level of immensity that, ultimately, defy definition or comprehension.

That stones may contain powers or energetic forces was clearly recognised in Sakuteiki, where an important section of the text is taken up with detailing a variety of taboos concerning stone placements and selection. In particular the text warns of the misplacement of stones, or the inappropriate placement of stones, and the dire results that can result from violating taboos.

“Using a stone that once stood upright in a reclining manner or using a reclining stone as a standing stone. If this is done, that stone will definitely become a Phantom stone (reiseki, or spirit stone) and be cursed.”

“Do not set a stone that it falls directly in line with the columns of the building. Violate this taboo and even one’s descendants will suffer, evil occurrences will abound, and all one’s one’s wealth will be lost.”

“Hirotaka[2] has said the setting of stones should not be done thoughtlessly. There are many taboos with regard to the setting of stones. Violate just one of them, it is said, and something terrible will befall the master of the house, and his household too, will not continue for long.”[3]

Such expressions reveal much of the attitude and perception people of that era had towards garden elements, one which we may consider today as being ecocentric, rather than anthropocentric. Stones, and plants, in a garden were recognised as having a energetic force or ki in Japanese (気). Shinto, the native religion of Japan, acknowledged all things, animate as well as inanimate, as having a life force that needed to be respected. Thus to perceive stones as being capable of influencing human affairs would have been quite natural, ultimately all of Nature was to be revered as a divine expression. Rather than being superseded by the establishment of Buddhism, this ancient geomantic view was overlain by an expansion of expression. Hence by the Middle Ages in Japan the practice of naming of garden stones became a common practice. Naming is a way of both animating a quality, but also projecting qualities on to an object.The names for stones were derived from Buddhist, Taoist, Shinto and Confucian sources, as well as stones being named for their function and for scenic effects they purported to hold.

Sansonseki arrangement. Komyo-ji. Kyoto

Therefore we have a three stone arrangement known as Sansonseki (‘Three Deities stones’), which evokes the presence of the Buddhist trinity (the interpretation of which deities varies widely, but may include Dainichi Nyorai 大日如来, Amida Butsu 阿弥陀仏 and Kannon 観音). The Sakuteiki  notes: “ If a Buddhist Trinity (sansonseki) is placed in the southwest, there will be no curse, neither will malevolent spirits be able to enter.” One may speculate from this that the purpose of sansonseki  in the garden was to provide a protection to the household. Another Buddhist deity that frequently is associated with gardens is Fudō Myōō 不動明王, this protective figure is associated with waterfalls possibly through his adoption by the mountain priests of the shugendō sect of esoteric Buddhism whose rigorous training in mountains such as Mt Heiei, include purification by standing under waterfalls. A large flat-topped rock is often referred to as a zazenseki, or a meditation stone, as it may well have been placed for precisely that purpose and can be found in several gardens, such as at Saihō-ji, the ‘Moss temple’ near Kyoto.

Zazenseki is to the right side, Saiho-ji, Kyoto

'Rock of the Spirit Kings' (shinnōseki), 'Never Aging Rock' (furōseki), 'Rock of Ten Thousand Eons' (mangōseki), 'Bufo Rock' (gamaishi), all these are names derived from Taoist iconography and have associations with the notion of paradisial islands.

''Master Rock (shugyōseki), 'Attendant Rock' (shinseki), 'Yin/Yang Stones (inyōseki), 'Status Rock' (kanseki); all these names have Confucian significance, where social status and order is a prime concern.

Shinto references are more vague to deduce but given the animistic content of Shinto iconography stones that refer to animals probably have some significance, such as 'Duck’s Abode stone' (kamoi ishi), and 'Flying Birds rocks' (toritobi ishi)[4]. Stones found in natural settings known as iwakura have definite associations with Shinto. These are regarded as being places where deities either abide or places at which they may have some communication with humans. Usually iwakura are very large stones and are delineated by a harness of rice straw rope draped around them. Very occasionally such stones are found in the precincts of shrines and temples, through garden use is not at all common.

Amid examples of names for functional stones are:

Takisoe ishi (滝添石) 'Cascade supporting stones'; these are tall stones placed either side of the Cascade stone over which water flows

Teishuseki (亭主)石 'Host’s stone'; this would be a broad flat stone placed so to give a prime view over the garden.

Teshoku ishi (手燭)石 'Lamp stone'; a flat topped low stone places to the left of a water basin for evening or night tea ceremonies.

Yutō seki(湯桶石) 'Warm water basin stone', a low flat topped stone set to the right side of a water basin, it holds a basin of warm water for winter or cold season tea ceremony.

Sekimori ishi (関守石) 'Barrier stone'; a convention of the Tea garden, a fist sized stone wraped with sisal which may be placed on a stepping stone, it indicates that particular path is closed and guides a visitor along an alternative path.

Kutsunugi ishi (沓脱石) 'Shoe leaving stone'; a long low flat topped stone at the entry point to a building where outdoor shoes are left before entering.

 

Sekimori ishi. 

Scenic stones are stones that are intended to evoke landscape imagery in the imagination of the viewer. The names describe well their symbolic role and use:

Namiuke ishi 浪受石 'Wave dividing stone'; a stone placed in a stream that is intended to split the flow, often creating a small pool of sound.

Sancho seki 山頂石 'Summit stone': a stone set on a earth mound or hill in the garden.

Sawatobi ishi 沢飛石 'Water crossing stones'; stepping stones set across a stream or shallow pond.

Shumisen ishi須弥山石 'Mt. Shumisen stone'; a tall upright stone that evokes the mystic Buddhist mountain, also is generally read as a paradisial symbol.

Funatsuki ishi 船着石 'Boat Landing stone'; flat stones set into the bank of a pond from which one steps onto dry land after disembarking. Boating was a popular activity in the larger stroll gardens. Such stones are sometimes used in gardens where the pond is too small to use for boating, but their presence still would evoke the idea of boating.

Dōjiseki 童子石 'Children stones'; usually a scattering of small stones offset from a prominent stone, the effect is of a scattering of children running about. The pattern of the layout of such stones would be carefree and intentionally unstructured.

It should not be taken from the above notes on names that a garden is required to be composed of named stones, there are many gardens whose stone placements have not been designated any ‘meaning’. Gardens where the stones are arranged purely for visual and/or spatial purposes. Undoubtedly in the Edo period in Japan (1603-1867), the use of named stones in gardens became very popular, almost formulaic. The intention of this was generally to evoke associations in the mind of the viewer thereby increasing the level of engagement that the viewer could have with the garden. In garden manuals complied about that period and earlier stones are certainly designated names, but there was no standard for this, knowledge of garden making techniques was subject to guild like limitations. One had to be an initiate into the practice to know of certain things, and teaching related to garden making was passed from generation to generation orally, much as it still is into the 21^st century.

Dry landscape garden, karesansui niwa, Shokoku-ji, Kyoto

A successful stone arrangement is one that recognizes that the primary material that the garden creator works with is not simply the outward form of the stone but its inner energetic patterns. A stone today has come to appear a certain way through the unique configuration of the forces of its creation as stone, weathering, patina and also its history. This process has taken millions of years to achieve, it is easy to overlook and take this for granted, but it is something that is important the stone arranger or garden creator needs to bear in mind. Perception and a profound sensitivity to the materials with which one works, is a vital element in the creation of any artwork. Blending a group of stones together into a coherent whole, whilst allowing space and time for the imagination of the viewer to be part of that process of recognition and comprehension, is something that is absorbed as part of the training of a Japanese garden creator. This principal extends right through the garden, through the use of planting, the relationship between buildings and the garden and by the use of land-shaping and the relationship between the garden and its external environment too. Thus the practice of setting stones becomes an art form in itself, employing aesthetic concerns, as much as techniques concerned with rhythm, space, pattern and any symbolic content that may be projected through the work. The garden is not a formulaic construction and it draws deeply on the sensitivity of its creator in order to work well, that is, for the garden to reach and communicate with the viewer the garden creator has to find the very qualities he or she wishes to project outwardly with themselves. The movement outwards is also a movement inwards.

 

Kaiuso Sanso, Kyoto

Above all, in practice the selection, use and setting of stones becomes an intuitive practice in experienced garden creators. The Sakuteiki is clear that the stone setter should ‘follow the requesting mood of the stone’, and this is probably the most important element of the use of stones in the Japanese garden. It is not so much the ego of the garden creator that is of principal importance, but rather there is a process of sublimation of the creator’s ego to recognise the primacy of the materials themselves. The garden creator trains his or her eye and heart to see the materials as they are, and to be able to use them as such. Interpreting the requirements of site, client and materials is the key to successful garden making. Nowhere is this more apparent and important in the setting of stones that has been noted above is one of the key practices in the creation of Japanese gardens. It has always been so, and no doubt will continue to be so.

[1]  ‘Records of Garden Making’ compiled in Japan in the 11^th century, perhaps the oldest garden manual in existence, and still referred to by contemporary garden makers. See translation by Takei and Keane. Published by Tuttle, 2001.

[2] Kose no Hirotaka, an artist and garden designer, late 10th/early 11^th C Japan.

[3] All quotations from Sakuteiki, see footnote above.

[4] The references to named stones above are derived from the 15^th C garden text Senzui narabi ni yagyō no zu, 山水並野形図, (‘Illustrations for Designing Mountain, Water and Hillside Field Landscapes’) compiled by Zōen ( a translation of which has been published as 'Secret Teachings in the Art of Japanese Gardens', by David Slawson, published by Kodansha, 1987)

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