Her Master's Voice: Review of Genshitsu, Daisosho's "The Enjoyment of Tea"

Sen Soshitsu, XV, Hounsai, the 15^th generation grand master of the Urasenke way of tea, now known as Sen Genshitsu, translates his title in retirement, Daisosho, as "open guard". Having been one of now only two O-iemotos, grand tea masters, to retire during his lifetime, he has enabled his son, then Wakasosho, young master, Zabosai, to accede to the head of household, commercial and cultural empire of Urasenke as Sen Soshitsu XVI. Thus, the elder Sen has taken a carte blanche to be of service to the world-wide world of tea he vastly expanded in ways that he sees fit: an ambassador without portfolio.

In 2004, at the auspicious age of 80 years, he wrote a small book that has been translated into English by Maya L. Perry as The Enjoyment of Tea (2006, Tankosha, Kyoto). This easy to read collection of essays is less hindsight and grandiose wishes for the future, and more a volume of key points that might serve as a companion for teacher training. 

Some of this autobiographical material has appeared in past issues of Chanoyu Quarterly, or the Urasenke Newsletter, both in English through the good offices of Gretchen Mittwer, the primary Kokusaibu translator. One can easily skip over it as it really doesn't add to the body of knowledge about Urasenke life back-stage. Perhaps that will precipitate in 20 years, or perhaps the rest will remain in the shadows.

There also are certainly numerous official (patronized and otherwise patronizing) biographies that have been published abut the man who made efforts to promote peace in a bowl of tea around the world after the defeat of Japan in the Pacific War. One can arguably state that he did the very best that he could. Again, none reveal more than what is desired to be public.

The late UCLA Professor Dr. Herbert Plutschow's The Grand Tea Master (2001, Weatherhill, Trumbull, CT) is a much longer, but similar biography. (Dr. Plutschow established two courses in chanoyu at his institution, but, like other top academicians there, he was never able to leverage an honorary doctorate for Hounsai, and thus, UCLA was never the recipient of one of the numerous donations of tea house teaching facilities that sprang up around the world during Sen Soshitsu XV's reign.)  Other scholars, such as Rand Castile (The Way of Tea, 1971, Weatherhill, New York) have published official biographies of the Sen family in addition to the history of Urasenke Chado, and basic information about dogu, utensils, and the tea “ceremony” experience. This latter book was in fact the text for my UCLA Extension course taught by Dr. Plutschow and is a good, now out of print, overview of what chanoyu. Like all books, it lacks the essence of the experience of doing it by merely projecting what “happens”.

In his most recent book, Genshitsu chose to include key points that specifically relate to important aspects of the sentiment of chanoyu practice, and these would make great outline of topics for teacher training, if not simply discussion among English speaking chajin. I originally thought that this blog post would focus on the need for such formal instructor instruction in English, but that will have to wait for another posting.

Looking over my notes from the book (written as possible topics for this blog), I see that even they lack the soulful experience of holding this little book in hand and reading a short section, as if  Her "Master’s Voice, to paraphrase the slogan of the RCA Victor phonograph company, is being projected.

The most outstanding of my entries is Daisosho’s explanation of shu / ha / ri. Shu being to protect or obey; ha, to break or break through in movement; ri, to leave or separate. Altogether, it is the capacity “to be able to understand or appreciate something only after being separated from it.” I learned it originally as when one puts down a utensil, including a bowl of freshly whisked matcha for the guest to collect and drink, it is as if one is saying goodbye, giving it up. Now I understand that it can also mean how I feel when I take a break from classes.

Daisosho also comments about hinshu gokan, the transposition and ultimate unification of roles of host and guest. This book has the magic of the soul of tea that only a practitioner can understand at the most profound level.

The book also includes a translation by Mittwer and Perry of the classic 100 “poems” by Rikkyu. One might appropriate these latter poems as the important points for teachers as well. 

Reading this book, I can hear the voice of my own teacher, Sosei Matsumoto, who studied and ultimately lived with the Sen family when the war broke out and its duration, because she is an exceptional ambassador of the heart of chanoyu. It has been my experience over the past 28 years as her student that she has been a steadfast ambassador of the letter and spirit of Urasenke. So, while the information is not new, it is clearly what is to be handed down through the legacy of this practice.

"Nipper" listening to His Master's Voice, RCA Victor logo

和 WA: Calming the Western Mind

I recently heard Temple Grandin speak about her work in neuroscience. She is a professor of animal science at Colorado State University and, of course, the most noted and outspoken person born and living on the autism spectrum. At the end of her talk, people were invited to ask questions. Most who did asked specifically about their child who is diagnosed and being supported in their own life with this challenging behavior. Grandin and the parent seemed to use some short cut words related to this "community", including what I heard to be "sess" and believe it is short for "obsess".

It is not unlikely that the rigors of study, practice, etc. found in chanoyu (or perhaps other performative activities that require repetitive skills development handling tools or other objects, maybe even writing numbers or letters) can be attractive to a person who has a tendency to this type of behavior for whatever reason.

On the surface, nothing much happens in the practice of chado, but so much could be lurking behind a simple movement or decision (which scroll to hang, etc.) Likewise, there is an article in the LA. Times about how yoga has been found to be extremely valuable for veterans in the armed service who are suffering from PTSD or severe physical injury and are frequently in great pain.

When there is an attack on the senses, one might just "fight back" or "calm out" by retreating into an activity that is more in the person's arsenal of self-controlled behaviors. Maybe this is why playing scales on a musical instrument can actually become pleasurable, if not simply automatic, without emotional reaction.

Is it by accident that these two activities, which can become the objects of obsession by practitioners themselves, are effective? What is it about the view of life does the "Eastern" perspective that becomes therapeutically effective for the agitated "Western" mind? I believe It is not by chance that the two hemispheres of our globe are seeking to reconcile their lifestyles by engaging in activities of the other.

Hopefully we will not simply change places entirely, but meet in a harmonious middle, wa.

Space: Getting Small. Getting Large.

I have just orchestrated another demonstration of an extremely elementary, highly impressionistic chanoyu situation before a crowd of people who had little to no prior understanding of what it is and who certainly did not come to this unlikely event just to see it. Did I mention that it finally happened at nearly 11pm on a weekday night, last in the program?

If you've tried to do a tea demonstration in a makeshift environment such as a classroom, restaurant / bar / club, school auditorium, (i.e.no tokonoma, no tatami, etc.), you will recognize the challenge to not only to do the presentation (host, guest, narrator) in a way that is visible. Production values aside, one also has to decide what impression through information narrated is most important to relay to the audience exposed to this "experience".

Given the nontraditional environment, I needed to figure out what they might actually see from their position -- seated auditorium style in chairs facing a stage to the side of which a two mat tea "house" had been constructed about 18 inches from the floor. (The "house", all 400 pounds of which was supposed to be lifted on to the stage once the drum set and video screen were moved away. This did not happen, luckily.)

Preparations for the demonstration -- out of my control most of the time -- constantly morphed throughout the evening: the flowers for the tokonoma didn't materialize, the matcha was still unopened 15 minutes before the start, a hotplate was in place under a tiny tetsubin ... Why was this included in the evening, I constantly inquired, but wished to help the event producer fulfill her fantasy. I couldn't help recall the scene in the film Memoirs of a Geisha where the former "Chiyo" does a weird modernist dance at her formal "coming out" performance, emerging as "Sayuri" I mentioned this in my review of the film, "The Way of Tease" for Kyoto Journal.

I determined that the most impressive situation would be to draw the audience's attention into the virtual tearoom space as if one would be a guest. It is pointless to explain every one of the teishu (host's) gestures, because in their role as guest, they are already doing what is necessary: to witness, settle in and wait for tea.

So as narrator I took them on the guest's journey through an imaginary roji, turning this way and that along the stone path, passing through the gates, rinsing at the tsukubai and enter the nijiriguchi. I then simply mentioned that the host is purifying the utensils in the presence of the guest as a way also to draw together their attention and hearts for this gathering.I mentioned other ideas, such as the "Wa, kei, sei and jaku" kakemono (calligraphy) on the scroll displayed in the two "mat" (goza) stage set, which included a tokonoma / tokobashira and shojis designed by East West Teahouse. The demonstration was very abridged inasmuch, too, that the host and guest were new to the practice. I felt the impression was the best under the circumstances.

Likewise, it is a huge challenge to demonstrate in a controlled theatrical space, such as a proscenium stage. I had the opportunity as a very new tea student to witness a kencha (memorial presentation of tea) presided over by then Sen Soshitsu XV, Hounsai, in Los Angeles at the Japan America Theatre. He used the formal daisu (large lacquered stand) and kaigu (set of fresh water jar, fire tongues / water dipper holder, waste water jar and lid rest), of course. I was seated in the balcony, and my eyes were riveted on his every move.

A rather tall man, Hounsai O-Iemoto towered over the daisu, yet he still had to get in there and withdraw the long handled vertically standing bamboo water dipper out of the long-necked holder with little room to spare under the top shelf. He appeared to cause the top of the daisu to expand upward as he reached inside to lift up the hishaku (water dipper). I couldn't believe my eyes.

I commented about it to a tea colleague who admonished me that the goal is to mirror our teacher's process, never to try to imitate the Grand Tea Master who can and would in fact behave more grandiosely.

Practice. 1 to 10. 10 to 1

Practicing Chabako with Matsumoto Sensei (seated)

Semantics aside, there is a fundamental a difference between the study of chado and those who call it a practice. After about the first five years of my practice as a student of Matsumoto Sensei, people asked me if I am still taking classes. The answer was yes then and after 28 years, the answer is still the same.

Did Segovia practice? Did he learn something each time he picked up the guitar?

In my experience with chado, as well as with the guitar, piano, getting out of bed in the morning, going to bed at night it's different every time.

It almost doesn't matter if there is yet another temae (procedure) to learn. From the onset, we learn "ichi go. ichi e." this one experience. this one time.

Matsumoto Sensei reminds us often of one of the maxims of Sen no Rikyu (our tea ancestor from the 16th century):

"Practice constitutes learning from one, becoming cognizant of ten, then returning from ten to one, the beginning."

Here are some of the articles I've written about chado.
The list is growing.
Some have hot links for online reading. 

Kyoto Journal Special issue: "TEA"   Vol. 71 2009
Contributing Editor, Lauren Deutsch

• Tea: A Mirror of Soul, Tan Dun's Opera (review) (print only)

• "Much Ado About Matcha: Appreciating the Tast of Powdered Green Tea" 

• "Tea 'Beyond' Japan: Chanoyu in the Diaspora" 

• Delamu (film) and Tea and Tourism: Tourists, Traditions and Transformations, Lee Joliffe (review)

• “The Books of Tea: Two Leaves and a Bud”: Liquid Jade, Beatrice Hohenegger, and The Book of Tea, Okakura Kazuko  (reviews) 

• Americans Studying the Traditional Japanese Art of the Tea Ceremony: The Internationalizing of a Traditional Art,Barbara Mori (review) (print only)

• The Korean Way of Tea: An Introductory Guide, Brother Anthony of Taizé and Kyeong-Hee Hong (review)

• The Ancient Tea Horse Road, Travels With the Last Himalayan Muleteers, Jeff Fuchs (print only)

• The Tea Ceremony and Women's Empowerment in Modern Japan: Bodies Re-presenting the Past,
Etsuko Kato, and Japanese Tea Culture: Art, History and Practice, Morgan Pitelka  (reviews)  

Parabola “Entering the Way of Tea: 
The “Dewy Path” to the Tea House”  Fall 2009  

L.A. Yoga / Find Bliss  

“Pouring the Heart Into the Bowl: The Japanese Way of Tea Practiced in 21st Century Los Angeles” February 2013

Practice

The study of chanoyu, literally in Japanese, hot water for tea, is a lifetime pursuit. This is why it is called the "Way" of tea, chado.

Do: The Way

It is most likened to studying a musical instrument: we learn how to touch, to tune, to hold, to repair, to listen to the sounds of our instrument. We do scales, etudes, explore the classic repertoire, play in ensemble, informally alone.

In short, we practice.

Likewise, in the study of chado, we learn how to hold utensils, how to build a fire to heat the water (and to select the water), how to handle the tea, how to walk in the tearoom, how to identify and combine utensils in pursuit of a seasonal poetic theme. We learn the history of the practice, about the crafting and provenance of utensils. We explore the tea room's architecture and our movement within it. We also enjoy preparing and eating appropriate meals and sweets that complement the experience. it is all done with full cognizance of the seasonal appropriateness.

It is a way of being with ... tea, each other, what is in the room and what is not. 

We learn to be host and guest equally, so that we can have full appreciation of the totality experience.

We practice over and over. From one to ten and then again, one to ten. 

There's nowhere to go.