The Art Of Tea. The Art of Film.

DVD Available from Inspirita.org

Years ago, I learned that the measure of true Art of anything -- from dance to ritual, from cooking to writing -- is whether there has been a transformative experience on the part of creator and (if any) "audience". One might even say that when there is a merging of the witnesses (including the artist as participant observer) with that which is created, then Creativity is underway. 

Is it possible to have that experience by witnessing the creative process virtually, i.e. once removed by the mediating veil of recording or once-again-telling? Of course! The "entertainment" industry is built upon this "reality".

Thus, I am applauding (with a silent bow) the recent film Sen Shin An: The Other World of Tea for leaving me not only refreshed as if I just had a bowl of tea, but also for moving me so far as to leave the comfort of the viewer's chair and set out my dogu to enact a temae to create that bowl of tea.

Mitigating the suspension of tealeaf particles in hot water within a set time period is the mark of a successful temae. Likewise, an artfully made film distributes the ideas and images of its essence throughout the period of time during which you engage the audience. Sen Shin An does this very well.

Produced by Inspirita in 2011 in a gorgeous Kyoto autumn, its sections run from the didactic principles, such as wa, kei, sei, jaku, into a chaji hosted by Bruce Hamana, sensei. Bruce has been employed by the Kokusaibu (foreign division) of the Urasenke Foundation for several decades and is usually seen surrounded by Midorikai (foreign school) students at a formal outing or at his busy desk. I admit that I didn't recognize him as the kimono-clad teishu of the scenes of the chaji, being prompted only at the end in the credits. Seeing him at peace (even filmed!) pouring water is lovely.

People new to chanoyu always ask me if there is a special occasion during which tea is presented formally in Japan. Of course, the answer is "ichi go ichi e", i.e. Only THIS Moment ... every day is a good day!

The film’s artistry is that it sets up the final, seemingly austere, segment in the tearoom by inviting the viewer to witness the every day busy-ness of Japan in the same mind-set. The mise-en-scene removes the expectation that something very complex -- dare I say, important, mysterious, etc.? --  is happening, something that many other films do in an attempt to echo the power of chanoyu in Japanese cultural history.

In fact, nothing more than just simply making tea is occurring. The complexity, if well inculcated on the part of the host, is nowhere to be “seen” by the guest. 

The value of this short (67:39) film is that it captures the spirit of tea and shares it “just” so. Whatever history or cultural nuance are behind the experience, it has been whisked into a lovely frothy (Urasenke style!) bowl of usucha.

Stewart Wills, the film’s director, notes, “Although there may be various technical points of interest to followers of Tea, the film did not set out to be an instruction manual. Rather it strove to convey the inner spirit of Tea.” I wonder why the point was made about “instruction manual”.

When I began my chado study, I was admonished not to take any video of the okeiko, the class. One learns by observing, a fellow student pointed out. For one not able to understand Japanese, and thus (still) having little reference support than the now defunct Chanoyu Journal, I settled into the reality that I needed to improve my observation skills and to be careful not to practice only what my memory allowed, which was often incorrect. Later, Urasenke produced an expensive set of videos (still not in English) of the basic procedures and others that augment the famed “green books” (Japanese only) that showed step-by-step how-tos for the temaes. So, I can see why students may lament the lack of such a didactic film. (Urasenke’s Tankosha Publishing arm now produces a few more English-language books of the basics of the practice.)

On the other-hand, today YouTube and so many other sources of moving media are full of “Japanese tea ceremony” pieces. With the significantly more widespread availability of matcha (although, aside from specific well-crafted brands, usually not very good) and a mail-order chasen (the whisk), anyone can make a bowl of tea with a few trials.

Enough writing ... I must not keep the hot water waiting ...

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