Steamy! Tango With Chasen

How are the art of Argentinian Tango  like Chado?

Yes, both are steam driven!

Both require precision and practice.

Then there are the choreographic steps that must be learned and executed "naturally" (as Matsumoto sensei always reminds me) as if one is born into the culture, and then, over at least one lifetime, they must be refined.

in addition, there are rules of behavior among practitioners, whether at a chaji or a milonga,  on native soil or imported into one's homeland, that govern these intimate but social endeavors.

The fact was not lost on me when looking back on my visit to the ultimate Japanese "Tango", the current head of Tanimura chasen makers of Takayama, the 20th in his lineage to inherit the title.

After more than 30 years of the practice, I finally have witnessed the process of making a chasen by an expert craftsman in his home workshop / studio.  A video may be seen from his website!

As promised by many folks who tried to dissuade me from venturing out to find such as person, the way to the region where 99% of chasen are made requires a train and long taxi ride. So we did just that to tour Tango's "performance".

I had a chance to shake his hand which is that of a man who uses them to work with materials and tools that are not kind to the skin. Sherlock Holmes would be fascinated, maybe befuddled!

In addition to watching his deft handling of relatively few tools (mostly ordinary; one handle covered in a golf club grip wrap), he used a relatively new device that helped him hold the bamboo steady as he slowly and carefully shaved more and more material of the tines.























A copy of his English language hand-out about the process is here:

 The process is pretty straight forward. Skill and more skill. Experience and more experience. Bamboo from the finest groves aged appropriately to meet the standards of the craftsman's clients, the many different schools of tea each of which seeks perfection in its whisking. One whisk per gathering is usual. (See earlier postings about chasen kuyo, the annual gathering of tea practitioners to show appreciation for the hard work in creating the tool of the trade by dedicating a used chasen at a temple.)

1. removing the outer skin of the chosen piece of bamboo

2. making 16 cuts with an ordinary carving knife (like one for chashaku cutting)

3. separating the 16 basic cut sections

4. removing the inner pulp from each tine.

5. snipping each of the 16 at least 4x and then pulling the thinner ones away from the larger with fingers

6. scraping more material from each one of the thinnest tines

7. separating the inner and outer sections and more refining shape

9. once the string has fixed the inner and outer sections, more refining each tine. the black is a rolled piece of stiff paper.

10. myriad versions are available.

11. colored strings can be added to fit the client's request. There have been sports team colors. This for an international chakai for Urasenke Midorikai.

Some additional take-aways:
1. The quality of bamboo is everything. The real smokey colored ones (not dyed!) are more expensive because there is less material available every day. Fewer old buildings are using open flames inside.

2. The curlicues at the end of some commercially crafted chasen do nothing to help make tea or preserve the whisk.
3. Don't count the 100 tines (for usucha), as there may be more or less. Ditto on the others
4. Wider tines, not just fewer, make better koicha.
5. About 10 folks in his studio make about a total of 30 chasen a day on average.
6. 3 wraps of cord = usucha; 4 wraps = koicha whisks.
7. To keep the center tines in shape, twist a few times in each direction and use a form when wet.






 What does it mean to be a 20th generation heir? It means sustaining many long term relationships over time with clients!

Meiji era box was used to deliver whisks to the Imperial court.

It also means that your home and workshop may have been your grandfather's and even beyond that. Thus the Tanimura garden is beautiful and reflective of the care that this family of craftspeople has for tradition.

P.S. Thanks to John Larissou in the Bay Area for making these nifty caps many years ago.                                                          I passed mine on to Tango, who said he'd wear it for golf!

In Praise of Chasen

There is such a distinct beauty in a chasen crafted in Japan compared to those mass produced now in China. I can actually make better tea with the former. The material feels good in the hand. (Yet I must admit that having a chasen readily available in Los Angeles -- thank you Co-opportunity Market, Whole Foods, Asian culture museums and gift shops! -- is a blessing these days.)

I have continued to wonder about the history of chasen making. Several years ago I read in Misiko Hane's "Peasants, Rebels, and Outcastes: The Underside of Modern Japan" (New York. Pantheon. 1982) that chasens were made by folks who were considered burakumin. It brought back an odd experience I had when inquiring about wanting to visit a maker of this most beautiful hand tool when I first visited Midorikai as a guest student. Thinking my enthusiasm to know more about the sources of chadogo would be well met, I felt my query was dismissed for some uncomfortable (for them, not me) reason. "Too far away. Out of town."

I recently inquired of Ted Fowler, a retired professor of Japanese culture who has studied caste systems. He confirmed for me that

 "All of the crafts you mention -- low-paying but requiring a goodly amount of skill -- were often associated with
burakumin in the past.  Many of these artifacts are no longer made domestically, and so the current situation is a bit different. It is important, i believe, to stress
the immense contribution made by non-caste groups to Japanese culture -- culture that we look on today as sanctified by the patina of 'tradition' or 'traditional arts.'"

Nonetheless, I am in awe without hesitation at the legacy of craftsmanship shown in this video about the making of chasen today byTango Tanimura, the 20th generation of the fabled family. Situated like 95% of all chasen makers in Japan in Takayama village in Nara, the family's name is recorded as having been patronized by the Tokugawa Shogun, among other notables. Jun Tanimura has a Facebook page.


Studio KotoKoto in San Diego CA has a great English language account about this family's work. Another good source of information about Takayama village chasen making is here.

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 ...