I recently had the pleasure of going to Hamarikyuu Park (浜離宮公園) in central Tokyo to attend the Tokyo Grand Tea Ceremony. For me, tea has always been a TV kind of beverage; something to be enjoyed while watching Countdown, Neighbours, or any other suitably naff daytime TV show. The idea that it could somehow be imbued with more etiquette than receiving a knighthood, and more culture than a factory full of macriobiotic yoghurt... well... I was intrigued.The Setting
Firstly, the setting was quite beautiful. It was, nevertheless, a park in the middle of central Tokyo, and so no matter how stunning the scenery was, it was always dominated by the shadows of Tokyo's skyscrapers. I guess having been in Tokyo for a year now, my brain has come to automatically filter out such background concrete noise, so for me Hamarikyuu Park was quite a treat. It only takes a few minutes' walk into the park for the traffic noise to be gradually filtered out by the sound of wind in the trees, and the delicate waves of the many lakes. Over many of the lakes there were beautiful wooden bridges, one of which is made from the wood of trees over 300 years old.
While walking through the park, one can easily stumble across very quaint looking tea-houses. Due to various unfortunate circumstances (mainly earthquakes and air raids) none of them are actually as old as they look, as most were reconstructed in the latter half of the 20th century. But they are still impressive, and a hark back to a more traditional Japan; a refreshing change from the pachinko parlours and game centres that pack the city centre.
Throughout the day, walking gracefully round the lakes were geisha (芸者), shuffling around on their delicate shoes like some sort of exotic bird. They would often stop to have their pictures taken, but also seemed to spend a lot of time doing their typical job, that is to say, talking to very rich-looking Japanese businessmen and laughing a lot at pretty much anything they said. Along with the traditional park clashing with its urban surroundings, the sight of a cultural icon (the geisha) giggling ladylike at a besuited yuppie busy doing deals on his multifunctional cell phone was a very jarring image indeed.The Ceremony
Sitting with my flatmate along with about 30 other foreigners, the intricacies of Japanese Tea ceremony were (rather briskly) explained to us by a somewhat feisty American girl in a Kimono. As was typical of the day, and of life in Tokyo, her loud voice, casual language and "Isn't this AWESOME!" attitude seemed to somewhat clash with the humble, quiet, refined sensei at her side. Still, she did very well at translating the honorific-laden language of the Sadou/tea ceremony (茶道) teacher.
We watched someone playing "the host" making the tea with a variety of beautiful, yet simple, instruments, including a bamboo-brush which she meticulously inspected, before delicately wetting it with warm water. She then used it to mix the green tea in bowls, creating something that more closely resembled green shaving foam than the tea most Westerners would have had in mind. Wetting the brush beforehand prevents any of the bamboo strands from snapping into the tea.The tea was then handed to the "guests" as well as to those in the audience. The bowls, sensei explained, were handed to us with the most important/beautiful part of the bowl facing us. We were then advised to briefly appreciate the bowl, before rotating it clockwise a little, twice, using our right hand. This is to ensure that we didn't drink from the most important part of the bowl, which would have been a great offense.
By this point we had already eaten some sweets typical to the occasion. 茶道 always involves sweets, and these are always made or prepared with the guests in mind. As the majority of us were foreigners and Halloween was approaching, our sweets were fashioned into the shapes of little Halloween pumpkins. They were very oishii!
I'm sure, were one to really try to understand the intricacies of tea ceremony, it would take months, if not years to fully appreciate every little detail, every nuance. But this was just a brief introduction, so the importance of how to hold the bowls being explained, we drank and then the mini-lecture was over. Suitably relaxed and feeling rather cultured, my flatmate and I set off around the park to see what else was happening.
Principles of the Ceremony
In England this might just involve, "One spoon or two?" but in Japan, as was explained to us, there is a deep philosophical basis to tea ceremony.
Undoubtedly the most important concept behind tea ceremony (and Japanese society itself) is wa-kei-sei-jaku, meaning "Harmony, Reverential Respect, Purity, and Tranquility." Harmony is achieved through both hosts and guests learning and knowing as much about tea ceremony as possible, so that they can both play their parts well, producing a harmonious and mutual experience during the ceremony.
Kei/Respect is shown through the host's choice of instruments when making the tea.
Sei/Purity is achieved through the washing of the implements as well as in the separate consumption of the sweet and tea (i.e. a Japanese person will never ask you "One lump or two?"... there are NO lumps!)
Jaku/Tranquility comes from the lack of unnecessarily showy items or actions during the ceremony. It also comes from the appreciation of things being natural, or unaltered.
Finally, another governing principle in tea ceremony, and one which I particularly liked, was the concept of ichi-go ichi-e, meaning that these guests, with these instruments, in this environment will never meet again. Of course they will meet, but it can never be the same as any other time; each moment is fleeting and transient. And so there's a real sense of enjoyment in the ceremony, because the honus is on enjoying this one time as much as you can. Again, allowing this principle to be applied in your life, not just in the tea ceremony, is another Japanese trait that I like, though sadly it is hard to see in action in Tokyo.
綺麗な音楽 - Sweet Music!
Before leaving, we sat down to watch some music. All I can say is that I was blown away by its beauty, which I was in no way prepared for. Again, miles and miles of concrete were lifted from my mind as I listened to each intricate note being played. When the wind instruments began to play, I could almost feel a breeze on my face. Once again I was reminded of the peculiarity of the jarring elements that conspired to bring this event together. The entire day made me feel nostalgic for a time and place I have never seen, and this feeling was made all the more potent by an awareness of where I was and where I would soon be once I left this small, but beautiful park.
Feeling relaxed, happy, and refreshed, my friend and I left the park to face once more the neon throng of Tokyo.
