The Book of Tea and Perriand (Part 3)

As a young man, teamaster Rikiu studied tea under Kitmuki Dochin, then Takeno Joo, then went under zen training at the Daitoku-ji temple in Kyoto. At the age of 57, he served lead Nobunga, then the feudal lord Hideyoshi. For 50 years, Rikiu devoted his life to making tea. Much of the present aspects of tea ceremony like rustic simplicity, directness of approach, and the architecture were pioneered by Rikiu. In his later years, he not only designed the architecture of famous tiny tea rooms like the Tai-an two tatami mat room in Myoki-an temple in Yamazaki, but he also developed the furnishings of the interior experience - the flower containers, tea scoops, bamboo lid rests, and raku tea bowls. The Japanese teahouse served as an inspiration to perriand, who devoted her life to the ebb and flow between interior and exterior, and believed that furnishings and architecture needed to be developed as a single entity.

Another concept Rikiu popularized was integrating wabi sabi philosophy in the tea ceremony. In contrast to the expensive gaudy Chinese tea equipment available at the time wabi-sabi celebrates earthiness, chance, unpretentiousness and intimacy of scale. Wabi sabi isn’t about perfection, slickness, mass production, monumentality, symmetry, or trendiness, wabi-sabi is the reality of change and impermanence: “things are either devolving toward, or evolving from, nothingness.” The values underlying it include the following: “Truth comes from the observation of nature. Greatness exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked details. Beauty can be coaxed out of ugliness.” Beauty is to be found in rustic simplicity, imperfection and change, and even in the processes of withering and decay.

Although Rikiu was one of Hideyoshi’s closest confidants, Hideyoshi ordered Rikiu to commit ritual suicide. Rikiu was an outspoken man, and often dared to differ in argument with his patron. His enemies accused him of a conspiracy to poison the lord. “It was whispered to Hideyoshi that the fatal potion was to be administered to him with a cup of the green beverage prepared by the tea-master. With Hideyoshi, suspicion was sufficient ground for instant execution, and there was no appeal from the will of the angry ruler. One privilege alone was granted to the condemned—the honor of dying by his own hand.”

Rikiu’s last act of his life was to hold an exquisite tea ceremony. After serving all his guests before he drank his last cup, he presented each of his guests a piece of his tea ceremony equipment and the kakemono, (the hanging scroll with beautiful writing dealing with the evanescence of all earthly things).

"The bowl alone he keeps. "Never again shall this cup, polluted by the lips of misfortune, be used by man." He speaks, and breaks the vessel into fragments. The ceremony is over; the guests with difficulty restraining their tears, take their last farewell and leave the room. One only, the nearest and dearest, is requested to remain and witness his death. Rikiu then removes his tea-gown and carefully folds it upon the mat, thereby disclosing the immaculate white death robe which it had hitherto concealed. Tenderly he gazes on the shining blade of the fatal dagger, and in exquisite verse thus addresses it with a poem he wrote:

"Welcome to thee,
O sword of eternity!
Through Buddha
And through
Dharuma alike
Thou hast cleft thy way."

With a smile upon his face Rikiu passed forth into the unknown.”

Kakuzo goes into great detail about the architecture of the Rikiu teahouse: “It is an Abode of Fancy inasmuch as it is an ephemeral structure built to house a poetic impulse. It is an Abode of Vacancy inasmuch as it is devoid of ornamentation except for what may be placed in it to satisfy some aesthetic need of the moment. It is an Abode of the Unsymmetrical inasmuch as it is consecrated to the worship of the Imperfect, purposely leaving some thing unfinished for the play of the imagination to complete. The ideals of Teaism have since the sixteenth century influenced our architecture to such degree that the ordinary Japanese interior of the present day, on account of the extreme simplicity and chasteness of its scheme of decoration, appears to foreigners almost barren."

The typical tea room accommodates not more than 5 people in a 4.5 tatami space. The anteroom is where utensils are washed, a portico provides a space where guests wait to enter, and ‘roji’ or garden path connects the portico to the tearoom. “The roji was intended to break connection with the outside world, and produce a fresh sensation conducive to the full enjoyment of aestheticism in the tea-room itself. One who has trodden this garden path cannot fail to remember how his spirit, as he walked in the twilight of evergreens over the regular irregularities of the stepping stones, beneath which lay dried pine needles, and passed beside the moss-covered granite lanterns, became uplifted above ordinary thoughts. One may be in the midst of a city, and yet feel as if he were in the forest far away from the dust and din of civilisation. Great was the ingenuity displayed by the tea-masters in producing these effects of serenity and purity. The nature of the sensations to be aroused in passing through the roji differed with different tea-masters. Some, like Rikiu, aimed at utter loneliness, and claimed the secret of making a roji was contained in the ancient ditty:

"I look beyond;
Flowers are not,
Nor tinted leaves.
On the sea beach
A solitary cottage stands
In the waning light
Of an autumn eve."

“The tea-room is unimpressive in appearance. It is smaller than the smallest of Japanese houses, while the materials used in its construction are intended to give the suggestion of refined poverty. Yet we must remember that all this is the result of profound artistic forethought, and that the details have been worked out with care perhaps even greater than that expended on the building of the richest palaces and temples. A good tea-room is more costly than an ordinary mansion, for the selection of its materials, as well as its workmanship, requires immense care and precision. Indeed, the carpenters employed by the tea-masters form a distinct and highly honoured class among artisans, their work being no less delicate than that of the makers of lacquer cabinets.”

During her travels in Japan, whenever perriand presented, she made sure to emphasize the thing she considered indispensable: innovation. “My aim was to give a sense of creation back to these artisans who were so focused on their traditions or trapped in reproducing inanimate objects copied from publications… I encouraged all of them to create new objects”.

In her own teahouse design, perriand designed every piece of furniture including the altar to the gods and ancestors, and place where utensils are stored. Following her own advice, she didn’t blindly follow longstanding japanese traditions. Her most conspicuous innovation was to set the tearoom tatamis outside under a tent. Due to bamboo’s strength and flexibility, perriand’s structure was light, slender, organic and permeable. Additionally, unlike the other tea house proposals sponsored for the exhibition, her sanctuary integrated landscape design and the roji, and was surrounded by dense bamboo plants creating a buffer area. “I decided on a pine structure with four and a half tatamis to accommodate five people… The structure seemed to float parallel to the floor, which was covered with dark stones and bamboo bowls containing limpid water… Eighteen bamboo rods -my magic circle- bowed their heads to make a 4.5-meter-height roof. A wooden ring was placed in the center, pierced by wholes to receive the rods; they also bore the weight of a Mylar sail, which formed a tent-like covering. Each section was fastened to the corresponding bamboo rod below. The green sail forming the roof also included a transparent section at the top, which allowed for a view of the sky and the passing clouds.”

Teamaster Rikiu

Taian Teahouse axonometric drawing

                                     

Perriand teahouse plan