UNCLE HAYATO'S TEA TALES: NAGAI DŌKYU

UNCLE HAYATO'S TEA TALES:

NAGAI DŌKYU

Nagai Dōkyu, whose real name was Nagai Zenaemon, was a direct vassal of the Tokugawa, was extremely well known for his bravery on the field of battle, but for reasons which have gone unexplained, after the battle at Odawara in 1590, possibly at the direction of Ieyasu, he went to serve under Gamo Ujisato, until his death at Fushimi Caslte in 1583. Dōkyu then went to serve with Uesugi Kagekatsu, and eventually retired to Fukaya in Kazusa province, which is now part of Chiba Prefecture, where he took up the life of a wealthy, provincial gentleman.

An old friend once sent him a very fine Seto tea caddy which he treasured greatly, but alas, one day, one of his maids accidentally dropped it and the caddy was broken. Of course, Dōkyu was upset and disciplined her soundly. Wishing to make amends to her master, the maid immediately went to her quarters and returned with a little pot that she had kept among her few valuables, and gave it to him; asking him to please use it as a tea caddy instead. Well, Dōkyu was reluctant at first, but eventually accepted the token of her regret, but in truth, he paid little attention to it and placed no great value on it.

Now, it just so happens that sometime later, the esteemed tea master, Kobori Maskazu, whom you may know as Kobori Enshū (小堀 遠州)a great artist, not to mention an aristocrat, the founder of the Enshū-ryū, was travelling in the area and stopped by to visit. There, he happened to notice the meager pot which Dōkyu occasionally used as a tea caddy. Enshū looked upon the small vessel in total amazement. Indeed, as he told Dōkyu, it was very rare, without a doub t a Chinese example of a Katatsuki, or a “shouldered jar.”

As Master Enshū instructed Dōkyu, the areas of Seto and Mino, which are now part of Gifu prefecture, were the centers for the production of such unglazed, utilitarian ceramic ware. There, the potters drew their inspiration from Chinese ceramics, including boththe green celadon porcelains and the dark brown tenmoku ware. In fact, as the Master explained, early tenmoku ceramics evolved from failed attempts to produce the Chinese celadon ceramics, but later, were given a brown-iron glaze and then fired at high temperatures to produce a glossy, brown surface, just as his tea caddy possessed.

Dōkyu could not have been more amazed or delighted. Out of respect for the object he gave it the name “Nagai Katatsuki” and treasured it, and the maid who had given it to him, quite higly. Later, after his passing, the “Nagai Katatsuki” became on of the treasures of the Tokugawa family.

What good fortune he had. But there are other stories as well about his good fortune. Let me tell you one of them, not about tea, but about a sword.

Dōkyu was once invited by his close friend Itakura Katsushige, who fought alongside Ieyasu at the Battle of Sekigahara, to come to Kyōto with him and visit the great leader. As it was, those were still rough times, and Dōkyu was a very trusting sort of man, and some would say a bit naïve as well. On his way to Kyōto he happened to meet a rōnin along the way, in Nagoya. Because he wished to visit a relative along the way, Dōkyu left his baggage with the rōnin and hurried on, but when he returned, he found that, as you might expect, the rōnin ha dleft, taking withim Nagai’s sword. But not being a totally deisprespectful man, the brigand left his own worn out rusty sword in its place.

Well, there was nothing else to do but to put on the sword himself and continue with his journey to Kyōto. When he arrived, Itakura told him that the autnorities were “cleaning out” the prison of condemned prisoners in anticiapation of the Shōgun’s arrival and he had ordered the sharpening of twenty or so swords for the executions. Dōkyu thought that perhaps this was the ideal opportunity to sharpen the old sword he had ben left with, and went to seen Honami, the sword sharpener, who looked it over and said that a little work, the sword should cut very well indeed. Once the work was done, and since there were several criminals still to be executed, Nagai had the sword tested on one of the prisoners. Just as Honami predicted, the sword cut through the condemned man’s neck as easy as anything.

Feeling a bit better about the sword, he took it back to Honami who took it apart so that it could be sharpened more and polished as well. When Honami took the sword apart and inspected the tang, he found the name “Masamune” on it. Honami was amazed and delighted and certified it as being a example of the great sword maker’s work. Nagai was ecstatic and in time, he presented the sword to Ieyasu as a gift. From that time on it was treasured by the Tokugawa as the “Nagai Masamune.”

Copyright 2013 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

UNCLE HAYATO'S TEA TALES: THE SMELL OF UNAGI

There is another story told in Edo that I want to tell you, which demonstrates rather the opposite spirit of that shown to us by good Mine Genwa. Not so long ago there was a man of some years, who was not so well regarded in his neighborhood, owing to his tendency toward being stingy; in fact, he was a miser of the worst sort. As a matter of routine, among his sometimes troubling and cheap habits, he would stop at noon to eat his rice near a particular unagi-ya, or eel shop, in Nihonbashi, so that he might enjoy the delicious aromas of cooked and smoked eel as a condiment to his meal – for free. Now, for quite a long time, the owner of the shop had noticed the pinchpenny’s behavior, but took it all in stride; however, one fine day, he decided that he had enough, and presented the man with a bill for the smell.

The tightfisted old man looked at the bill, thought, and then nodded his head. He took a small purse from the sleeve of his kimono, opened it, and took out the exact amount stipulated on the bill. With a sly grin, he then laid the money on a large stone on the ground next to him for the shop owner to see, then picked the money back up again, and returned it to his purse, with the remark that the smell of unagi was more than well paid for with the sight of money.

JAPANESE AESTHETICS: Plants in the Visual Arts (Geijutsu to Shokubutsu)

The graphic or illustrative arts in Japan traditionally have relied on the sensitivity of the artist to nature and thus, have been likely to be simple, compact, and modest, yet elegant. Traditional renderings of landscapes, for example, do not display the wide range of colors that is seen in Western oil paintings or watercolors. This same simplicity and grace applies to sculpture as well: delicately carved and small in size.

Plants, flowers and birds, or at least their outlines are frequently rendered in lifelike colors on fabric, lacquer ware and ceramics. The love of natural forms and an enthusiasm for the expression of nature in idealized style have been the key intentions in the development of traditional Japanese arts such as ikebana (flower arrangement, chanoyou (the tea ceremony), tray landscapes (bonkei), bonsai, and landscape gardening. It is through these arts that the Japanese people have attempted to incorporate the beauty of nature into their spiritual values and daily lives.

For the decoration of a teahouse, a modest flower was selected to conform with the principle that flowers should always look as if they were still in nature. The Japanese have sought to express the immensity as well as the simplicity of nature with a single wild flower in a solitary vase.

Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa. All rights reserved.

CHA-DO: It's Not Just For Ladies Anymore!

Even during the Meiji Era, the Era of Enlightened Rule, it was required, pre-marriage training for women. In the preceding Tokugawa Period, its study was encouraged among samurai and its practice the mark of a cultured gentleman. In the current Heisei Era, the time of Emperor Akihito it is becoming a much-sought out weapon in Japan’s war on stress. It is Cha-no-yu, Cha-Dō: the tea ceremony.

Throughout Japan, on any evening, and particularly on weekends, you may find Japanese men, business men, merchants, engineers, academics, gathered together in suburban tea houses, wearing kimono, hakama, and haori, to immerse themselves in traditional Japanese culture and in particular, this traditional Japanese art, as a means of shedding off the stress and strain of modern life. How? With what would be termed in the West as a “tea party.”

On any evening at the Urasenke School of Tea, one can find an ever increasing number of Japanese men studying the traditions and art of tea; indeed, on some evenings the number of male pupils (largely men over 40) outnumbers women. Japanese people, regardless of age or gender, are rediscovering the beauty and emotional calming effects of Cha-Dō, as a transcendental interlude, a time of peace and re-focusing one’s life. Numerous magazines have recently produced articles, even special “tea” editions, which were quickly sold out as Japan discovers that “new” is not always better and the old ways, tradition, can have a place of significance in the life of the modern Japanese man.

“Cha…it’s not just for ladies anymore!”