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

Shiba kokan, whom you perhaps know as an artist and printmaker of some renown, possessed a no lesser attribute, although perhaps not so widely known, that being his ability in the art of crafting with words. For example:

One branch full-laden

With thy blossoms I must own

O flow’ring plum tree.

Now, there is a story behind this lovely verse, which has very little to do with tea at all, but which I think you will find most entertaining:

Long ago, there was a man named Mine Genwa, who happened to be the tea master to the lord of Izumo. One day, as he was walking through the countryside, as was his habit, he came upon a most beautiful plum tree, in full bloom, growing in the garden of a local farmer. Because he was a man of some sensitivity, as you might expect, he decided to stop there for quite a while in front of it, enjoying its beauty and fragrance. After a while, he said to the famer, “I would like to buy this tree.” A bit surprised, and perhaps also a bit amused, the famer at first refused to sell it, but in the end, when Genwa had offered him a very large sum, he at last relented.

With the deal concluded, Genwa departed, but early the next morning, he was back again, this time with food and sake, and proceeded to sit down and enjoy himself under the plum tree he had purchased. While he was enjoying his repast, the farmer happened by and told Genwa that he would carefully dig up the tree the next day, so as not to damage any of its roots, and then have it delivered to his house.

“Oh, no, no!” exclaimed Genwa. I do not want that at all. Please allow it to remain exactly where it is.”

“Well, Master,” replied the farmer, “at least allow me to bring you the fruit from your tree when it is ripe.”

“Thank you for such an offer,” said Genwa. “However, I have no use for the fruit. Please take whatever fruit you desire and enjoy it yourself. To be quite honest, all that I desire is to enjoy the beauty of the flowers, and certainly, it would be most unfair to do that, if they belonged to someone else. And so, I bought them.”

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!”

UNCLE HAYTO'S TEA TALES

The Ten Virtues of Cha

According to tradition, Myōei Shonin[1]of Toga-no-ō received some tea plants from Eisai Shōnin[2] and planted them there. To this day, both connoisseurs of tea and devotees of sadō (the Way of Tea) consider this tea to be the absolute best, largely because Shonin himself used it. He once wrote down what he considered to the, as he called them, the Ten Virtues of Tea:

1. Has the blessing of all the Gods.
2. Promotes filial piety.
3. Drives away the Devil.
4. Drives away drowsiness.
5. Keeps the Five Viscera[3] in harmony.
6. Fights off disease.
7. Strengthens friendships.
8. Disciplines the mind and body.
9. Calms the passions.
10. Gives a peaceful death.
[1] Myōei Shonin is credited with being the first actual tea manufacture in Japan.
[2] Eisai (1141 – 1215) was a Zen Buddhist monk. A bit of a renegade of the Tendai Buddhist School, he took up the Rinzai school of Zen and after studying in China, brought the discipline to Kyoto and Kyushu. This drew heavy criticism from the Tendai leaders and Eisai found himself charged with heresy. In 1199 he fled to Kamakura were Hōjō Masako took him under his protection and made him abbot of Kennin-ji Temple.
[3] The internal organs in a human body can be classified into five viscera organs (Wu Zang) and six bowel organs (Liu Fu). The five zang organs are: heart, liver, spleen, lungs and kidneys. The six fu organs are: stomach, small intestine, large intestine, gallbladder, urinary bladder and Triple Energizer (San Jiao).

UNCLE HAYATO'S TEA TALES

Morata Shuko,
Founder Of The Tea Ceremony

Shuko’s real name was Murata Mōkichi and he was the son of Moku-ichi Kenko of Nara. Even as a young man he had a taste for, if not an appreciation of, tea and an obsession with gambling at tocha, tea-tasting tournaments. Shuko, with a number of his friends and other delinquents, would gather at some nearby inn or roadhouse where they would hold impromptu parties and drink large amounts of tea, competing to see who could identify the “true” tea from Uji, a village on the southern outskirts of Kyoto, and which was not. These parties were often wild, decadent affairs where large sums of money or lavish prizes would go to the winners. Needless to say, this was not what his family had intended for him.

His addiction to tocha eventually was so out of hand that his family sent him away to the priesthood at the Shōmei-ji monastery where he lived for almost ten years. But being that he was young and lazy, he was eventually expelled from the temple. From there he journeyed to Kyoto where he entered the Daitoku-ji at Murasakino, where he studied under Ikkyu Sōjun[i]. His one great fault was that he would always fall asleep in the daytime (as well as nighttime) to the detriment of his studies and the amusement of his fellow students. Some clever fellow even went so far as to remark that if his teacher was Ikkyu (one slumber) then the Shuko should be called Hyakkyu (a hundred slumbers).

That he was a source of entertainment to his fellows and that his studies were indeed suffering did not go unnoticed by Shuko. He went so far as to go to a doctor to ask for a prescription to keep him awake so that he could study. The doctor, after listening to Shuko’s sad tale, suggested that tea was the best stimulant for the mind and told the hapless student to drink lots of it - and often. He took up drinking the tea of Toga-no-ō[ii] and found it very effective indeed. Soon he was not only drinking the tea by himself but whenever anyone came to see him he would offer them some as well, accompanied by considerable ceremony.

By some way or means, the Shōgun, Ashikaga Yoshimasa, heard of this and took an immediate interest; in fact, he was so interested that he summoned Shuko to the palace and ordered him to arrange a ceremony for drinking tea. Assisted by two friends, Nō-ami[iii] and Sō-ami[iv], Shuko compared the tea etiquettes already in use and selected parts from several to use. Yoshimasa was quite pleased by the young man’s efforts. He instructed Shuko to give up the monastic life and to build a hut for himself near Sanjo. The Shōgun also gave him a plaque, written in his own hand to be placed over the gate, which read Shu-kō-an-shu or “Pearl-Bright-Cell-Master.”

From then on, Shuko devoted himself only to the arts of cooking special meals, eating them, infusing tea and of course drinking it. He also took to entertaining his friends with these special meals, and of course preparing tea. In time at such gatherings, he and his friends started to entertain themselves by composing and reciting Japanese verses. Anyone who was anyone competed for the honor of his friendship and thus, cha or tea, began to increase in popularity.

Shuko was the first in Japan to whom the title of Tea Master was ever given. He died and the ripe age of eighty-one on the fifteenth of May in 1503 and was buried at the Shinju-an of the temple of Diatoku-ji at Murasakino in Kyoto, where he had been a student. To say that he was sorely missed would be an understatement; for after his departure, it did not take long for his friends and associates to realize that the quality of his “tea meetings” did not stem from the utensils he used or the pictures and writings on the walls but instead came directly from him and that, could never be replaced.

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[i] Ikkyu Sōjun (1394-1481) was an eccentric, nonconformist Japanese Zen Buddhist priest and poet. He had a great impact on the infusion of Japanese art and literature with Zen attitudes and ideals. He also had a strong influence on the development of the formal Japanese tea ceremony.
[ii] Toga-no-ō was the first place that tea was grown in Kyoto, which was designated as real tea verses the other places where it was grown in Japan. Yosai brought tea seeds and the processing technique from China along with Renzai Zen in about 1192 A.D. He gave some seeds to his disciples who planted them at Toga no O, at his temple Kozan-ji. Thus, Toga no O is considered the starting place for tea, followed by Uji.)
[iii] Nō-ami (Nakao Shinnō) (1397 – 1494) was a poet, painter, art critic, and the first non-priest who painted in the suiboku (water-ink) style of the Chinese. He was also the grandfather of Sō-ami.
[iv] Sō-ami (1472 – 1525) was a true renaissance man of the Muromachi Period of Japanese history. He was a painter, art critic, pot, landscape gardener, and master of the tea ceremony, incense ceremony and flower arrangement, and a leading figure in the development of Japanese aesthetics.

Copyright 2009 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.