Karesansui: Japanese Stone Gardens

For centuries, Japanese stone gardens, karesansui, have been an object of fascination, holding both an aesthetic appeal and psychological allure. Japanese stone gardens are designed with zen principles and purposes dating back to the 11th century. 

The history behind stone gardens helps elucidate their intrinsic qualities. Analysis of the gardens elements helps to identify how the viewer receives such an intense emotional effect. Primary examples of stone gardens include the Ginkakuji in Kyoto and various gardens within the Daitokuji complex.

Definition

Japanese stone gardens are small, walled, stylized landscape containing carefully arranged rocks, moss, raked gravel and sand and pruned trees and bushes. They are viewed outside of the landscape, often the porch of the hojo, the dwelling of the chief monk of the temple or monastery. Zen gardens are intended to imitate the essence of nature; for instance, raking sand into swirls is a representation of water ripples.

History

                “Classical” zen gardens were created during the Muromachi Period, beginning in Kyoto, Japan as a product as Zen Buddhism. They were used to facilitate meditation about the true meaning of life. Speculation dubs this the reason why the ‘essence’ of nature is captured in stone gardens rather than nature itself, reducing all its forms into rock and significantly simplifying its intricacies; so that it may be more clearly understood.

                 However, Japanese rock gardens have existed since the Heian Period (784-1185), as noted in Sakuteiki , “Records of Garden Keeping,” the first manual of Japanese gardens by Tachibana no Toshitsuna. In fact, their origin is not even very Japanese at all, they were originally copied largely from the Chinese gardens of the Song Dynasty (960-1279). Symbolism was thus already instigated, Chinese used groups of rocks to represent Mount Penglai, reflecting Chinese mythology Horai.

 

                Dry landscapes kare-sansui, decreed the Sakuteiki, have “rocks placed upright like mountains, or laid out in a miniature landscape of hills and ravines, with few plants…[occasionally in the style of] a stream or pond, including the great river style, the mountain river style, and the marsh style. The ocean style features rocks that appeared to have been eroded by waves, surrounded by a bank of white sand, like a beach.” This excerpt exemplifies how stone gardens attempt to replicate nature. The main elements of white sand and gravel have long been a feature of Japanese gardens, symbolizing purity in Shinto religion and water, or like white space in Japanese paintings, emptiness and distance in zen gardens.

                The classic zen gardens arose in the Muromachi Period (1336-1573), simultaneous with the Renaissance in Europe. Though the Muromachi Period contained various wars and political disorder, it also began the Noh theater, Japanese ceremony, shoin style of Japanese architecture and most importantly Zen Buddhism. Samurai class and war lords admired the self-discipline doctrine. Early zen temples followed Chinese gardens with lakes and islands, but were modified by the 14^th and 15^th century to completely stimulate meditation. This primarily took place in Kyoto, the hub of new culture.

“Nature, if you made it expressive by reducing it to its abstract forms, could transmit the most profound thoughts by its simple presence. The compositions of stone, already common China, became in Japan, veritable petrified landscapes, which seemed suspended in time, as in a certain moments of Noh theater, which dates to the same period."- Michel Baridon

Saihō-ji, "The Temple of the Perfumes of the West," (Koke-dera, the Moss Garden) is thought to be the first garden to transition to the new style. It was formed by Buddhist monk  Musō Kokushi, who modified a Buddhist temple into a zen monastery in 1334.

Upon examination, the lower garden is in the traditional Heian Period style. This consists of the ground representing a pond, with several rocks representing islands. The upper garden is a dry rock garden which features three rock "islands”:

-Kameshima is the island of the turtle, and resembles a turtle swimming in a "lake" of moss.

-Zazen-seki is a flat "meditation rock." Meditation rocks are thought to transmit calm and silence.

-Kare-taki, is a dry "waterfall" composed of a stairway of flat granite rocks. Interestingly, the most famous attribute of the moss is only a recent development and has now grown to symbolize water.

                
The second classic example to follow was Kokushi’s next achievement in Tenryū-ji, the "Temple of the Celestial Dragon". It was strongly influenced by Song Dynasty paintings where mountains rise in the mist, reminiscent of depth and height. Again it is evident that nature is depicted as abstract and stylized. Muso Kokushi went on to build gardens of Ginkaku-ji, also known as the Silver Pavilion, which are noted for the innovative new pile of gravel, representing Mount Fuji. This design is now known as kogetsudai, or “small mountain facing the moon.” It has prompted other similar techniques that are called ginshanada, literally "sand of silver and open sea" as the landscape for which Mount Fuji is set.

                Ryōan-ji, is said to be the first purely abstract garden, constructed in Kyoto in the late 15th century. No certainty of its representation is reached, although recently Gert van Tonder of Kyoto University and Michael Lyons of Ritsumeikan University suggest the rocks form the subliminal image of a tree. Researchers claim that the mind can note the relationship between the rocks, creating the calming effect. In comparison, Daisen-in can be quite literarily analyzed; “a river of white gravel represents a metaphorical journey through life; beginning with a dry waterfall in the mountains, passing through rapids and rocks, and ending in a tranquil sea of white gravel, with two gravel mountains.” In other words, the river of life.

Design

As rocks are the main element, their selection and placement is crucial in creating the design of the garden. The phrase for “creating a garden” is actually synonymous for “setting stones” : ishi wo tateru koto; literally, the "act of setting stones upright.” If the rocks are placed incorrectly, the owner of the garden would suffer misfortune.

Stones are classified as tall vertical, low vertical, arching, reclining, or flat.

Tall vertical - Stones taller than it is wide; used on the taller half of a waterfall or as the central stone in a composition. 

Low vertical- Stone is wider than it is tall; used to complement tall vertical stones 

Arching - Oddly shaped stone overhangs on right or left; used to "give strength and stability to vital points of the garden such as the corner of a stone bridge. To achieve this a stone can be planted at an angle to make a moderate arch more prominent."

Reclining - Stone in shape of a reclining animal "with the head on one end higher and narrower than the hips on the opposite end. Masters use this diagonal top line to draw the eye to another element close by in the garden, almost as though it is a pointer."

Flat - Stones less than a foot tall, but it may be very long and wide with a flat top surface; used in front of a composition , at water's edge, and as a bridge. 

Different natural elements are represented in various ways. For instance, "mountains” are symbolized by igneous volcanic rocks, or sharp, jagged mountain rocks. “Seashore” or river borders for gravel sea are created using smooth, rounded sedimentary rock. Rocks with animal-like or other strange features were not prioritized as they are in Chinese gardens. Emphasis is placed less on individual rocks and more on the ‘harmony of composition.’

 

The harmony of composition was created intricately and strategically. Some of the principle rules outlined in SuXX read as follows:

"Make sure that all the stones, right down to the front of the arrangement, are placed with their best sides showing. If a stone has an ugly-looking top you should place it so as to give prominence to its side. Even if this means it has to lean at a considerable angle, no one will notice.

“There should always be more horizontal than vertical stones. If there are "running away" stones there must be "chasing" stones. If there are "leaning" stones, there must be "supporting" stones."

“Rocks should be rarely if ever placed in straight lines or in symmetrical patterns.”

“The best arrangement is one or more groups of three rocks.”

These reasoning behind these rules are not purely for aesthetic pleasure, but again are meant to be symbolic. A popular triad arrangement has one centric tall vertical rock surrounded by two smaller rocks, and is represent Buddha and his two attendants.

Other common combinations include:

-A tall vertical rock with a reclining rock

-A short vertical rock and a flat rock

-A triad of a tall vertical rock, a reclining rock and a flat rock

Important factors also include variation in color, shape and size of rock. Bright colors are avoided so as to not distract the viewer, and grains ought to run in the same direction to promote unity and fluidity. The number of vertical and horizontal rocks should be balanced.

Sauteishi, "discarded" or "nameless" rocks were used towards the end of the Endo period, placed in seemingly random places to ‘add spontaneity’ to the garden.

The second element in addition to large stones is gravel. Gravel is preferred over sand because it is less disturbed by rain and wind. Gravel is not only used as theswirling, sea background upon which the large stones are placed. The physical act of raking the gravel into ripples and waves helps Zen priests concentrate. The lines must be perfect. The pattern often unfolds after the stones are placed, reliant upon their placement. Not all patterns are rigid, creativity is considered a challenge.

Symbolism

Stones function to represent all landscapes, from mountains to water. Stones and manicured shrubs, karikomi, hako-zukuri are used interchangeably. Moss is functions as "land" covered by forest. The mountains are often in imitation of Horai, the legendary home of the Eight Immortals in Buddhist mythology. Large stones can also be boats, or creatures- particularly turtles and carps. As a group they may symbolize a waterfall, or a flying crane.

Some speculate that the gardens also held a political message in the Heian period. Sakutei-ki wrote:

"Sometimes, when mountains are weak, they are without fail destroyed by water. It is, in other words, as if subjects had attacked their emperor. A mountain is weak if it does not have stones for support. An emperor is weak if he does not have counselors. That is why it is said that it is because of stones that a mountain is sure, and thanks to his subjects that an emperor is secure. It is for this reason that, when you construct a landscape, you must at all cost place rocks around the mountain."

But some gardens have no concrete definition to their composition. In contrast, garden historian Gunter Nitschke wrote about gardens: "The garden at Ryōan-ji does not symbolize anything, or more precisely, to avoid any misunderstanding, the garden of Ryōan-ji does not symbolize, nor does it have the value of reproducing a natural beauty that one can find in the real or mythical world. I consider it to be an abstract composition of "natural" objects in space, a composition whose function is to incite meditation." This relates back to the original focus of the Japanese stone gardens: to elicit peace, and provoke thought, rather than just relay an image.

Other Zen garden influences

The invention of the zen garden was concurrent and connected to developments in Japanese ink landscape paintings. Japanese painters such as Sesshū Tōyō (1420–1506) and Soami (died 1525) simplified their works of nature, including only its most basic aspects and leaving the background blank. More evidence is accrued when it is noted that Soami supposedly help design both Ryōan-ji and Daisen-in, though this was never documented.

Karesansui garden scenery is known to be inspired originally from Chinese and later also Japanese, landscape paintings. Like paintings, the gardens depict natural landscapes; they also use simplicity to evoke calm instead of overwhelming the viewer with detail. Some gardens are thought to be direct translations of a specific scene. The technique of “borrowed scenery”, such as hills in the background, is also sometimes incorporated; Shakkei. Ink painting is still retained in Buddhist work; and Japanese stone gardens are considered art.

Allure

                Buddhistic principles circulate Mahayana Buddhism, circulating around meditation. The garden is structured thus to elicit tranquility and guide the meditator to a higher state of calmness. The stone’s placement is not solely based on the natural image in mind, where rocks symbolize mountains and gravel the sea that surrounds them.

Aesthetically, the larger stones are the main object and the smaller stones used to guide the eye towards them, raked in strategic curves leading to them or encircling them, focusing the eye. The smaller stones are used to create a plane for the larger stone centerpieces to sit, and are utilized to make soothing lines around them in a clear path for the viewer to follow them. This process is soothing and results in the simple design. Supposedly, their representation should additionally psychologically stimulate calmness, that of mimicking nature. In this manner, both the view and its meaning have principally calming effects. That their subject matter is and of nature also deepens a more basic, purity of feeling and hopefully, of thought.

Thus stone gardens are able to elicit tranquility, through their appearance and their significance. In viewing a stone garden from a distance, the viewer is also not submerged and must reflect, and puzzle over the design. It is also therefore able to be viewed in its entirety, as a whole rather than as glance by glance screen shots if you were standing within it. As your eye travels, following the guided pattern, the swirls reminiscent of sea and the natural asymmetry of piled stones, mountains, within it- your mind may dolefully wander, and in observing the natural world you may glean something from it.

There is certainly a purpose to the garden, but even purposeless it has an effect. And even affectless, it has a history. For these basic reasons alone people are consistently drawn to stone gardens, their simplicity is captivating, their serenity remarkable and thus their success is undeniable.

Today

Today, stone gardens have been created and managed far from Japan on many different scales for many different purposes. Gravel and large stones have been integrated into landscape design as essential earth elements, and as essential partners as such. The basic principles of the stone gardens can be maintained in much larger, complex gardens; a corner of a pond, a swirl of gravel to frame flowers rather than a pile of stones. Moss is decorative in many instances, much less of a symbol- but always in collaboration with stone. There is such a timelessness to the stone garden’s simplicity that it can be assumed that stone gardens will persist, continuing to be an active trend for gardeners and philosophers alike. 


For more information, be sure to  investigate the following sources


Young, David and Michiko, (2005), The Art of the Japanese Garden
Nitschke, Gunter, (1999) Le Jardin japonais - Angle droit et forme naturelle, 
Baridon, Michel (1998). Les Jardins- Paysagistes, Jardiniers, Poetes
Murase, Miyeko, (1996), L'Art du Japon, 
Elisseeff, Danielle, (2010), Jardins japonais
Klecka, Virginie, (2011), Concevoir, Amenager, Decorer Jardins Japonais

Brief Update

So as not to be redundant, I have just included the outline of my presentation. The actual information will be included in my presentation.

Japanese stone gardens have been an object of fascination for foreigners for centuries.

-inform of basic history, belief

- In Sakuteiki, it is shown that the oldest Japanese garden manuals equate the creation of a garden with setting the stones. The fundamental principles, simplicity and calmness, I have summarized above, but the history that provoked the mediation that the garden is meant for is much more complex. There is little doubt that the use of stones and their reverence is rooted in Shinto belief, but the knowledge of stone worship in prehistoric Japan is limited. Stones and their placement are of major concern in garden design today probably because of their significance in the past. Their initial spiritual connection cannot be denied; poor placement was thought to lead to misfortune and illness.

-examine the zen principles and purpose that form the stone garden

-Obviously, to understand the Japanese stone gardens you must understand the views from which they were founded; primarily Zen thought. Very generally, Zen thought is derived from Mahayana Buddhism, circulating around meditation. The garden is structured thus to elicit tranquility and guide the meditator to a higher state of calmness.

-analyze mysterious simplicity that is both aesthetically pleasing and intriguing.

- identifying the elements that determine whether or not form does follow function.

There are two basic, crucial components: large stones, and smaller ones. Their placement is not as random as they appear. The larger stones are the main object and the smaller stones used to guide the eye towards them, raked in strategic curves leading to them or encircling them, focusing the eye. The smaller stones are used to create a plane for the larger stone centerpieces to sit, and are utilized to make soothing lines around them in a clear path for the viewer to follow them. This process is soothing and results in the simple design before you.

-examples

                - Ginkakuji in Kyoto, Daitokuji complex

-discuss our attraction, still present today

                -meaningless, maybe, but not effectless

                -historically rich

-cite list

Japanese Stone Gardens

Japanese stone gardens have been an object of fascination for foreigners for centuries. They have a mysterious simplicity that is both aesthetically pleasing and intriguing. I hope to examine the zen principles that form the stone garden, distinguishing conjecture from the historical evidence. 


To provide a brief background, without spoiling my presentation-
Obviously, to understand the Japanese stone gardens you must understand the views from which they were founded; primarily Zen thought. Very generally, Zen thought is derived from Mahayana Buddhism, circulating around meditation. The garden is structured thus to elicit tranquility and guide the meditator to a higher state of calmness. 


Now, after recognizing the 'purpose' of the garden, the second part in analysis is to examine the garden itself, identifying the elements that determine whether or not form does follow function. There are two basic, crucial components: large stones, and smaller ones. Their placement is not as random as they appear. The larger stones are the main object and the smaller stones used to guide the eye towards them, raked in strategic curves leading to them or encircling them, focusing the eye. The smaller stones are used to create a plane for the larger stone centerpieces to sit, and are utilized to make soothing lines around them in a clear path for the viewer to follow them. This process is soothing and results in the simple design before you. 


In Sakuteiki, it is shown that the oldest Japanese garden manuals equate the creation of a garden with setting the stones. The fundamental principles, simplicity and calmness, I have summarized above, but the history that provoked the mediation that the garden is meant for is much more complex. There is little doubt that the use of stones and their reverence is rooted in Shinto belief, but the knowledge of stone worship in prehistoric Japan is limited. Stones and their placement are of major concern in garden design today probably because of their significance in the past. Their initial spiritual connection cannot be denied; poor placement was thought to lead to misfortune and illness. 


There is clearly much more to the beautiful design than meet the eye.
Stay tuned for a more in-depth look at Japanese Stone Gardens and their significance at my presentation! Appreciation always grows with knowledge. 

Contemporary Japanese Art

Nara Yoshitomo's pale colors and simplistic design are instantly recognizable. So too is his use of fluid, curved line. This contributes to the overwhelming watered-down, serene mood pastel colors and swirls indicate. More interesting however, is the subject matter. The object is a child, presumably, with lack of wrinkles and broad, sweeping forehead, baby-like. It is also made, like most of Yoshitomo's work, to be incredibly 'cute'; wide, far-spaced eyes, little nose, chipmunk cheeks and a simple mouth. The head overwhelms body. It is unclear whether it is a girl or boy, but that fact becomes irrelevant- what is more important to notice is that the child is smoking. Moreover, there is an incredible nonchalance to it, the cigarette casually hanging, its soft yellow and white perfectly complimenting the shirt and skin tones. It has the effect ultimately of blurring into one, even the blue of the sky is soft. Once this fact is absorbed, the viewer takes a second glance, noting the eyes. The eyes here claim the ultimate attention, communicating the message rather succinctly: they are narrowed, and hard, not a gleam of light. Though the child is not looking at you, the narrowed eyes, sullen expression of a tight-lipped mouth, crowned with a cigarette- tells the viewer that this is a naughty, naughty child. Perhaps a malicious one. The aura of mischief that could have been relayed by making the mouth a smile becomes one of anger because it is instead a tight line, coming across more angry. The image may be minimalistic, both in  design and tone, but it communicates a thunderous message; that of a bitter, bad child smoking a cigarette, either not knowing or not caring about the consequences. This essentially causes the viewer to sense unease, because this is not a common and not a pleasurable sight. Nara Yoshitomo is thus successful in manipulating a sweet image into darker content. 



Takashi Murakami's work is also made distinctive by his characteristic cartoon exaggerations/manipulations  of  the popular D.B. character. In this particular piece, Murakami had distorted D.B.'s face to a face-splitting grin, bearing colorful, sharp teeth- in addition to adding a multitude of disproportional, mismatching and randomly placed eyes above the mouth. The entire head rests on a swooping wave that dissipates once it passes him. The image itself appears discolored, with random streaks and blending colors blossoming across the panels. The initial happiness and light, fun intrigue of the colors and centric, bright animated eye, is turned sour by actually, closely looking at the creature. He is disfigured and bizarre; also prior knowledge of the popular cartoon character and what he ought to look like makes the viewer uncomfortable. But still, the image retains a certain amount of playfulness, the curved lines and bright colors frame D. B. and the image serves instead to perhaps poke fun of the too-cute cartoon character. He almost seems to be melting into the colorful background. Murakami presents a different version of D.B., and certainly a more interesting one. 

Haku Maki Poem 43

This image is a poem written in ancient characters. It is simple letters super-imposed, the letters are untinged and outlined in black. The background is a deep blue marbled black, giving a more calm mood and a very aqua-appearance. It is remarkably small, forcing the viewer to pay close attention, 8.75" x 6.5". The poem is symmetrical, and with little attention to style, more child-like, simplistic renderings. It may have been purposely cryptic, considering that the woodblock was made in 1969. This style may actually fit into the 'hippie', calm notions of the late 60s early 70s. Unfortunately the meaning of this poem is not known, but presumably it would relate to the calm ambiance of the colors framing it. Haku Maki was actually originally from China, but studied in Japan as a sōsaku hanga artist, known for his abstract-calligraphic prints to produce "striking and serene images" (http://www.artelino.com/articles/haku-maki.asp) He is best known 
for his work in the book “Festive Wine: Ancient Japanese Poems 
from the Kinkafu”, a translation of 21 ancient poems called 
Kinkafu or “Music for Wagon Songs”. 

Crow On A Branch (#08 / 2006.044)

It is a strikingly simple design. The paper is is good condition, faded but unscratched and uncreased. The individual brushstrokes are not particularly discernible, but are still portrayed as clean, thick and purposeful, indicating a generally good quality printing as well. At the top of the black outlined frame, however, the blue of the sky runs a little outwards, and a blank space without sky is created, but apart from this centrification issue, the printer accurately captured the painting. It is difficult to tell whether or not the lines are sharp or dull, owing to the way the colors, similar hues of grey and black, merge, as opposed to a more delicate composition of fine lines and more complicated details might not. The colors themselves are somewhat faded, though the nature of black is always deep and it is unclear whether or not the blue is intentionally light or whether time made it so.


Moving away from the condition of the print, one notes that the subject is very uncomplicated: a crow on a branch, as the title reflects. Although a common image, certainly not unique to Japan alone, the black bird alone on the branch conveys a sense of serenity and independence, coming from the simplicity and solace of the dark bird against a light, optimistic background. The season in which the image takes place is unclear, although the lack of leaves on the tree may indicate winter. At the same time, it may be more symbolically created without leaves, making the grey and black colors of the bird and tree the same in order to unify them in their natural relationship and element. There is no discernible narrative, though an apt genre might be a reverence for nature. Instead the image is a captured, still moment that may be intentionally created as a moment at any time, an emotional response from any story. The print may be trying to convey a sense of strength and wisdom to the viewer, emphasized by the simplicity of the subject matter and chosen colors. The illusion of the future and a sense of reflection is also indicated in the birds gaze out into the open sky, his perch and the image's center placed heavily on the left side of the image. A contemporary viewer in the painting's time may find it easy to identify with, drawn more by the emotional response than another more entertaining, decorative piece. The print was created to appeal to many and all audiences, with a simple theme and simple message apt in various occasions, a call to independence/reflection and an appreciation of nature.


Formal aspects of the print include the right-centered format, branches struck outwards against the sky. The focus is on the bird and the tree, almost one by that dark, black-grey color, and how both point to the distance of the empty blue sky on the left. There is little direction, the image could be viewed from multiple perspectives, though interestingly it is placed eye level with the viewer, and not up higher or at a distance like it might be observed in reality. There are three elements: the bird, the tree, and the sky. The bird and tree come together, the tree supporting the bird and the bird crafting the personality of the tree by its own gaze and presence. Both are placed sharply against the blue backdrop of the sky, which serves to highlight their color as well as offer a contrast into an otherwise forlorn mood connoted by black, giving perspective and a sense of the future; allowing the bird to look pensively up into the sky. It is a static image because no movement is indicated nor is it necessary for the image's purpose. Shen Nanpin was a realist in the Song Dynasty, and so the attempt of shadow and sculpted mass, as opposed to two-dimensional images, is evident. The image is of chuban (10w x 7.5h) size and not part of a triptych; there is no indication of more tree or the view of the bird.


Evocatively, the viewer gains a sense of calmness and independence, and may think conceptually of loneliness, determination, the future, the simplicity of a bird's life, nature- or some combination thereof. It is sad and reflexive by nature because of the dark colors, the pensive look and the unblossomed tree. The message conveyed may be one connecting the solitary, thoughtful bird to us; a deeper connection to nature, our similarities and gratitude of it, is also insinuated.


Birds are symbolized frequently throughout various different cultures. Interestingly, the most popular Japanese birds in art, the crane and chidori (shore bird), are not depicted in this image, instead there is a more discreet, less beautiful common bird. However, birds are generally used in Japan as motifs for their ability to conquer strong winds and high waves during migration. They can also symbolize longevity and good luck. This particular image may have originally little symbolic intent though, as Shen Nanpin was known more for emphasis on realism and was a native of China rather than Japan, though he studied in Nagasaki for three years. He schooled others in three-dimensional thought and even influencing Katsushika Hokusai, known for his series "Thirty-six views of Mount Fuji". This print is actually from a collection dedicated to great artists in calligraphy and painting and is a copy of the original work. Such Japanese 'copy books' are commonly used to document important and influential works so that they may be spread, learned from and appreciated. 

Tamoto Kenzo Ainu Woman seaweed ca.1900

Her gaze is the first thing one notices. It is a remarkably human, vulnerable look, brows furrowed with a worried and tired gaze aimed directly at the viewer. But if not for the title, you might not even realize it was a woman; the clothes she wears are loose, plain and ambiguous. Her hair is chopped short. Further from being undecorated, her mouth and head are wrapped. Her work is coarse; picking up clumps of sticky seaweed from some abandoned shore. Small, simple houses, perhaps the workings of a village, are seen at a distance.


Instinctively you are inclined to categorize the woman as a poor one, judging by her clothes, her choice of work, the toughness with which she complies in her task and the weakness in her eyes. This may very well be, however, a typical chore and the inquisitive glance one of irritation at the interruption of the photographer. But the outline of her lips indicate more of a sigh as they are slack, rather than in a tight frown, though it is difficult to tell, more complementary of sadness than of anger. It is not an enviable task, and therefore may be easily considered more obligatory, and certainly not a career choice- more evidence for a poorer lifestyle. However, given the time period, this work may also be typical for those who dwelled outside of the more 'urban' areas of Japan and comparison to neighbors, the woman may be average.  


Interestingly, she is alone, solely in charge of the seaweed. First this means that it is not a 'work force task', requiring many people. But it also contributes to a feeling of melancholy, one initiated by her troubled gaze and deepened by the monotonous, strange task. Seaweed itself is a very slimy, unattractive and unappealing flora. Making the village distant also adds to the image's mood.  photographer may have wanted to capture a moment in daily life, and in an instant it is conveyed by her gaze, which is strategically in the center of the photo. It is almost challenging, to look her in they eye as she does what could very well be man's work. 


The picture is intriguing because of the sense of rawness, a simple task and a simple woman working. Seaweed and the sea are crucial to Japanese culture, being an island, food and culture fundamentally revolve around the sea, as exemplified today by the ever-popular sushi. But that vision is remarkably reduced by the simplicity and pureness of this image. It is a captivating shot, in which the viewer is provoked by her stare and feels as if she ought to be helped, even if unsure of what from. 

New Home, New Experiances

I am a farmer's son. We recently had to give up our home due to a monsoon that destroyed our land. My father   is now searching for a new land, and prospecting many different villages. I never expected to travel so far, nor have I had any experience with larger, more urban villages. Five images in particular have impressed themselves upon me along the way. 


The first was just this creek bend, a little while away from my old home.

I never knew it existed, because we were on the other side of that mountain, to the right. And I was shocked to see that the land was untouched by the heavy rainfall; my father explained that the valley almost functioned like a drain so it was equally spread. It makes the mountain look so big, with this meek river snaking through. It is very different, looking up at the mountain and across the river, rather than down from the mountain and at eye level with gushing water. I realized how hills work. They are beautiful and dangerous, like the river. I admired the man I saw, crouched down to the left. First he is insignificant, but it is his insignificance that then makes him bold. 


But I knew nature. I had known it, sown it- since I was born. What we came across a few days later, I had never before experienced. 



It took me by surprise, suddenly coming out of the woods to a neat fence, guiding our way down, and hosting a splendid view of tidy fields and organized houses. The crowded village gives way to the sea, in a clash that fascinated me. How could so many people reap the benefits of the sea? Were there enough fish? I had only ever seen few fishermen share a wharf, and never anyone who chose to live nestled up to the temperamental sea. I could not believe how neatly planned the town was. Nature here was so manipulated, from the fence cut into the rock, to the houses along the shore, with the closely-plotted fields taking up every ounce of land in between. It was a groomed nature, and I didn't know if I liked it, but I was certainly impressed with how the villagers had tamed it. 


Then, of course, came the villagers themselves. 



She looked at me curiously. Casually. I shouldn't have been peeking in the window anyway, but I suppose her mind was wondering as the shampooer performed his massage and she caught my eye. I didn't know you could pay someone to rub your muscles. I thought that's what mothers were for. It seemed kind of silly to me, all the tools and pampering, when you could just stretch out on a mat and do it yourself. I guess we didn't have the luxury of having people to do it for you, so it struck me as kind of a silly, lazy thing. But I wondered if I wasn't a little jealous. She seems so calm, all the tools splayed out on the floor, the man easy with his work and the second women, ever attentive. The main woman just looks like a queen, spoilt in this pretty room. She wasn't particularly well-dressed, I thought, but I didn't know much about women's clothing, I didn't know that it was the lowly entertainers who showed off, and that it was the posh women who wore their modesty proudly.


And then I fell in love.



It may have only been for a second, but I'm sure that's what love feels like. I still wish I had got her name. She was practicing a dance, not yet in dance clothes, but caught off guard when she saw me, she was clearly in her element. Poised. She was so young! I couldn't believe someone so young was already employed. I only found out later that it wasn't much of a choice, and that her profession was a constraining one. She must have been poorer than I was, to have been so quickly 'bought' and 'sold.' But at that moment, she was just a girl, in common clothing. Just a kettle at her side, a fan carefully in her arm. Natural, in an unnatural stance, and it makes you wonder about her, what she was thinking. What her life must be like. 


We grew tired of the villages. My father did not like them. Nor did my younger siblings, who were used to open spaces and unaccustomed to the formalities required in the cities. We hiked a little more, and then stumbled upon this view.


Here. Here is where we now live. 

It is beautiful. It is is not too hilly like home, but it is wide, bountiful and green, with just a trace of a mountain in the distance. There are no crowded villages, no fields to compete with. The simplicity, straightness of the horizon is becoming to me, even after it seems that we have come so far just to be back at some place like we started. I can't imagine living anywhere else. Maybe farming is in my blood, because I know this image might be nothing but boring to the boys from the village. But trees, soil- they're all you need, and they're beautiful unto themselves. You don't need a sea, a village, a people- anything to frame it. It just is; raw. And it's better that way. 

Globe trotting

There is something very serene about this image. The Buddha is the central focus, a cool blue grey stone, framed by greenery. He rests atop a simple base, an elegant alter before him which is being made use of  at the moment the photo was taken. In the foreground you can see a wooden ladder, making the image more casual and modern than if it had been left out and demonstrating how the statue is perceived and used. 

This communicates the enormity of the Buddha, and impresses his significance upon the viewer. The natural setting he is in implies that he is indeed one with peace, as his relaxed, meditative position already shows. The most intriguing part of the picture is the interaction of people with the statue. The distant, peaceful atmosphere of the statue is tainted with their presence, the man leaning against him casually, observing the photographer, is almost disrespectful as he is out of place. The women looks caught off guard, turning to face the photographer. If anything, this photo takes a natural, religious idea of the Buddha and exemplifies how it is applied in modern, daily life.

This lightly colored, carefully composed image possesses a calmness and symmetry. Two woman are bowed facing one another, and the sunlight fills the wide, fairly empty room. There are few things within the room besides the women and the small objects in front of them, emphasizing space. By extension, it emphasizes simplicity, and the beauty in it. The pastel colors add to this theme. The photograph is also at an interesting angle, placing the subjects not directly in front of it nor as a profile but at an almost awkward diagonal. This seems to demonstrate the naturalness of the scene, as if just coming upon it and observing it in its natural state rather than focusing on a more professional, direct photographic angle. The scene is light, natural, simple and perhaps that is why I as the viewer am so taken by it. 

Felice Beato's Japan: People and Places

This candid shot is at once very beautiful and very homey. It portrays four people, two young Japanese women and two older Japanese men. They are sitting causally playing a game, and appear to be studying it attentively. The setting is plain; so are their clothes. This could be anywhere, and these people could be anyone, likely from a lower class, given their attire. The stillness communicated by the grey background and somber clothing is emphasized by the fact that none of the people are speaking, and none of them are smiling. The game is either one more of concentration, or not working in its purpose to beguile laughter. One of the women has her head tilted in a natural stance indicating careful thought, the other is also staring at the board with a nondescript expression. The males seem less concerned, patiently waiting as one exams what may be a sort of smoke. The men are considerably darker than the females, and may be by extension day laborers. That the women are present with them could either mean that they are obliged, as wives or geisha, to do so, or are also poor themselves and by acquaintance decided to join the game. There may be subtle symbolism in that the men are older and darker and the women fairer and younger, perhaps insinuating the sad state of affairs they have come to. The simplicity and honesty of the photo is somewhat perturbing, given the dark hues and expressions, showing an altogether familiar act of playing a game, but one that does not so readily induce pleasure. It is a serious, candid shot that does not hide reality but instead puts it forth, allowing the viewer to decide if this is a setting they themselves would enjoy. 



The immersion of the people within nature is striking. This image is wholly dominated by the beautiful nature behind the few fishermen in the foreground, but the figures seem very at home within the habitat. Depicted here are two groups of fishermen, one with three men and two female companions facing the viewer, the other three men with their backs turned, observing an unknown stature in the distance. They are all on a river, the bank of which is filled with trees. 


There is a serenity communicated solely due to the natural aspect of water and plants, but also because the figures are all casually seated, apart for one, who stands akimbo. The photographer must have disrupted their moment, for they are all looking at the viewer, though it is hard to tell whether it is hostile or simply curious. Nonetheless, this tells the viewer that their position and actions here must be usual, and it is noticeable to have a foreigner watch.  That they are on the river at all shows that they must have business there, or some sort of occupation; because although they are leisurely, the upper class would instead utilize private ponds for their nature intake. The general mood is of one creeping into the normal life for these people, disrupting them at their most candid- but that is what makes the image so authentic and interesting.