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WABI SABI IN THE ART OF ZEN

AS ZEN HAS BEEN the guiding light for Japanese thought and philosophy for over one thousand years, it has also provided the moral and aesthetic underpinnings for all Japanese arts as they have evolved over the centuries. Through its influence on the nobility and the leading artistic figures through the centuries, it has become ingrained in the Japanese aesthetic sensibility. Therefore, a detailed look at Zen and its development in Japan may throw some further illumination on the aesthetic ideology of wabi sabi.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF ZEN

Buddhism was founded in northeastern India and was based on the teachings of Siddhartha Gautama, who is now known as the Buddha, or the Enlightened One.

Born into a life of luxury around 563 B.C. he was so struck by the suffering of those living outside the palace that he was spurred to renounce the material world and to seek answers to the mysteries of life. After passing through a stage of extreme asceticism, the Buddha took the middle path, which avoided the pitfalls of both overindulgence and self-denial, and after a great struggle he is said to have attained enlightenment under a bodhi tree.

Realizing the nature of reality, he started to preach and formed an ideology based on the Four Noble truths,

The Four Noble Truths

1. Life is suffering.

2. All suffering is caused by ignorance of the nature of reality and the resultant craving, attachment, and grasping that stem from such ignorance.

3. Suffering can be stopped by overcoming ignorance and one’s attachment to the material world.

4. The path that leads away from suffering is the Noble Eightfold Path, which consists of right views, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right-mindedness, and right contemplation.

These ideas were passed down from one disciple to another through the ages, but Zen Buddhism was to receive its inspiration from China, where the Buddhist ideas were to undergo radical changes as they passed through a culture that already had strong religious and cultural ideas of its own.

The Taoist movement in China fused with the new ideas coming from India to form the Ch’an school of Buddhism, and this later became known as Zen in Japan. The essential Taoist philosophical and mystical beliefs are to be found in the Tao-te Ching ( Classic of the Way and Its Power), a text dating from around the third century b.c. and attributed to the historical figure Lao-tzu, and also in the Chuang-tzu, which was written in the same era and was accredited to a philosopher called Chuang-tzu.

Taoism has been described as “the art of being in the world,” and the main thrust of its teaching was opposed to the Confucian ideas of social order. Instead, it stressed that the individual should seek to flow with the watercourse way, the Tao. Lao-tzu described this mystical concept, which like Zen defies objective analysis, in the following way:

The Tao is something vague and indefinable

How indefinable! How Vague!

Yet in it there is a form.

How vague, how indefinable

Yet in it there is a thing.

How obscure! How deep!

Yet in it there is a substance.

The substance is genuine

And in it sincerity.

From of old until now

Its name never departs,

Whereby it inspects all things.

How do I know all things in their suchness?

It is because of this.

—Daisetz Suzuki, Zen and Japanese Culture

To be at one with the Tao, one must practice wu-wei and refrain from forcing anything to happen that does not happen of its own accord.

To be at one with the Tao is to accept that we must yield to a power much greater than ourselves. Through this acceptance of the natural flow of life, and by discarding all learned doctrines and knowledge, a person is able to achieve real unity with the Tao. This harmony brings with it a mystical power known as To–, which enables those who have harnessed it to peer beyond the horizons of everyday perception into a world where there are no mundane distinctions between all the opposing ideas of the dualistic world.

During the time prior to the influx of Buddhist ideas from the Indian subcontinent, the Taoists sought to extend their lives through alchemy, physical regimes, rigorous hygiene, and breathing exercises, but under the influence of Buddhism, Taoist religious groups turned more toward an institutional monasticism. There was also a shift from the focus on bodily immortality to the spiritual immortality offered by the Buddhists.

The fusion of Taoism with Buddhist ideas is thought to have been inspired by the arrival of the eccentric monk known as the Bodhidharma (referred to as the Daruma in Japan). Bodhidharma was twenty-eighth in the direct line from the first Buddhist disciple, Kasyapa, and when he brought his style of Buddhism to China in 527, it was to start ripples that sent shock waves not just through China but across the seas to Japan as well.

On arrival in China, Bodhidharma was offered an audience with Emperor Wu, who, it seems, was seeking approval from the Indian monk for the devout work he felt he had done. But much to the disappointment of the expectant emperor, the sage, when asked if there was any merit in his building of temples and copying of scriptures, replied, “No merit.” Deflated by the abrupt and unexpected reply, the emperor then asked Bodhidharma who was this man who stood before him, to which Bodhidharma said, “I know not, Your Majesty.”

From this uncompromising start, Bodhidharma then went on to increase the aura of mystery that surrounded him by spending the next nine years meditating in front of a wall in a cave. Legend has it that he was so determined to succeed in his enlightenment that he cut off his own eyelids when they prevented him from staying awake while meditating. It is also part of folklore that he meditated for so long that his arms and legs fell off, and this is the reason why, in Japan, the Daruma is depicted by red papier-mâché models without legs or arms.

A man called Shang Kwang, who sought the wisdom of Bodhidharma, asked that he might be admitted to study under him. Though he waited in the freezing snow for a week, it was not until he had cut off his own left arm and presented it as a symbol of his determination to learn that Bodhidharma relented and passed on his wisdom to the man who was to become his successor.

The pragmatic and disciplined Chinese thinkers of that time tried to demystify the very ethereal teachings of Indian Buddhism and to bring in a framework that would allow the great insights to be harnessed in a more practical way. The meeting of the three religions of Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism was depicted in the famous picture of the vinegar tasters where Sakyamuni (the name given to the Buddha), Confucius, and Lao-tzu stood around a large vat of vinegar that symbolized life. Confucius found it sour, the Buddha found it bitter, but the Taoist Lao-tzu pronounced it sweet. Taoism seeks to accept things as they are and to find beauty and wonder in the face of the mundane.

Although Zen is in name a Buddhist movement, the impact of Taoism was profound and far-reaching, and the two ideologies are closer in nature than are Zen and other Buddhist teachings. Both eschew learning and formality, and both advocate a return to the natural state of nondualism by transcending our shared view of the world to see reality as it is.

The first seeds of Buddhism were sown in Japan as early as 538 when the king of Korea sent a mission to Japan, which included some Buddhist sutras. It was the Soga family in Japan who actively sought to spread the teachings, but their efforts were hindered by the powerful Mononobe family, who felt that the introduction of a foreign religion would offend the native gods. When the Soga family attained military and political dominance over the Mononobe family in the following century, the dissemination of Buddhism started in earnest.

It was Prince Shotoku, second son of the emperor Yomei, whose work in founding monasteries has made his name synonymous with the founding of Buddhism in Japan, although it was to be many years before the Zen Buddhist movement gathered any real momentum.

With the support of the ruling classes, and especially that of the Emperor Shomu, Buddhism flourished in the Nara period (710–794), with monasteries being established in all provinces.

During this time many ideas were being brought from mainland China, often through the Korean peninsula, but despite the free movement of ideas it was not until centuries after Bodhidharma’s arrival that the true core of his teachings found serious adherents in Japan. One of his disciples, Hui-neng (638–713), is considered a key figure in the history of Ch’an, as it was he who wrote the Platform Sutra that delineated all the main tenets of the Ch’an school. Many Chinese Ch’an masters came to Japan to propagate the Ch’an tradition, but they failed to capture a significant audience even though there was much interest in other Buddhist thought at the time.

It was not until the monks Eisai (1141–1215) and Dogen (1200–1253) returned from their pilgrimages to temples in China that Zen started to catch the imagination of the Japanese.

Eisai, who had become increasingly disillusioned with the lack of discipline and growing hypocrisy in his native temples, set sail for China to learn firsthand from the Ch’an masters. After various stays at Tendai monasteries during two separate journeys, Eisai eventually came back to Kyoto and advocated the Chinese style of Zen. This was not well received by the established monks, who had friends in high places, and Eisai was forced to travel to Kamakura, the site of the newly established shogunate, where he received a warm welcome and was made founding abbot of a new monastery called Kenninji. It was from here that he taught a mixture of Zen, Tendai, and esoteric Buddhism that was to become the start of the Rinzai sect.

Dogen founded the Soto sect of Zen Buddhism in 1227 after experiencing enlightenment in the Chinese monastery on Mount Tiantong in 1225. On returning to Japan, he managed to ruffle the feathers of the establishment monks at the Tendai center with his uncompromising approach to the teaching of Zen and hard-line avocation of the principles of zazen (seated meditation). Disapproving of the political tensions in the capital of Kyoto, he moved his headquarters to Echizen province, now Fukui, and established Daibutsuji which later became known as Eiheiji. This has since become the center for Soto Zen.

Although Dogen saw no difference between the various schools of Zen, there were others who classified them according to the methods of training. The Rinzai sect accepted the importance of zazen but also encouraged acolytes to exhaust their cognitive activities by concentrating on a koan— a seemingly irresolvable riddle with no logical answers. The idea was for the koan to help in exhausting the intellectual process so that a clearer view of reality would reveal itself.

SO WHAT IS ZEN?

Ch’an, or Zen, as it is more commonly known in the West, is the peculiarly Chinese way of achieving the Buddhist goal of breaking down all learned ideas of the world so as to see the world as it is—that is, with a mind free from attachments or judgments. This state is reached through rigorous mental effort, and the path is paved by the achievement of mushin (literally “no heart”), where one is freed from mundane attachments or desires. When an acolyte has succeeded in calming his thoughts and emotions, he is then ready to perceive the world without any preconceived notions. This is the prerequisite for the state of enlightenment known as satori—the goal to which all Buddhists aspire. Indeed, it is a state of mind that mystics, sages, and sorcerers have channeled great efforts to achieve. Zen differs from other schools of Buddhism in that it believes that this awareness does not come gradually, but as a flash of insight, so it puts no store in theorizing or trying to explain the unexplainable. It focuses all its energies on bringing about this monumental shift in awareness, the shift that will free the acolyte from the bonds of a world that is too real.

Because of this Zen monks have been renowned for their eccentric behavior and cryptic answers to questions. They believe that our reason is the greatest source of misunderstanding because it actually hinders a student’s deeper comprehension of the world that exists beyond words. Humans are slaves to words and the reason they produce.

Breaking the bonds of dualism has been an ever-present theme in many religions and philosophies. From the moment of birth, we are constantly given a dualistic view of the world from our parents, and this is reinforced by all those we come into contact with until it becomes so internalized that we forget that it was even learned. We are taught that we are separate from the outside world, and objects that are not part of our body are separate from us. Zen masters say that this is pure illusion and that we are in fact everything we perceive. In modern psychological terms, a child is said to become ego-centric when he has learned to distinguish himself from the world he perceives. It is just this learned idea that we are separate from our environment that Zen says we need to unlearn. By loosening the concept of self, or in Freudian terms the ego, the world takes on a new dimension where true art and creativity can begin.

A professor of philosophy may start his first lecture by talking about the realness of a chair and all the assumptions that have been made to arrive at the idea that the chair is a solid item, out there and real. This is something that most in the West would think a little crazy to even contemplate. Of course the chair is a solid Newtonian object that exists in its own right. To deny this would mean that our deterministic view of the world was wrong and that the ontological precepts that are so ingrained in our thoughts would have to be reassessed. Through education and devotion to science we have left behind the ideas that the world may hold a little more magic than we suspect. The following poem by Edgar Alan Poe encapsulates the slavish demands of a scientific worldview.

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!

Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.

Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,

Vulture, whose wings are dull realities

Zen would say that in adopting, too completely, the scientific view of reality we have closed the door on a more holistic view of life and are limiting ourselves to a rather mundane view of something altogether extraordinary. There is a little irony that the science that brought us the Newtonian view of the world has now found, through the study of atomic and astral physics, that in fact the world is far from Newtonian. A solid particle has yet to be found, and instead scientists are coming to the realization that matter as we know it may not actually exist but is rather a movement of energy. Time, space, and mass are all relative concepts, and the view that the world in real, solid, and out there has become untenable to the scientific community, too. Despite these discoveries there still seems a dogged determination to hold on to the old views of reality, which tend to provide a rather comfortable haven for the frail intellect that feels the need to hold on to its view of the world.

Zen maintains that our dualistic view of life means that whatever we perceive goes through our mental filtering systems before being cognitively understood. We use mental boxes for all aspects of our daily lives so we can make sense of our world and interact with others. With the development of language, though, this cognitive grasp of reality means that everything we perceive is subject to these mental processes, and so from early childhood we lose the ability to directly perceive the world. This is the point where dualism starts.

Nevertheless, in our more intuitive side, maybe we can still sense the lost world we had as infants, and it may well be this more intuitive feel that wabi sabi art helps to engender. It can put us back in touch with our nondualistic perception, where the need for words becomes obsolete and art can touch our innermost feelings. Starting from the Buddhist premise that newborn babies are in an enlightened state, it follows that their perceptions of the world would be radically different from those of an adult who has learned a completely new way of understanding reality. The emotions of childhood and the memories that are stored in the deepest recesses of the mind can be touched by truths we may be consciously unaware of, and it may be this unconscious affinity with things wabi sabi that trigger the emotional responses we feel toward them. The Zen monks, with their insights into reality, saw this link between art and the state of an enlightened infant, and have used art as a vehicle to rekindle these connections.

Returning then to the question of “What is Zen?” The answers given by Zen masters illustrate the illogical and nonintellectual nature of the question. Some of the more famous answers are:

“Zen”

“The clouds in the sky and the water in the jug”

“I do not understand”

“The silk fan gives me enough of a cooling breeze”

Zen was often studied in a semimonastic environment where austerity and intense meditation, combined with hard physical work, were fundamental tenets for the improvement of one’s spirit. Despite the sparse nature of the temples, they were great fountains for artistic endeavors, and much of the art was done by Zen monks. These endeavors were not limited to brush painting, but encompassed calligraphy, the martial arts, gardening, architecture, and even the drinking of tea.

The dedicated monks, in a spirit of quiet and resolute determination, sought to find artistic expression in all they did, and this art was then the fruit from their very focused minds. The renowned monk Hakuin had a favorite expression that meditation in the midst of activity was far better than meditation in stillness. For the Zen monks, everything they undertook became a spiritual task in which they had to immerse themselves totally, and in doing so they absorbed themselves in the activity rather than in their ego’s understanding of the activity.

Zen’s direct approach and its determination to avoid explanations gave it a more direct vision of nature rather than a verbal interpretation of it. In Zen philosophy the mind should be a window, rather than a mirror, so that the world is seen directly and not through the filters of the intellect.

The Zen view of the world, complex and alien as it is to the West, may be characterized by the following beliefs:

We are living under the illusion that the world is dualistic.

This illusion causes people to cling to the idea of themselves and the material world, which then leads to suffering.

Life is evanescent and fleeting, but overcoming the fear of death is vital for the fulfillment of life.

Through meditation and great effort, it is possible to break the chains of our perceptions and to realize the true nature of our reality. In so doing, it releases us from the suffering that comes from misunderstanding.

These ideas on life had a dominant effect on the development of art, not just in the temples but also in the societies of Japan and China, and the subject matter of Zen art is a physical manifestation of their beliefs. The paintings tended to be based on scenes from the rural environment, such as birds, trees, rocks, and mountains, and were presented merely as images that encapsulated their essence rather than exact interpretations of their nature. The work was usually done in moments of inspiration and often in broad and sweeping brush strokes, where the vision held by the artist was committed directly to paper with a minimum of deliberation or contemplation.

It focused more on the direct experience of perception rather than ideas relating to those experiences. These works, more often than not, had many elements that could be defined as wabi sabi, and perhaps one could define the four tenets of wabi sabi as follows:

Everything in the universe is in flux, coming from or returning to nothing.

Wabi sabi art is able to embody and suggest this essential truism of impermanence.

Experiencing wabi sabi expressions can engender a peaceful contemplation of the transience of all things.

By appreciating this transience a new and more holistic perspective can be brought to bear on our lives.

As Zen became more established throughout Japan during the Muromachi period (1333–1568), its influence on politicians and artists grew tenaciously, and the tenets of its philosophy, so closely bound to those of wabi sabi, found representation in the arts of painting, No drama, flower arranging, and of course the tea ceremony.

The political turmoil of the Muromachi period, whose upheaval was no doubt a considerable factor in the spawning of so many creative ideas, was followed by the Tokugawa shogunate (1603–1867). After Tokugawa Ieyasu had succeeded in bringing together all the separate warring factions under one ruling government, the complexion of life in Japan changed dramatically. The Christian influence, which had managed to gain an incredible following in just a few decades, was seen as a direct threat to life in feudal Japan, and so the shogunate decided to close Japan’s borders to all but the most minimal of foreign exchange. This policy was known as sakoku (literally “closed country”). Trade was limited to Nagasaki, and only the Dutch, Koreans, and Chinese were tolerated. Any attempts to preach Christian ideals were met with the death penalty. The Japanese had entered their most settled period and it was a time of consolidation of the arts and culture that had been forged during the more volatile Muromachi period.

It was within this sheltered environment that the government’s support of Buddhism, along with that given by the more affluent ruling classes, provided a fertile environment for the furtherance of spiritual learning. It was also a time of creativity for the Zen monks, who pioneered much of the art created during the Edo period (1603–1867).

However, the true spirit of Zen was very often compromised by the balance of power between those with the wealth and those providing the spiritual guidance. This was not at all dissimilar to the divisions between the church and the ruling classes in Europe during the same period. Yet despite this clash of interests between the different sects vying for political and economic favor, the religious and artistic focus still remained strong, and there was a maturation and refinement of earlier artistic ideas.

The foundations for wabi sabi art forms, like the tea ceremony and flower arranging, were laid in the Muromachi period by exponents such as Sen no Rikyu (1522–1591), and it was these early innovations that provided the artistic momentum for the ensuing centuries. As time passed, the arts that had been inspired mainly for the benefit of the ruling elite slowly found their way into the lives of the lower classes. In so doing, the ideals of Zen and its artistic companion, wabi sabi, found greater influence and support across a broad spectrum of Japanese society. After the passing of Sen no Rikyu, the baton was taken up by other cultural icons such as Hakuin (1686–1769) and Sengai (1751–1837), whose enlightened views of the world pervaded all aspects of their voluminous works and continued to stimulate the artistic movement in Japan—a movement that was becoming ripe for an overseas audience.

Japan eventually reopened her borders. And after more than 250 years of isolation, the world was quick to see the value and depth of Japan’s unique artistry, and it was not long before European impressionists like Monet were collecting large quantities of woodblock prints and other treasures of Japanese craftsmanship. But, because of the large gap that existed between the philosophical views of the world, the ideas behind wabi sabi were not as quickly seized upon, as were the more immediately impressive artworks such as the silk kimonos, elaborate screens, and swords. The West’s appreciation of things wabi sabi took more time to develop as a deeper understanding of its meaning and significance began to slowly seep into the Western consciousness.

Over the last century, in the advent of Japan’s intense integration with the West, there has been a vast sharing of ideas and philosophies, with the West being as stimulated by Zen as the Japanese have been influenced by the Western lifestyle. However, the changing aspirations of people in the modern world have taken their toll on the spirit of Zen, and especially in Japan, its relevance and ability to influence the lives of the Japanese has been steadily subsiding over the last few decades. Oddly, however, as the Japanese seem to be abandoning their religious heritage for the material hedonism preached by the West, there is a growing interest in the West for the spiritual values found in Zen. Ironically, the future survival of Zen and its artistic representative, wabi sabi, may well lie outside Japan, and it is the West’s growing disillusionment with the empty promises of materialism that may provide the necessary impetus for the widespread adoption of Zen’s wisdom. The West, who arguably started the undermining of Zen thought, may well hold the key to its future survival.