The Story of Tea

by Mary Lou Heiss

  THE ART OF CHANOYU

  In a line of succession from tea master to student, four Japanese tea masters—Murata Jukō, Takeno Jōō, Sen Rikyu, and Furuta Oribe—adapted, defined, and clarified the philosophical tenets of Chanoyu. In fifteenth century Kyoto the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa built a retirement villa called Ginkakuji (Temple of the Silver Pavilion) for his pleasure. Today Ginkakuji belongs to the Shōkōkuji school of the Rinsai school of Buddhism and is listed as a World Heritage Site of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization. Here, tea master Murata Jukō is said to have conducted private tea ceremonies for Ashikaga Yoshimasa in what is reported to be the oldest tearoom in Japan.

  Murata Jukō created this tearoom as an austere, humble place that replicated the idea of a simple hut in the woods, a place where one could blend the culture of tea with introspection and the spiritual ideals of Zen Buddhism. By creating this unity of tea and religion, which became known as the Way of Tea, Jukō was speaking out against the custom of the Japanese aristocracy to hold elaborate tea-drinking parties and tea-drinking contests as sheer decadent entertainment in elegant, well-appointed pavilions. As the first to link tea drinking with the philosophical ideals of Zen, Jukō advocated placing the tearoom in the separate environment of a quiet teahouse surrounded by nature, rather than locating it inside a villa, pavilion, or temple.

  This simple, rustic hut in the woods embodies the ideal space to appreciate the contemplative nature of tea drinking (Kyoto, Japan).

  Each of these men—Murata Jukō, Takeno Jōō, Sen Rikyu, and Furuta Oribe—contributed to the order and philosophy of Chanoyu. Murata Jukō developed the spiritual aspect of the tea ceremony and linked the Way of Tea to Zen ideals, and Takeno Jōō ushered in new thoughts about the spirit of tea drinking that involved the interplay of hosts and guests. He espoused ideas that tea should neither be drunk in isolation nor in tea-drinking contests. He believed that appreciation of tea’s spirit was established when host and guests quietly enjoy the moment with the right attitude of heart and spirit and preparation of mind. Takeno Jōō developed twelve precepts of conduct that one should follow to develop the right attitude (“straightforward, considerate, and not arrogant”) to enjoy the Way of Tea.

  The Japanese express ideals of religion, harmony, simplicity, attention to beauty, and appreciation of ephemeral moments in life through their deeply evolved culture of the Way of Tea, Chanoyu. Sen Rikyu, perhaps the most familiar name to those who study Chado, or the Way of Tea, shaped the principles of temae (etiquette) for Chanoyu: wa (harmony), kei (respect), sei (purity), and jaku (tranquility). When asked what one needed to do to follow the Way of Tea, Sen Rikyu replied that it was nothing more than boiling water and drinking it, for which he espoused observing seven rules:

  Make a satisfying bowl of tea.

  Lay the charcoal so that the water boils efficiently.

  Provide a sense of warmth in the winter and coolness in the summer.

  Arrange the flowers as though they were in the field.

  Be ready ahead of time.

  Be prepared in case it should rain.

  Act with utmost consideration toward your guests.

  On the surface these steps seem simple and such that anyone could carry them out well. When presented with this type of comment, Sen Rikyu would respond that he would become a disciple of the person who could observe all seven rules without fail. The point is that although the Way of Tea is fundamentally concerned with actions that are a part of everyday life, it takes great effort and practice to master their simplicity. Sen Rikyu believed that the still concentration exercised when whisking a bowl of tea was indeed a meditation and that through practicing the Way of Tea it was possible to reach enlightenment. To this end, he espoused wabi concepts of rustic simplicity and deliberate austerity; he disdained artificiality in the practice of tea. For Sen Rikyu, the culture of tea stressed the values of simplicity, self-control, and restraint, and embodied a moral, an ethic, and eventually an aesthetic meaning.

  After the death of Sen Rikyu, one of his students, tea master Furuta Oribe, became the second tea master to military leader Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Furuta Oribe introduced a feeling of modernism in ceramics and encouraged the use of cream, green, and black glazes, unique shapes, and spontaneous, contrasting designs. This pottery is thus known as Oribe, and beautiful examples of these wares are still being made today in Aichi prefecture. His influence and the exuberant spirit of his pottery ushered in a collaboration of expression among Japanese painters and other artists in the decorative arts in the sixteenth century that was never before witnessed in the history of Japanese art. He also further refined the design and make-up of tea gardens by contributing ideas for additions and changes to layout and composition as well as the placement of materials. (See an example of a contemporary Oribe teapot.)

  In late-sixteenth-century Japan tastes in ceramics began to change. Japanese tastes for Chinese-style wares was diminishing, and both Korean ceramics influences and Japanese styles were becoming the new favorites. Sen Rikyu was disdainful of excess in form or design and believed in Zen concepts of unadorned elegance. He taught Chanoyu participants that humble, less than perfectly shaped bowls would serve to focus attention on the tea first and the bowl second. Until this time most tea bowls or chawan (not to be confused with meshi chawan, which are used for rice) made in Japan came from Seto kilns and were based on smooth, even-shaped, dark brown, and black-brown glazed Chinese tenmoku tea bowls.

  FROM TENMOKU TO RAKU: THE EVOLUTION OF JAPANESE TEA BOWLS

  Sen Rikyu found the regularity and smoothness of tenmoku bowls to be unfavorable to the touch. Instead, he preferred the simplicity and honest style of rough-textured, slightly thick, and uneven stoneware rice bowls that were made by Korean potters living in Japan. Looking to incorporate the shape of Chinese tea bowls with the sensibility of the Korean style and feel, Sen Rikyu found his ideal cup in the unglazed, low-fired, and hand-built Raku pottery of a Korean potter named Chōjirō.

  These ceramics suited Sen Rikyu’s belief in the greatness of small things and in the equal importance of the mundane as well as the sublime. Chōjirō had been given the family name Raku by the warrior statesman and military leader Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who also honored Chōjirō by appointing him as one of the elite craftsmen chosen to make pottery for use in Chanoyu. Today Raku ware is still made by Raku Kichizaemon, the fifteenth generation and current head of the Raku family. His tea bowls can be purchased in Kyoto (although they are quite expensive and the wait is long). Visitors to the Raku Museum can appreciate a display of historic tea bowls made by successive members of the Raku family. Many of the famous, historic tea bowls in Japan—such as Chôjirô’s Omokage, Miwa, and Tarobo—are named, and some have significant cultural greatness that they are considered Important Cultural Property.

  As a result of Japanese-Korean conflicts, scores of Korean potters were relocated to Karatsu on the island of Kyushu in the late sixteenth century. A major pottery center was ultimately established on the island. Today the tradition of crafting hand-thrown pottery fired in traditional wood-burning kilns continues in the studios of pottery artists living throughout Kyushu.

  This sophisticated Tokoname kyusu-style teapot, accentuated with a faceted honeycomb design, fits the expectation of Japanese elegance in spare design.

  As interest in Chanoyu spread into Japan in the seventeenth century, the need for rustic, simply glazed teawares in natural styles as well as a battery of tea utensils to use with Chanoyu arose. Many potters switched from making utilitarian wares to developing teawares that fulfilled this new Japanese aesthetic. Kilns in Seto (in Aichi prefecture) and old Mino Province (in Gifu prefecture) were kept busy from the demands of tea drinkers for appropriate tea bowls. Seto is home to scores of kilns that developed many of the famous Mino styles of Japanese pottery—white-glazed Shino, red-glazed Shino, black Setoguro, yellow Kiseto, and the spontaneous brushwork designs of Furuta Oribe.

  Today
these pottery-producing areas are collectively known as the Six Old Kilns of Japan. They are Bizen, Echizen, Seto, Shigaraki/Iga, Tamba, and Tokoname. Many of these kilns are still in operation today and are thriving; in the old atmospheric ceramics town Tokoname, for example, walking tours have been designed to let visitors enjoy both the centuries-old kilns and the more modern ceramics factories.

  THE SENCHA TEA CEREMONY

  During Japan’s Edo period (1600–1867) a simpler style of tea drinking came into popularity. Many Japanese intellectuals were looking to break away from the formal nature of the Chanoyu powdered tea ceremony. They wanted to drink tea in an unaffected, less restrictive, and conventional way. During this time, it became fashionable among Japanese philosophers and artists to emulate the refined method of classical tea drinking developed by Chinese scholars and the elite literati of the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). They were drawn to the simplicity of the Chinese method of steeping loose-leaf tea, and sought to emulate Ming scholar-recluses who led spiritually enlightened lives. By aligning themselves with the Ming literati through tea drinking, these Japanese intellectuals created a new way to drink tea in Japan, which first became known as the sencha tea ceremony and later as the sencha tea service or simply as sencha.

  A small black plate adds color contrast to the pleasing harmony created by the white glaze of this kyusu teapot and teacup. Japanese notions of desirable contrasts are often achieved by pairing teawares of opposing colors, glazes, and textures.

  For the sencha tea ceremony, small teapots with loop handles attached to the sides were used. These teapots were styled after the Yixing teapots favored by the Chinese Ming literati. Japan took a step away from Chinese customs, however, and drank the tea not in tea bowls but from small, short cylinder-shaped or round yunomi chawan teacups. With these simple changes the sencha tea ceremony ushered in a new style of tea brewing that was the precursor of modern tea drinking. The word sencha thus came to mean the practice of preparing and drinking Japanese leaf tea that was imbued with an appreciation of Chinese art, culture, and philosophy. Today the term sencha refers both to a specific manufacture of Japanese green tea and to the style of brewing green teas such as sencha and gyokuro. In Japan, it is not uncommon to be asked to join someone in “drinking sencha,” a phrase that means, “Let’s have some tea together.”

  Teapots for sencha were designed with the size of small Chinese teapots in mind, but they were made of porcelain and often painted with fanciful Japanese-inspired motifs. In nineteenth-century Japan potters began making small clay teapots with an easy-to-grasp single handle that projected straight out from the side of the teapot. Known as a kyusu teapot, this style of teapot is still popular today, and can be found in both handmade and production versions. Most production-made kyusu are fit with a stainless-steel mesh strainer that lines the inside of the teapot and is designed to keep fine, thin bits of tea leaf out of the cup. The best kyusu teapots are handmade and have a fine clay strainer fashioned into the teapot spout. Very small and delicate kyusu teapots or handle-less teapots called houbin are especially made and perfectly suited for brewing tiny amounts of sweet and expensive gyokuro tea.

  This small, palm-sized, unglazed teapot is called a houbin. It is perfectly suited to brewing and dosing out small sips of sweet sencha or gyokuro green tea.

  JAPANESE CERAMICS FOR THE EXPORT MARKET: THEN AND NOW

  After World War II Japanese export wares were mass-produced and quickly painted with simple one-dimensional designs. These images were supposed to convey an idealized sense of Japan to foreigners in the overseas markets. Fortunately, those times are over, and today’s ceramics respect the traditional ways and speak the universal language of quality and good design. Today, a seemingly unending array of colors, design, shapes, and patterns in pottery has emerged, underscoring the Japanese preference toward striking and bold or restful and contemplative tablewares featuring contrasting shapes, differing glaze colors, and opposing but harmonious materials.

  Japanese cooks observe strict ideas of seasonality regarding food. Pottery also enters the discourse of the meal; the pottery is not complete without the meal and vice versa. Japanese cooks thus use dishes and bowls in a stunning juxtaposition of shapes and sizes to create a mood or express a sensibility or to let the color, weight, feel, and designs of the dishes and serving pieces simply entertain the senses. Repetition in design breeds boredom, hence the desire to hold attention with teasingly diverse tablewares. Seasonality is also taken into account with tablewares, and these notions will be reflected in the choices made by the host or cook concerning color, heft and type of clay, and glaze. Pottery is a part of everyday Japanese life, a national obsession that leads to ambitious collections and an unending quest for the perfect piece.

  Over the course of a Japanese meal, for example, table settings might feature a selection of condiments, pickles, and delicately sized portions of fish or vegetables in small bowls and plates featuring appealing colors, thick molten glazes, and unique shapes. A beautiful wooden tray might hold a red and black lacquer lidded bowl, a square ceramic dish with a pebbled surface, and a boldly asymmetrical plate, each chosen to compliment another course of food. An anonymous Japanese satirical poet once commented on the boring sameness of Western taste in table settings: “Western food—every damn plate is round.”

  Chawan. No tea table is complete without a collection of Japanese dishes and teacups that reflect this mix-and-match heritage. Feel free to serve Japanese tea in handle-less cups but remember to reserve chawan tea bowls only for use in Chanoyu. Chawans must be generously wide to accommodate the rapid back-and-forth mixing action of the bamboo whisk and stand about three inches tall. The overall girth of a chawan made by a ceramic artist is hefty and a bit stocky; its size and weight commands respect and it is intended to be held in two hands, as if tenderly holding the soul of the artist. Chawans are squat and chunky, and can feature an uneven rim along the top and either a glazed or an unglazed foot on the bottom of the bowl, which keeps the bowl raised off the table. There are specific styles of chawans used for thin (usucha) tea and thick (koicha) tea and for seasonal tea ceremonies honoring the four seasons. There are also chawans used when recognizing more specific timeframes, such as moon viewing or cherry blossom viewing, or for celebrating the first tea ceremony of the year, Hatsu Gama. Chawans are made by many potters in the famous ceramics areas of Japan and teaware collectors seek out examples made in all of the various types of glazes and clays. Expensive chawans come packed in their own custom-made wooden box with the signature of the artist displayed on the box or under the lid.

  Chawans made by famous potters are sometimes passed down from teacher to student or purchased from a tea utensil store. In fine ceramics shops in Kyoto, we saw handmade pottery tea bowls that started at $250 and quickly escalated toward $1,000 per bowl, depending on the potter’s fame and skill. Antique bowls command even higher prices. Because of the value of the chawans in use at a tea ceremony, a Japanese tea master explained to us: “When we admire the bottom of the tea bowl after drinking the tea during Chanoyu we lean forward from a kneeling position and keep our elbows on our thighs or knees while we admire the tea bowl. This way, if the bowl falls, it only falls a few inches onto the cushioning tatami mat and will not suffer a break.”

  Yunomi chawan. Less expensive, commercially made Japanese teacups are used for all of the everyday types of Japanese tea. Our customers love these cups in all of their infinite variations and styles. Some teacups have glazes that are lighthearted and fun, while others are serious, flashy, austere, and at times wildly colorful. Some are short and wide and bowl-shaped, while others are tall and narrow. Despite having a short stature, these simple cups exude customer appeal. They beguile shoppers from the shelf and, without a lot of show or hype, simply beg to be picked up and held. Show your Japanese spirit and aesthetic sense and collect an unmatched set of teacups. When you serve tea to your friends, be sure to watch how much interest they show in the cups; it will be
up to you to extol the virtue and personality of each cup.

  A visually interesting and tactile collection of contemporary Japanese yunomi chawan ceramic teacups in assorted styles, materials, colors, shapes, and designs.

  CHANOYU: THE JAPANESE TEA CEREMONY

  Chanoyu began in Japan the fourteenth century, stemming from a style of powdered tea drinking that had been popularized by the Chinese during the Song dynasty. Initially, tea drinking was practiced by Zen priests, but the rise of a succession of tea masters beginning with Jukō (1422–1502) created the concept of an orderly and formalized tea ceremony. Today this tea practice and these principles are upheld by three main tea schools in Japan—Urasenke, Omotesenke, and Mushanoköjisenke. These schools were founded by descendants and disciples of early tea masters and have active branch schools in locations worldwide.

  Under tea master Jukō the harmonious practice of tea drinking brought together various members of society—powerful samurai warlords, artists, scholars, and religious philosophers alike. By the late sixteenth century, it began to influence Japanese life and culture, providing participants in Chanoyu with a sense of peace, well-being and harmony, oneness and unity, and attention to the moment. Chanoyu is always mindful of Japanese aesthetic traditions and principles of Zen simplicity and restraint. Despite the rules of Chanoyu, the practice does not remain stagnant. By its nature every Chanoyu performed has a beginning and an ending and is a moment in time spent in reflection and concentration that cannot be exactly duplicated. Each principle of Chanoyu is expressed through the gestures and movements of the tea master, the objects chosen for the tea, and the environment created in the tearoom.