The Story of Tea

by Mary Lou Heiss

  As no two Chanoyu experiences can ever be the same, this spirit of continued new beginnings imbues Chanoyu with the ability to remain fresh and timely yet authentic and deeply rooted in tradition. Since the time of Sen Rikyu, a phrase for the ephemeral notion of transient time came into use. Ichi-go ichi-e literally means “one time, one meeting” or “one time chance in a lifetime” and is a fitting description of the evanescent nature of each Chanoyu experience. Close to fifty different tools and tea-brewing implements are used during Chanoyu, compared with fewer than a dozen for the Chinese gong fu–style tea service. Many items owned by the tea master, such as the bamboo tea-measuring spoon and the lacquered tea caddy that contains the powdered tea, may very likely be priceless antiques, to be used and handled only by the tea master. Other pieces may be valued items that were given to a tea master by his or her teacher or family members.

  In Chanoyu the host begins by preparing the tearoom or “empty house,” an unadorned, plain space that is reserved for this purpose only. Wood, bamboo, rice paper shoji screens, and tatami mats are the simple architectural elements found inside of the tearoom. In fact, the interior of traditional Japanese teahouses is only as big as the dimensions of four a half tatami mats—nine by nine feet—and is meant to accommodate only five guests. The first teahouse in Japan to use this configuration of tatami mats was in the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa’s Ginkakuji (Temple of the Silver Pavilion) in Kyoto. This size restriction kept the experience intimate and closely connected for both the host and the guests.

  Some of the necessary accoutrements used for Chanoyu: chawan, chasen, chashaku, hishaku, and usuchaki.

  A richly gilded and decorated antique lacquer matcha caddy contains matcha for usucha, or thin tea.

  The host takes into account all aspects of sensation and perception that the guests might experience in the teahouse environment, such as wall decor, flower arrangement, lighting, seating, and aromas—all of which must underscore the season of the year and the time of day or night. In a special alcove devoted to art, called the tokonoma, the host hangs a scroll (kakemono) emblazoned with a phrase in calligraphy (or featuring a painting with calligraphy) that has been written by a Zen priest or tea master. This scroll reflects the mood of the season and theme of the evening.

  CHANOYU TERMS DEFINED

  Chagama: Cast-iron kettle for hot water.

  Chaire: Ceramic tea caddy for koicha (thick tea).

  Chasen: Bamboo whisk.

  Chashaku: Bamboo tea-measuring scoop.

  Chawan: Tea bowl.

  Hishaku: Bamboo ladle for drawing water.

  Mizusash: Cold water container.

  Shifuku: Silk pouch for chaire.

  Usuchaki: Lacquered tea caddy for usucha (thin tea).

  The Tokonoma and Chabana. A simple and natural arrangement of seasonal flowers and grasses is also placed in the tokonoma. Vases (hanaire) are chosen by season and by materials; for example, bamboo containers and baskets are used in summer, while bronze, porcelain, or unglazed pottery is selected in winter. Flower arrangements created for the tea ceremony are called chabana. Just a few flowers are chosen to best communicate thoughts of the momentary and fleeting nature of blossoms in nature, as well as the emotions in the host’s heart that best express his or her theme for the evening. Centuries ago in Japan, the art of formalized flower arranging began. Collectively called Ikebana, today there are many different Ikebana schools, such as Ikenobo, Sogetso, and Ohara, with branch schools located worldwide. Whereas Ikebana teaches disciplined art forms, chabana flower arranging strives to be simple, casual, and natural. Flowers are placed in the vase in an informal manner to emphasis the natural, unfussy expressiveness of flowers. Chabana arrangements are restrained and rely on the simple beauty of a few well-chosen stems, pieces of bamboo, and grasses.

  If asked

  the nature of Chanoyu

  Say it’s the sound

  of windblown pines

  in a painting.

  —SEN SOTAN

  It is important that the mood for Chanoyu is set as soon as guests arrive outside of the environs of the tearoom. To evoke a sense of progressively entering deeper into a new world, guests will pass through a series of thresholds that take them from the everyday world into the inner world of the tea garden and the teahouse beyond. If it is evening or early in the morning, guests will follow the glow from the warm, soft light cast from a stone lantern to find their way down a stepping-stone path, which leads them into the tea garden. At the garden entrance guests will begin to undergo the mental transformation from outside to inside, allowing the natural environment of the garden to cleanse them of the cares of the outside world. In cities, where the teahouse is located inside of a large building, the interior design of the surrounding space will be designed to allow for a representation of all of the above welcoming elements.

  ATTENDING CHANOYU IN JAPAN

  At the Eishunnji Temple we had the opportunity to attend a midmorning tea ceremony. The head priest explained the theme that he had selected for the tea ceremony that morning. As it was May, he had chosen the theme of “running water” and followed through with this idea in the sentiment expressed in the broad brushstrokes of the calligraphy he had hung in the tokonoma. He also placed a tall, white Shino vase in the tokonoma, which was decorated in a swirling red design and which held a single branch of cascading white flowers. The tea master began by serving us a typical Japanese sweet called a wagashi. This soft sweet was intricately made; it was shaped and decorated to look like a stream of water coursing its way down a riverbed.

  The priest explained the steps that the tea master executed as she prepared the tea. We noticed that the thin tea bowls she was using were embellished with a design that pertained to his theme—a little painted cricket on one bowl, bold slashes of color on another that resembled waves, a third had been given a solid blue glaze of the deepest color, and the last tea bowl was glazed in earth tones and decorated with light gray swirls.

  Roji: A path of dewy ground. Teahouses are traditionally found deep within a meticulously tended and artistically designed garden. One of the main elements of the tea garden is the sixteenth-century concept of roji—a path of dewy ground where moss gathers on stones and leaves are scattered as in the forest and where thoughtfully placed pines, nonflowering shrubs, pines, trees, and clumps of bamboo enfold and surround the guests with a feeling of calm. A stone water basin is filled with fresh water and is a place where guests may wash their hands in a gesture of ritual purification that eliminates “the dust of the world,” helping them to transcend from the mundane world to the pure serenity of the teahouse.

  A natural stone water basin (tsukubai) is essential in all Japanese tea gardens, and it also makes a charming design element in public and private garden spaces (Kyoto, Japan).

  Nijiriguchi: The crawling-in entrance. Guests may enter the teahouse through a standard door or through the nijiriguchi, the crawling-in entrance. This low-placed door is built into the side of the teahouse; it is raised up from the ground two to three feet. The idea behind the nijiriguchi is credited to tea master Sen Rikyu. In the past it was required that all guests crawl head first into the teahouse through this low door, a gesture of casting off their egos and becoming equal to each other in stature inside of the teahouse. In Samurai times sword racks were placed by the nijiriguchi to collect weapons while the owners entered the teahouse to participate in Chanoyu.

  Once inside the teahouse, both guests and the host kneel on ivory-colored rice straw tatami mats in the tearoom. Sometimes an elegantly presented kaiseki meal is served at the beginning of the tea. This meal consists of small portions of seasonal foods that are light, fresh, and visually enticing. The host selects and prepares the dishes for the kaiseki meal with an eye to presenting a pleasing selection of contrasting textures, tastes, and colors. Dishes, trays, and serving utensils are carefully chosen for visual interest and to offer variation in texture and materials. After the meal guests adjourn to the garde
n for ten to fifteen minutes, and when they return, the host will have replaced the scroll with flowers and the tea utensils will have been laid out, ready for use. When the host reenters the room, he or she will be dressed in a silk kimono and carrying the tea bowl.

  Now the guests leave all worldly thoughts behind as they watch the practiced and seamless movements of the tea master. They listen to the sounds of the heated water in the kettle, which is called matsukaze, or the “sound of wind in the pines,” as the tea master carefully cleanses the tea bowls. The only sounds heard during the tea preparation are these: the low tone of the lid being replaced on the cast-iron water kettle, the quiet sound of the water as it is gently poured from the bamboo ladle into the tea bowl, and the single, deliberate clink of the tea scoop on the ceramic tea bowl.

  Even though the dewy path

  is nothing more than

  a path away from the world’s bustle,

  it frees the heart

  from its impurity.

  —SEN RIKYU

  Each guest observes and appreciates in silence the wordless concentration and precision with which the tea master proceeds. He or she carefully measures the matcha into the tea bowl, then lifts a ladleful of water from the kettle with the bamboo hishaku. The water is carefully poured into the tea bowl and after soundlessly resting the hishaku against the water kettle, the tea master uses a bamboo whisk to froth the tea, using a gentle back-and-forth motion that is interspersed with vigorous whisking. Matcha that has been stone ground mixes differently with the water than matcha that has been ground by machine; the stone-ground powder seems to float in the water and maintains a presence in the bowl rather than completely dissolving into the water. Each tea school has its own preferred style of matcha powder, which is based on the school’s method for whisking the tea.

  A tea master dips a hishaku into hot water in preparation for making a bowl of matcha during a Japanese tea ceremony at the Eishunnji Temple (Kyoto, Japan).

  Koicha and usacha. In some tea ceremonies both thick and thin tea is made. In others just one or the other is offered. When both styles of tea are served, the first bowl is the thick tea (koicha). This bowl is placed on the mat, and the guest slides up to take the bowl. The guest holds the bowl in his left hand and takes a sip of the koicha. The guest then wipes the bowl from whence he sipped and passes the tea bowl to the next guest, who repeats the action and so on, until all of the guests have sipped the koicha. The tea bowl (along with the tea caddy, water container, and iron tea kettle) may be quite old and of great value, and time is taken for the guests to discuss the utensils and show their appreciation for them. The host may then prepare individual bowls of tea for each guest (usacha), which is thinner in consistency than the first bowl of koicha. Koicha is served in undecorated matcha bowls, and usacha is served in matcha bowls that have been selected for their seasonal designs and patterns that fit the theme of the tea. Usacha signals that the tea ceremony is ending and that the guests must prepare themselves to reenter the world outside of the tearoom.

  WAGASHI: ARTISTIC SWEETS

  When visiting Japan, spend time wandering through the food halls of the Takashimaya department store or any one of the Toraya confectionary shops to see a fascinating array of these small, artistic Japanese sweets known as wagashi. We become spellbound when we see a selection of wagashi, which to us is a distillation of everything that we find compelling about Japanese food and the art of presentation: perfection in shape; pleasing and amusing designs; exquisite use of color in soft tones, texture, and composition; attention to seasonal representation; and of course intriguing flavors, textures, and tastes.

  Wagashi began during Japan’s Nara period (710–784) and grew into a refined art in Kyoto during the Edo period (1600–1867). Today hundreds of variations of wagashi exist in a few main categories of style. The most common type is namagashi, a panoply of bean-filled confections that celebrate the seasons or holidays. Namagashi are made from glutinous rice flour, water, and sugar and are gloriously colored and shaped to represent seasonal flowers or fruits. Manju are steamed buns, and higashi are dry sweets that are molded into shapes of flowers and clouds that are a delicate counterpoint to the bitterness of Japanese tea. Monaka are crisp rice wafers that contain a sweet bean filling, and yokan are jellied confections. Wagashi are made primarily from glutinous rice flour, sweetened adzuki bean paste, kanten (vegetable-based gelatin made from seaweed), and super-fine wasambonto cane sugar. Their beauty and ability to delight and surprise children and adults alike relies on the dexterity and imagination of trained Japanese confectionary chefs.

  A tray of wagashi in an array of colors, shapes, and seasonal designs, in a Takashimaya department store (Tokyo, Japan).

  Wabi tea bowls. Many Chanoyu tea bowls are handmade and slightly oversized, and made from rough-textured stoneware that accentuates the bowl’s humble nature and its sensation in the hand. Or they can be very refined and thin-walled. Rough-textured stoneware tea bowls demonstrate the Japanese concept of beauty found in imperfect, simple, earthy things that have a weathered or worn appearance and an “accidental” beauty. This concept of Zen philosophy known as wabi became an essential part of Japanese tea culture under the tea master Takeno Jōō (1504–1555) and his student, tea master Sen Rikyu (1522–1591).

  Above the fir trees

  clouds expand,

  and above the flowers

  the mist hovers.

  They stand one before

  the other

  and compete in abundant

  magnificence.

  I say, both are foremost

  enjoyments of the world:

  wine as wine and tea

  as tea.

  —RANSHUKU RONSHU (1576)

  SENCHA TEA CEREMONY

  At first the sencha ceremony followed a loose structure, but devotees of the ceremony later codified the tea service into several presentations that use a prescribed nomenclature of accoutrements. Although this seems to contradict the original basis for the sencha ceremony, which was the lack of restriction and formal order, the ideals of veneration of the Chinese literati and their culture of tea drinking still remains. Several large schools of tea etiquette for sencha continue to this day in Japan, including the Issa-an School and the Kagetsuan School in Osaka, and the Ogawa School in Kyoto. Each school follows the general style with slightly differing rules surrounding temae (etiquette). The National Japanese Sencha Association, founded in 1956, attempts to serve the needs of the nearly one hundred sencha schools reported to exist. In 1970, the Japanese government raised sencha tea ceremony to an officially sanctioned elite art.

  A Japanese clay kyusu teapot.

  The sencha ceremony evolved into several styles of tea brewing. A monk named Baisao, who spent the latter part of his life as a tea merchant, began the sencha tradition in the early 1720s. He extolled the flavor of tea made with tea leaves rather than powdered tea. His praises of leaf tea drinking caught on with Japanese intellectuals and artists of that time who deeply admired the Chinese literati and the scholar-elites of the Ming dynasty (1368–1644).

  CHASENS: THE TEA WHISK

  At the Takayama Tea Whisk Productive Cooperative, in Nara prefecture, tea whisks are serious business. In fact, tea whisks have been made by hand here for five hundred years, since the middle of the Muromachi period (1333–1568). The cooperative makes 90 percent of all whisks in Japan, a must-have item for preparing powdered tea. Depending on the type of tea whisk, which differs according to the discipline taught at each tea school, the whisks can have from 60 to 180 light and feathery tines. Every whisk is cut manually from one joint of bamboo with a small knife. Skills are passed from one generation to the other; men perform the tasks of bamboo cutting while women cut the thin and delicate tines. The craft of whisk making has been designated as one of Japan’s traditional crafts.

  Accordingly, some of the tools of the tea equipage remained the same, while some utensils changed depending on the type of service. Baisao’s
traditional method of sencha preparation added the tea leaf to a teapot filled with simmering water, whereas the later practice of encha placed the tea leaves in the teapot first and then followed with hot water from the kettle. Leaving behind the whipped, powdered tea of the Song dynasty (960–1279), the Ming began to brew tea from loose leaves. The sencha tea tradition followed this thinking. While Baisao and the later practitioners of sencha sought to reject formality and embrace a more natural, social approach to tea drinking, Chanoyu remained firmly entrenched with the upper class and the warrior class, and was aligned with the Zen temples. Both tea practices flourished and found their own niche and followers. Today each of these approaches to “teaism” adds to the rich well of Japanese tea history. Each underlying philosophy espouses and follows a disciplined mind-set that continues to inspire and quench the collective thirst of Japan.

  CHA KAISEKI OR TEA KAISEKI

  This piece is written by Victoria Abbott Riccardi, author of Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto (Broadway, 2003).

  It is important to understand that there are two types of kaiseki—restaurant kaiseki and tea kaiseki. Restaurant kaiseki is available to the public and considered “party food.” It is multi-course tasting and concludes with dessert. Tea kaiseki is part of an extremely formal Japanese tea ceremony and consists of a ritualized series of small seasonal dishes served before the ceremonial tea.

  Kaiseki evolved in the Zen temples of Kyoto. Kai means “bosom pocket” and seki means “stone.” The monks used to place hot stones in the front pocket fold of their kimono to ward off hunger. Over time simple vegetarian dishes replaced the stones. As the monks began making tea for the imperial court, the dishes became more elaborate because the Emperor wanted more than miso soup and tofu before his whipped green tea. The meal that evolved is tea kaiseki, a light seasonal meal based on rice.