JAPANESE GARDENS: LIVING WORKS OF ART
A Japanese garden is first and foremost a work of art. Its primary role is to help people feel and understand their relationship with Nature, and by doing so, connect with the divine. It’s a deeply held belief in Japan that the spiritual realm manifests itself in the natural world. People revere and aspire to live in harmony with it, yet, they also strive to tame it and impose order through gentle manipulation. The relationship, thus, is complex and full of contradictions. And so are Japanese gardens – complex and layered, even when on the surface they appear austere and simple.
Throughout centuries, several distinct styles emerged in Japanese gardening: starting with lush paradise gardens often found in secluded temples and monasteries of Esoteric Buddhism; through landscaped compositions of carefully trimmed trees, shrubs, and rocks that displayed a variety of textures and colors; to humble and intimate chaniwa, or tea gardens, whose main feature would be a narrow, meandering path, built of irregularly placed stones that led guests to a tea house. Perhaps most unique were highly abstract karesensui or Zen rock gardens, in which complex meanings were expressed with just a few rocks and gravel.
Despite a wide variety of styles and features, all Japanese gardens share some common characteristics. Arguably, most important is the quality of being enclosed, which underscores the idea that a garden constitutes a separate world. Whether a wall or a fence, the frame that surrounds it always signals to visitors that they are facing a fragment of nature that has been carved out from the universe. In the act, some limits have been put upon infinity, some pattern imposed upon the chaos. Japanese gardens might be created to celebrate nature, but not much in them remains truly natural. Instead, they feature nature crafted and controlled by men: condensed, abstracted, and contained within a limited space.
The presence of frame underscores the idea that Japanese garden is designed to be viewed like a painting – an abstract, three-dimensional composition, infused with hidden meanings and metaphors. Actually, many Japanese gardens are not meant to be entered. Instead, visitors are invited to sit on a verandah or in an adjacent temple building and contemplate a living scroll. Sketched with the fewest possible brush strokes, the design always leaves room for imagination. Viewers have to infuse it with their own understanding – engage both their intellect and emotions and complete the picture.
