We next asked Reina Ikeda, a graduate of Kyoto's University of Foreign Studies. But when we asked him to elucidate on the garden's meaning, he sighed, smiled, and said, "It's not something you can explain. We talked a little about how much work was involved in maintaining the gravel. Puzzled by these conflicting accounts, and driven by a Western obsession with rational explanations, we visited Saizoji, our local Zen temple in Hiroshima, which has its own splendid, raked gravel garden. DT Suzuki (1870-1966) – Japan's foremost Zen authority – maintained that Japanese gardens express the spirit of Zen. Still others reckon that they symbolise something far deeper, mystical even. Others claim they are 3D versions of traditional Chinese ink drawings of jagged mountain landscapes. We'd heard some say they represent islands floating in the ocean. Intrigued by the idea that a garden could be something that needs to be understood, rather than simply viewed for pleasure, we resolved to find out exactly what the sekitei are trying to tell us.
After reflection does intervene, you're left with the question – just what does it mean? Intuitively, you know you're in the presence of something profound and powerful, designed "to give the viewer that smack in the face that must happen before reflection intervenes," as painter Joan Miró said about art, according to the book Joan Miró: Painting and Anti-Painting (MoMA). The first time you visit a Zen garden, it's hard to avoid a sense of awe at the mesmerising sight of the immaculately raked gravel – in wavy lines, straight lines or concentric circles – broken only by a handful of rocks, perhaps a shrub or two or a clump of moss, but definitely no flowers. The Zen priest has traditionally turned to such classical arts as calligraphy, ikebana and rock placement." One must therefore discover ways to communicate this emotion to others. Japan's leading contemporary Zen garden designer, Masuno Shunmyo, an 18th-generation Zen priest, explains this connection between Zen and the arts: "Through Zen ascetic practice, an emotion of the mind is found that can't be directly exposed or understood.
All manner of activities, from sweeping the garden and chopping vegetables, to the tea ceremony, ikebana (flower arrangement), and landscape gardening are all considered practices of Zen discipline, aimed at focussing the mind and working toward spiritual awakening.
Zen isn't just sitting cross-legged and meditating (which is zazen, or seated meditation). But as Trevor Legget wrote in the book Introduction to Zen Training (Tuttle): "Many warriors were men of culture, poets and artists, with their work often illuminated by their Zen training." It may seem strange that fierce warriors should also be into tea and gardening. Some samurai also devoted themselves to the Zen-inspired arts of tea ceremony and landscape gardening, like Ueda Soko (1563-1650), who not only founded his own style of tea ceremony, still practised today, but also designed the fabulous Shukkeien Garden in Hiroshima. Zen was quickly embraced by the samurai, who identified with its emphasis on simplicity, self-discipline, and the importance of meditation to find one's true self, undistracted by ostentation and worldly possessions. But in the Kamakura Era, the balance of power shifted, and the samurai-warrior class rose to prominence. Lords and ladies of the Imperial Court would go boating there amid the sumptuous beauty. Previously, the gardens of the Heian Era (794-1185) were lavish recreations of Buddhist visions of paradise. Explorer and art historian Langdon Warner ( the inspiration for the Indiana Jones character) observed that Japanese gardens are designed "to express the highest truths of religion and philosophy precisely as other civilisations have made use of the arts of literature and philosophy". But there's more to the gardens than mere beauty. Rock and stones are vital elements in any Japanese garden, and the ultimate expression of the beauty of stones lies in the sekite i, or rock gardens, expanses of raked white gravel, dotted with strategically-placed stones. The ancient enigma that resonates today As 19th-Century writer Lafcadio Hearn wrote: "to comprehend the beauty of a Japanese garden, it is necessary to understand the beauty of stones." Yet in Japan, some of the most astonishing gardens consist of nothing but rocks and stones. For most gardeners, stones – along with slugs, blackfly and weeds – are a pest, something to be eradicated.
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