Galeazza Garden

Shisen-do Temple Garden, Kyoto

For Panda, champion Galeazza goat feeder. Thank you.

The silence of the rock and gravel garden of Ryoanji Temple, Kyoto. 

Kyoto’s most famous garden is one of the simplest yet paradoxically one of the most mysterious gardens in the world. Its history is unclear, but the latest word is that it was probably created on top of another garden that was in the same place after a fire in 1797. So much for the story that this is a masterpiece of Soami, a painter and gardener who died in 1525.

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitokuji, Kyoto

Kohrin-in Temple, Number 2

This temple was built arouind 1520 as the family temple of Saemonno-suke Hatakeyama, Lord of Noto Prefecture. The first priest here was one of the most famous of Daitokuji; Shohkei. This sub-temple is normally closed to the public, but I was lucky to get in during a special exhibition this autumn, and even more lucky that they allow photographs to be taken of the gardens, which are exquisite - so beautifully balanced, and virtually impossible to find in Japanese gardening books. What a treat!

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitokuji, Kyoto

Zuihou-in  Zen Temple, Number 3

Zuihou-in is open to the public, so if you ever come to Kyoto and go to Daitokuji Temple complex, you’ll be able to see this garden.  It’s a great gravel garden full of energy and beauty. Not the quietest composition, but really powerful. The rocks remind me of the coast of Maine - or the rocky coast of Japan, which is very similar in spots.

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitokuji, Kyoto

Ryogen-in Zen Temple, Number 4

Detail of the crane island rocks of the Isshidan garden

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitoku-ji, Kyoto

The Gardens of Ryogen-in Temple

I thought the “main garden” would be the largest karasansui (dry landscape) garden, located to the south of the Hojo, but they’re calling the smaller moss garden the main garden. This could be because the bigger gravel garden is in an old style, but is from the 1980’s, following the death of the former garden’s 700-year-old main tree. The “new” garden was commisioned by the current priest, Katsudo, in the Horai-san style, the central rock representing Mt. Horai, and the two rocks in the right corner making up the Crane island. The big moss mound with rocks in the white gravel represents the tortoise island in a white sand sea.

Do you need to know that the rocks and moss are symbols of  islands in the sea or that they represent a turtle, crane, or Mount Horai? No, not really. Does Chopin sound better if you can read the notes or play the piano? It might mean more, which is why I’d like to learn more about these gardens, but it isn’t really necessary to enjoy the view or meditate.

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitokuji, Kyoto

Oubai-in Zen Temple, Number 5

A snowy postcard image of the gravel courtyard of Oubai-in Zen Temple. This comes quite close to the straight lines of my half green, half raked sand garden at Galeazza. I’d love to have the moss they have here, but our Italian summers and dry climate would never allow such a  thing.

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitokuji, Kyoto

Oubai-in Zen Temple, Number 5

The “tsuboniwa” (small courtyard garden) of Oubai-in had me aching to take a photo for this blog, but a postcard is all I could take. Sorry.

PS I would love to give the photographer credit for this image, but I can’t read the Japanese on the front or back of the card. I’ll ask for help later and update it.

Seven Sub-Temples of Daitokuji, Kyoto

Oubai-in Zen Temple, Number 5

Swords are left outside the tea house, and guests crawl into the building through a tiny square hole in the wall. Here all classes and guests are supposedly equal, but this isn’t actually the case. In the photo we see the Waiting Pavillion of a tea garden. The most important guest gets to sit in the space where the stone is slightly higher or bigger or “special” in some way. The same “special” treatment continues inside the teahouse where the Tea Master sits in a designated space and the most important guest sits in front of the tokonoma, other guests sit in other spots, even behind walls with openings. The opening is there, but not there -  an imaginary division between the teamaster and “lower” guest. There’s no musical tatami mats being played here. It’s a religious, meditative experience from the time one steps under the outer gate. The architecture, garden path, and whole tea ceremony developed during the Muromachi (1333-1573) and Momoyama (1573-1600) periods.

Private walk between two houses in Kyoto.

Doesn’t really look like a photo from a city of over one million people - such perfect little green spaces like this - but then again, it’s Kyoto, so yes, expect hidden beauty all over the place! 

A Kyoto “stream” running alongside Horikawa-dori Street, just west of the Imperial Palace.

How much of this is done to protect from flood damage or erosion and how much is done just for love and passion of control and cleanliness is open to debate. Maybe it’s all the former, but I have my doubts! At any rate, even if it couldn’t be less natural, it could definitely be a lot uglier!

Daishinin, a Subtemple of Myoshin-ji Temple in Kyoto

A detail of the rock compositions in the dry landscape stream of this stunning little garden.