On the veneration of ancient tupperware
Yesterday, I had some free time and instead of doing any of the thousand productive things I should have done at home, hopped on the metro and went to the Freer-Sackler Gallery. Because culture is totally more important than clean floors and being able to find things. Actually, I think that might be true.
Right now, the Sackler Gallery has an exhibition on Chigusa, a 700-year-old tea jar. I first learned of Chigusa about two years ago, when the Smithsonian did a podcast on it. I always meant to listen to the podcast, but never did. I've found a good description of Chigusa, and it's better than I could offer. Also, the exhibition prohibits pictures, and that's one of the rules I actually follow pretty studiously. So you'd do well to check that article out if you want specifics about the tea jar.
Instead, I'm going to discuss my reaction to it.
To begin with, let me point out something irreverent, possibly offensive, and entirely true. From a practical standpoint, most href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Japanese_tea_ceremony_equipment>chadōgu (tea tools) could be replaced with modern equivalents that would likely do the job better, and for a fraction of the cost.
However, the value of these items is not simply in their practical aspect, but in the aesthetic and ritual aspects.
Aesthetically, I personally disfavor Chigusa. While much is made of its particular characteristics, in a general sense it's a very common design of jar that one may find the world over: perhaps half a meter tall, made of heavy glazed stoneware, bulbous at the top and tapering to a somewhat narrower foot (but that foot is quite wide enough for it to be stable on its own), with a series of lugs around the lip, for holding a lid or cover. Chigusa is of a relatively common type, that was made in China in the 13th and 14th centuries. It's a particularly heavy throw of stoneware, with an uneven, blistered iron glaze. I happen to like a more delicate look with lighter and cooler colors, and a bit more care in the glaze. However, that's quite subjective, and naturally my opinion is irrelevant when it comes to chado.
And yet, it's here that we hit what I consider a major disconnect between Chinese and Japanese culture. China has a rather utilitarian view of tea. Yes, it's an important aspect of the culture - but it's just, well, tea. Japan has, since tea's introduction to Japan about a millennium ago, treated tea and the appurtenances thereof as being deeply spiritual. As was once put to me by someone who was demonstrating the Chinese tea ceremony: "When the Japanese tea ceremony is over, you get a sense of oneness with the universe or something. With this, you get tea."*
You see, Chigusa was certainly made at a kiln in China. We don't know just which kiln - after all, it was produced as a shipping container. That is, it wasn't made as an objet d'art at all. I suspect that the potter who made it would have been as surprised to find it so treated, as a warehouse worker today would be shocked to find a shipping pallet on display in an art gallery.
But from these humble origins came something far greater. Or utterly ridiculous, depending on your point of view. A revered tea master, Torii Insetsu, acquired this jar and deemed it to be in some way ideal; he endowed it with a name and displayed it. From there, it came to be a revered item which was accorded great respect. Its owners did continue using it for its intended purpose, transporting tea, throughout the centuries. As time went on, history accumulated and increasing levels of reverence and ceremony came to surround this jar, but it seems that until very recently it was in fact still used for a practical purpose.
I was left with two observations, really.
First, I notice that import and ceremony seem to stick to the jar, and spread from it. The jar itself is considered to be a worthy object, of course. But that reverence seems to be infectious. It was transported in a box. That box came to be valued; an outer box was constructed to protect that box. And then a third box was made in the early 20th century, to protect the now-significant outer (now middle) box. This pattern holds true for all of the accessories - the cloth cover, an item which was surely at the time pretty close to disposable, is now subject to careful preservation. The cords for lifting the jar and holding the cover in place are now, too afforded respect and import. The documents kept with the jar, recording the provenance of the jar and various impressions of it, are on display - as are the envelopes in which they were kept! At this rate, it seems that the cabinets in which Chigusa and its accessories are on display will themselves be considered historically significant at some point.
Second, the in a way the aesthetic and ritual importance of Chigusa is perhaps irrelevant. These aspects are subjective, but regardless of your opinion of them, Chigusa is a piece that has seen the evolution of Chado almost from the beginning. Bear in mind that Chigusa was made at a time when Japan still imported much of its tea from China. And through that time, Chigusa has remained in use. I cannot imagine any object, no matter how mundane, that would not develop significance over the course of such a span.
* He then asked what you get with a British creme tea, which I was demonstrating. I told him that you get to conquer most of the world.
This entry was originally posted at http://hasufin.dreamwidth.org/15541.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Right now, the Sackler Gallery has an exhibition on Chigusa, a 700-year-old tea jar. I first learned of Chigusa about two years ago, when the Smithsonian did a podcast on it. I always meant to listen to the podcast, but never did. I've found a good description of Chigusa, and it's better than I could offer. Also, the exhibition prohibits pictures, and that's one of the rules I actually follow pretty studiously. So you'd do well to check that article out if you want specifics about the tea jar.
Instead, I'm going to discuss my reaction to it.
To begin with, let me point out something irreverent, possibly offensive, and entirely true. From a practical standpoint, most href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Japanese_tea_ceremony_equipment>chadōgu (tea tools) could be replaced with modern equivalents that would likely do the job better, and for a fraction of the cost.
However, the value of these items is not simply in their practical aspect, but in the aesthetic and ritual aspects.
Aesthetically, I personally disfavor Chigusa. While much is made of its particular characteristics, in a general sense it's a very common design of jar that one may find the world over: perhaps half a meter tall, made of heavy glazed stoneware, bulbous at the top and tapering to a somewhat narrower foot (but that foot is quite wide enough for it to be stable on its own), with a series of lugs around the lip, for holding a lid or cover. Chigusa is of a relatively common type, that was made in China in the 13th and 14th centuries. It's a particularly heavy throw of stoneware, with an uneven, blistered iron glaze. I happen to like a more delicate look with lighter and cooler colors, and a bit more care in the glaze. However, that's quite subjective, and naturally my opinion is irrelevant when it comes to chado.
And yet, it's here that we hit what I consider a major disconnect between Chinese and Japanese culture. China has a rather utilitarian view of tea. Yes, it's an important aspect of the culture - but it's just, well, tea. Japan has, since tea's introduction to Japan about a millennium ago, treated tea and the appurtenances thereof as being deeply spiritual. As was once put to me by someone who was demonstrating the Chinese tea ceremony: "When the Japanese tea ceremony is over, you get a sense of oneness with the universe or something. With this, you get tea."*
You see, Chigusa was certainly made at a kiln in China. We don't know just which kiln - after all, it was produced as a shipping container. That is, it wasn't made as an objet d'art at all. I suspect that the potter who made it would have been as surprised to find it so treated, as a warehouse worker today would be shocked to find a shipping pallet on display in an art gallery.
But from these humble origins came something far greater. Or utterly ridiculous, depending on your point of view. A revered tea master, Torii Insetsu, acquired this jar and deemed it to be in some way ideal; he endowed it with a name and displayed it. From there, it came to be a revered item which was accorded great respect. Its owners did continue using it for its intended purpose, transporting tea, throughout the centuries. As time went on, history accumulated and increasing levels of reverence and ceremony came to surround this jar, but it seems that until very recently it was in fact still used for a practical purpose.
I was left with two observations, really.
First, I notice that import and ceremony seem to stick to the jar, and spread from it. The jar itself is considered to be a worthy object, of course. But that reverence seems to be infectious. It was transported in a box. That box came to be valued; an outer box was constructed to protect that box. And then a third box was made in the early 20th century, to protect the now-significant outer (now middle) box. This pattern holds true for all of the accessories - the cloth cover, an item which was surely at the time pretty close to disposable, is now subject to careful preservation. The cords for lifting the jar and holding the cover in place are now, too afforded respect and import. The documents kept with the jar, recording the provenance of the jar and various impressions of it, are on display - as are the envelopes in which they were kept! At this rate, it seems that the cabinets in which Chigusa and its accessories are on display will themselves be considered historically significant at some point.
Second, the in a way the aesthetic and ritual importance of Chigusa is perhaps irrelevant. These aspects are subjective, but regardless of your opinion of them, Chigusa is a piece that has seen the evolution of Chado almost from the beginning. Bear in mind that Chigusa was made at a time when Japan still imported much of its tea from China. And through that time, Chigusa has remained in use. I cannot imagine any object, no matter how mundane, that would not develop significance over the course of such a span.
* He then asked what you get with a British creme tea, which I was demonstrating. I told him that you get to conquer most of the world.
This entry was originally posted at http://hasufin.dreamwidth.org/15541.html. Please comment there using OpenID.