Daitokuji, Kinkakuji, and Ryoanji

For the continuation of our garden studies, our class took a day trip through western Kyoto to see a series of Zen temples. The first of our visits was to Daitokuji, a large Buddhist temple in western Kyoto that’s is comprised of a series of garden subtemples, together providing one of the strongest examples of Zen in Japan.

The first subtemple that we visited was Oubai-in, where we encountered beautiful gardens, both lush and dry. The most impressive of these is the main garden, a large square that sits enclosed by the building, completely covered by a bed of moss. Contained within this space is an elaborate assortment of plants, trees, and boulders. It is beautiful.

The presentation of the architecture is no exception, as the entirety of the structure is composed of smooth woods coated in a polished, black veneer, offering nice, subtle reflections of the architectural and landscape elements. The quality of construction is extremely high, and the building is so well maintained that it feels brand new, making it difficult to find any imperfections.

I was thoroughly impressed with the level of care that goes into the maintenance of the temple grounds. During our visit, there were three workers sitting at various spots, weeding out bad pieces of moss with tweezers.

Daisen-in, the second subtemple we visited, houses a large, rectangular dry garden. Here, the pebbles are neatly raked into parallel lines, only to be interrupted by the ripples emanating from the mass of land beyond. Arrangements such as these instill distinct feelings of calm, as they are essentially frozen scenes that parallel the larger ideas of nature, drawing direct references to land and sea.

The final subtemple that we visited was Daisen-in, known for its vivid allegorical depictions of the Buddhist theology. The garden is arranged in such a manner that it delivers individual scenes through separate, enclosed gardens. These spaces are made to be experienced in order, delivering a progressive narrative. At the start of the tour, we were given a map and storyboard that provided explanations for each scene.

After exploring three of the subtemples at Daitoku-ji, our group headed over to Kinkaku-ji, a large strolling garden that is home to the Golden Pavilion. The garden is arranged in a manner that was intended to suggest a position between heaven and earth. This is immediately noted by the grand architectural piece, a pagoda covered in gold leaf, which extends partially over a large reflecting pond. Similar to the Zen temples, there are a number of islands and stones that emerge from the surface of the pond, drawing allusions to the Buddhist creation story. Because this setting remains undisturbed, there is a sense of stillness that pervades the site. The effect is at its highest when viewing the pavilion and surrounding greenery, and their corresponding reflections, over the calm waters.

The themes and ideas of the Zen Buddhist ideology are at their highest within the garden of Ryoan-ji. It is therefore considered by many to be the best example of the Japanese dry garden. This is due largely in part to the simplicity of the overall arrangement - a rectangle measuring ten by thirty meters that consists of raked white gravel and fifteen stones of varying size, some of which are surrounded by moss. The gravel is raked longitudinally, parallel to the dominant axis, with ripples flowing from the embedded stones. The effect is serene, and many consent that it exudes a mysterious and hypnotic effect upon those who gaze out from the veranda.

To our sheer disappointment, we were unable to experience the garden in its true form. Upon our arrival, we were confronted with the loud noise of jackhammers. The building was undergoing routine maintenance, and as a result, half of the garden lay covered by scaffolding. We were forced to sit on the dark porch of the imposing structure, attempting to capture some of essence of the garden.