Manshuin and Shisendo

Sukiya is a term used to describe an architectural style that developed alongside the wabi-cha, or rustic tea ceremony. As the name suggests, there is a recognized value in preserving the simplicity of the act. Thus, the wabi-cha attempted to get away from lavish, overt displays of wealth, arguing that tea drinking was better suited to the simple thatched roof hut, or soan.

In keeping with the ideas of the wabi-cha, the Sukiya style sought to use natural elements in a less restrictive overall plan. Rather than polishing the appearance of each individual member, there was an appreciation for natural imperfections. This is best defined through the aesthetic term wabi-sabi, the method of using simple materials in a refined manner.

This style is exemplified at Manshuin, where the wood comprising the architecture has been left unfinished, enabling one to see the gradual fade of its color. The neutrality of this expression results in a distinct contrast between the building and its lush, green surroundings. On the other hand, the rough quality of the architectural elements draws them closer to their origins, creating a unity between sheltered and open spaces.

The plain appearance of the raked gravel against the islands of greenery was a more direct contrast. I really appreciate the juxtaposition of these elements, as it enables each to be experienced in an isolated fashion, bringing out their truest qualities.

At Shisendo, one is allowed a more direct account of the garden space through the freedom of the open plan. Here, the viewing room consists of tatami that extend all the way to the veranda. No walls or partitions interrupt this space, leaving it entirely open to the crafted scene immediately beyond. The result is that one feels a greater sense of connectedness between indoor and outdoor environments, regardless of their position in the room.

Another quality that I really appreciate about Shisendo is the manner in which it masks its own complexity. Within the temple, there are two distinct spaces: a raised foreground where the building sits, and a lowered garden. These are actually hidden from each other, united only by the outlying vegetation that surrounds the site. The connection is there, but one is not able to understand the temple in its entirety until they have ventured through both areas. Gazing out over the veranda reveals a distinct separation between a raised foreground and a lowered, hidden background. Thus, one sees ground level in contrast to the branches of trees beyond, making them feel elevated. From the garden, the only visible trace of the architecture is the floating roof that projects above the layers of greenery.