Philosopher's Path

Right around the peak of cherry blossom season, our class ventured down the Philosophers Path, a two-kilometer long walk that traverses through the northern part of Kyoto, linking together a series of Buddhist Temples. The walk itself is highly formalized, following the edge of a canal that is lined by a seemingly endless array of cherry blossoms. The blossoms from the trees were continually falling, taking on a characteristic similar to that of snow, their remnants steadily accumulating on the grounds below. This effect was heightened by the dense stream of pink petals flowing down the canal waters.

The first stop along our walk was Ginkaku-ji, the “Temple of the Silver Pavilion.” Contrary to what its name suggests, the pavilion is composed of modest, raw materials. The original plans, to cover the exterior in a layer of silver foil, were never realized. Thus, the building exemplifies unrefined beauty. Unfortunately for us, it was undergoing routine reconstruction.

The temple also houses an extended path that traverses partway through a mountain of dense forest, where the ground is almost entirely covered by a lush blanket of moss. The colors and natural formations of this setting were lovely.

The next stop in our walk was at Honen-in, a small temple that sits protected in a secluded forest in the hills. The atmosphere was entirely separate from the excitement of the path, as the use of unrefined elements created a distinct calm. This is best exemplified by the rough gated entry, and the pair of raked sand masses beyond.

Following this we explored Anraku-ji, a temple that is famous for its beautifully manicured gardens. It was the relationship between the architecture and the garden that really made the experience worthwhile. Covered walkways connect and enclose green spaces, and the interior environments open directly to the gardens beyond. Here, one is able to relax and take in the beauty of their surroundings at their own leisure. There is something very comforting about sitting in a room full of tatami and gazing out over a pristine garden landscape.

In temples such as these, it is customary and required that one remove their shoes before exploring any of the built spaces. This formality is necessary not only for the notion of sanctity that it implies, but also to ensure the preservation of the architectural materials. Here, the beautiful woods of the temple have maintained their integrity over years of use.

Another result of this custom is a closer relationship between the individual and the architecture. When exploring the main structure of the temple, one is able to experience the materials more directly, enabling a more personal account of their visit. I felt that this was a very powerful quality, and added a completely new dimension to the space. I distinctly remember feeling the soft grain of the wood under my feet when strolling along the covered walkway.

The final stop of the day, essentially at the end of the Philosopher’s Path, was the Eikan-do temple. Housed within is a beautiful interior garden and pond. The built spaces flow around the perimeter of a garden, with verandas that allow people to rest and admire the preserved scenery.

Satellite shrines are placed into the adjacent hillside, linked by covered walkways that curve and flow in a very elegant manner. This allows for moments of interest, creating a sense of progression between spaces.

Ujigami Byodo-in

The next study trip took place in the city of Uji. Upon our arrival, we encountered a picturesque waterway lined on one side by cherry blossoms in full bloom. The setting was calm, only to be interrupted by the occasional passage of Japanese tour boats traveling upstream.

At Ujigami, we saw what is considered to be the oldest Shinto shrine in existence. The aesthetic interest in these buildings lies within the beauty of their roof features, the majority of which consist of a dense layer of packed soil and a mossy cover. The roof of the hall of worship was especially graceful, as it presented gradual, draping curves with an added angular protrusion near the ends.

Following this, our class paid a visit to Byodo-in to see the Pheonix hall, a beautiful architectural piece whose formal expression is closely tied to the ideas inherent to Buddhist theology. The name is derived from the building’s likeness to a phoenix, with a grand rectangular volume that is flanked by two l-shaped wing corridors and a tail corridor. The effect of this association is heightened by the presence of a large reflecting pond that flows around the base of the structure. In this manner, the building gains a sense of lightness appropriate to that of a ground of worship.

Inside the main hall is a large statue of a meditating Buddha, carved completely out of Japanese Cypress and covered in gold leaf. Along the walls hang small wooden reliefs of celestials, each displaying an intricate, unique design. When staring at the walls, one is able to make out the faint trace of a mural that has faded away, a product of its own lengthy existence. In fact, the entire building has stood virtually untouched since its completion in 1053. I was fully impressed that an impermanent material such as wood can withstand so many years without losing its integrity.

Nijo Castle Night Tour

As part of the ongoing Hanami Festival, our class took a night tour of the grounds of Nijo Castle, witnessing a beautiful assortment of cherry blossoms. In this arrangement, each tree was illuminated from the bottom by an individual spotlight, leaving the surroundings enveloped in the darkness of the night.

The most memorable part of the tour occurred when walking through a dense thicket of trees. Here, the path was entirely covered by a canopy of blossoms, sheltering the people underneath from the dark void beyond. There was a certain sense of power to this stark contrast, and in many ways I felt protected.

Katsura Detached Palace

Amidst the excitement of the festival, we paid a visit to the Katsura Imperial Villa, a secluded strolling garden composed of an elaborate landscape and modest architectural pieces. Here, the focus is almost entirely on the beauty of the natural setting, where the elements have been carefully arranged to create a serene and picturesque environment. It becomes entirely clear when walking along the path that not a single piece of the garden has been overlooked.

In Japanese stroll gardens such as Katsura, the walking path plays a vital role in delivering the overall feeling of the space. Instead of simply observing the landscape, one is made to experience each part of it in succession. Thus, the sense of progression inherent to the villa is a product of a highly directed sequence, in which the individual traverses over a constantly changing assortment of bridges, bends, and hills. Every turn reveals something new, creating a profound sense of mystique and wonder. Because the garden reveals itself only in fragments, one is never able to quantify the space in its entirety. This is tied directly to the Japanese notion of an infinite, continuous space. Since there is no direct perception of beginning or end, the garden becomes vast and unlimited.

To ensure that the villa is experienced to the fullest, visits are coordinated so that only one group explores it at any given time. Thus, each vista provides an undisturbed view of the picturesque landscape. The stillness of space makes the garden feel similar to an ethereal, imagined state. As such, the garden is both a physical entity and a metaphor that exemplifies the relationship between land and sea.

Cherry Blossoms

During the first week of April, the cherry blossoms came into bloom, adding a great deal of color and excitement to the city of Kyoto. Their presence marked the beginning of the Hanami Festival, an important Japanese custom that serves to celebrate of the blooming of the trees. In a matter of days, the level of activity in the city multiplied. This became immediately evident from the throngs of people flowing through the avenues and parks. In recognition of the festivities, our group went to Maruyama Park, which is considered Kyoto’s most popular public park for cherry blossom viewing.

Suntory Museum

As part of an optional Saturday trip, I went along with a group of 7 other people to see the Suntory Museum, an impressive work by Tadao Ando. Although the weather was unfavorable, the overcast sky was an appropriate complement to the atmosphere of the building. This connection was first drawn in the main lobby, a space crafted almost entirely of neutral, polished concrete forms.

In addition to the main rectilinear volumes, the building is intersected by a more dominant gesture, an overturned, truncated cone. The structure and expression of this element is entirely separate from that of the others, and contains a dense network of stainless steel members. The vertical elements are expressed along the perimeter of the facade, producing a ribbing effect. The central part of the cone is lined entirely with glass panels, creating an outward focus toward Osaka Bay. This portion of the facade also serves to illuminate the perimeter of the interior, a transitory zone between the lower and upper floors.

The highlight of the museum was the outdoor space. Although serving more of a circulatory purpose, it is successful in bringing the context to life. Specifically, the building sits at the edge of an ocean waterfront, adjacent to a nearby pier. Thus, the outdoor spaces are made to frame views of these elements. On this day, the low rain blurred much of the visibility surrounding the area, causing the context to feel frozen. This effect was entirely appropriate to the architecture, and I’m glad that I got to experience it in this manner.

Nara

Our second study tour took place on the following Thursday in Nara, where we observed three monumental Buddhist temples: Kofukuji, Horyuji, and Todaiji. Each temple was unique in its own right, and it was interesting to be able to compare them in succession.

At Kofuji, we got to see Gojyo-no-to, the second tallest pagoda in Japan. The scale of the building is impressive, towering over everything else on site. The gesture is a powerful one, making the building feel as though it is effortlessly floating against the boundless skies beyond. This characteristic is made all the more clear when gazing upward from the base. It’s an awesome feeling being underneath a building of such staggering height and detail. Getting a closer look also enables the viewer to observe and appreciate the intricacies of the roof structure, which utilizes an elaborate system of wooden bracketing. One cannot help but wonder at the level craft and precision that goes into the creation of an architectural piece such as this.

At Horyuji, we saw what are believed to be the two oldest wooden buildings in the world, the pagoda and the Kondo of Sai-in. The complex that contained the two structures was peaceful, and was nicely accented by two cherry blossom trees in full bloom.

Our final destination for the day was Todaiji, a temple that is home to the largest wooden building in existence, the Great Buddha Hall. The size was larger than I could have possibly anticipated, and the sheer quantity of elements, both structural and ornamental, is astonishing. In addition, the building houses the world’s largest statue of Buddha, a bronze cast around fifty-feet tall.

Standing before all of these creations proved to be a surreal, otherworldly experience. It’s hard to grasp how something so large can be a product of manual labor. The scale left me feeling altogether a great deal smaller.