The centerpiece of this year’s exhibition was the well-known Kamuikotan stone named “Takachiho” from the Nyogakuan Collection.  Its history is elucidated in both the exhibition catalogue and the bilingual Japanese/English publication, Suiseki – An Art Created by Nature – The Nyogakuan Collection of Japanese Viewing Stones (2005). 

It is perhaps one of the most revered stones from Hokkaido in the Japanese suiseki world, and one of only a few with a demonstrable prewar history.  

Near the special entries on an off-set table of its own was the annual display by the Hosokawa bonseki school.  Every year since the third installment of this series, the head of the Hosokawa school has been invited as a special guest to create a display and share their art with the suiseki community.  This year, using a number of old bonseki that have been passed down within their tradition, they created the scene of a lakeside temple complex, named “The Temple Ishiyamadera off Lake Biwa”.  The sensitive placement of each stone and miniature bronze, and the delicate rendering of various designs in fine white sand was indeed a wonder to behold.

Of special interest was also a two-tiered display of historical stones, contrasting traditional Chinese and Japanese display styles.  On the upper tier, a well-published antique Chinese stone on a traditional wooden stand named “Mount Emei” after the famous mountain in Sichuan Province; on the lower tier a Kifune bonseki with a wonderful patina displayed on a silk mat named “Nunobiki” after a famous waterfall in Hyogo Prefecture.

The Japanese tradition, however, has most certainly not always presented such a clear picture.  Different teachings have long existed side-by-side, leaving enthusiasts to choose which practice they prefer, and while for some the issue is black and white, there is no denying a vast grey area in between.  Which is not to say that the distinction has been left vague in all cases, but rather that many Japanese collectors appreciate both natural and enhanced stones, and that the views one might hear on the subject vary from person to person in such a dramatic manner that it is impossible to say which is “right” or “wrong”. 

Being primarily a bonsai garden, that is what takes center stage; and being the cherry blossom season, well… you can guess what was in the first alcove of the indoor display area.  A young, weeping cherry tree, with the figure of an elderly man sitting below admiring the blossoms, all under the glow of a full moon.

Of greater interest to us, however, are the five suiseki that were on display.  An important point to note before considering the stones chosen for the inaugural exhibition, however, is the mission of the garden. 
What does it hope to achieve in such a place? 
Visitors to the exhibition received a short guide to the displays, with the following statement by Akiyoshi Sokushu, the abbot of the Daitokuji sub-temple Hoshun’in, within whose grounds the garden lays:

"On this occasion, on a plot within the grounds of the Daitokuji complex, we open the first bonsai garden in a Zen temple. Bonsai came from China in the ancient past, and through the varying aesthetic sensibilities of the people who cared for them over the years, they have become the very living form of the Buddha nature that resides in all aspects of the natural world. Fusing bonsai and Zen rock gardens in this historical temple, we created the garden with the hope that a great number of visitors will leisurely look at, discuss, and enjoy the “living Zen and philosophy” that is bonsai.

Suiseki developed over time as well, transforming from the bonseki favored in the Higashiyama culture of the Muromachi period, to the suiseki practice we have inherited today. They are simple stones lying in rivers and mountains, which convey the poetics of landscape beauty. Through the spirit of allusion, they allow people to enjoy boundless worlds in the palms of their hands, or placed in trays.

People, history, culture. Nature, plants, and stones. It is our sincere hope that standing still in this garden, you will all feel something special in your hearts."

Keido teaches that bonsai and suiseki should not compete with one another in tokonoma displays, and therefore must not be displayed together, but let us remember that bonsai and suiseki were being displayed together in this manner long before Katayama created Keido and its various principles and aesthetic philosophies.  In the mid-20th century suiseki experienced great growth in popularity as an independent pursuit, but before that time it was practiced by many as a companion art of bonsai, and displaying them together in this fashion was not at all uncommon in the past.

The important point is that they harmonize. Completely separating them is not the only way to ensure they do not compete. 

In this case, the stone is clearly taking on the role of a secondary element in the display, with the bonsai garnering the attention.  Figure stones of various shapes, including hut and boat stones, and small landscape stones such as this have long been used as suggestive accessories in bonsai display, and the practice continues in the bonsai world today.  The opposite pattern of using bonsai as secondary elements in suiseki display, however, is something one does not encounter in the mainstream.

For the second year in a row, and for only the second time in its history, the Meihinten was canceled once again this year. While the numbers were relatively low compared to many other countries around the world, the Covid-19 infection rate rose dramatically in cities around Japan in April and May 2021, forcing lockdown restrictions to be implemented around the country. When the Meihinten was scheduled to take place in mid June, Tokyo was still in a state of emergency, and being a national institution, the Meiji Shrine decided against hosting the exhibition. Particularly with the summer Olympics scheduled to open only one month later, the push to suppress the infection rate was stronger than ever.

Author's note.

The star of the show was an antique bonseki, never before seen in the suiseki world.  It belongs to the Kohoan temple in Kyoto, which is a sub-temple of the Zen sect Daitokuji complex. 

Though the exact date is unclear, it has reportedly been housed there, unmolested and in its current manner, since the late 18th or early 19th century, after Matsudaira Fumaiko (1751–1818) displayed it in one of the temple’s tokonoma during a tea ceremony.

While we are on the subject, readers of Japan Suiseki Exhibition catalogues will most likely have come across the word “bonsan” and wondered what on earth it meant. 

How is it different from “bonseki”?  Or “suiseki” for that matter? 

While this is not the place to launch into an in-depth analysis of the words’ historical usage, it can be said with certainty that for a time they were used interchangeably and meant the same thing.  Specifically, “bonseki” means “tray stone” (盆石), and “bonsan” means “tray mountain” (盆山).  And as the majority of bonseki were indeed mountain shaped, and for a time in history the two things were essentially one in the same. 

However, in the modern world of bonseki we also do occasionally see non-mountain stones, as witnessed in the previous Hosokawa school display that used pattern stones to give viewers a close up view of a field of flowers, offsetting the landscape in the distance.  We also see in bonseki that multiple stones can be used together in one display, and therein lays the difference.  The current definition and usage of the word “bonseki” is broad, and while it can refer to a single mountain-shaped stone displayed on its own, it can also include groupings of multiple stones that are not shaped like mountains. 

In contrast, in modern times “bonsan” only refers to mountain-shaped stones that are displayed on their own.  Most often, they are single peaked, and asymmetrically balanced, though of course those are not definitional requirements so much as they are prevalent tendencies.  In truth, the word “bonsan” is not used very often in this day and age, and if you looked hard enough you could most certainly find historical exceptions to the explanation offered above, but this is how people in the NSA use it today.

One was a tokonoma display of a Setagawa ishi in a suiban.  If it raised the eyebrows of some, it may have opened the eyes of others. 

A small Kamogawa waterpool stone also demonstrated that there is more than one way of doing things. (picture 7) The stone is named “Chinza fuketsu”, which is difficult to translate concisely, but means something along the lines of “enshrined cave from which cold wind blows”, suggesting a deep opening in the earth with untold mysteries in its depths.

Of course, the vast majority of displays were more in line with what you would expect to find in a Japanese suiseki exhibition.

This Kanayama ishi from Hokkaido was simply named “Cape”, and presents us with a dramatic seaside promontory.  Careful inspection reveals a tunnel passing through its center, and the fan-shaped painting of geese descending against a full moon identifies the season as autumn.  One can almost feel the cool breeze blowing over the ocean.

Another autumn scene presents a very different picture.  This well-known stone has been mistakenly published as an Ibigawa ishi in the past, when in fact it is a beni Kamogawa ishi, with an auburn coloration so deep it is almost unrecognizable.  The stone’s soft, dull patina is incredibly old, and suits the subdued tenor of the season established by the painting.  Use of the bright white suiban is certainly debatable, but surely the exhibitor had their reasons.

This well-known Mikura ishi from Shizuoka Prefecture shows beautifully on its thin daiza, and is one of the most recognized waterpool stones in Japan.  Its center is deeply eroded, and resembling a tsukubai (type of stone washbasin found in Japanese gardens), it is the type of stone that would appeal to practitioners of the tea ceremony.