New Zen: the tea-ceremony room in modern Japanese architecture

By Michael Freeman

Eightbooks Ltd, 2007, 240 pages. Hardback, £35.00. ISBN 13: 978-0-9554322-0-0

Review by Suzanne Perrin

A specialist in Asian art and architecture, Michael Freeman is a London based photographer who has contributed several publications on

Japanese and Oriental themes. The text, design and photographs are all done by him for this book.

There has always been a western fascination with “Zen”, whether it be austere Buddhist practices, minimal gardens of rock and sand,

ferocious sword-play, or tranquil tea rituals. This latest offering to the Zen catalogue of associated topics deals with an exploration of

contemporary Japanese architecture, and how the constraints of a tea room, Chashitsu, are finding expression in contemporary Japan by

well established and up-coming designers.

The flyleaf states: “Since the 1990s Japanese architects and designers have been re-interpreting the Chashitsu [tea ceremony rooms]

creating modern meditative spaces .. …..featuring a vast array of materials including paper, wood, plastic, stone, aluminum, glass and

concrete.”

Freeman introduces the book as “a series of experiments, undertaken individually and with little in the way of publicity” for its designers and

architects. He calls the tea room “a very loaded space”, due to its six hundred year tradition of infusing art, culture, philosophy, ideology and

design all around the central act of making tea for a guest (or two).

The book first peruses the history of the tea ceremony, drawing on quotations from Sen no Rikyu, Kobori Enshu, Tenshin Okakura and

Lafcadio Hearn, all renowned writers on the way of tea and its basic concepts. An Introduction gives an overview of the evolution of the tea

ceremony serving to enlighten readers with the genre, and is illustrated with a plan view of a traditional tea room with a glossary of terms for

tea ceremony procedures. Ensuing section titles cover areas devoted to New Traditional, Modern Materials, Garden Settings, and

Contemporary Interpretations.

Freeman likens the appeal of the Chashitsu in modern day Japan as being “an inspiration” from older traditions of austerity and simplicity in

the face of 1980s “Bubble” economy excess and indulgence. Very relevant then, in the light of current financial crises across the globe.

It is with these ideas of re-interpreting the formula of Chashitsu as an oasis of calm reflection in a frenetic world, translated by contemporary

architects such as Arata Isozaki, Kengo Kuma, Kisho Kurokawa, Shigeru Uchida and many lesser known names working in the design field,

that draws together the threads of tea culture, Zen ethos and cutting edge design style.

CONTENTS
Introduction 7
Chapter 1 Arata Isozaki 26
 Kobo-an
Uji-an
Yoidorebune
Chochiku-kyo
Kenshu-an
Chapter 2 Tadao Ando
Tea House in Oyodo
Tea House for Soseikan
Paper Tea House
Tea House in Sakura Garden
Chapter 3 Terunobu Fujimori
Takasugi-an
Shin-ken
Tan-ken
Ichiya-tei
Ku-an
Chashitu Tetsu
Chapte 4
Kengo Kuma
PLASTIC HOUSE
Forest/Floor
Stone Museum
Washi tea room "seigaiha"
Hiroshi Hara
Yuki-an

The photography throughout is beautiful, with carefully chosen images showing the details of materials, surface textures, light, pattern and

space that all contribute to the harmony, respect and reverence for craftsmanship that goes with tea aesthetics. There is much to fascinate

here in the many and varied ways of constructing a tea room – or space.

In the section marked “Contemporary Interpretations,” one example offers a portable tea space called Sankio (In the Mountains), by Shigeru

Uchida from 2005, a light, cubic structure measuring 2.8 sq metres with a height of 2.3 m, made from an open lattice of black bamboo strips

woven into a mesh for walls, with a black wooden floor vestibule and thin woven mat flooring for the main space. This flexibility allows for

kakejiku (scrolls) to be hung anywhere along the lattice walls. The ro (hearth) is not sunken but placed in a wooden designed box in the

corner for portability. The visuals are stunning, both inside and out.

Other innovative places for tea areas (some challenge the meaning of the word ‘room’) include a Chashitsu located within a greenhouse

complex in Millennium City near Narita by Hiroshi Iguchi; the “Too High” (Takasugian) tea house perched on top of a truncated tree with

views of the Nagano hills in Chino by Terunobu Fujinori; the circular steel and glass rooftop tea space with fixtures more appropriate to a

bathroom than a tea room by Kunihiko Hayakawa; and an aluminium suitcase that unfolds into a portable, tent-like structure that creates

possibly the smallest tea space imaginable, by Toshihiko Suzuki.

Overall some thirty-seven examples are illustrated, but despite the variety of formats and excellent photographs, not enough information is

given on the materials and construction of these iconoclastic “tea spaces.” Even so, this is a ‘must have’ coffee table book for Japanese

design aficionados everywhere.

The Way of Tea is nought but this: first you boil water, then you make the tea and drink it. Sen no
Rikyu (1522-1591)
New Zen is a unique publication: a collection of the most innovative chashitsu, the traditional tea
ceremony rooms, designed by contemporary Japanese architects and designers. This tradition, dating
to the 15th century, subsequently became an integral part of elite Japanese culture, that of the
samurai in particular. Traditionally chashitsu consist of a few essential elements: a niche with flowers
and painted parchments (tokonoma), a fireplace set in the floor (ro), bamboo mats (tatami) and
several windows. Over the last fifteen years these spaces – unfurnished and used exclusively for
meditation – have been reinterpreted by famous Japanese architects who have created modern
versions.
The introduction recounts the history of the tea ceremony, explains the functions of the various
elements of the space where it is held and describes the ritual itself. The book follows an itinerary in
which more than 35 projects are considered: from a tree-house in the Nagano countryside to a black
lacquered transportable tea ceremony space. With more than 250 colour plates by celebrated
photographer Michael Freeman, this book throws new light on one of the most fascinating aspects of
contemporary Japanese culture.
Michael Freeman is an internationally famous photographer and writer whose specialities are travel,
architecture and Asian art. As photographer and author he has published many books including The
Modern Japanese Garden (Mitchell Beazley), Japan Modern (Mitchell Beazley), Savouring India (Time
Life Books), The Spirit of Asia: Journey to the Sacred Places of the East (Thames and Hudson) and
many others.
architcts: Amon Miyamoto + Tetsuo Goto, Michinobu Nonomura, Sotoji Nakamura + Yoshiro
Taniguchi, Michimasa Kawaguchi, Chitoshi Kihara + Yasujirou Aoki, Atsushi Kitagwara, Takao Fujiki,
Kengo Kuma, Fujiyo Takayama, Ken Architects + Takeshi Nagasaki, Arata Isozaki, Hiroshi Iguchi,
Shigeru Uchida, Hisanobu Tsujimura + Soushin Kimura, Ken Yokogawa, Masatoshi Takebe, Yoshiji
Takehara, Shunmyo Masuno, Hiroaki Kimura, Ks Architects, Kisho Kurokawa, Toshihiko Suzuki, Kengo
Kuma, Akira Watanabe, Kunihiko Hayakawa, Terunobu Fujimori, Shigeru Uchida...

Japanese tea ceremony Chashitsu

A few things all tearooms have in common is that the floor is covered withTatami mats. Usually there is an
alcove or Tokonoma in the room, but its size may vary.

There are different sizes of rooms which have names according to the number of Tatami mats in the room or
the layout of the Tatami mats. For example, a four-and-a-half Tatami mat room is called a Koma (small room)

There is no fixed layout, as to where the door has to be in relation to the host’s mat but the guests should be
seated next to or near the Tokonoma so the host’s mat cannot be in the same corner.

1 Sadouguchi ( 茶道口 ) (Host's Entrance) The

Sadouguchi is a full-sized door the host uses to
enter and exit the Chashitsu carrying utensils.
Commonly, a Taikobusuma sliding door is used.
The Taikobusuma is comprised of a lattice frame
with white paper affixed to both sides. There is no
knob or handle, and the door is simply pushed
open by hand.

Another sliding door is called a Fusuma. A Fusuma

is a standard sliding door in old Japanese houses.
Sliding doors have been used for hundreds of year
in Japan because of the advantages in room
design and feeling of space.

2 Tokobashira (床柱) ( Supporting pilar ) Much

care is put into crafting the Tokobashira
supporting pilar, for it is almost like the face of the
Tokonoma. High grade wood or that which conveys an air of sober refinement (Wabi) is used. Red pine is
sometimes used as Tokobashira and the bark could be left on. The pilar located on the opposite side from the
Tokobashira is called an Aitebashira or partner pilar.

3 Otoshigake (落としがけ)( Tokonoma Lintel ) The Otoshigake is the lintel that supports the partial short wall
in front of the Tokonoma alcove. It is commonly made of red ceddar, red pine, or Paulownia wood. A nail or
hook is hammered on the surface of the center of an Otoshigake, and sometimes the back, and a small hanging
vase with Chabana can be hung from it.

4 Kakejiku (掛軸)( Hanging scroll ) In these scrolls, calligraphy or painting are usually mounted. Calligraphy
includes such as Waka poetry, letters and Zen phrases written by monks, while paintings are about landscape
scenery, flowers, birds and so on. Vintage brocades used for the frame shouldn't be missed. Guests can see the
point of the day's tea ceremony. On this hanging scroll is a prase describing the summer season.

5 Tokogamachi ( Tokonoma bottom beam )

6 Temaeza ( Tea master's tea mat ) This Tatami mat is only used by Teishu to prepare tea and re-light the
charcoal fire. Kyaku may sit on all other Tatami as will be instructed by Teishu. A Temaeza is just the same as
other Tatami in the room. However, sometimes Temaeza can be a little shorter when a screen or short wall is
present, depending on the size and style of the Chashitsu.

Nijiriguchi (にじり口) (small crawl through opening) : A Chashitsu should have a Nijiriguchi in the outer wall
for the guests to enter through. When entering the Chashitsu through a Nijiriguchi, Shoes or sandals should be
removed. A Nijiriguchi is so small that one has to crawl in on all-fours, placing hands clinched into relaxed fists
on the Tatami first, one slides in on the knees little by little. depending on the size of the room and the place
one is supposed to be seated, one should either continue sliding toward that location or otherwise walk there.
The last person should close the sliding door of the Nijiriguchi. Usually when attending a Chaji, everyone will
first Haiken the Tokonoma, Chabana, and Kama (in this order), before sitting down. Incase of a Chakai where
many people will enter the room, only the Shokyaku will Haiken and the other guests will pass Haiken to save
time.
Tokonoma() (Alcove) : An alcove in the tea room where the hanging scroll (Kakejiku) is hung and flowers
(Chabana) are displayed. A Tokonoma is considered the most important place in the room and thus the chief
guest or Shokyaku will be seated nearest to the Tokonoma.

Variations of a Chashitsu

Nijo Chashitsu a two mat room with fire pit build into Temaeza mat and a 3-inch
(7.5 cm) board behind it.

Naga-yojo ChashitsuRectangular four-mat Chashitstu with fire pit between Teishu and guests.

Nijo-Daime ChashitsuDaime-style
Chashitsu with two guest mats plus a shorter mat for Teishu. Fire pit is
between Teishu and guests.
Hira-Sanjo Chashitsu Three mat Chashitsu with fire pit between Teishu and guests.

Yojohan Chashitsu Four-and-a-half- mat

room.

Ichijo-Daime Chashitsu Daime-style with one guest mat and a short mat for Teishu. Fire pit is build into
Teishu's mat.

Fuka-Sanjo Chashitsu Three-mat Chashitsu with fire pit build into

Teishu's mat on the wall side with a 45cm board.

Old-style Naga-yojo Chashitsu Old style rectangular four-mat-room with a

fire pit between Teishu and guests, but witha 15cm board.
 History of the Japanese Tea Ceremony
Drinking of green tea was known in China from the fourth century. Tea plants didn’t grow in Japan until the first
seeds were brought from China during the Tang dynasty (China 618-907), when relations and cultural
exchanges between the two countries reached a peak.

In the eighth century the first mention of a formal ceremony involving the drinking of tea is found. However, at
this time it probably didn’t look much like the tea ceremony we know these days. Also, during the eighth
century a Chinese Buddhist priest wrote a book on the proper method of preparing tea. The book was called
“Cha Ching” and taught the correct temperature of hot water and the use of tea vessels. It
is said that today’s style of the tea ceremony evolved largely through the influence of this
book.

During the Nara period (Japan 710-794) tea plants were grown in Japan and mainly
consumed by priests and noblemen as medicine. Toward the end of the Tang dynasty in
China, the drinking of tea was going through a transformation from medicine to beverage,
but due to deteriorating relations between the two countries this transformation did not
reach Japan till much later. The Japanese were forced to mold and cultivate their own
traditions and culture around the tea. Tea was a rare and valuable commodity from the
Nara period to the Heian period (794-1192) so rules and formalities were based on this
concept. Had tea been native to Japan or more readily available, it is almost certain that
the tea ceremony would not have been created.

Kamakura period in Japan.

In 1187 Myoan Eisai, a Japanese priest, traveled to China to study philosophy and religion.
When he came back, he became the founder of Zen Buddhism and build the first temple of
the Rinzai sect. It is said that he was the first one to cultivate tea for religious purposes,
unlike others before him who grew tea for medicinal use only. He was also the first to
suggest and teach the grinding of tea leaves before adding hot water. A Sung emperor
named Hui Tsung, referred to a bamboo whisk used to whisk the tea after hot water was
poured over it in his book Ta Kuan Cha Lun (A General View of Tea). These two methods
formed the basis for the tea ceremony as we know it today.

Some hostility was created among monks who didn’t like Eisai’s newly introduced religious
ideas which he had imported, but the Kamakura shogunate, who were among his first
converts, helped him succeed in enlisting protection. In 1211, Eisai was the first to write a
treatise on tea in Japan. In his treatise, Kissa Yojoki (Tea drinking is good for health) Eisai
suggested that the drinking of tea had certain health benefits and cures for; loss of appetite, paralysis, beriberi,
boils and sickness from tainted water. According to him it was a cure for all disorders, so this perhaps was the
main reason that the Tea Ceremony gained such popularity.

Tea in the thirteenth century and the Samurai

Tea started to spread outside of the Uji district where it had mainly been grown since the
beginning. But by now popularity and so demand was growing rapidly and called for
plantations all around Japan. The samurai class, who loved everything about the Sung
dynasty including the Tea ceremony, embraced it wholly and caused even greater popularity
of the ritual preparation of green tea.

In 1333, the Kamakura shogunate fell which led to civil wars in the whole country. A new
class of people came into existence, the Gekokujou (parvenus). These nobles whose
extravagant lifestyles attracted much attention from the public, often held tea parties for
their friends called Toucha. In this game the guests were tested on their abilities to
distinguish between Honcha (genuine tea) and other tea. Soon betting accompanied these
games and great valuable prices were presented to winners which added to the excitement of the game.

Originally the guests were given ten cups of tea, but this number increases to twenty, thirty and eventually one
hundred cups per person. If there was a great number of people attending the party, it would have been
 impossible to provide every guest with one hundred cups. Although followed procedures are unknown, the
guests probably passed cups from one the next. This technique of passing around tea bowl probably explains
why only one tea bowl is used during today’s Tea Ceremony.

However strange this habit of sharing might seem to us now, it probably has its roots in the Samurai class. The
Samurai had strong family ties, and when the family would gather on important occasions, it was custom for the
lord to take the first sip of Sake from a large cup and then pass it among his retainers as a reaffirmation of their
close bonds.

Tea ceremony during the Muromachi period

During the Muromachi period, Japanese architecture went trough a transformation from the formal palace style
adopted in the Heian period, to a simplified style used by the Samurai. The next transformation was from
Samurai style to the Shoin style which used elements of temple architecture. For the tea ceremony some of the
Shoin design details were adopted, such as the alcove (Tokonoma), the pair of shelves (Chigaidana) in the side
of the alcove, and the side-alcove desk (Tsuke-shoin). Of course Taami mats were used to cover the floor in the
Shoin style.

The Samurai nobles made it their hobby to perfect the way of decorating the alcove, the shelves in the side
alcove. The Shoin desk became fixed, with the aim of arranging a small number of utensils and articles in a way
that was aesthetically and functionally.

After some time, the Shoin was used to serve tea ceremonially by the Douboushuu. All the utensils used by
them came from China and were placed on a large utensil stand (Daisu).

Murata Shukou : The Founder of Chanoyu

When people of other classes became interested in the tea ceremony enjoyed by the Samurai class, they started
having small tea gatherings in smaller and less lavish rooms which were appropriate to their status. From this
the small room called Kakoi came into existence.

One of the best designers of smaller tearooms was a Zen priest called Murata Shukou. He later became known
as the father of the tea ceremony because the etiquette and spirit of tea were originated by him. At the age of
eleven he entered into priesthood at Shoumyou Temple until he was twenty. Ten years later he returned to
priesthood at Daitoku-ji Temple under the monk and teacher Ikkyuu Soujun to practice Zen meditation. Later he
was rewarded for his profound understanding of Zen and received a diploma signed by the Chinese monk
Yuanwu. After this, he spend the rest of his days in his tea room in Nara to perfect the tea ceremony, and give
lessons to anyone interested in learning the art. To all his students he tried very hard to instill the true spirit of
simple, Zen-inspired tea.

Another important procedure initiated by Shukou, was that he himself would serve the tea to his guests. He
preferred the intimate and personal atmosphere of a small room which could fit five to six people. The four-and-
a-half-mat room that he had devised to create a more tranquil atmosphere during the tea ceremony had its
origins in the Zen philosophy he had studied in Kyoto at Daitokuji Temple.

In a letter to his favorite pupil, Harima no Furuichi, Shukou outlined his own basic concept of the art of Chanoyu
and his personal philosophy of aesthetics. He wrote about the idea of refined simplicity, or Kakeru, and about
the importance of understanding the aesthetic qualities of sober-colored pottery from Bizen and Shigaraki. From
his letters it can also be learned that he took great pains to study the best method of combining Chinese and
Japanese tea utensils.

Toward the end of the Muromachi period, the tea culture reached its peak, and tea devotees were given
different titles to distinguish their relation to the art. Chanoyusha was the name given to a professional teacher
of the tea ceremony like Shukou. A Wabi-suki was a teacher distinguished by three particular qualities: faith in
the performance of tea, an ability to act with decorum befitting a proper master, and excellent practical skills.
Finally, the Meijin not only met all the qualities of a wabi-suki, but was a collector of fine Chinese tea utensils as
well.

The tea house is one of Japan’s most original and significant architectural
forms—a small, simple space for the tea ceremony that traditionally requires
a hearth, straw-mat flooring and a low entrance.
Modern Japanese architects have found the challenge of redefining this highly
formalized and constrained idiom almost impossible to resist. The
Contemporary Tea House features twenty works that reveal the way world-
renowned Japanese architects approach this intriguing subject using materials
as disparate as charcoal, plastic and titanium. The participating architects are
Arata Isozaki, Tadao Ando, Terunobu Fujimori, Hiroshi Hara and Kengo
Kuma.

Directed at both the general reader and the specialist, this visually stunning
book explores the works of these masters of modern architecture through
superb photographs and informative drawings. In his introduction Fujimori
gives a historical overview of the tea ceremony and the tea house that puts
the modern works in context. Isozaki, Ando and Fujimori, each wrote a
chapter that takes a behind-the-scenes look at their works and the creative
process. Hara and Kuma contributed captions and brief explanations of their
pieces as well.

THE CONTEMPORARY TEA HOUSE: JAPAN'S TOP ARCHITECTS REDEFINE A

TRADITION
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Pilling reviews THE CONTEMPORARY TEA HOUSE: JAPAN'S TOP ARCHITECTS REDEFINE A TRADITION by
Arata Isozaki, Tadao Ando, and Terunobu Fujimori.

TEA FOR THREE THE CONTEMPORARY TEA HOUSE: JAPAN`S TOP ARCHITECTS REDEFINE A TRADITION
By Arata Isozaki, Tadao Ando & Terunobu Fujimori. Tokyo: Kodansha. 2007. г22

There can be few building forms more laden with cultural significance than thejapanese Tea House. Indeed, the
authors of this publication assert that it is `the most important architectural form ... perhaps for all contemporary
architecture`. For the Western observer, however, the arcane practices of the `tea ceremony`, steeped in ritual and
historic continuity, may merely head a list of exotic cultural stereotypes that serve to confirm the Otherness` of Japan.
This, therefore, is an important publication.

Presented as essays written by the architects responsible, it selects 20 contemporary examples to demonstrate the
Tea House`s enduring importance. All are exquisite, some extraordinary - such as Terunobu Fujimori`s design
balanced 6m high on two tree trunks. The choice of materials is often daring and original - for instance, charcoal and
firewood vaulted ceilings - and their detailing exemplary. As might be expected from this publisher, each is lavishly
photographed, and the architects recount their design intention accompanied by selections of the original design
sketches. In all, this book conveys a very clear picture of these Tea Houses` physical form.

The challenge must be to place the Tea House in context, to move beyond the physical and discover the enduring
human values that these buildings are designed to satisfy. This has been attempted before, notably by Heinrich Engel
in The Japanese House, 1964. He fashioned a powerful thesis, arguing that the Tea House, and its adoption across a
wide spectrum of Japanese society, showed the essential humanising role of architecture to create an environment that
protects that defining human characteristic - self-reflection. A fierce polemicist, building on meticulous research, he
concluded that the absence of a comparable space within Western architectural tradition demonstrated that `while man
learned to master the art of building he forgot the art of living`.

In this publication one of the architects contributes an introductory essay but treads an uncertain path between
historical fact, procedural detail and cultural values. It accordingly lacks the clarity of argument necessary to
convincingly step outside the pragmatic and expose the enduring, universal human values that this architectural form
nurtures. This book is a valuable and sincere work, but to engage truly with the Tea House`s unique enduring value in
 modern society the reader may also need to look elsewhere. SIMON PILLING

Description
The tea house is one of Japan's most original and significant
architectural formsa small, simple space for the tea ceremony that
traditionally requires a hearth, straw-mat flooring and a low
entrance.Modern Japanese architects have found the challenge of
redefining this highly formalised and constrained idiom almost
impossible to resist. The Contemporary Tea House features20 works
that reveal the way world-renowned Japanese architects approach this
intriguing subject using materials as disparate as charcoal plastic and
titanium. The participating architects are Arata Isozaki, Tadao Ando,
Terunobu Fujimori, Hiroshi Hara and Kengo Kuma.In his introduction
Fujimori gives a historical overview of the tea ceremony and the tea
house that puts the modern works in context. Isozaki, Ando and Fujimori
then take a behind-the-scenes look at their works and the creative
process. Hara and Kuma contributed captions and brief explanations of
their pieces as well.A number of owners use their buildings as a stage for
the tea ceremony, while others enjoy them as spaces for meditation and
reflection. There are even some who have discovered their tea houses are
an optimal place to relax with a drink or a good book.Directed at both the
general reader and the specialist, this visually stunning book explores the
works of these masters of modern Japanese architecture through superb
photographs and informative drawings.

This addition to Kodansha's architectural series is likely to be of interest not only to students of
architecture and the Japanese way of tea but also to a wider readership. Arata Isozaki and Tadao Ando
are world famous architects. Terunobu Fujimori who is an architectural historian is a professor at the
University of Tokyo. Anyone interested in Japanese culture will be conscious of the role which traditional
tea houses and the cult of tea have played in the history of Japanese civilization, but probably few are
aware of the designs and building of tea houses by famous Japanese contemporary architects. The book
begins with a historical introduction by Professor Terunobu Fujimori on "The development of the tea
room and its meaning in architecture." He explains how the first tea houses developed from the tea
contests (tocha) in which samurai participants had to identify correctly the provenance of a particular
tea. He describes the first tea houses which were termed iori (hermitages) where men escaped from
the towns to the countryside for quiet contemplation. Their huts came to be about 3 metres square or
4.5 tatami (yojohan) in size. The first tea houses in the gardens of Japanese mansions were generally
of this size, although the only surviving tea room used by the famous tea master Sen no Rikyu in the
sixteenth century, the Tai-an in Kyoto, had only two tatami mats. Professor Fujimori goes on to outline
the development of the traditional Japanese tea house in the Meiji period as well as in the pre-war and
modern eras. He notes that Kingo Tatsuno, Japan's first modern architect, who studied with Josiah
Conder and is famous especially for the design of the Marunouchi Tokyo station building, did not regard
the tea room as "legitimate architecture." Even the great modern architect Kenzo Tange who died in
2005 never designed a tea house. Indeed he is reported as saying: "I don't do houses!"

The next generation of Japanese architects has recognized the important role of the tea house in
Japanese culture. The war years, according to Fujimori, "filled Isozaki's imagination with images of
destruction and a sense of loss" and "he came to regard irony and paradox as the essence of reality."
This led him in 1974 to build his first tea-room, the Kobo-an, in 1974. The tea-room was "the catalyst
which enabled him to move out from Tange's shadow." Ando's debut work was "Row-house Sumiyoshi,
a small urban, stand-alone residence which was completed in 1976." The first chapter, devoted to the
tea houses of Arata Isozaki, describes and illustrates some of his outstanding designs using
contemporary building materials. The Uji-an and the Yoidorebune are particularly impressive. The
second chapter by Tadao Ando is headed "The conflict between abstraction and representation." His
aim, he declares, is "to explore abstract concepts by expressing them through material phenomena."
Ando's tea houses include a "tent tea-house" and "paper teahouse." Chapter 3 is devoted to the tea
houses of Terunobu Fujimori. One of his designs is a tea house on stilts which some may find way-out.
Chapter 4 describes and illustrates tea houses by Kengo Kuma and Hiroshi Hara. Not all the modern tea
houses will appeal to traditionalists and some of the examples are not easy to appreciate. Nevertheless
this book should help to increase understanding of the approach of some of Japan’s famous and
outstanding architects to an important element in Japanese culture.

Japan
In Japan, there are two traditional types of tea house. Rooms where tea
ceremonies (cha-no-yu) are performed are known as chashitsu(茶室, literally "tea
room"). The ochaya (お茶屋 tea house) traditionally refers to a place of entertainment.

Chashitsu

Yugao-tei, Kanazawa
Ihōan at Kōdai-ji in Kyoto

There are two types of chashitsu: free-standing structures often containing several
rooms (known as tea houses in English), and rooms located within dwellings or other
buildings and set aside for tea ceremony (known in English as tea rooms).

Tea rooms are usually small, and are found inside tea houses as well as in private
homes, temples or shrines, schools, and other institutions. In Japanese homes, any
room with a tatami floor may be used as a tea room; but the same room may also be
used for other purposes.

The design of free-standing tea houses is heavily influenced by Zen philosophy. Tea
houses were first introduced in the Sengoku period, from the middle of the fifteenth
century to the beginning of the seventeenth century. They were built mostly by Zen
monks or by daimyo,samurai, and merchants who practiced the tea ceremony. They
sought simplicity and tranquility—central tenets of Zen philosophy.

A typical tea house is surrounded by a small garden in which there is a waiting area for
guests, as well as a roji (路地), or "dewy path" leading to the tea house. The tea house
itself is usually built of wood and bamboo, and the entrance is a small, square door
(the nijiri-guchi) which symbolically separates the small, simple, quiet inside from the
crowded, overwhelming outside world.
Small entrance nijiri-guchi of a tea house

Interior view of a traditional tea room

Tea houses usually consist of two rooms: one, the mizuya, where the host prepares
food and snacks and tea supplies are stored, and the other for the holding of the tea
ceremony itself. The main room is typically extremely small, often 4 1/2 tatami mats
(9 feet (2.7 m) by 9 feet (2.7 m)), and the ceilings are low. The first tea house built
according to this configuration was shogunAshikaga Yoshimasa's Ginkaku-ji (Temple of
the Silver Pavilion) in Kyoto. This small room kept the atmosphere intimate and the host
and guests closely connected throughout the ritual (Heiss and Heiss 2006).

There is no furniture, except for that which is required for the preparation of tea. There
will usually be a charcoal pit (炉, ro) in the center of the room for boiling water for tea.

Guests and hosts sit seiza style on the floor. There is usually little decoration. There will
be a tokonoma (scroll alcove) holding a scroll ofcalligraphy or brush painting, and
perhaps a small, simple, flower arrangement called a cha-bana (茶花). All materials
used are intentionally simple and rustic. All doors and windows are traditional
Japanese shōji, made of thin strips of balsa wood covered in a translucent Japanese
paper which allows light from outside to come into the room. The floor is built a few feet
above the ground in order to keep the room dry.

The acknowledgment of simplicity and plainness is a central motivation of the tea

house. A notable exception is the famous golden tearoom constructed at Osaka Castle
by Sen no Rikyu for Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a Sengoku period daimyo who unified Japan.
This tearoom had walls, ceiling, pillars, and even tea utensils of gold (Varley and Isao
1995).

The Kabuto Mon entrance to the Urasenke Konnichian in Kyoto

Tea houses were traditionally located in remote, quiet areas, but today are more likely
to be found in the gardens or grounds of larger houses, or in public or private parks.

Very large tea houses, such as those that can be found in parks or those maintained by
large tea schools, such as Urasenke, may have several tea rooms of different sizes; a
large, well-equipped mizuyaresembling a modern kitchen; a large waiting room for
guests; a welcoming area where guests are greeted and can remove and store their
shoes; separate toilets for men and women; a changing room; a storage room; and
possibly several anterooms. Such tea houses can accommodate dozens of guests and
several simultaneous tea ceremonies, and may have a total floor area exceeding 60
mats.

Ochaya
 The entrance of the Ichiriki Ochaya

In Japan a tea house (お茶屋, ochaya) can also refer to a place of entertainment
with geisha and are typically very exclusive establishments. Ochaya are mostly wooden,
traditional structures. Their windows have lattices (bengara goshi) on the ground floor
and reed screens (sudare) on the first floor to protect the privacy of their clients.

The origin of the modern ochaya dates back to 1712, when the Tokugawa Shogunate
gave licenses to the ochaya of Gion to provide geisha entertainment. Geisha, known for
their distinct make-up and attire, their elegant and graceful dance, and their demure
conversation, entertain their clients with song, dance, and poetry, also offering food,
drink, and conversation.

The Ichiriki Ochaya (translated Ichiriki Teahouse) is one of the most famous and historic
ochaya in Kyoto. It is over 300 years old, and has been a major centerpiece of Gion
since the beginning of the entertainment district. The Ichiriki has traditionally entertained
those of political and business power. It is an exclusive establishment, very costly, and
access is by invitation only.

The Evolution of the Japanese Tea House

 13:00 - 19 August, 2011

 by Allison Hyatt
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© Kenta Mabuchi

Tea ceremonies have evolved a great deal since they first got their start in the ninth century, and
as the ceremonies have grown and shifted in purpose, so have the tea houses that hold them.

Initially tea was seen as a medicine used to cultivate the mind, body and spirit; tea was seen as
good for monks because it helped them to stay awake for long periods of meditation. For this
reason, the military class sponsored the construction of large zen temples for monks to drink tea
in. As tea began to grow in popularity beyond the temple, tea ceremonies became a source of
entertainment for members of the upper class who could afford to gamble, read poetry and attend
tea parties in extravagant pavilions. More information after the break.

It was not until Shukō that modern ideas behind tea ceremonies began to take root. In an attempt
to escape from the material strains of daily life, Shukō removed tea parties from the formal
setting and instead held the ceremonies in simple grass-thatched huts, like the Tai-an Teahouse.
His goal in doing this was to transcend the complex distractions of the world and find
enlightenment in everyday life.

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© Tom Bennett
Today, Shukō’s ideas of simplicity in tea ceremonies remain. Instead of signifying the search for
enlightenment, however, the simplicity of modern teahouses is meant to emphasize the
importance of breaking down boundaries that exist among people, objects and ideas. Architects
strive to maintain the simplistic beauty of traditional tea houses, while also pushing modern
interpretations of what a tea house can be.

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© Yasuyuki Hirata
The Fuan Teahouse, by Kengo Kuma, for example, is made up of a helium balloon draped with
an ultra-light material called super organza. The fabric works with the pressure of the helium to
create a floating structure without the use of walls or pillars. This absence of crucial building
materials points to the simplicity of the structure and makes for the ultimate space of virtual
reality.
In their design for the Hat Tea House, located in the Czech Republic, A1Architects used aged,
natural materials to emphasize the traditional importance of connecting with nature. The circular
skylight at the top of the roof, folding walls and sliding screens not only provide a beautiful view
of the garden outside, but also allow for a more direct tie between the visitor and the natural
world.

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© A1Architects

Taking the idea of tea houses designed to mesh with their natural environment to a whole new
level,Terunobu Fujimori created the Takasugi-an, which translates to “a tea house too high.”
He built the compact teahouse to appear as though it was resting between two chestnut trees, and
although the only way to reach the tea house is via ladder, the view from the top gives visitors a
perfect view of Chino, Japan. Instead of displaying the picture scrolls of traditional tea houses
that indicated the time of year, Fujimori used the building’s windows to achieve the same effect
while also allowing visitors to observe the profound changes that were happening in the world
around them.

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 © Björn Lundquist

Although tea houses have come a long way since they first came into existence in the ninth
century, modern tea houses still have strong roots in the traditional purposes of tea ceremonies.
Tea house architects have to take into account how such structures have evolved over time and
how they can continue to be adapted to fit the always-changing needs of modern society.
Japanese Designers and Tea Houses

Kou-an by Tokujin Yoshioka | click to enlarg

The enigmatic Japanese designer Tokujin Yoshioka recently announced that he would be participating
in Glasstress 2011. Running in parallel with the 54th Venice Biennale, the event invites globally acclaimed
designers and architects to express their ideas through the medium of glass. Yoshioka will be presenting Kou-
An (光庵), a transparent tea house made from glass1.
What struck me as significant was not that Yoshioka, who has amassed a great deal of influence, was
presenting a tea house, but the continued succession of designers, both large and small, driven by either
commission or self-will, jumping at the opportunity to design a tea house. In a chain of events that eventually
broke the camel’s back, it begged the oh-so-obvious question, what is up with Japanese designers and tea
houses?

With low expectations of finding an answer I’d like to take a look at some tea houses designed over the past 10
years, while discussing the history of the tea house and its relationship with architecture.

The tea ceremony, or cha-no-yu, and the tea house share the relationship that art has with a museum. Although
they are certainly not mutually exclusive, in many settings the tea house plays an important role in heightening
the significance of the former. The tea ceremony originally began in the late Kamakura period (1185–1333)
and, for a couple hundred years, took on various roles ranging from the highly spiritual to the obscenely
vulgar.
It was a narcissistic and indulgent form of tea that produced a strong response from a few2. Small and secluded
huts began to appear in the outskirts of urban centers with a primary intent not of abandonment, but what we
would describe almost as a summer retreat. The ruinous huts offered an escape from the everyday bustle and
provided individuals with the means to seek out a different perspective. These iori, or hermitages, where the
first form of the tea house.

Shigeru Ban – Paper Tea House (2011)

Shigeru Ban’s Paper Tea House was part of a charity sale of Japanese art and design (sponsored by Phillips de
Pury & Company) in order to raise money for the refugees of the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami3. One of
Japan’s most well-known architects, Shigeru Ban has been designing paper tube structures since 1989 with a
portfolio that includes multiple refugee housing solutions for disaster zones in places such as Rwanda and
Turkey, a temporary office that sits on the roof of the Pompidou Centre in Paris and a paper concert hall in
L’aquila, ITALY. The Low-tech, adaptable and recyclable qualities of the structures are consistent with Ban’s
ethical and environmental footing.

Shigeru Ban’s Paper Tea House

Led by powerful lords who had gained control by being victorious in many small wars, the simplistic and
ruinous iori hut soon morphed into a symbol of wealth and power. Expensive karamono, or Chinese ceramics,
began to be incorporated into the design of tea houses, along with various other intricate displays such as the
use of expensive wood and washi paper for the structure, latticework on the windows, and the application of
lacquer to utensils and other elements. But during the early-to-mid-Muromachi period (1336 – 1573) a
significant change took place, which shifted the direction of the tea house. Although it was led by several, for
simplicity’s sake we will focus on Sen no Rikyu, who is often credited with sculpting the tea ceremony as we
know it today, and whose name is synonymous with the Japanese aesthetic. Rikyu preceded to, one by one,
strip strip each aforementioned trait, distilling the tea house down to his ideal space: the rustic tea house, or
soan.

Hako-ie (2008)
In 2008, Eyes-Japan, a company who prides itself in its fusion of traditional and modern, announced that they
had created Hako-ie. Literally, box house, the structure is meant to serve as a temporary tea house within its
larger dwelling. Hako-ie is a sealed off space that filters out and mutes activity in the rest of the home. It acts
as a miniature man-made universe. Being eminently erasable in nature, the structure boasts easy assembly and
disassembly without the need for a single screw or nail. That year it was awarded a Good Design Award.
You start out with something like this…

bypass a few steps…

and voila!

But Sen no Rikyu didn’t stop with his trimmed down soan tea house. As tea master forToyotomi
Hideyoshi (1537 – 1598), the most powerful man in Japan at the time, Rikyu responded to that power by
constructing Tai-an (待庵), his most extreme tea house ever. It’snijiriguchi entrance was so small that
participants had to remove their sword (a symbol of rank) and crawl inside. The interior was anything but
glamorous. In fact, it resembled a tiny cave more than anything else. It was the first time that a nijiriguchi had
been used for such a powerful figure. The result was a 2-tatami mat space, just enough room for Rikyu and his
master, the most powerful man in Japan, to conduct an intimate tea ceremony4.

Kengo Kuma – Fuan Teahouse (2007)

Kengo Kuma has created several unorthodox tea houses. But in 2007 he created Fuan (浮庵) (floating
hermitage), a floating tea room comprised of a helium balloon veiled with an ultra-light fabric. Weighing in at
a mere 11 grams per square meter, the weight of the material counteracts the upward pressure of the helium,
creating a perfectly balanced structure without walls or pillars. Kuma occasionally exhibits his floating tea
house (usually in locations of chaotic activity, such as department store), inviting spectators to join a real tea
ceremony in a seemingly paradoxical space of virtual reality. The structure, if one can call it that, mirrors
Kuma’s distaste for overly-assertive architecture, instead favoring “soft architecture,” a term coined by Kuma
that refers to the temporary, almost erasable, characteristics of the discipline that he is drawn to. I can only
imagine, but Fuan must offer quite a different perspective on the world as it looks into itself and away from its
surrounding environment.

Rikyu’s death caused yet another upheaval in tea house architecture. Primarily led by his many disciples who,
perhaps freed from the monumental and regal authority that Rikyu represented, branched out into different
experimental directions. The students built upon and expanded upon their master’s heritage. Although Rikyu’s
blood descendants emulated his style and continued to experiment with ultra-small tea houses, as a whole,
post-Rikyu tea rooms tended to be brighter and larger.

Jun Igarashi – Tea House (2006)

In 2006 Hokkaido-based architect Jun Igarashi constructed “Tea House.” The half-submerged structure is
unique in that, amongst other obvious traits, it uses elevation as a means of separating the tea preparation area
from the serving area. Paradoxically, the tea preparation area is small, dark and intimate but as the tea is
moved to be served the space intrinsically unfolds, allowing for the infinitely vast environment to enter into the
ceremony. It’s also worth noting that, visually, the structure is quite ironic. A motif of a home was used to
create the concrete structure while the rust-colored roof doubles as a table.

Tea House by Jun Igarashi | photos by Naoki Honjo

After Rikyu’s death the tea house, architecturally and academically speaking, entered a period of prolonged
neglect. Almost all through the Edo period (1603 – 1868) the tea rooms being built were copies and imitations
of what Rikyu had done. Even Japan’s first native architects largely ignored the tea house as a legitimate form
of architecture. In the 1920s Japan saw the emergence of several architects who had been deeply influence by
European modernism. These architects ignited a brief interest in the tea house but it was short-lived and the dry
spell was once again upon us. Kenzo Tange (1913 – 2005), Japan’s leading postwar architect, once said with a
hubris that can almost sound naïve, “I don’t do homes.” It was a reflection on his belief that an architect can
only shine through monumental, large-scale public works (I don’t even want to know how he feels about the
intimate, miniscule tea house.) By and large his position was shared by most post-war architects, and the tea
house was dismissed as irrelevant.

Terunobu Fujimori – Takasugi-an (2004)

Terunobu Fujimori is perhaps one of the more academic architects working in Japan today, both conceptually
and in practice. He has been deeply influenced by the tea house, which makes him a perfect subject as we wind
down our discussion. In 2004 Fujimori completed a tea house titled Takasugi-an (高過庵), literally “too tall
hermitage.” Firmly footed in the teachings of Rikyu, the interior is anything but spacious and is composed of
humble materials like plaster and bamboo mats. Although Rikyu preferred the even smaller 2-mat space for
floor area, Fujimori went with the iconic yojohan (4.5 tatami mats); just enough space for 2 guests to sit (but
not stand!) Here is where, visually, the similarities cease and Fujimori’s tea house diverges from tradition. The
house was erected upon 2 trees that were cut and brought in from a nearby mountain. In order to reach the
room, guests must climb up the freestanding ladders propped up against the tree. And therein lies the genius of
Fujimori’s work. Using paradox to guide the consciousness of his guests, he takes them from an exhilarating
climb to a serene and spiritual setting high above ground.
photos by Edmond Sumner
Beginning with the small iori hut and following it’s rise-fall-rise-fall roller coaster ride that is the history of the
tea house, we now arrive in contemporary Japan where, for roughly 20 years now, the tea house has flourished
as an architectural subject. Current-day homes incorporate tea houses in order to provide a physical separation
between noise and tranquility, the everyday and the spiritual. The tea room can be stand-alone or connected to
a home. But as we have seen, there are various rules that determine its shape and form. And much akin to the
way western architects approach a bathroom or kitchen, tea houses are typically built using the best of
materials. In terms of $ per Sq ft, the tea house is probably about 10 times the cost of other parts of the home.
I think it’s pretty clear that its historical context, combined with the many constraints that accompany the tea
house, make it an attractive subject for architects. My designer friends have told me that they like the challenge
of making something artistically beautiful that also has to perform a task. In fact, psychologists have argued
that, when forced to come up with something under extreme constraints, we rely on different, often
subconscious, parts of the brain.

“Man built most nobly when limitations were at their

greatest.”
-Frank Lloyd Wright
When considering modern-day Japan, in all its denseness and proximity between homes and lack of privacy, I
can’t help but recall the original intent of the tea house. Roughly 800 years ago tiny huts appeared in urban
centers that looked away from the city and into itself. In essence, the tea house symbolized a piece of non-
urban architecture within an urban setting. And at the same time, with all its tiny entrances, rustic ruin, ironic
lack of accoutrements and paradoxical spaces that somehow balance large and small, interior and exterior, the
tea house appears to contradict the very foundation that architecture was built upon. In fact, Terunobu Fujimori
(Takasugi-an) has argued that, as a form of architecture, the Japanese tea house is the only arena in which
paradox, irony and ruin come together in a single subject.

I’m no architect and so I’ll never really know, but I suspect that the tea house, in many shapes and forms,
emulates the modern Japanese home (or perhaps it’s the other way around). The tea room, so small and
intimate, represents a balance that architects strive to achieve in every residence they design. It’s through the
tea house that they hone their artistic skill and flex their creative muscle. The tea house allows architects to flirt
with the surreal in ways they will never be able to in traditional practice.

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References/ Suggested Reading

The Contemporary Tea House by Arata Isozaki et. al. (2007)

Chashitsu by Wafukenchikusha (2007)

Rediscovering Rikyu and the Beginnings of the Japanese Tea Ceremony by Herbert Plutschow (2003)