Asian art history in Japan

¶ … Tea provides a potent and stimulating introduction (to use two adjectives often used to describe the beverage itself) to Japanese culture. On the surface, tea seems to be like a very simple drink. To many Westerners, it is simply part of the familiar question, "would you like coffee, tea, or milk," proffered by waiters everywhere. However, in Japan, the rituals and cultural significance of tea transcends its status as a mere elixir. As pointed out by the book's author, Kakuzo Okakura, tea is a medicine as well as a drink. "The fifteenth century saw Japan ennoble it into a religion of aestheticism -- Teaism. Teaism is a cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence."

This sentence embodies the paradox of Okakura's prose. Life is sordid, he admits, but he does it with such good grace and humor, his comment seems light-hearted. He makes Teaism a religion, like Taoism, but acknowledges his absurdity in doing so. This embodies the idea of Teaism, namely that by focusing on the possibilities of perfecting something small, like brewing and serving a perfect cup of tea, with all the correct ceremony, a sense of harmony and control is attained, even in light of the imperfections of a confusing world.

But why not, for example, simply prepare a meal, or wash the floor, or do something else, and call it a religion? Would these not provide equally symbolically significant yet simple images for such a cult? The significance of tea, however, is not merely about the Japanese aestheticism of simplicity, or the beautification of ordinary life. Tea is a system of ethics, religion, hygiene, and even economics. It is cheap enough for anyone to afford, yet drunk by the rich as well as the poor. Teaism is not merely found within the brewing of tea itself, but in every facet of Japanese "home and habits, costume and cuisine, porcelain, lacquer, painting," and literature, writes Okakura, for "all have been subject to its [tea's] influence. Whenever one regards a simple Japanese watercolor, or marvels at a perfectly wrapped Japanese present that contains a beautiful, perfect, but not very costly gift, there lies the ethos of Teaism. Even in the nature of the Book of Tea's design itself, in its lack of ornateness yet beautiful layout, the influence of the concepts of Teaism is felt and manifest.

Of course, other cultures have held more potent beverages much more dear than tea. "Mankind has done worse. In the worship of Bacchus, we have sacrificed too freely; and we have even transfigured the gory image of Mars." In other words, the health and lack of a 'dark side' to the beverage of tea (except perhaps a subtle caffeine buzz from too much tea, although a true Teaist would never overindulge) is what makes Teaism such a uniquely Japanese religion. It is all about the beautiful and about cleanliness, unlike alcohol or the worship of war and darkness. Make much of little things, and make little of great things, and there lies the source of all happiness. Tea study does not have the danger of studying or drinking wine, even though a devotee might expend just as much energy to the perfection of tea.

Okakura's own prose, with its attitude of whimsy rather than worshipfulness: "What a tempest in a tea cup...Perhaps I betray my own ignorance of the Tea Cult by being so outspoken," is in keeping with the principles of Teaism that he outlines. He makes delightful use of the religious nature of tea, poking fun at Westerners who dislike tea, who call drinking tea a filthy custom as heretics. This lack of reverence towards tea is a key, ironic part of Japanese religiosity, he implies. By not taking things too seriously, the true ethos of tea is manifest. Tea is served with deliberation, but ultimately the pourer knows that it does not matter very much in the grand scheme of things.

Despite such heretical observation, with a gentle yet explosive point, the author provides a potently brewed observation on colonialism: "Strangely enough humanity has so far met in the tea-cup. It is the only Asiatic ceremonial which commands universal esteem. The white man has scoffed at our religion and our morals, but has accepted the brown beverage without hesitation. The afternoon tea is now an important function in Western society. In the delicate clatter of trays and saucers, in the soft rustle of feminine hospitality, in the common catechism about cream and sugar, we know that the Worship of Tea is established beyond question. The philosophic resignation of the guest to the fate awaiting him in the dubious decoction proclaims that in this single instance the Oriental spirit reigns supreme." By colonizing the Western stomach, tea has triumphed, and therefore Japan and its aesthetic. Although they consider themselves perfectly British, the tea-drinking English matron is really replicating the far older ceremony of what Okakura calls the Orient.