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The Chanoyu Hyaku-shu [茶湯百首], Part I: Poem 16.

〽 Hanaire no ore-kugi utsu ha ji-shiki yori san-shaku san-sun go-bu-yo mo ari

[花入の折釘打つは地敷居より、三尺三寸五分餘も有り].

“With respect to the place where the hook for the hanaire is nailed, it should be [a little] over 3-shaku 3-sun 5-bu above the ji-shiki.”

An ore-kugi [折釘]¹ is a metal hook, originally made by bending a straight headless iron nail into an L shape (with the point at the tip of the long axis). Since the Edo period, a more elaborate retractable hook² came into use; but during Jōō’s and Rikyū’s lifetimes this hook was simply nailed into the wooden stud that was carefully centered within the back wall of the toko for precisely this purpose.

Ji-shiki seems to be a spoken contraction of ji-shikii [地敷居]. The shikii [敷居] are the tracks that extend between the pillars into which the fusuma and shōji are inserted. The ji-shikii [地敷居], then, refers to the lower track. This word is used (rather than saying something like the surface of the mats) because the upper surface of the ji-shikii remains constant, while the tatami mats (which are essentially the same height as the ji-shikii when newly installed) tend to compact over time (so the height of their surface falls). The word has also been used to refer to the base board at the bottom of a sode-kabe³. Irrespective of which, the ji-shikii, then, is the more constant representative of the baseline from which the height of the hook for the hanaire could be fixed than the surface of the mats that cover the room.

Some scholars argue that this poem is referring to the height of the hook above the mat that covers the floor of the tokonoma (while most, it is important to note, simply avoid the question entirely), but there was no ji-shikii associated with the toko during Jōō’s and Rikyū’s lifetime. The 5-bu-wide strips of wood that can be seen on the three sides of the toko where the mat abuts plastered walls (the side that opens into the room is fronted by the toko-kamachi [床框]), like the similar band of wood that skirts the sides of the room itself, are not ji-shikii. These boards are called haba-ki [幅木]; they are small boards that are inserted between the mats and the walls to help keep the mats from coming into contact with the mud-plaster (since, if they do so, the mats can easily begin to molder, especially during the damp seasons of the year). These boards can never be interpreted as ji-shikii.

Furthermore, the height of the hook was based on the proper height for the flowers relative to the guests’ eyes when inspecting the toko. The guests sit 3-shaku away from the chabana, lower their hands to the mat, and from that attitude lift their face toward the flower arrangement. If the height of the hook was based on the floor of the toko, then the height would differ depending on the height of the floor -- which ranges from being equal to the mats (this is called a fumi-komi toko [踏み込み床]), to one where the floor is approximately 2-sun higher than the mats that cover the room (this is most commonly seen variety of the kamachi-toko [框床] in sukiya, but it is hardly universal), and between 4- and 5-sun (or even higher) in some of the daimyō-inspired rooms; yet, regardless of the height of the floor of the toko, the guests always inspect it from the same seat on the mat in front of it (and there is a natural limit on how far the neck will allow the person to lift their face upward when the person is seated in the proper way). The height of the hook determines the height of the flowers, and the purpose of all of this is so that the flowers will be displayed above eye-level, in accordance with Rikyū’s well-known teaching⁴.

3-shaku 3-sun 5-bu is a hair over 101.5 cm.

The Matsu-ya manuscript, Rikyū‘s 1580 manuscript, and the collection that was discovered by Katagiri Sadamasa, all feature a version of this poem that differs from the Edo period versions by lowering the height of the hook to various extents:

〽 hanaire no orekugi ha mata ji-shiki yori san-shaku san-sun ni-sun go-bu ni mo

[花入の折釘はまた地敷より三尺三寸二寸五分にも].

“With respect to the orekugi for the hanaire, again, from the ji-shiki, three-shaku three-sun, or else [three-shaku] two-sun five-bu.”

The height was clearly not fixed so exactly in the beginning⁵. 3-shaku 3-sun is essentially 100 cm; 3-shaku 2-sun 5-bu is approximately 98.5 cm.

However, in one of his densho, Rikyū states that the height should be 3-shaku 7-sun 5-bu (113.6 cm)⁶, indicating that a certain amount of flexibility in the height of the hook was always appropriate -- so that the host could accommodate the specifics of his particular hanaire⁷.

Line 7 in the first scroll of the Chanoyu san-byak’ka jō [茶湯三百箇條]⁸ reads: hanaire kake-sōrō-kugi ōgata sunpō aru-hanaire ni yoru-beshi [花入懸候釘大形寸法有花入によるへし], which means “the hook from which a hanaire can be suspended should be ample, based on the measurements of the hanaire,” and this specific reliance on the size of the hanaire (and the location of the kan, or other means by which it is suspended from the hook) is probably the reason for the flexibility voiced in the original version of the poem.

Some scholars suggest that the 101.5 cm height (which is what is stated in the more modern version of the poem) refers to the height of the ore-kugi in a kyōma room (such as the various small rooms that were popular in the period)⁹; while the earlier version of this poem is referring to its height in an inakama room¹⁰ of the sort that was preferred for chanoyu at the time when these poems were composed. This theory seems reasonable.

_________________________

◎ I have added an annotated translation of the Rikyū shichi-soku [利休七則] (Rikyū’s Seven Rules) to the end of this post, as an appendix.

¹Today ori-kugi [折り釘] seems to be the more widely accepted pronunciation. However, ore-kugi [折釘 = 折れ釘] was clearly preferred in Jōō’s and Rikyū’s day.

²Called a mu-sō-kugi [無雙釘, 無双釘], the purpose of this hook was to remove any possible danger (that the hook would damage the kakemono) by allowing the hook to be slid back into the wall when not needed.

The location of the hana-kugi marks the focal point of the toko, so when a scroll is being custom-made for the host, the center of the hon-shi [本紙] should be at the place where the hook has been nailed into the wall. Because of this, chajin of old were fearful that a gust of wind might blow the scroll (which is suspended so that it is several bu away from the wall) forcefully against the hook, so that it might be punctured through. Thus this more elaborate form of hook was created to help avoid this kind of situation. (In chanoyu, people should be as concerned about the possibility that something could pose a danger, as much as for something that is actually dangerous.)

³While the “sode-kabe” that immediately comes to mind is the one that encloses the kamae at the head of the daime, another type of sode-kabe is found as the wall that separates the toko from the utensil mat in a large room in which the two are oriented side-by-side (as seen below).

The room shown is Kobori Masakazu’s Bōsen no seki [忘筌席], in the Kohō-an [孤篷庵] sub-temple of the Daitoku-ji in Kyōto. However, while some scholars use this ji-shikii to justify the conclusion that this poem is describing the height of the hana-kugi as being based on the floor of the toko, it is important to note that this kind of room did not exist until the middle of the first century of the Edo period.

The aesthetic governing this kind of room, which represents a deliberate “wabification” of the shoin setting, is referred to as kirei-sabi [綺麗寂び] -- elegant rusticity (or refined mellowness). This concept was closely identified with Kobori Enshū,-- just as wabi [侘び] (meaning impoverished, desolate) was with Sen no Sōtan.

⁴Hana ha no no hana no yō ni [花ハ野ノ花ノヤウニ], which means “the flowers should be [displayed] as they are in the field.” Which means, in essence, that flowers which bloom low to the ground should be arranged in an oki-hanaire, while flowers that were cut from trees should be arranged in a hanaire that is suspended from the hook that is nailed into the back wall of the toko (and so are above eye-level when the toko is inspected by the guests).

In practice, Rikyū appears to have taken the actual height of the flower when he cut it as his guide (so even though the camellia can grow into a medium-sized tree, the one in his garden was a low shrub, thus he could arrange its flowers in a hanaire that was resting on the floor of his toko).

Note that during the Edo period, various arguments were made in an effort to circumvent this rule -- by saying, for example, that grassy flowers can grow up the side of an embankment (and so would first be perceived as being above eye-level), while trees can also grow in a glen (so that, when approached from above, the flowers would be below eye-level). But Rikyū’s interpretation seems to have been that it refers to the height at which the flower was actually cut -- so that, in the toko, it would appear to the eye just as it did when it was taken from nature.

For the reader’s reference, I have included a complete translation of the text known as Rikyū’s Seven Rules (from which the aphorism hana ha no no hana no yō ni [花ハ野ノ花ノヤウニ] was taken) as an appendix to this post.

⁵These absolute rules were a product of the Edo period, when the different schools began to fix the (usually secret) details in this way -- at least in part in an effort to ferret out the uninitiated.

⁶This latter measurement was intended to represent a hook nailed so as to accommodate the added height of the hole carved for the hook in the back side of a take ichi-jū-giri [竹一重切] -- while keeping the flowers at the same height as previously*.

Rikyū’s less-well-known ichi-jū-giri known as Odawara [小田原] (he made it quickly, during an intermission in Hideyoshi’s all-night flower arranging competition during the siege of Odawara -- to replace the more famous Onjōji [圓城寺] ichi-jū-giri, when the latter began to leak).

On that occasion, the ichi-jū-giri was hung on the back wall of the toko (for use when arranging flowers that were best viewed above eye-level); the oki-tsutsu [置き筒] called Shaku-hachi [尺八] was placed on a board on the floor of the toko, for arrangements using flowers that were to be viewed below eye-level; and the ni-jū-giri [二重切] Yo-naga [よなか = 夜長] was hung on the pillar at the side of the toko -- to hold a continually replenished supply of fresh flowers (flowers from trees in the upper level, and grassy flowers in the lower), from which the contestants would make their selections. ___________ *When arranged in an ordinary ceramic kake-hanaire [掛け花入], the lower edge of its mouth (against which the stems of the flowers would rest) was usually at, or slightly below, the height of the hook.

⁷During Jōō’s and Rikyū’s period, most chajin typically owned only two hanaire -- one that was suitable for being displayed on the floor of the toko, while the other was intended to be hung up on the hook that was nailed into the back wall of the toko. These were used all year round, when each was appropriate to the flowers available to the host.

The photo shows Uesugi Kenshin’s [上杉謙信; 1530 ~ 1578] collection of tea utensils (except for the kama, mizusashi, koboshi, and futaoki*), all of which fit into the Chinese carrying box that is included in this photo. Kenshin was one of Jōō’s principal disciples, and an important daimyō and renowned military commander in his own right.

The objects shown in the photo are, from left to right, his small (Seto) chawan†, an ivory chashaku, a chasen, his Seto kake-hanaire, a large kobiki-chawan, a karamono yu-teki temmoku [唐物油滴天目], (a copy of) Shukō’s kiri-ai-guchi shin-nakatsugi [切合口眞中次]‡, a bronze oki-hanaire, a (Japanese-made) maki-e temmoku-dai, and the shifuku for the nakatsugi.

Kenshin’s modest collection was typical of serious chajin of his day. Changing the utensils for each gathering, based on selections taken from a large collection of things, was a practice that began during the Edo period -- when the focus of chanoyu (even in the wabi small room setting) had shifted away from the tea, toward the utensils**. ___________ *It is said that his mizusashi was a mage-mono mizusashi [曲げ物水指], and his koboshi was a mentsū [面桶], while Kenshin’s futaoki was bamboo, all in Jōō’s manner (Kenshin was just 25 or 26 years of age when Jōō died, so the master’s influence on his approach to chanoyu was great). These things were replaced every time he made tea so they were always fresh and pure.

The Uesugi family, meanwhile, previously owned a hiragumo-kama [平蜘蛛釜], shown above, which was said to have been in the family since the time of Kenshin. This was probably the kama that he used when serving tea.

This kind of kama rests on the ro-dan [爐壇], on top of a pair of small blocks of wood (that are placed on the right and left -- they assist with ventilating the interior of the ro while also lifting the mouth of the kama so it is 7-bu above the ro-buchi [爐緣]), again in conformity with Jōō‘s way of doing things.

†Chajin of the time generally used a pair of chawan, in addition to a temmoku (though this was reserved for the service of tea to noble guests only). At that time, the convention was to serve every guest an individual portion of koicha (the practice of passing around a single bowl of koicha -- called sui-cha [吸い茶] -- does not seem to have appeared until after Jōō’s death), as well as up to two bowls of usucha. Using two chawan helped to facilitate this kind of service.

The larger chawan -- which, in the wabi setting, was always used to serve the shōkyaku (and so known as the omo-chawan [主茶碗]) -- was around 4-sun 9-bu in diameter (according to Jōō’s preferred measurements); and the smaller one (which was called the kae-chawan [替茶碗]) measured ~4-sun in diameter.

‡These copies were highly treasured, even though new, because the kiri-ai-guchi (which was extremely difficult to make, since the lid was separated from the body only after the piece had been lacquered fully) meant that the tea would be protected from the air -- this was the best technology of the day available for this purpose.

Rikyū likewise treasured the copy of Shukō’s shin-nakatsugi, shown above, which Hideyoshi’s personal lacquer artist Tenka-ichi Seiami [天下一盛阿彌] had made for him.

**Based, perhaps, on the precedent of Rikyū’s several kai-ki [會記] (which were widely disseminated, after they were published, during the first century of the Edo period).

However, what apparently was not understood was that the kai-ki describe the arrangements for chakai that Rikyū hosted on Hideyoshi’s behalf; and the selection of utensils used during each of the gatherings was deliberately calculated to produce a specific effect (for example, when the tori-awase included pieces that had belonged to Nobunaga, the purpose was to reinforce the legitimacy of Hideyoshi’s rule in the eyes of that particular group of guests, by showing that he was the legitimate successor to Nobunaga -- since his low birth precluded him from being granted titles such as shōgun).

⁸The Chanoyu san-byak’ka jō [茶湯三百箇條] was a more advanced collection of teachings that Jōō disseminated among his special students. While the earliest surviving version is the one written out in Uesugi Kenshin’s hand (he returned to chanoyu during the last decade of his life, when he was in retirement; and in addition to copying out the original text, he also appended a brief commentary to each of the lines), reflecting the text as he received it from Jōō. Jōō himself always asserted that this text ultimately derived from Shukō, and so was a foundational text for the practice of wabi no chanoyu. Kenshin’s manuscript also contains additional comments and clarifications provided by Sen no Dōan [千道安; 1546 ~ 1607], Rikyū’s only son, and Dōan’s disciple Kuwayama Sōsen [桑山宗仙; 1560 ~ 1632].

⁹A kyōma [京間] is a room spread with “capital sized” mats (tatami measuring 6-shaku 3-sun by 3-shaku 1-sun 5-bu; the space between the heri is 2-shaku 9-sun 5-bu wide). While 4.5-mat rooms of this size had been favored by the nobility (Yoshimasa’s Dōjin-sai shoin [同仁齋書院], the prototypical 4.5-mat room was covered with kyōma tatami), the townsmen of Jōō’s day seem to have preferred rooms of a somewhat smaller size -- spread with inakama tatami (see the next footnote).

While the kyōma tatami is the only kind of mat that can be used in the small room (regardless of the number of mats, or the ways in which they are cut), the small room (as the 2-mat daime room) only made its first appearance in the spring or early summer of 1555, which was several decades after Jōō wrote these poems.

¹⁰An inakama [田舎間] is a room whose floor is covered with “village sized” mats (tatami that measured 5-shaku 9-sun by 2-shaku 9-sun 5-bu; with a space of 2-shaku 7-sun 5-bu wide being found between the heri).

At the time when Jōō composed these poems (during his middle period), the inakama 4.5-mat room was the preferred room for chanoyu among the machi-shū. Thus, a height of 3-shaku 3-sun or 3-shaku 2-sun 5-bu, was better in keeping with this reduced setting*. ___________ *Jōō was also of smaller than average stature, so lowering the hook may have been intended to accommodate his inability to raise his head higher when seated in front of the toko.

Since the 4.5-mat room was considered the appropriate living space for one person, some have speculated that his preference for the inakama may have been due to his small size.

Rikyū, in contrast, always used rooms covered with kyōma tatami (including his 4.5-mat rooms).

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❖ Appendix: Rikyū shichi-soku [利休七則].

〽 Hana ha no no hana no yō ni [花ハ野ノ花ノヤウニ]: concerning the flowers, they should be like natural flowers.

According to Nishibori Ichizō [西堀一三, 1903~1970], this line refers primarily to the orientation of the flowers in the tokonoma – that is to say, flowers that we see in nature at or above eye level should be arranged in a kake-hanaire [掛花入] suspended on the back wall (or on the bokuseki-mado) of the toko, while those that occur naturally below eye level should be arranged in an oki-hanaire [置花入] placed on an usuita on the floor of the toko¹¹.

But while, as Furuta Sōshitsu pointed out, ground-dwelling plants can be found growing on the sides of embankments, and as we walk on higher ground trees growing at a lower altitude can be seen blooming below us, so we should not simplify things by saying that tree-flowers should be hung and herbaceous flowers should be arranged on the floor of the toko, when Rikyū arranged his chabana, he oriented the flowers at the height at which he had cut them¹². Perhaps it would be better to follow Rikyū‘s lead here, rather than Oribe’s.

〽 Sumi ha yu no waku yō ni [炭ハ湯ノ沸クヤウニ]: with respect to the charcoal, it should be [arranged] so that it boils the hot water.

As it is written in the Hundred Poems, an arrangement of charcoal that heats the kama efficiently and keeps it boiling to the end of the service of tea is what is meant by the idea of sumi for the tearoom. This -- that it keep the hot water boiling -- and nothing more.

〽 Natsu ha suzushiku [夏ハ涼シク]: in summer, coolness.

This does not mean splashing water all over the place, dumping a tray of ice-cubes in the tsukubai, or using crystal vessels as the mizusashi and chawan to imitate ice (or any of the other tricks that people have come up with in recent years).

It does mean doing things like:

◦ soaking the sudare in water so that the air blowing through them is cooled;

◦ doing things like growing morning-glory vines on cords suspended from the eves on the sunny side of the tea room (and making sure that they are well watered during the hottest part of the day¹³);

◦ refraining from putting the fire into the furo¹⁴ until just before the guests are expected to arrive (so the air in the room will not become too warm)¹⁵;

◦ and doing whatever else the host can think of to keep the guests from noticing the heat.

And if the ro has to be used during the summer months, the host should try his best to keep the fire out of sight -- either by using an uba-guchi kama [姥口釜] (a kama with a sunken mouth, which is placed deep in the ro, so that the fire will seem farther away); or a ha-gama [羽釜], a kama with a projecting flange (a photo of this kind of kama is included under footnote 7, above) that rests on top of two small blocks of wood that are placed on the ro-dan (today many people call this a suki-gi kama [透木釜] -- suki-gi [透木] being the names for the two little blocks of wood), since the flange not only hides the fire, but also tends to keep the heat in the ro, so it has less impact on the ambient temperature than an ordinary ro-gama.

The best way to really understand this line is to study the old kaiki and see what the masters did to effect a feeling of coolness even during the hottest time of the year.

〽 Fuyu wo atataka ni [冬ヲ暖カニ]: it should be warm in winter.

During the season of the ro, the fire should be laid at dawn (even when the gathering will not begin for several hours -- the idea being to warm the room before the guests arrive). Then, when the guests do enter, the fire will be seen to have burned down to the point where the kama is no longer boiling audibly (but the water will still be quite hot, and this stored heat helps to keep the room warm¹⁶).

During the shoza the windows should be closed with shōji to keep the lingering heat in the room until the kama returns to a boil again. Then, during the nakadachi, the covers over the shitaji-mado should be removed, so that the room will not overheat¹⁷.

Also the chawan should be deep, so the tea will not cool; and the host should not open the mizusashi (to cool the kama) until after koicha has been served.

These things not only keep the room warm, but they will help the guests feel warm just by their noticing them.

And if the furo has to be used in winter, a large iron furo is preferred; and the host should try, as far as possible, to follow the procedures usual to the ro (and, importantly, not open the mizusashi or add cold water to the kama until after the koicha has been served, and the cha-no-ato [茶の跡] drunk by the host).

〽 Kokugen ha hayame ni [刻限ハ早メニ]: to arrive earlier than the appointed time.

It is better for the guests to arrive early and then take a short walk around the neighborhood if the gate is not yet open to receive them, rather than come late and possibly ruin the host’s plans¹⁸. As Rikyū said, a masterful host is one who carries things through to the end without wasting charcoal, so that the boiling of the kama begins to decline (but not fail) as the guests are leaving the room at the end of the go-za. If they are late, they may throw off the timing of even the most experienced host.

On the other hand, if the guests arrive before the host is ready to receive them, they should not impose on him, make any demands, or do anything that will distract him from his preparations. They should sit quietly, and refrain from making their presence known until the time that was appointed for the gathering to begin. They should wait patiently and serenely, and respond to the host’s invitation to enter the room as if they had only just walked in off of the street moments before, without having waited at all.

These are the deeper meanings of this admonition, because it is this attitude that will help to insure the success of the gathering.

〽 Furazu-domo ame no yō-i [降ラズトモ雨ノ用意]: even when it is not falling, one should think about rain.

Preparing to receive ones guests should be done fully, without stinting or cutting corners. As Rikyū said time and time again, it is never wrong to be careful. Preparing for rain when it shows no sign of raining is an example of what is meant by “being careful.”

〽 Ai-kyaku ni kokoro wo tsuke yo [相客ニ心ヲツケヨ]: be considerate to ones fellow guests.]

Even though the gathering is planned for and around the shōkyaku, and even though he is effectively the guest of honor (with the understanding that the other guests are there just to keep him from becoming lonely; and assist him if that becomes necessary) neither he, nor anyone else, should ever forget that they are all guests equally.

At this gathering there is the host and there are the guests; at this gathering there are neither host nor guest:

sei-zan saku shu mei-getsu ko hin gu-en soku-ō ryō-mu sosshin

[青山作主明月來賓愚緣卽應了無疎親]¹⁹.

“The pine-covered mountain acts as host, the bright moon comes as guest – because this is the result of karma, there is no thought of holding fast or letting go [of attraction or rejection]….”

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¹¹What it does not say (again, according to Nishibori Sensei – who was the great scholar of the co-evolution of chabana and ikebana, as well as on the student-teacher relationship between the first Ike-no-bō Sōkō and Sen no Rikyū) is that only wild flowers – meaning flowers collected in the wilds (as opposed to even the same species that has been cultivated in the garden) – may be used in the chaseki. In the days of Jōō and Rikyū most (if not all) of the flowers used in the tearoom were in fact grown in the chajin’s garden (or the garden of a friend), even if they were technically wild flowers (both Sakai and Hakata were walled city-states during this period, with no wild-lands incorporated into the very limited space available for residences inside, and sometimes the inhabitants had only limited access to the land outside the walls: so, transporting flowers from outside the walls would have been difficult (or, depending on the political situation of the day, potentially even dangerous), and likely result in a handful of wilting or dead weeds – and, as we have read in the poem discussed in this post, the practice of sending flowers from the mountains was actually discouraged by Jōō and Rikyū).

Wild camellias, in particular, come in red (the single-flowering yabu-tsubaki [藪椿]). White, and the even more highly-prized usu-iro [薄色], or pale pink, cultivars, were found only in gardens (new varieties often arising from hybridization occurring between the plants grown in shrubberies along the paths that lead up to the temples, from seeds that fell between the plants and germinated in situ:*). __________ *When Sōtan recorded that he received a camellia from one of the monks at the Daitoku-ji, what he is saying is that the monk sent him a cutting of the plant -- with the flower attached to show what it was -– with the intent that Sōtan plant it in his garden and grow the flower himself. That Sōtan displayed the flower first in his tokonoma was to do honor to the monk and the beauty of the flower before subsequently putting it out in his garden. Sōtan’s garden, even in the days before he rose to prominence, was much more extensive than just the path that lead from the street to to the tearoom, or the vegetable garden out back.

¹²And when there were no flowers blooming in his garden, Rikyū eschewed having them brought from somewhere else -- because the rule was that only flowers that are in bloom in the place where the chakai is being held are acceptable.

¹³The morning-glory vines should be well watered so that they will not wilt during the heat of the day. But more, as with soaking the sudare in water, breezes blowing through the wet morning-glory leaves will be cooled noticeably, and impart this coolness to the room.

¹⁴In summer, Rikyū sometimes received the guests in a room in which the full set of washed charcoal was already arranged in the furo, with the hibashi resting on the shiki-ita, but without any fire. After the exchange of greetings, he brought out a haiki filled with shimeshi-bai, in which the sa-gitchō [三毬杖] (three burning pieces of charcoal that served as the shita-bi) was arranged. And, before the eyes of the guests, these were lifted out and put into the space left for them in the furo. Taking the haiki back to the katte, he returned with the dripping-wet small unryū-gama, which he placed above the now kindling fire….

On another occasion, just after the end of the rainy season when it was simply too hot to sit indoors, Rikyū hosted a gathering in a boat beached on the bank of a fast-flowing mountain river. After the guests took their seats, Rikyū “loaded the hull” by adding the fire to the pre-arranged charcoal, and then “lifted the anchor” to begin the voyage that was this gathering –- the “anchor” being his small unryū-gama (with the lid sealed by gluing a paper tape dipped in rice paste around the edge, so the kama would not overfill with water), which had been submerged in the stream with kan and tsuru all attached to the chain. Putting the kama on a ro-like sunken hearth in the middle of the boat, Rikyū made tea using the stream itself as both his mizusashi and his koboshi….

Ultimately, the best way to learn what this line means is by studying the relevant entries in documents like Rikyū’s kaiki -- the records of gatherings that were hosted during the hot days that follow the rainy season.

¹⁵This is especially important in the small room, since it is easier to overheat (even in the winter).

During the shoza, the shitaji-mado [下地窓] should be covered with their little shōji* -- to prevent ashes from blowing up when the host lifts up the kama at the beginning of the sumi-temae. But they also help to keep the room warm by preventing strong drafts. ___________ *This teaching was misinterpreted by the machi-shū to mean that the tea room should be dark during the shoza. The coverings for the shitaji-mado are little wood-and-paper shōji, and putting them in front of these openings does not markedly decrease the amount of ambient light entering the room. The shitaji-mado are there primarily for ventillation. Illumination is the job of the other windows.

Originally there were only two shitaji-mado: one located in the wall at the head of the utensil mat (called the furosaki-mado [風爐先窓]), and one beside (and later, within) the tokonoma (called the bokuseki-mado [墨跡窓]). Their principal purpose was to control the flow of air moving through the room (which is why they were originally always suspended from two hooks nailed into the wall above the window-opening -- so that, even when closed, they would be far enough away from the latticed innards of the wall to allow them to sway slightly, so that the atmosphere in the room would not be stifling).

The reason why these windows were closed during the shoza was so that the charcoal fire would begin to burn slowly during the meal -- because if it started to kindle too strongly, the charcoal would quickly become exhausted, and the fire would not last until the end of the gathering. (While the modern schools cheat by adding one, or even two, more sumi-temae during the goza, in Rikyū’s chanoyu charcoal was added to the fire only once, at the beginning of the shoza; and this was expected to last until the service of usucha was finished.)

¹⁶Kama decorated with hailstone patterns are especially good at exchanging heat with the air in the room, and this is why arare-gama were always popular during the winter months.

¹⁷This is a side of the matter that is often overlooked by many modern people (since they are not familiar with the use of charcoal for heat). The room should be comfortable, but not overly hot – so that the host and guests begin to perspire -- and the guests begin to feel lethargic, or even drop off into sleep.

¹⁸As mentioned above, in Rikyū’s chanoyu, for the fire to last until the gathering was ending was one very critical thing. And even though the fire is not laid until the beginning of the shoza, its success depends on the shita-bi [下火].

During the winter, the shita-bi is the remains of the fire that was laid at dawn*. But if the guests are late, this fire might burn down too much, and the kama might begin to cool (meaning it will take too long to return to a boil, consuming too much charcoal in the process, and thus having a negative impact on the host’s timing).

During the summer season, if the furo is being used, a full set of charcoal is not laid until after the guests have entered the tea room†. Some minutes before they are expected to arrive‡, the host brings out three burning gitchō [毬杖] (small round pieces of charcoal around 2-sun long, and 1-sun 5-bu in diameter; this initial set of three was, as mentioned above, referred to as the sa-gitchō). These were deliberately kept as small as possible to avoid heating the room. However, because of that, if the guests are late, the gitchō will begin to burn out, and may not be strong enough to kindle the charcoal that will be added during the sumi-temae [炭手前] at the beginning of the shoza. Which is even more serious than when the ro was being used**. __________ *The first fire was laid in the ro at dawn, with the charcoal arranged on top of a layer of embers that the host had saved from the previous day’s fire. This fire would bring the kama to a boil, and then begin to die down around the time when the guests would be arriving for a morning gathering, during which it would be rebuilt.

But if there was no morning gathering, the host would go into the tea room around noon and add more charcoal to the fire (even though no guests were present). This would return the kama to a boil, and keep it hot until dusk. (Traditionally, gatherings were not held between the forenoon and dusk. The so-called shogō-chaji [正午茶事] is a relatively recent innovation; originally gatherings were typically held either in the morning, asa-cha [朝茶], or at night, the yo-banashi [夜咄]: this is why the old tea writings only discuss these two varieties of chakai. Business men and government officials are busy during the daytime.)

At dusk the host would again enter the tea room. First he would take the kama back to the mizuya, where it would be emptied, cleaned, and refilled with fresh water that had been stored in the mizuya since dawn. Then he would remove all of the fire, clean the interior of the ro, and sprinkle shimeshi-bai [湿し灰] (damp ash), and then return several pieces of burning charcoal, to serve as the shita-bi for the new fire.

After arranging a full set of charcoal, he would bring the kama back from the mizuya, and place it in the ro. The fire would heat the kama to boiling, and then begin to decline by the time guests arrived for the evening chakai. The fire that was repaired during the shoza would keep the kama boiling until the end of the night gathering.

After the guests left (or, if there were no guests, around 10:00 PM), the host would empty the ro, and close up the tea room for the night.

This practice of adding charcoal at dawn, mid-day, and dusk (at times when guests were almost never present), was called san-tan [三炭], and it was fundamental to the success of the day’s chanoyu.

Sometimes guests would ask to come at dawn or dusk, since at both of those times, the host would be starting with a fresh fire, but these were special occasions (and bear little resemblance to the dawn and dusk gatherings that have been formalized by the modern schools).

†There used to be an exception to this practice during the rainy season (since it can become quite chilly). At that time, a large iron Dōan-buro [道安風爐] was used, with a narrow kama suspended over it on jizai or chain (this is why this particular kind of furo has an especially wide U-shaped opening in front -- in case the kama sways when it is being lifted down). In this case, this large furo was handled as if it were a ro, with the fire laid at dawn, and then periodically replenished throughout the day. Just like the ro, the hibashi, albeit shorter, were made with wooden handles, and shimeshi-bai was sprinkled in this furo.

Also, some people even used neri-kō [練り香] (of the seasonal blend known as jijū [侍従], which is strongly based on jin-kō, aloes wood, and cloves) or just jin-kō [沈香], rather than byakudan [白檀] (because of the moldy smell that can develop in the tatami after many days of rain).

However, though the general procedures that were followed at this time were similar to what was done with the ro, during the koicha temae, the mizusashi must still be opened at the proper time, and cold water added to the kama (to cool the water prior to the blending of the koicha) -- since this is done not on account of the heat, but because the tea that was picked the previous year will now be becoming weak, so excessively hot water will destroy its flavor.

‡Today some people say that the host should wait until the guests actually enter the koshi-kake before putting the shita-bi into the furo, but this is really too late -- since, shortly after they enter, the host should go out to refresh the water in the tsukubai, after which he invites them to enter the room. For them to sit in the koshi-kake, waiting for the host to appear for a long time, is unseemly.

**For this reason, Jōō held that the ro should be used all year round in the small room. Rikyū observed the same rule until the summer of 1586, when he used the small unryū-gama (arranged in the large Temmyō kimen-buro that had belonged to Yoshimasa, and then Nobunaga) when serving tea in the two mat room that he erected near the Hakozaki-gū (at that time, outside of the Korean city-state of Hakata).

¹⁹This gāthā [गाथा] was composed by the nineteenth century monk Shiseki oshō [紫石和尚; 1842 ~ 1914].

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