The Spirit Of Western Bonsai

Attila

This may be a sidetrack, but lately I stumbled into the above statement in various forms. The classic one is that the moment when we start believing that we know something, we stop learning. The moment we think we know the answer, we lose sight of the truth.
To me, although it sounded very "wise", it seemed to be a paradox and contradiction, without any meaning in real life.

Two weeks ago this changed, when I realized how true it is.

I was standing with my wife on a cliff near the ocean, when a giant bird flew by. It came so close that we felt the breeze coming from its wings. It had a 3 meter (9 feet) wingspan. My wife and I were trying to figure out what bird could that be.

I closed my eyes and saw the colour of the feathers, the white stipe underneath its wings, the shape and colour of the head. I could almost envision every little detail, as I was searching for the answer.
Then, someone came by and mentioned that the bird is a California condor because it had a tag on the wing, and only condors are tagged in this area.

As soon as I felt I know the answer, I didn't care about the bird anymore. I stopped imagining how it looked, I labeled it and neatly stored it in one of my mental boxes. "I can look it up in a book if I want to", I said to myself. To me it stopped to be a real flesh and blood creature, it became just another name with all the stereotypes associated with it.

That's when I realized, that when we think we know, we stop searching, we stop looking, we stop experiencing with the five senses. It becomes dead, academical, semantical.

I wish that the person didn't tell me the name with such a finality. Then, I would still be thinking about the majestic, mysterious bird and wondering what it was.

Regards,
Attila

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JLDoggett

In speaking of the western spirit of bonsai in comparison to the Japanese spirit is to compare lemons and limes. Two things closely related, having almost the same nomenclature but a major difference in taste. I submt that to expect all westerners to revere and or even appreciate the tastes of a different culture is an impossibility. Just as the reverse would also be true. No culture in history has willingly adopted, without change, another societies tastes, mores or art.

Think on the history of bonsai. From its start in ancient China as a pleasant diversion for those living in palaces, it has been considered an art form. Albeit for the wealthy and most high-born of China, who could afford both the space to erect there tranquil gardens, and the gardeners needed to maintain them. Next it moved to Japan, (we will leave out the hon-non-bo of Viet Nam, also considered a type of bonsai) a land with a Janus-like history of quiet contemplation and bloody warfare. Here during centuries of isolationism and dictatorial rule , bonsai became a high art, refined and codified, eventually matching the strictness of the society that “perfected” it. Approximately one hundred-twenty years ago it took hold in the west, as part of the founding imagery of the Arte Nouveau, when anything and everything Japanese became the rage. From that day forward occidental bonsai has been gradually evolving, until similar to the lemon and the lime with their mutual evolutionary antecedents but strikingly differing tastes, it has become a complete art in its own right.

To a certain extent our preferences and prejudices have affected the styles of today, as has the ever diminishing periods of free-time needed to become a true connoisseur (not to mention that few of us keep a gardener). We reverence what we see that suits our eye, often blithely ignorant of its past, or even willingly so. We ascribe attributes to a technique that represent but a part of the true history, just as we tend to forget negative aspects. Recently I experience the same comments being made in two very different places The U.S. Capitol Building and the Roman Coliseum. “Wow, the engineering that went into building this! How did they do it so long ago?” was the statement, my reply, “It is amazing what you can do with slave labor”. These people were blinded to the history by the splendor and magnitude their eyes beheld.

Here in the West, some have attempted to break from the past, to being afresh, keeping that which is true to modern life and the lives of trees, but dismissing that which is felt to be archaic and inelegant. The verbiage has remained unchanged but the attitudes have evolved. Bonsai has become democratic, available to the common man in a way that was unthinkable a century ago. The trees used need not be the trees of the orient, the trunks may not be thick, obtuse triangles, fattened for the pot similar to French geese for fois gras. Styles may come and go, things such as shari and jinn will fall in and out of favor, but what ultimately unites us is our love for the trees we tend.

Christine

great thread here. Attilla, Walter, Fred, Ripssurf, and others- As I read though the posts, a lot of thoughts came into my mind--but most were written up by one or another of you along the way. However a song lyric keeps coming into my head, by one of my favorite artists

"Men go crazy in congregations, they only get better one by one"

Sting, on 'Soul Cages' 1991

I think bonsai kinda works like that-

regards,
Christine

Walter_Pall

Hey Christine,

great that you found us. Good to hear from you.

best regards
Walter Pall
http://walter-pall.de