The following is a tangent inspired by this morning's plum blossom viewing. See the Jan. 15th entry for context.
Over the next few weeks this plum blossom tree is going to be covered in flowers, but I think this stage is the prettiest--the tree is still relatively bare, which makes the subtle little blossoms even more lovely. It is a reticent, restrained sort of beauty; imperfect, transient, even withered. It illustrates some of the classical principles of Japanese aesthetics, as I understand them. My knowledge of these is limited, but drawing upon what I learned from my art of Zen class last semester, I can make a limited explanation.
The scarcity of the blossoms exemplifies yojo, a 12th century ideal of Japanese poetry, in which words cannot express the full depth of one’s emotions, so they should be sparse and reserved, and only flavor the work with the poet’s intended sentiments. Yojo hones the power of that which is left unsaid. When it applies to visual phenomena, yojo (and the intertwined concept of yugen--this specific type of subtlety) describes a kind of reserved, reticent beauty.
The dry leaves and bare branches embody shiore, the ideal of ‘cold, withered beauty.’ The concept was elaborated and articulated by Zeami, one of the great masters of Noh, which is a form of traditional Japanese theatre. Noh is described as a kind of "elegant dance-drama," and its history is closely tied to Zen. Indeed, Zeami belonged to the 'Eastern Hills Culture,' the 15th-century cadre of artists and scholars surrounding Ashikaga no Yoshimasa who refined the Zen arts into their current canon. The highest form of Noh, according to Zeami, is the Noh of mushin or ''no-mind,' which is the ultimate goal of Zen. It maintains a 'wordless' beauty, imperfect, even emaciated. Zenchiku, one of Zeami's successors, likens this aesthetic to an old cherry blossom tree, weathered by time, putting forth a few sparse blossoms. So I think there's some parity.
The overall effect is one of ‘imperfect beauty’: in the Tsurezuregusa (‘Essays on Idleness’), the 14th century commentator Yoshida Kenko wrote, “Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with faded flowers are worthier of our admiration [than cherry blossoms in full bloom]… in all things it is the beginnings and ends that are interesting.” This tree has a wonderful coexistence of both: a few dead leaves about to fall, a plentitude of latent blossoms still hidden in fattened buds.
