". The temple's name is synonymous with the temple's famous Zen garden, the
karesansui (dry landscape)
rock garden, thought to have been built in the late 15th century. The garden is a rectangle of , twenty-five meters by ten meters. Placed within it are fifteen stones of different sizes, carefully composed in five groups; one group of five stones, two groups of three, and two groups of two stones. The stones are surrounded by white gravel, which is carefully raked each day by the monks. The only vegetation in the garden is some moss around the stones. The dry garden is composed of fifteen stones. From the viewing veranda it is not possible to observe all fifteen from one perspective, with at least one stone remaining hidden from view. The garden is meant to be viewed from a seated position on the veranda of the
hōjō, the residence of the abbot of the monastery. The stones are placed so that the entire composition cannot be seen at once from the veranda. The wall behind the garden is an important element of the garden. It is made of clay, which has been stained by age with subtle brown and orange tones. In 1977, the tile roof of the wall was restored with tree bark to its original appearance. The garden had particular significance for the composer
John Cage, who composed a series of works and made visual art works based on it.
Meaning of the garden Like any work of art, the artistic garden of Ryōan-ji is also open to interpretation or research into possible meanings. Many different theories have been put forward inside and outside Japan about what the garden is supposed to represent, from islands in a stream,
a tiger family crossing a river, mountain peaks, to theories about secrets of geometry or the rules of equilibrium of odd numbers. Garden historian Gunter Nitschke wrote: "The garden at Ryōan-ji does not symbolize anything, or more precisely, to avoid any misunderstanding, the garden of Ryōan-ji does not symbolize, nor does it have the value of reproducing a natural beauty that one can find in the real or mythical world. I consider it to be an abstract composition of 'natural' objects in space, a composition whose function is to incite meditation."
Scientific analysis of the garden In an article published by the science journal
Nature, Gert van Tonder and Michael Lyons analyze the rock garden by generating a model of
shape analysis (
medial axis) in early visual processing. Using this model, they show that the empty space of the garden is implicitly structured, and is aligned with the temple's
architecture. According to the researchers, one critical
axis of symmetry passes close to the centre of the main hall, which is the traditionally preferred viewing point. In essence, viewing the placement of the stones from a sightline along this point brings a shape from nature (a dichotomously branched tree with a mean branch length decreasing monotonically from the trunk to the tertiary level) in relief. The researchers propose that the implicit structure of the garden is designed to appeal to the viewer's unconscious visual sensitivity to axial-symmetry skeletons of stimulus shapes. In support of their findings, they found that imposing a
random perturbation of the locations of individual rock features destroyed the special characteristics. Centuries after its creation, the influences of the dry elements at Ryōan-ji continue to be reflected and re-examined in garden design—for example, in the
Japangarten at the
Kunstmuseum Wolfsburg in Germany.
Other gardens '', the basin provided for ritual washing of the hands and mouth While the rock garden is the best-known garden of Ryōan-ji, the temple also has a water garden; the Kyoyochi Pond, built in the 12th century as part of the Fujiwara estate. Cherry trees have recently been planted northwest of the pond. Ryōan-ji also has a teahouse and tea garden, dating to the 17th century. Near the teahouse is a famous stone water basin, with water continually flowing for ritual purification. This is the Ryōan-ji
tsukubai, which translates as "crouch"; because of the low height of the basin, the user must bend over to use it, in a sign of reverence and humility. The
kanji written on the surface of the stone basin, 五, 隹, 止, 矢, are without significance when read alone. Though the water basin's frame is circular, the opening in the circular face is itself a square (口). If each of the four kanji is read in combination with 口 (the square-shaped
radical is pronounced
kuchi, meaning "mouth" or "aperture"), which the square opening is meant to represent, then the characters become 吾, 唯, 足, 知. This is read as "ware, tada taru (wo) shiru", which translates literally as "I only sufficiency know" (吾 = ware = I, 唯 = tada = merely, only, 足 = taru = be sufficient, suffice, be enough, be worth, deserve, 知 = shiru = know) or, more poetically, as "I know only satisfaction". Intended to reinforce Buddhist teachings regarding humility and the abundance within one's soul, the meaning is simple and clear: "one already has all one needs". Meanwhile, the positioning of the
tsukubai, lower than the veranda on which one stands to view it, compels one to bow respectfully (while listening to the endless trickle of replenishing water from the bamboo pipe) to fully appreciate its deeper philosophical significance. The
tsukubai also embodies a subtle form of Zen teaching using ironic
juxtaposition: while the
shape mimics an ancient
Chinese coin, the
sentiment is the opposite of
materialism. Thus, over many centuries, the
tsukubai has also served as a humorous visual
koan for countless monks residing at the temple, gently reminding them daily of their
vow of poverty. Notwithstanding the exquisite
kare sansui rock garden on the opposite side of the building, the less-photographed Ryōan-ji tea garden is another cultural treasure of the temple. ==Images==