瀑松庭 BAKUSHŌTEI
IMABARI KOKUSAI HOTEL
IMABARI, EHIME PREFECTURE, 1996
The garden at the Imabari Kokusai Hotel completely fills the outdoor spaces, connecting the various hotel spaces visually and physically.
The lobby of the Imabari Kokusai Hotel affords a view of two parts of the Bakushōtei, or Garden of the Great Waterfall and Pine Trees. Immediately adjacent is a karesansui (dry) garden designed as an extension of the lobby. A polished granite curb contains the white shirakawa-suna (literally “White River sand,” or pea gravel) weaving between the rough strips of aji-ishi (a type of granite from Shikoku Island, also known as diamond granite). Low mounds with ground cover and maple trees anchor the dry garden to the building, as the main garden expands out from a level below and slopes upward toward the opposite traditionally designed wing of the hotel.
The strips of rough rock in the dry garden are mimicked in the horizontal layers of pea gravel, rock, and falling water of the main garden. Taking advantage of the natural steep slope of the land, the garden is designed with three separate waterfalls. Shunmyo Masuno designed the movement of the water across the site to have a calming effect. This relaxing atmosphere is punctuated by the largest fall, the thundering Great Waterfall, which “produces echoes deep in the body.”1 This combination of dynamism and calmness is a hallmark of the garden.
Two enormous stone planks join together to create a bridge over the river of pea gravel, allowing visitors to move through the garden to the traditional washitsu (Japanese-style rooms) of the private dining wing.
The stone path and bridge meander through the garden past the smooth gravel river, rocky coastlines, and mossy hillsides toward the traditional wing of the hotel.
Small metal lanterns cast a soft glow over the garden, illuminating the path and creating a picturesque evening scene.
Inspired by the landscape of the Inland Sea, the plantings and rock groupings are arranged among the waterfalls and streams to suggest the nearby scenery. The hotel building surrounds the garden on three sides, with a traditional teahouse tucked into the greenery in the upper garden on the open side. Standing symbolically near the center of the garden, a beautiful red pine acts as focal point. When viewed from anywhere within the hotel or while moving through the garden, the composition of water, rocks, and plants is well balanced and evokes a strong sensory response. The garden is created to change with the seasons—the azaleas bloom in the late spring and early summer, the maple trees from Kyoto turn red in the autumn, while the pine trees remain green throughout the year.
The garden is designed for strolling as well as seated viewing, and a path pieced together with large stones leads through it over a sturdy aji-ishi bridge and through smooth expanses of pea gravel among the rocks and trees. Stepping-stones mark the way through the foliage to the teahouse, where the garden becomes denser and more inwardly focused, and views back to the hotel are blocked by the trees. The design of the roji (inner garden path) leading to the teahouse emphasizes tranquility and simplicity within the dynamism of the larger garden. Near the teahouse, water springs forth from a low carved rock reminiscent of a chōzubachi (water basin) and flows down into the garden, winding through streams and passing over the various waterfalls. At the lowest part of the garden, tucked under the dry garden that extends out from the lobby, the water gathers its force in a thunderous drop over a tall wall of rough rock. The Great Waterfall is framed in the windows of the restaurant on the level below the lobby, visually revealing to patrons what others above can only hear and feel but not see, and creating yet another changing view of this expansive garden.
Conveying a strong sense of movement, the powerful waterfall is juxtaposed with the black pine trees expressing stillness.
Rounded stepping-stones move from the garden under the eaves of the traditional teahouse and up to the small square nijiri-guchi (“crawl-in entrance”).
Connecting the interior of the teahouse to the garden, stepping-stones progress through multiple layers of space embodied by different materials on the ground.
龍門庭 RYŪMONTEI
GIONJI TEMPLE
MITO, IBARAKI PREFECTURE, 1999
A river of raked gravel gives the feeling of expanding beyond the boundaries, while the tall garden wall and a closely trimmed hedge separate the Ryūmontei garden from the main garden at the Gionji temple.
Set within a larger garden at the Gionji Zen temple, a plastered garden wall and trimmed tall hedges contain the space of the smaller Ryūmontei garden. The garden features an arrangement of rocks suggestive of a ryūmonbaku waterfall, from which the garden gets its name. Literally meaning “dragon’s gate waterfall,” the ryūmonbaku represents a carp trying to climb up the cascades and pass through the “dragon’s gate” (ryūmon), an expression referring to disciplined Zen training on the path to enlightenment. The waterfall is one of many typical design devices of traditional Japanese gardens in Ryūmontei, which also include an ocean of raked shirakawa-suna (white pea gravel) dotted with islands of contrasting rough rocks and varied plantings to give color throughout the different seasons. The garden incorporates an additional layer of symbolic meaning, relating specifically to the founding of Gionji. The main tateishi (standing rock) represents the temple founder, Toko Shinetsu, lecturing to his disciple Mito Mitsukuni, also a monk and temple founder. This layer of symbolism, represented through the physical form of certain stones and incorporated into the overall garden design, ties the garden to the history of the temple and makes it unique to that place.
Raked pea gravel follows the contours of the rock “islands” and moss “shoreline,” creating movement and pattern in the foreground of the garden.
The river of gravel in the karesansui (dry) garden starts from the ryūmonbaku (“dragon’s gate waterfall”) near the garden wall and flows under the stone plank bridge toward the temple building.
The garden, designed to be viewed while seated on the tatami (woven grass mats) floor of the sukiya-style Shiuntai reception hall, opens out in front of the viewer in a series of spatial layers connecting the interior of the building to the outside. The exposed wood column-and-beam structure, together with the floor and the eaves of the structure, frames views of the garden. Sliding shoji (wood lattice screens covered with translucent paper) panels at the edge of the tatami-matted room slip away to reveal the deep wood floor of the veranda-like engawa, which aids in connecting the inside space of the building to the exterior space of the garden. Running parallel to the building, a row of dark gravel is partly hidden from view by the engawa. A double row of roof tiles, standing on end, separates the dark gravel from the expanse of smaller white shirakawa-suna that creates the foreground of the garden. The raked pea gravel, flowing around the rock islands and lapping at the edge of a low artificial mound, is an extension of the dry waterfall. Located in a far corner of the garden, on the