The way of tea

The way of tea
By Fanny Dassie, CONTRIBUTOR
738 words
18 October 2007
The Oakland Tribune
English
(c) Copyright 2007 ANG Newspapers. All rights reserved.

SHOZO SATO, dressed in a kimono, kneels in front of a kettle and buries his hand into his thin black and gray suit, pulling out a purple, napkin-size silk cloth. He delicately uses the fukusa to methodically clean a tea scoop and container.

"It's a purification of utensils and minds," says Sato, a teacher of tea gathering ceremonies who demonstrates the "way of tea" at museums and tea houses across the United States and Europe.

The Japanese tea ceremony, as presented at the Asian Art Museum and in homes and tea houses around the Bay Area, is an artistic discipline that expresses cultural aspects such as creating an atmosphere of respect and sincerity between guests and hosts. It's also seen as a way to link meditation and spiritual training with sustenance.

The tea ritual was imported from China to Japan in 1200 AD and introduced through Buddhism before being integrated into Japanese society.

Sato's lessons illustrate that traditional tea preparation and serving must follow specific and stringent rules that are usually unknown to the average tea consumer.

For many tea drinkers, the simple act of pouring water over a tea bag has no artistic or spiritual value.

"I use tea bags when I am thirsty, but when I want a spiritual

awakening, I go through the tea ceremony," Sato says.

In Japan, the tea ceremony is a ritualized event that demands constant attention, patience, precision and a natural calmness and softness in the gestures.

Christi Soei Bartlett, director of the San Francisco Urasenke Foundation, says tea practitioners seek "a sense of community and an understanding of everyday life." The tea ritual, associated with Zen, encourages people to take time to relax and enjoy their tea.

Hosting a traditional tea ceremony is an art. The host has to create an appropriate atmosphere by choosing complementary fresh flowers and paintings, depending on the season and the mood of the moment.

The Asian Art Museum offers public tea ceremonies five times a year.

At a recent ceremony, each guest removes his shoes before trampling the tatami. They then tiptoe toward an alcove, kneel, cross their feet, bow and meditate before heading to an area decorated with flowers and paintings chosen by the host.

The host for the day, Sato, appears through a white sliding door, offering tea sweets. One by one, to create drama, the tea utensils are cleaned with the silk cloth — purple for men and orange or red for women. There's a transparent blue bowl full of cold water that is covered by a leaf, usually from the host's garden, as well as a tea scoop, a transparent white glass bowl and a bamboo whisk.

"We don't talk too much in the tea room," Sato explains. "If we talk, it's only about tea."

The host uses the tea scoop to place a small amount of green powdery tea into the white bowl. Hot water is delicately poured over the powder, which will be mixed with the whisk.

Only after a meticulous inspection is the tea consumed. Sato explains that the taste can be better sustained if the host breathes and makes a sound

while drinking the beverage because the oxygen acts to boost the taste.

At the completion of the ceremony, the scoop and containers are cleaned by the host and examined by the guests. The host then removes, again one by one, all of the utensils.

Yuko Matsumoto, an Oakland resident who participated in the ceremony at the Asian, drinks six or seven cups a day.

She used to participate in such ceremonies while growing up in Japan.

"I associate tea with tranquility," she says.