ようこそ! Welcome to my Japanese aesthetics mini-series. This is my second series to date (click here for Japanese Shorts), and I thought that this time I would dig deep and tackle a pretty hefty subject face on. I’ve been giving this subject much thought for quite a while now, and there have been a million times throughout that process when I’ve felt like picking up my Mac and chucking it head long out the window. Furrowed brows and strong cups of tea have been my panacea throughout this, but, at last, this labour of love is ready for your viewing delight. Please feel free to throw your two penneth in, this topic is wide-open to debate. I do not profess to being an expert and have taken much joy in cocking it up and getting myself tied in knots along the way, so please feel free to pick holes where necessary.

As well as being the most misspelled religion philosophy in the world (* that is not based in fact, but I always spell the darn thing wrong!), Buddishm Buddism Buddhism has a lot to answer for. Its introduction to Japan gave way not only to a new way of thinking, but literally enhanced and reconstituted the very fabric of the land. Japan, against all the claims of homogony, is actually built up like a patchwork quilt, represented through a multi-faceted array of divisional enhancements, all pushing and pulling like tectonic plates. Its history is vast, its customs and traditions built up over a millennia, but Buddhism seemed to cut through that like the best sharpened pair of scissors imaginable.

Sure, art and aesthetic appeal were around well before Buddhism, it would be insane to think any different, but for definite, Buddhism began to shape the way Japanese people perceived the very essence of beauty itself. Its most foundered principles were the Three Marks of Existence: impermanence, suffering and not-self. Without getting caught in the quicksand of religious jargon, the most prominent Mark to grow and develop in Japan was that of impermanence, the idea that nothing was in a solid state, that everything was in a state of flux, ever-changing, developing, moulding.

From this ideology, ‘wabisabi’ was born. To say that these two words are difficult to translate is like attempting a flight to Jupiter when all you have available is a giant catapult with ‘ACME’ written down the side. However, not making any effort to translate would render this post pretty useless, so here goes:

The problem with these translations however is that, in English, ‘imperfection’ has negative connotations, however the very essence of ‘wabi’ is that it is the imperfections that make something desirable, aesthetically sound, even, dare I say it, perfect, perhaps? Asymmetry, here, is key. For ‘sabi’ then, we have problems in that ‘quality’ and ‘imperfection’ are not partners that Western culture will allow to share a bed. In fact, you only have to look to the endless magazines targeted at teenage girls and it is plain to see: ‘imperfection’ does not cut it. Furthermore, the ‘passing of time’ in Western culture would denote something bad, something which we attempt at every given venture to slow and stall. The aging of humans is a bone of huge contention, and one which is worth a fortune, however ‘sabi’ says that beauty is possible and is further enhanced through the aging process, through patina. It’s not by chance then, that the etymology of ‘sabi’ is closely linked to that of the Japanese word for ‘rust’, also pronounced ‘sabi’.

But it goes further than that. It says: ‘why does something have to be ornate, to be an ornament?’ ‘Why does somebody have to wear make-up to feel made up?’ ‘Why is asymmetry not symmetrical?’ It is not that these things are not valued, just that the plainest, ever so slightly imperfect object, is far more fascinating than all of the above: falling autumn leaves, a rusting pipe, a slightly off-circular plate. And what a stark contrast this mindset is to the way Western civilization views the self, same thing. Put yourself in an auction room. A Picasso is up next. People are literally falling over each to get near to it. Bids are flying in from all sides. Exorbitant amounts of cash pass hands. The new owner can be seen, salivating from his yacht in Monaco. Where Western civilization made art and the beautiful a luxury, Japanese aesthetics were placed in the normal, the everyday. Where Westerners created an entire subject in isolation, the Japanese appear to have integrated aesthetic beauty into their everyday lives, into their subconscious, into their society, their politics, their vision.

All that said of course, fast-forward eight hundred years: Japanese aesthetics are definitely not something left in the dark ages. Japan continues to be one of the fastest moving countries in the world, where development and technological advancement are second nature. In that vein, has the methodology behind Japanese aesthetics altered, or do the changes that we see in Japan today embody the very principle of impermanence? Do Japanese people care about ‘wabi’, or ‘sabi’, or neither? Do Japanese people actually know what these things mean? Can there possibly be space for these ideals in a world that has changed beyond recognition, where people strive everyday for ‘perfection’? In this world full of Nicole Basingers, Julia Kidmans and Kym Roberts, where iMacs render grown men senseless, where minimalist kitchen appliances make grown women weep, where beauty is not seen by its beholder, but by everybody, for scrutiny by everybody, can ‘wabisabi’ actually work? And if not, what does that mean for present day aesthetics in Japan? Is there such thing? In deed, what are the Three Marks of the modern world?

Come on, let’s find out..

Check back next week for some answers to some of the questions posed, in the first subject episode of the series, Episode #2: Language