Kyoto, Day Two

We headed to the Ginkakuji, or Silver Pavilion Temple, the next day.  It is a Zen temple first built in 1482 by Ashikaga Yoshimasa (the 8th Muromachi Shogunate, if that means anything to anyone except Matt).  He modeled it after his grandfather's Kinkakuji, or Golden Pavilion Temple.  Both are considered World Cultural Heritage Sites and National Treasures.  The last time Matt visited Japan he stopped by the Golden Pavilion and was greatly unimpressed, so we decided to see the Silver Pavilion instead.  I can't speak to the pros or cons of the Golden Pavilion, but I will say that the Silver Pavilion was one of the more breathtaking and awe-inspiring sights I've seen in Japan, so I am happy with our choice.

We went with our friends Alan and Steve again, and two more people (Jake and his wife Rieko, friends of Alan who live in Tokyo) met up with us there.  They had hung out with us the other night at the Kannon temple and the Kiyomizu dera, and it was fun to see them again.  We made a fun and boisterous group.


The Ginkakuji visually celebrated and defined the "Zen aesthetic." I had never seen it illustrated so well and so completely before.  It was also my first time seeing the intricate raked sand gardens.  The entrance to the temple is a long corridor lined with tall, trimmed trees with large red flowers.  Around a corner the vista opens up on a stone walkway shining silver in the sun, and gates through which is visible the first of many sand gardens (see pictures one and two of this post).  The trees are elegantly sculpted, pruned to exact Zen specifications using methods that would seem to take the patience of Zen to put into practice (they take a long time to manifest any results).  This is still the entryway to the temple.  Walking the path around this first garden leads to another set of gates, through which is the true wonderland.

The picture to the left is a sand creation called Kougetsudai, or "pedestal that faces the moon". It is a visual representation of Mt. Fuji.  Set back behind it is the pavilion itself, seen here through the gardens that cover the grounds.


The sand garden continues into a sand ocean.  From the Kougetsudai stretches white sand sculpted to resemble waves.  This is called the Ginsyadan and is the main sand garden inside the temple grounds.

We continued on our walk of the grounds, which went farther and were more beautiful than we imagined.  All around us were trees, glistening moss, small streams, all arranged with the greatest care.


Our walk took us up a little way so we could look over the gardens and a bit of the city.  Most glorious: the view of the Silver Pavilion shining in the sun.  It lived up to its name and provided a fantastic sight.  We were lucky; soon after we descended again into the mossy hills, the sunlight faded and the interminable chill returned to Kyoto.

Rieko commented that the Golden Pavilion was built for the purpose of showing off wealth and status, and that it looked overblown, pompous, and posturing as a result.  She saw the Silver Pavilion like I did: a view into the heart of Zen culture, something that valued true beauty and simplicity, and sought to exist as a testament and extension of nature.  The gardens inspire peace as much as awe, and require constant attention and devotion to maintain.  Seeing this temple showed me the heart of Japanese Buddhism and the art of Zen.  Fittingly, afterwards we walked the "Philosopher's Walk" path, ruminating on our experiences, taken in by the beauty of cherry blossoms.