Ginkakuji -
The Bonfires of Kyoto

There is not an inch of silver to be found on the Silver Pavilion in Kyoto's Eastern Hills, and that is a good thing. Thanks to the fact that the Onin War had depleted the coffers of the eight Ashikaga Shogun, Yoshimasa (1436-1490), he was not able to imitate the extravagance of his grandfather, who had built the famous Golden Pavilion...

At Ginkakuji, the two-storied pavilion is of plain brown wood. Ginkakuji is more ascetic, more Zen than its golden predecessor. In contrast to the open pleasure grounds with the lake for boating of Kinkakuji, here the garden is shut off from the world. It is a refuge and a shelter. No wonder that one of Yoshimasa's acquaintances, Murata Shuko, created the tea ceremony here: Japan's oldest tea room can be found in Ginkakuji.

I visit Ginkakuji on the day in summer that the famous bonfire will be lighted on the hill above it. The temple that can normally be visited is in fact not more than a pond garden with a few closed halls, among which the Silver Pavilion. The garden is not very big and as usual, even on this hot day, there are too many visitors. Although less popular than the Golden Pavilion, the narrow garden paths are crowded and too many voices break the contemplative atmosphere.

Cicadas cry in the high trees as I walk along the approachway lined with fences consisting of stone, bamboo and hedge. This corridor is quite ingenious: you walk between high hedges and the path seems to end in the distance at another hedge. Only when you come closer, you find out that a left turn leads to the temple gate.

Garden and Togudo Hall

Pavilions on a Pond
Built in 1479, the Pavilion's upper story contains a Kannon image. This floor is in the Zen-style, with bell-shaped windows. The ground floor is in Shoin-style, the manner of aristocratic residences. In the Togudo Hall standing on the north side of the pond reputedly sits an effigy of Yoshimasa in the garb of a priest, staring out of glassy eyes. Yoshimasa probably used the Togudo as his living quarters after he retired to the villa. The tearoom, in a corner of this same building, is of the four and a half mat size that became standard for all later ceremonial tea rooms. From there, a corridor leads to the Roseitei Pavilion at the back where Yoshimasa held incense parties.

The pond garden - attributed to Soami - is lush, its boulder arrangements are intricate. The pine trees at the back provide a stately contrast. In the upper garden is a well from which tea water used to be drawn. And in front of the Silver Pavilion is the most characteristic element of the garden: a karesansui element, consisting of a flat area of raked sand, like a sea with billowing waves, and a Fuji-like truncated cone beside it.

The verandah of of the Togudo Hall is a good place from which to contemplate this strange combination of dry sand and lush vegetation. Why would there be such a patch of bare sand? I remember a possible explanation I have read somewhere: to reflect the moonlight. Yoshimasa viewed the garden at night from the pavilion and as it lies in the darkness among tall trees, he had the sandy area installed to reflect the moonlight and "light up" the garden.

And this - my thoughts go - might also be the meaning of the name "Silver Pavilion:" not a precious metal, but the silvery moonlight reflected on the garden by the sand. That makes it a silver pavilion in the highest aesthetic sense of the word.

The silver sand

War and Retreat
The Onin Wars (1467-1477) form one of the most senseless and also most destructive conflicts Japan has ever known. The city of Kyoto was the actual battlefield and large part of its cultural heritage was destroyed in the fighting. If you have ever wondered why so few buildings from before 1500 exist in Kyoto, well, here is one of the answers. The war broke out because of a succession conflict in the shogunal family. The eight shogun Yoshimasa was childless and had promised his younger brother the shogunal seat, but suddenly retracted this promise when he after all fathered a son in 1465. The whole aristocracy lined up behind the one or the other, undoubtedly hoping for rewards themselves. Kyoto went up in flames. Ironically, although Yoshimasa's son became shogun when Yoshimasa abdicated in 1473, the brother's son became the next shogun in 1489, underlining the senselessness of the whole affair.

Yoshimasa had started construction of the Higashiyama-dono, a retirement palace in the Eastern Hills in 1460, and here the Silver Pavilion was built as a Kannon Hall. The palace comprised a total of 14 buildings and a large garden. It was Yoshimasa's escape from the ravages of the war and from 1483 he started living here permanently. Until his death in 1490 he watched Noh plays, hosted the tea ceremony and enjoyed incense sniffing and other esthetic activities. Kyoto around him lay in ruins and in various parts of the country the war raged on, but Yoshimasa fled in beauty. As in the case of his grandfather's Kinkakuji, also Ginkakuji was turned into a Zen temple after Yoshimasa's death. The name, Jishoji, was Yoshimasa's Buddhist name.

The silver mound

Fires on the Hill
Today is August 16, the day of Daimonji, when five huge bonfires will be lit in the evening on Kyoto's eastern and northern hills. In mid-August the spirits of the deceased return to the earth for a brief visit. They are welcomed with offerings on the Buddhist home altars, but on the 16th they must depart again and the fires are meant to guide them back to the other world.

The main fire will be lit on the hillside above the Silver Pavilion, where I now sit. A huge shape of the Chinese character Dai, "big," has been encrusted on the hill face. The horizontal stroke measures 80 meters across, the longer vertical stroke is a full 160 meters.

A small temple, Jodo-in, next to the entrance of Ginkakuji is in charge of the bonfire ceremony. When I pass, on tables put in the street pieces of pinewood called gomagi are sold. People write wishes on them, asking for peace of the departed, health for the living. These wooden tablets will then be burnt on the bonfire in the evening, together with 600 bundles of pine wood. From behind Jodo-in, a trail leads up the hill to the Dai shape.

That evening, I watch the bonfires from the Izumobashi Bridge on the Kamo River, close to the Shimogamo Shrine. It is one of the best places to see the fires. There is an unimpeded view of the hill above the Silver Pavilion and I can put my camera on one of the bridge's parapets to take pictures. The streetlights have been extinguished, a hush lies over the city. The air is heavy with anticipation.

Suddenly a small light flares up in the core of the character Dai. It is the central fire pit that is set ablaze. Within one minute, the other 75 pits that form the character shape are lit simultaneously and the Dai character jumps up from the surrounding darkness. The fires are so bright that I can see small human shapes moving around them.

Ten minutes later, on another hill further north in Kyoto the characters for Myo Ho, "Supreme (Buddhist) Law," are lighted, followed by a gentle boat shape. There are also a smaller Dai on the hill above the Golden Pavilion and a Shinto gate, but these two are not visible from where I stand.

Daimonji's Bonfire

An Esthetic Retreat
Apparently, the annual Bon rites started in Yoshimasa's time, on behalf of the victims of the wars and epidemics that raged in those years. The Shogun is depicted as a kind of Nero, enjoying himself in the seclusion of his pavilion, while the city was dying because of misgovernment. But to me, Ginkakuji is not the place designed by a man who could have been that insensitive.

Perhaps Yoshimasa knew he was powerless to stem the chaos and anarchy gripping the country. There are times that the world just wants to go to pieces, as if bent on its own destruction. Then, the only way open to a sensitive being is a retreat, in an effort to save a small enclave of culture.

On the riverbank below me, women in blue yukatas start a Bon dance, walking in circle, swaying their arms. I hear fragments of the song, the tapping of a large drum.

And myriads of souls are being sent off, to be sucked up again by the cold dark space from which they have come.