Wabi-Sabi

[randy_byers]

When I was in college, my girlfriend, Molly, told me about the Japanese concept of "wabi," as she called it. I think she learned about it in a class, but she might have learned it on her own since she had an interest in things Japanese and covered our bedroom floor in tatami mats and wanted to learn how to do the tea ceremony. In any event, what I brought away from our conversations about wabi is that it was a technique of purposefully introducing an imperfection into a work of art as a way of accentuating the beauty of the whole. I was fascinated by the thought that imperfections could be beautiful.



It turns out that my understanding of the concept was wrong -- or perhaps appropriately incomplete. For one thing, the term is apparently actually "wabi-sabi." Poking around on Google a bit yesterday, I read a few pages that indicate a much more complex philosophy than just "imperfections create beauty." The rather slight entry in Wikipedia, for example, says, "The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is 'imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete'" and that "[i]t is a concept derived from the Buddhist assertion of the first noble truth -- Dukkha, or in Japanese, 無常 (mujyou), impermanence." (This entry actually has a cute self-referential apologia as well: "During the 1990s the concept was borrowed by computer software developers and employed in Agile programming and Wiki wiki to describe acceptance of the state of ongoing imperfection that is the product of these methods.")

An interesting page at hermitary.com ("resources and reflections on hermits and solitude") goes into quite a bit more detail: "The original connotation of wabi is based on the aloneness or separation from society experienced by the hermit, suggesting to the popular mind a misery and sad forlornness." Over time it became an aesthetic concept of "quiet contentment with simple things." Sabi has to do with "natural processes resulting in objects that are irregular, unpretentious, and ambiguous. The objects reflect a universal flux of 'coming from' and 'returning to.' They reflect an impermanence that is nevertheless congenial and provocative, leading the viewer or listener to a reflectiveness and contemplation...."

Actually, my original understanding of what Molly told me about wabi probably wasn't too far off-base. Another short little page says of wabi, "It also can mean an accidental or happenstance element (or perhaps even a small flaw) which gives elegance and uniqueness to the whole, such as the pattern made by a flowing glaze on a piece of ceramics." What I hadn't really grasped was that the flaws are accidental or natural, rather than intentional. The discussion of wabi-sabi reminds me of the reading in Taoism I've been doing lately, where "non-action" or nonvolition are essential to connecting to the Tao. Happenstance guides us to the ever-evolving heart of the real.

Makes sense as an aesthetic concept, too, and reminds me of the sense I often have of writing as a process of accidental discovery. Much here to chew on. I've always been what I call a "passivist." This is not an honored trait in our culture, but it seems that Asian philosophies see something valuable in passivity and submissiveness -- not to mention solitude, contemplation, and melancholy. My kind of philosophy!

Comments

[peteyoung.livejournal.com]

Thanks for pointing me to Hermitary.com. Wonderful-looking site, and I found there a review of one of my favourite books, Bill Porter's Road to Heaven: Encounters with Chinese Hermits.

[randy-byers.livejournal.com]

Sounds like a very interesting book! I'm almost certain that the Chungnan Mountains where Porter apparently traveled are the mountains where they find the remote village in The Bird People of China.

[replyhazy.livejournal.com]

maryread originally wanted Wabe to have something to do with wabi-sabi. But as she could never actually give me an example of how we would do that... it never went anywhere.

[randy-byers.livejournal.com]

Hm. The reading about wabi-sabi definitely made me think about the way we put Chunga together. The process is organic, evolving, and relies on unexpected contributions that we then try to shape into a whole, as well as things we've asked for or are trying to do. The stuff we don't anticipate always adds a creative jolt of energy. carl is a natural Taoist.

[bibliofile.livejournal.com]

Wasn't there a Greek tradition that had the same result--a deliberate flaw--though for different reasons? (To convince the gods that you weren't full of hubris.)

[randy-byers.livejournal.com]

I don't think I've run across that one before, although I'd be curious to hear more. The tragic flaw in Greek tragedies was called hamartia, but that is a character flaw, with hubris being a prime example. One of the articles I linked to specifically contrasts wabi-sabi with the Greek ideal of perfection.

[bibliofile.livejournal.com]

I remember hearing it mainly in the context of fiber workers/artists (though that's the modern term for them), Western culture (Europe and North America), possibly medieval through 18th Century--Puritan, perhaps? Hubris was the best term I could think of, though really it was more of a Christian thing, only God is perfect so we shouldn't even try to attain that in our work--it's a sin of pride. If I nail it down more closely, I'll let you know.