Black Pine over hanging pond, Korakuen, Okayama
I am slowly but surely working my way through Isabella Bird‘s Unbeaten tracks in Japan. While we were still in Japan, and enjoying its wonderful gardens, I came across the following passage from early in Bird’s travels:
After running cheerily for several miles my men bowled me into a tea-house, where they ate and smoked while I sat in the garden, which consisted of baked mud, smooth stepping-stones, a little pond with some goldfish, a deformed pine, and a stone lantern. (From Unbeaten tracks in Japan, 1880, Letter VI)
Hmm, I thought, was the pine really “deformed” or is this a case of Bird’s anglocentric eyes missing the beauty of Japanese pines? Because for me, besides of course the overall design, the three things I love about Japanese gardens are the stones, the lanterns and the pines. I cannot resist photographing these “objects”, particularly if I see them in combination. The stones, though, are stones, albeit beautifully chosen and carefully placed. And the lanterns – usually made of stone – come in a range of sizes and forms but are recognisably lanterns. The pines, however, are something else. They come in two main varieties – Red and Black. They are often supported by poles tied to the tree with rope, and their trunks may be protected by a bamboo “coat”. And, they are very particularly pruned, to shapes that I suppose could be described as “deformed” if you didn’t realise there was a plan and a purpose.
Lantern, stones, pine and water at Korakuen, Okayama
Water, stones and pines are the critical elements of Japanese gardens. And each has its meaning. For now though I’ll just focus on the pine. Pines, we were told by our Korakuen guide, represent longevity. My research for this post confirmed this but added that they also express happiness. I suppose happiness goes with long life? (At least it would be nice to think so!). I also discovered that Japanese red and black pines represent in and yo, “the soft, tranquil female forces and the firm, active male forces in the universe” (From the UCLA Hannah Garden Center). I would have expected from this that red and black pines would usually be found (more or less) together in Japanese gardens, but while we certainly saw both types of pines I wasn’t aware of their being in any obvious relationship with each other or even of regularly being in the same garden. Perhaps I’m reading this symbolism a little too literally. I will do some more research on this one … but, if any of you readers out there are experts in Japanese pines I’d love to know more.
Alex Kerr, in his award-winning book Lost Japan, has some critical things to say about modern Japanese gardens, but as I haven’t finished that book (either) I will reserve comments for now. Meanwhile, though, I hope you have enjoyed this admittedly little foray away from gums into the world of the Japanese pine!
Whispering Gums 
I think it’s definitely “a case of Bird’s anglocentric eyes missing the beauty of Japanese pines”! They only grow like neat Christmas trees under horticulturally predictable and boring conditions. With age (and a few lightning strikes etc.) they get gnarled and interesting, just like us! They are incredibly adaptable and resilient, and (also like us) can be most interesting if they’ve grown under challenging conditions – prevailing winds, inaccessible slopes, limited root space.
Which reminds me, I think it’s time I repotted all my bonsai.
Well said bushmaid except the bit about being gnarled – you can speak for yourself there! You have bonsai? That is still alive? Well done.
I’m with you – I think the pines are beautiful and fascinating to look at, not deformed. In fact, sometimes it makes me believe that the pines are mimicking something else in nature, like they’re trees who dream of surpassing their tree-ness… oh golly, that probably doesn’t make sense at all!
Oh yes, I think it does … sort of. They are certainly trees with character and for that are endlessly fascinating to me.
I understood what was meant by deformed pines but I have never thought of them that way. Interestingly shaped, I’d say.
Certainly that … I love their shapes and photographed them way too much. They’re carefully trained aren’t they.
We have two pines in our garden but didn’t know the Japanese associate them with long life. In these days of health service cuts I think our government will soon be introducing a pine eradication programme!
These project Gutenberg texts are often so compelling aren’t they – and there are so many of them. I’ve been reading Elizabeth Von Armin and her travels around the Baltic – a NZ born traveller http://www.gutenberg.org/browse/authors/a#a603
You cynic you!
As for Elizabeth von Arnim, I have a few of her books on my kindle. She is a favourite writer of mine – I’ve read five or so of her novels and memoirs but hadn’t come across her travel writing, so will check that out. But, this is intriguing, I’ve always thought she was Australian born. I checked Wikipedia and the intro says New Zealand born but the the Life section says she was born in Sydney. She is (adopted) cousin to the New Zealand writer Katherine Mansfield. Must check this out more. Have you read others of her work.
Some responses to your reflections above:
I lived a couple of years in Shimane-ken – the prefectural tree of which is the “kuro-matsu” or black pine. Later I lived 14+ years in Yamaguchi-ken – the prefectural tree of which is the “aka-matsu” or red pine. I was interested in the “yin-yang” reference (in Japanese “in-yo”「陰陽」). The coast along the southern edge of Honshu is called “san-yo” -「山陽」lit. mountain-sun (south-facing); the western Honshu coast along the Sea of Japan side is called “san’in” -「山陰」lit. mountain-shade (north-facing).
I think Isabella BIRD was correct to speak of “deformed” pines – not necessarily naturally so – but as in special twisting and training – those familiar with bonsai will understand – and as in the pine in your photograph above from Korakuen in Okayama-shi – to which garden I have been several times. Branches of older, larger pines which have survived some hundreds of years are indeed supported by props – and the probable damage of the ferocity of typhoons which annually sweep across large swathes of the country each year is thus mostly ameliorated.
This past week I was in Canberra at the Arboretum and visited the beautiful bonsai collection there! One of the most splendid gardens in Japan for pine trees – beautifully grown and pruned – is that called Ritsurin-Koen – in Takamatsu-shi – Kagawa-ken – the north-east corner of Shikoku.
Thanks Jim for that additional information. You’ve probably seen the huge Karasaki Matsu black pine in Kenrokuen with a lot of props to support it. So beautiful. I hadn’t thought about the impact of typhoons though. I was also fascinated by the wrapping of trunks that we saw in some places.
We’ve been to Ritsurin-Koen also … but I don’t think I wrote about that. I’m not sure why now …
As for the Bonsai Pavilion at the Arboretum, it’s magnificent isn’t it?