"Can't it go any faster?" - How a Japanese tea ceremony slowed us down
5.12.2024
Translation: machine translated
Co-author: Stefanie Lechthaler
As the biggest tea lovers in our team, it was clear that Steffi and I had to take part in a tea ceremony. We had our matcha brewed in a ceremony at Museum Rietberg. A lot of things went through our heads - until it was completely empty.
"Where the hell do I have to go?" I hurry through the trees of Rieterpark like a driven deer, desperately searching for the Rietberg Museum. The Japanese tea ceremony is about to begin there, which I attend with my colleague Steffi. I'm running late and correspondingly stressed. Will the tea be cold by the time I arrive? Luckily not: I finally see the entrance.
In front of it stands a man in a kimono: head of ceremonies Christoph Meier. His calm demeanour makes everything around me fade away for a moment. "May I see your ticket?" he asks politely after a while. "Oh, sure," I murmur dreamily, hold it out to him and realise with a start: "The shoes ..." "No rush. You can take them off upstairs. Just relax. Breathe," he says. I feel caught out and laugh. So far, I've been holding my breath.
In the cocoon of silence
Soon after me, Steffi arrives - half as stressed but twice as tired as me. We are led into the attic with six other people. Here we take off our shoes and step into the tea room (Isshin-an), which measures around four by four metres. It is furnished with customised furniture and wooden walls as well as ornate scrolls from Japan. The smell of cedar is in the air.
Source: Nora Dal Cero
Dimmed light falls through the darkened window. In front of it are a tea kettle, a jug and a small tin. Christoph Meier kneels down next to it. We also sit down on cushions around him. Most of us make ourselves comfortable sitting cross-legged. The tough ones kneel - for now.
A sweet greeting
It gets so quiet that I can only hear my own heartbeat. Christoph Meier presents a box and explains that every tea ceremony begins with a sugary greeting
Source: Christoph Meier
He walks around with tea sweets and shows how to receive them:
- Bow to the person in front of you
- Bow again when the treat is offered to you.
- Pick up the tray and bow again before taking it
- Put the biscuit down in front of you and pass the tray on.
Steffi: \"Remember the sequence. Bow with Darina, receive the sweet and bow with Christoph Meier. Bow, candy, bow.\"
No one moves. Everyone stares mesmerised at the delicate and delicately painted sweet that lies temptingly before them. If we were dogs, our saliva would drip onto the floor
Darina: \"My God, how delicious does this biscuit look? I mean ... that crunchy icing! If I just put it in my mouth now ... No, don't think about it. Breathe! Breathe!\"
We breathe, we wait, we hold on. Until Christoph Meier says we can take it - one by one. We all let the biscuits melt in our mouths. A few cracking chewing noises echo in the quiet room. A teenager giggles sheepishly.
Impatience is building
Christoph Meier doesn't react, his attention is fully focussed on the ceremony. With a smile, he kneels down in front of us and informs us that he will be leaving the room shortly. He rises in his tightly wrapped kimono, rolling over his toes towards the back. I am amazed. He disappears behind a sliding door.
Meanwhile, the noise in the tea room gets louder and louder. At first I think of drainpipes, until I realise the obvious: It's the iron kettle (kama). Christoph Meier returns with small cups on a tray. They are decorated with chestnuts - the symbol of autumn. He explains that the kettle is traditionally placed closer to the guests at this time of year than in summer so that its warmth radiates to them.
Source: Nora Dal Cero
Acutely but carefully, he unscrews a small, black tin. He places the lid flush next to it, then grabs a wooden spoon. He dips it straight into the tin and pours a green powder into the cup: matcha powder. He then screws the can shut and places the spoon on the can at an exact right angle.
Darina: \"Can't we shorten the process? How long does it take?\"
Some people slide around restlessly on their cushions. Those who have been kneeling change to sitting cross-legged. Every now and then, a rusty back cracks. Christoph Meier opens the kettle. He uses a wooden ladle to spoon hot water into the teacup. He runs the ladle over the edge of the kettle, from left to right, and taps it exactly four times. Then he draws cool water from the fresh water jug (mizusashi) and dries the edges of the cup with a tea towel (fukusa).
As we learn, every movement is practised and follows a strict sequence. Every cup follows the same ritual. Christoph Meier reaches for a bamboo whisk. He uses it to froth up the matcha powder in the teacup. It scrapes, rustles and the porcelain tinkles softly like a singing bowl. The whirling broom slowly blurs before my eyes.
Darina: \"Somehow this is ... relaxing. I wonder if I'll soon dissolve like the matcha powder? Hello, stay here!\"
Source: Nora Dal Cero
Routine is deadly...comforting
The first three tea bowls are ready. Christoph Meier hands them out one after the other and shows us how to hold them: left hand at the bottom, right hand on the rim. Then take small sips. The first of the group bow their heads, take a sip, bow again and drink. The ceremony leader fetches the next cups from the next room. We already know the procedure.
Darina: \"Oh, it's somehow reassuring when it's already clear what's coming next.\"
Steffi: \"I just hope I can still sleep in the early evening despite the green tea.\"
No one slides around on their pillow anymore. Everyone just sits there and watches spellbound as Christoph Meier hands out the cups. Quiet sipping noises can be heard, nothing else. Even the teenager is no longer giggling.
Source: Christoph Meier
Step by step, Christoph Meier prepares the last three cups. When one is finally placed in front of me, I bow my head, grab it, bow my head again and bring the bowl to my nose. The typical smell of green tea reaches my senses. If I had wanted to gulp it down like a biscuit earlier, I now pause for a moment. As the saying goes: "There is a space between stimulus and response. In this space lies our power." Then I take the first sip.
Darina: \"Oh, I didn't expect that. How frothy and airy it is. And the bitter notes are very gentle. It tastes so delicious. Mhhh!\"
Now it's Steffi's turn too.
Steffi: \"More tart and bitter than I expected - but still delicious.\"\"
Arrived in Zen mode
Christoph Meier kneels down in front of us one last time. He explains how we fold up the napkins on which the tea sweets were placed at the beginning and stow them in our sleeves. Normally, each guest takes their own. We fold them. Nobody cares if they do it perfectly. Everyone is at peace with themselves.
After 60 minutes that feel like the blink of an eye and at the same time infinite, the ceremony leader steps to the window. Only gradually do we realise that the tea ceremony is over - our sense of time has dissolved. Christoph Meier pushes the blackout curtain aside. Bright light streams in and opens up a view of a magnificent treetop. "Wow," someone breathes. It's time to open up to the outside world again. We are ready.
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Header image: Nora Dal Cero
Darina Schweizer
Senior Editor
Darina.Schweizer@digitecgalaxus.chI like anything that has four legs or roots. The books I enjoy let me peer into the abyss of the human psyche. Unlike those wretched mountains that are forever blocking the view – especially of the sea. Lighthouses are a great place for getting some fresh air too, you know?