The Function of Silence in Tea Ceremony
R. Benoit, May 2006

The function of silence in Tea Ceremony
‘Less is more’ ‘Silence is golden’ ‘Silence is not the opposite of eloquence’

How would a meeting or gathering feel between friends if all agreed in advance and in principle:
Not to speak to or look at each other.
Not to deviate or change established rules governing movement in the meeting.
To come and go without exchanging words.
What would be the social function or purpose of such a gathering? (What would participants ‘get’ out of it?)

The importance and weight of the word ‘Ceremony’
What do you ‘hear’ and feel in the word ‘Ceremony’? What does it conjure?
What do you expect? Based on the use of the word ‘ceremony’, is Tea Ceremony secular or religious?
How would these terms change the experience of 'Japanese Tea Ceremony'?
Tea Practice.. Tea Ritual.. Tea Gathering.. Tea Party..

Passive vs. Active Silence
Can silence be ‘active’?
How has the function and effect (or feeling) of silence in the Tea Ceremony changed through the centuries?
What are the rules governing speech in Tea Ceremony?
How and why did they develop?
What is the effect of following these rules on the experience of Tea Ceremony participants?

A Reflection on the Essay "Rich Silence", Akira Tatehata
The Value of Ambiguity
“Elegant cultural communication with others does not have much hope in the first place. Eloquence can never serve as a point of contact for different standpoints or different cultures… Eloquence that is not backed by interactive rationality can at any time revisit us in the form of intolerance and exclusion.”

Tatehata begins his essay ‘Rich Silence’ with the thought that “There are things in this world ‘about which one cannot speak’” (p. 34). “Ambiguity, by its lack of definition, activates our imagination and brings rich possibilities – equivalent to the alluring void of silence”.

Tatehata refers to ‘Ma’ as void, where silence can become a form of communication; a void which allows the viewer of an ink painting to use his or her own imagination to complete the work. In the same way, readers of Haiku also interpret the message of the poet. In Tea as well, the guests interpret the message of the host through the environment created through the use of various utensils.

In Tea Ceremony, silence serves as a rich and powerful vehicle for sharing between participants. For example, when entering the tearoom, the host’s message to guests in the choice and message of the scroll displayed in the alcove, the flowers chosen to be arranged, even the scent of the incense and choice of tea utensils all convey a message. Only at the end of the ceremony can the guests ask the host about the choice and meaning and provenance of the utensils. In the intervening time, they are left to imagine, to interpret and hypothesize; to explore their intuition and allow their assumptions to simmer in the silence.

In this age of photography, satellite imagery and DNA coding, where everything can be confirmed, quantified or ‘known’, there lays a value in preserving and examining the courage required to tolerate ambiguity. In the Tea Ceremony, this ambiguity is celebrated and even enjoyed in the form of silence. The foreknowledge that silence will be a prominent form of communication between participants serves to reassure. The gestural language (greetings in the form of bows, briefly exchange eye contact, the passing and receiving of sweets, bowls of tea and utensils) all serve as ‘speech’ and the silence does not feel heavy to the experienced guest; some even describe this silence as ‘enjoyable tension’ (Bruce Hamana, International Director of the Urasenke School, 2006).

Silence experienced: A personal reflection
Throughout my years of exposure to tea, both in Japan and more recently in Canada, I’ve experienced various forms of ‘Tea Silence’. When I first began my studies, lessons were peppered with my teacher’s constant gentle, but insistent instructions and corrections. I longed for the day when we could go through the Tea Ceremony from start to finish, without interruption and without hesitation. Gradually, as my own skill and confidence increased alongside that of my Tea classmates, we were able to sit quietly once a week together, for several hours, while experiencing tea together.

Months before my return to Canada, I had several experiences which solidified my understanding of silence in Tea. While my aunt was visiting, she attended a very special tea evening with my classmate and teacher. For months, in anticipation of her arrival, we had discussed what utensils we would use, which kimono we would wear. My classmate had a kimono custom-made for this event in fact. When the evening for our tea with my aunt finally came, we were all quietly, inwardly excited and looking forward to her experiencing tea. For all of us too, it was a precious opportunity to initiate someone into the Tea world and see the art form that we loved through her eyes.

Silently, we were able to complete the ceremony without correction from my teacher. In special, critically timed moments, my classmate and I would exchange a bow of greeting or gratitude, our eyes meeting only fleetingly. When the evening was over, we all felt so peaceful and truly tranquil. My aunt however, was confused and irritated, “You didn’t even talk to each other! You were both doing different things at the same time! I didn’t feel any communication between you at all!” Although I was surprised by her reaction, I realized at that moment how much my own understanding of tea and silence had developed and changed over the course of years. The communication we shared through belonging and understanding the rules of Tea had finally superseded my own need for verbal exchange.

Sunhee K (ed.) The Elegance of Silence: Contemporary Art from East Asia. Tokyo: Mori Art Museum, 2005.