A Rich History
By Corinne Kennedy
Because of the coronavirus pandemic, the Seattle Japanese Garden has been closed since March. This closure protects us all, but it’s especially difficult now, in our Garden’s 60th anniversary year. I miss it every day. And so many special events have been cancelled.
In this country and across the planet, we’re living in a pandemic of illness, death and economic suffering. And now, with the killing of George Floyd and widespread protests against police brutality and systemic racism, the daily trauma of Blacks and all people of color has been exposed for everyone to see.
Completed before May 25th, this article addresses the emotional disorientation many of us are experiencing during the pandemic – not just those of us who are relatively safe, but also people whose lives have been totally upended. These two paragraphs have been added since then. In this even more painful and traumatic time, I hope that what follows remains relevant.
Last month, I discovered a May 7th interview in the online magazine Vox that gave me some insight into the disorientation I’ve been feeling. The article, by Emily VanDerWerff, is titled “Why Time Feels So Weird Now: March was 30 years long and April was 30 minutes long. What gives?” It’s a fascinating interview with Dr. Adrian Bardon, a Wake Forest University professor of philosophy and authority on the philosophy of time.
According to Dr. Bardon, “time feels … endless in the moment and like it’s flown by in retrospect.” As he explains, our perception of time is the result of multiple internal clocks that interact to integrate our attention, emotions and experiences. On the one hand, when we’re relaxed and engaged in outward-directed, often productive activity, our experience is one of “flow.” Children at play easily achieve this state. I find it walking slowly and mindfully through the Japanese Garden and hiking in the mountains. But now, when our lives and routines are upended, we feel stressed and anxious. As Dr. Bardon notes, we may experience negative, inward-directed thoughts about ourselves and our situation. This is rumination, the opposite of flow.
I take comfort in gardening and walking in my neighborhood, and in addition, I’ve turned to re-reading articles about the Garden in the online archives of the Washington Park Arboretum Bulletin. Engaging with its history helps me re-connect with the experience of simply being present there.
Here are some Bulletin snapshots into times past – three articles from various decades in the Garden’s history: Summer 1971 (eleven years after its 1960 creation), Fall 1985 (the Arboretum’s 50th anniversary issue), and Summer 2009 (the Arboretum’s 75th anniversary issue). [Note: from 1957 to spring 1986, the WPA Bulletin was titled the University of Washington Arboretum Bulletin.]
Summer 1971 (Vol. 34, No. 2):
In 1971, eleven years after landscape designer Juki Iida oversaw our Garden’s creation, he returned and wrote a short article for the Bulletin: “The Japanese Garden – 1971”. Paired with a reprint of his original 1960 contribution, the 1971 piece is noteworthy because it considers whether the Garden remained true to the vision of its designers. Iida noted that “This garden appears to be well balanced at present,” but also emphasized the critical importance of ongoing maintenance and proper pruning – especially in the naturalistic southern portion of the Garden, which he designed:
Trees planted in the area covering the part from the water fall to the pond, which has been designed as a mountainous area, should be kept as nature-like as possible. Trimming of branches and leaves should not be necessary unless they suffer damage caused by blight and harmful insects.
Turning to the Garden’s future, he stressed the importance of regular and skillful maintenance:
Fall 1985 (Vol. 48, No. 3):
Fourteen years later, in the Arboretum’s 50th Anniversary Bulletin, Ruth Vorobik contributed a historical article, “Seattle’s Japanese Garden: 25 Years Old”, tracing its long “incubation”:
The 1909 Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition, with its emphasis on Pacific Rim cultures, gave birth to the desire for a tea house in a Seattle city park.
In 1937, the Arboretum Foundation Board discussed the Arboretum as a suitable site, but further planning was interrupted by the realities and racism of the World War II era. Finally, in 1957, Emily Haig was appointed chairperson of a Special Projects Committee focused on the creation of a Seattle Japanese Garden. The next year, the Tokyo Parks Division offered to donate landscape plans and a teahouse, and the project began to take shape.
Vorobik’s history includes the role of renowned landscape designer Juki Iida in the garden’s creation and construction, the training of garden tour guides, and the movement of the Garden’s entry gate from its original position next to the boulevard to a location with improved access and adjacent parking. This included designing a new garden area at the southern end of the original Garden. Unfortunately, continual budget cuts resulted in years of deferred maintenance, which Iida noted when he visited in 1971, expressing his concern and disappointment.
Other events in the Garden’s first 25 years: The teahouse, destroyed by fire in 1973, was rebuilt only after complex bureaucratic and fundraising issues were addressed. Constructed with traditional craftsmanship and authentic materials, it opened in 1981. That same year, responsibility for the Garden was transferred from the University of Washington to Seattle Parks and Recreation, and a staffed ticket booth was added. Fencing was built to address security problems. Improved access to comply with ADA legislation was in the planning stages.
The article concludes: “If Juki Iida could visit, I believe he would approve of the ‘love and care’ our Japanese Garden now receives”.
Summer 2009 (Vol. 71, No. 2):
Barbara Engram’s 2009 article, “An Appreciation of the Japanese Garden”, covers some of this same history. In addition, Engram considers how the Garden differs from the rest of the Arboretum, which is “essentially a collection of plants for scientific study, and though the plants are placed in a beautiful naturalistic setting, it is not, strictly speaking, a garden.” The Japanese Garden, on the other hand, “expresses design principles… that evolved over centuries in Japan”… a culturally derived belief about the relationship between humans and nature that differs greatly from that of western gardens.” This, and not the specific plants within it, is what makes a Japanese Garden.
After discussing several types of traditional Japanese gardens, Engram takes the reader on a tour of our own Garden – a stroll garden with both naturalistic and formal areas. I very much agree with her conclusion:
In this spring of 2020, we can visit the Garden only in our imagination. I invite you to discover the 60+ Bulletin articles on our Garden* -- and the many Blog articles on this website. There are also Garden photos here, on Instagram and on the Garden’s Facebook page. Haiku poems, videos and expanded content continue to be added. Over time and as new information has come to light, some details of our Garden’s history have needed revision, but its story remains essentially the same. Virtual visits and re-visiting that history bring to life the Garden’s timeless magic.
*The Bulletin’s Summer 2020 issue commemorates our Garden’s 60th anniversary. A sidebar lists twenty SJG articles from the Bulletin’s history, including a link to the Biodiversity Heritage Library, where all except the most recent issues of the Bulletin are archived: https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/bibliography/139633#/summary. Selections from recent Bulletins are available on the “Bulletin Archives” page of the Arboretum Foundation’s website: https://www.arboretumfoundation.org/about-us/publications/bulletin/bulletin-archive/
Corinne Kennedy is a Garden Guide, frequent contributor to the Seattle Japanese Garden blog, and retired garden designer.