Well, if you came a little early, you probably had a chance to look around the hallways and the little room annex right here and take a look at Tabase Sensei's calligraphy. Today is the first, the opening of our exhibition of Hodo Tabase Sensei's calligraphy show.

[01:06]

Not calligraphy show, but hanging of his calligraphy. So today, I want to talk about Zen calligraphy and introduce you to this show. and familiarize you with some of the concepts or some of the ideas inherent in Zen calligraphy are. This exhibit was organized by Gordon Ansel Ford, who I'd like to introduce to you. sitting in the back here. And he himself is a wonderful painter for maybe 40 or 50 years. And he was a student of Tobase Sensei back in the late 50s when Tobase Sensei was teaching, or was the priest, the head priest at Sokoji Temple.

[02:23]

I'll give you a little background. I want to give you some background about Tobase Sensei and his relationship to Zen Center. Gordon says, I'll quote you, he says, Tobase Sensei wasn't a scholar in any way. He was a monk who had great wisdom about the mind. He knew about human beings. He wasn't particularly interested in politics or modern art. Little by little, I discovered through my meetings with Tobase Sensei, that calligraphy, not writing about something, but expressing yourself in line, was the way of talking about the spirit. I think that's quite a wonderful way to express this. Zen calligraphy is not talkative. It's expressive and talk about how that's so.

[03:26]

It's not so much the content, although the content is important. Content is very important. It's a mixture of, or a combination of expression for its own sake and content. Tobase Sensei was the head priest at Sokoji Temple in the late 50s, just before Suzuki Roshi was the head priest at Sokoji Temple. Sokoji was a Japanese temple on 1881 Bush Street in San Francisco, and it's where Zen Center had its inception. Up until 1969, through the 50s and 60s, Oh well, through the 60s, Zen Center was at Sokoji Temple.

[04:34]

And Shinryu Suzuki Roshi, our founder, was the head priest there. He had been asked to come from Japan by the congregation, the Japanese congregation at Sokoji. And Sokoji was formed after the war, after the Second World War, by the Japanese internees in America. When the Japanese were put into internment camps in America, the American Japanese, little by little they saved their money. They didn't have much money, but what they had they put into a fund so that if they should ever leave the camps, they could establish a temple. So whatever money they had, they put into this fund. And when the war was over, they bought this old synagogue at 1881 Bush Street, which is a kind of historical building now, and established the San Francisco Temple, Sokoji.

[05:51]

and Tobase was one of the first Zen priests. And until Suzuki Roshi, the Zen priests and Sokoji, and this is true, most ethnic monks or priests in America pretty much stick with their ethnic congregations. Suzuki Roshi was rather unique in that he invited foreigners to practice with him when he became the priest at Sokoji. And after a few years, Zen Center started to mushroom out of that association. And 10 years later, we bought this building in 1969. Tomase-sensei pretty much stuck with the Japanese congregation who had invited him, but he had a number of Western friends, and it was discovered that he was quite a good calligrapher, so people asked him to teach calligraphy, which he did.

[07:14]

And Gordon was a student with him for many, many years, and the show that we see today is Gordon's collection, pretty much, of Tobase Sensei's calligraphy. So this is our first actual welcoming of Tobase Sensei to the American Zen scene. After the talk, I will have a little welcoming ceremony for him in the dining room, kind of posthumous welcoming ceremony. So in Zen art and Zen calligraphy,

[08:19]

have somewhat the same characteristics. But calligraphy has three, there are three basic types of calligraphy. One is the proper type or formal type that you maybe see in a newspaper or on a document that everybody can read and it's what you learn in school. And then there's the, called the running style, which is maybe more like cursive calligraphy. And then there's the grass style, which is very individualistic. And sometimes people well-versed in reading can't really read what it says. But it's very expressive. It's very personally expressive.

[09:20]

And Tomase Sensei's calligraphy, which we see out here, has all three styles. So you can see those three styles depending on what he's trying to say. One character says, suchness. It's really a beautiful expression, beautiful, bold, horizontal line. But you may not be able to read it if you only understand the proper form. So, Zen calligraphy is very much tied to Zen understanding, and I want to give you the seven characteristics which seem to be associated with Zen calligraphy and art.

[10:33]

One is called asymmetry. I'm not sure that the term is correct, but any of these terms just kind of point you know, to something. If we take them too literally, it doesn't quite hit the mark. Another way of expressing asymmetry would be movement, simply movement off the center, or eccentricity is another. Eccentricity in its fundamental sense of being off-center. In Buddhism, and especially in Zen, we're always concerned with two things. One is the fundamental, or called emptiness, or suchness,

[11:41]

And then the other side is comparative comparison, the world of relativity, how everything springs into action relative to everything else. So sometimes one is called the straight and the other is called the inclined. That kind of expresses it. The straight is like symmetrical. And symmetry has the feeling of not moving, just being there. Whereas the inclined or asymmetry means to put something into motion. So if you look at the Buddhist statues and paintings of Buddha, Buddha is always symmetrical and has the feeling of calm symmetry.

[12:58]

But if you look at Zen painting, it always has the feeling, it often has the feeling of movement and falling out of balance, the other side. So both of these sides are what Buddhism is always concerned with, or Zen is always concerned with, how to express the fundamental in the movement, in the incline. How do you express the symmetry within the asymmetrical? And how do you express the asymmetrical within the symmetrical? So this asymmetry is a good term, but I think it lacks something. I think Zen art is symmetrically unsymmetrical and unsymmetrically symmetrical. Otherwise, it misses the mark. So when we talk about sazen, sazen is the symmetrical.

[14:05]

It's the upright. It's like sitting like a Buddha statue, sitting in emptiness. looking like a Buddha statue. And our activity is asymmetrical. It's out of balance. Always, as soon as something comes into activity, it disturbs the balance. So Suzuki Roshi used to say, our life is continually falling out of balance and regaining our balance. Everything is continually falling off and standing up, falling off and standing up, inclining and upright in this kind of cycle. As soon as we find our balance, we're off again. And after we're off again, we find our balance. So this asymmetrical symmetry of our life

[15:13]

is expressed in Zen painting. And it's also expressed as no holiness. When you see pictures of Buddhist art, it doesn't express holiness as such. But each expression, each eccentric expression expresses the whole thing. So another characteristic is called simplicity. Simplicity means without anything extra. No fussiness. You just do something once. You don't erase and you don't go over it.

[16:18]

If you make a mistake, that's it. So, as Dogen says, a Zen master's life may be one mistake after another. Nothing but one mistake after another. So, in a sense, are there any mistakes? Maybe, maybe not. And sometimes we use our mistakes. Knowing how to use our mistakes is very important. So no fussiness, no going over, just direct and simple. But this simpleness has also the feeling of relying on less and less until we come to what is it that we really rely on.

[17:41]

The more we can get rid of, the more we see what we really rely on. So it has this kind of austere feeling. And someone who is a really great calligrapher can express this in one line. All these characteristics actually are really expressions of one characteristic. They're not isolated or independent. Dogen Zenji says, when swimming in the waves with your head and shoulders, you should also be walking on the bottom with your feet. This is bringing the absolute and the relative together. Sometimes we say a human being, person, is the connection between heaven and earth. That's the spirit of calligraphy.

[18:56]

This is where heaven and earth meet, and how do they meet, or is there such a thing as meeting? A third characteristic is called austere sublimity. Austerity has the feeling of an old wooded tree or just getting down to the bones, not very juicy. There's an old saying, the wind howling through the wooded tree. The song of the wind howling through the wooded tree. What kind of music is that? So this is the feeling of down to the bare essentials.

[20:03]

What's left? And how is it expressed? This is the feeling evoked by an old Zen master, someone who has come to the last stage of their life. who has no particular worry or care, and whose every movement expresses the Dharma. Like an old tree. There are these old trees in the high country that are the oldest living things. And they look like a withered tree. They're so old, and they've been through so many winters and summers. And they're still alive, although you wouldn't think so. If you looked at that tree and didn't know, you'd say, I think that tree is dead. Actually, the tree is full of life and vitality.

[21:09]

So this feeling is kind of austere sublimity. And another characteristic is naturalness. Naturalness means ease, doing something because it's just the thing to do, not forced, not contrived, not trying to do something that's not yours to do, but because it's you You do it. This is naturalness. It doesn't mean doing whatever you want. It means because of who you are, you do what you do. So it has that authenticity, actually, feeling of authenticity in naturalness.

[22:13]

And the next characteristic is called subtle profanity. meaning depth, meaning that it really reaches down to the depth. And it subtly does so. It means there's a suggestion. In the calligraphy or in the painting, there's a suggestion. And it's just a trace. But this trace is there because it has the foundation of the whole universe. When you make a line, if you're a calligrapher, the calligrapher becomes very concentrated on what they're doing, so that when they make a line, the whole universe is participating in that movement. And sometimes you'll see a wonderful line, which is very astonishing,

[23:20]

because you can grasp that feeling of being aligned with the universe, in harmony with the universe. That the tip of this brush is at that point in time and space, which expresses the whole universe right there in that point. So if you pick up one corner of the cloth, the whole cloth comes up with it. And the next characteristic is freedom from attachment. Freedom from attachment means not to be stuck anywhere, to let life flow as it flows, and to flow with it.

[24:23]

and not to be attached to Buddhism, or rank, or sex, your particular sex, or your particular idea of yourself. Just to have a completely open mind to see things as they are. This is called great freedom. Non-attachment is great freedom. Freedom to exist where you are and to do what you have to do. It doesn't mean to escape or to run away. It means the freedom to stand

[25:25]

where you are, no matter what's happening. And then the last characteristic is called tranquility, which means the ability to not be disturbed by whatever's going on. within the most difficult part of your life to be grounded and settled. So all of these characteristics interplay with each other. And when you start to talk about one, another one starts to enter into it. These characteristics can all be found in Tobase Sensei's calligraphy.

[26:33]

For instance, one of his pieces says, deep within the forest, natural, clear, and serene. Very simple. Mostly calligraphy is very cryptic. Sometimes the calligrapher, often the calligrapher, will just take one phrase from somebody's work and just use that one phrase, and that one phrase expresses the whole thing. Deep within the forest, natural, clear, and serene. Where is the forest? What forest is he talking about? This is like maybe an expression from his Zazen, deep within the inner, the most inner part of myself, natural, clear.

[27:44]

And so how many of us can say that about ourselves? This is, you know, this has the feeling of, When you go into the forest, deeper and deeper and deeper, it becomes more and more quiet, more still, more mysterious. And if you don't get frightened, you can open up to this great stillness, this great clear, serene naturalness. Dobasi's expression with the line expresses this feeling. He must have had some wonderful experience.

[28:46]

Maybe he just came out of Zazen. This is my conjecture. I'm painting my picture. He comes out of Zazen and just writes this without thinking. about anything. No thought. Just makes his ink. Naturalness, simplicity, sublime austerity, subtle profundity, naturalness, tranquility, and freedom from attachment. He had nothing else to do. when you come out of Zazen when you stop sitting Zazen you're completely free you have nothing else to do then you have to decide what's next how you enter the world and do something how you swim in the waves but still keep your feet on the bottom how you sit Zazen all day long without crossing your legs

[30:05]

He has another calligraphy that says, the treasure house opens by itself. This is a reference to Dogen Zenji's fukan zazenge, where Dogen talks about the meaning of zazen, and where he introduces zazen into Japan, actually, his style of zazen. He introduces it into Japan with the fukan zazenge. meaning of sitting Zazen. And so this phrase comes at the very end of the Fukan Zazengi. The treasure house opens by itself. So I'll read you the last paragraph of the Fukan Zazengi. He says, please honored followers of Zen, long accustomed to groping for the elephant, do not be suspicious of the true dragon. Devote your energies to a way that directly indicates the absolute.

[31:22]

Revere the person of complete attainment who is beyond all human agency. Gain accord with the enlightenment of the Buddhas and succeed to the lineage of the ancestors' samadhi. Constantly perform in such a manner and you are assured of being a person such as they. Your treasure store will open by itself and you will use it at will. So this is quite a wonderful calligraphy. The treasure store house opens by itself. That's all he says. But the whole is behind this little phrase. And the calligraphy expresses the whole thing. Then he says, He has another one that says, sun, moon, sun and moon, no intention to shine.

[32:28]

Sun and moon have no intention to shine. This is like a person who teaches, a Zen master, a Zen mistress, someone who expresses the Dharma, has no intention to shine. This person is likened to the sun or the moon. They have no intention to shine. They just do their thing. A good teacher doesn't intend to teach, but they just do their thing. They just practice their practice. And somehow or another, They let Buddha do the teaching. They let Buddha lead the way.

[33:32]

If there's some kind of intention, then it's maybe interference. So this is like a poem of trust. trusting that if one just does one's practice, everything will take care of itself. Take care of Buddha, and let Buddha take care of everything. Sun and the moon have no intention to shine. Quite a nice poem, or whatever you call it. And then another one, these are just two characters, clear mind or pure breeze.

[34:40]

I'm sorry, not clear mind, clear wind. Clear wind or you could say pure breeze either way. This is very subtle. What does it mean, pure wind? Pure wind, there's a little longer poem that says, the pure wind blows through the empty hall. Pure wind blows through the empty hall. What's the empty hall? Empty hall is our own heart, our own mind. It's a kind of joyous feeling. Clear wind blows through the empty hall. This is an expression of state of mind, no special state of mind, actually. State of mind which is no special state of mind.

[35:43]

Everything comes and comes as it comes and goes as it goes. Don't hinder and don't catch. And there's just one more, which I won't talk about. This calligraphy is a little more wordy, and it says, the waters of the three terraced falls were high, and the carp becomes a dragon. You could also say the third stage The Three Terraced Falls is okay. Yet still by night, I'm sorry, I'm going on too far. The waters of the Three Terraced Falls were high and the carp becomes a dragon. Three Terraced Falls is like, it refers to a story.

[36:49]

The ancient king, emperor of China cut through a mountain to harness the water of the Yellow River. And the gateway had three terraced falls, three terraced falls. And the carp at the bottom used to jump up and make their way up the falls. And the strong ones made it. And this is always used as a metaphor for that effort that will take you to where you're going. But this saying refers to a koan in the Blue Cliff Record, case number seven.

[37:50]

I'll just tell you a little bit about that case. It's called Hogan's U-R-H-O. Mark asked Master Hogan, smart came up to Zen Master Hogan in China, and he said, my name is Echo. I ask you, what is the Buddha? So he asks him this silly question. What is the Buddha? Stupid question. And Hogan says, you are Echo. Now, you are Echo can be said either either of two ways. It can be U-R-H-O or U-R-H-O. It's kind of ambiguous. But this ambiguity is very important because U-R-H-O means just as U-R, you are a person called H-O.

[38:53]

But it also means You are Buddha, Echo. So as it brings the relative and the absolute worlds together, it's very subtle. And Secho has a verse, and he says, which is a commentary on this koan, and he says, in the land of the river, faintly stirring the gentle breeze of spring. Faintly stirring the gentle breeze of spring has the feeling of looking at these two worlds of the absolute and the relative. Far away, deep among blossoms, the partridge sings. That's another way of expressing the same thing. Ascending the falls, the carp becomes a dragon. Yet still by night, fools fish for him far below. He's already gone, but fools fish for him far below. So ascending the falls, the carp becomes a dragon.

[39:58]

This is where this calligraphy comes from. Just that little bit, but it's expressing the whole koan. So there's a lot behind these bits of calligraphy. And the more you know or understand about Zen literature, I hate to say literature, but so be it. The more you can understand about what he's talking about, what's being said. Nevertheless, even if you don't know anything, it's still the same. You can still get the impact of the calligraphy. may not know the source, but you know your own source.

[41:05]

If you know your own source, the calligraphy brings you back to your own source. So please enjoy.

[41:13]

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