Ikebana

Flower Power
Ikebana, the complex art of Japanese floral arrangement, is as much about the strength of the spirit as it is about table decoration.
By Jean Tang

These are not the flowers I would have chosen, nor is this the arrangement I would have made. Then again, Raymundo Maltos, who's juxtaposing a single yellow daffodil with a pussy willow branch, is the creative director of the Floral Boutique at Takashimaya (212-350-0100), the Manhattan installment of the classy Japanese department store, and he seems to know what he's doing. It's called ikebana-style design, and the effect is stunning.



Ikebana, the complex art of Japanese floral arrangement, takes easily a decade to master. There are as many schools of ikebana as there are floral varieties. Yet generalizations still emerge. For example, while Westerners prefer denser bouquets (think fillers like baby's breath and roses by the dozen), ikebana pares everything down. A single flower? Hai! Abundance doesn't figure into the end result. Instead, spatial relations, symbolism, and the contemplation encouraged by white space are paramount.
If you're wondering what philosophy and spirituality have to do with table decoration, take note. Ikebana?-which began in the sixth century with the introduction of Buddhism to Japan?-is rooted firmly in religion. Its first practitioner was a monk who wanted to refine the presentation of the floral offering on his shrine in a way that symbolized man's relationship to heaven and earth. Centuries later, that relationship still lies at the center of the art form.
In Maltos' demonstration, heaven?-the pussy willow branch?-is the tallest representation, drawing the eye skyward. Man?-here a smattering of hearty orchids?-sits at midlevel. And earth?-miniature calla lilies and daffodils?-just barely touches the lip of the vase.
Arrangements can also allude to the past (a flower in partial bloom, perhaps), the present (full bloom), and the future (an unopened bud). Odd numbers?-associated with asymmetry and therefore creativity?-are encouraged.
Freshness, says Maltos, is key. If drawn from a live garden, flowers should be cut when their stems are at their most bloated: usually first thing in the morning or in the evening. It's best to slice them at a diagonal, with a sharp knife or scissors, under a running stream of water.
The medium of the receptacle?-metal, bamboo, woven basket?-and its shape and size are as important as the flowers themselves. For my arrangement, Maltos chooses a large rectangular ceramic vase whose heft and scale suit the strong colors and the skyward-arcing branches. A frog, or kenzan ?-a heavy device that resembles a needle-studded pincushion?-holds the flowers in place.
When he's finished with the demonstration, Maltos?-who's doing some of the country's most cutting-edge work in floral design?-shows me some of his other creations. Gazing at an orchid supported by a trellis of lashed-together bamboo, I wonder how this all conforms with ikebana, the polar opposite of avant-garde.
That's when Maltos reminds me of the ikebana rule that trumps all rules: "It's an art, so it's ultimately about personal expression."
A Crash Course in Ikebana
Place a kenzan in the vase or bowl. Fill with water, and add a dash of sake, rice vinegar, or flower food for longer preservation. Start with the tallest elements (for instance, sunflowers, tall calla lilies, or pea pods on steroids), wedging the bases of the branches between the rear tines of the kenzan. Then move on to the shorter elements, trimming stems and wedging them at the front of the kenzan. After each placement, view the arrangement from all angles: An ikebana arrangement should look good in three dimensions.

I copied and pasted the whole article, I hope it isn't to much. I found this really fascinating and it sounds like a lot of fun. I knew there were a lot of gardeners here and wondered if any of y'all practice this or have seen any examples?