``Misho-ryu Sasaoka'' was founded in 1919 (Taisho XNUMX) and is known for devising a new ``Sasaoka style morika'' using Western flowers. The current headmaster, Ryuho Sasaoka, is attracting attention for his activities in a wide range of fields, including not only traditional flower arranging expressions, but also collaborations with other genres such as musicals and Kyogen. Mr. Sasaoka, who lives in Kyoto, talks about monthly flowers and Kyoto's special features for each month in a series called ``Monthly Flowers, Monthly Kyoto.'' November is Rimpa and autumn leaves.

Reproducing Hoichi Sakai's masterpiece in space with a new interpretation

This is an installation at Ryosoku-in, one of the sub-temples of Kennin-ji Temple. A while back, I tried to create a space with a Rinpa motif at the Kyoto Yaki Now Exhibition 400, which was held in November 2015 to commemorate the 11th anniversary of the Rinpa school. This is the work of

In the foreground are the summer haze, which has turned red, and the summer haze is still fresh and green, and in the back are autumn flowers such as bellflowers and light flowers, and lilies. The stones laid on top of the tatami mats in the foreground are called true black stones, literally black stones that are mined near Yase in the upper reaches of the Kamo River. In Kyoto, it is used for paving stones at entrances. The back room was covered with white sand, which is often found in dry landscape gardens and shrine gardens.

This installation pays homage to Hoichi Sakai's masterpiece, ``Summer and Autumn Grass Folding Screen.'' This work, drawn by Hoitsu Sakai on the back of Ogata Korin's ``Fujin and Raijin Folding Screen,'' which was a personal favor to Tawaraya Sotatsu, is said to symbolize the lineage of Rinpa, which appears in waves every 100 years. In the ``Summer and Autumn Grass Folding Screen,'' summer grass beaten by the rain and a swollen stream are depicted on the back of the ``Thunder God,'' and autumn grass being blown by the wind is depicted on the back of the ``Wind God.''

From the pleasure of seeing to the pleasure of placing yourself in a space

The pond at the back right of the main hall of Ryosokuin is likened to a stream of swollen water, and the summer grass soaked in the rain is represented by green summer leaves. It may be small and hard to see, but there are three leaves floating in the upper left corner of the back room. This is a persimmon leaf. In the ``Summer and Autumn Grass Folding Screen,'' ivy leaves dancing in the wind are placed casually, but very effectively, in the upper left corner of the screen. I tried to recreate this style of leaves dancing in the wind using persimmon leaves, but it was very difficult. While it is important to hang them in a balanced manner, colored persimmon leaves curl up quickly. I ironed it to prevent it from curling up, but it still curled up, so I had to change it every day during the exhibition.

The vase is the work of Hirotsugu Ogawa, who trained under his father, Choraku Ogawa III, at Choraku Kiln in Kyoto, and has recently held a solo exhibition. Although based on the tradition of Raku ware, the works, which had modern and powerful forms, had a strong presence at the venue.

From Hoitsu's works, which are a joy to look at, to a three-dimensional contemporary Rimpa space where you can place yourself inside. It was quite a difficult endeavor, but it turned out to be a memorable exhibition.

Autumn leaves are difficult to use as flower materials

Just like spring, autumn is a particularly busy time of the year when there are many flowers available, and we receive many requests for ikebana performances at exhibitions and events. When you think of Kyoto in autumn, you think of autumn leaves, but in fact autumn leaves are very difficult plants to use as flower materials. Just like the persimmon leaves that curled up right away in the installation at Ryosokuin, the tips of the leaves curl right away, even though it hasn't been long since the fall foliage finished. Leaves that have turned red are leaves that have reached the end of their lifespan and are just one step away from withering and falling. Therefore, the color fades and the tips of the leaves curl up quickly. Personally, I rather enjoy looking at the autumn leaves in the fields and mountains, burning their last bits of life, rather than seeing the autumn leaves as a work of art.

A famous spot for autumn leaves that every person in Kyoto cherishes

Perhaps due to global warming, the peak of autumn leaves in Kyoto seems to be coming later each year. The leaves used to change color in early to mid-November, but recently some trees have started to change color in late November, and in some places, early December. Kyoto has many famous spots for viewing autumn leaves, and it seems that each person in Kyoto has their own "famous spots for autumn leaves." Since it's close to my house, I've often looked at the autumn leaves from Mt. Yoshida to Shinnyodo, or in other words, the Higashiyama area, since I was a child. Mt. Yoshida, which has many subsidiary shrines dotted on the mountainside, including Yoshida Shrine, is also known as Kaguraoka, and is only about 11 meters above sea level. It is an easy mountain to climb, and the road from Mt. Yoshida to Konkai Komyoji Temple offers a spectacular view of the autumn leaves. In addition, the row of ginkgo trees on the northern campus of Kyoto University, where I lived as a student, turn completely yellow in mid-November and look spectacular. The unique scent of ginkgo is also admired.

When the autumn leaves season ends, Kyoto also enters December. As the gray clouds that hung over Kitayama begin to drift away, cold rain drizzles drenched the tiled roofs of Kyoto, where blue skies had been visible until just moments ago. The number of tourists decreases, and you can take a breather for a while, but before you know it, New Year's Eve is just around the corner, and you're starting to feel a bit anxious.