Sunday, September 23, 2012

In the Hall of 1,022,000 Eyes

The large Thousand-Armed Kannon.
There are many things that make Kyoto an amazing place to visit. One of them is the abundance of old, beautiful temples. Kyoto has so many old, beautiful temples that I was actually warned not to visit too many in one day, lest I find myself "templed out". Following this advice during my visit there, I took my temple dosage in moderation and successfully avoided any Stendhal-like symptoms. Nevertheless, at the end of each day my feet were sore as hell from all the walking.

Sanjusangendo temple.
On my fourth day in the Kyoto, I visited one of the most stunning temples the city has to offer, Sanjusangendo. The name of the temple means "hall with thirty-three spaces between columns". Dating from 1164, the original building was destroyed in a fire but was reconstructed in 1266 and has remained standing ever since. Aside from from its obvious religious value, Sanjusangendo has also became widely known in (Japanese) popular culture for two rather non-religious reasons.

Woodcut from the late 1700s showing the
Toshiya at Sanjusangendo. Photo from
the Wikimedia Commons.



Each year, a famous archery contest called the Toshiya, is held at the temple. Originating with samurai during the Edo period, the contest is now closely associated with Japan's Coming of Age Day, with many of the archers being "new" adults.




Woodcut of Musashi battling the Yoshioka
School. Source unknown.

Sanjusangendo, or rather the area just outside of it, was also the site of a duel between the legendary samurai Miyamoto Musashi and the leader of the Yoshioka martial arts school. Musashi himself is a prominent figure in Japanese culture and gained fame not only for his tactical skills but also for his philosophical writings. For anyone interested in learning more about Musashi himself, the Edo period, or just a plain fantastic story should check the novel "Musashi" by Eiji Yoshikawa.

I wondered if they offered a discount
to anyone buying all of the charms at once.
During my time in Kyoto I stayed at the guesthouse of Shunkoin temple, in the northwestern area of the city. It's tucked away from the city center yet still well connected. I took a train to Kyoto Central Station and from there hopped on a bus. I thought the bus was extremely crowded and exploding with passengers but I'm sure all the Japanese folks thought it was a normal, everyday experience. After I got off (or rather was launched out of) the bus, I found myself standing right in front of Sanjusangendo. As I soon as I entered the temple grounds, the first thing that caught my attention were various signs hawking all sorts of gaudy trinkets and dodgy "spiritual" services. 

Fortunately, the signs didn't distract at all from the temple itself. From my earlier temple visits in Kyoto, I learned that it's best to visit as early as possible since the crowds will be far thinner. It's not possible to actually beat the crowds in Japan since it seemed to me there were always people around, all the time, and everywhere. While outdoors, I was never by myself. Although I walked quickly to the entrance, got my ticket, and walked quickly the main hall, I started to walk much slower as soon as I got to the entrance. After rounding a corner, I peeked in and was greeted with one of the most amazing sights of I've ever had the fortune to lay my eyes on. There so many golden figures, beautifully adorned, meticulously detailed golden statues almost as far as I could see. Look at the photo below for a bit before you continue reading on.

Shot of the main hall of Sanjusangendo. Photo from the pamphlet "National Treasure
Sanjusangendo"
Perhaps the best indicator of the hall's sheer beauty came not from my own amazement but from someone else's . A bit further down the (very long) hall was a tour guide accompanying a sharply dressed, aloof German businessman. As the guide explained the history of the temple and the details of the statues, the German guy, now standing with wide eyes and an obvious expression of awe, could only say "Wow". While this reaction might not seem like much, one must keep in mind that German folks are a quite a reserved bunch who are usually hard to impress. The "tough crowd" may very well lie among the multitude of German inventions but having seen the gentleman's initially icy demeanor melt away into reverent astonishment in a matter of moments was a wonderful thing to see.

Photography is not allowed in the temple, which was just fine with me since I couldn't possibly hope to capture the atmosphere well with my little (albeit appropriately named) Canon camera. I did manage to find some web sites with fantastic professional photos, one of which can be found here. Another site with great pictures comes from a very talented flickr user. All the photos from the inside of the temple on this post are from a pamphlet I picked up.

The main hall is basically a long corridor with a narrow walkway. Most of the space in the temple is taken up by 1,000 wonderful statues of Kanon bodhisattva. Some of the statues date from the original structure but most were made when the temple was rebuilt in the 13th century. The figures of the bodhisattva are carved from Japanese cyprus and painted in gold. As I walked slowly down this long hall, gazing at all of the statues, I stopped for a closer look. I soon noticed that far from being mass produced copies, the statues were actually not the same at all. In particular, the facial expressions were all just different enough to be noticeable. And in the center of the hall was a large, seated Kanon figure. 

Large Kanon statue in the center of the main hall. Photo from the
pamphlet "National Treasure Sanjusangendo".
Sanjusangendo, which is a part of the Tendai school, is dedicated to the Thousand-Armed manifestation of Kanon bodhisattva, known in Sanskrit as Sahasrabhuja arya avalokiteśvara. While the thousand-arm motif can be seen everywhere in the temple, the statues themselves don't have a thousand arms. They actually have forty, which brings us to some number crunching. As just mentioned, each figure has 40 arms and, according to tradition, the bodhisattva can reach into 25 realms of existence, giving (40 x 25 =) 1,000. The math doesn't stop there, however. It turns out this form of the bodhisattva also has a thousand eyes (and eleven heads). As the bodhisattva foremost in the practice of compassion, the idea is that Kanon can see all (eyes) and also help all (hands). Factoring in Buddhist teachings about the bodhisattva, I made the following calculation to determine the number of eyes at the temple:

1,000 hands/statue (see above)
11 heads (for the Thousand-Armed bodhisattva)
2 eyes/head
1 eye/hand (see above)

Which gives:
[(1,000 hands)(1 eye/hand) + (11 head)(2 eyes/heads)] x 1000 statues = 1,022,000 eyes

On a much less abstract level, one thing I enjoyed very much was the size of the many Kanon statues. They all seemed to be roughly my height (~5' 7", 170 cm). During my time in Japan, I'd seen many giant sized statues and also many small ones but the life-sized figures in Sanjusangendo made an unexpectedly humble impression on me. Perhaps their human-sized stature made them seem less otherworldly and more human. 

 


When I reached the end of the main hall, I turned the corner to find a long (literally!) exhibit about the history and significance of the temple and its art. Afterward, I set about exploring the rest of the temple grounds. There were a couple of small ponds and elegantly arranged gardens.





Just opposite of the main hall stood a tiny shrine built around a small natural spring that had ladles available for visitors to use. A sign explained the spring was discovered shortly after the temple was built and was named "the spring crying in the night" because of the way the water sounds. I didn't think it sounded like crying at all. Perhaps that's because I was listening to it during the day?


 

Like all temples, Sanjusangendo also has a rather large and impressive bell. There was also a large and impressive sign asking visitors not to strike it.





What I found most interesting was an unpainted, stone torii gate that lead to a shrine dedicated to the Shinto spirit Inari. I've always found it interesting how Buddhism has influenced and has been influenced by the many other beliefs and cultures it has encountered. It makes me wonder what sort of changes will occur now that the dharma has come West.

Inari shrine at Sanjusangendo.
Later that evening, while getting ready for bed, I thought very much about what I had seen at Sanjusangendo. The image of so many golden bodhisattva statues stayed in my head all day and it also made me think about what the idea of a bodhisattva means to me. There are many who revere bodhisattvas for various reasons. For many people, veneration takes on an almost theistic quality; prayers and offerings to a celestial being in exchange for good fortune. It has never been and will never be like that for me. Whenever I see fantastic, golden images of bodhisattvas sitting or standing on giant lotus flowers, I don't see an unapproachable, cosmic entity demanding offerings. Nor do I see mythological religious constructions manifested to ease primitive human desires and fears. I prefer to look past the fantastic adornments and academic write-offs to see instead models for the human spiritual potential. It is taught that those golden beings on the lotuses were regular people like you and I. When far along enough on the spiritual path, perhaps we too will sit on lotuses with golden halos, dedicating ourselves to helping all living beings.

Photo from the pamphlet "National
Treasure Sanjusangendo".