Zen and the art of flower arranging
With its minimalist beauty, eco-friendly techniques and mindful practice, it’s perhaps of little surprise that the ancient art of ikebana has become a modern-day phenomenon. Melissa Mabbitt visited practitioner Rie Kuchina-Day at her Lincolnshire home to find that the traditional Japanese way of flower arranging is the perfect antidote to a hectic modern world
In a lofty floristry studio inside a stately home in rural Lincolnshire, Rie Kuchina-Day gently grasps a hydrangea stem, squeezing and bending all the way along to create a more arching shape. Long strappy stems such as iris or Phormium are pulled between her fingers to make them curve – a bit like making a plastic ribbon spiral by pulling it between scissor blades. The precision of her gestures is mesmerising. Inspired, I peer down at the single chrysanthemum stem and small saucer of water on the workbench in front of me and ponder how this already beautiful flower, through my manipulation, might be made... perfect. As I work, I feel a palpable calm descend. This, after all, is no ordinary floristry workshop. This is ikebana.
Ikebana translates to ‘giving life to flowers’, and this ancient Japanese art uses the subtle, patient and deliberate placement of plant stems as a way to clear the mind. A way to focus thoughts by noticing the small yet profound details in a single leaf or bud. Like much of Japanese culture, it’s about subtlety, deliberation, patience – giving each stem its own time and space to be contemplated. The meditative effects of working with plants in this way was considered so powerful that, since its inception, ikebana was practiced by Buddhist monks and samurai. Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the sixteenth-century feudal lord regarded as the second Great Unifier of Japan was said to have used it to focus his mind for both the strategy of battle and the politics of peace. Could Lord Hideyoshi ever have fathomed, I wonder, that some 600 years hence, ikebana would be a truly global phenomenon?
An ikebana arrangement in the Ikenobo Ikebana Rikka Shōfutai style at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2023
“In Japanese culture ikebana is also called Kado – the path of flowers,” says Rie, who as well as leading today’s workshop is President of the London UK Chapter of Ikenobo Ikebana – Japan’s oldest Ikebana school. “Everything in Japanese traditional culture has a path – for example, Sado is the tea ceremony path, and martial arts have a path called Budo. You train not by reading but through sensing, practicing the art, to understand nature and yourself. Through the discipline, hopefully you’ll reach a higher spiritual level. It’s about always practicing – I tell my students to keep going and they will eventually find something they’ve not discovered before – that is the treasure we’re looking for.”
Like the tea ceremony, calligraphy and haiku poetry, ikebana has a deep cultural significance. Strongly shaped by Buddhism, the idea of revealing the spirit of a plant aligns closely with the Shinto value of natural balance, purity, and respect for life. By extension‚ bringing plants indoors was – and still is – a way to find meaning and acknowledge the significance of nature.
The contrast between this slow, quiet creativity and the frenetic tempo of 21st-century life is stark. In our fast-paced world, people are once again searching for inner calm. Increasingly many of them are finding it through ikebana.
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Satoko Matsuda (left) talks with designer Keiko about her ikebana arrangement in the Great Pavilion during press day at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2021
Satoko Matsuda (left) talks with designer Keiko about her ikebana arrangement in the Great Pavilion during press day at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2021
It’s not the first time that this style of floristry has been trendy in the UK. British florists began working with it through the middle of the 20th century as the ideal floral complement to the clean lines and minimalism of the Mid-Century Modern interior style. In Britain, Stella Coe was the principal proponent of ikebana at the time, achieving the status of Riji, or Master – one of the first outside Japan. She organised the first British chapter, which began meeting in London in 1958 and, in 1979, she was awarded the RHS Veitch Memorial Medal for her work in promoting the art in the UK.
In stark contrast to much traditional floristry practice, for which flowers are flown in from hot-houses in far flung corners of the world, for ikebana, stems, leaves and blooms are picked locally, reflecting micro-shifts in the waxing and waning seasons. And this is all-important. A dying iris leaf streaked with gold and bent by wind, plucked from a pot in one’s own back garden, is as worthy an item to display as one crisp and green in the first flush of growth. “We use a lot of half-withered leaves, because it shows the progress of nature,” says Rie. “My students are sometimes surprised they can put dying leaves in an arrangement, even an insect-eaten one – suddenly it’s a different kind of appreciation. You might see the marks of the insect and it will start you wondering what made them. The shapes can be interesting, and those leaves can be a focus point.” The ability to appreciate beauty in aging stems and seedheads is a relatively recent development in Western gardening, popularised by new
Rie believes this approach is tied to Japanese philosophies of acceptance and resilience. Here there are echoes of wabi-sabi – the idea of finding beauty in imperfection and impermanence. Many gardeners come to her courses, she says, because they’re already in tune with this idea: “In every plant everything is progressing, approaching an end. Ikebana is about appreciating every stage of life – even in the leaves that are dying, there is beauty. The season is the most important part of ikebana.”
This call for connectedness feels like a modern idea – a backlash to the kinds of practices that have led us into climate and
Minimalist design, maximum impact
The oldest school of Ikebana was founded around 1462 at the Rokkaku-do temple in Kyoto by Buddhist monk Senno Ikenobo. To this day, this temple remains the centre of the Ikenobo school. “The headmaster is the 45th generation of the same family, and there are still monks looking after the temple, right in the middle of Kyoto,” says Rie. “Every November, we stage the oldest and biggest ikebana exhibition there – it’s a really important event.” Ikenobo is marked by its discipline – arrangements are minimalist and meticulously designed. They’re often tall, slim and use just one or two plants, aiming to express their inner essence. Other arrangements may use more plants, to create a landscape, or focus on more complex composition.
From the Ikenobo school, hundreds of offshoots of ikebana have evolved over the centuries. Two more styles well-known outside Japan are the Ohara and Sogestu schools. Ohara developed in response to Japan opening its borders to international trade in 1895 – dahlias, tulips and more were available for the first time. Unshin Ohara, the school’s founder, produced the revolutionary moribana style – literally meaning flowers piled up – which has a flatter, fuller look influenced by Western styles. It was the floral equivalent of the Impressionist movement in Europe – somewhat scandalous at the time but game-changing for the art.
The youngest school is Sōgetsu, founded in 1927, so a mere nonagerian. Sōgetsu departed even further from tradition, with founder Sōfū Teshigahara believing the best way to make ikebana is to learn the rules, then break them.
“Ikebana’s influence is increasingly visible in contemporary floral design, especially as sustainability becomes a central concern in the industry,” says Scarlett Szeto, President of the Ikebana International London Chapter, an organisation that promotes ikebana around the world. “One of the most notable shifts is growing use of the kenzan as a sustainable alternative to floral foam,” referring to the pin cushion-like, stem-supporting implements integral to modern ikebana. “This blend of artistry and eco-consciousness has resonated strongly with a new generation of florists, many of whom – including Wagner and Mariusz – have a strong background in ikebana. They’re exploring its techniques, philosophies and cultural roots, often integrating them with modern styles to create innovative arrangements that honour tradition while embracing change. They skilfully incorporate its principles into their designs, creating compositions with both elegance and mindfulness.”
Indicating the way ikebana has intertwined with the art world, the most striking designs can look more like surreal abstract sculpture than floristry. In the last decade, the terms freakebana, baroque ikebana and punk ikebana have emerged to describe some of these creations, playful spins on ikebana combining flowers with everyday objects such as a shoe or kitchen scourer to create an almost grotesque aesthetic.
Style for all seasons
The Ohara School of Ikebana at the RHS Hampton Court Flower Show 2017
Lespedeza thunbergii AGM, Wisteria floribunda, Rodgersia podophylla and Camellia japonica are more of her favourites. They have in common a distinct structural quality – the arching stems of lespedeza, the long racemes of wisteria, the geometric flowers of a camellia. Woody plants hold their shape when inserted into the pins of a kenzan. The firmer a stem, the more useful it can be for creating the main holding structure of an arrangement. Though of course that’s not to say you can’t work with softer, more flowing plants such as spring and summer bulbs.
My own first ikebana arrangement is a simple thing – some snowberries, part of a date palm leaf and that chrysanthemum. To my untrained eye it’s almost too humble but Rie is encouraging. I still have much to learn, but I’m fascinated.
Equal parts mindful, beautiful and sustainable it’s no wonder ikebana is taking root so deeply in 21st-century Britain. In a productivity-obsessed modern age, some may dismiss flower arranging as frivolous, but ikebana gives us permission to take it seriously – to appreciate it as an ancient art. A meditation. Even a way of life.
How arrange ikebana
1. A tall container is best for a slim arrangement. Fill it three quarters with gravel to raise the internal level if needed. Nestle a kenzan (a metal base with wire pins) in the gravel or Blu-Tack it to the base of the pot. Top up with water.
2. Select the stems that form the basis of your design. Here it’s the pussy willow. Focus on placing the long stems first – just two or three are needed. Push them straight into the kenzan then tilt them to one side to create an elegant angle.
3. The stems should be asymmetrically arranged, but also balanced. Consider the negative space around them. To make the stems arch more gracefully into the space you desire, gently grasp them, bending them gradually, all the way along.
4. Introduce the secondary material. Like these faded iris leaves, this should complement the first main material, not distract from it. Make sure you can see space around each leaf, so as to appreciate their innate character.
5. In traditional ikebana, Narcissus should have one flower stem and four leaves – you can combine these in a piece of the lower stem – known as the sheath – to make the right amount. Try to preserve the leaves’ powdery coating as you work.
6. Remove individual florets from each cluster of flowers to leave just two or three – you should be able to appreciate the delicate shape of each bloom. Add two or three flowers at the centre of your design to bring in the focus.
7. The final arrangement is graceful and natural-looking. The shape of the willow stems and iris leaves echo each other as if they have been caught by the same breeze. Display ikebana with plenty of space around it to allow you to imagine the plants reaching for the sky.
