Customer Reviews

The Wabi-Sabi House: The Japanese Art of Imperfect Beauty

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I admit that I am not sure what to think of this book (and my revisions of this review reflect that).The author works for Interweave Press, whose magazines I purchased for many years, and I have to say that her genuine humility and open-ness shine through the book. The description, and the general idea, sounded wonderful: learn to simplify, appreciate what you have, embrace imperfection, etc. etc. But.....

The "imperfection" referred to here is not the reality that your table has coffee rings on it which you can't get out. It's the subtle irregularities found in really good hand-thrown pottery, for instance, or the slight wavery imperfections found in old glass.This is a huge, huge, difference. Be aware that this book talks mostly about very expensive ways to implement this philosophy, which comes out of Japanese feudal times, and was dictated by the tastes of their nobles. Since the emphasis is upon natural materials and hand-made articles, with mass-produced and mass marketed items frowned upon (however well made or designed), it's not a book for decorating from your favorite mass merchandiser. Note the bit about mass-marketing: wabi-sabi doesn't care if it's in good taste or well-designed. If it's not unique, it doesn'et want it. I fail to understand why good design becomes bad just because other people appreciate it. Nor is it really about appreciating what beauty there is in that couch that your sister passed on to you after it got given to her by someone who was going to throw it out.

And therein is the rub... wabi-sabi attracts those who, like myself, are on quite a budget. Alas, the standards it sets are very high. The author, who is herself on a budget, is free in admitting that she can't make the cut for her ideas of wabi-sabi, and a lot of the book is about her musings on how her own life doesn't meet these standards. There are real gems in here, but they are tned to float around in a sea of recommendations that left me feeling guilty about my home.

For instance, it gives as an example the author spending literally years with a duvet cover sewn from two sheets, until she could afford to pay a group of American quilters to spend three months hand-sewing a quilt. (One is temmpted to ask if the sheets were handwoven, and what about the duvet itself?) The author talks freely about how she does not like her vinyl flooring; during the remodel she did not have the money for the type of flooring she would have liked, and she had to have something to finish it up. It seems to me that something has gone rather wrong with a concept that is supposed to help people simplify and enjoy their lives, imperfections and all, when it leads to more guilt trips over meeting a standard that is just not obtainable by most of us.

The pity is that there are some wonderful concepts struggling to break free of a rigid identification with the tastes of an antique Japanese feudal system. The whole idea about wabi-sabi was for the Nobility of that time to use what was available to them from rustic local producers, instead of items imported from mainland China, which were more expensive, more "perfect", and more colorful. For them, this was simplification. What would be the equivalent for us nowadays? Ideas about quiet and perhaps pulling back on housekeeping perfectionism are worth looking at. Were we to really look at using what is appropriate to our lives (instead of tormenting ourselves because it was made by machine), we'd all do much better.

And I must say that the "inside confessions" of what it is like doing home photo shoots for a magazine (she has directed many) are definitely worth reading. I'm probably going to get a clothesline up (as soon as I can afford one) and knit some dishcloths from the cheap cotton yarn I have hanging around. (The author keeps mentioning knitted dishcloths, and I had never thought about it.) I don't know if it will be wabi-sabi. But it will be what I can do.

I have read a handful of books dealing with the Japanese concept of wabi sabi (variously translated as "the art of imperfection" or "the beauty of the old and the new"), everything from Soetsu Yanagi to Leonard Koren. This book by Robyn Griggs Lawrence continues in the same vein of trying to put into words for a Western audience an amorphous and ambiguous idea, specifically as it applies to home decor.

For the most part the author gets it right. She gives the reader a little bit of historical background into the idea (its roots in Zen Buddhism and development from the tea ceremony) and then shows examples of how to put it into practice in a Western context. This is not a book about decorating your home in a neo-Japanese style, but rather how to make tangible a Japanese-originated aesthetic philosophy.

In some ways, she goes beyond the strict confines of home decor and discusses wabi sabi in other areas of life, which is appropriate because wabi sabi, as I unerstand it, is really a whole school of thought. In one chapter she delves into crafts, from knitting to woodworking to cooking. I found this interesting because I am a hobby woodworker/furniture maker who is slowly crafting most of the furniture my family lives with.

I realized, in reading this book, that wabi sabi is an aesthetic I have been reaching for in a number of areas without knowing until recently what it was called. For years I have been interested in a variety of topics, including Zen, environmentalism, the voluntary simplicity movement, modern design and architecture, and woodworking. Wabi sabi is the theme that ties these interests together. It is an approach to life, not just a decorating style or, worse, a magical, mystical belief in the power of red satin under your mattress and mirrors above your stove (`a la "feng shui", the popular Chinese-based belief in the flow of energy patterns in a building).

While mostly positive about this book, I do have a couple bones to pick. Griggs Lawrence is a big advocate of shopping in flea markets and antique stores, looking for the piece with just right wabi sabi patina of age and imperfection. Personally, I have no use for other people's old stuff. Just 'cause it's old, don't make it valuable. Why would I want to buy somebody else's history? To me, finding something that is fresh and new, innovative in the way it accomplishes a task, simple and engaging in its design, and gets incorporated into my daily routine is a better expression of wabi sabi than finding an old wash basin at a garage sale and using it as a fruit bowl.

Case in point: Griggs Lawrence has a predilection for a good cup of tea and even takes a swipe at Americans and their need for fancy cappuccino makers. Whoa there! Now she's hitting a little too close to home. My wife and I love a good cappuccino. Last Christmas I bought us what many might consider an extavagant Italian coffee machine. In actuality, it is quite simple (no fancy automatic controls), but it is built like the proverbial Sherman tank. I am quite sure it will survive decades of heavy daily use. After almost a year the gleaming stainless steel exterior has begun to mellow and it has become an integral part of our everyday life. Getting up at daybreak and going through the routine of making my wife a cappuccino with all the love and caring I can has become a sort of daily moving meditation for me. This coffee machine is just as much an expression of wabi sabi as the simple glass vase that displays a single flower sitting on the floating wooden shelf I made in the dining room.

All in all, though, if your are interested in the concept of wabi sabi this is a good book. If you are truly interested in wabi sabi as an aesthetic there are other books that will go deeper into roots of the idea. If you are interested in how the concept has been expressed by artists and craftsmen (perhaps without mentioning the phrase), there are books about that too. Most of these are listed in the excellent bibliography of the Griggs Lawrence book, one of the highlights of the book.

I've only started reading The Wabi-Sabi House by Robyn Griggs Lawrence, but I was immediately mesmerized by her chapter "Give Space a Chance," which explains why an uncluttered, simple approach to rooms is so comfortable and appealing. Already I've started pulling knickknacks and books off the shelves in our living room to create a quieter, more Zenlike atmosphere. And, I've reorganized my bedroom dresser (using Lawrence's suggestion to undertake just one small thing at a time so as not to be overwhelmed). Now my overflowing jewelry box has been augmented with a jewelry drawer that hides little trays that hold all my earrings so I can see them quickly and easily.

I'm sure the rest of the chapters in this book will inspire me to make other changes in my living and storage spaces so that my lovely home can become even more beautiful and sanctuary-like.

My sense was different from that of a different reader. I felt that the author was encouraging all of us to make things ourselves--not just purchase expensive handmade items. To create beauty from our own history--family pictures, stories, relics--that evoke timeless good feelings. To not discard things we love just because they become worn--to learn to repair and maintain them, to recognize the character in nicks and scratches, and frays. To look for the sacred aspect in our surroundings--that our furnishings and possessions affect us and express us, so their selection, presentation, and maintenance are worthy of our attention and discrimination (in the best sense). And anyone who still thinks that the author is elitist should keep in mind the quote she included from 1960's House Beautiful editor, Elizabeth Gordon: "If you can't find beauty--for free--when you are poor, you won't be likely to have it when you are rich...even though you may have bought and paid for it." Everyone can have a wabi sabi house: it is in the eye of its beholder, its creator.

I ordered this book eager to learn more about an aesthetic that I personally subscribe to and practice with my art. While I resonated with the introductory pages, once getting into the heart of its text I have been severely disappointed. In fact, I just can't even read it. I wish I could send it back and demand a refund. The author's discussion reads more like the typical home magazine articles that target women yearning for crafty ways to live. But what finally stopped my perusal looking for something more substantive was when she started describing how to fold laundry or hang the toilet paper roll--! Please. BTW, I am a middle-aged woman, so know that I am not dumping on that segment. It's just that this book is really a disappointment--and a testament to why buying books at your local independent bookseller, where you can pick them up and scan the inside before spending hard-won money on them, is the best bet.

i like this book for several reasons. first, it is just aesthetically pleasing to look at and to hold. a great coffee table book. secondly, it is written in a way that weaves together history and examples of the philosophy of wabi sabi with many areas of interest (i.e. architecture, art, tea ceremony, design, sense of self). it is easy and relaxing to read. an interesting idea and nice book.

It is a unique way of looking at and bringing the simple life into your home through your attitude and day to day.

Normally I prefer to read an entire book before giving my thoughts, but this has quite a few original ideas. I thought it would be a good idea to let you know what I have learned so far and perhaps peek your own interest. Robyn Griggs Lawrence does a good job of that for me.

First, the pictures in the book are wonderful! Peaceful, calming and yet convey the spirit of what Wabi-Sabi is. She also blends in some great quotes throughout the book and breaks up the chapters here and there, expanding on different ideas of decluttering and rules to help yourself "not have too much".

Second, she has stories of Tea masters and other cultures interwoven through the book as she explains what Wabi-Sabi is. I found the best quote about 40 pages in to the book.

"It's been said that modern Americans face more choices in one trip to the grocery store than our grandparents faced in their entire lifetimes. All that freedom of choice is reflected in most of our homes, littered with more furnishings and gadgets than we will ever really need."

Finally, she takes the time to explain what Wabi-Sabi is, in all its unique beauty, attitude and perspectives. What is Wabi-Sabi? I'll let Robyn and the pictures explain it to you.

Dawn C.
http://www.frugalforlife.com

I have told everyone I know to get this book as a starter to the world of Wabi-Sabi-- a beautiful cover also makes it lovely to look at and I like the sepia pages... I have re-examined my life using some of her practical tips. Get it if you are curious about this art of imperfection...

This book is a fabulous and thought-provoking read discussing the Japanese philosophy of "Wabi-Sabi" - the art of the old/cherished/well made but yet imperfect object. Ms. Lawrence discusses not only the idea of wabi-sabi, but captures the Japanese ideal and uses it as a lens to examine North America's fast-paced throw-away culture. A wonderful work intertwining history, philosophy, and interior design.

There is so much beauty in simplicity. This book offers many helpful suggestions in how to simplify your decor and your life.