一椀に
四季を聴く
In one bowl, the four seasons
Kyoto · Since 1868 · 明治元年
Emptiness is not
absence. It is room
for the guest.
We practice ma, the art of the interval. The pause between pouring and drinking. The silence between two words. The white of the paper around a single brushstroke. Our tea room holds only what it must, so that you may bring the rest.
ただ湯をわかし
茶をたてて
のむばかりなる
本を知るべし
Three scrolls,
hung one season at a time
Forty minutes,
four hundred years deep
RojiThe dewy path
You cross the garden slowly. Each stepping stone is set a half-breath apart, the pace is chosen for you, so your thoughts can fall behind.
NijiriguchiThe crawling-in door
The entrance stands two feet high. Shōgun and merchant alike must bow to enter. Rank waits outside with your shoes.
TemaeThe preparation
Water sounds change as it heats, we listen for "wind in the pines." The whisk moves. Nothing else does.
Ichigo ichieOne meeting, one chance
This gathering, this light, this bowl, none will occur again. Drink accordingly.
Six guests. No menu.
One fire.
Seatings at dawn and dusk. We serve what the season insists upon. Reservations open on the first day of each month, and close when the room is full, usually by noon.
Request a seat