My Encounter with Japanese Gardens (Part 3): Styles, Forms, and Final Reflection

 A kaiyu-shiki or strolling garden at Ritsurin Garden in Takamatsu, Kagawa

By the time we reach the question of styles, something important has already happened.
We are no longer looking at Japanese gardens as an abstract idea. We begin to recognise them as lived expressions—different responses to the same philosophy of nature, balance, and impermanence.

Each style carries its own interpretation of space, silence, and symbolism.

In this final part, I will explore the major styles of Japanese gardens, and how each one reflects a different way of seeing the natural world.

Types and Styles of Japanese Gardens

• Zen Rock Garden Style

• Tsukiyama Style

• Hiranaiwa Style

• Chaniwa Tea Garden Style

• Chisen Kaiyū Shiki (Strolling Pond Garden)

A. Zen Rock Garden Style: Precise and Meditative

This type of garden, mostly found in monasteries, represents Zen spiritualism and is also known as a sand and stone garden. The garden is confined within a defined boundary, isolating it from external visual distractions.

Usually, this type of garden does not include plants and trees, and water is substituted with carefully raked sand. The stones and rocks are artistically placed at symbolic locations and carry deeper spiritual interpretation.

One of the most famous examples of a Zen garden is Ryōan-ji in Kyoto. This is a rectangular garden with white walls on three sides, and on the fourth side is a verandah used as a place for meditation. It has carefully raked white sand with rocks arranged in a simple but artistic manner.

The sand is meant to disconnect the visitor’s mind from the outside world, allowing personal interpretation and meditation. There are 15 stones arranged in clusters of two, three, and five. Only fourteen stones are visible from any point on the verandah. It is said that when the viewer achieves enlightenment, the fifteenth stone becomes visible.

B. Tsukiyama Style: Natural Landscape Captured

The literal meaning of Tsukiyama refers to the creation of artificial hills. These gardens vary in size, and that determines how they are experienced.

Smaller gardens are viewed from a fixed point like a verandah, while larger ones are experienced by walking along a winding path.

Hills, waterfalls, streams, ponds, trees, flowering plants, bridges, and walkways are used to create a miniature reproduction of natural scenery, often inspired by famous landscapes in Japan or China.

Shrubs are used to block views of surrounding buildings, helping the garden feel more immersive and natural. The design often guides attention toward nearby mountains or borrowed scenery.

A well-known example is the Tenryū-ji Temple garden in Kyoto, which features a beautiful Tsukiyama layout.

C. Hiranaiwa Style: Simple, Open and Flat Gardens

This style of garden sits between Zen gardens and natural gardens. The most prominent visible characteristic is the raking of sea sand in circular patterns, symbolizing enlightenment and happiness.

Similar to Zen gardens, water is not physically used but is represented through raked sand. Other elements include white sand, evergreen plantings, moss, grass, and flowering plants.
Rocks are grouped into formations resembling tortoises or cranes, symbols of longevity.

D. Chaniwa Tea Garden Style: Hidden in Nature

The tea garden is closely intertwined with the Japanese Tea Ceremony. The designer of a Chaniwa garden aims to create a feeling of peace, solitude, and quiet reflection.
These gardens are usually attached to a ceremonial tea house and divided into an outer and inner section.

Essential elements include stones, stone lanterns, and traditional water basins, all arranged with symbolic interrelationships. Each element is placed with utmost care.

The outer garden serves as a waiting area for guests and may include a wooden bench with straw cushions, along with water and heating arrangements depending on the season.
Guests use the water to wash their hands and rinse their mouths as a symbolic act of purification before entering the tea house.

The inner garden surrounds the teahouse and is visible only from inside. The path leading to the teahouse is carefully designed, with trees arranged in clusters to gradually restrict and reveal views, creating a sense of transition.

E. Chisen Kaiyū Shiki Style: Strolling Pond Garden

This style evolved as the strolling pond garden, created for aristocrats and feudal lords as recreational spaces.

These gardens were sometimes designed as reflections of one’s birthplace, distant travels, or famous landscapes in China or Japan.

An earlier form, known as Chisen Senyū Shiki, was popular during the Heian period, where gardens were often viewed from boats on ponds rather than walked through.
The strolling garden includes ponds, waterfalls, streams, bridges, and islands connected by stone or wooden walkways. Pagodas and other architectural elements are placed throughout the garden.
These gardens have inspired poetry and art for centuries.

Example: Kenroku-en Garden, Kanazawa

The Kenroku-en Garden in Kanazawa is one of the most famous examples of this style.
Located outside Kanazawa Castle, it originally formed part of the outer garden and spans approximately 114,436.65 m². It contains around 8,750 trees and 183 species of plants.

Key highlights of this garden include:

• The oldest fountain in Japan, powered by natural water pressure
• Yūgao-tei, the oldest teahouse in the garden (built 1774)
• Shigure-tei, a rest house reconstructed in 2000
• Karasaki Pine, grown from seed brought from Lake Biwa
• Kotoji-tōrō, a two-legged stone lantern symbolizing a koto bridge
• Flying Geese Bridge (Gankō-bashi), made of 11 red stones
• Kaiseki Pagoda, said to have been donated by Toyotomi Hideyoshi

Conclusion

Designing a Japanese garden requires both artistic and spiritual understanding, as it is deeply rooted in philosophy and tradition. While this exploration may not make one an expert, it certainly brings clarity to what a Japanese garden represents.

Photos of Gardens:

 Garden of the Adachi Museum of Art near Masue

  

 Karesansui garden at Ryōan-ji in Kyoto

 Kōraku-en in Okayama

 Tea Garden (Kotoin Temple in Kyoto)

 Tenryū-ji Garden in Kyoto

Famous-kyoto-Tsukiyama garden

My Encounter with Japanese Gardens (Part 2): History and Essential Elements

Famous-kyoto-Tsukiyama garden

Brief History of Japanese Gardens

The art of Japanese gardens dates back to the reign of Empress Suiko around 592 AD, though there is evidence suggesting it existed even earlier.

The most significant development came during the Nara period (646–794 AD), when trade and cultural exchange with mainland China flourished. This brought subtle yet impactful changes to Japanese culture. Gardens began to include animals, birds, and fish, and were often used for private gatherings and feasts.

During the Heian period (794–1185 AD), foreign influence reduced, and Japanese gardens returned to traditional values, often adapting to limited resources. However, the earlier Chinese influence remained, resulting in a rich and elegant blend. Garden layouts were often inspired by myths and legends.

A major shift occurred during the Kamakura period (1185–1392 AD), when Zen Buddhist monks began designing gardens for meditation rather than pleasure. Decorative elements gave way to simplicity and subtle beauty. Stones, water, and evergreen trees became key elements, symbolising permanence and eternity.

This minimalist approach reached its peak during the Muromachi and Higashiyama periods (1392–1573 AD), where gardens were sometimes created entirely with stones in monochrome compositions. The Hira-niwa (flat garden) style also emerged during this time.

Later, during the Edo period (1603–1867), a reaction to this simplicity brought back more elaborate and vibrant gardens. The strolling pond gardens became popular among aristocrats, showcasing wealth and refined taste.

Essential Elements of Japanese Gardens

Water
Water is a fundamental element, representing rivers, lakes, or seas. It avoids geometric shapes to maintain a natural appearance.

Plants and Trees
Carefully selected species such as Japanese Maple, Bamboo, Pine, and Cherry trees create seasonal variation and symbolic meaning.

Buildings
Structures like temples, tea houses, and pagodas blend seamlessly into the garden, often serving as focal points or borrowed scenery.

Bridges
Both functional and symbolic, bridges encourage movement and contemplation.

Walls
Walls help create separation from the outer world and define space, often using natural materials.

Lighting
Stone lanterns are used both for illumination and symbolism, each uniquely crafted.

Stones and Rocks
Stones represent strength and are carefully arranged to symbolise natural forms.

Waterfalls
They symbolize the journey of human life—from birth to death.

Fish (Koi)
Koi fish are decorative yet symbolic, representing perseverance and vitality.

Lion Statues
Placed at entrances, they symbolise protection and balance, representing opposing forces like yin and yang.

Photos of Elements:

What we have seen so far are the foundations—the history that shaped them and the elements that define their physical presence.

But Japanese gardens are not static definitions. They evolve into forms, each expressing a different philosophy of space, nature, and perception.

In the final part, we will move from structure to expression—exploring the different styles of Japanese gardens and the meanings they quietly carry.

My Encounter with Japanese Garden (Part 1): Where It All Began

Karesansui garden at Ryōan-ji in Kyoto

Introduction:

Once not long back in the recent past, I was faced with the task of preparing a scope of work for a Japanese Garden. Not being a landscape designer, it was a rather daunting task to define the scope and review the design thereafter. Until then, I had no idea that Japanese gardens could be such a vast subject. To be honest, I did not expect that it would be such a difficult thing just to figure out what a Japanese garden ought to look like.

The more I tried to get a grip on this subject, the more lost I found myself. As I started my research, I got inundated with detailed information. It took a lot of effort before I could build some basic understanding. In the few paragraphs that follow, I have documented what I learnt about Japanese gardens. I would have loved to call this post “Japanese Garden for the Dummies,” but decided otherwise, as this is not as comprehensive as the title would suggest.

The Japanese garden embodies native values, cultural beliefs, and religious principles of the Japanese people. Just like there is no single philosophy or aesthetic principle, there is no one prototype for Japanese gardens. There has been constant influence on Japanese culture and art from mainland China, which has made all forms of Japanese art evolve continuously. Another factor that contributed to the evolution of different styles of Japanese gardens is the changing tastes and financial conditions of the patrons.

Design Philosophy and Concept

In a well-designed and authentic Japanese garden, it may be difficult to establish that it has been designed at all, as it appears completely natural. The principles of design are so deeply rooted in life, philosophy, and tradition that each element feels perfectly suited to where it is placed. Traditionally, the garden is planned to symbolise the “Life of Man.”

There are two common misconceptions about Japanese gardens.

The first is that Japanese gardens follow strict ground rules. This is not entirely correct. While designers may follow guiding principles, creativity is not confined to rigid rules.

The second is that Japanese gardens are primarily miniature gardens. This is also not correct. 

They are designed for full-scale experience. The use of bonsai may sometimes create an illusion of miniature.

All gardens are representations of nature. The purpose is to capture nature in the most natural way, with a touch of artistic expression. Japanese gardens have an ancient history influenced by Shinto, Buddhist, and Taoist philosophies. These influences bring a strong spiritual dimension to the space.

They are often created as quiet places where people can sit, reflect, and meditate. This quality is largely attributed to Buddhist influence. The design concept is developed by striking a delicate balance between nature and human intervention.

The line between the garden and its surrounding landscape is intentionally blurred, making one an extension of the other. There is no rigid distinction between the garden and the natural or architectural elements around it.

Essential Elements of Japanese Gardens:

• Water: 
• Plants/ Trees:
• Building: 
• Bridges: 
• Walls: 
• Lighting: 
• Stones/ Rocks: 
• Waterfalls:
• Fish: 
• Statues of Lions:

Types/ Styles of Japanese Gardens: 

A. Zen Rock Garden Style: Precise and Meditative

B. Tsukiyama Style: natural landscape captured

C. Hiranaiwa Style: Simple, Open and Flat garden

D. Chaniwa Tea Gardens Style: Hidden in nature

E. Chisen Kaiyon Shiki Style: Strolling pond garden

What began as a professional task gradually turned into something far more personal—a quiet journey into understanding how deeply philosophy, culture, and design can intertwine in something as seemingly simple as a garden.

I had stepped into this subject thinking I was defining a scope of work. Instead, I found myself trying to understand a way of seeing the world—where nature is not arranged, but revealed; where design is not imposed, but listened to.

And perhaps that is what makes Japanese gardens so difficult to define, yet so compelling to study. They do not announce themselves loudly. They unfold slowly, like thought itself.

In the next part, I will explore how these ideas took shape over time—the history of Japanese gardens, and the essential elements that bring them to life.

Because before we can understand the styles, we must first understand what they are made of.

I particularly mention wikipedia.org, japan-guide.com, Japanese Gardens by Gunter Nitschke and book preview of Jayne Miller for being conducting this research.

 A kaiyu-shiki or strolling garden at Ritsurin Garden in Takamatsu, Kagawa

 Garden of the Adachi Museum of Art near Masue

  

 Kōraku-en in Okayama

Famous-kyoto-Tsukiyama garden

Everyday Spaces

Interior Design is all about people. The whole idea is to create an environment within a space that sets the scene for the next act. Every space is designed for a specific purpose—and most definitely, designing the space itself is not the purpose.

Design has the potential to evoke different emotions depending on how it is conceived and executed. It can make you relax—or, for that matter, make you restless. A waiting space could invite you to lounge for hours, like a hotel lobby, or make you edgy, like waiting at a bus station.

One doesn’t have to be formally trained to engage with design. We have all grown up watching our mothers arranging spaces with intent—creating zones within a home without ever naming them as such. And now, we see the same instinct in our children, setting up their own worlds with toys and imagination.

The real question, then, is: what makes a “good” interior design for a particular space?

The honest answer is—no one really knows. There is no single solution.

Unfortunately, the answer we often encounter is that everyone seems to know. Spaces get filled with symbols associated with a style or tradition, as if assembling a checklist. More often than not, this results in imitation rather than interpretation—design without depth, intent without coherence.

A couple of weeks back, I found myself in one such space while taking refuge from the sweltering heat at a car wash in Doha, Qatar. The waiting area was clearly attempting a traditional Arabic theme—low-level majlis seating, fabrics with regional motifs, familiar patterns. The intent was visible.

But the experience wasn’t seamless.

The air-conditioning units stood out. The water dispenser felt misplaced. The appliances—functional as they were—did not belong to the story the space was trying to tell. The result was not discomfort, but a quiet disconnect.

It reminded me of a visit many years ago to a restored fort in Oman. There too, modern interventions existed—but they were concealed, integrated, respectful of the narrative. Wiring, fixtures, utilities—all present, yet invisible to the experience. The intent was there but the execution was not. The desire was to restore the old fort, they ended up modernising it but that is another story to narrate.

That, is where design moves from imitation to understanding.

Good design is not about choosing the right motifs—it is about ensuring that every element, visible or invisible, speaks the same language. When intent and execution align, even the most functional object becomes part of the story. And when they don’t, even the most beautiful setting feels incomplete. 

The purpose of space design lies not in borrowing identities, but in integrating them—quietly, thoughtfully, and with respect for both form and function.

Boutique Hotels and a Few Other Hotels

How do you impress a traveler who has seen it all and had it all? Being pampered every morning is routine—it no longer excites him. To delight such a guest, you need to offer something beyond the predictable. Something more than the run-of-the-mill.

In 2008, I stepped away from my routine life in Kuwait and moved to the bustling city of Dubai. The brief was both exciting and unfamiliar—to be part of a team managing the design of a themed development. At the heart of that project was a boutique hotel—an equestrian-themed property envisioned as a destination for horse lovers and an experience for the adventurous.

It was then that I was confronted with a simple but fundamental question:
What exactly is a boutique hotel?

This question led me to explore what was then a relatively new concept—the “Boutique Hotel,” which first emerged in the early 1980s.

The first boutique hotel in the world opened its doors to guests in 1981: The Blakes Hotel in South Kensington, London. This was the creation of celebrity designer Anouska Hempel.

The second was the Bedford Hotel in Union Square, San Francisco. This later became part of a series of boutique hotels operated by the Kimpton Group, one of the most prominent players in this segment.

In 1984, Ian Schrager opened the Morgans Hotel in Murray Hill, New York City, which was designed by French designer Andrée Putman.

I shall attempt to describe boutique hotels the way I perceive them and, in the process, highlight what goes into the making of one of these.

Today’s travelers—business and leisure alike—expect more than simple comfort and convenience. More and more of them prefer to be “surprised” as part of their hotel experience, rather than encountering standard features defined in the design and operating manuals of luxury hotel brands.

One of the principal driving forces behind this concept is individuality. The individuality of the guest, the proprietor, the staff, and the hotel atmosphere itself. All of these are blended into the design of the hotel and reflected in its service and operations.

To put it another way, distinction, style, intimacy, and warmth are key elements that feature in the briefs sent out to architects and designers—and eventually find their way into the operating philosophy. These come as an added layer while still exceeding the expectations of any comparable premium, world-class product.

Many boutique hotels are based on specific themes. One of my earlier projects was an equestrian-themed boutique hotel, where the guest experience revolved around various aspects of horses and their interaction with humans. Undoubtedly, a place created to be a perfect retreat for horse lovers.

Many boutique hotels introduce different themes in each guestroom, as well as in floor lobbies and corridors—making every stay unique, even for repeat guests.

Innovative ideas go a long way in designing a boutique hotel and providing guests with a unique experience. Service is just as important as design.

One such innovation is the honesty bar, where you pour your own drink and record your own consumption. It is not only about pampering guests with what they need, but about involving them in the experience—making it interactive and memorable.

Boutique hotels rely heavily on word-of-mouth for their marketing.

Typically, boutique hotels began as unique properties operated by individuals or small groups. However, their success has encouraged large multinational hotel companies to enter this space and establish their own brands within this niche segment.

Following are a few uncommon hotel concepts:

Capsule Hotel, Japan

Cave Hotel, Turkey

Floating Hotel - Sweden

German Prison Hotel

Hotel made of Sand in England

Houses in Mexico

Ice-hotel, Canada

Jumbo Hostel, Sweden

Poseidon Undersea Resort, Fiji

Sewage Pipe Hotel, Austria

Tree House, India

Bricks and The Bytes

One should not use oneself as a yardstick, as it may lead to biased inferences. But in this instance, I am referring to something that is already part of history.

Fifteen years back, if someone had time-travelled and told me that in the year 2010 we would be shopping directly from our computers, I would have categorised them as yet another science fiction writer. Today, standing in the middle of 2010, I have no hesitation in admitting that I would have been grossly mistaken.

I will also be mistaken again if I assume that within the next 15 years commerce will completely migrate to the electronic format. But definitely, a major portion of it will shift, while computers and smartphones will enjoy a significant share of that pie.

The new era of shopping will look something like what is shown in a video from Cisco, conducted from the comfort of one’s home or workplace. This is the future of shopping.

I enjoy strolling through malls—doing what is popularly known as window shopping—appreciating the displays as much as the overall ambience, while indulging in impulsive buying once in a while. This is particularly true during summers, when there is no better escape from the harsh Middle Eastern weather.

As a tribute, I have dedicated a few of my earlier posts to showcasing the beautiful and glitzy malls of Dubai. Now I feel an urge to take a break from those physical spaces and explore how things are shaping up in the cyber world—a glimpse into malls made of bits and bytes instead of bricks and mortar. Some of the screen grabs of virtual mall strolling is included below.

With due respect to Amazon and its tribe (let their tribe increase), I still have not found a virtual mall that impressed me enough to showcase. However, there is no denying their growing popularity, and perhaps the day is not far when all malls will be compelled to operate their own virtual branches—not just a homepage.

The trend is most definitely pointing towards malls on the internet. The primary objective of both physical and virtual malls is the same: to sell merchandise while constantly catering to different categories of visitors and offering them an experience that compels them to return.

They showcase products in a way that allows shoppers easy access to what they need, while also tempting the casual visitor to buy something she did not plan for—and perhaps did not even need.

Many will agree that this does not happen automatically. The design team—comprising architects, engineers, interior designers, and other specialists—plays a critical role in helping mall owners extract that extra dollar.

To understand why virtual malls are not as evolved as their physical counterparts, a bit of self-analysis of mall design is necessary. In my opinion, both physical and virtual malls should be built on the same fundamental design principles. They should offer a similar shopping experience to users and visitors alike.

While it is well accepted that any developer will engage architects, engineers, and interior designers at the concept stage of a physical mall, there still seems to be a notion that a handful of programmers and computer specialists can assemble a virtual mall on their own.

Perhaps this reluctance to accept that a virtual mall requires a team of artists, graphic designers, and 3D visualisers—supported by programmers and software engineers—is the biggest hurdle. Maybe this is why they are not evolving at the same pace as physical malls and are still leaving much to be desired.

It should be similar to conventional malls, where architects and interior designers lead the front-of-house experience, while structural and MEP engineers handle the back-of-house systems.

Another obstacle is undoubtedly the mindset of people, which needs to be addressed. The sense of insecurity created by periodic bad publicity around cybercrime is significant.

While statistics show that the number of crimes in the cyber world is far lower than in the physical world, this lack of confidence among shoppers still persists. A well-lit mall with security cameras and uniformed guards naturally provides visitors with a sense of safety and comfort.

Cybersecurity systems must take a giant leap to achieve anything remotely similar. What is often overlooked is that we tend to lose more in conventional malls than in virtual ones. While a cyber fraudster might steal your credit card details and drain your limit, a pickpocket in a physical mall could take your entire wallet and multiple cards at once.

Yet, this threat does not stop us from going shopping. For shop owners, a few physical security measures can reduce pilferage, but if someone breaks into an online store, they can potentially create far greater damage.

And finally, it is only a matter of time before the Bytes catch up with the Bricks.

 

A peep into the malls made out of bits and bytes