Ikebana's Quiet Revival: Ancient Japanese Flower Art Draws Modern Seekers of Calm

Ikebana, the Japanese art of arranging flowers, has been practised for more than five centuries. Today it is finding a following beyond traditional circles, attracting newcomers who describe its combination of creativity and mindfulness as restorative.

At its heart, ikebana resembles solving a puzzle — except that no single answer exists. Every flower is different, and so is every person arranging them, which means the possible solutions are many.

Hiroyuki Okada, 40, took up lessons about seven years ago and now teaches Ikenobo, the oldest of the three major ikebana schools. A former nonprofit worker who also teaches backflips, he usually dresses in silver chains and jeans, but wears a formal kimono when he demonstrates arrangements. He sees himself as typical of those drawn to the art today: people in search of joy, purpose or relief from the pressures and pains of modern life.

"In arranging (flowers), you are dealing with the life that is there, the beauty, of course, but you find what's in your heart," Okada said. "You come face to face with yourself."

The Kyoto-based Ikenobo school, rooted in Buddhism, now has chapters worldwide. Okada's own path to ikebana began after his previous job brought him into contact with people from many countries, showing him how different — and how alike — people can be. When he moved to a flower shop, he chose a distinctly Japanese pursuit, one he could continue for years and practise alone.

Ikebana is an engagement with nature on a small scale, usually within a vase. "It is about the relationship of the creator with the flowers," said Senko Ikenobo, headmaster-designate of the Ikenobo school, whose family traces its line to the art's originators. Her father is the current headmaster.

Jeannette Haviland-Jones, a professor of social psychology at Rutgers University, said studies have shown that flowers and even their scents promote happiness, suggesting a coevolutionary theory in which flowers became the "pets" of the plant world. Beyond beauty and fragrance, the feel of petals and leaves matters, Okada said, much like petting a kitten or puppy.

Practitioners range from toddlers copying their mothers to devoted centenarians. Senko Ikenobo said she has seen ikebana help women balancing work and motherhood, or caring for ageing parents. Mayu Shimizu, who works for an online educational service and has studied under Okada for about three years, likens its effect to yoga, meditation or play. "I like this moment of nothingness when you are concentrating on the flowers before you," she said. "My mind feels clearer. I feel more at peace, and gentle."

One traditional Ikenobo form, shoka shofutai, arranges flowers, leaves and branches as they might appear in nature — reaching for sunlight or bending in the wind. The vase, sometimes of wood or pottery, becomes part of the composition. The result is pure and simple, expressing a flower's life cycle from blossoming to withering through three main elements. Shin, the tallest, is placed first and represents one's core reaching skyward. Soe, trimmed to about two-thirds the height of the shin and set to the side, expresses individuality, its leaves sometimes slightly faded to suggest later life. Tai, the third element, stands for the future, chosen from blossoms or fresh small leaves — things being born.

Freer spinoff styles, closer to casual Western bouquets than the stoic, textbook-oriented shoka shofutai, can feel easier and more enjoyable for beginners. Those who practise the art say it connects a person with flowers, and also carries the tradition across generations, linking people to one another.