A tokonoma of hands

When the Japanese word tokonoma 床の間 is parsed, toko describes the raised floor, while ma identifies a gap or space, a pause or moment. The combination of these terms identifies an alcove built into a Japanese-style room, especially one designed for tea ceremony. 

The tokonoma’s architectural rendering informs its purpose: a display space featuring an ikebana arrangement of the season along with a hanging scroll of calligraphy or painted image. The complement of a piece of pottery or another crafted object further punctuates the synergy between flower and scroll. Together, these representations of art and nature aim to elicit a cohesive meaning as well as deliver an aesthetic experience.

Secular tokonoma evolved from the Zen monk altar, a private place for a contemplative scroll and incense. Behind the tokonoma lingers Zen sparseness and its spiritual foundations of mindfulness and beauty. Serving as a space where a tea guest pauses and beholds the scroll and other samplings art and nature before engaging in a ritual presentation of tea, the tokonoma also instills a sense of humility and respect—mental preparation to receive a cup of tea in full awareness of the moment.

The tokonoma is among the most codified, concentrated representations of fusing art with life. But a tokonoma of the hands? Hands are integral to art and life. Hands create meaning and purpose: from selecting materials and understanding their properties to forming them into an object and generating added purpose, meaning, and often, beauty. When open palms offer something to another, the hands are the vehicle of intimacy and connection. And when our own hands receive that something, they apprehend its feel and form, awakening the senses. Placed in open hands, WoodPaperHand’s rotating presentation of an image of a person, place or thing extends the tokonoma’s role of offering an experience of beauty, consciousness and meaning. \ | | | |