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Contributions to Books:

A. Mahdavi:
"The Dao of Chabudai";
in: "First in a series of architectonic objects - the Table", V. Bühlmann, E. Chiappone-Piriou, G. Fassl (ed.); issued by: Department for Architecture Theory and Philosophy of Technics - Institute for Architectural Sciences - TU WIen; Eigenverlag, Wien, 2017, (invited), 129 - 132.



English abstract:
September 1999 in Kyoto, I felt young, strong, entitled, and entirely enlightened. Yet I still needed the intervention of a Japanese colleague, who knew of my Zen affinity, to get access to Obai‐in, one of the superb sub‐temples of Daitoku‐ji. There is arguably something incongruous about feeling simultaneously enlightened and entitled. Then again, for something to be set right, it must be wrong first.

I spent a couple of blissful hours in the awesome venue, assuming all the while I was alone. But as I turned around the corner of the tea room, I noticed a monk sitting behind a Chabudai[1] with his back to the wall. We both nodded, and I was about to continue with my walkabout when he introduced himself as Eisai, and pointed to the pad in front of the Chabudai, suggesting that I sit opposite him.

"Now you are not so tall anymore," Eisai said smiling. "Does moon really grow and shrink?" I asked.

"Even though you are just on the other side of the Chabudai, you are far away, even farther than moon is from the sun."

"What does sun know of the vast darkness?"

"I see. It is getting darker. Come back tomorrow. Ask for Ekaku."

The following day, I went back to Daitoku‐ji and asked for Ekaku as instructed. I was let in Obai‐in. I went around the tea room and found the Chabudai, but neither Eisai nor anyone named Ekaku was to be found. However, there was a piece of paper under a little stone on the Chabudai. On the paper it was written: "This is a mistake. You have woken up the Obai‐in Daemon. You have to go. Come back again tomorrow. This time, ask for Ippen for help."

I did go back next day, asked for Ippen, and was let in again. I should have known. Eisai was not there, nor anybody named Ekaku or Ippen. And this time, the Chabudai was gone too.

In May 2012, I was back in Kyoto, with a close friend. One evening, we went to a traditional tea room. We sat opposite each other at the Chabudai, and were served tea. My friend was pouring tea into my cup, as suddenly something clicked. I must have sat there for ages, until she pulled me out of my oblivion.

"Your tea has turned cold", she said, "Where have you been?"

"I finally figured out what I have been doing in the last thirteen years: It has been like a slow motion Chabudai Gaeshi[2]. All due to my three rascal friends, Eisai, Ekaku, and Ippen," I said, looking straight through her sky-blue eyes.

"So, the Daemon is not raging anymore?" She asked. I did not answer, instead, I clandestinely touched her foot under the Chabudai.

"Perhaps you don't need to go back to Obai‐in", she smiled, "I see the Chabudai gets in your way no more."



[1] Chabudai: A short‐legged traditional Japanese table
[2] Chabudai Gaeshi: Violent overturning of a Chabudai due to anger and frustration.

German abstract:
(no english version) September 1999 in Kyoto, I felt young, strong, entitled, and entirely enlightened. Yet I still needed the intervention of a Japanese colleague, who knew of my Zen affinity, to get access to Obai‐in, one of the superb sub‐temples of Daitoku‐ji. There is arguably something incongruous about feeling simultaneously enlightened and entitled. Then again, for something to be set right, it must be wrong first.

I spent a couple of blissful hours in the awesome venue, assuming all the while I was alone. But as I turned around the corner of the tea room, I noticed a monk sitting behind a Chabudai[1] with his back to the wall. We both nodded, and I was about to continue with my walkabout when he introduced himself as Eisai, and pointed to the pad in front of the Chabudai, suggesting that I sit opposite him.

"Now you are not so tall anymore," Eisai said smiling. "Does moon really grow and shrink?" I asked.

"Even though you are just on the other side of the Chabudai, you are far away, even farther than moon is from the sun."

"What does sun know of the vast darkness?"

"I see. It is getting darker. Come back tomorrow. Ask for Ekaku."

The following day, I went back to Daitoku‐ji and asked for Ekaku as instructed. I was let in Obai‐in. I went around the tea room and found the Chabudai, but neither Eisai nor anyone named Ekaku was to be found. However, there was a piece of paper under a little stone on the Chabudai. On the paper it was written: "This is a mistake. You have woken up the Obai‐in Daemon. You have to go. Come back again tomorrow. This time, ask for Ippen for help."

I did go back next day, asked for Ippen, and was let in again. I should have known. Eisai was not there, nor anybody named Ekaku or Ippen. And this time, the Chabudai was gone too.

In May 2012, I was back in Kyoto, with a close friend. One evening, we went to a traditional tea room. We sat opposite each other at the Chabudai, and were served tea. My friend was pouring tea into my cup, as suddenly something clicked. I must have sat there for ages, until she pulled me out of my oblivion.

"Your tea has turned cold", she said, "Where have you been?"

"I finally figured out what I have been doing in the last thirteen years: It has been like a slow motion Chabudai Gaeshi[2]. All due to my three rascal friends, Eisai, Ekaku, and Ippen," I said, looking straight through her sky-blue eyes.

"So, the Daemon is not raging anymore?" She asked. I did not answer, instead, I clandestinely touched her foot under the Chabudai.

"Perhaps you don't need to go back to Obai‐in", she smiled, "I see the Chabudai gets in your way no more."



[1] Chabudai: A short‐legged traditional Japanese table
[2] Chabudai Gaeshi: Violent overturning of a Chabudai due to anger and frustration.

Created from the Publication Database of the Vienna University of Technology.