Interpretation of the document of transmission of the character 謙, given by the Keidō Katayama-ryū school.
This is my reading of the 伝授之書 I have received. Throughout, I distinguish between what the document says literally and what it means that my teacher handed it to me together with the school’s official history and organizational chart.
My interpretation is that this document carries a meaning considerably deeper than that of a simple diploma for having completed three years of Keidō study.
From its title, from the character bestowed upon me, from the text that explains it, and from being issued in the name of the III Iemoto, I understand it as a formal document of bestowal of a character that expresses the ethical principle that should guide my path within the Keidō Katayama-ryū school.
Two questions need to be kept apart:
What the title, the character bestowed and the explanatory text establish.
That my teacher handed it to me together with the school’s official history and organizational chart.
| Title | Meaning |
|---|---|
| 伝授denju | To transmit or formally confer knowledge, a teaching or a tradition. |
| 之書no sho | Document, or piece of writing. |
It is therefore not merely a record of attendance nor a conventional academic certificate. Its title presents it as a document of transmission.
That said, the title alone does not prove that this is a teaching licence, a specific technical grade, or a succession within the school. To determine that, one must look at the content, and this document states expressly what is being transmitted.
The character in the large central calligraphy.
What matters most is that the document does not simply assign me a character to complete my artistic name. It explains expressly why it is bestowed and what it expects it to represent in my conduct.
The sentence that introduces that explanation is:
The verb 授けるSazukeru: to bestow, grant, confer. (sazukeru) means to bestow, grant or confer. It is not a simple personal choice of a name: the text presents the character as something handed to me by the authority of the school, accompanied by a teaching on its meaning.
Original Japanese and translation, line by line.
There is one sentence that, to my mind, sums up the meaning of the whole document: the one you have just read. It changes entirely how I read this gift. It does not hand me only an artistic identity: it entrusts me with a way of conducting myself and of continuing my training.
This is not a generic remark about humility. The document expressly mentions the person who was born in another country and wishes to learn Japanese culture.
This places my training in a very specific perspective: learning Keidō does not consist only of acquiring technical knowledge about bonsai, suiseki, calligraphy or kazariThe art of composing and arranging display elements in the tokonoma.. It also demands learning to observe, to listen and to understand a tradition that precedes me and of which I am part as a student.
Moreover, the text does not ask me to give up my own personality or my experience. It asks me not to place them before the teaching I am receiving.
For me, this is the most beautiful passage in the document, because it connects the character 謙 directly to the art of bonsai.
The text says that a tree does not reach its true beauty by letting its branches grow freely. It must accept pruning, hold back part of its strength, and pass through long years before it acquires a presence of its own. And it adds:
The comparison is precise:
| In the tree | In my path |
|---|---|
| 伸びる力The strength to grow | My knowledge, my experience and my abilities. |
| 剪定Pruning | Correction, discipline and the acceptance of the teachings of others. |
| 長い年月Time | The years of practice that no title can replace. |
| 風格The presence of the mature tree | A way of doing and of being that expresses the training received without needing to proclaim it. |
The document does not ask me to be less capable. It asks me to place my abilities at the service of a training that continues.
And there is an important nuance: the humility it describes is neither blind obedience nor weakness. It is the strength of one who can keep learning, admit what they do not know, and return to the starting point as many times as necessary.
This is where the two documents take on particular importance when considered together.
It identifies the school, its historical path, its structure and the Iemoto who have headed the tradition. It situates the tradition to which I belong as a student.
It links my personal training to a specific character and to the principles I am to follow from now on. It personalizes that relationship through an individual bestowal.
The document is addressed to 勝讓殿Dono: a formal honorific suffix added to the addressee’s name in documents., a respectful form of address for Masaru Buko. At the bottom, the school and the 三世家元 (San-se Iemoto), the third Iemoto, are expressly identified.
The combination is significant: it is not simply that my teacher gives me a piece of calligraphy with an inspiring message. The text presents itself as a document of the school, addressed to me, explaining the reason for bestowing 謙 and issued in the name of its highest authority.
The document textually attests the bestowal of the character 謙 and the ethical teaching associated with it; it does not expressly declare that I am granted a teaching licence, a particular technical rank or a position of succession within the school. Nor does it state that I have definitively completed my training.
After three years of study, I read this document on three levels.
I am given a name that I must turn into a way of life. 謙 is not simply something I may write beside my name: it is a commitment to myself.
I am reminded that technical knowledge is not enough. The sensitivity to arrange a stone, a tree, a kakemono or any other element also depends on my ability to observe, understand and respect what is before me.
The bestowal links my individual path with Keidō Katayama-ryū and with the authority represented by its III Iemoto. The document hands me a principle that I shall have to demonstrate over time, not through declarations, but through my practice.
I receive this document as the formal bestowal of a character, accompanied by an ethical responsibility for my path within Keidō. The title Denju no sho, the explicit explanation of the bestowal, the identification of the school and the reference to the III Iemoto give it an institutional meaning that goes beyond a personal dedication. The text makes clear that what is asked of me is not to reach a position, but to keep training with humility.
One last difference seems essential to me: the document is addressed to Masaru Buko, the name I already had, while the character bestowed is 謙 (Ken). Its meaning, therefore, is not only that I receive a new artistic name, but that I take a principle into my path.
The document does not present humility as something I have already attained after three years, but as something I must keep cultivating in the years ahead.
And this fits the bonsai metaphor the text itself uses: a tree does not acquire its true presence by having finished growing, but by the way it passes through time and training.