T
he secret green room is the deepest area of this sinking garden. It’s a round room based on the perfect and metaphysical figure of the circle. It is the centre not of the physical limits of the garden but of the mental boundaries of the visitor; of his own real and imagined world. It’s the pairidaeza; it is the place where appearances draw attention to itself demanding the visitor’s powers of observation.
T
he tall hedge walls obstruct the view although, at the same time, they give the possibility to “see” more: the less is visible the more is seen; the less the view is distracted and the more can be seen. The inner gaze of the mind is free to wander. It is the mind, where only ideas meet and embrace each other; the mind which does the seeing by and through the eye. The way of seeing is a depth perception.
A
nd in the centre of the room is the stone. The stone is a central element not only of the Zen Garden but also of the Japanese house and tea garden. It shows a face to the world while its underside is concealed from the view. The stone, partly buried, possesses the special power to transmit energy along its axis. But the visitor of the secret green room has still the choice to get closer to the stone making it “alive”. The stone, as a matter of fact, responds to the visitor’s movements with light and music ultimately contributing to his self-awareness. The stone in the secrete room fixes the central point; the still point of the turning world.
54
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance. Excerpt from T.S. Eliot Four Quartets /I: Burnt Norton, 1935
I
f the visitor fails to reach the secret green room,he is facing a further choice: to leave the garden with the feeling that he has just crossed a dull hedge maze or eventually to try other paths to see whether he has missed something. If the visitor instead has experienced the inner centre he has still a choice: to turn back to the same direction where he came from or to continue to the opposite way looking for new challenges. Many pathways lead to the paradise, perhaps as many as there are its seekers. Yet one thing is certain - there is no certain pathway to reach it.
T
he design ultimately can be seen as a metaphor for our constant search for a meaningful life. Our society, today, is dynamic in three senses of the word. First, it is in the process of change; second, change is taking place at an increasing speed; third, the process of rapid continuous change is completely remaking our society. Changes don’t occur in a context of stability but the entire context is changing. Changes are always ahead of our understanding of them and this dynamism affects us enormously.