Written by a mindfulness tea teacher, Miki Sensei.
Today I’d like to talk about tea utensils, specifically the chasen (茶筅), or bamboo tea whisk.
The tearoom is often described as a universe in itself, composed of the Five Elements: wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. During the moment of tea, one can truly feel this. Perhaps that is why people have been drawn to this world for a long time, allowing us to connect freely with the source of life, and why this culture has endured for more than four hundred years.
The utensils used in the tea ceremony also embody this principle in visible form. Tea bowls and sweet dishes are made of clay (earth), kettles of iron (metal), and many other materials. However, the most frequent is bamboo. From the chasen and chashaku (茶杓 - tea scoop) to the hishaku (柄杓 - ladle), and sometimes even lid rests and flower vases, bamboo is present everywhere.
Bamboo has long been one of the most familiar plants in Japan. Its rapid growth and durability make it a highly practical material, but beyond that, bamboo symbolizes an ideal way of being: it is hollow yet strong, marked by distinct nodes, and grows straight and flexible toward the sky. People have often projected their own aspirations for life and character onto its form.
Given that bamboo has been used in everyday tools for centuries, it is not surprising that it is so extensively used in tea utensils. However, within the context of tea, bamboo seems to hold an even more sacred role.
The bamboo tools—chasen, chashaku, and hishaku—are all held directly in the hand. They become extensions of our fingers and arms, moving together with our bodies as we draw water, scoop tea, and whisk. It fills me with deep reverence that these tools, which connect us to nature and to something greater than ourselves, are made of bamboo. The chashaku, in particular, may be handcrafted by the host themselves; they choose the bamboo, shape it, and give it a name. It sometimes becomes the very centerpiece of the gathering.
At a formal tea gathering or tea ceremony, new utensils are crafted or specially prepared for the guests and the occasion. Bamboo and plain wooden utensils, in particular, are seen as symbols of purity and are intended to be used for that singular moment, that one ichigo ichie (一期一会). Even the tearoom itself was built solely for the occasion and dismantled afterward. Welcoming even one guest required total devotion—body, mind, heart, and life. With this understanding, it is clear why the Way of Tea resonated so deeply with the samurai.
The three Sen families of tea have their utensils traditionally crafted according to each school’s aesthetic preferences by the Senke Jisshoku (千家十職), the Ten Artisan Houses (potters, lacquerers, metalworkers, bamboo artisans, and so on), forming a kind of hereditary guild system. Notably, however, chasen makers are not included among them.
The chasen is considered a consumable tool. Even today, each one is made entirely by hand by a chasen craftsman. As a traditional Japanese craft, nearly 100 percent of chasen still produced in Japan are made in just one place: Takayama-cho in Ikoma City, Nara Prefecture, by only sixteen households. Despite bamboo growing throughout Japan, chasen have continued to be made exclusively in this town.
One theory holds that, after the fall of Takayama Castle, lower-ranking samurai who lost their positions began making tea whisks to survive. To this day, the craft is passed down through isshi soden (一子相伝) only to the eldest son, and only through verbal communication, making it a closed tradition. Traditionally, the work has been done at night, and for some craftsmen, it still is. Chasen maker Tango Tanimura once suggested that this pride—as an artisan (士 - shi) rather than a master (師 - shi)—may be why chasen makers never sought inclusion among the Ten Artisan Houses.
Like all tea utensils, a chasen is a work of art, born from extraordinary labor and skill. Yet unlike other utensils, or other consumables such as tea or sweets, it is rarely given a maker’s name or poetic title, nor regarded as an item of fame. Still, among all tea utensils, the chasen alone is irreplaceable. If tea bowls, tea scoops, or tea containers are missing, substitutes can be found. But tea can only be whisked with a chasen.
At the end of last year, I had the opportunity to meet Mr. Tanimura and observe him craft a chasen before my eyes, listening to his stories. Every step of the process was breathtakingly beautiful. I was even given the opportunity to experience the fourth step, the thread binding step called itokake (糸掛け). Watching the final finishing touch felt almost magical...each movement seemed to breathe purity, quiet elegance, and life into the whisk. The beauty of the finished product was something I could admire endlessly.
The fact that such an artwork is regarded as a nameless consumable struck me deeply. It felt like a reflection of the Japanese sense of beauty in impermanence, an attitude that honors what exists precisely because it is fleeting. Since then, the way I treat my chasen has changed.
When you look at your chasen, what do you see?
And how do you choose to live with it?
Next time, with this passion in my heart, I’d like to explore further into the process of making a chasen, what defines a good one, and how to care for it properly.
Written by:
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Miki Fujisaki, hibana to bloom founder, mindfulness tea facilitator/coach Website: https://www.hibana-to-bloom.com/ nstagram: @hibanatobloom / @mikiwisteria |
Miki was born in Osaka and began her journey in Urasenke Chado while working as a Japan Airlines cabin attendant. During her time in London, she planned and managed Japanese cafes ("Matcha" and "Cha no Ma"), and after her return to Japan, she oversaw international project planning.
To deepen her understanding of spaces and relationships where individuals coexist, illuminate, and nurture, Miki studied coaching and facilitation. Currently, she holds tea gatherings and coaching sessions for individuals and companies in tea rooms, offices, online, and overseas. Her work is centered around the theme of interbeing, cultivating a sense of interconnectedness, mindfulness, and "here-and-now."