Zen Garden Guide to Japanese Rock Gardens and Karesansui

Japanese Dry Garden: The Art of Karesansui

A Japanese dry garden, also known as karesansui or a Zen rock garden, is one of the most recognized styles of Japanese landscape design. Instead of lush greenery or flowing water, it relies on carefully arranged stones, raked gravel or sand, trimmed shrubs, moss, and the occasional water feature. The sand or gravel is combed into delicate patterns to suggest ripples across water, creating a calm and meditative space.

Zen gardens are most often found in temples and monasteries. They are usually modest in size, framed by walls or wooden structures, and meant to be viewed from a single angle, such as the porch of the hojo, the head monk’s living quarters. Visitors rarely step into these gardens, since the gravel takes the place of grass and is only disturbed for upkeep. The first classical Zen gardens were built in Kyoto during the Muromachi period and were designed not to copy nature directly but to capture its spirit. Their purpose was to guide meditation and contemplation.

Origins of Stone Gardens in Japan

The tradition of stone-based gardens in Japan dates back to the Heian period, which lasted from 794 to 1185. One of the earliest and most important records of Japanese gardening is the Sakuteiki, or Records of Garden Keeping, written in the late 11th century by Tachibana no Toshitsuna. This manual gave detailed instructions on how rocks should be placed within a garden.

Japanese dry gardens were influenced by Chinese garden philosophy during the Song dynasty, between 960 and 1279. In this tradition, stones symbolized sacred places such as Mount Penglai, a mythical island believed to be the home of the Eight Immortals. In Japan, this same mountain was known as Horai, and the concept carried into the design of rock gardens.

Styles of the Karesansui Garden

The Sakuteiki outlined several variations of rock and dry gardens. In spaces without a stream or pond, a dry landscape or karesansui could be created. Upright stones represented mountains, while others were arranged to form miniature hills, ravines, and valleys, often with very few plants. Other types of gardens combined rocks with flowing water, including the great river style, the mountain river style, and the marsh style. Another version, the ocean style, used wave-shaped stones placed beside white sand, imitating a shoreline.

White Sand, Gravel, and the Spirit of Zen Gardens

White sand and gravel have played a role in Japanese gardens for centuries. In Shinto tradition, they symbolized purity and were spread around shrines, temples, and imperial grounds. Within Zen gardens, the same sand and gravel took on new meaning. They were used to stand in for water or, much like empty space in Japanese ink paintings, to suggest distance, silence, and the void. These landscapes became places for quiet thought and meditation.

Cultural Growth During the Muromachi Period

The Muromachi period, which overlapped with the European Renaissance, was a turbulent time in Japan’s history. Constant rivalries between political leaders often turned violent. Yet this same period produced some of the most important cultural achievements of Japan. Noh theater, the tea ceremony, the shoin style of architecture, and the Zen rock garden all emerged during this age.

The Rise of Zen Buddhism in Japan

Zen Buddhism reached Japan toward the end of the 12th century and gained popularity quickly, especially among samurai and military leaders. Its focus on discipline and inner control resonated with the warrior class. The first Zen temple gardens looked much like their Chinese counterparts, with ponds, streams, and small islands. But in Kyoto during the 14th and 15th centuries, a new style began to take shape. These gardens stripped nature down to its essence, arranging stone, sand, and moss to form abstract landscapes meant to inspire meditation.

As scholar Michel Baridon explained, nature in its reduced and symbolic form could evoke deep thought through its simple presence. Stones, already significant in Chinese gardens, became in Japan frozen landscapes in miniature, scenes that felt outside the flow of time. Their stillness carried the same effect as moments of suspension in Noh theater, which developed during the same era.

Saihō-ji: The Turning Point in Zen Garden Design

Many historians point to Saihō-ji, also called Koke-dera or the Moss Temple, as the first garden to embrace this transformation fully. Located in western Kyoto, the temple was rebuilt into a Zen monastery in 1334 by the monk and Zen master Musō Kokushi. He designed the surrounding gardens in two distinct styles.

The lower section followed the traditional Heian model, with a pond and rock formations shaped into islands. The upper section, however, marked a break with the past. This dry rock garden featured three symbolic stone arrangements. One, Kameshima or “island of the turtle,” was shaped like a turtle gliding through moss. Another, Zazen-seki or “meditation rock,” was a flat stone believed to radiate silence and calm. The third, kare-taki or “dry waterfall,” was built from flat granite laid in steps to mimic falling water.

The moss that covers much of the site today was not part of Musō Kokushi’s original plan. It appeared naturally after centuries of neglect, yet it has become the temple’s most famous feature. Visitors now know Saihō-ji less for its rocks and more for the sea of soft moss that seems to flow like water around the stones.

The Evolution of Zen Gardens in Kyoto

Muso Kokushi, a celebrated Zen monk and garden designer, created another landmark garden at Tenryū-ji, known as the Temple of the Celestial Dragon. This design drew heavily from Song dynasty Chinese landscape paintings, which often showed towering misty mountains and deep, layered perspectives. At Tenryū-ji, the garden combined a real pond with water and a stone waterfall arranged to resemble a painted Chinese scene. Together with Saihō-ji, Tenryū-ji marked the switch from the lush Heian style toward a more stylized and abstract view of nature.

The Silver Pavilion and Its Unique Sand Landscape

Muso Kokushi is also credited with shaping the gardens at Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavilion. While the grounds included a traditional pond, they also introduced a striking new element to Japanese garden design. In one section, raked white gravel formed an open space, highlighted by a carefully shaped mound of gravel representing Mount Fuji. This feature, called ginshanada or "sand of silver and open sea," later became known as kogetsudai, meaning "small mountain facing the Moon." The concept of building miniature Mount Fuji replicas from sand or earth, sometimes covered in grass, became a lasting tradition in Japanese gardens for centuries.

The Iconic Zen Garden of Ryōan-ji

Among all Zen gardens in Kyoto, none is more famous than Ryōan-ji. Built in the late 15th century, this garden broke new ground by becoming entirely abstract. Covering about 340 square meters, it contains fifteen stones of varying sizes arranged into five distinct groups: one group of five, two groups of three, and two groups of two. The stones sit on a bed of pure white gravel, which monks rake daily with meticulous care. Only patches of moss around the stones break the otherwise stark simplicity. The garden is designed to be seen from a seated position on the veranda of the hōjō, the abbot’s residence, reinforcing its meditative purpose.

Daisen-in and the Garden of Life’s Journey

The garden at Daisen-in, created between 1509 and 1513, introduced a symbolic, narrative approach. Here, a "river" of white gravel tells the story of human life. It begins with a rocky waterfall in the mountains, flows through turbulent rapids, then moves past scattered stones before reaching a calm sea of raked gravel. Two gravel mounds rise at the end, completing the metaphor of life’s journey from beginning to end.

Zen Gardens and the Influence of Ink Painting

The rise of Zen gardens was closely tied to the development of Japanese ink landscape painting. Artists like Sesshū Tōyō, who lived from 1420 to 1506, and Soami, who died in 1525, stripped down their depictions of nature to its most essential forms. Their paintings often showed stark contrasts of black and gray brushwork surrounded by large untouched white spaces, leaving much to the imagination. Soami is often associated with the design of Ryōan-ji and Daisen-in, two of Kyoto’s most iconic Zen gardens, though his role has never been proven with certainty.

French historian Michel Baridon once remarked that the famous Zen gardens of the Muromachi period revealed how Japan had elevated garden design to its highest intellectual form.

From the Edo Period to the Modern Era

When the Edo period began, large stroll gardens became the most popular style in Japan. These expansive landscapes invited visitors to walk along winding paths, but Zen gardens remained at temples as places for stillness and meditation. Though fewer new dry gardens were built during this time, some appeared in spaces where streams or ponds could not be added.

In 1880, tragedy struck Tōfuku-ji, one of Kyoto’s oldest temples, when fire destroyed its main buildings. Decades later, in 1940, the temple hired Shigemori Mirei, a landscape architect and historian, to redesign the grounds. He created four distinct gardens around the temple’s central hall. Each had its own character: one featured five grassy hills symbolizing Kyoto’s five great temples, another showcased a modern rock arrangement representing Mount Horai, a third displayed a vast “sea” of white gravel raked in a checkerboard design, and the last was an intimate space with swirling patterns in sand.

Zen Gardens Beyond Japan

Over the past century, the influence of Zen gardens has spread far beyond Japan. From private homes to public parks, their minimalist style and meditative purpose have inspired adaptations around the world, carrying the tradition into new cultural landscapes while preserving the spirit of simplicity and reflection.

Selection and Arrangement of Rocks in Japanese Dry Gardens

The heart of a Japanese dry garden lies in its stones. Rocks are not just decoration but stand-ins for mountains, rivers, waterfalls, and islands. Carefully shaped shrubs, known as karikomi or hako-zukuri topiary, are often placed beside the stones to suggest natural scenery. Moss is also a common element, spreading across the ground to mimic forest-covered land.

The placement of rocks is considered the most important step in building a Zen rock garden. The earliest gardening manual in Japan, the Sakuteiki or Records of Garden Making, described this process as ishi wo tateru koto, meaning “the act of setting stones upright.” The text gave detailed rules for selecting and positioning stones and even warned that breaking these rules could bring misfortune to the garden’s owner.

In Japanese garden design, rocks are grouped into five main types: tall vertical, low vertical, arching, reclining, and flat. To suggest mountains, gardeners often choose sharp, rugged volcanic stones. For the edges of gravel paths, rivers, or seashores, they prefer smooth, rounded sedimentary rocks. Unlike Chinese gardens from the Song dynasty, which often showcased unusual or animal-shaped stones as the main attraction, Japanese gardens focus on balance and harmony within the whole composition rather than highlighting a single dramatic rock.

The Sakuteiki set out many guidelines for arranging stones. Every rock should be turned to display its best side. A rough or unattractive top can be tilted so the smoother sides are visible, even if the stone leans at an angle. Horizontal stones should outnumber vertical ones. Leaning stones must have supporting stones, and “running away” stones should be paired with “chasing” ones to create balance.

Rocks are almost never placed in straight lines or perfect symmetry. Instead, the most common layout is a group of three. A frequent triad shows one tall vertical stone flanked by two smaller ones, symbolizing the Buddha with his two attendants. Other traditional combinations include a tall vertical paired with a reclining stone, a short vertical with a flat stone, or a trio of tall vertical, reclining, and flat. Designers also vary the color, size, and shape of rocks while avoiding bright colors that distract the eye. Another rule is to keep the natural grain of the stones running in the same direction for visual unity.

Toward the end of the Edo period, a new idea was introduced: suteishi, or “discarded stones.” These were placed casually in unexpected spots to give the garden a more spontaneous, natural feeling. Alongside this, gardeners continued to follow the long-held principle of balancing vertical and horizontal stones to maintain harmony in the overall design.

Gravel in Japanese Zen Gardens

Gravel plays a central role in Japanese dry gardens, more so than sand. It is chosen because it resists wind and rain better, keeping the garden’s design intact for longer. Monks rake the gravel into flowing patterns called samon or hōkime, which resemble rippling water or waves. The practice is both artistic and meditative. Perfecting the lines takes skill, since the rake must move around stones and other features inside the garden. The patterns are not meant to remain fixed. Gardeners often change them, exploring new designs as a way to express creativity. Four traditional raking styles are common: straight lines, waves, scroll shapes, and checkered designs.

Although it is called suna, meaning sand, the gravel is made of much larger pieces. The stones range in size from about 2 millimeters up to 30 or even 50 millimeters. In Kyoto, the preferred gravel has long been Shirakawa-suna, a muted, black-speckled granite taken from the Shirakawa River. This gravel blends three minerals: white feldspar, grey quartz, and black mica, giving it a soft, natural color that suits Zen garden aesthetics. Its rough, irregular texture helps grooves last for weeks without losing definition, unless disturbed by weather, animals, or people.

Kyoto alone contains over 340 garden areas across 166 temples, covering more than 29,000 square meters, where Shirakawa-suna has been used. The gravel appears in entryways, main courtyards, corridors, and walking paths. Designers use it in four main forms: spread gravel, raised terraces, piled mounds, and pathways. In smaller gardens under 100 square meters, the gravel bed is usually 20 to 50 millimeters deep, with stones averaging around 9 millimeters. Famous temple gardens like Ryōan-ji and Daitoku-ji both made use of this material.

Historically, Shirakawa-suna was collected from the upper Shirakawa River, but since the 1950s, the river has been protected, making extraction illegal. Over time, the gravel naturally breaks down into finer particles, so caretakers must replace it to preserve the garden’s clean patterns. Because the river source is no longer available, modern gardens rely on crushed granite from mountain quarries. These substitutes share the same mineral composition but are more uniform and rounded, which makes them less effective at holding raked lines. Some gardens outside Japan, such as the Portland Japanese Garden, have experimented with Canadian granite chips as an alternative.

Maintaining the gravel is an ongoing task. In Japan, caretakers typically tend to it two or three times each month, ensuring the garden’s surface remains sharp, balanced, and true to its design.

Symbolism in Japanese Rock Gardens

In a Japanese rock garden, stones often carry layered meanings. A single rock might stand for a mountain, especially Horai, the mythical island said to be the home of the Eight Immortals in Taoist legend. In other settings, stones can represent boats or living creatures such as a turtle or a carp. When arranged in groups, they may suggest a crane in flight or a cascading waterfall.

During the Heian period, early rock gardens sometimes carried political messages. The Sakuteiki, the oldest manual on Japanese garden design, explained that a mountain without stones was destined to be worn down by water, just as an emperor without advisors risked being overthrown by his subjects. In this teaching, stones gave stability to the mountain in the same way that loyal counselors gave strength to a ruler. For this reason, the text urged gardeners to always place stones around a mountain when creating a landscape.

Not all Zen gardens are equally direct in their symbolism. At Daisen-in, for example, the garden tells a clear story that reflects the journey of life along a flowing river. At Ryōan-ji, however, the meaning is far less obvious. Over the centuries, interpretations have varied widely, with some seeing the garden as a series of islands in a stream, others as mountain peaks above the clouds, or even as baby tigers at play. Some theories explore geometry, balance, and the use of odd numbers. Garden scholar Gunter Nitschke argued that Ryōan-ji is not a symbolic picture at all but rather an abstract arrangement of natural elements designed to spark meditation.

More recently, researchers Gert van Tonder of Kyoto University and Michael Lyons of Ritsumeikan University suggested that the stones at Ryōan-ji may form a hidden image of a tree. According to their study, the human subconscious picks up on a subtle connection between the rocks, which could explain the calming effect the garden has on visitors.

Landscape Painting and the Zen Garden Debate

Chinese landscape painting arrived in Japan alongside Zen Buddhism in the fourteenth century. For a long time, many believed that Zen shaped the design of Japanese gardens. But that idea didn’t actually start in Japan. It was first proposed in the 1930s by Loraine Kuck, a garden writer from Hawaii. Decades later, in 1988, historian Wybe Kuitert challenged the claim, arguing that Zen priests never intended gardens to be expressions of Zen philosophy. His critique sparked a wider discussion, especially in the 1990s when scholars began reexamining how Zen had been promoted and interpreted in the West.

Much of the criticism rests on the fact that the supposed “proof” of Zen’s influence comes from quotes by priests that were not about gardens at all. Instead, they were passages borrowed from Chinese writings on landscape painting. Other researchers, including David Keane, Günter Nitschke, and Kendall H. Brown, imitated Kuitert’s position, distancing the Japanese garden from being labeled as purely Zen. In Japan, Yamada Shouji went further, questioning the entire view of Japanese culture as being defined by Zen, gardens included. Later, Christian Tagsold summarized the debate by placing the discussion of Japanese gardens within a broader comparison of how both Japan and the West interpret cultural traditions.

Links Between Landscape Painting and Garden Design

Despite the debate, one point remains clear. Many Zen priests openly referenced Chinese texts on landscape painting. The design of karesansui gardens, or dry landscapes, was directly shaped by these artistic traditions. The connection between painting and gardening was strong, especially among the literati, scholars, and artists who were heavily influenced by Chinese culture.

The guiding principle was to create a three-dimensional version of monochrome ink paintings, known in Japan as sumi-e or suiboku-ga. These artworks used brush and ink to capture mountains, rivers, and valleys in a way that was both simple and expressive. Garden designers applied the same concepts, using stones, moss, and shrubs to bring these painted worlds into physical space.

The Garden as a Living Artwork

In Japan, a garden is regarded as more than a designed space. It holds the same cultural weight as a painting or a sculpture. While each garden is unique, many share a common language: stones arranged to suggest mountains, shrubs forming valleys, and carefully placed elements that mimic waterfalls or islands in the sea. Some gardens lean toward abstraction, evoking entire landscapes with only a few symbolic features.

Designers also use the technique of shakkei, or borrowed scenery, to expand the visual field. This allows the natural backdrop (such as hills, forests, or distant mountains) to become part of the composition, making the garden feel larger and more connected to the surrounding environment.

Famous Examples of Japanese Dry Gardens

Kyoto is home to some of the most iconic Zen gardens in Japan. Among the best known are Daitokuji, Daisen-in, Jishoji, Jisso-in, Myoshinji, Rozan-ji, Ryoanji, and Tofukuji. Each of these temples preserves the tradition of karesansui design, with carefully arranged stones, raked gravel, and symbolic landscapes created for meditation and reflection.

Beyond Kyoto, significant examples can be found throughout Japan. These include An’yō-in in Kobe, Bingo-Ankokuji in Fukuyama, Harima Ankokuji in Kato, Jōmyō-ji in Kamakura, Kinbyōzan Zuisenji in Kamakura, Kōmyōzen-ji in Fukuoka, and Shitennoji in Osaka. One of the oldest is Saihō-ji, also known as the Moss Garden. Originally built in the mid-14th century, the moss that now blankets its grounds only appeared later, when the garden was left untended.

Unique Features of Iconic Gardens

Several gardens are especially famous for their distinctive elements. At Ginkaku-ji in Kyoto, the design features a striking gravel replica of Mount Fuji rising from a sea of raked sand. This concept influenced the creation of miniature mountain forms in Japanese gardens for centuries.

The garden at Ryoan-ji, created in the late 15th century, is considered the most abstract of all Zen gardens. Its arrangement of stones, including a classic triad formation, has been studied and debated for generations. Visitors are drawn to the way its simplicity invites endless interpretation.

Daisen-ji is known for its symbolic “white gravel ocean,” where a flowing gravel river empties into a broad open expanse, evoking the vastness of water through texture and form. At Zuiho-in, a sub-temple of Daitoku-ji, the Garden of the Blissful Mountain carries both Zen and Christian symbolism. Some of the stones are arranged in the shape of a cross, reflecting the faith of its patron, the daimyō Ōtomo Sōrin, who converted to Christianity.