Camellia, or tsubaki in Japanese, has always been integral to this country's culture. Mentioned in ancient chronicles and legends, it is also used as a design motif for noh costumes, is highly regarded in ikebana arrangements and was prized by Tokugawa shoguns. Without the flamboyance of sakura, tsubaki is admired for the quiet, yet distinct beauty of its flowers and leaves.
The camellia indigenous to Japan is a ruby-red, five-petaled single yabutsubaki (Camellia japonica), which thrives in coastal forests along the Pacific. Regions on the snowy Sea of Japan side support another variety, known as yukitsubaki (snow camellia; C. japonica var. decumbens). Meanwhile, similar-looking sazanka (C. sasanqua) is originally from much warmer Kyushu, and is distinguished from tsubaki by the way its flowers fall. While tsubaki drops its blossoms whole with the stamens on, sazanka sheds its petals one by one.
Early Japanese seem to have admired the camellia more for its hard wood and shiny leaves than for its flowers. "Nihon Shoki," the chronicle of Japan compiled in the early 8th century, mentions mallets made of camellia wood, which the legendary Emperor Keiko used to kill his enemies without once missing a blow. An archaeological excavation in 1961 in Fukui Prefecture unearthed ax handles and a comb made of tsubaki wood at a Jomon dwelling site dating back 5,000 years.
The ability of camellia to reflect light on its leathery leaves seems to have lent a mystical image to the evergreen tree. Given the ancient worship of the bronze mirror as a sacred object, the shiny, reflective leaves might well have struck the viewer with both admiration and awe. The plant's Japanese name is thought to have evolved from tsuyabaki, meaning "glossy-leaf tree," or from atsubaki, meaning "thick-leaf tree."
Camellia japonica was taken to Europe in the 18th century. Thereafter, a multitude of glamorous varieties were spawned from the rather simple original, enthralling gardeners worldwide. About 5,000 varieties are known today, including those which have been hybridized on sazanka and totsubaki (Chinese camellia; C. reticulata). While aficionados overseas praise the gorgeous full bloom of multilayered petals, the Japanese, under the influence of the tea ceremony which emphasizes restrained beauty, generally prefer simple small flowers, especially when only half open in a tubular form.
Camellia captured the heart of an ikebana artist in war-devastated Tokyo in the 1950s. Choka Adachi (1880-1969) came across a pair of 17th-century scrolls depicting amazing variations in the flower's decorative use. Obsessed with the flower's classical beauty, he traveled all over the country, hunting rare varieties to fill up his garden. After his death, the Shiseido cosmetics company, which uses a camellia logo, acquired the entire collection and donated it to Kodomo-no Kuni to create a camellia garden as part of the company's centennial celebration in 1972.
Kodomo-no Kuni, literally, "Children's Land," is a park for children's outdoor activities created in 1965 to commemorate the marriage of Emperor Akihito, then crown prince, and Empress Michiko. The camellia garden is in its quiet northern corner, where the natural topography of the locality -- the western suburb of Tokyo -- has been well preserved. Some 7,000 mature trees in 600 varieties are planted on an undulating hillside, along with 100 sazanka and 50 Chinese camellias.
To get there, take the Den'en Toshi Line to Nagatsuda, 27 minutes by express train from Shibuya, and transfer to the Kodomo-no Kuni Line for a short ride to its terminus. The park entrance is straight ahead beyond the pedestrian bridge. The camellia garden is located at the far end, directly opposite the front gate as shown in the free English map that is available at the entrance. (Open 9 a.m.-4:30 p.m.; closed Monday, Dec. 31 and Jan. 1.)
After arriving there, just wandering about in the dense camellia forest is a sheer delight, with many unusual species waiting for you to discover them. Roughly speaking, the area to the right as you face the small white-framed greenhouse is planted with trees from the original Adachi collection.
Additional planting in other sections includes an especially large white camellia tree with grayish bark, a gift from the emperor, which can be found off to the left of the greenhouse. Also note a species whose leaves divide into three to five lobes at their ends, resembling the tail of goldfish, thus giving it its name, kingyoba, meaning "goldfish leaf."
While there, also be sure to walk up to the paved road on the garden's northern border, and from there look back down on the camellia forest. If you are visiting in the afternoon, you will see a sea of leaves against the sun as white-eyes joyfully flit about from one flower to another. The view is quite moving, the sparkling leaves convincing you of the ancient Japanese naming, tsubaki.
The peak of flowering is in the middle of March, but many camellia continue to bloom well into April, their beauty competing with cherry, magnolia, forsythia and so on. On the weekend of April 6 and 7, a camellia festival is held on both days 11 a.m.-2 p.m. -- come rain or shine -- featuring a guided tour of the garden, free flower gifts, a workshop to make camellia corsages and a sale of seedlings.
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With this article, the Flower Walk column on the Nature page comes to an end. I would like to express my sincere appreciation for the readers' support and feedback during the past two years. I also owe my heartfelt gratitude to Mimi LeBourgeois for her horticultural knowledge, cooperation in field tests and assistance with my texts.
From next month, this column will begin strolling instead through time and space, exploring on the first Thursday of each month places of botanical and historical interest associated with the Edo of old.
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