Ikebana artisan Nguyen Thanh stands beside one of her works at an exhibition in Hanoi

A Vietnamese American Ikebana artist hopes the flower art can find a new home in Vietnam.

It originated as a floral tribute ceremony paid in homage to the Buddha in the 6^th century. But it has grown to become a thriving independent art, rich in philosophical meanings since at least the 15^th century.

The art celebrates the structure of flower arrangements rather than just the sheer beauty of colorful blossoms. In fact, the actual flowers often play a subordinate role to the leaves and stems of the plant

After centuries of changes in Japan, Ikebana artists must follow a rather rigid set of rules in crafting their work.

American Vietnamese Ikebana artist Nguyen Thanh is comfortable bending those rules, just a little bit, in hopes of adding a Vietnamese flavor to the genre.

Tradition and individual talent

According to Thanh, all materials used for Ikebana must be 100 percent natural as the art form is meant to symbolize nature.

For example, daisies should be used in autumn and winter, when they are naturally in bloom, she says.

Cherry blossoms in spring signify rebirth while dried stems symbolize the barrenness of winter.

A rough and twisted stem could symbolize an old, weather-beaten tree that has survived the test of time.

“Stems and leaves are more important than flowers in Ikebana,” Thanh says.

Stems are often the tallest and strongest part of an Ikebana and are usually used to symbolize heaven, she says, adding that this is considered the main part of the traditionally three-part work. The other parts of the work, usually leaves and flowers standing shorter than the stem, symbolize humans and the earth, says Thanh.

“The choice of flowers depends on the stems.

“Many stunningly beautiful works use only stems or leaves but still achieve striking color effects,” she says.

At times, strong leaves replace the stems as the main part symbolizing heaven.

These perimeters and conventions may help clarify things, but they can also be constraining to an artist.

Thanh says it’s difficult for an Ikebana artist to develop his or her own distinctive style as “stringent rules prevent artists from making innovations.”

But Thanh wants her work to be slightly less classical.

“I try different ways of arranging my materials until I’m completely satisfied. Sometimes the actual work is totally different from my original idea.”

For an exhibition she held in Hanoi over the Tet holidays, Thanh infused her work with Vietnamese characteristics.

“I want Ikebana to add to Vietnamese culture and traditions here,” Thanh says

In a break from traditional norms, Thanh used mai (apricot blossoms), lan (orchids), cuc (daisies) and truc (bamboo), which are often used to signify Tet (Lunar New Year), in the exhibition.

“Many years under my teacher’s rigorous training gave me a solid foundation. But now I want my later creations to experiment with new styles and materials.”

The show

Thanh’s Tet Hanoi exhibition last December was a spur of the moment decision.

After seeing a show of paintings by her brother, Vietnamese French artist Nguyen Cam, she said she was inspired to display her own work here.

She decided to have a joint show with her brother at the Maison des Arts gallery, calling the collaborative effort Doi thoai phu du giua Hoa va Hoa (An Ephemeral Dialogue Between Flowers and Paintings).

Whereas preparations for exhibitions usually take months, with a team of artists helping to create even just one small Ikebana, Thanh set up her Hanoi show in just a few days.

It was not easy for her to find materials in such a short time.

After scouring Hanoi’s Au Co flower market and coming back empty handed, Thanh says she was lucky to find some stems and leaves in the northern port city of Hai Phong, her hometown.

Nguyen Nga, Thanh and Cam’s younger sister who helped launch the exhibition, collected 15 of Cam’s paintings and arranged them to create a “dialogue” with Thanh’s 15 Ikebana.

For her part, Thanh enriched the dialogue with a blend of the past (indicated by dried stems, sapodillas), present (blooming flowers and fresh leaves) and future (buds).

In one of her critically acclaimed arrangements called Hua hen (Promising), Thanh skillfully arranged bamboo roots, which stand for stability and longevity, alongside a cluster of yellow flowers and green leaves that signify birth and burgeoning vitality.

Thanh says she was very pleased with the way “the blend of Ikebana works and paintings changed the meaning of both the flowers and the paintings.

“They complimented each other very well,” she says.

Then and now

Thanh had fallen in love with Ikebana after she happened to read about it in a book when she was in Vietnam. But no school here offered training in the art then.

After she settled in the US in 1975, Thanh had to work her way through college and shelved her dream of learning the art, at least for a little while.

Graduating and getting a stable job, she began formally studying the art and has been doing so for more than 20 years.

She has studied Ikebana primarily under instructor Fusako Hoyrup, who teaches at the Waku Ikebana School in San Francisco.

She retired eight years ago to devote all her time to mastering and teaching the art.

She now teaches Ikebana in Palo Alto and Menlo Park in northern California and has exhibited in California and other countries.

Reported by Thuy Trinh