Author: Patri

By Raymond Lam

For more than a millennium, since the glory days of Kyoto and Nara Buddhism, a unique spiritual calling has endured in Japan, although its popularity has waned. This is the discipline of the busshi, carvers of statues depicting buddhas and bodhisattvas. Through his soon-to-be released film Carving the Divine, Yujiro Seki, a Japanese-born filmmaker based in Los Angeles, provides a window into the lives of busshi in contemporary Japan, many of them young people who have committed themselves completely to the art. The documentary, perhaps the first to focus comprehensively on Japanese Buddhist sculptors, follows a small group of apprentices studying in the lineage of grandmaster Kourin Saito.

“It is my absolute honor to present this movie to the world, portraying one of the most important—or arguably the most important—spiritual arts of Japan and the artists who carve these divinities,” said Yujiro, who has a bachelor’s degree in filmmaking from UC Berkeley. “In fact, this project has also become ‘divine’ to me; it truly fills me with a great sense of purpose. I’ve poured my heart and soul into this project, but not for my personal glory. In the film I see something bigger than myself. My physical body will one day decay and disappear but as an artist I aspire to leave behind work that is not temporal but eternal. Carving the Divine has given me that opportunity.”

Woodcarving is not a trivial activity. The clients (who may be temple heads, Buddhist masters, directors of Buddhist charities, or lay donors) expect the highest quality of craftsmanship, and great shame befalls the busshi that produces an inferior product. For each client, each statue is not simply an aesthetic masterpiece, but a channel or repository of the bodhisattvas.

Apprentices work in an atmosphere akin to a military fraternity. “As a profession, being a busshi brings more pain than joy,” reflects one of the artists. There is little patience or compassion for apprentices who cannot handle how the busshi center is run: “We won’t calmly teach you,” he further cautions. “We’ll yell at you if you do something wrong.” And yelling there is. The teacher-student relationship is not and cannot be one of equals. Aside from sloppy work, minor infractions such as forgetting to bring a full tool kit, leaving a room untidy, or even not responding to instructions respectfully and immediately are met with an angry rebuke. The Japanese language might not have the same range of swear words as English, but to Japanese ears, the way errant students are scolded might as well be a stream of profanities. 

Yujiro agrees with the narrative that this work is to be taken seriously. “First and foremost, the life of an apprentice is tough. The teacher demands obedience and single-minded dedication. It is not a school with a curriculum. The apprentice must quickly and quietly ‘steal’ the techniques of the master and seniors by observation,” he says. “This is a life of never-ending, monotonous work. The apprentices wake up very early in the morning, prepare and eat breakfast, clean, work for the masters in the morning, prepare and eat lunch, and work for masters again in the afternoon. In the evening and into the night they continue working on their own projects. This daily schedule is repeated every day for many years.”

Hammering home the parallels between the busshi school and a Renaissance-era trade guild, Yujiro explains: “It’s a world of survival of the fittest. If you want to learn and do more important tasks then you must get ahead of your colleagues. The better you get, the more important jobs you will be assigned. If you don’t improve you will keep doing the same menial tasks, or even less important tasks, if your colleagues surpass you in skill. This is a tough world. Only those with dedication, commitment, and speed can get ahead.” Furthermore, there is nothing in the busshi “industry” to help students find employment or commissions. Traditionally, these techniques have only been passed down through the apprentice system. As far as Yujiro has seen, different lineages do not mingle much and do not openly share their knowledge and techniques with one another.

The most important relationship for a busshi to maintain, much like in martial arts, is with their master. Yujiro notes that a master will often give a subset of his commissions to former apprentices, which can help a lot in the early years of independence. In reality, a 3–5 year apprenticeship is not enough for most apprentices to be truly independent: “I would say it takes at least 10 years to reach that level and build a solid foundation as a busshi. Support from their master and others within their lineage is critical.”

Making a documentary is always a challenge. For Yujiro, shooting and editing demanded effort, time, money, and luck: “Putting this together almost single-handedly was a great challenge, particularly shooting and organizing the incredibly vast and wide-ranging content. It was important for me not to misrepresent or overgeneralize the depth and subtleties of the busshi community. Many documentaries out there oversimplify complicated subject matters. I did not want to do that.”        

Another challenge for Yujiro was finding a story to share based on the fairly mundane busshi lifestyle. Despite its high stakes, the act of carving is actually tedious, repetitive work: “I didn’t want the movie to turn into a ‘how to sculpt’ tutorial. Telling a multi-dimensional story of Japanese Buddhist sculptures was very difficult, but after about a year of intense editing our post-production team felt really good about what we were able to achieve in that respect.”

Yujiro notes that feedback on the film—officially yet to be released—has been positive. “A painter told me that he personally identified with the apprentices and remembered learning his craft in art school. A monk agreed with a message in the film: that greater international recognition of Japanese Buddhism would lead to renewed recognition at home. A father praised the carvers’ discipline and work ethic, and hoped that his children could exhibit the same qualities. One retired businessman and amateur stone sculptor told me that he was mesmerized by the process of the art and actually dreamed about carving that night. As a filmmaker, I am truly moved to hear distinctive opinions.”

Much of Yujiro’s time is now spent riding the beast of social media, which he has never done so diligently until the completion of Carving the Divine. He also faces the unenviable situation of promoting the film to the public while at the same time submitting it to film festivals, which require entries to be previously undistributed. Much like the busshi’s devotion to their art, this film is now Yujiro’s singular focus: “I am truly living in the moment and cannot think about other projects right now. It took a long time for me to find a sense of purpose in my life. I was lost, confused and hopeless. Now, I am filled with a vision, not only to promote Carving the Divine but the entire culture of busshi and butsuzo.

“I will die one day. That’s inevitable. But when that happens my greatest joy will be the knowledge that my work survives me, to be appreciated by people who come thereafter. This is what I’m currently striving toward. If I die now, my art will die too. I cannot let that happen. I think only of Carving the Divine, nothing else.”

This article was originally published on Buddhistdoor Global (August 14, 2019).

See more

Carving the Divine 
Carving the Divine trailer (YouTube)
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Carving the Divine TV (YouTube)

Butsuzotion

KATHERINE V. MASÍS-IVERSON

Read de part one here

My Reincarnation (2011)

Filmmaker and director Jennifer Fox based this documentary on materials filmed from 1989 to 2010, and tells the story of another tulku born in the West who in turn is the son of a tulku born in Tibet. Yeshi Silvano Namkhai is the son of Chögyal Namkhai Norbu (1938-2018) who died seven years after filming. Namkhai Norbu was a professor of Tibetan culture at the Oriental University of Naples (Università degli Studi di Napoli–L’Orientale) and, later, a Dzogchen teacher. Exiled from Tibet and resident in Italy since 1960, he met his wife Rosa with whom he formed a family with his son Yeshi (born in 1970) and his daughter Yuchen (born in 1971).

Namkhai Norbu explains that when his son Yeshi was in his mother’s womb, he had dreams of his uncle Khyentse Rinpoche, who had been one of his teachers in Tibet. In a dream, he went to visit Khyentse along with Rosa and a red light emerged and dissolved into her. After having this dream, he received a letter from a Lama based in India in which he said that Yeshi was the reincarnation of Khyentse.

The documentary begins with underwater scenes; We can hear Yeshi’s voice, who narrates that he had had dreams and visions about Tibet in his childhood. He acknowledges that these dreams and visions made him afraid and that he did not want to go to Tibet. He remembers that when he asked his father about these images, he “just listened” and did not respond. Later in the film, in a very casual manner, Yeshi claims to have “evidence”, for example, having identified specific places in Tibet through photographs.

At different points in the documentary, Namkhai Norbu states that didn’t want his son to suffer the situations that Khyentse suffered in his previous life and that he has tried not to interfere in Yeshi’s decisions regarding his path in life. his life. Perhaps this explains why, according to Yeshi, he does not answer his questions about his dreams, visions and fears.

However, at nineteen years old, Yeshi reports that his father has always told him that “he is an important person” and that “they are waiting for him in Tibet.” He comments that his father travels the world teaching Dzogchen most of the year and that they don’t have a close bond. He also perceives that his father’s followers idealize him: “Many people look for myths, legends, and saints.” He rejects what he considers to be his father’s expectations of him and the possibility of “being in the shadow of something or someone.”

Thirteen years later, in 2002, the documentary shows Yeshi as a computer professional. He has got married, started a family, and lives “in a very ordinary and very Italian way.” Time and time again, he resists what he perceives to be the expectations of others should he agree to be a teacher. At Dzogchen practice centres, he observes his father officiating at ceremonies, facilitating practices and answering questions from students who wait in long lines to be received, some of them seeking advice about difficult personal situations. Yeshi notices the way people “think the solution to their problems is my father” and that they “forget that my father is human.”

Later, Yeshi relates that during the long car trips that were part of his work, he began to listen to and follow Dzogchen chants, which became a form of spiritual practice for him. Yeshi leaves his job and, little by little, in order to help his father, he accepts administrative management tasks in different Dzogchen centres around the world. Not only do his childhood visions return, he also has new ones in which he begins to remember painful events about his death in his previous life in Tibet. Finally, he decides to fulfil his father’s wish: to travel to Tibet “to finish what was yet to be done.” On the trip to Khyentse Rinpoche’s village, he expresses his concern about the expectations the villagers might have regarding his visit. The interpreter responds that “the only thing they want is a teacher.” Yeshi wears ceremonial robes, performs rituals, and listens to touching testimonial accounts from those who knew Khyentse Rinpoche, his previous reincarnation.

A year later (2010), Yeshi gives talks to Dzogchen students, not wearing robes, but ordinary Western clothes. A later scene shows Yeshi sitting on the beach with his father, enjoying the waves. There are final signs indicating that Yeshi has assumed the role of teacher as the tulku that he is.

LACK OF SOCIAL SUPPORT, OR PERSONAL UNCERTAINTIES?

In Memoiries d’ un autre vie / Memories of a Previous Life, Tenzin Sherab (Elijah Ary) shows no signs of having strong internal conflicts regarding where his life should take place. After a decade of monastic training in India, he is determined on his purpose of returning to the West.

In Tulku, Dylan Henderson, Ashoka Mukpo and Ruben Derksen seem certain of the decisions they have made about their lives. On the other hand, Gesar Mukpo, the filmmaker, like Wyatt Arnold, express strong uncertainties about how to deal with the fact of having been identified as tulkus in their childhood.

In My Reincarnation, Yeshi Silvano Namkhai, after years of resisting assuming the role of his father’s successor in teaching Dzogchen, clearly seems to accept it at the end of the film.

In all three documentaries, the only two tulkus who express concern about the presence or absence of social and cultural support for their roles as tulkus in the West are Gesar Mukpo and Wyatt Arnold. This is possibly a reflection of their personal uncertainties, since, had they assumed the functions of tulku, they would have undoubtedly received abundant support, both in their own families and in their respective Buddhist communities in the West.

WHERE ARE THEY NOWADAYS?

It has been several years since these documentaries were filmed. What are these tulkus doing today?

Tenzin Sherab (Elijah Ary) lives in France and works as a Gestalt psychotherapist and meditation instructor for lay people. He is a family man and has written an autobiography in which he narrates his experiences in the Western and Eastern worlds.

Today Wyatt Arnold is an engineer and family man. He claims to feel closely connected to Buddhist teachings, even though he works in the secular world.

Ruben Derksen lives and works in the travel industry in Bangkok, Thailand, judging by his personal Facebook page.

There are not many allusions to Yeshi Silvano Namkhi on the Dzogchen Community websites in the last five years. However, there is news about a teaching transmission event offered by Yeshi to be taught in April 2020, which was later suspended until further notice, due to the coronavirus pandemic.

There are no recent news about the other tulkus appearing in the documentaries, at least as of today.

FINAL THOUGHTS

None of the tulkus featured in the three documentaries needed to be searched by a disciple. They were already located and only tests were conducted to confirm their identities. From a Tibetan Buddhist perspective, there is no definite explanation why these tulkus chose to reincarnate in the West. Probably, not even they themselves could give a compelling reason for it. Perhaps they wanted to reveal that being a tulku is not so relevant today, at least for Buddhism in the Wes, or it could be that the purpose of being born again in other times and in other spaces simply comes to show that there are many ways and many contexts from which to practice and teach the Dharma, in addition to the traditional ones.

REFERENCES

The Tulku Tradition

Khyentse, J. (2016).  Time for Radical Change in How We Raise Our Tulkus. Tricycle.https://tricycle.org/trikedaily/dzongsar-jamyang-khyentse-tulkus/

MacKenzie, V. (1998). Maestros de la reencarnación: Quiénes son, cómo fueron identificados, cómo transcurren sus vidas, cuál es su misión Trad. A. Pareja Rodríguez. Madrid: NeoPerson.

[English original: MacKenzie, V. (1996). Reborn in the West: The Reincarnation Masters. Marlowe & Co].

McLeod, K. (2016).  Reflections on Dzongsar Khyentse’s “How We Raise Tulkus”. Tricycle. https://tricycle.org/trikedaily/reflections-on-dzongsar-khyentses-how-we-raise-tulkus/

Thinley, K. (1980). The History of the Sixteen Karmapas of Tibet. Boulder, Colorado, EEUU: Prajna Press.

Three documentaries

Fox, J. (Director) (2011) My Reincarnation. USA: Long Shot Factory. 

https://archive.org/details/MyReincarnation2011

Mukpo, Gesar (Director) (2009). Tulku. Canada: National Film Board of Canada. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZV_8YvIbrvY

Poulin, M. & Grégoire, C. (Co-directors) (1994). Memoiries d’un autre vie / Memories of a Previous Life. Canada: Productions Thuk Kar. 

Documentary in French: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8bUq7k7CZM 

Documentary in English:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLWPUcGUQvE

Where are they nowadays?

Ary, E. (n.d.) Tenzin Tulku: Lama Tibétain réincarné en Occident.

https://www.tenzintulku.com/index.php/fr

Ary, E. (n.d.) Tenzin Tulku: Tibetan Lama Born in the West.

https://www.tenzintulku.com/index.php/en

Ary, E. (2019) Tulkou: Autobiographie d’un lama réincarné en Occident. Paris: Philippe Rey.

Derksen, R. (n.d.) Ruben Derksen. https://www.facebook.com/ruben.derksen/about

International Dzogchen Community Gakyil (2020). How can I get Transmission or Direct Introduction?

 http://dzogchencommunity.org/faqs/how-can-i-get-transmission-or-direct-introduction/

Miller, A. (2021).  Magical Emanations: The Unexpected Lives of Western Tulkus. Lion’s Roar. 

https://www.lionsroar.com/magical-emanations-the-unexpected-lives-of-western-tulkus

*This article was originally published in Buddhistdoor en Español. 

Katherine V. Masís-Iverson

The author is a retired professor from the University of Costa Rica in San José, Costa Rica, where for several years, she taught introductory philosophy courses at the School of General Studies, as well as courses on Ethics and Hindu and Buddhist thought at the School of Philosophy. Some of her work can be found at: 

https://ucr.academia.edu/KatherineMas%C3%ADsIverson

KATHERINE V. MASÍS-IVERSON

THE TULKU TRADITION

According to Tibetan Buddhism, tulkus are reincarnations of teachers, usually noted for their knowledge of Buddhist texts, their abilities in teaching the Dharma, and their skills in meditative practices. Leaving aside discussions regarding the concept of anatman or anatta (non-soul), Tibetan Buddhism establishes a distinction between the automatic rebirth of the citta santana, or mental flow from one life to another, and the deliberate reincarnation chosen by a master in a life prior to the current one. Reincarnation is voluntary and specific to the tulkus, while rebirth is involuntary and typical of all the other sentient beings. In both cases, of course, karma –or the complex web of causes and effects– comes into play.

The traditional process required to identify a tulku involves several steps. The most like-minded disciples follow clues and instructions left by their deceased master as to where he would reincarnate in his next life. They search for the reincarnated child in the area where he is most likely to have been born and, once located, he is subjected to some preliminary tests that basically consist of identifying objects related to his past reincarnation, when he was a teacher. Later, a council of monks may test the boy further to make sure he is a tulku.

Before he is found, it is not unusual that a reincarnated tulku has dreams, memories or visions associated with some past life, usually the immediately previous one. The purpose of a noted master reincarnating again is to fulfil his role as a bodhisattva, a being with capacity to reach the state of nirvana thanks to his refined spiritual evolution over many lifetimes. Nevertheless, he refrains from it because he feels compassion for the pain of all sentient beings and thus returns to help them.

Once a tulku is identified, there is an enthronement ceremony that formalizes his status as a reincarnated teacher, followed by an extended period of education that takes place in a Buddhist monastery. Once his training is completed, the tulku-bodhisattva formally teaches Buddhist texts and practices such as chanting, meditation, etc. and thus he accomplishes his purpose of helping others.

The tulku tradition has been defended as a system to guarantee the continuation of the line of well-qualified Tibetan Buddhist teachers, but, at the same time, it has been questioned due to the possibility of error when identifying them. The education system for the tulkus has also been put into question, since there is a risk that they may believe themselves special and deserving of privileges, rather than servants in the Dharma.

Since the first Karmapa had a vision of his upcoming reincarnation in the late 12th century, tulkus have generally been reincarnated in Tibet or surrounding regions. There are discussions regarding who was the first tulku identified as such in the West, but the general consensus is that before the 20th century none had been identified.

Memoiries d’un autre vie / Memories of a Previous Life (2011)

The first scenes take place in Canada and introduce the parents and two sisters of Elijah Ary, whose Buddhist name would be Tenzin Sherab. Carol, Elijah’s mother, shares some dreams and memories her son had as a child, which alluded to places that he would not have been able to visit at his young age. Carol and her husband, students of Tibetan Buddhism of the Gelugpa line, mentioned Elijah’s dreams to some teachers in Montreal, who began to suspect that he might be a tulku. Eventually, these same teachers began a process of finding out who Elijah was in his previous reincarnation.

At the age of seven, Elijah was officially identified as the reincarnation of Geshe Jatse who, according to Elijah -or Tenzin Sherab in the film, was not a renowned teacher, but a “simple monk.”

When Elijah turned twelve, Carol accompanied him to Sera Jhe Monastery in southern India to begin his monastic education, which would last approximately a decade.

Past the opening scenes, the documentary follows Tenzin Sherab as a young adult in the monastery. The camera shows him eating, preparing tea, spending quality time with other monks, meditating, participating in ceremonies, and debating Buddhist texts. The camera also follows him as he searches for a Phil Collins CD in the streets of Mysore, “two hours from the monastery” and while he has fun with his family visiting a nearby beach. It is Tenzin himself who narrates his thoughts and feelings in each scene, in both the French and English versions of the documentary.

In the last minutes of the film, Tenzin Sherab says that his future is in the West and he needs to return, since “the Dalai Lama once told me that I could be of great help in serving as a bridge between the ancient spiritual traditions of Tibet and modern world of the West.” This decision saddens him because it implies leaving behind the friendships built at the monastery, but Tenzin is sure of his path.

Tulku (2009)

Gesar Mukpo, director and filmmaker of the documentary Tulku, was identified as a reincarnation of a teacher as a child. Son of Chögyam Trungpa (1939-1987), who in turn was a tulku of the Kagyu line of Tibetan Buddhism, Gesar travels through the United States of America, India and Nepal, interviewing four more tulkus, all men born in North America and Europe during the 1970s and 1980s, and identified as such in their infancy.

Although Gesar was enthroned as a child, he did not receive prolonged formal monastic education. He was in a monastery in Nepal from the ages of fifteen to sixteen, and then he called his mother, British Diana Mukpo, to take him back home to the West. Although he says he “feels proud to be a tulku,” he also admits not knowing if interrupting his monastic training it was a good decision. In the last scenes of the film, we see him hug his little daughter upon returning home to Nova Scotia, Canada.

The first person Gesar interviews in the United States is Dylan Henderson, who had no monastic training. He narrates his story in a serene fashion and expresses no concern about what his role as a tulku should or could be. He leads a completely secular life as father of a family. He practices diving, which, for him, is a form of meditation.

The second interviewee, also in the United States, is Ashoka Mukpo, Gesar’s own brother. Ashoka doesn’t see himself as a teacher wearing “monk’s robes.” At the time of filming, he feels that his work in the secular world on behalf of human rights is a way of helping others and, as such, a way to practice Buddhism.

The third interviewee is Wyatt Arnold, an American who receives Tibetan monastic education in India. Wyatt claims to have had, as a child, memories of his previous reincarnation. He admits feeling confused about other people’s expectations regarding his role as tulku and about what he should do with his life in general.

Gesar travels to Nepal to interview the fourth and last tulku. The Dutchman Ruben Derksen who, like Wyatt, claims having had memories of his previous life when he was a child. Having lived in Nepal and Bhutan, Ruben describes behaviours that he calls “non-Buddhist” in some monasteries: jealousy, gossip, abuse and mistreatment of children. Every year he travels to Bhutan to officiate a ceremony for the sole reason that this makes the Bhutanese who attend it “incredibly happy.” When Gesar asks him if he is still a Buddhist, Ruben answers that he is not and admits not knowing what he believes in.

*This article was originally published in Buddhistdoor en Español. 

Read part II