My Introduction to Bonsai, Which Began with a Movie

I first began my journey into the art of bonsai at the age of 13 when I received my very first tree from my parents as a birthday gift. I’d actually seen the Karate Kid movies at the age of 12, and became hooked on the bonsai that appeared throughout the films. I asked my folks for a bonsai for my 13th birthday and they obliged. Unfortunately, the tree died shortly thereafter as I kept it on my nightstand, but throughout my high school years, it remained an unforgettable presence to me.

A few years later, at the age of 16, I was chosen by Panasonic for a two-week cultural exchange program to Japan, and it was during that program that my host family took me to a couple of local bonsai nurseries in Osaka, one of which was Fujikawa Kouka-en Nursery. Fujikawa-san took quite a bit of interest in me as a young foreigner so interested in bonsai, and by the end of my visit, he made a joke that if I ever wanted to come back to be an apprentice, he would be willing to take me on. I took it to heart and kept his business card in my wallet for many years. During my last year of university, I wrote Fujikawa-san a letter asking if he would allow me to take him up on that offer, and he said, "Okay I'll let you come for three months as a trial period".

Days of Training and a Major Failure

In May of 2008, I started that three-month trial period in Osaka. Those three months ended up turning into a full five-year apprenticeship; I ended up staying basically six years as an apprentice, followed by an additional three years working at Fujikawa Kouka-en. One of the most important things that I learned was not so much about how to create bonsai, but much more focused on the sort of "human skills" needed to become successful in life.

During the trial period, I had a few mishaps due to misunderstandings and the language barrier. I didn't speak Japanese very well at the time, which resulted in less than positive outcomes. One example involves a Shinpaku juniper, a collected tree from the mountains likely around 150 to 200 years old. Fujikawa-san’s goal was to eventually display it in the Kokufu-ten. He wanted to compact the tree, so he asked me to push the structure together while he pulled a guy wire. Unfortunately, when I pushed the sections together, one section completely snapped—a piece of deadwood that was the most important feature of the tree.

I turned to look at Fujikawa-san, and he said absolutely nothing. After taking a few deep breaths, he very calmly told me to go home for the day. When I came to the garden the next day, he acted as if nothing had happened, but the tree I had damaged was set up in the most prominent part of the nursery, where it remained for the next year. It served as a reminder to me to always be aware, always be on my game, and always be paying attention—something I have taken to heart throughout my career. As an apprentice in Japan, you are meant to observe and repeat what your master is doing, mimicking the highly stylistic and refined design approach of your oyakata.

Taking on the Challenge of Bonsai in the U.S.

After moving back to the United States and starting my garden Eisei-en in Nashville in 2017, I began to slightly shift away from the design process I learned in Japan. Working with native U.S. material collected from the mountains, I found the foliage characteristics and the need for detail wiring were different, and the general outcome of those trees changed as well. This shift was also due to finally being independent and able to put my own style and ideas into the trees. By establishing my own nursery, I wanted to prove to myself and the community that I could build bonsai from raw material. Those skills learned in Japan were very handy for taking raw material and turning it into bonsai. I was able to build out dozens of top quality yamadori bonsai, some of which ended up winning the U.S. National Show in Rochester, New York.

In 2021, my daughter was born, and I started to think about her future. Considering where and in what cultural context we wanted to raise her, we decided to move back to Japan. In 2024, we shut down the nursery in the U.S. and relocated to Kyoto to establish Eisei-en Kyoto Bonsai Garden.

The Science and Art of Bonsai

To me, the appeal of bonsai is two-fold. Initially, it was the design process—taking plant material and shaping it to the image in my mind. But as I have progressed, I find the science side—the mechanics and horticulture—to be even more fascinating than the art side. I would say bonsai is about 70 to 80 percent science and about 20 to 30 percent art. If we identify our aesthetic goals, we can then identify the horticultural techniques needed to achieve them.

For example, with a trident maple (kaede), one goal is to develop fine branching. This is done via "partial outer canopy defoliation" in May, which can double the amount of branch ramification in a single season. Repeating this results in a well-ramified tree. By applying these basic horticultural techniques, we can get 80 percent of the way to the aesthetic goal. The remaining 20 to 30 percent of the art comes from understanding how to prune during the winter and remove unnecessary branches. For me, this combination of art and science makes bonsai one of the most fascinating arts in the world.

A Japanese Art Form We Want to Share with the World

One of my long-term goals is to build bonsai here in Japan from scratch and enter them in the Sakufu-ten (Creators Exhibition) in Tokyo. To me, this is a level of quality one step above the Kokufu-ten and is a very prestigious show for a professional. Additionally, I would like to continue promoting bonsai internationally through our online platform Bonsai-U and our international students. We post weekly videos and host live Q&As, as well as in-person classes at the garden for students from nearly every continent.

One benefit of learning in Japan is seeing the most famous, well-built trees in person, which changes one's perspective on what it means to build quality bonsai. My goal is to acquire well-known trees that have been in the Kokufu-ten, Sakufu-ten, or Taikan-ten so that students can get hands-on experience adding to the stories of those trees. Allowing international students to add to the stories of these trees is a beneficial experience, and it is something I am excited to continue into the future.