In modern times, many people tend to find greater value in living plants when it comes to bonsai and floral decorations, while regarding artificially made flowers as having lesser worth. But is it really true that flowers and trees crafted by human hands are inherently inferior in value? In this article, I would like to explore this question by looking back through history.

The Muromachi period (1336–1573) was a time when richly expressive religious culture flourished in Japan. One fascinating tradition from this era is the Zōka Jūnihei (Twelve Vessels of Artificial Flowers) practiced at Iwashimizu Hachimangū Shrine. This ritual decoration consists of twelve vases (kame or tsubo) each holding artificial flowers—crafted representations of blossoms and trees—offered to the gods. Used during the sacred Iwashimizu Festival, these arrangements were not merely ornamental but held profound religious significance, embodying spiritual beauty through their refined aesthetic.

Why, then, were artificial flowers used in such a sacred and solemn ceremony, instead of real plants? Of course, natural trees and flowers are beautiful, but they are also fleeting. When it comes to offerings placed before the gods, it was important that the flowers maintain their form and serve a symbolic role. Artificial flowers, unaffected by time or season, could represent an ideal and timeless state—tokoharu, or "eternal spring"—before the divine.

In Shinto, purity (seijō) is one of the most fundamental concepts. The wilting of real flowers could potentially be seen as kegare (impurity). Thus, artificial flowers that never wither became a means of preserving sacredness. Moreover, by repeating specific forms and colors, artificial flowers helped to solidify and transmit the structure and meaning of the ritual itself. Much like the garments or food offerings used in ceremonies, they were a vital part of conveying the formal beauty and rigor of Shinto rituals.

Additionally, during the Muromachi period, a refined form of silk artificial flowers called yūsoku zōka emerged, particularly around the Kyoto Imperial Palace. These flowers were originally presented as offerings to court nobles, and their legacy can still be seen today in the cherry blossoms and tachibana orange trees that adorn traditional hina dolls. The fact that the floral decorations displayed with these dolls are artificial is not a sign of inferiority, but rather a reflection of their value. This is something we should recognize anew.

A-BONSAI Mini is a palm-sized work of art, painstakingly handcrafted by a Tokyo artisan who also creates floral decorations for hina dolls. The Japanese have long found value in artificial flowers, and that cultural tradition lives on to this day. Perhaps it’s time we re-evaluate our understanding of artificial floral art through the lens of history and culture. I am increasingly convinced that A-BONSAI, as a piece of crafted bonsai art, should be cultivated as a creation with value equal to that of living bonsai.