Whisking tea – my meeting with the ancient art

Can a cup of tea become a work of art? When I first encountered the tradition of “whisking tea” in China, I understood that the answer is ‘yes.’ The method, known as dian cha, emerged during the Song Dynasty and was something more than a method of brewing: it was a ritual of beauty, harmony and mindfulness.

I had the great honour to learn about this ceremony under the auspices of tea masters. This experience made a huge impression on me and I happily go back to it now, also in photographs and a short video made at that time.

Tea in the Song Dynasty

During the Song Dynasty tea became a symbol of a certain lifestyle. It was not just a beverage: it was art, equal to painting, calligraphy and flower arrangement. Its greatest admirer was Emperor Huizong who is believed to be one of the most sophisticated rulers of the epoch. He not only drank tea, but also wrote treaties about it. In his work: Da Guan Cha Lun, he detailed the method of Qi Tang Dian Cha Fa, that is “seven additions of water.” It was due to this method that a perfect snow-white froth appears on the surface of the beverage that may be compared to a blooming flower.

This ceremony was based on the so-called tuan cha, small “tea cakes,” made of leaves pressed into the appropriate shapes. They were crushed, ground into powder and sifted before use so that the powder would have a light homogeneous texture. Only then was it placed in a heated bowl. Then, with the use of a bamboo whisk (cha xian), the powder was mixed with hot water, and further additions and rhythmic wrist movements created a thick velvety froth on the surface, known as “snow cream” (xue mo ru hua).

The delicate white cloud floating over the bowl was soft and velvety, achieved by only a hand movement and a bamboo whisk. The froth was the measure of the host’s craft and a cause for pride at that time.

My first attempt

During classes with the Chinese masters, I had the opportunity to test this ancient technique in practice. I remember my first movements: clumsy, too fast, as if the hand could not find the right rhythm. The harmony came with time: the movements became smooth, the whisk started to float evenly on the surface, and a delicate frothy foam appeared on the infusion.

It was like a mystery in an ordinary bowl. At some point everything surrounding you disappears and all that remains is the tea and calm breathing. I would compare this feeling to meditation where only here and now matters.

From antiquity to the present

Although the dian cha tradition disappeared in China, we can find its echo in the Japanese matcha ceremony. Old customs may also inspire us today, particularly in a world where everything happens too fast. Whisking tea helps you to slow down, take a deep breath and focus on simple gestures.

A moment for oneself

Today, when I make tea, even the regular one, I often think about my experience in China. It is enough to stop for a moment, take in the aroma, look at the colour of the infusion and allow oneself a moment of peace. Suddenly an ordinary cup becomes a small ceremony, and a simple gesture turns into a moment of mindfulness. Tea has taught me that true beauty may hide in the simplest of things and tiny moments that can be easily missed on a daily basis.