The Journey of Matcha: From Tradition to Trend
The book “The Wind Through the Pines” by Malena Higashi offers a profound lesson in relearning to breathe. Through the metaphor of the tea ceremony, or chado, Higashi emphasizes essential values encapsulated in four Japanese words: wa (harmony), kei (respect), sei (purity), and jaku (tranquility). This ancestral stillness sharply contrasts with today’s fast-paced world.
The Global Matcha Phenomenon
In recent years, matcha, the finely ground green tea powder that has been cherished in Japan for centuries, has emerged as a global phenomenon. Just a decade ago, matcha was primarily reserved for traditional tea ceremonies held in quiet temples. Today, it finds itself in coffee shops across cosmopolitan cities like New York, Paris, and Madrid, often mixed with flavors like vanilla or banana. The once-serene ritual is now accompanied by a flurry of social media activity, with videos of matcha being consumed racking up hundreds of millions of views.
However, this vibrant green drink hides a troubling reality behind its foamy allure. As the market embraces matcha, it is cracking under pressure. The serene values that chado advocates have been overshadowed by discord, unscrupulousness, and fraud, as noted in a New York Times article.
A Battle Against Fakes
Renowned companies such as Marukyu Koyamaen, founded in 1704, are at the forefront of combating fraud in the matcha market. They face a troubling reality: cheap, yellowish powders masquerading as matcha on platforms like Amazon or Facebook Marketplace. Some vendors are even marketing products under non-existent classifications like “imperial grade” or “barista grade.” The overwhelming global demand has far surpassed what Japan can supply, leading to a “Wild West” scenario in the matcha domain, as described by merchant Sebastian Beckwith.
Numbers Tell the Story
Indeed, the statistics are sobering. In just one year, Japanese exports of green tea powder increased by 75%, reaching a staggering 27,000 million yen (approximately 165 million euros). Despite this newfound enthusiasm, prices have skyrocketed. A kilo of tencha leaves, the basis of matcha, now costs about 14,000 yen (around 85 euros), nearly triple its price just a year ago. Although Japan exports over half of its matcha production, the escalating prices have led shops in Uji—the birthplace of green tea—to limit sales and reject new orders.
Producers like Jiro Katahira echo the struggles of the industry, noting that they now receive requests from far-flung places, yet cannot meet the growing demand. “You can’t speed up a process that takes years,” he laments.
The Unsustainable Boom
Matcha farming is far more complex than simply growing crops like corn or coffee. The tencha leaves require weeks of shade before harvesting, processed meticulously through steaming and grinding. It takes five years from sowing to the first harvest, and many farmers are nearing retirement age, complicating the generational transition necessary for sustaining production.
While the Japanese government is attempting to modernize factories and introduce mechanization, experts warn that these changes could jeopardize the artisanal quality that makes Japanese matcha unique. Meanwhile, producers from China, Korea, and Australia are capitalizing on the current gap, with some introducing artificially dyed matcha to meet market demands.
Matcha: From Ceremony to Commodity
While chado is steeped in meaningful gestures, the modern matcha market feels defined by likes and trends. Zach Mangan, founder of Kettl, expressed concern about the degradation of matcha’s significance. “Using first-harvest matcha in a latte is like using Burgundy wine to make sangria,” he argued. As mainstream chains introduce matcha-flavored drinks, the essence of the tea is diluted into mere aesthetics.
However, there are optimists among the pessimists. Master Rie Takeda, founder of the Chazen tea room, maintains a hopeful perspective. She believes that the trend may reignite interest in the tea ceremony. Yet, others like Shihori Suzuki caution against conflating aesthetics with spirituality, asserting that if matcha becomes just another product, its intrinsic value risks being lost.
Cultural Identity at Risk
The matcha craze not only threatens the sustainability of its production but also jeopardizes a rich cultural identity that has been meticulously cultivated over centuries. Farmers, while grateful for the financial relief brought on by this boom, see it through mixed lenses. The rush to mass-produce has some prioritizing profit over tradition and quality.
In a slightly silver lining to this turmoil, a new type of consumer is emerging. After the pandemic, visitors no longer merely seek to taste matcha; they wish to understand its significance. As Atsuko Mori, founder of Camellia Tea Ceremony in Kyoto observes, they seek the calm that social media often lacks. Yet this newfound appreciation still wobbles on precarious grounds, with the very success that brings attention also threatening to compromise what makes matcha special.
Throughout history, the art of serving matcha was designed to bring stillness. Today, it exists within a frenzied cycle of production and consumption. Perhaps, as teacher Ann Abe wisely mused, what truly matters is not the green dust itself, but what unfolds when it is shared. In a world racing to commercialize matcha, the core essence of tea still holds profound lessons: it is not merely a product to yield, but an opportunity to gather and share oneself with others. The market may benefit from a pause to breathe, just as the tea ceremony intends.