The Art is in the Detail: Secrets behind the Chinese Painting

I recently came across an art review article in the New York Times by Holland Cotter. It talks about Chinese art; its beauty, stories, and amazing examples in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I have had the chance to be exposed to Chinese art (painting, chop, calligraphy, etc.) at a young age, so I know some things on the subject matter as well.

Cotter begins with a graphic explanation on the 13th century Qian Xuan’s painting, “Wang Xizhi Watching Geese.” Wang Xizhi is a famous 4th century Chinese scholar, and the father of classical calligraphy. He is also a model of living as a recluse. Cotter describes that Westerner love Asian art due to its serenity, simplicity, and grace. In fact, he explains that the serene subjects reflect the Chinese artist’s ideal for the perfect lifestyle. As a 15th century Chinese writer puts it, “A nice cottage. A clean table. A clear sky with a beautiful moon. A vase of flowers. No cares of the world.”

Qian Xuan's "Wang Xizhi Watching Geese"

Detailed View

However, I would like to point out that Cotter’s depiction of the “ideal life” for Chinese artists of the past is not absolutely universal. Many artists, poets, writers, and scholars have given their lives to their nation, their government, and the well-being of their people. In the Confucian model, people with extensive knowledge and skills should serve their nation. Wang Xizhi was a recluse because of the time-period he had lived in. During times of warfare, many scholars could not simply serve their nation. Instead, many literati chose to follow the Daoist model of an educated man, which was to live in a recluse and self-improve.

This topic reminds me of the choices modern designers have to face. There are designs made to show self-expression, and there are also designs made to alert the masses of a specific problem. One cannot define which is right or wrong, just like one cannot define the rights and wrongs in Daoist ideals and Confucian values.

Du Fu, Tang dynasty poet. During his time, China suffered from years of chaos and rebellion. Forced to move around the country due to warfare, he had a miserable and depressing life. He was wise and skilled, and wished to serve the government his whole life, but never had a chance to accomplish his ambition. He died in agony.

Li Bai, Tang dynasty poet. He lived in the same era as Du Fu. Du admired Li greatly for his beautiful and free poetry. Li Bai was a small bureaucrat, but he did not care for the social world nor Confucianism. In many stories and myths, he appears to be a free-spirited immortal. He was famous for his Daoist imagery and love for liquor.

Cotter talks about many other important artists. One of the most famous ones among them is Yuan Dynasty’s Zhao Mengfu, which the class has had a chance to learn about. Cotter mentions that Zhao Mengfu’s paintings were different; his style moved away from the realism and romanticism of the past. His twists and turns in the strokes are “alive”, and many subject matters were “awkwardly” painted, so the artist must have something to say. Cotter makes an interesting comparison of Zhao’s art to the fairly modern conceptual art. Conceptual art is art which began as an idea in the artist’s head. The idea then creates the art piece.

Zhao Mengfu's "Twin Pines, Level Distance"

Zhao Mengfu was royalty of the Southern Song Dynasty, but when the Mongols conquered China and established the Yuan Dynasty, he was forced to work for the Mongols. Later critiques have blamed him for “betraying” his country. For this reason, his calligraphy and art were viewed as always “imperfect,” because there were “problems” with his personality and values. Modern scholars have tried to decipher Zhao’s hidden messages in his awkward paintings. A popular explanation is that Zhao felt immense shame for working for the Mongol dynasty, which all of China viewed as the enemy. The only way he could express his angers and sorrows was through awkward art. One of the most famous ones is his “Qiao and Hua Mountains.” They were painted on opposite sides of each other; the Hua is supposed to be in the West, but was depicted to be in the East. Also, the trees below the mountains were painted to be too large and proportionally unstable. Perhaps the weird details were his way of quiet opposition against the government. This certainly was and always will be one piece of unsolved visual communication.

Zhao Mengfu's "Autumn Colors on the Qiao and Hua Mountains"

Read more at Cotter's article in the New York Times:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/14/arts/design/14asia.html?_r=2&pagewanted=1&sq=wang%20xizhi&st=cse&scp=1