Filmmaker Michael Wiese talks about his new Bali doc “Talking with Spirits,” screening at Asian Art Museum this Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Filmmaker Michael Wiese visited Bali in the 1970′s and was led to a remote village by a Balinese salesman. As he participated in elaborate ceremonies, he realized he did not really see the world as the Balinese saw it. Now, 40 years later and many visits between, his new documentary, Talking with Spirits, shows sequences that make us question everything we know about the nature of reality, consciousness, and the very sources of creativity and inspiration. Wiese’s film will be screening this Tuesday, at 2 p.m., at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco as part of their programming for Bali: Art, Ritual, Performance which runs through September 11, 2011. This weekend, I interviewed Michael Wiese who was at the Albuquerque Film Festival, where his film had its West Coast premiere.
Talking with Sprits is billed as a documentary, which is a fairly broad category these days. What is it exactly?
Michael Wiese: When I think of documentaries, I think most are intellectual ─ you know, a narrator talking over experiences ─ which this is not. This film guides you and lets you have your own experience. The unseen world by its very nature is very is hard to capture. I am making a film about things that cannot be filmed.
What is the emphasis of the film? From the trailer it appears to delve into trance and possession. Is this a story of communication between a medium and a single person or a community experience?
Michael Wiese: Trance can be very much a community experience. What impressed me when I was there in my 20s was the Balinese connection to the divine. Bali is a culture where people spend 50 percent of their time in temple ceremonies communicating with the gods. In the film, they are in direct communication with the gods. The film explores a man healing somebody as his hands are being guided by a god. Another man is a farmer and he channels Hanuman, one of the Hindu Gods. This is the way it is in Bali—trance is just a way to delve into other states of consciousness. It’s very hard to talk about this because it is so far out of our range of expression and that’s why, instead of writing a book, I made the film. I am capturing what’s happening on the outside, and had to use other techniques to give an impression of what’s going on internally.
It’s also a very personal journey as part of my quest for a cure for Parkinson’s, which I have, which has taken me into a lot of healing modalities, non-Western as well as Western, to find whatever works.
Filmmaker Michael Wiese is screening his new documentary “Talking with Spirits” about Balinese trance state and spirituality at the Asian Art Museum this Tuesday. His publishing company, MWP, founded in 1981, has become the leading independent publisher of books on screenwriting and filmmaking, with a current line of more than 130 titles. Photo: courtesy Divine Arts Media
Is this new footage then, or is there some footage from the 1970’s?
Michael Wiese: There’s an introductory clip in the beginning with some archival footage from that first encounter in 1970—maybe 8 min– to bring in the gravity of time, the set and setting, and show what Bali was like when I was a young man, in my early twenties. At that time, we just shot the surface. We did not know what was going on. Stuff was happening but we did not grasp the depth of it or the methods of entry into the unseen worlds. Had we even understood what we were seeing, I doubt that we would have gotten permission to film it. We simply weren’t mature enough or ready to see it.
Is the footage all from the same village?
Michael Wiese: No, we’ve been going back there for the past 40 years. The film was made in many villages in Bali and takes place across the whole island. We have a long-term relationship with a lot of people in Pengosaken village in particular though this village is not at all the focal point.
There have been so many films made on Bali that address trance state, so what’s the unique underlying message in yours?
Michael Wiese: I am not an anthropologist or an expert from a university but I am encouraging people to participate. As a filmmaker you shouldn’t stand back and point the camera in some direction and think that will bring deep understanding of what’s going on. I think one needs to be courageous and jump in the fray, especially when we don’t understand. If a filmmaker can do this and take the audience along then that’s great. If the audience wants to pursue it further in some remote place in Bali, or Tibet, then that’s fine. The wisdom cultures of the world are opening up to the West more and more because it’s vital that the Western world get in touch with the sacred side of things and restore and nurture our home planet. I think that ancient cultures realize this and are reaching outside; whereas, in the past, these teachings have been secret. They are stepping up the game and people will meet this seriously or superficially but, at last, it’s being addressed.
How do you feel about the issue of filmmakers who go to relatively untainted cultures and make films and popularize that area, put it on the map, and thereby accelerate the destruction of the cultures and traditions they are filming? Is there a balance you try to preserve in the face of the blatant spiritual tourism that results from films like “Eat, Pray, Love” (2010)?
Michael Wiese: That is a very real concern for me. I’ve certainly made films where that has come up. Dolphin Adventures (2009) is a film about communication with dolphins. After I made that, people discovered these dolphins and then figured out where they were and went and exploited those dolphins and so I am very sensitive to those issues. On the other hand, people are going to do what they are going to do. As a filmmaker, if you bring awareness that these sacred practices are a sensitive thing and can generate some reverance and respect so that people can approach this with a sense of reverence, this is good. The films I am making now are very niche-oriented and are probably for people already on spiritual quests. I am less concerned with what’s going to happen. The Balinese will open up, or not, depending on the situation and the Balinese understand how superficial a film like “Eat, Pray, Love” is. Ketut Liyer, the actual shaman, or balian, depicted in that film is a friend of mine. Today he does the same palm reading on every divorcee who shows up by the busload at his doorstep and he is laughing all the way to the bank. He’s not being treated seriously and is not treating them seriously. Actually, false shamans in Bali using his name have risen to pick up the business he cannot handle!
What’s the breakthrough moment mentioned in the trailer?
Michael Wiese: There were many. The whole film is a breakthrough. I needed to be in the film because if I am filming something like trance, I need to participate to integrate it within myself. When shamanic musician Alberto Roman and I were invited to enter the sacred space, we did. His trance was much more powerful than mine but I did have an experience of my consciousness being dramatically shifted. If you look at it from the outside, it looks like a bunch of people thrashing about─ and that doesn’t accurately convey the inner experience. The film, I hope, delivers an inner experience.
Bali just kept opening up like a lotus flower. I was very grateful when She (Bali) would offer more and more and this has only deepened over time. I felt that the Balinese had figured out what it means to be human as they know how to bring harmony into so many dimensions of their lives. We have a lot to learn from them.
Who’s in the film with you?
Michael Wiese: Larry Reed is not in the film but shared the experience of that first trip in 1970. He is one of the very few Americans to be trained in wayang kulit, Balinese shadow puppetry, and he performs all over world and has been doing this for years. He has been giving some shadow puppet performances at the Asian Art Museum during the Bali exhibition. (click here to read about shadow puppet events associated with the exhibition “Bali: Art, Ritual, Performance” at the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco, through September 11, 2011)
Michael Wiese's new documentary explores Balinese trance and spirituality.
What challenges did you face in making this film?
Michael Wiese: None.
No one has ever said that to me before.
Michael Wiese: When you are in the zone and you are aligned with a purpose and everybody participates in supporting that purpose it’s easy. The last three films I’ve made have been easy in that regard. They are only difficult when you are pushing an agenda. When you come with innocence and ask to be shown, you are not ‘making’ the film; you are part of its co-creation with others and other energies. It’s more the case that I happened to be witness to this and was given this material and the responsibility of shepherding it into the world.
How is this transforming you?
Michael Wiese: Taking the film out into the world is a chore but I have been transformed in considerable ways on a daily basis. Today, we got up at 4:40 a.m. and a Mexican curandera (traditional healer using a Mestizo or syncretic system of healing) came by and took us out into the desert to welcome the sun and held a traditional ceremony for us. That came about because I showed my film about shamanism, The Shaman and Ayahuasca, here in Albuquerque last year. That film was shot in the Amazon and Peru and delves into the healing and vision ceremonies (using ayahuasca, a psychoactive healing brew using vines and leaves) of Don José Campos and Pablo Amaringo, a painter and former shaman. I could give you several more examples of things, big and small, occurring over years. Spirituality has always been a part of my work too but I’ve taken a stronger stand in creating more work in that genre. I’ve dipped in and out of making consciousness films, human potential, and spiritual films my whole career. Divine Arts, our new company is about drawing a circle in the sand and saying let’s call it what it is and create spiritual films and books.
Tell me about your company DIVINE ARTS.
I have a company (Michael Wiese Productions (MWP.com), that publishes film books—how to write films, screenplays, all of that—and over the past thirty years, have become the leading publisher in that field of “how to.” Now, years later, we see a real need for “why to” books, about what filmmakers can do with these tools in the field of conscious media. About a year and half ago, my wife and I decided to start DIVINE ARTS, a spiritual book line—arts, culture, spirit. We’ve published about 5 or 6 books in our first year.
Having explored Balinese and South American spiritual practices, is there another region that holds a particular interest for you?
Tibet and Buddhism have always interested me. A few years ago I made the film The Sacred Sites of the Dali Lamas (2007) and, this October, a companion book will come out from DIVINE ARTS. I am interested in all spiritual practices which move the practitioner to the same cosmic awareness, recognizing that these practices they may be expressed differently in different cultures. I draw inspiration through my experiences and relationships with people in these different spiritual cultures. It is a very rich, magnificent and abundant world we live in.
Talking with Spirits, directed and produced by Michael Wiese (90 min, 2011) screens at the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco, on Tuesday, August 23, 2011 at 2 p.m. There will be a Q&A session with Michael Wiese after the screening.
Details: The Asian Art Museum is located 200 Larkin Street, at Civic Center in San Francisco. Hours: Tuesday- Wednesday and Friday-Sunday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Thursday 10 a.m. to 9 p.m., closed Mondays. http://www.asianart.org/ or (415) 581-3500. Tickets: $12.00 Adult General Admission. $5.00 surcharge for “Bali: Art, Ritual, Performance” which ends September 11, 2011. Parking: Civic Center Garage is just steps away from the museum entrance.
Final Days: “Beyond Golden Clouds: Five Centuries of Japanese Screens,” Asian Art Museum through Sunday, January 16, 2011
Flowering Cherry and Autumn Maples with Poem Slips, approx. 1654/81. By Tosa Mitsuoki (approx. 1617-1691). Pair of six-panel screens; ink, color, gold, and silver on silk. The Art Institute of Chicago, Kate S. Buckingham Endowment (1977.156-57)
Japanese folding screens have captured the imagination of the West since the 16th century when Europeans had their first glimpse of this expressive art form which combines functionality with painting, calligraphy, poetics and design. Artists have realized their most expansive visions by working across their large flat surfaces with rare mineral pigments and precious gold and silver. Beyond Golden Clouds: Five Centuries of Japanese Screens , at San Francisco’s Asian Art Museum presents forty-one rarely seen large scale Japanese screens dating from the 1500s through the present and closes this Sunday, January 16, 2011. The exhibition celebrates the evolution of the folding screen, or byōbu (“wind wall”), from pre-modern to contemporary times, highlighting its distinctive position in Japanese culture as both a functional and expressive art form. Initially created for the aristocracy and noble elite and later accessible to commoners, the art form has retained its special currency. The rare screens on display are considered the masterpieces of the esteemed collections of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Saint Louis Art Museum who each contributed roughly half of the screens on display. Unlike exhibitions of screens in the past, Beyond Golden Clouds includes a range of works from 16th century ink paintings to late 20th century installation works. The phrase “Beyond Golden Clouds” describes one of the most popular motifs in classical screens, while also expressing the departure from conventional compositions and techniques in the past century.
Details: The Asian Art Museum is located 200 Larkin Street, at Civic Center in San Francisco. January hours: Tuesday- Sunday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., closed Mondays. http://www.asianart.org/ or (415) 581-3500. Tickets: There is a $5.00 surcharge to the General Admission price to see “Beyond Golden Clouds.”
“Emerald Cities”at the Asian Art Museum– the dazzling Burmese and Siamese Treasures of Heiress and Philathropist Doris Duke find a new home
Mythical bird-man. Approx. 1775–1850. Central Thailand. Wood with remnants of lacquer, gilding, and mirrored-glass inlay. Gift from Doris Duke Charitable Foundation’s Southeast Asian Art Collection, 2006.27.24
The Asian Art Musuem’s marvelous show “Emerald Cities: Arts of Siam and Burma, 1775-1950,” is now in its final three weeks—it ends January 10, 2010– and if you haven’t seen it yet, it is well worth a special visit. The show includes a dazzling array of some 140 remarkable artworks—rare sculptures, illustrated manuscripts, ornately carved 19th century furniture, gilded offering vessels, silk costumes, shadow puppets, and the finest collection of 19th century Thai paintings outside of Asia—most of which were collected by the legendary heiress Doris Duke and acquired by the Asian Art Museum in 2002 in one lucky swoop. It has taken the museum five years and a whopping 6,000 hours in conservation and restoration efforts to ready these objects for display.
A billion dollar fortune built on tobacco and energy
The story behind the Doris Duke collection is as fascinating as the art itself and points to a bygone era— when outrageous industrial wealth enabled travel to exotic lands where artifacts could be had for a song. The story began in 1925, when 12 year old Doris Duke inherited an $80 million dollar estate (about $860 million in 2005 dollars) from her father James Buchanan Duke, the tobacco and hydropower magnate. Buchanan made the bulk of his great fortune by acquiring a license in 1885 to use the first automated cigarette making machine and by 1890, he supplied 40% of the American cigarette market (then known as pre-rolled tobacco). He consolidated control of his four major competitors under one corporate entity, the American Tobacco Company, and monopolized the American cigarette market. In the 1890′s, he made a separate fortune in hydropower by supplying electricity to more than 300 cotton mills and establishing a power grid to supply power to parts of North and South Carolina.
Doris Duke: the richest girl in the world
Upon his death in 1925, $40 million of his estate (over $430 million in 2005 dollars) went to The Duke Endowment, a permanent trust fund that endowed several universities including Trinity University (later renamed Duke University), and hospitals and churches in North Carolina. The remainder went to his only child, Doris, in the form of an immediate bequest of $80 million and lump sum payments totalling another $100 million dispersed on birthdays (over $1 billion in 2005 dollars). Doris literally became the richest girl in the world. She spent her early childhood at of Duke Farms , her father’s 2,700 estate in Hillsborough Township, New Jersey and her teen years in a Manhattan apartment. It wasn’t all a bed of roses, while she lacked for nothing in the material realm, her unparalleled wealth made her a constant target for self-serving individuals. At age 14, she took her mother, Nonoline Duke, to court and successfully blocked the sale of Duke Farms and became solely responsible for the stewardship of her vast fortune.
Doris Duke (Getty image)
A Passion for Southeast Asian Art Emerges
As Doris Duke came of age she, she used her great wealth to pursue a variety of interests including extensive world travel that profoundly impacted the philanthropic interests she would later pursue, one of which was art. She spoke nine languages, worked in a canteen for soldiers in Egypt during WWII, and even did a stint as a foreign correspondent. She married twice and it was on her first honeymoon in 1930 with the dashing James H.R. Cromwell, son of Palm Beach doyenne Eva Stotesbury, that she embarked on a trip to India, Thailand, Indonesia and other Asian locales and started to amass a sizeable collection of important Islamic and Southeast Asian art. She collected her artworks before the UNESCO convention, so there were basically no restrictions on purchases of sacred or rare objects. Duke’s passion for Southeast Asian art was not widely publicized and that is probably because she was collecting in areas where there was little knowledge. While back in the States, she continued collecting through an agent she employed in Bangkok. According to Asian Art Museum curator Forrest McGill, the juicy details of her purchases remain a mystery. She tended to buy several objects at a time and the sales receipts that have been saved do not give a breakdown of any prices paid for individual items.
Before being distributed, Doris Duke’s collection of Southeast Asian art included more than 400 museum-quality objects and 1,800 other items most of which had been in storage at Duke Farms. Her intention was to create a Southeast Asian cultural theme park in Honolulu. She even bought some very beautiful farm buildings in Southeast Asia, had them dismantled, and was going to send those to Honolulu, where they would be situated amongst gardens. She couldn’t find the land she wanted in Hawaii and so she sent everything to her New Jersey estate instead and planned to design a Southeast Asian museum and gardens there. All those buildings sat dismantled in the enormous indoor tennis court for years, awaiting plans that did not materialize. Some of the buildings and artifacts were given to a Tampa garden and were going to be erected there.
Doris Duke died in 1993, at 80, of a stroke. While living, she had proven to be a substanial and often progressive philanthropist, giving over $500 million to organizations supporting the arts, the environment, medical research, child abuse prevention and historic preservation. In her final will, Duke left virtually all of her fortune (estimated to be in the billions) to charitable foundations, including the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation which she endowed with financial assets totaling approximately $1.3 billion. She bequeathed her Irish-born butler Bernard Lafferty with $5 million and appointed him co-executor of her estate. A number of lawsuits were filed against the will. Her life was the focus of a 2007 HBO docu-drama “Bernard and Doris” starring Susan Sarandon as Duke and Raplh Fines as her butler Lafferty.
Aerial view of the main house on the Duke Estate in Hillsborough on 03/09/99. JOE EPSTEIN/THE STAR-LEDGER
The Asian Art Museum entered the scene about 1998, when its then board chairman Johnson S. “Jack” Bogart was working with the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation in New York to see if they would fund a portion of the museum’s re-do. ”Jack became aware that there was a collection that Doris Duke had put together and asked me about it,” said curator Forrest McGill, “In a classic bone-headed mistake I said ‘I never heard of it, so it must not be that important.’ Was I ever wrong. I will never make that mistake again.”
Coach Barn at Duke Farms 1900-1915
Bogart insisted that McGill have a look any way, so he visited Duke Farms, just outside of Princeton, New Jersey, and was astounded. “I walked into her coach barn, which was literally as big as a train station, and it was like going into an amazing vault of a museum with thousands of 18th and 19th century artworks–sculptures, furniture, paintings, vessels, manuscripts– and I just wasn’t prepared. She had some of the things more or less on display, but some of them were stored in an indoor tennis court and others were in a gigantic indoor shooting gallery inside her house. The Duke people were not aware of the rarity of this artwork. We started to make the case that the collection was much more important than they thought it was.”
A lucky coin toss
After years of negotiation, around 2002, the foundation decided to let The Asian Art Museum and the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore, which has a very important Asian art collection, have first choice of the objects. “We agreed to work out the division of the artworks ourselves and to gave the Duke Foundation a reconciled list,” explained McGill. “We had a coin toss and we won and got first pick and we went back and forth down the list in that way. We ended up with 167 objects and they got 150 objects and the leftovers were distributed to about 20 other museums in Great Britain and the US.” (Duke Foundation gift to the Walters Art Museum , Duke Foundation gift to the Asian Art Museum)
McGill estimates that roughly 75 percent of the objects have some kind religious orientation, either direct or indirect. They would have been commissioned by wealthy and aristocratic families for use in their homes or palaces or to donate to the monasteries.
The objects were then in storage for several decades in the 1940’s and 50’s and early 60’s. ”Everything was dirty and many pieces needed restoration,” said McGill. In several cases, materials that survived in the tropical climate Southeast Asia decayed in the new climate. “We spent the last five years and about 7,000 hours consolidating, stabilizing, preserving, and repairing the artworks,” said McGill. “Some of the fragile Thai paintings on fabric were beyond repair.”
The exhibition is divided geographically into three sections— Central Burma, followed by Eastern Burma and Northern Thailand which, despite different borders, have the Shan people in common and share many cultural similarities, and it ends with a large gallery devoted to Central Thailand. The exhibition title “Emerald Cities” does not refer to any actual emeralds on display but is meant to be poetic. The most important Buddha image in Bangkok is the Emerald Buddha and Bangkok’s formal name is “the City of the Emerald Buddha.” The three 19th century capitals of Burma, all have their formal names based on gems, though none are emerald.
Burma
The Burma segment opens with objects that had a religious use and continues with luxury goods. Several ornate offering vessels, offering containers and stands are on display. These were purchased by aristocratic families, often filled with food and given as donations to the temples at monasteries to make merit and maintain their high standing. These vessels are metal with ornate mirrored glass in-lay or glass reproductions of precious gems on the outside. They open in the middle and are lined with bamboo which is completely coated with lacquer. Not much is known about the glass on these objects or on any of the artworks in the collection, except that glass was highly desirable and was used even on royal objects, in lieu of real gems.
“You can imagine for a culture that did not have or know glass what a delight it must have been to see English chandeliers and other types of European luxury glassware,” explained McGill. “We don’t actually know where did the fragments they used came from. Some of it may have been European glass and some of it may have come from India. Eventually, because they liked glass so much and there was a heavy demand for it, the Burmese and the Thai brought in European advisors and set up glass manufacturing factories in Burma and Thailand.
The show presents many more questions. “We do not know the name of a single maker, a single workshop or artist, and not a single object has a date inscribed on it” explained McGill. Wall plaques are as descriptive as they can be but frequently give dates of creation ranging up to 125 years, not the level of precision most hope for. “Some of these objects were made the same way decade after decade after decade and it’s just impossible to date them more accurately,” said McGill.
Scenes from the Burmese version of the epic of Rama (detail). Approx. 1850-1900. Cotton, wool, silk, sequins. 1989.25.1
A highlight of the Burmese section is “Scenes from the Burmese version of the epic of Rama,” a rare, sequined, nearly six-meter-long textile hanging that portrays the scenes of the legend of Rama. Although it’s purpose is unknown, it is possible that this narrative textile may have been a backdrop for puppet performances. The royal costumes depicted in this artwork are echoed throughout the exhibition, through actual costumes and those that appear in artworks and on puppets.
Couch. Approx. 1850–1910. Burma. Lacquered and gilded wood with glass rods and mirrored glass. Gift from Doris Duke Charitable Foundation’s Southeast Asian Art Collection, 2006.27.51
Those with an interest in furniture will be enthralled with a stunning Burmese couch, or day-bed, with ball and claw legs, made of ornately lacquered and gilded wood that has been inlaid with glass rods and mirrored glass and it has an emerald green velvet cushion. In old photographs, Burmese and Shan aristocrats sit, Buddha images recline and deceased monks are laid out. The Asian’s couch was missing its original cushion, so a new emerald green velvet one was made in 2008 inspired by a similar couch in London’s Victoria and Albert Museum. This lovely couch did not come directly from Burma to Doris Duke. Instead, she bought it from an interior designer who already had it in New York. This was discovered by accident when one of the Asian’s conservators was looking at an interior design magazine and saw a photograph of this very couch in the living room of a designer’s posh 5th Avenue apt in the 1930’s. “When we saw photograph and started comparing all the nicks and so forth, we determined that this was the very couch that we had obtained from Doris Duke,” said McGill. “We have been trying to track down the exact connection yet between the decorator and Doris Duke but haven’t yet succeeded.”
Northern Thailand and Shan State, Burma
The second segment of show features the religious art and luxury goods Northern Thailand and the Shan state, Burma. A large black and red wooden chest, gilded with lacquer would have been used in the temple for storing monk’s robes and manuscripts. This is a rare and important chest which was a likely donation to the temple. It is adorned on all sides with drawings telling stories and includes scenes of the Buddha enthroned, Phra Malai and Indra at the Chulamani Stupa, and guardians. Several examples of ceremonial standards are displayed next to the chest, illustrating actual objects that are depicted in the scenes on the chest so we can better imagine how these standards were put to use as royal regalia in official processions and ceremonies. The number of standards showed the rank of the royal family member.
Central Thailand
Head of a Buddha image. Approx. 1800. Thailand; Wat Phra Chettuphon, Bangkok. Stucco. The Avery Brundage Collection, B60S84
The third segment emphasizes Central Thailand, particularly the royal capital of Bangkok, and accounts for more than two-third of the artworks in the exhibition. A rare late 18th century stucco image of Buddha is situated alongside numerous Buddha statues in the opening of this gallery. This stucco head is fascinating for what it represents–in an effort to make the Buddha images uniform and to consolidate his rule, the first monarch of the new kingdom of Siam essentially did a Buddha recall–in the 1790′s, Buddhas from all parts of Thailand were brought to Bangkok where they were covered with layers of stucco and gilded, so they were all the same. In the 1950′s, when this style had gone out of fashion, the stucco was removed and presumably discarded. This stucco image is only one of two that are known to have survived.
One of Doris Duke’s greatest accomplishments was that she collected Thai painting at a time when nobody else was interested. The Asian Art Museum now has more 19th century Thai paintings than have ever been seen in Thailand, or any place else. ”These are rare, fragile and the finest to be had, ” explained McGill. “Some are on wood, but most are painted on cotton fabric and most survived only in very shaky condition.” Those painted on fabric have a very long vertical format because the imported Indian cloth they were painted on came in this length. When a donor gave their valuable cloth to a temple for being made into painting, the piece of fabric was kept intact and was painted over by the Thai artisans.
Thai paintings are almost exclusively works intended to be conducive to contemplation whose themes were drawn from well-known religious writings. “The Buddha Overcomes the Demon Mara and his Forces, and the Earth Goddess Creates a Flood,” an early 19th century mural on panel, is probably the largest and most impressive Thai painting outside of Thailand (3.33 feet x 13.33 feet). While it has sustained damage and undergone minimally-invasive restoration, it depicts a spectacular cosmic struggle that is marvelously executed in a rare palette dominated by blue, bluish gray and brick tones. It depicts the central episode in Buddha’s life–he is in meditation and is challenged by a demon, Mara, whose forces come in from the right on elephants. Allegorically, this is Buddha battling his own negative impulses that he must overcome to achieve enlightenment. As he is attacked from the right side, he calls on the earth goddess in the middle to bear witness to his many lifetimes of spiritual preparation for Buddhahood. The earth goddess wrings out her wet hair and creates a flood that washes away the demons or the negative impulses in the young prince’s psyche. On the left side, the flood is visible and the demon is no longer attacking but now has his hands folded in reverence. He is thus transformed by his own intellectual and spiritual efforts from a young prince into a Buddha.
Along the gallery wall is a very rare group of 13 paintings that form a complete set for the recitation of the story of the Buddha’s previous immediate life before which he became a Buddha. The Story of Prince Vessantara is still recited annually in Thailand at a ceremony. Each family in the village sponsored the recitation of one of the 13 chapters by paying for the painting that went with each of the 13 chapters. Once a set of paintings was used in a recitation, it may have not been used again and generally there were no special provisions to preserve a full set. This set survived in fair condition but the inscriptions along the bottom edges have deteriorated and are only partially visible.
Some may find it surprising while Southeast Asia had plentiful and relatively inexpensive gold, the majority of these ceremonial treasures were not made of gold or even precious metals but were fabricated from smelted metal that was elaborately gilded, lacquered or inlaid in very sophisticated patterns with materials like mother of pearl or colored glass.
Gold bowl with garudas and celestials. 1920-1921. Thailand. Gold. Gift of the family of Helen King Gethman, 2008.91
Only one of the objects exhibited is solid gold, a lovely small bowl (roughly 3 x 5 inches) adorned with three alternating motifs—garudas (a mythical eagles with human attributes), stylized foliage and a celestial being with the hand gesture of adoration. The bowl was presented as a wedding gift in 1921 from Rama VI to the daughter of Hamilton King, a US diplomat to Siam. Originally, it would have most likely been filled with religious objects or offerings. The gold’s unusual reddish hue, which the Siamese preferred, was analyzed by conservators at the Asian Art Museum and they could find no chemical explanation for it.
Most beguiling and graceful are two mythical 19th century carved wooden sculptures of bird-men of Siam. Once exquisitely detailed, only bits of lacquer, gilding, and mirrored glass in-lay remain. There is evidence that some damaged parts were carefully replaced. The lower part of the bodies are similar to a bird’s—the feet are elaborately carved– and the weight is shifted forward with wings and ornate tail that would enable them to fly between the heavenly and earthly realms. Their hands are pressed together in prayer and the torso and head are human. In Buddhist legend, these mythical creatures inhabit the Eden-like Himavanta Forest. Historically, such statues played an integral role in royal ceremonies such as coronations and some served as reliquaries. Starting from the reign of Rama V onwards (1868-1910), these statues were placed high up on posts and along the main boulevards of Bangkok. Presently, one has a prominent place on the main road from Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport.
Shadow puppet of the monkey hero Hanuman in the guise of Ravana's heir, from the Thai version of the epic of Rama. Approx. 1850-1900. Thailand. Rawhide, pigments, and bamboo. Gift from Doris Duke Charitable Foundation’s Southeast Asian Art Collection, 2006.27.115.1.
The exhibition closes by showcasing three delightful and very well-preserved Thai shadow puppets made of reticulated and ornately painted cowhide. The shadow puppet theatre, “Nang Yai” in Thai, is an ancient form of storytelling and entertainment still practiced all over Asia. These puppets were used to enact scenes from the epic of Rama, known in Thai as Rammakian. Opaque figures, normally made of stretched cowhide and rattan, are held against an illuminated backdrop to create the illusion of moving images and the performance is accompanied by a combination of songs and chants. The screen is lit from behind revealing not only the shadow of the puppet but also the shadow of performer behind it. Unlike Indonesian puppets which have moving parts, these Thai puppets are singular and rigid. On display is a single character roaming puppet of the monkey hero Hanuman and an action or fighting puppet which depicts two famous characters—Ravana and Hanuman–charging into battle on a mythical chariot.
While there are some very rare pieces in the collection, McGill is not concerned about any lawsuits to return artworks back to their countries of origin. “In the 1930′s and 40′s, it was an open market and virtually everything was for sale,” explained McGill. “Things are much different now. None of these works came from archaeological contexts—they were not in the ground. They are not fragments of buildings, they are separate portable objects. We’ve never had a claim and directors and curators from the museums in Cambodia and Thailand have been here multiple times and we have given them photos and documentation of everything we have in an effort to be open.”
review–”Lords of the Samurai” dog-chasing, tea totling, elite warrior poets, Asian Art Museum, June 12- September 20, 2009
Portrait of Hosokawa Sumimoto (1489–1520), by Kanō Motonobu (1476–1559); inscription by Keijo Shūrin (1440–1518), Japan. Muromachi period (1392–1573), 1507. Hanging scroll; ink and colors on silk. Eisei Bunko Museum, 466. © Eisei Bunko, Japan.
For more than 800 years the Samurai helped lay the foundation of Japanese culture and that legacy is explored in “Lords of the Samurai,” the Asian Art Museum’s stunning summer exhibition of over 160 rare objects from the collection of the Hosokawa family, one of Japan’s most elite warrior clans. The exhibition, in its final three weeks (ends September 20) includes priceless armor, several breathtaking swords and other weaponry, paintings, lacquer ware, ceramics, costumes and other rare objects from Tokyo’s renowned Eisei-Bunko Museum and in the Hosokawa family’s former home, Kumamoto Castle on Kyushu island, Japan. The objects reveal that the samurai and their daimyo (hereditary feudal) lords of pre-modern Japan were much more than just skillful military strategists and fighters; they were also artists and patrons of art and culture in its highest form. The show is organized by the Asian Art Museum and the Eisei-Bunko Hosokawa collection, Tokyo. This is the first time the Hosokawa’s precious collection of weaponry and artifacts have been shown in the United States and the Asian Art Museum is the sole venue for this exceptional show. Due to the light sensitive nature of roughly 50 of the initial artworks on display, the show is now on its second rotation and new artworks have replaced those that were rotated out.
Samurai—from loyal followers to fierce and principled elite warriors
The term “samurai” comes from the Japanese word saburau, meaning “to serve,” and was first used in A.D. 702 to describe mid-to-low-ranking court administrators and, later, armed imperial guards. Their title, mostly metaphorical, referred to their loyalty to the emperor. By the 10th century, when provincial governors began offering heavy rewards for military service, the samurai as we know them came into being. By the end of the 12th century, samurai became synonymous with the term “bushi” and were closely associated with the middle and upper echelons of the warrior class. The term “Samurai” held strong aristocratic overtones and brought great prestige to the samurai’s lineage—so much so that warriors would recite their ancestry on the battlefield. The distinguished lineage of the Hosokawa clan, which can be traced back seven centuries, trumps that of the imperial family whose history extends back only a few hundred years.
Hosokawa Clan, weilding power for centuries
The Hosokawa clan descended from Emperor Seiwa (850-88) and a branch of the Minamoto clan, via the Ashikaga clan. It wielded significant power over the course of the Muromachi (1336-1467), Sengoku (1467-1600), and Edo periods, and over the centuries moved from Shikoku, to Kinai, and then to Kyūshū. The first generation of lord of the Hosokawa clan, Hosokawa Yūsai (1534-1610), came of age in the “envisioned age” of Seven Samurai and fought valiantly in eight major battles. The samurai’s role in life was to follow a code of conduct called the Bushidō or “Way of the Warrior” and to follow the Way of Poetry. Poetry was studied and used among the samurai as vehicle of exchange and cohesion. Yūsai was the third person in history to have been taught the entire 15th century Kokin denju tradition, an orally transmitted commentary on the first Imperial anthology of Japanese waka poetry (kokin wakashū). As the sole possessor of this vital key to waka tradition, Yūsai was entwined with Japanese culture. Yūsai is renowned because the emperor intervened in one of Yūsai’s long battles to save him proving that Kokin denju was more important than military victory. The literary ethos of this great warrior-gentleman, who also mastered cultural, artistic and spiritual pursuits, has carried on through the ages.
The samurai maintained their elite status into the mid-1800s when Western influences started to take hold. The question of how and when Japan’s modernization occurred is still debated but after Japan opened its port to foreigners in 1854, it went on to modernize its military forces and did away with many of the samurai’s special rights. Following the abolition of the feudal class in 1871, the Hosokawa clan and its branches were made part of the Kazoku, the Meiji era’s new nobility. They were given the hereditary title of Marquis (kōshaku); the title became obsolete in 1947. The present head of the main family line, Morihiro Hosokawa, former Prime Minister of Japan, is a descendant of the Hosokawa of Kumamoto.
Ōyoroitype armor (replica), white cord lacing with diagonal corner accents (tsumadori), replica of a suit worn by Hosokawa Yoriari (1332–1391), Japan. Edo period, 1829 (after 14th century original). Iron, gilt bronze, metal, tooled leather, lacquer, braided silk, fur. Eisei Bunko Museum, 4082. © Eisei Bunko, Japan.
Armor—object and symbol
Lawrence Ellison, Oracle founder/mogul, who in the 1980′s liked to call himself ”the Silicon Samurai”–has been a passionate collector of Samurai antiquities, including an extensive armor collection. He frequently remarked that he treasured Samurai armor for its beauty and strength and because “it encapsulates the fundamentals of Japanese character. As comprehensively as any people on earth, the Japanese know that while we are predators, we are also constantly trying to capture our humanity through a code of ethics and a sense of honor. (Forbes 156, n.7 (September 25, 1995).
The show opens with a 19th century reproduction of the Ōyoroi armor worn by Hosokawa Yoriari, founder of the Hosokawa clan, in the battle of Kyoto in 1358. This reproduction is basically a synthesis, containing parts that are historically accurate as well as parts that have been reinvented. The exhibition also includes five other full sets of armor of different styles that span several eras, up until the end of the shogunate in the mid-1800’s. Painstakingly handcrafted by leading artisans of the day, it is hard to imagine these ever being bloodied in combat. In fact, most of the suits on display in the exhibition have not seen actual battle, nor have most of the battle trappings, but some objects, even ornately lacquered stirrups, do show moderate signs of wear.
Ōyoroi armor (big armor) is the most formal armor and was used from the late Heian period (794-1185) to the Kamakura period (1185-1333) in one-on-one mounted combat. The suit weighed about 60 pounds and consisted of a helmet (kabuto), cuirass (dō), tassets (kusuzuri which are overlaced with lames) to protect the hips and shoulder guards (sode). It had great aesthetic value and is called “shikisei no yoroi,” the right ceremonial armor. Because a warrior’s armor became his funeral attire if he was defeated, a great deal of attention was paid to decorative details and ornamentation and it was very costly and time-consuming to produce. An early 10th century legal compendium discussed in Karl Friday’s Samurai, Warfare and the State in Early Medieval Japan indicates that the production of Ōyoroi required between 192 and 265 days, depending on the season and length of day. Modern-day craftsmen normally require ten months to two years of full-time labor to construct Ōyoroi replicas. It has been documented that this reproduction, begun in 1824, took five years to complete. This stunning suit of armor, with its combination of white cord lacing with diagonal accents of multicolored lacing in the shoulder guards and tassets, was popular in Yoriari’s time for its exquisite refinement.
Swords—deadly and stunning
Ceremonial long sword (tachi) blade, signed “Moriie zō” (Made By Moriie), Japan. Kamakura period (1185–1333), 13th century. Forged and tempered steel. Eisei Bunko Museum, 1784. © Eisei Bunko, Japan.
It has been said that the samurai’s sword was his soul. The legendary katana, or curved sword, invented a millennium ago, remains a marvel of aesthetic beauty and skillful engineering. The katana embodies the perfect melding of form and function. While most bladed weapons were designed to either pierce or slash, the katana’s two different types of steel gave it optimum qualities for both, making it a highly versatile weapon in battle. Human bone-cutting qualities were tested and refined during actual executions. Delivered with the proper single blow by a trained warrior, the very finest swords were able to slice but through as many as five human bodies at once. (“Secrets of the Samurai Sword,” NOVA, an exceptional tv program airing in Sept., goes into the history of samurai swordmaking and visits contemporary Japanese metalworkers as they craft a sword from scratch using ancient techniques. ) The exhibition includes several highest quality examples of ceremonial long blade, long blade and short blade swords that were either used directly or collected by the Hosokawa clan as evidence of their family status.
A supreme 13th century ceremonial long blade, crafted by Moriie, has been designated an Important Cultural Property. Moriie (active from 1249 to 1256) was from Hatada, which was near Osafune, the greatest sword-making center in the Bizen region. This area is currently known as the southeast Okayama prefecture. In addition to the superb workmanship on its surface steel and edge, this tachi sword (designed for cavalry combat) exhibits Moriie’s hallmark temper lines– irregular clove-shape (chōji midare) lines alternating with tadpole (kawazugo) lines. The sword would have been sheathed with the blade edge pointing downward and slung from a waist belt.
Equally valuable were the sword’s guards and mountings which were often embellished lavishly, elevating them to works of art. The sword guard balanced the blade and hilt and protected one’s hands from slipping onto the blade while using it. The imperial sword guard mounting pictured here was made in late Edo period.
Mounting for a ceremonial long sword (tachi) with nine planet family crests and gold fittings, Japan. Edo period (1615–1868), 19th century. Lacquered wood with sprinkled gold (makie) decoration, gilt bronze, gold, ray skin, leather. Eisei Bunko Museum, 29241. © Eisei Bunko, Japan.
Its scabbard is decorated in the makie lacquer technique, with nine-planet Hosokawa family crests in gold on a sprinkled pear skin (nashiji) background; variants of the family’s cherry blossom crest adorn the hilt. Other works include exquisite fans, costumes, helmets, saddles and stirrups.
The Osher Gallery contains the workmanship of Miyamoto Musashi (1584-1645) the greatest Samurai swordsman of his day, perhaps of all time and a renowned painter. Musashi was sword instructor to the Hosokawa family and founded the Niten Ichi-ryū School of swordsmanship “the school of the strategy of two heavens as one” that uses the long and short swords together. In 1645, he wrote his great book Gorin no shô (A Book of Five Rings), a martial arts strategy manual, that is in the exhibition as a set of five scrolls. The original of the book was lost but his trusted disciple made a copy and it has remained with the Hosokawa family. During the 1980’s, Musashi’s popularity stateside soared as American businessmen, eager to penetrate the Japanese mind, consumed his Book of Five Rings. Can adroitness with a sword carry over to brushwork? Not to be missed are Musashi’s stunning folding set of two six-paneled folding screens “Wild Geese and Reeds” designated “Important Cultural Property.” In the left screen, gracefully-rendered light-featured geese rest beneath a tree and in the right screen, dark-featured geese rest and feed. Throughout the work, he achieves economy in brushwork while conveying energy and movement.
Dog-Chasing: a sport for mounted Samurai
Of the many antiquities in the Hosokawa family collection, dog lovers, archers and equestrians will be fascinated by a late 17th century Edo period six-panel folding screen depicting inuoumono (dog-chasing)– a samurai archery drill that originated in the Kamakura period during the reign of Emperor Gohorikawa (r. 1222-32) and evolved into a very popular spectator sport. The dogs were not harmed: the goal was to shoot the running dogs with heavily padded arrows, a task that challenged the samurais’ skill as horsemen and archers. The event typically took place in the center of an open riding ground where two concentric rings were formed with ropes. The warriors were divided into teams, and the teams waited outside the larger circle until the dogs were released from the smaller circle by a dog-handler. Each archer the same number of padded arrows; skill and accuracy were judged according to the length of the chase and the location of a hit. Closely codified rules governed the size of the field and the number of dogs and archers participating.
Left 6 panels “Inuoumono” (Dog Chasing Event), Pair of six-panel folding screens; ink, colors, and gold foil on paper, H 139.9 cm x W 351.8 cm (each), Japan; Edo period (1615-1868), Eisei-Bunko Museum, 4005.
Only when a dog passed over a rope was it a target and then, the only shots that counted were torso shots; shots to the head or limbs drew penalty points. This screen is typical of early 17th century folding screen compositions of the sport which emphasized mounted archers around the concentric ropes, watching or chasing a dog. The brilliant colors and detailed action figures are set against a gold leaf background. Today, only about a dozen of these folding-screen compositions are known to exist and most date to the 17th century. Interestingly, as genre painting took hold, artists’ compositions of inuoumono changed somewhat, with increased emphasis on the spectators in attendance–their clothing, gestures, so forth.
An Adopted Son becomes a Samurai
Other scrolls in the show range from albums of flower paintings to portraits of Hosokawa daimyos. An exquisite hanging silk scroll portrait of Hosokawa Sumimoto (1489-1520) by Kano Motonobo has been designated “Important Cultural Property.” Hosokawa Sumimoto, distant ancestor of the Hosokawa lineage was a warrior who experienced continual conflict and was engaged in war most of his life. He was adopted into the line of Hosokawa shogunal deputies and into a family that already had an adopted son from the powerful Kujō family. The Warring States period (late 15th and 16th centuries) was an extremely brutal time when warriors were consumed by ambition, suspicion and jealously and many members of distinguished warrior families turned against their own family members in a grab for power. The two adoptees quarreled over succession to the Hosekawa line and Sumimoto’s brother was killed by one of Sumimoto’s supporters. An attempt was made on Sumimoto’s life but he fled Kyoto to the Ōmi province and remained there until his position as head of one branch of the Hosokawa clan was secured. His victory was short and he was unseated in 1508 and failed in subsequent attempts to regain his power. He died disappointed and alone. The portrait depicts him at age 19 mounted on his grand horse, wearing haramaki armor, a helmet with a horn like crest, his sword mounting is slung at his left side. He carries his halberd blade up, a whip in his right hand and his reins in his left hand. A short sword is tucked in his belt. An inscription in fine calligraphy by Keijo Shūrin of the Nanzenji temple in Kyoto dates the portrait to 1507. A portion of the inscription reads—“Hosokawa Sumimoto, a great archer and horseman, is far above other humans. He is also versed in waka and appreciates the moon and the wind….Outside the citadel he takes bows and arrows; in meditation and reading of sacred books he protects Buddhism…”
Teabowl entitled “Otogaze,” black Raku ware, Raku Chōjirō (d. 1589), Momoyama period (1573-1615), 16th century, glazed earthenware, H. 8.2 cm x Diam. 10.8 cm (mouth), Diam. 5.0 cm (foot), Eisei-Bunko Museum, 1297.
Samurai Tea Practitioners—Ritual with Awesome Cups
It might be easy to dismiss this humble raku tea bowl, but this 16th century object, called “Otogaze,” bears the designation “Important Cultural Object” and is attributed to Japan’s most famous potter, Raku Chōjirō, and as such bears rock-star status. The bowl takes its poetic name from the jovial female deity Otafuku, also called Otogaze, and it’s thought that the bowl’s volumptuous shape inspired the name. In early raku wares like this, the raw clay was coated with a lead glaze and then fired in a small-scale kiln.
The Hosokawa family’s meticulous records of art objects and tea utensils mention this bowl by name and indicate that it was beloved by Hosokawa Sansai (1563-1646). Sansai was one of the family’s most important tea practitioners and one of seven disciples of Sen Rikyu (1522-1591), the tea master who perfected the Way of Tea (chanoyu). Rikyu composed a poem which is still quoted “Though many people drink tea, if you do not know the Way of Tea, tea will drink you up.” Without any spiritual training, you think you are drinking tea but actually tea drinks you up. The age-old tradition of chanoyu has been maintained throughout many generations of the Hosokawa family and is observed today. Former prime minister Hosokawa Morihiro (born 1938), the eighteenth generation head of the Hosokawa family, is a celebrated tea practitioner and an acclaimed ceramist and calligrapher. A number of his tea bowls and implements for the Japanese tea ceremony, no doubt inspired by ancient ones are included in the show.
The show concludes with a series of works relating to Zen Buddhism whose emphasis on obtaining inner autonomy and self-awareness by learning to control the body through the mind and the mind through the body appealed to the highly-disciplined samurai warriors.
Ticket prices for the exhibition show include a $5 surcharge over regular museum admission. A fully illustrated catalog of the exhibition published by the Asian Art Museum is available at the museum store, $30 softcover, $45 hardcover.
review “The Dragon’s Gift: The Sacred Arts of Bhutan” an unprecedented view of Bhutan’s treasures
The Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, February 10 – May 20, 2009
Guru Nyima Ozer, late 1800s. Bhutan. Ink and mineral colors on cotton. Lent by Do Khachu Monastery, Chukka. Photo by Shuzo Uemoto/Honolulu Academy of Arts.
It is not easy to write confidently about a distant culture’s art when it is not understood by the Western world and you are a complete stranger to it. That is the precise situation that a number of journalists and critics faced (myself included) when confronting the stunning Bhutan show, “The Dragon’s Gift: The Sacred Arts of Bhutan,” which brought over 100 of Bhutan’s sacred ritual objects to a Western audience for the first time. Even for those with a background in art of Himalayan region, it is difficult to discern differences between these rare Bhutanese artifacts and those from neighboring Nepal or Tibet. After traveling for two years, this ambitious and groundbreaking exhibition closes next Wednesday, May 10, at The Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, it final venue.
A precious culture perched on the fragile edge of the Himalayas, Bhutan is a land that has long cultivated fantasies of Shangri-la. Bhutan is called “Drukyul” or the Land of the Thunder Dragon by speakers of Dzongkha, its obscure language. With limited roads, almost no tourist facilities, monasteries at remote altitudes, and restrictions on trekking its breathtaking mountains, Bhutan’s inaccessibly has made it all the more appealing. The country is well known for its vigorous efforts to preserve its Buddhist heritage and traditional culture, which remain vibrant today. “The Dragon’s Gift” is organized by the Honolulu Academy of Arts and the government of Bhutan and introduces us to the only existing Vajrayana, (“Tantric” or “Esoteric”) Buddhist kingdom in the world and its sacred art which has remained virtually unknown both within and outside the country.
Bhutan is unique among its neighbors and among many small countries in that it has never been colonized, conquered or invaded, so its rich culture and its treasures are intact, creating an exciting opportunity for new scholarship. Bhutan’s Drukpa lineage, introduced in the 15th Century, is the dominant Buddhist school, the state religion, and the subject of most of the 100 plus national treasures on display. The show includes intricate and colorful thangka paintings, sculptures, textiles, stone and metal carvings and more – all sacred ritual objects selected by the curators and the Bhutanese government from among Bhutan’s over 2,000 active temples, monasteries and dzongs (fortress monasteries). “In the eyes of the Bhutanese, these objects are not ‘art’ in the conventional sense, but are sacred images, supporting Buddhist practices,” explained Terese Tse Bartholomew, curator emeritus of Himalayan art at the Asian Art Museum and guest curator of “The Dragon’s Gift.” Even in the temples in Bhutan, these sacred works are rarely seen. Perhaps one object at a time might be brought out for ritual use.
The objects have been escorted on their journey by several monks who bless them twice daily in the museum with a morning purification ritual and evening prayer. A Bhutanese Buddhist altar has also been constructed in the museum’s foyer, honoring the country’s spiritual traditions. The ritual movements and interactions between the monks, the altar, and the sacred objects reinforce the spiritual vitality of these objects. Also documented, and playing throughout the galleries in video, are the colorful cham, ancient ritual dance forms that are integral today to Bhutanese Buddhist practice.
Seated goddess Kongtsedemo, 600-800. Bhutan. Cast copper alloy with gold and traces of pigment. Lent by the National Museum of Bhutan, Paro. Photo by Shuzo Uemoto/Honolulu Academy of Arts.
Bhutanese art has two main characteristics: it is religious and it is anonymous. Strict iconographical conventions are observed as well. For someone whose knowledge of Buddhism is sparse, these visually enticing artworks may be intellectually frustrating because we cannot easily enter the story. But even for those with knowledge of the region’s art, this is new territory. Looking at a thangka, or scroll painting executed on fabric is exhilarating but we are hungry for deeper understanding. In general, almost all representation is a dramatization of the Buddha’s teachings about the path to liberation and constant struggles to overcome the delusions that lead to samsara, the cycle of reincarnation or rebirth.
The great teacher and saint Padmasambhava as the wrathful Guru Dragpo Marchen, 1800-1900. Bhutan. Ink and colors on cotton. Lent by Phajoding Monastery, Thimphu. Photo by Shuzo Uemoto/Honolulu Academy of Arts.
The deities, their subtle attributes, and who they keep company with in the core composition differ from Tibetan or Nepalese forms although they look similar to the untrained eye. The exhibition catalogue itself represents a substantial pioneering endeavor: the scholarship in the area of Bhutanese art history is so thin that the catalog authors lacked phonetic conventions for art terminology. For some time to come then, the art of this distant culture will remain somewhat mysterious because the essential keys provided by their own language keeps it impenetrable.
Among the numerous sculptures on view, the oldest artwork in the show dates from the seventh or eighth century. The image of the seated goddess called Kongtesedemo, a protector of Buddhism, is made from cast copper alloy with cold gold. The rare image dates from the very founding of Bhutan’s two earliest temples and is from the collection of the National Museum of Bhutan, Paro, which is the only lending institution in the exhibition that is a museum. All other artworks come from active temples and monasteries.
Padmasambhava, lovingly known as Guru Rinpoche (“Precious Teacher”) in Bhutan and elsewhere, is credited with introducing Vajrayana Buddhism to Bhutan and a section of the exhibition is devoted entirely to depictions of him and illustrated stories of his life. Most spiritual figures in Vajrayana Buddhism have benign and wrathful counterparts. This intense and vibrant 19th century thangka depicts Padmasambhava as the wrathful red deity, the Guru Dragpo Marchen. The wrathful depiction gave visual form to the spiritual act of eliminating demonic influence form the consciousness and the external physical surroundings. His lower body assumes the form of a ritual dagger, symbolizing his power to quell anger, desire and ignorance. He holds a scorpion in one hand and a ritual thunderbolt in the other. He wears a garland of severed heads and is draped with tiger and elephant skins and is engulfed in an aurora of vibrant stylized flames. A register of figures fill the cloudy sky and all are performing ritual acts—composing a ritual text, carrying an alms bowl, carrying a thunderbolt, holding a strong of prayer beads. Below the central deity Guru Dragpo Marchen are two scenes enclosed in rainbows that form a narrative. On the right Padmasambhava is giving instruction to two demon-servants. On the left, the same two demons are seen delivering these texts to the great Drupka Kagyu master Pema Karpo. The texts that are being delivered are instructions on how to visualize the phurba from of Dragpo, which is a practice that Pemo Karpo popularized and is the theme of this vivid thangka.
I have visited the exhibition three times now, and each time my eyes take in this feast of rare artworks, I leave with no doubt that Bhutan is a country that I will one day visit.
Afghanistan: Hidden Treasures from the National Museum, Kabul
Asian Art Museum, October 24, 2008 – January 25, 2009
