Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor The Symposium Papers in Two Volumes Ph0ebus 6, Number 1 A Journal of Art History 3 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Contributors Claudia Brown Phoenix Art Museum She Cheng National Palace Museum, Taipei Ju-hsi Chou Arizona State University Wen Fong Princeton University and The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Maxwell Hearn The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Kohara Hironobu Nara University Frederick Mote Princeton University Howard Rogers Sophia University, Tokyo Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor The Symposium Papers in Two Volumes Edited by Ju-hsi Chou and Claudia Brown Phoebus 6, Number l A Journal of Art History Art History Faculty School of Art College of Fine Arts Arizona State University Editorial Board: Hugh T. Broadle-y Ju-hsi Chou Donald Rabiner Editors: Claudia Brown Ju-hsi Chou Design: Thomas Detrie Jennifer Kellermeyer Typography: Typography Unlimited, Inc. Lithography: Horizon Graphics, Inc. Copyright © 1988 Arizona Board of Regents All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America Arizona State University vigorously pursues affirmative action and equal opportunity in its employment, activities and programs. Contents 7 Preface 9 The Time of Qianlong, 1736 -1795 Wen Fong \ f (** 17 1{ The Intellectual Climate in Eighteenth-century China: 1! Glimpses of Beijing, Suzhou and Yangzhou in the Qianlong Period Frederick Mote 56 The Qianlong Emperor's Skill in the Connoisseurship of Chinese Painting Kohara Hironobu I-K U 74 An Overview of Stylistic Development in the Qianlong Painting Academy She Cheng \/V^ 91 Document and Portrait: The Southern Tour Paintings of Kangxi and Qianlong Maxwell Hearn 132 Tangdai: A Biographical Sketch Ju-hsi Chou 141 For Love of God: Castiglione at the Court of Qianlong Howard Rogers 163 Epilog: Approaches to Painting at the Qianlong Court Claudia Brown 169 Notes [tdu. a I t^ Preface Phoebus 6, in two issues, publishes in revised form the papers from the international symposium held at the Phoenix Art Museum, 3-5 October 1985, in conjunction with the exhibition, The Elegant Brush: Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor,; 1735-1795. Together with the exhibition catalog, these form a trilogy which serves to investigate painting in eighteenth-century China. While the exhibition and its catalog reflected the viewpoint of the organizers, the symposium brought together scholars from throughout the United States and abroad and brought their varied expertise to bear on the topic. The questions they raised and the solutions they proffered constitute the substance of these two issues. Phoebus 6, Number 1 presents general perspectives on the Qianlong era as a whole and afterwards shifts its focus onto the court in Beijing and its sponsorship of painters and paintings. Phoebus 6, Number 2, in turn, examines those artistic phenomena beyond the walls of the capital, with a justifiable concentration on Yangzhou in its heyday. This is followed by a brief glimpse of an evolving painting tradition in Guangdong and an analysis of the eighteenth-century foundations of post-Qianlong painting. Funding for the present volumes is provided by the School of Art, Arizona State University, which regularly publishes Phoebus: A Journal of Art History. Additional support will be received from the Phoenix Art Museum. The 1985 symposium was sponsored by the Arizona Humanities Council in conjunction with the National Endowment for the Humanities, and further supported by the Flinn Foundation and by Mr and Mrs L. Roy Papp. Grateful ackowledgement is extended to the Flinn Foundation for its contribution of major funding for the exhibition, and to the J. Paul Getty Trust and AT&T for their generous support of the exhibition catalog. To those individuals who contributed to and participated in the symposium, the editors wish to make known their sincere gratitude and appreciation. A Note on Romanization Romanization of Chinese characters in Phoebus 6 will adhere to the pinyin system, w i t h the following exceptions: Anglicized words which are already a part of the normal English vocabulary and are not easily substituted, e.g. Yangtze. Terms and names in titles of publications using different systems of romanization, e.g. The Literary Inquisition of Ch'ien-lung (not Qianlong) Self-chosen names of modern Chinese scholars in the West, familiar through previous publications, e.g. Yu Ying-shih (not Yu Yingshi) and Wen Fong (not Fang Wen). Place names outside of mainland China, the usage of which is accepted internationally, e.g. Hong Kong (not Xianggang) and Taipei (not Taibei). The Time of Qianlong (1736-1795) Wen Fong The second half of the seventeenth century saw one of the greatest surges of artistic talent in Chinese history. By the second decade of the eighteenth century, with the passing of the leading early Qing painters - Zhu Da died in 1705, Daoji in 1707, Wang Yuanqi in 1715 and Wang Hui in 1717 - the last grand era of traditional Chinese painting came to a close. During the eighteenth century, both the court painters and scholarartists in the north followed the orthodox manners of Wang Yuanqi and Wang Hui, while professional scholar-artists working in thriving commercial centers in the south, notably Yangzhou, emulated the bold expressive brush styles of Zhu Da and Daoji. Their combination of extreme conservatism on the one hand and free inventiveness and experimentation on the other formed the immediate background for painters in modern China, when the country's declining power and struggle for modernization threatened to destroy forever the authority of its artistic tradition. Following the successful sixty-one-year reign of the great Kangxi emperor, during which time Manchu imperial power was firmly established, the Yongzheng emperor (r. 1723-1735) further strengthened the emperor's personal power. Under Yongzheng's successor, Qianlong, who also enjoyed a long reign of sixty years, the Manchu empire was at its zenith: the territory of the state was the largest China had ever seen, and there was peace and order within the realm. The population had more than doubled, farmland and agricultural products had dramatically increased, and commerce and industries, including silk, cotton, porcelain, metallurgy and tea, flourished. Yet as minority alien rulers, the Manchus were conservative, repressive and inimical to change. Despite Qianlong's grandiloquent facade, signs of bad government and moral decline became increasingly evident toward the latter half of his reign: his extravagant Ten Great Campaigns squandered vast sums of state revenues while enriching his generals; official corruptions perpetrated 10 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor throughout the empire by his favorite, Heshen (1750-1799), and by Heshen's henchmen reached unprecedented proportions; and in 1793 a major uprising called the White Lotus Rebellion broke out in the western mountain regions, exposing the deteriorating conditions of the Manchu fighting forces. Located on the northern shore of the Yangtze, at the junction of the river and the Grand Canal, imperial China's main artery of north-south commodities exchange, the city of Yangzhou in 1645 had been the scene of heroic Ming resistance against the Manchu force, followed by the sack of the city and a ten-day massacre. Eleven years after the city's destruction, when a company of Dutch visitors led by Peter de Goyer and Jacob de Keyzer saw it in 1656, it was said to have been totally rebuilt, standing now 'in as great Splendour as it was at first'1 Yangzhou owed its extraordinary prosperity during the eighteenth century to the establishment there of the Salt Transportation Superintendency (yanyun shi), which, along with the grain tribute and the Yellow River Conservancy, was one of the three great superintendencies administered by the central government. Growing fabulously rich on the salt monopoly, the important merchant families of Yangzhou affected a lavish lifestyle, competing with one another in conspicuous spending - in building elaborate gardens, collecting art and curiosities, growing exotic flowers, raising horses and dogs, and in nightly feasting and partying with singing, dancing and theatrical performances. A new urban population of small merchants, factory managers, brokers, accountants and pawnshop owners shared in the wealth, adding to the general demand for such accoutrements of the good life as sumptuous craftwork, calligraphy, painting as well as belles lettres.2 Because of its anti-mercantile bias, imperial Chinese government traditionally managed commerce and industry through state monopolies. Lacking the legal safeguards that supported private entrepreneurship and capital accumulation in the growth of a capitalist economy in the West, the newly rich Yangzhou merchants remained an underclass subservient to the power and values of the ruling scholar-officials. In 1758, when the Yangzhou Salt Superintendent, Lu Jianzeng, held a literary gathering called Hongqiao Xiuxi ('Purification Festival at the Rainbow Bridge'), he explicitly forbade anyone connected with the salt trade to participate; only one salt merchant - a man named Wang Di who had purchased a National Academy doctoral degree - was exempted from this injunction. Writers of period comedies of manners regularly portrayed the nouveaux riches merchants as clumsy bumpkins eagerly imitating the tastes and affectations of the scholar-artists, who, as their The Time of Qianlong 11 social and intellectual superiors, amused and titillated them, often by exaggerating the eccentric and the outrageous. One day, we are told, a wealthy merchant was giving a party, and the guests began to play a game of reciting famous lines from old poems containing the words 'flying' and 'red' When the host's turn came, the poor fellow did not know any old poetry, so, stammering, his face turned purple, he made up something: Willow flowers flying, piece by piece, red. The line, obviously meaningless (willow flowers being white), elicited laughter from the audience. Then, the famous poet-painter Jin Nong (1687-1764), who happened to be present, gallantly came to the rescue. He said, ah yes, what a lovely line; it is from a beautiful poem about a well-known local scenic spot, by an unknown Yuan dynasty poet. When the company pressed for the locus classicus, Jin Nong recited the entire poem without hesitation: By the twenty-four bridges, twenty-four gentle breezes, Leaning by a railing, I recall the river east of the old. When the sun sets over the crossing, covered with peach-blossoms, Willow flowers come flying, piece by piece, red.3 What we see in these amusing and light-hearted stories about eighteenth-century Yangzhou is not the rise of a new, successful commercial class, but rather the declining fortunes of the traditional scholars who, having been forced by penury to play the buffoon's buffoons, were compelled to vent an impotent rage in their art. Of the so-called Eight Eccentrics of Yangzhou, all poverty-stricken scholar-artists dependent on the patronage of the salt merchants, only Gao Xiang (1688 -1752) and Luo Ping (1733-1799) were Yangzhou natives; and the rest had come to the thriving metropolis to seek a livelihood. Li Shan (1686-1760?) and Zheng Xie (1693-1765) were born in nearby Xinghua; Jin Nong was from Hangzhou, Zhejiang; Wang Shishen (1686-1759) came from Anhui; Huang Shen (1687-1773) hailed from Fujian; and Li Fangying (1695-1755) was from Nantong, Jiangsu. Most of them came from impoverished scholars' families. Gao Xiang, Wang Shishen, Huang Shen and Luo Ping never earned any degrees; Jin Nong was recommended for the special boxue hongci degree in 1735, but was not chosen. Li Shan, Zheng Xie and Li Fangying had gotten onto the scholar-official track, but all lost their jobs in mid-career and had to struggle for a living as professional painters. 12 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Since the wealth of the scholar-gentry class was tied to land ownership in their ancestral hometowns, the disenfranchised scholars working as itinerant artists led only marginal existences. As the retired magistrate Li Fangying described his plight: Being landless, I must beg for rice to eat. All day I paint to sell my plum paintings at [Mr Xiang's] garden.4 The emotion that gripped the destitute scholar was one of sourness (suan) and scorn, irony and pride, as Jin Nong described in one of his works: Here I paint a horse... to show how it looks at itself, uttering a sour cry, and is full of pride.5 And on a painting of an orchid plant, a symbol of the gentleman-recluse, Jin Nong wrote: How bitter it is for [the orchid] to be drawn out by a spring breeze, Only to be sold on the market alongside garlic and onions.6 Yet the life of a scholar-official, as seen in the early careers of Li Shan, Zheng Xie and Li Fangying, could also be filled with hardships, even mortal perils. To become a scholar-official, one had first to obtain his scholarly degrees, and the process often entailed long years of privation and suffering. The son of a poor school teacher, Zheng Xie as a child lost his mother and was raised by a nursemaid. Confucian studies taught him morality and compassion for the poor, but, unfortunately for him, nothing about life or how to be tactful to others. He was loving, generous and upright, but also contentious, full of righteous indignation and always sharply critical and intolerant of worldly ills. In 1724 and 1725, he took time out from his studies to visit the capital Beijing and to see the world. He wrote a poem then, expressing his own credo for life: Do not try alchemy, do not escape in Chan [Buddhism], Love not the official's hat, love not his money; Wish only on a clear autumn or summer day, To sail Mi Fu's houseboat on the river and lake.7 The poem reveals both a paradox and a dilemma: the student scholarofficial was a recluse at heart, and he was torn between his desire to serve and the reality of official corruption as a means of private enrichment. Many difficult years passed before Zheng Xie had a chance to learn more about money and politics. Having finally achieved his jinshi degree in The Time of Qianlong 13 1736, at the mature age of forty-four sui, he was in 1742 first posted as magistrate - 'An Official of the Seventh Graded read one of his seals - to Fanxian, a remote district in Shandong, then in 1748 transferred to Weixian, a prosperous city in the same province. His career, however, resembled that of his idol Mi Fu (1052-1107): it ended with his loss of the job after being accused of committing irregularities in famine relief. Zheng Xie's administration began well enough at Fanxian, where he was greeted by a string of fine harvests. In good times, the ideal Chinese government was no government at all; as long as there was peace and harmony in the land, the scholar-official could praise heaven's virtues and congratulate himself for exercising a benevolent moral influence on his people. In Fanxian, which was a tranquil, small rural district, the new magistrate spent most of his time painting and writing poems. As he proudly reported to his friends in Yangzhou, 'Here there are few law suits and little legal punishment; it is wonderful that I can govern the place while sleeping on the job.'8 But his transfer in 1746 to Weixian coincided with the beginning of a vicious cycle of terrible coastal floods, droughts, famine and pestilence that ravaged much of northern Shandong. The imperial system of placing total fiscal responsibility on local officials severely limited their ability to respond to emergencies. When a natural disaster struck, the prudent official would write reports to his superiors, explaining the cause of the disaster and requesting help, while letting the peasants starve. Zheng Xie, however, immediately made loans to the hungry from the government granary; and to help employment he had city walls repaired and ponds dug. He also investigated private hoards of grain and ordered the wealthy to set up rice glue factories to feed the starving poor. A bamboo painting which he painted for a vice censor-in-chief included this poem: As I slept in my residence, and heard the bamboo rustling, I thought it was my people groaning in agony. We small county and prefectural officials, Are concerned with the twigs and leaves of this world!9 The famine raged on through the spring of 1749, but that fall good weather finally produced a plentiful harvest. Year after year, Zheng Xie raised funds to help peasants retire loans, and carried out various public works with private donations, including his own, yet he ran into increasing difficulties from all sides. In the spring of 1751, the sea once again flooded the area, and accusations of mismanagement of funds at last forced a thoroughly dispirited Zheng Xie to resign. 14 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Returning to Yangzhou, he decided to ply the only trade he knew selling his poetry and paintings. He mused: Failing in poetry, I study calligraphy; Failing in that also, I study painting. Selling it each day for a hundred cash, It takes the place of ploughing and sowing; In fact, it saves me from indigence and need, But I call it style and elegance.10 'Style and elegance' (fengya), the only armor left to scholar-artists, became the principal weapon they used to spite their 'vulgar' merchantpatrons, whose money bought their art but wounded their pride. But what is ya, or elegance? A scholar could rarely bring himself to speak of money matters, since to do so would be vulgar, or inelegant (buya). As if to taunt the hypocrisy of conventional society, Zheng Xie - who thirty years earlier had insisted, 'love not the official's hat, love not his money,' and whose official career was marred by difficulties in fiscal management - now decided that he would be shockingly plain and business-like about money matters. He posted his famous 'price list' (bibang) with a trenchant note: When cash is offered, my heart is joyful and my calligraphy and painting will be excellent. Gifts or presents only cause trouble. Buying on credit is tantamount to defaulting on payment.11 Such candor made Zheng an eccentric in polite company, but it was an eccentricity in resonance with that of Mi Fu and Ni Zan and was therefore instantly recognized, accepted and admired as a form of ya, or elegance. Zheng Xie further declared his intention to create 'essays that would open the heaven and lift the earth, calligraphies that shake and frighten people like thunderstorms, speeches that rant against gods and devils, and pictures that have never been seen either in ancient or in modern times!12 He specialized in bamboos and orchids, both symbols of gentlemanly purity, and rocks, which represented probity in difficult times, and he wrote out his paintings like calligraphy. His idiosyncratic calligraphic style, which he called '65 percent script; mixed an archaic Han dynasty clerical form with running-script elements. He wrote freely on his paintings, and the power of his language is great; words and images, mixing and blending excitedly and passionately, sometimes break out in torrents of ranting eloquence. The Time of Qianlong 15 Other Yangzhou 'eccentric' painters specialized in flowers, vegetables, birds, insects and small animals. Still others turned with new social awareness and interest in realism to painting portraits and genre subjects: Huang Shen portrayed human suffering with grim images of starving peasants and beggars, while Luo Ping satirized cowardice and evil with pictures of ghosts and devils. Only landscape painting, paramount in the preceding century, did not gain a new preeminence in eighteenthcentury China. If we compare the rich diversity of the art of the Yangzhou eccentrics with the austere monumentality of Zhu Da and Daoji, we can easily see the differences between the reigns of Kangxi and Qianlong. Intellectual life in Kangxi's time bespoke an individual's subjective response not only to the alien conquest but also to the fractured conditions of the late-Ming institution and culture, which many viewed as the direct cause for that dynasty's calamitous fall. Kangxi art thus exhibits a corresponding scruple in defense of one's personal integrity and values. The artist's true self was lived within, and the inwardness in Zhu Da and Daoji served as a .psychic strategy for warding off the blows of an alien world. Yet there was also a feeling of buoyancy and freshness in the country that gave life to art and culture. If the orthodox master Wang Hui openly celebrated a new era in his monumental landscapes, the inwardness of a Zhu Da or Daoji nevertheless transmuted images of nature into private visions equally grand and noble. By contrast, Zheng Xie's alienation during Qianlong's time was directed outward in a protest aloud against the world. There was a new orthodoxy of dissent that, in trumpeting opinions, gloried in the act of dissension. All Yangzhou eccentrics emulated Daoji's bravura brush technique, each trying to outdo his 'method of no method' Regarding the imitation of earlier masters, Zheng Xie advised: Learn only half of it, and leave half of it, and never learn completely; not that one wishes incompleteness, but in fact, learning can never be complete, nor does it ever need to be complete.13 Zheng Xie admired Daoji's bamboo painting because ' [it loved to run as if] in a wild skirmish, seemingly without any regularity, yet there is regularity in it.'14 In his own works, Zheng made his brush run as if in a wild chase, in order to express his 'stubborn and untamed spirit!15 Yet for all their anger and suffering, the works of the Yangzhou eccentrics are stylish rather than lonely and fateful. Unlike the art of Zhu Da and 16 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Daoji who, in their search for a new unification and synthesis of the past and an original relation to the present cultivated a respect for limits, the Yangzhou eccentrics displayed an art of unhappiness without terror, freedom without constraint and conflict without resolution. Rich, diverse, dazzlingly easy and viscerally to the point, it was above all a consumer's art, and a very successful one. Qianlong's Yangzhou was an earthly paradise at a time when traditional China was at its height and all its cultural riches and values - including the scholar-artist's alienation and eccentricity - could still be enjoyed in a thoroughly unselfconscious, traditional way for a last time, before the expanding Western world came knocking on its door. The Intellectual Climate in Eighteenth-century China Glimpses of Beijing, Suzhou and Yangzhou in the Qianlong Period F. W. Mote Evaluations of the quality of civilization in the Qing period vary widely. Intellectual life has been described in terms ranging from 'stagnant' to 'flourishing' Dr Hu Shih perceived in the critical scholarship of the period a flowering of scientific method; Joseph Levenson, describing more or less the same phenomena, wrote of 'the abortiveness of empiricism! In a memorable essay Frederic Wakeman has dubbed the eighteenth century the era of 'High Qing,' and has cited many of the superlatives that have been applied to the richly burgeoning life at that time. In various writings the eminent economic and social historian of the Qing, Mark Elvin, influenced no doubt by Joseph Needham's view that the pace of scientific thought and its application to technology slowed greatly after the sixteenth century, sees Qing China at its best as caught in a 'high-level equilibrium trap' that it could not escape until the West finally broke up China's set patterns, at the very end of the Qing era.1 Those views, to be sure, are not precisely contradictory, but they suggest quite different evaluations. And many others could be cited. Among twentieth-century Chinese historians themselves, some have looked upon the early and mid-Qing as a great age in Chinese history. But most have regarded the Manchu dynasty as a misfortune for China. Hostility toward the alien rulers and their policies has often been expressed in negative feelings toward the entire period of their rule, even toward the early and mid-Qing before the onset of the disastrous nineteenth century that all historians, Chinese and others, deeply deplored. I heard a very eminent Chinese historian give a lecture some fifteen years ago in which he praised the Qing as the most flourishing and splendid period in the entire Chinese past, citing irrefutable statistics on such things as levels of book production, education, philanthropy, growth of the economy and the like. A number of Chinese as well as ChineseAmericans in the audience debated hotly with him, denouncing the entire Qing period as a debased era from which modern China still 18 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor suffers. They almost came to blows. In mainland China recent historians have praised certain achievements of the Qing, especially the strengthening of centralized government, the territorial expansion that Manchu imperialism brought to the Chinese state, and the growth of the population as evidence of material well-being.2 Historians today generally seem to have a less resentful attitude toward the Manchus than prevailed earlier in this century. Nonetheless modern Chinese evaluation of the cultural and social achievements of the Qing period still are not free of anti-Manchu feeling. Nor am I suggesting that they should be. That resentment however adds to the historian's difficulties. Perhaps we must admit some elements of genuine paradox in the age which produced the elegant works of art displayed in the Phoenix exhibition of 1985. On the one hand, by many measures the eighteenth century flourished; on the other, it was beset by problems that indicate to most historians the presence of serious and growing weaknesses. The material level of the people's livelihood was very high, by world standards at that time and, I believe, in comparison with China in our time. The population, although only one-third of that today, was nonetheless at higher levels than had ever been reached in China previously. Until the very end of the eighteenth century peace reigned domestically; even the Qianlong Emperor's Ten Great Conquests were mostly inconsequential border campaigns. Also, through most of the century the Qing state, with the lowest official rates of taxation in history, nonetheless was solvent and often ran a surplus of receipts over expenditures. In a book about that century whose title includes the praise: 'The Ch'ing Empire in Its Glory,' Albert Feuerwerker has written: 'China in the reign of the Ch'ien-lung Emperor (1735-1796) was confident, prosperous, internally at peace, unchallenged at its frontiers'3 The wealth and well-being of the society greatly impressed sophisticated foreign visitors; from the European Jesuits of the Kangxi reign to English servants of the competing British Empire in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. One of the most perceptive of those latter was Edward H. Cree, naval surgeon aboard a ship of the British squadron that fought its way up the Yangtze in 1842. On Sunday, 7 August, after the capture of Zhenjiang, as his ship approached Nanjing, he wrote in his journal: The country gets more hilly on both sides of the river and a very pretty country in the distance rising into mountains. We passed some large villages and Tchang [Yizheng?], a large town on the north bank with the usual ornament, a tall pagoda. Many of the hills are surmounted by a pagoda, a josshouse, or a fort. The river winds much, is a wide and noble stream.. .the whole way along The Intellectual Climate 19 a sight of high civilization and wealth, but with such bigoted rulers and fossilized customs they have neglected to provide effectively for their own defence. Most of the people appear to have deserted their houses near the river. We see only an occasional boat; most of the junks are deserted; all silent and sad where there must have been once the bustle of an extensive commerce.4 This was written fifteen years before the Taiping Rebellion unleashed its destructive fury throughout central and east China. Cree was a skilled amateur artist whose on-the-scene paintings and sketches effectively preserve the 'sight of high civilization and wealth' that so impressed him. But his question remains: 'Why had China's high civilization and wealth not enabled it to provide effectively for the country's defense?' Cree blames 'bigoted rulers and fossilized customs^ an appraisal that expresses an outsider's sympathy for the people of a country with which his own great empire was waging what he calls 'this wretched war! Many twentieth-century Chinese have made much the same assessment. For one example, the very influential modern historian, Meng Sen, made these comments in his lectures at Beijing University in the mid-1930s: The western frontier was enlarged by ten-thousand /z, sovereignty extended west of the Congling Mountains to all parts of Tibet and beyond. Within, the country was at peace, allowing civil government to flourish. Moreover, through the four reigns of Shunzhi, Kangxi, Yongzheng and Qianlong [that is, from 1644 to 17951 the intelligence of those rulers was quite above average. Warfare was halted and the arts of peace were cultivated.5 Their governing institutions were quite remarkable. From the times of the Three Dynasties of Antiquity onward, for tranquility and wealth, honor and glory,6 as well as for length of their reigns, that age has never been surpassed. Yet they were of overweening arrogance and extravagance; they ruthlessly slaughtered scholar-officials; they turned men into slaves. After the collapse of their dynasty when none had been willing to die in loyalty to them, they at last became aware of the reasons for their humiliation and downfall. Alas, then it was too late!7 There we see nationalistic pride in the vast expansion of the Chinese state under Manchu imperialism, and pride in its wealth and splendor, tempered by deep resentment against the Manchu conquerors for having misused their great power to intimidate and coerce the Chinese people into submission, with destructive consequences. In the end the Manchu rulers had their comeuppance, but only after a century of humiliation had brought sufferings to all the Chinese people. 20 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor If the specifically twentieth-century emotions in that view of the Qing can be placed in perspective, Meng Sen's assessment contains elements of a useful analysis of the conditions under which the 'arts of peace' were cultivated at the capital and in the great cities of the eighteenth century First, there is the fact of immense wealth. Second, both the society as measured in terms of population growth and the state as measured by its expanding borders, were growing rapidly. Third, the dynasty saw a succession of able, intelligent but flawed rulers whose dynastic interests increasingly diverged from those of the Chinese people, or, at least, from the perceived interest of the people in the eyes of their natural leaders, the Chinese open elite of merit. Finally, to make explicit a point which Meng Sen has indicated indirectly, the glaring discrepancies between the dynastic pronouncements and its actual governing induced a widespread cynicism and disloyalty. How did those factors affect the intellectual climate of the age? Their interactions generated a new environment within which history took on its distinctive Qing qualities. That environment influenced some aspects of Qing civilization very deeply; others were less clearly shaped by the Qing temporalities. Sorting such issues out is one of the historian's more daunting tasks. Let us start with the wealth of eighteenth-century Chinese society. Already by the sixteenth century China was becoming more productive than it had been, both in agriculture and in craft industries. It was also becoming more highly entrepreneurial, better organized to take advantage of the elements in commerce. The world beyond China's borders was in some measure responsible for those new elements. The Portuguese held Macao from the 1540s, and the Spanish the Philippines from the 1570s. Soon the Dutch and the English were competing with them for dominance of Asia's maritime trade. By the end of the sixteenth century much of the world's huge new silver production was flowing into China, in exchange for its renowned luxury goods.8 Without that massive influx of silver China was already rich; with it, the liquidity of wealth was enhanced and the ways of accumulating and using money proliferated. Merchants organized regional networks. They devised more effective ways of controlling the transport of goods, brokerage services, pawnshops and banking, and above all, the franchises to distribute the nation's salt, produced in government salterns. Salt production and distribution were monopolized by the state and were the number two source of its revenues, second only to its revenues from the agrarian taxes.9 Among the regional merchant networks two emerged as the strongest competitors for control of the entrepreneurial activities within China, the Shansi merchants based in that northern province, and the Anhui merchants whose home was Huizhou Prefecture in Southern Anhui, in the central The Intellectual Climate 21 Yangtze. (The Huizhou merchants also were known by the old name for Huizhou's prefectural seat, Xin'an; in Ming and Qing times that city, and the district, were known as Shexian.) Scholarship and learning, book production, and the fine arts have always been dependent on wealth, in all societies in all times. One of the new elements in late imperial China was the linkage between the new forms of merchant wealth and the sponsorship of the 'arts of peace! Anhui merchants played a great role in that. The Three Great Rulers of the High Qing, 1662-1799 The rich life in central China was only briefly disturbed by the violent Manchu conquest in the 1640s. Seriously challenged in the 1670s, by the 1680s Manchu rule was secure. The second Manchu ruler to occupy the throne in Beijing, the great Kangxi Emperor who reigned from 1662 to 1722, was largely responsible for devising the modes of Manchu-Chinese cooperation in governing the realm and guiding the society. He sponsored learning and publishing, built gardens described by court poets and depicted by court painters, worked at but never mastered calligraphy, and collected works of art. In Jonathan Spence's brilliant biographical study he emerges as a man of lively and curious intelligence, great physical vigor, and at times of humane inclinations.10 The patterns of Manchu rule were well established by the time of his death in the first quarter of the eighteenth century. His son the Yongzheng Emperor, who reigned only thirteen years, nonetheless left a profound mark on the patterns of ruling. He was a very clear-sighted and rigorous administrator. In his management of the bureaucracy, and the elite from which the bureaucrats were drawn, he tightened the systems of surveillance and control, adding a more powerful element of intimidation to that of enticement, of threat to balance reward. Because he relied on the secret memorial device for systematic covert control over the bureaucracy throughout the realm, and confined the highest decision making to the new Grand Council which met in rooms adjoining his private bedchambers deep in the inner palace, the powers of the state assumed awesome reality in his hands. Legends about him abound. Did he come to the throne by murdering his father, the senile Kangxi Emperor? Did he really die peacefully in his palace in the fall of 1735, or did he retire to a monastery to practice occult arts? Or was he murdered by the daughter of a man he had condemned for treason? Whatever the manner of his death - and historians mostly prefer the duller versions - he left to his son, the Qianlong Emperor a vigilantly 22 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor perfected machinery of state, amply financed. Quite incidentally, some modern critics consider him the best calligrapher and painter among the Qing emperors. The young Qianlong Emperor had just passed his twenty-fourth birthday when his father died. He was not the eldest son - the Manchus did not practice primogeniture - but he had been favored by his grandfather when still a young boy, and was clearly the most able candidate when his father secretly designated him the heir. Harold Kahn's learned biographical study of him and of his time has brought us much closer to this enigmatic figure.11 For me the word that most aptly describes him is grandiose, one that Kahn and others also have used for him, and for the tone of his age. The word is used here to convey both amazement and distaste; that is what I feel most consistently as I consider the man himself. Throughout his reign he struggled obsessively to outdo all the great emperors of the past, but especially to surpass his rather grander grandfather, the Kangxi Emperor. He retired effective New Year's Day in 1796 in the ultimate gesture of filial subservience - not daring to hold the throne longer than had his eminent forebear. But that gesture is as hollow as his innumerable other posturings. In fact he continued to rule from his retired emperor's quarters, making his resentful son look foolish. Thus his retirement was no less sham than the image of himself that he had striven to project throughout the interminable sixty years of his reign. In their essays for the exhibition catalogue, Harold Kahn has given us a vivid account of the Qianlong Emperor's 'tasted and Howard Rogers a most detailed analysis of his sponsorship of painters and painting through the court academy.12 More need not be said here about his involvement with art. But another aspect of his impact on the intellectual and psychological climate of the great art centers of his realm is worth some discussion. The Kangxi Emperor had displayed considerable perception and sensitivity in gaining Chinese support for the Manchu dynasty, making it appear to be a plausible joint effort of all enlightened men in the service of universal - that is, traditional Chinese - ideals. And the Yongzheng Emperor, for all the sinister overtones, can be praised for a certain cool rationality in improving governmental functions. Both, it can be argued, misused power and perpetrated fraud. Such was the nature of imperial government. Both knew the usefulness of intimidation and protected the Manchu conquerors' status in China and in the steppe with ruthless acts. Yet both command a degree of respect for the balance and judgment they brought to their governing. The Intellectual Climate 23 The Qianlong Emperor is, I believe, much harder to admire. True, there is evidence at least of impressive energy and wide-ranging awareness of issues, governmental, intellectual and artistic, if not of thoughtful judgment in such matters. At the age of eighty-three he appeared to the Earl Macartney, the British ambassador, to have the physical and mental alertness of a man twenty years younger.13 And if the famous letter that Macartney took back to King George III from that meeting is often cited as a fatuous monument to China's and the emperor's ignorance, we might better see it as a ritually appropriate document issued in response to a situation of whose true dimensions the emperor and his court were not really so ignorant, but hoped would go away.14 We cannot blame the Qianlong Emperor for having failed to foresee the nineteenth century. We can, I believe, blame him for the intemperate pursuit of policies, some launched by his grandfather and his father and some new to his reign, that made the essential cynicism of Qing rule all too obvious to the ruled. That slowly eroded the element of altruism and commitment necessary to good government, inducing the later political and social crises. The defects of his own character must bear most of the blame for that. His failures of judgment stemmed from his meanness of spirit, his unbounded egotism, and his belief that all men - or enough to serve his purposes - could be either bought or cowed. He was wrong. His lifelong sequence of grandiose gestures can be seen as a pathological, insatiable struggle to glorify himself, and simultaneously to overwhelm others. He was not, after all, a minor nabob on the Straits of Malacca who could be forgiven for making crude mistakes. He was the master of a grand and venerable civilization that had long been able to impart sophistication and judgment about human affairs. The philosophical and political traditions that he pretended to honor could have guided him. Pretending to be civilization's champion, he toyed with its superficial splendors and ignored its substance. He must be judged by its standards. By the end of his life in 1799 Chinese society was deeply impaired, the foundations of its government weakened. The rulers' cynicism had spread to the governors, the civil servants. Their cynicism and disloyalty was penetrating the entire society. We must look at the roles of scholars and intellectuals, merchants and bureaucrats, artists and the arts, in the Qianlong reign in the light of these changes in the social environment. Commenting on the intellectual climate of the Qing, K.C. Hsiao in his History of Chinese Political Thought notes that in the mid-seventeenth century there was a vigorous flowering of rather advanced political ideas. 24 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor That movement in thought had not immediately died out after the deaths of the great seventeenth-century figures such as Gu Yanwu (1613-1682) and Huang Zongxi (1610-1695). In the main they had pondered the failings of late Ming government, turning back to Confucius and Mencius for basic reaffirmation of political ethics, while at the same time beginning to develop quite new ideas about the importance of the nation. In political thought, as in some other fields, the seventeenth century was boldly critical and experimental. That did not last into the following century. Hsiao writes: ... After a long period of the Qing court's suppression of thought not only had such ideas as the basic importance of the people and the importance of the Chinese nation lost their luster, even interest in ordinary topics of political discourse had gradually cooled. Scholars and the learned elite either turned their efforts toward the evidential studies of ancient texts where they would not run afoul of taboos, or immersed themselves in the pursuit of rank and wealth via the writing of examination-style essays. Those among them who still retained a concern for the practical affairs of the world were in truth the exceptional minority. Moreover, the literary inquisition was tightly imposed, its restrictions and taboos extremely numerous. Persons who assumed positions and established their views might at any moment suffer awesome punishment. The two hundred years from the beginning of the Qing dynasty until the Jiaqing and Daoguang reigns (1796-1850) corresponding to the period in which Manchu authoritarian government flowered and commenced to decline, were precisely the period in which Chinese political thought turned from a brief burgeoning toward the extreme degree of decline and weakness.15 The Qianlong Emperor's literary inquisition was a principal instrument for taming the previous vitality of Chinese political and social thought.16 It commenced within weeks after his accession when he reopened the case of Zeng Jing, a rebellious minded school-teacher in Hunan who had criticized the personal ethics of the Qing rulers and had espoused the anti-Manchu political thought of the early Qing thinker Lii Liuliang (1629-1683).17 The case had come to the attention of the court in the previous reign, but the Yongzheng Emperor had pardoned Zeng, and had responded to him by composing a defense of Manchu behavior couched in Confucian verbiage. Immediately upon succeeding to the throne the Qianlong Emperor recalled the widely disseminated texts of his father's defense statement, probably fearing that it revealed too much about life in the imperial household. He reversed the pardon granted to Zeng Jing. Many were executed in a ruthless purge of Zeng's family and associates, and the search for anti-Manchu sentiment, whether open or indirectly conveyed, whether intended or expressed in some innocent, unintended allusion, was launched. The form and scope of the inquisition grew The Intellectual Climate 25 throughout the Qianlong reign. In the 1770s it took the form of the project to compile the great Imperial Manuscript Library (Siku Quanshu). The cultural and political evaluations of that project can take many directions. Regardless of whatever importance for scholarship it may have had, it simultaneously was one of the ever more elaborate forms of repression and intimidation that lasted until the end of his reign. Alongside the impact of the thought control, however, the quality of his governing gradually fell prey to corruption and cynicism, from the 1750s onward. In addition to the consequences of his vindictive personal style, a quite general Manchu misuse of elite privilege pervaded society. When this emperor called artists and scholars to his court in Beijing, and when he toured among the great centers of art and learning in the provinces, the dark shadow of his presence was deeply felt. Beijing in the Qianlong Reign At the capital, both in the inner palace city within the walls of Beijing and at the Yuanming Yuan palaces and parks in the western suburbs, and at the summer palace at Rehe (Jehol), the emperor maintained collections, built gardens, and housed painters, craftsmen, calligraphers and art historians. His grandfather had originally built the marvelous gardens, palaces and hunting parks at Rehe, called the Wanshu Yuan ('Garden of Ten Thousand Trees'). It was a place at the edge of the Inner Asian steppe where the court could take on some of the forms of life of the steppe, and where the emperor could meet tribal chieftains and accept their homage in an atmosphere ritually less demanding than at the court of Beijing. The Kangxi Emperor had initiated the idea of having poets describe the scenes there, the poems to accompany depictions commissioned from his favorite court painters. Ultimately his European Jesuit court artists also contributed illustrations of life at his court and on the steppe, and also made drawings of those to be sent to Europe to be redone as copper-plate engravings. His grandson grossly emulated that precedent. The Jesuit artists Giuseppe Castiglione, Denis Attiret and Ignaz Sichelbart were among those who created sixteen vast depictions of the Qianlong Emperor's Yili campaign of the late 1750s. Those were painted on the walls of a hall built in Beijing in the 1760s to commemorate military exploits of his reign, and cartoons by these Jesuits were sent to Paris for engraving on copper.18 European painting and decorative arts, thus, were part of the artistic environment of the Qing court from the founding of the dynasty through the eighteenth century. In his essay for the exhibition catalog, Harold Kahn has argued that this does not constitute evidence for a cosmopolitan atmosphere, however, for this 26 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor emperor in particular lacked the breadth of mind which that word connotes. He was interested in exotica; he did not enlarge his horizons to assimilate and understand them. The Qianlong Emperor's favorite place was the Yuanming Yuan in Beijing's western suburbs, the great complex of palaces and gardens destroyed by Lord Elgin's British and French forces in 1861, and partially rebuilt to the vulgar taste of the Empress Dowager Cixi during the last decades of the nineteenth century. That is the place we know today as the Summer Palace. In his brilliantly imaginative essay on 'High Qing' Frederic Wakeman suggests that this place as the Qianlong Emperor fashioned it became the expression of his private self.19 It was the place where he escaped the ritualization of life at court and the formalities of government, to realize his inner self. There is much in that observation. It truly does seem that this emperor thought of himself as filling different imperial roles when he took on the different modes of life made possible by the changes of setting. He moved about, from the Forbidden City within Beijing to the Summer Palace in the western suburbs, and to the still different mode of life at the other summer place in Rehe at the edges of the steppe. And when he went on his six Southern Tours he played still a different role, much more public than the others, designed to impose the awe and majesty of the imperial presence on the consciousness of the Chinese people. Wakeman is quite convincing in describing the role of the recluse literatus emperor in his Yuanming Yuan palaces as his favorite pretension, the role in which he was the most comfortable. He greatly expanded the parks and gardens and wrote dozens of poems describing his favorite scenes there. He supervised the publication of those poems in an edition illustrated by forty woodblocks based on paintings by Shen Yuan and Sun Hu, commissioned for the purpose.20 The 'inner self' that the poet-emperor and his illustrators convey to us is a person who delighted in bucolic simplicity, in modest buildings set in hills and trees, with no people in sight. But is the person so artfully revealed there the emperor's real self? The British artist W. Alexander who accompanied the Earl Macartney in the embassy of 1793 visited the Yuanming Yuan and has left at least one drawing of the building there used for informal audiences (Figure l). To him it was a scene of imperial grandeur.21 As we compare his view of that hall with the one in the emperor's illustrated poetry collection, we must ask what accounts for the differences (Figure 2). I think it truly is an aspect of the emperor's personality that is revealed in the simple woodblock illustration, a personality here striving to take on the highly conventionalized ideal of lofty literatus simplicity. Yet Alexander's more literal rendering shows us that this was no humble 'thatched palace! The emperor's poems and the illustrations for them are The Intellectual Climate 27 Figure 1. The Audience Hall at the Summer Palace, Beijing, as seen by the Earl Macartney, ambassador of King George ill to the Qianlong Emperor in 1793. This scene was drawn by W. Alexander, artist attached to the embassy; it is accompanied by another plate giving a surveyed ground plan for the building, with measurements, suggesting that this view is accurate as to size and scale. Plate from Sir George Staunton, An Authentic Account of an Embassy from the King of Great Britain to the Emperor of China, Vol. Ill (London, 1793); Courtesy of the Gest Library, Princeton University. a record of extravagant sham. The preface to the p o e m on this particular building, ostensibly written by the emperor himself, contains the following lines: At the south of the [Yuanming] Yuan people enter and leave by the Gate of the Worthy and Upright, just inside of which is the Main Hall. Neither carved nor painted, it achieves the ideal of the pine tree pavilion and thatched palace.22 That is a n allusion to the language used by Wang Bo (648-675) to describe the newly rebuilt Jiucheng Palace, the 'Palace of Nine Perfections; a retreat to w h i c h early Tang emperors fled to escape the heat of Changan's summers. 2 3 1 take Alexander's drawing to be a fairly straightforward architectural rendering; it provides a scale by which to measure 28 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 2. The Audience Hall at the Summer Palace, Beijing, as illustrated in a book of poems and scenes compiled for the Qianlong Emperor in 1745, entitled Yuanming Yuan Sishijing Shi bing Tu (1887 reprint). Courtesy of the Library of Congress. the false minimization sought by the emperor. The 'inner self' revealed to us in his Yuanming Yuan setting is an elaborate poser. How then should the intellectual climate of Beijing during the long Qianlong reign be characterized? It was not, to be sure, as barren as that of Beijing throughout the recent Mao era, but in some ways paralleled that. In both, one might point out, a great deal of editing and publishing of old texts was undertaken. In both cases the large projects to edit and publish were devices for making use of scholars who had suffered signifi- The Intellectual Climate 29 cant loss of intellectual independence - a total loss, in the case of the Mao era. Each ruler thought of himself as a poet, and each had much help with his literary efforts. Mao, however, wrote his rough-and-ready poems sparingly; the Qianlong Emperor wrote more poems than any figure in Chinese history, 42,000 of them, all (in the opinion of such scholars as Hu Shih) atrocious. He produced those at the rate of almost two poems per day throughout the sixty years he was on the throne.24 Both Mao and the emperor were praised extravagantly by sycophantic courtiers for their poetry, as for all their other effluvia. With authority so reinforced, both took it upon themselves to decide which elements of the Chinese tradition had value and should be preserved; in that, it was clear to many that their decisions were based on self-interest more than on concern for culture. Of the two, while both were destructive, the emperor must yield to the modern tyrant for the scale of destruction achieved. These two rulers' self-deceptions eventually caught up with them. They were hated by many, and denounced as soon as people dared. One thing above all they have in common: both have left an immense and profound mark on their nation's history. The major differences are that one was the traditional type of despot; the other was a creature of our own times, with powers and pretensions unknown in the past. And, the Qianlong Emperor was fundamentally cynical in his manipulation of persons and of symbols; the late Chairman Mao seems to have been more earnest, if disastrously so, hence more self-deceived, in what he was doing. While the differences are, for our purposes here, more important than the similarities, the comparison of the Qianlong reign with an era we know from our recent experience may nonetheless suggest something about the intellectual climate in Beijing through the second half of the eighteenth century. In the provinces, on the other hand, especially in the great central China cities such as Suzhou, Hangzhou, Fuzhou, Nanjing and Yangzhou, the atmosphere was livelier and more creative than in the capital - but that was true from Yuan and Ming times onward. Perhaps the most interesting feature of the eighteenth century in intellectual history is that despite the intimidating consequences of Manchu surveillance and the death of political thought that K.C. Hsiao has observed in the passage quoted earlier, those limitations on the expression of political and social thought did not turn the age into one of utter intellectual sterility. Those limitations could deflect the currents and restrict the choice of vehicles, but they could not extinguish all intellectual activity. Modern technology has greatly improved upon the means of control throughout a society, but still has not succeeded in giving despotisms infallible instruments for that purpose. Much less did the Qing state possess the means to extinguish all creativity. 30 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Thus it is not really an anomaly that the Qianlong reign corresponds to the period during which a potent new development in philology led to the flowering of what has been called 'evidential scholarship' (kaozheng xue). On the one hand, that can be disparaged as 'safe' learning in an age of repression. On the other hand, however, it is universally recognized as having accomplished the great ordering of classical scholarship, coupled with remarkable advances in philology and historical linguistics, and the extension into historiography of the methods generated by the critical spirit in classical exegesis. Qing critical scholarship provides the lens which all subsequent scholarship on China's past must utilize; that remains true today. I believe it is fair to say that Beijing was peripheral to the achievements of Qing critical scholarship, despite the emperors' efforts to assemble there large numbers of proficient scholars to work on their great bibliographical, classical and historical projects. The provinces produced the competent scholar elite; the capital consumed but did not exhaust that resource. We must recognize the high value of Qianlong period scholarship. The importance of the eighteenth century in intellectual history however goes beyond even the most generous assessment of Qing critical scholarship. Professor Yu Ying-shih has noted that in stressing the achievements of critical scholarship, particularly in the focus on kaozheng xue (which he translates more narrowly as 'philology'), historians have obscured the fact that its most important minds were above all philosophers. The concern of the critical scholars was not limited to ensuring the correctness of texts: they pursued a wide range of Neo-Confucian philosophical issues.25 He sees the Qing as the third and final phase in the development of Neo-Confucianism, and labels it the age of Qing Confucian intellectualism. He describes this phase as having achieved intellectual bases for rejecting earlier Neo-Confucian anti-intellectual pan-moralism, thus turning away from subjective idealism toward a focus on intellectual knowledge rationally apprehended. The two leading figures in this development are, in his view, Dai Zhen (1724-1777) and Zhang Xuecheng (1738-1801), both Qianlong period scholars and philosophers. Yu of course does not reject the 'environmental explanation; the view that Manchu repression deeply affected Qing intellectual life. But, he says, the internal histories of intellectual developments ultimately must provide the specific answers to why intellectual change occurred as it did. The Manchu rulers could at most deny the period's intellectuals access to certain avenues for the fuller development of their thought, and could subject individuals to punishment for the expression of certain ideas, in order to intimidate the intellectual community. But they could not block all thought and expression. To summarize my view (not neces- The Intellectual Climate 31 sarily Professor Yu's), the Qianlong Emperor in his hyperactive intervention into almost everything was a pompous, petty-minded nuisance. To those whose heads rolled he was a grievous nuisance. He was able to exert an immense force in history, now despicable, now ludicrous, now and then politically effective. The things we value most about his age, however, have histories of their own, in which he is but a form of environmental blight. Yangzhou comes close to dominating our sense of eighteenth-century Chinese painting and calligraphy. It was indeed a very special place in that century, even though certain artists associated with the place in the previous century, including Daoji, Gong Xian and Lan Ying to name but three, may today be regarded as greater figures in art history than any of the eighteenth-century masters of the Yangzhou School. Before looking more closely at Yangzhou, it is useful to have in mind what the eighteenth century was like in other great cities of artistic activity. Suzhou is the obvious choice to represent them. Suzhou in the Eighteenth Century Suzhou had long been one of the most stable centers of wealth, of learning and of artistic activity. In choosing it to represent the best of life in the provinces in the eighteenth century we must nonetheless remember that it in fact had several competitors. China's many large cities away from the capital not only were not 'provincial' in the sense that it is customary to apply that word to any place in France away from Paris, they also were units in extensive networks of urban centers that were too far-flung and varied to be dominated from any one point. Still, Suzhou was the prefectural city of the most populous prefecture in China. With perhaps 600,000 urban and suburban residents the city was one of the largest in China, and one of the country's most bustling centers of wealth and trade. At the same time it had long been famed as an elegant city of art and learning, and of the cultivated norms of elite life.26 Suzhou of course was included in the Southern Tours of both the Kangxi and the Qianlong Emperors.27 One of the artists commissioned to paint commemorative pictures of the Qianlong Emperor's tours was the court painter Xu Yang. His visual record of Suzhou, dated 1759, is not one of those officially commissioned commemorative paintings, but appears to have been painted to recall for the emperor the glories of the city and the region that he had observed on his second Southern Tour, in 1757. It has none of the stiff formality of the paintings of the actual visits of the 32 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor emperor to various places on the itineraries of the tours; those show guard troops lined up in ranks, outriders preceding the palanquin, citizens kneeling as the emperor approaches, and ritualized reverence displayed on all sides.28 Instead the Suzhou scroll is an exuberant celebration of the rich life of all sectors of society under ordinary circumstances. Xu Yang has named his painting Shengshi Zisheng Tu, or 'Scenes of Burgeoning Life in a Resplendent Age!29 It is the finest historical document bearing on the life of a Qing period city known to me. In the form of a long narrative scroll, it might better be called an 'itinerary scroll; for it follows part of the route of the 'Imperial Way' (Yudao) that circled west from the city through the gentle hills of the Lingyan Range and on down to the northeast shores of Lake Tai, then back to the city. Long sections of it focus on the busy commercial life concentrated along the Grand Canal by the west wall of the city. The scroll ends by leading the viewer past the famous Maple Bridge and on to Tiger Hill on the northwest corner of the city. In its exaggerated praise of the emperor as the source and guarantor of all this rich life, Xu Yang's colophon reminds us that all courtiers were required to be fawning sycophants.30 Nonetheless, because the emperor's visit is not the subject, the artist has been able to concentrate on the city itself, although he warns the viewer that it is a subject 'the artist's brush cannot fully encompass! We must be grateful that he tried. Along the route of the Imperial Way he has tried to show: ... the imposing security provided by walls and moats, the expansive majesty of the many halls of government, the charm and beauty of hills and streams, as well as the woodsmen on the heights and the fishermen below, farming and textile-making closely interspersed, merchants and traders flocking together, markets and shops row upon row. It constitutes a metropolitan center of the southeast.31 As for Suzhou's intellectual climate, its academies were headed by some of the great scholars of the age. When the Qianlong Emperor made his first tour of the south in 1751 Qian Daxin (1728-1804), one of the greatest of the dynasty's scholars, was but a young student at Suzhou's famed Ziyang Academy; near the end of the emperor's reign Qian Daxin became that academy's director. Hui Dong (1697-1758), one of the most powerful minds of the School of Han Learning, meaning evidential or critical scholarship, was a native of Suzhou and taught there as private scholar most of his life. He and a following among his students were recognized as the 'Suzhou School' within the larger movement of critical scholarship. Suzhou was at the forefront of the leading scholarly trends of the time. The same could be said for its place in literature, and in musical and dramatic performance. Its artistic tradition was perhaps the most The Intellectual Climate 33 enduringly important one in all of Ming and Qing China. Suzhou and the many rich cities nearby constituted a stable center of cultural vitality nurtured by the prosperity that is so obvious in Xu Yang's painting. Yangzhou in the Qianlong Era Yangzhou, nonetheless, draws more of our attention as a city of painters in the eighteenth century. Yangzhou is a strategically located ancient city in a rich region of central-east China; like Suzhou, it shared the lower Yangtze and Grand Canal water transport systems that served both the government and private trade. It was a city of large compass, its city walls having been doubled in size during the Song dynasty by the rather unusual method of enclosing a 'new city' side-by-side with the old, leaving the former moat and north wall in place to divide the two halves. Gu Yanwu, the seventeenth-century savant who looked into such things thought Yangzhou representative of the spacious ground-plans and uncrowded land-use patterns that for him typified Song period regional cities. The Grand Canal flows past the corner of Yangzhou's walls on the south and east. The city is located a scant twenty miles north of the Yangtze, opposite Zhenjiang on the south bank. Nanjing is about sixty miles up-river from that point, and Suzhou is a convenient one hundred and fifty miles or so to the southeast, on the Canal. Thus Yangzhou is just on the northern rim of the triangle enclosed by Nanjing, Shanghai and Hangzhou, with Suzhou and the Lake Tai region at its center. Since Southern Song time (1126-1279) the arts and learning of China's high civilization had been disproportionately represented in that triangle. Each of its five greatest cities - Yangzhou, Nanjing, Suzhou, Hangzhou and Shanghai - has at some time dominated the region in one way or another, politically, economically or culturally. Yangzhou, the oldest of them as a major administrative center in imperial times, had waned in relative importance through the middle centuries of the imperial era, but had begun to regain importance and wealth in the Ming (1368 -1644). Its location was favored not only with regard to the inland water transport networks, but also by its proximity to the coastal salt flats to its east. That region, administratively called the Lianghuai Salt Fields, had long been the most productive of China's salt producing areas. The Ming dynasty devised a n administrative system for the production and the distribution of salt that by late Ming times had come to center on Yangzhou. The economic consequences of that transformed the city, starting in the sixteenth century, by creating a prosperity there that lasted until early in the nineteenth century. After that time, changes in the social and administrative circumstances displaced the Yangzhou merchant salt franchise 34 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor holders. The famous Yangzhou scholar-official Ruan Yuan (1764-1849), between postings in distant provinces, regularly visited the city that had still been so splendid in his youth, and noted the decline that set in just after 1800. In 1834, in a postface for the famous book illustrating and describing the good life in Yangzhou, the Yangzhou Huafang Lu (1795), Ruan wrote: During the past ten years or more I have heard reports that the decline and desolation grow ever more serious. For it was those whose business was salt who built the gardens of Yangzhou. Now many of the old merchant families are no longer in business. Humble scholars in the now impoverished remnants of the academies are mostly poor and in hardship; government clerks and the ordinary kinds of small merchants can scarcely feed themselves.32 Our concern, however, is the resplendent eighteenth century, not the lamentable nineteenth. How had salt brought Yangzhou to the importance that peaked in the eighteenth century, only to lose it so shortly thereafter? It is a long and complicated story of changes in the administrative structure, starting in Ming times. The Ming government linked the profitable franchises for buying and distributing salt (in theory, legally produced only under government control) to the state's problems in supplying the border garrisons on the northern frontier with arms and provisions. Merchants were granted the right to purchase government salt at the salt fields and to monopolize its distribution and sale to the consuming public, with defined regions assigned to each of the salt field zones. In return for this franchise, merchants had to deliver supplies to the Great Wall defense line. The system for accomplishing these rather artificially-linked matters evolved over time, with a number of changes along the way. To simplify, by the year 1600 it had changed in ways that gave ever fuller scope to merchant control, of both production and distribution. The great merchant networks alone had the capital and the organization to compete for the franchises. The state encouraged them to monopolize; a relatively small number of merchant households, members of the regionally-based merchant networks, gained the hereditary privilege of bidding for the annual quotas of salt. It was a case of the state letting the private sector perform for it tasks that otherwise would have required the creation of a specialized bureaucracy.33 Two great regional networks of merchants had achieved special prominence during the Ming, the Shanxi merchants and the Anhui merchants. In the Lianghuai salt business based at Yangzhou the Anhui merchants The Intellectual Climate 35 gradually squeezed out most of the Shanxi and other competition.34 All of central China, the largest of the distribution regions defined by the government, became their private market. Yangzhou became the prime entrepreneurial field of action of men from Huizhou, the prefecture in southern Anhui from which the merchants mostly came. Gradually Yangzhou salt interests came to play an ever larger role in setting the tone of life back in the home region of Huizhou. At the same time the Anhui merchant families that were long resident in Yangzhou tended to make it the permanent base for branches of their lineages, and while they acknowledged their Anhui identity, they became the dominant element in the elite of Yangzhou, and were accepted as such. The behavior of these communities offers fascinating material for the social historian.35 The Manchus left intact the Ming system of joint state and private capital management of the salt monopolies, and permitted the private merchant role to grow even larger. It has been estimated that the capital accumulation of the group of about sixty great merchant families involved in the bidding for the Lianghuai salt totalled eighty or more million silver taels, a sum greater than the annual tax revenues of the Qing state at that time. Fortunes of one-million taels silver were common, and the great houses amassed fortunes of ten million or more. That was at a time when district magistrates received salaries and supplementary emolument from the state in the range of 500 to 1200 taels per year, and a laborer could support his household of five persons on about twelve taels per year. It has been suggested that the Yangzhou salt merchants were the richest group of persons in the world at that time. They owned Yangzhou, could buy influence with its governors, and overwhelmed its social and its cultural life. Nothing like that had existed before in Chinese history. The nearest parallel in later Chinese history, the Co-hong merchants at Canton in the late eighteenth century and on into the early nineteenth were a smaller group, and as a group did not have comparable wealth.36 Yangzhou in the eighteenth century raises all kinds of questions about the nature of pre-modern capitalism in China. The Anhui merchants, from a poor mountainous region, found in trade a way out of the poverty of their home region. They developed remarkable entrepreneurial skills, built organizations to control markets, perfected all the instruments of trade, and conquered by besting the competition. They knew how to accumulate capital and deploy it for high economic returns. Under the necessity to develop competitiveness and high performance, they achieved their dominant position. But the conditions that the Qing government imposed upon them, while not intended to diminish their dominance, seem to have diverted them away from their earlier hard- 36 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor headed economic judgment and practices. The Qing state seems to have colluded with them in corruption, intimidated them, sucked millions out of them in 'voluntary contributionsand enticed or driven them into lifestyles in which the merchant skills were given less prominence. A leading historian specializing on the Anhui merchants has written that it was Qing policy to 'gentrify' the great merchants, by inducing them to adopt scholar-bureaucrat, that is, 'gentry' ideals and values. In Yangzhou at least they came to lead lives that dissipated rather than generated wealth.37 Yangzhou in the eighteenth century had eight academies for the training of scholar-bureaucrats where we might have expected one or two. In 1600 the Ming government created a special household registration category for merchants, meaning the salt merchants exclusively, and under the Qing sons from this social group had a separate eligibility in the civil service examinations. They won the higher degrees in higher proportion than any group in society.38 Cynically, I believe, the Qing government sought to give rewards to the most talented of the merchants that would be more attractive to them than the alternatives they might have gained had they devoted their extraordinary abilities more directly to the pursuit of wealth by entrepreneurship. They were guaranteed the monopoly on licit and illicit wealth from salt without performing in all the ways necessary to merchant success - risk taking, self-confidence, and the ability to work effectively in mutual interest groupings. Instead, let the brightest and most energetic among them win social prestige and status in officialdom, but in an alternative game played according to the government's well-controlled rules. Under the Qing, the identity and self-identification of this group of great merchants became ambiguous. K.C. Hsiao has said that the Qing rulers controlled the Chinese elite needed to make government work for them by a combination of enticements and intimidations.39 In the case of the Yangzhou salt merchants we can clearly see the enticements. The other side of the coin is that the Yangzhou merchants were subjected to constant demands to give of their wealth to the rulers and to the state, and they were kept submissive by inflicting spectacular punishments on them from time to time, for crimes having to do usually with the misuse of their wealth - bribing officials, concealing profits, smuggling and the like. On the one hand, their great wealth could buy them only a seriously circumscribed security; the government could break them at any time. On the other, their wealth itself made them especially vulnerable. They lacked protection under law of the kinds that the great merchant communities of early modern Europe had achieved. For if they 'owned' Yangzhou in a material sense, they did not frame its laws, appoint its government, or devise its political authority. In Europe merchants could buy kings and rule city-states. In The Intellectual Climate 37 China, emperors could confiscate wealth and destroy any member of society. The insecurity of the great merchant patrons of art and learning also is an element in the intellectual climate of the eighteenth century, for by that time many merchants had come to participate fully in scholarofficial elite life alongside the persons who, more ideally, had long composed that elite stratum. There is still another element in Yangzhou's special circumstances that must have affected feelings and attitudes throughout Yangzhou society in the eighteenth century. One must speculate that this special circumstance added a further measure of insecurity to the society. It has to do with the way in which Yangzhou fell to the Manchu armies in the new dynasty's drive to incorporate central China, after claiming the throne in Beijing in 1644. In that military campaign Yangzhou became a main point of resistance to the Manchus. In May of 1645 the city was surrounded by the armies commanded by Dodo, an uncle of the seven-year old Shunzhi Emperor in Beijing, and younger brother of the prince regent, Dorgon. Defending Yangzhou was one of the great heroes of Ming history, Shi Kefa. After Yangzhou was ringed in by Dodo's armies, Shi Kefa stoutly defended it for a week, against great odds. When the city fell he refused all surrender terms, so was killed. Then, to intimidate other cities further south, Dodo ordered his troops to plunder and slaughter; a truly outrageous massacre went on for ten days of looting and burning, rape and murder. The experience of valiant Yangzhou was vividly described in a number of books and essays, such as Yangzhou Shiri Ji ('Record of the Ten Days at Yangzhou') that the Qing government tried unsuccessfully to suppress. Yangzhou's Ten Days became one of the great symbols of righteous Chinese resistance to alien conquest.40 That aspect of their city's history was of course in all minds in eighteenth-century Yangzhou and throughout the region, but it must have been spoken about only guardedly, and no one dared to mention it in writing except in terms that glorified the Manchu conquest.41 Even a century later, it must be assumed, this deeply-felt event in a suppressed but not forgotten history was a source of unease and resentment in the intellectual climate of Yangzhou. Patronage and Cultural Life in Yangzhou Many of the leading merchant families from other parts of China had been resident in Yangzhou for a century or more by the eighteenth century. They were still designated 'sojourners' and they still sent large sums of money back to their Anhui relatives, yet their impact on the arts 38 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor and on learning came to be more evident in Yangzhou than in Anhui. The issues of their economic power in relation to the growth of a modern Chinese economy have often been recognized. We might also consider the effects of their patronage on the phenomenon of distinctive regional schools of painting and of scholarship. A great school of painting had developed in southern Anhui in the middle and late Ming, to flower in the seventeenth century. It is called the 'Huangshan School' after the scenic mountains, the Yellow Mountains, that lie adjacent to Huizhou. James Cahill and his students have described that school of painters in their scholarly exhibition catalog, Shadows of Mount Huang, and have called attention to the links between that development in art and the Huizhou merchants as patrons and collectors. But, they note, as a distinctive 'local school' of painting, the Anhui School'... so creative and yet so diverse through the last quarter of the seventeenth century, did not survive long after 1700!42 Why not? The regional pride of the Anhui people did not diminish, nor did the levels of patronage of the sojourning merchants from Anhui residing in Yangzhou in the eighteenth century. Professor Yu Ying-shih has advised us not to place too heavy emphasis on 'environmental theories' to explain the movements in philosophy in eighteenth-century China, noting that some aspects of change derive from 'internal factors!43 The history of stylistic change in art, in some essential ways, also reveals its own inner impulses, its fundamental creative freedom. Nonetheless some environmental factors merit attention. I suggest that the Yangzhou merchants, while proud of their Anhui roots, were nonetheless an assimilating, accommodating group in Yangzhou. The sophisticated environment which their money and their tastes created there was sensitive to the powerful influences of the lower Yangtze, especially those from Suzhou and Hangzhou. Even while the regionally-colored Anhui School of painting had been at its height in the mid-seventeenth century, Yangzhou was drawing to it painters such as Daoji and witnessing a magnificent flowering of art that was of at least equal vigor and importance. Anhui merchant money had something to do with both those seventeenth-century developments, the one strong in Anhui local color, the other transcending local boundaries. The Yangzhou merchants enhanced that city's importance as the locus of interchange of the major cultural forces generated throughout China. They did not make it a cultural outpost of Southern Anhui in the seventeenth century, and still less in the eighteenth. For one example, in their home prefecture of Huizhou the rich merchants created one of the most distinctive styles in Chinese urban residential architecture. Yet the visual evidence shows that in Yangzhou their lavish residences and gardens bore no traces of that distinctive Anhui architectural style (Fig- The Intellectual Climate 39 ure 3). Their gardens and country houses are in the style of Suzhou and Hangzhou, more or less the non-local, dominant style for architecture in that climate zone. In Yangzhou at that time, no doubt in response to their lavish tastes, was created one of the four great regional cuisines of China that have endured into the present century. It does not appear to owe any debts to Anhui provincial cooking. As sponsors of printing and publishing at Yangzhou the Anhui merchants were not provincial-minded; they sponsored the publication of the works that their century found to be of the greatest general value. As devoted patrons of the drama they favored performers brought from Suzhou, but also sponsored theater troops from Hubei that performed the newly developing opera, the direct antecedent of the modern Beijing opera.44 In short, the intellectual and cultural climate that their money and their personal involvement created at Yangzhou was anything but narrowly provincial, and certainly was not an extension of Anhui parochialism. An Image of Elite Life in Yangzhou in 1743 To gain a closer look into the intellectual climate of Yangzhou in the Qianlong period, we can do no better than to examine a painting described in the catalog of the exhibition, The Elegant Brush: Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor,; 1735-1795.45 It is the painting by Fang Shishu and Ye Fanglin, called The Ninth-Day Literary Gathering atXingan. It is tempting to look upon this object as an icon, or at the very least as a microcosm of cultivated life in mid-eighteenth-century Yangzhou. It has been previously published in a catalog from the Cleveland Museum where it is accompanied by Wai-kam Ho's excellent study, including his translation of a colophon by Li E (1692-1752) that explains the occasion and identifies the persons.46 Noting that the painters have shown this garden cut off from the world by autumn trees at one end and by a plain white wall at the other, Wai-kam Ho concludes his essay with this insightful comment: Within this enclosure, a special afternoon in eighteenth-century China was quietly celebrated by a group of friends whose subdued joy and contentment speak well of the character of that particular day - a day of friendship, of nostalgia, and of a philosophical reckoning with the impermanence of things, including life. This is a most fitting, even a moving comment. Yet I believe it may be interesting to push a bit farther into this enclosed scene to explore some of its subjects' links to the world beyond the elegant garden. 40 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 3. Hongqiao (The Rainbow Bridge') in the extensive western suburbs of Yangzhou. It crosses the Baozhang River, today known as Shou Xihu, or Slender West Lake, then lined with gardens, villas and pavilions of the rich. From Zhao Zhibi, Pingshan Tang Tuzhi (Japanese re-cut edition, 1843), nos. 50-51; courtesy of the Gest Library, Princeton University. 42 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor The occasion for the literary gathering is the festival of Double Nine, or Chongyang, the ninth day of the ninth moon, which in 1743, the year of the gathering depicted, fell on 25 October. The garden is a very small retreat just outside one of the western gates of the 'new city,' the northern addition added to Yangzhou's walled area in the Song dynasty. In a 'Preface' written in 1746 for this painting, one of the other persons depicted in it, the great scholar Quan Zuwang (1705-1755), writes of the noisy bustle of the vulgar crowds that overwhelm Yangzhou, and of the rarity of pure song in refined gatherings such as this one. The garden known as the Xingan ('temporary retreat') belonging to his friends, the Ma brothers, is but a little place they have built, on no more than five mu, that is, less than one acre, of land that formerly was part of the ancient Tianning Temple compound, and still earlier, in the fourth century AD, had served as the temporary retreat of the brilliant statesman-litterateur Xie An (320-385). It is filled with ancient trees and luxuriant growth of all kinds, where the birds of spring and the crickets of autumn fill the air with their pure singing. Although the garden is close by the unclean city, it is a world apart. Quan's preface continues: Going out its gate, a distance of no more than a few hundred paces, all one can see are the yellow dust and the sullied waters, arousing feelings of disgust. But once one arrives within this place one feels the calm of hills and woods. On the Double Nine day in the eighth year of Qianlong the Ma brothers assembled fourteen members of their poetry society to make an offering to the spirit of Tao Qian. A line-drawing (baimiao) portrait of him from their collection, painted by Qiu Ying (c. 1510-c. 1552), was hung in the pavilion, and each person composed a poem. I was detained on my way from Hangzhou so did not get to participate. Ten days or so thereafter when I arrived, the gentlemen were planning to have a painting made to record the occasion. Mr Ma Yueguan said to me: 'You must not be missing from this group! Therefore he repeated the event at a later date to allow me to be fitted in among the company at the end of the scroll. Also Mr Hong Chuxi [Hong Zhenke] had been forced to miss both meetings because of illness, but because he is indeed one of the members of the poetry society, he too was added in.47 Quan's 'Preface' goes on to make an elaborate comparison. He contrasts the situation when Xie An had used this place for a retreat, fourteenhundred years earlier, and the present circumstances of the group in the painting. For in the fourth century the empire was in turmoil caused by the invasions of the Five Barbarian nations from the north, and Xie An himself was the victim of slanderous attacks by political enemies, limiting his ability to defend the state against the invaders. So he grieves for old Xie An who, although in other circumstances was famed for his cultivation of idle graces, was truly beset by woes when resident in the garden The Intellectual Climate 43 retreat that has given its name to the Ma brothers' garden. And even the old hermit Tao Qian, to whom offerings of yellow chrysanthemums and white wine are being made on this Double Nine festival, Quan says, seems on the evidence of his poetry to have sought comfort in chrysanthemums and wine only because the circumstances of his age offered him no acceptable alternative to a recluse life. However today, Quan goes on, the empire is at peace and enjoys high prosperity, so those of us who are devoted to literature and learning can enjoy them to the full, in complete tranquility. I do not take that 'Preface' at face value, but I will come back to that later. The Sixteen Personages of the Painting The Ma brothers, hosts to the literary gathering in their Garden of Temporary Retreat, are Ma Yueguan (1688-1755) and Ma Yuelu (1697after 1766). They were wealthy Anhui salt merchants whose family was then in its third generation of residence in Yangzhou.48 Both of the Ma brothers were noted as scholars and poets, collectors of art and antiquities, and as bibliophiles. Above all they were known as generous hosts to impecunious scholars and litterateurs who were welcomed into their great library, housed, made guests of the family for months and years at a time. Their private library was among the half-dozen best, sometimes said to be the finest collection in China north of the Yangtze. The library was located within their lavish principal residence, inside the city, on the street leading to the Tianning Gate beyond which lay their elegant little garden retreat. The garden was noted for the austerity of its decor and the simplicity of its architecture. Quan stresses the theme of its 'purity' in his 'Preface.' When the Ma brothers travelled to scenic or historic sites in the lower Yangtze region they took along poet-scholar friends to write poems with them, commemorating their experiences. Their published works consist in large part of such poems.49 Ma Yuelu was among the 267 scholars of the realm recommended to sit for the special civil service examination for advanced scholars in 1736, the first year of the Qianlong reign. It was one of the new emperor's first gestures designed to win the good will of the scholars and potential bureaucrats. Nomination by a provincial governor or other high official was considered to be a great honor. Ma Yuelu declined the invitation, as did about one hundred others. That selfimposed detachment from government is evident throughout this group of sixteen persons in the painting. We must ask why that is so. 44 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Two others in the painting, Quan Zuwang and Li E, also were recommended for that special examination in 1736. Quan however passed the regular jinshi examination earlier in the spring of 1736 and therefore was declared ineligible for the more honorific special examination. He had not expected that disqualification; there has been speculation that he had offended someone high in government. He took a post assigned to him in the Hanlin Academy, but within a year was ignominiously demoted to a magistracy in the provinces, again probably because he was considered to be too outspoken. He resigned at that time and never held civil service office again. He lacked independent means, so that generous patronage of the Ma brothers helped to make possible his distinguished life in scholarship. He was dependent on them and other Yangzhou patrons for much of the period from 1739 -1748, and remained close to them until his early death in 1755. Quan's close friend and fellow provincial Li E made a technical error in writing his examination papers so was eliminated in the special examination. He too avoided official life thereafter. A third scholar who frequented the Ma household, Hang Shijun (1696-1773) and a close intellectual associate of Li and Quan also was among those recommended for the special examination in 1736, and one of the fifteen who passed, placing fifth. His name appears with great frequency in the Ma brothers' poetry collections as a guest and intellectual friend, but he was away in Beijing in the fall of 1743 taking another special examination, this time for prestigious appointment to the Censorate. The essays he wrote for this examination offended the supervising officials, perhaps because in one of them he urged that more Chinese be appointed to high office.50 He resigned and although poor never took office again. Like others from Hangzhou, he was an important figure in the Yangzhou intellectual community; later, in the 1760s he headed the Anding Academy there. Of the sixteen persons depicted in the painting, only three held the jinshi degree. They are Quan Zuwang and two elderly former Hanlin academicians, Tang Jianzhong (1713) and the man playing the ancient lute (qin), and Cheng Mengxing (1712). Six of the sixteen are from Anhui merchant families. Three of the party are natives of Yangzhou prefecture. Three are literary figures from Hangzhou and nearby places in northern Zhejiang (in addition to Quan Zuwang and Li E, already mentioned, this trio also includes a rather well-known poet, Chen Zhang), and one is from Suzhou. In addition to the Ma brothers at least four others in the painting owned famous Yangzhou gardens. Several combined the roles of merchant and man of learning; both roles, in the eighteenth century, could The Intellectual Climate 45 have given them access to government careers. Biographies of all sixteen appear in local gazetteers. Ten of the sixteen also appear in what we may call 'national biographies,' collections of biographies of persons nationally known. The painting thus depicts an elite gathering by any of several criteria except that of prominence in government. One very obvious level of meaning in the painting and in its literary prefaces is that the Ma brothers did not wish to be associated with the vulgar ostentation that had made some of the leading salt merchants ludicrous figures. The Yangzhou Huafang Lu (1795) by Li Dou, referred to above, contains all-too-much amused if disdainful description of nouveau riche excesses committed by some merchants, and it has sometimes been noted that the Anhui merchants were more spendthrift than their northern competitors from Shanxi. The Ma brothers were among those Anhui merchants who indeed used their wealth lavishly but without vulgarity. The painting and its prefaces can, at one quite valid level of its meaning, be read as a statement setting the ideals of this group of rich men, and the poetry association whose gathering is depicted, quite apart from all modes of vulgar excess. The focus on refinement at the very least establishes a reason for this gathering and, it may have been hoped, no other reason need be sought. My point however is that more than rejection of Yangzhou merchant vulgarity, and possibly more than mere detachment from politics is evident here: a clear note of disaffection, more than mere detachment from politics, may be the thread running through the lives of these persons. The occasion of the gathering, the painting depicting it, and the colophon and preface for it written by Li E and Quan Zuwang give evidence of that disaffection, however subtly indicated. The choice of Tao Qian (Yuanming, 365-427)51 as the past worthy to be honored on this Double Nine festival seems to hold special meaning. Tao can be associated quite readily with the fall season because of his many poetic references to chrysanthemums. Still, his poetry collection includes only two poems on the theme of this particular festival, so it is by no means inevitable to associate him specially with the Double Nine; the choice was a deliberate one. Tao's spirit may have seemed especially appropriate to the Ma brothers and their guests on this occasion because he symbolized a number of cultural values that they admired. Tao was above all the poet of the simple bucolic life. In one of his writings he created the enduring image of the Peach Blossom Spring, a stream leading through blooming peach trees into a hidden pure retreat from the dusty world of debased politics. Another poem known to everyone, called in translation Home Again (Guiqulai Ci), justifies his decision to leave office after a brief 46 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor try at being a public official, renouncing emolument and status, to live an unencumbered life of poverty and freedom. Richard Barnhart has explored all these themes in relation to painting in the beautiful catalog of the Metropolitan Museum exhibition called Peach Blossom Spring.52 Tao's poems idealize the alternative to office, status and wealth, and have often been invoked by frustrated would-be officials who could find in them comfort to compensate for their frustrations. Those values in Tao's poetry and the ideals associated with him appear to have had special meaning for the sponsors of this gathering, and probably for many intellectuals in the Qianlong period. As described in Quan Zuwang's 'Preface' the Ma brothers' simple and small garden, a realm of purity adjacent to yet away from a noisy dirty world, may also have symbolized something else that was sometimes associated with Tao Qian - the rejection of the political order as unworthy of a high-minded person's loyalty. To be sure, loyalty to the Eastern Jin dynasty which fell to the brief Liu Song dynasty in 419, eight years before Tao's death in 427, was not really the reason why Tao became a recluse rather than serve a usurping dynasty, for he retired from public life in 404, long before the fall of the Jin. Yet in succeeding centuries it was widely believed that it was either that concept of loyalty to the previous dynasty, or rejection of the government of whatever dynasty as unworthy, that forced him in Confucian responsibility to reject public service. Throughout Neo-Confucian times high-minded recluses wrote poems expressing admiration of Tao, the model for their rejection of service to debased government.53 So far, I have not been able to find a poem by Quan written for this Double Nine literary gathering. He was not present, but he might have been expected to add a poem to the others, to complete the collection of poems by the persons in the painting. If there was one, it seems not to have been preserved. So we have only his 'Preface' by which to judge his responses to that occasion. There is much evidence that he was often rashly outspoken and that he wrote things that might have run afoul of the Qianlong literary inquisition. By the time his collected works were posthumously published, in 1804, the Qianlong Emperor was dead and the atmosphere had changed. Even so, it has been speculated that those writings had been carefully expurgated by his friends and literary executor to remove offending material. Quan was at the very least passively disaffected, and quite possibly so critical of the Qing that he could have been considered disloyal.54 To return then to his 'Preface' of 1746, written for the painting of the 1743 gathering, he concludes it by comparing the troubled conditions of the fourth and fifth centuries with the happy age in which he lived. What The Intellectual Climate 47 does that mean? It very clearly was not a happy age for Quan, frustrated in his career, critical of the government. We may regard his praise of the Qing dynasty as no more than the requisite formal obeisance, not his genuine sentiment. Moreover, there is no reason to believe that he was not among fellow spirits, or that any of those present held the dynasty in warm regard. Possibly, such formulaic praise of the regime was expected to be read by his friends and fellow spirits as a gesture of cynicism. Quan Zuwang and the Qing Literary Inquisition Among the sixteen eminent persons in the painting, Quan Zuwang is, I believe, our most important key to an understanding of the Qianlong Emperor's impact on his age. Control over the minds of the Chinese came to be a ruling obsession of the Manchu despot. Quan was the kind of person seen by him and by the emperor's sycophantish close associates as potentially dangerous. Quan considered himself a follower of the great seventeenth-century historian Huang Zongxi; he placed himself in the tradition of philosophical-minded concern for history represented by Huang. Quan seems to have been fascinated by the problem of loyalty as revealed by the actions of men in times of political and social stress, and he wrote short pungent essays analyzing the attitudes and the social import of historic figures faced with such problems. A number of his subjects were persons from the Yuan dynasty caught in the turmoil of that alien regime's fall and the Ming dynasty's founding. But he was even more absorbed in the lives and deaths of Ming personages caught up in the Ming-Qing transition, just a century before the gathering in the Ma brothers' little garden. The fall of the Ming was still thought of as a deeply disturbing event of the recent past, one most difficult to write about. In the painting Quan sits on a wooden drum stool, the fifth figure from the right-hand edge, leaning his right elbow on a table-like rock while stroking his sparse beard (Figure 4). He appears to be totally at ease, even idyllically happy, as do all the figures in the painting. How should we read this painting? The persons in it were drawn by the craftsmanportraitist Ye Fanglin. The garden scene - we would call it the background - was painted by the landscape artist, a literatus named Fang Shishu whose family were Anhui merchants. Ye omits himself from the gathering, but places Fang seated fourth from the right, holding a paper as if to read a poem; he is a peer of the other notables. It is the garden as he has painted it that carries the more important artistic message. For the figures and faces are merely skillful and ingratiating likenesses, not 48 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 4. 'Portrait of Quan Zuwang^ detail from Fang Shishu and Ye Fanglin, The Ninth-Day Literary Gathering at Xingan. Courtesy of the Cleveland Museum of Art {19.12), The Severance and Greta Millikin Fund. penetrating studies in the psychology of the sitters. In this, the Chinese approach to the group portrait here, by a master painter aided by the competent craftsman-collaborator, is the opposite of what was usual in seventeenth or eighteenth-century Europe, where backgrounds were filled in by studio assistants and the master painter did the faces and hands. We might be guided by that observation to seek the more direct meaning of this painting in the depiction of the garden and not in the portraiture. Fang Shishu's depiction of a real garden bears symbolic meaning. In the graphic medium it matches the conception offered by Quan Zuwang in his literary preface. That is how to read this painting. Quan appears in the painting sitting contentedly among a group of fellow spirits enjoying a peaceful afternoon of cultivated pleasures. But, it has been argued here that those appearances are deceptive. We can show that several leading figures among them were politically disaffected. I will hypothesize that all of them shared in some measure the growing cynicism of the mid-Qing elite, and that Quan, in particular, was courting disaster by his behavior in Yangzhou in these years. It is hard to imagine that the things he said and wrote about the Ming loyalists who resisted the Qing conquest, most particularly at Yangzhou in 1645, would not have drawn the ire of the Qianlong Emperor and his inquisitors. Quan escaped. Perhaps his having married the daughter of a Manchu literatus in some measure shielded him from scrutiny prior to his early death. He died of an illness at the age of fifty, in 1755, a third of the way through the Qianlong reign's increasingly rabid suppression of real and imagined dissent. Quan's idealization of the heroic anti-Qing resistance is a more blatant 'crime' than those for which many others died; that is no doubt a principal reason for his friends and literary executors having held back his literary works, arranging for their publication only in the reign of the Qianlong Emperor's successor early in the next century. The Intellectual Climate 49 Shi Kefa, the martyr of the Yangzhou resistance in 1645, was a difficult topic for the Qing authorities. On the first of his six great inspection tours of the south, in 1684, the Kangxi Emperor pointedly avoided Yangzhou, probably fearful of arousing some expression of the lingering resentment. The official dynastic history of the Ming, after decades of uncertainty and delay in the handling of sensitive issues, finally was accepted by the throne for publication in 1736, the first year of the Qianlong reign, and after a final round of revisions was published in 1739. Its biography of Shi Kefa (juan 274) is long and laudatory. It praises Shi as a brave and loyal servant of a state whose mandate was gone and whose fate a few upright gentlemen could not reverse. That is in the tradition of a new dynasty's obligation to honor the loyal servants of the old dynasty, even those who have opposed it valiantly in warfare. The Qing was forced to be magnanimous by honoring Shi Kefa, but the gesture probably rang hollow in Yangzhou ears. It appeared to be a way of emphasizing an aspect of the conquest that showed it in a good light, while suppressing all references to the massacre that followed Shi's death. Later in his reign the Qianlong Emperor went so far as to award Shi Kefa a posthumous title, calling him the 'Loyal and Upright; Zhongzheng. Those qualities had made Shi resist against hopeless odds; they should now impel all Chinese to support the Manchu rulers. Shi's fast commitment to those virtues made him prefer death to surrender. Knowing the defenses of Yangzhou were at the point of collapse, Shi asked his associates to bury him at Plum Blossom Ridge outside the western gates of the city. Later, his body could not be found but his court robes and cap and other personal belongings were entombed there. The place became an important new shrine of local and even of national importance. The Plum Blossom Academy, dating from Ming times, was extensively rebuilt on Plum Blossom Ridge in 1734 with contributions from Ma Yueguan.55 It was very close to the Ma brothers' little Garden of Temporary Retreat depicted in the painting of 1743. In the text of his memoir (ji) recording a visit to Plum Blossom Ridge with Yangzhou friends, as it now appears in his collected writings, Quan Zuwang has avoided all reference to the most sensitive issue - the massacre that followed Shi's death. Yet his rashness is nonetheless evident. He says in this memoir that when he led this group of friends to honor Shi's spirit at the shrine of the heroic martyr, he recounted for them Shi Kefa's last words and 'there were none among his hearers whose tears did not fall like rain! Any focus on the righteous spirit of anti-Manchu resistance, even in this early phase of the Qianlong reign, was dangerous. More pointedly, as recorded in this memoir, Quan's account of Shi's death disagreed with the laundered version set forth in the newly-published official Ming History. In that we read: 50 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Two days later the armies of the Great Qing dynasty reached the city's walls; artillery fire breached walls at the northwest corner and the city then fell. Shi Kefa slashed his throat but did not die. An adjutant general helped him to leave by the Small East Gate, but he was then taken captive. He called out boldly: 'I am Commander Shi; and thereupon was killed.56 Quan adopted a different account, agreeing with Ming loyalist writings from the mid-seventeenth century, writings on which he was the leading specialist and some of which had already been the cause of an intimidating suppression of historians in 1713. Quan's account of Shi Kefa's death continues to present the different version. His memoir states: On the twenty-fifth day [of the fourth month], the city fell. The Loyal Martyr [using Shi's posthumous honorific title] drew his sword and slashed himself. His staff generals rushed forward to protect and support him. The Loyal Martyr called loudly for Shi Dewei, but Dewei's tears flowed and he could not bring himself to take the blade [and complete the suicide]. The generals then supporting him led him away. When they arrived at the Small East Gate the Great Army's soldiers swarmed toward them. Assistant Commissioner Ma Minglu, the Prefect Ren Minyu, Military Vice-commissioner Liu Zhaoji and others all died there. The Loyal Martyr looked steadfastly forward and said: T am Grand Secretary and Minister Shi! He was then taken captive and led to the South Gate. There... the Prince of Yu [Dodo] addressed him as 'master' and urged him to surrender. The Loyal Martyr upbraided him, and died 57 In the possibly altered form in which we now read Quan's memoir, this account does not repeat the exchange between Shi and Dodo in which Shi says he is prepared to die, but that the people of Yangzhou must be spared further hardship. Nor does it say that when Dodo raised his sword to kill Shi, Shi's attendants took the blows to shield Shi, earning Dodo's praise for their courage, before Dodo's attendants then killed them all and hacked Shi's corpse to pieces. But it clearly reminds the reader of all those facts, and unequivocally states that Dodo spoke to Shi before his death. The clear implication is that Dodo ordered his death. Here sequence can only be consequence, even though the neutral word 'died' is used instead of 'was killed; Shi thus was not killed by some unidentified soldier, as the Ming History states; Quan places that responsibility on the Manchu Prince, fifteenth son of Nurhaci, brother of prince Regent Dorgon, and uncle of the child Shunzhi Emperor. And, by maintaining the accuracy of that version of the events, with Shi's plea for the safety of the people, it reminds Yangzhou people of the terrible massacre of their city that immediately followed. The Qing court's purpose in honoring Shi was to draw attention to Manchu propriety in displaying respect for a man of The Intellectual Climate 51 valor, and to deflect attention away from the unsavory aspects of the same events. Quan's retelling of the events, even reminding the reader that he took groups of Yangzhou citizens to the site and made stirring speeches about it, powerfully countered that Manchu purpose, and could scarcely have escaped being labelled as treason in the extreme phases of the Qianlong literary inquisition that lay just ahead. On the other hand, Quan was an intellectual deeply interested in the historical truth; he was not a political agitator, nor should this suggest that the poetry society meeting that day in a Yangzhou garden was a conspiratorial organization, nurturing covert sedition. By my cursory reading of the two Ma brothers' poetry collections, most of their poetry is insipid. It is mostly occasional poetry, full of friendship and shared associations, but virtually devoid of other content. Nonetheless one must conclude that they took very seriously their roles as collectors and preservers of civilization's heritage, and as patrons and true friends of the eminent talents of their time, men who were, like themselves, totally vulnerable in the face of a government they could not respect, and had growing reasons to fear. Together the impecunious geniuses and the rich men of culture celebrated the enduring values, while helping each other survive. The simple little garden occupying a site rich in historical associations to which they often went for tranquil afternoons of poetry and wine may well have been the most meaningful symbol of their search for purity in an unclean world, as Quan's 'Preface' strongly suggests. The Garden Theme in Literature and Painting During those same years in the middle of the eighteenth century, one of the greatest products of Chinese civilization was taking form. It is the novel Honglou Meng (translated as The Story of the Stone and as Dream of the Red Chamber). Its author, Cao Zhan, died in 1763, just twenty years after The Ninth-Day Literary Gathering at Xingan was painted. The Cao family had some associations with Yangzhou, but more important ones with Nanjing and Beijing. The novel depicts life in a fantasized garden of physical and spiritual purity, a place apart from the dirty world. I do not believe that garden was inspired by one of the famous gardens of Yangzhou, nor even one of those in Nanjing or Beijing. Yu Ying-shih's interpretation of it as a wholly imaginary garden of the mind is completely convincing. The garden of the novel was one into which the politically and emotionally disaffected Cao Zhan could escape from the hypocrisy, corruption and danger of elite life in the Qianlong reign. In his book Honglou Meng di Liangge Shijie ('The Two Worlds of The Dream of Red 52 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Chamber') Yu shows that not only the author, whose highly-placed family in the Banner elite had fallen from grace and who suffered poverty and hardship, felt deep resentment against the dynasty, but also that his close friends within the imperial clan itself boldly expressed similar feelings.58 As Manchu or Chinese Bannermen they were not subject to the full rigors of the literary inquisition and surveillance that ordinary Chinese had to bear, so could express what others normally suppressed. Yu Ying-shih's discussion of this adds greatly to our awareness of the specific content and quality of the elite alienation in Qianlong times. We must assume that the Ma brothers and their Yangzhou circle of intellectuals and rich merchants could not have escaped the influence of that widespread disaffection. Moreover we can see that they had their own direct and immediate reasons for being at least resentful and cynical, if not really conspiratorial. On the one hand, their wealth drew the corrupt and the degenerate within government, for assignment to Yangzhou could quickly make a bureaucrat rich. It was expensive and, for some, painful to survive in that atmosphere. But the personality and the behavior of the Qianlong Emperor himself probably was the last straw for those who had to entertain him on his Southern Tours, where he expressed his avarice, falseness and pomposity to them quite directly. After his first tour in 1751 Ma Yueguan was 'privileged' to go to the capital to offer felicitations to the emperor's mother, toward whom the emperor displayed obsessive devotion.59 The cost of the gifts with which rich merchants were obliged to express their felicitations was very great; the trinkets received in return were contemptible.60 Shortly after the emperor's second visit, in 1757, he decided that that area around the Tianning Temple would make a more suitable Temporary Palace for his future visits (Figure 5). That area marked out for rebuilding in lavish style, paid for by the Yangzhou merchant community, included the Ma brothers' Garden of Temporary Retreat, the locus of the Literary Gathering of 1743. He simply expropriated the entire area. He had also looked about the gardens and homes of his Yangzhou hosts and had indicated certain items that he would be happy to receive, for Beijing, or for his Imperial Villa, Yu Huayuan, as the Temporary Palace was designated. One of the sixteen persons in the painting of the Literary Gathering owned the famous Garden of Nine Peaks (Jiufeng Yuan). The 'peaks' were miniature mountains of intricately weathered and shaped stones, and had been assembled by the great seventeenth-century painter Daoji, also famed as a designer of gardens. The emperor took a fancy to two of the Nine Peaks; we do not know whether the rich merchant owner, after joyously donating them, then changed the name of his garden, or found two less famous replace- The Intellectual Climate 53 ments.61 The pattern of intimidation becomes still clearer in the decade or two following the deaths of the Ma brothers in 1755 and 1766. A great friend of the Ma brothers was Lu Jianzeng (1690-1768) who served as Lianghuai Salt Commissioner, supposedly the government's watchdog in Yangzhou, for a year in 1737-1738, and again for ten years 1753-1762. He was a scholar-poet from Shandong. Some years after his retirement, he was involved in a scandal from his days in office at Yangzhou, charged with having taken bribes to permit the salt merchants to underreport what they owed to the government. According to the charges against him he himself had received bribes of rather insignificant amount, given the scale of normal salt 'business,' but the amount said to be owed the government was ten million taels. He and several associates were jailed. He died in jail; others were tried and beheaded. Officials at court had tried to protect him, but the machinery of intimidation would not be stopped in this case. The heirs of the Ma brothers, to whom Lu was so close, must have trembled. Another case that must have chilled the surviving members of their circle involved the eminent poet Shen Deqian (1673-1769). After Ma Yueguan's death in 1755 the Ma family asked Shen to edit his poetry for publication. He did so, and contributed prefaces to that and some of their other works. Shen had been specially honored by the Qianlong Emperor, even named tutor to the sons of the imperial clan. Yet in 1778, some years after Shen's death at age ninety-six in 1769, the capricious and ever-suspicious emperor thought he had discovered seditious sentiments in Shen's poetry, so ordered the works proscribed and all the old man's honors posthumously withdrawn.62 When Quan Zuwang died in 1755 the Ma family protected Quan's still unpublished literary collection and may have counselled the long delay in their publication to avoid the literary inquisition, then coming into its height. As the reign of this willful, perverse emperor continued, the influence exerted by unworthy councillors increased, and the literary inquisition became more fearful, for in the hands of his servile agents the charges of sedition could be used to accomplish all manner of private ends. At the same time the ruler's avarice threatened all who owned things of beauty and of high value. Collectors are said to have had skilled copies of their best-known objects made so that if the emperor asked to see them, he might be gulled into demanding the copy thinking he had the original. That genuine connoisseurs despised him for his pompous ignorance seems well attested.63 The intellectual climate in cities such as Yangzhou during the eighteenth century thus was in many ways impinged upon and threatened by the character of the Qianlong Emperor himself. The cultivated elite mostly 54 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 5. The Qianlong Emperor's Imperial Villa at Yangzhou. The northwest corner of the city wall is shown in the foreground; the villa, lying outside the city wall, occupied most of the grounds of a Buddhist temple compound. From Li Dou, Yangzhou Huafang Lu (1839 edition); courtesy of the Library of Congress. managed to live with that influence, to detest it quietly while making the necessary bows in his direction, giving up money and objects when necessary, hoping that lightning would not strike them or their friends. The most saddening of the effects of his character on his age was that it turned many members of the elite, some of them talented and able, into sycophants and opportunists. The atmosphere was sullied by their behavior. It added painfully to the pollution from which the Ma brothers and their friends escaped to their pure, elegant gardens, their collections The Intellectual Climate 55 of books and of paintings, and their interaction among like spirits. Their painting and poetry may not have reached the highest standards, but the meaning of their cultured lives for the preservation of Chinese civilization is nonetheless of high historical significance. I accept the painting of The Ninth-Day Literary Gathering at Xing an as an important historical document. I have quoted Wai-kam Ho above in his summation of the painting's meaning. To repeat, in part, he wrote: Within this enclosure, a special afternoon in eighteenth-century China was quietly celebrated by a group of friends whose subdued joy and contentment speak well of the character of that particular day... I think we must add that this group of friends had found in this garden a way to maintain their commitment to their cultural values in a time when those were threatened. The history of their century shows that they did not wholly succeed. But there is perhaps more suppressed resentment, and more quiet valor in their 'subdued joy and contentment' than is immediately apparent. The garden's walls permitted their temporary retreat from a sullied world. They could neither flee from it entirely, nor express their resentment against it openly. In deeply felt and subtle ways, however, they sought to maintain their self-respect through shared rituals of truth and beauty. The Qianlong Emperor's Skill in the Connoisseurship of Chinese Painting Kohara Hironobu Many scholars of Chinese painting have faulted the Qianlong Emperor for misjudgments on paintings and calligraphies in his collection, belittling his skills in connoisseurship.1 In particular, his flawed evaluation of the two versions of Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains by Huang Gongwang (1269 -13 54) has been most often cited.2 In recent times, Xu Bangda has charged him for having mis-attributed four versions of the same master's River and Hills before Rain.3 Both of these mistakes, however, were made during the early years of his reign, around 1745, before he had had sufficient experience with collecting ancient paintings. The emperor was just beginning to learn the art of connoisseurship at that time. Furthermore, responsibility for the flawed evaluation of the Fuchun scroll was not the emperor's alone, but should be shared with his staff. Describing the occasion on which he first saw the Wuyong version - considered by most art historians today to be genuine, as opposed to the Ziming copy, also in the imperial collection - the emperor wrote: Looking at it briefly by candlelight, I was quite astonished to find that it was the Fuchun scroll.... The next day, I requested Liang Shizheng and others to investigate the authenticity of the two scrolls. All of them replied unanimously that the earlier acquisition [the Ziming version] was genuine and that the new one [the Wuyong] was a forgery. I examined both paintings very carefully over and over again and was convinced that my initial astonishment, under candlelight, over having acquired yet another Fuchun was a mistake.4 His remark here, expressing surprise, suggests that this was the first time he was faced with two versions of the same painting. Although the preface to Bidian Zhulin • Shiqu Baoji, the first catalogs of the imperial collection, contains a discussion on how to distinguish genuine paintings from forgeries, the emperor himself seemed at first unable to square this conceptual understanding with actual circumstances.5 The Emperor's Connoisseurship 57 To what extent did Qianlong develop his skills in connoisseurship? As mentioned above, scholars have seriously criticized the faulty eyes of his youth, but no one has taken the trouble to observe his skills later in life. It is the intent of this paper to trace his development as a connoisseur, utilizing the poems and inscriptions he wrote on the paintings in order to document his progress. I The Qianlong emperor began collecting paintings and calligraphies when he was still a prince. By the time he was twenty years of age, he owned 46 pieces, including a painting by Li Sixun (651-716), two by Huizong (1082-1135), three by Zhao Mengfu (1254-1322) and one by Shen Zhou (1427-1509) .6 When the first catalogs of the imperial collection appeared, however, half of these paintings were entered into the second class, a ranking which indicated that they were either uninteresting originals or good copies. The rest were neither recorded in this nor in any of the later catalogs of the imperial collection. The emperor seems thus to have repudiated many of the decisions of his youth. In December of 1743, the eighth year of the emperor's reign, began the compilation of Bidian Zhulin, the catalog of religious figure paintings in the collection. Admitting to difficulties, the staff wrote, 'if we could not decide whether or not a painting was genuine, but if the brush and ink were of surpassing quality, we tentatively entered it into the first class and waited to find further proof,' and 'if we had several versions of the same painting and, after examination, found them to be genuine, we would enter them all into the first class!7 In the next year, after having worked with paintings for eleven months, the staff seemed to have gained confidence. One passage in Shiqu Baoji reads: 'The paintings and calligraphies in this catalog are all masterpieces. No matter how faithful a copy is, it has been entered into the second class!8 Although the principle of this classification is very simple - genuine works being assigned to the first class and copies to the second class, the paintings did not easily lend themselves to this scheme. As a result, problems did arise. For example, Autumn Colors on Rivers and Mountains, a fine painting by Zhao Boju (d. c. 1160) now in the Palace Museum, Beijing, was entered into the second class because it did not have the signature of the artist.9 Only in 1757, the 22nd year of his reign, did the emperor finally begin to realize that paintings assigned to Zhao Boju did not usually bear his signature, and those in the imperial collection were 58 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor but attributions made by famous collectors in the past.10 However, the catalog entry for Autumn Colors on Rivers and Mountains was never revised, even though revisions were made in other instances.11 The second two-part catalog of the imperial collection, Bidian Zhulin • Shiqu Baoji Xubian, was compiled in the period between 1791 and 1793. Compared to all the previous catalogs, it evidences the highest standard of scholarship - with the emperor himself fully in charge. In the edict decreeing its compilation, he wrote with great feeling: 'Zhang Zhao, Liang Shizheng and others...; that is, the compilers of the Chubian, 'now have all passed away. This is truly sorrowful!12 Indeed, after 1793, none of the original compilers of the first catalogs was alive. In nearly 80 percent of the items in the second series, it was the emperor himself who decided whether the painting in question was a genuine work, a forgery or a copy, and personally added poem(s), inscription(s), label or frontispiece to it. When the Chubian was being compiled, everyone on the staff, including the emperor himself, started out as an amateur. Forty-eight years later, only the emperor was an authority. In one note, the compilers of Shiqu Baoji Xubian wrote: At the completion of each chapter, we respectfully requested that [His Majesty] should check it. Concerning this particular work, His Majesty found the techniques of painting and the substance of the poetic inscriptions contained therein to be alien to its [purported] period. He therefore ordered an investigation.13 In short, the emperor had become the leader and instructor of his staff, and he did so through having evolved a distinct approach to the art of connoisseurship. Looking back, the emperor in those early years between 1747 and 1755 wrote many poems on the works in his collection. As prolific as he was, these writings showed little originality. He followed in the footsteps of Ming or early Qing connoisseurs, especially Dong Qichang (1555-1636). In 1746, for example, he composed poems and inscriptions on Wang Wei's Snow Landscape,14 but these were little more than praises. In 1748, he called for Zhao Mengfu's Autumn Colors on the Qiao and Hua Mountains to be brought before him and the resultant inscription merely conveyed his satisfaction with its resemblance to the actual scenery in Shandong.15 The Emperor's Connoisseurship 59 In 1749, he revised the old attribution of Nymph of the Luo River from Gu Kaizhi (c. 344-406) to an anonymous painter of the Song. He commented: In an inscription of 1747,1 had supposed this painting to be an original work of Changkang [Gu Kaizhi]. In 1749, when I reexamined it, and compared it to his Admonition to the Court Ladies in the Inner Palace..., [I found] the brush flavor to be entirely different.16 Between the years 1755 and 1765, the second and third decade of his reign, no significant development in his connoisseurship can be detected. What was noticeable was that by then he had become familiar with the sleight of a forger's hand, such as the replacement of an original signature with that of a famous painter, or the exchange of colophons between a genuine painting and a forged one. In his evaluation, usage of such expressions as 'no doubt genuine' and 'without doubt a Tang painting' declined considerably, indicating that he had become more thoughtful in forming his decisions. He also began to compare old possessions with new acquisitions. Re-examining paintings he had studied before, he often wrote new inscriptions on them, sometimes reversing an earlier opinion or adding new thoughts. In 1772, a remarkable transformation occurred. In a long colophon on an anonymous Song painting of the Wangchuan Villa, he noted: I have compared this painting with Wang Wei's Snow Landscape and found that, in technique, these two paintings are quite different— On checking Xuanhe Huapu, which records 126 paintings by Wang Wei, it does not mention a painting of Wangchuan Villa... Neither the biography of Wang Wei in the Old Tang History nor that in the New Tang History... mention that he personally painted such a picture. In addition, Lidai Minghua Ji merely records that Wang Wei painted a scene of the Wangchuan Villa on the wall at Qingyuan Temple, and not a complete set of scenes... [I believe] someone conceived the idea of making a handscroll composition after Wang Wei's wall painting at the temple. This could have happened roughly in [Wang Wei's] own time, or during the Song period... Therefore, while I can accept all those Wangchuan scrolls we come to know as copies, I cannot accept their original prototype to be from Wang Wei's own hand.17 This colophon calls attention to Qianlong's distinct turn of mind and his method of connoisseurship. It was based on a rational analysis of the texts associated with a given painting, from which to evolve what sometimes may now appear to be far-fetched and skeptical ideas.18 Previously 60 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor he had made many such comments on painters' biographies and on subjects related to painting, but this was the first case in which he applied this approach in a consistent manner. In this inscription, Qianlong insisted, in an irritated tone, that 'no one before has ever completely understood the nature of painting (huali)',19 implying that only he himself had total mastery of it. He declared with confidence that he was the most authoritative connoisseur of all time. Indeed, at the age of 63, when Qianlong wrote the colophon cited above, he had bypassed traditional connoisseurship as practiced by Ming or early Qing scholars and collectors, whose judgments were made primarily on stylistic bases. If, in the two previous decades, the emperor had pointed to the composition or motifs when discussing a given work,20 he ceased to do so with any consistency after 1772. This was in spite of his insistence, in records ranging between 1746 and 1784, that in order to distinguish genuine paintings from forgeries, connoisseurs should analyze the quality of brush and ink. Those who rely upon signatures, colophons, seals or similar documentation were, he said, 'only vulgar dealers!21 In fact, before 1746, he had been suspicious of relying upon texts alone in the investigation of a painting: 'We cannot trust all the documents in books.'22 He himself however did not always maintain this principle, and eventually turned away from it.23 On the whole, the emperor and his staff came to consider the painters of the past as signs or ciphers only.24 They valued the subject of a painting more than the painting itself. Similarly, they considered the colophons on a painting to be more informative than the painting itself. In 1787 for example Qianlong wrote about a version of Elegant Gathering in the Western Garden attributed to Li Gonglin (c. 1106-1106): Although the composition looks old and it appears to be painted in Li Gonglin's manner, the method of painting is very different from that in other [Li Gonglin] attributions. I requested my staff to correct the inscriptions and labels on the scroll by referring to Mi Fu's version of the same.. " From an initial perception of stylistic dissimilarities, the emperor went on, in a characteristic way, to enumerate the errors in the painting, such as the altered sequence of scenes as well as the mistaken identity of some of the participants. By nature, the emperor was deeply rational. He could not tolerate mistakes, particularly with regard to written records.26 All through the imperial catalogs may be found the numerous corrections he made of old The Emperor's Connoisseurship 61 inscriptions where he indicated the nature of the faults or discrepancies involved. In investigating painting, he relied heavily upon the written word as carrier of truth.27 Herein also lies the weakness of his method: his increasing reliance upon textual evidence over stylistic criteria. This is due not to limited experience, but rather to personal disinclination - even inability - to make stylistic judgments in a studied manner. If the painting in question was without identifying signatures, seals, colophons or labels, the emperor and his staff were at a loss.28 The emperor often imputed that much of the confusion of connoisseurs in the past stemmed from the disappearance of the author's signature from the painting. Under such circumstances, it was deemed best to abandon the attempt to determine authorship.29 Thus, in 1773, the emperor found himself hesitating when it came to the authorship of an unsigned handscroll, The Fishing Village. Wang Shimin (1592-1680), the early Qing painter and connoisseur, had sought to attribute it to Zhou Chen (active c. 1500-1535) rather than to Tang Yin (1470-1523): Tang Yin painted too freely and spontaneously, while Zhou Chen never deviated even a hair's width from the regular method of painting. This painting ... cannot but be painted by Zhou Chen.30 Qianlong, however, was skeptical. He himself was unable to come to a firm decision. In spite of the plentitude of comparative materials in the imperial collection, he desisted from approaching the painting visually. Similarly, when the emperor and his staff were unable to locate reference to a given painting in old texts, they concluded that it was either a late work or, alternatively, a forgery. It may be pertinent to cite two more instances of imperial connoisseurship. The first pertains to a boneless landscape formerly attributed to Zhang Sengyou, active in the sixth century, and which is in the collection of the National Palace Museum, Taipei (Figure l). Concerning this painting, the emperor wrote: When we checked [such Tang texts] as [Lidai] Minghua Ji, Huapin and Huaduan, they all contained references to Zhang Sengyou's life and art. None however mentioned that he was skilled in landscape. In this scroll, there is an 62 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 1. Anonymous, Landscape after Zhang Sengyou. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. The Emperor's Connoisseurship 63 inscription by Xuanhe [Emperor Huizong] as well as his imperial seal. But the painting was not listed under the category of landscape in Xuanhe Huapu. We do not know who painted it. For the time being, we will leave the matter at that.31 Subsequently, the attribution was changed to 'an anonymous painter of the Song Dynasty^ The second example also concerns a hanging scroll, entitled The Great Yu Controlling the Water, attributed to an anonymous Tang master.32 Regarding this, the emperor suggested that so long as the signature was lacking, one might select a name from those masters who were recorded to have painted the subjects, such as Gu Kaizhi, Zhan Zhiqian (active sixth century), Zhou Wenju (active tenth century), Zhu Jiangzhang (active tenth century) or Zhao Boju. To the extent that the works of Gu and Zhan were judged to be more archaic in temperament than the painting in question, and the works of the last-named, Zhao Boju, display a weaker hand - as evidenced in The Red Cliff in the imperial collection - a compromise attribution, the emperor suggested, might well be to Zhou Wenju. As is evident, he was neither inclined to study the style of a painting, nor did he care to speculate, in these two instances, on Zhang's style or that of Tang painting in general. Whenever the emperor found a problem with a painting, he would turn to textual sources rather than related paintings. Imperial colophons written after 1772 tended to be knowledgeable and erudite, giving a complex evaluation of paintings in question.33 In a colophon dated 1775 on The Luoyang Pavilion (Figure 2) by Li Zhaodao (active c. 670-730), first he decried the weakness of Dong Qichang's calligraphy in the colophon mounted above the painting, 'bearing little resemblance to his known works.'34 And second, he attacked the content of Dong's colophon itself. The Ming master had stated that he saw this painting once before as a handscroll and not as a hanging scroll, as it had become. He also had noticed many more colophons as well as seals of Jia Sidao (d. 1275), Mi Fu (1051-1107) and Wu Kuan (1435-1504) in the prior state. But upon seeing it again when it was in the collection of Xiang Yuanbian (1525-1596), he saw none. This, the emperor countered by pointing to Jia Sidao's seal in one of the corners of the painting, even though others were lost. He further deduced that Dong's colophon was probably the work of a forger who not only imitated the Ming master's calligraphic style but also added a forged signature of Li Zhaodao to the painting itself. I .Q K < 1 > i # A. * A i A f Jk i R * % Jf * ii * -A A £ * * i * n 3L J* '4 if A y> i * m i -r t i u Ji H > ** * 1 « # ft \ * * i A t a n it t (l m •r A * ^ # * 1 i £ * j. v * J* 4 «"» * « 5 t £ i £ f I S i i t -It n jl * « . -- tr ' ( i» 4 T to J- * * * t -'.L.'f « I * rp % \ * I 1 t ».«.*» * * •» ». I ® *« / Figure 2. UZhaodao, 1heLuayan3 Pavilion. Collection of the National Palace . . Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. The Emperor's Connoisseurship 65 How far the imperial skill in connoisseurship had progressed is made clear when this colophon is compared with the far simpler remark appended by his staff compilers before 1745 to a painting by Liu Songnian (c. 1150 - after 1225). Perhaps with the concurrence of the emperor, they wrote: All the colophons on this painting seem to have been written by the same hand. Probably there was a painting by the same title of Nine Elders [of Xiangshan], which received the comments and inscriptions of noted personages. It was these that were gathered and then recorded by the [former] collector of this painting." Ill It is easy to see that Qianlong's method required an able staff for support, to collect written materials and examine texts. Indeed, in 1771, the year before his major change in critical attitude was to take place, the old staff was being replaced with a new one for the compilation of the second series, or Xubian. Both staffs consisted of nine or ten men, but there was a major difference between the two. The members of the former group had varied in age, career and social status. Those of the new staff were much closer to each other in those respects. In fact, the older half of the new staff had entered the Nanshufang (Imperial Study) together in 1767 after having passed the same jinshi examination and had shared careers as officials.36 The staff of the Nanshufang was selected from the members of the Hanlin academy and these men were treated by the emperor much as classmates. They wrote the drafts of the imperial catalogs in the Maoqin Hall, which provided an excellent library for research in painting and calligraphy.37 In these drafts, they usually inserted small sheets of paper, without signatures, to mark those passages requiring the emperor's attention.38 Their gatherings have been described by Ruan Yuan (1764-1849): In days when the weather was fine and calm and after the morning court session ended, we would open the windows and, with thousands of works scattered about on desks or couches, we had more than our share of famous works from the Tang and Song periods, not to mention those of Yuan and Ming. The eunuchs would hang the paintings, and papers were laid in front of us. Together we sipped tea and savored the dishes granted by imperial grace. We [set about] to determine the genuine from the spurious, study the colophons and inscriptions—Toward the end of our task, roughly around the hour of wei, we listened for the ringing of the great bell in the Qianqing Palace and then departed.39 66 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor It should be mentioned that the staff worked on the catalogs only when they were freed from regular, governmental duties.40 It is through their devotion and diligence that they succeeded in compiling the finest catalogs ever to appear in China. We should not, however, overestimate the staff's abilities in connoisseurship. Although they were the elite of elites in their own time and were well versed in the Classics and literature, their knowledge and experience in art were practically nil. One of them confessed he had never laid eyes on old paintings before he entered the imperial palace.41 For these reasons, the staff was not able to surpass, or improve upon the emperor's connoisseurship. An idea of how the catalogs were compiled can be gathered from the records kept by the compilers. Ruan Yuan, who was associated with the compilation of the Xubian at the time when Qianlong was still alive, wrote on 200 pieces taken from each of the Palace storage quarters.42 In contrast, Hu Jing (1769-1845), who was on the staff of the third and last two-part catalog, the Sanbian, compiled after Qianlong's death, was assigned works from only a limited number of such storage areas. Hu Jing's diary, in particular, provides details of the actual process of compilation.43 He worked on the catalog from the first day of the fourth month to that of the tenth month in 1815. Granted only 17 days of vacation, he worked 166 days in the palace and spent ten days intensively checking the names and seals of the painters. He was assigned 200 works: 30 pieces of calligraphy and 170 paintings. He studied two to three pieces per day from 8 a.m. until 4 p.m. These two hundred pieces constituted only one tenth of the total number of the works included in the Sanbian. After he had finished his assignment, Hu Jing and his colleagues made a copy of their draft manuscripts, checking them for duplications and adding new material. This took eight months, after which they presented their completed work to the Jiaqing emperor. It is interesting to compare the length of time required to complete each of the three catalogs:44 Catalog Works Included Time Required Date Completed 271 6 months 1744 Shiqu Baoji 1,774 20 months 1745 Bidian Zhulin Xubian Shiqu Xubian 238 1,575 25 months 1793 16 months 1816 Bidian Zhulin Bidian Zhulin Sanbian Shiqu Baoji Sanbian 66 1,704 The Emperor's Connoisseurship 67 From the chart, one may observe that the total number of paintings included in the Xubian is close to that in the Chubian, that is, Bidian Zhulin and Shiqu Baoji combined. They also took about the same amount of time to complete, roughly between 25 and 26 months. However, a telling point is that, in the Chubian of both the Bidian Zhulin and Shiqu Baoji, the colophons and seals of 1,316 second-class pieces are not transcribed; whereas the Xubian presents all such materials without fail. It may also be of interest to note that, while the number of entries in the Sanbian is only 43 pieces short when compared to its predecessor, the Xubian, the staff spent nine months less in completing the task. In part, the compilation of the Sanbian required less time because Qianlong was not around to interfere with the working of the staff. Back in 1784, for example, the emperor noted at the end of a painting by Wu Daozi (active 710-760) that 'we spent three years in identifying this scroll!45 Such comments are commonly found in the Xubian, testifying to the extended time frame. IV We can trace the final development of Qianlong's skills in connoisseurship through the last decade of his reign. From 1785 to 1793, about ten handscrolls were thoroughly examined by the staff.46 The long colophons added to these paintings indicate that the staff worked together under the supervision of the emperor, that their reports were the result of teamwork, and that the method of investigation was based upon intensive textual research. In a number of cases, the investigation took several months to complete. In all ten, attributions were altered and titles changed. Among the ten handscrolls examined between 1785 and 1793, five can be identified today. The first is a handscroll by Yan Liben (d. 674) in the Fujii Yurinkan in Kyoto.47 The earliest in a succession of titles for this work was Generals and Ministers of Successive Dynasties. Jiang Pu (1708-1761), who had acquired this piece, decided to change it to Sages in Ancient Times after having identified the costumes and caps as those of pre-Han vintage. Then the staff re-examined the costumes, concluded that they were of the Zhou Dynasty and changed the label to Disciples of Confucius. They also declared that this work might be a draft for a wall painting in the imperial palace of the seventh century. It is difficult enough to accept this identification. But it is even more difficult to understand why the staff never considered the question of 68 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor whether this painting was executed during the Tang period. Without a concrete idea or standard for Tang painting in general, they were eager to accept such attributions. The second example is in the Liaoning Museum. The former label for this work attributed to Gu Kaizhi was A Parade in the Yin Dynasty.48 The new identity the staff gave to it was The Emperor's Procession by painters of the Southern Song academy.49 In this example, too, the staff was unable to perceive the painting's weakness in execution, nor did they understand the Song Academy style. The third example is Zhao Yu's Pacification of the Barbarians South of Luzhou in the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas City (Figure 3). The colophon, which the staff dedicated to the emperor, is a fine piece of research, as carefully and thoroughly composed as essays in philological and textual exegesis written by contemporary Qing scholars. But in the emperor's own inscription concerning the fifth scene, which depicts Zhao Yu chasing his enemies by using wild monkeys with torches tied to their backs, he states: [Zhao Yu's tactic] was derived from Tian Dan, who used flaming oxen attack his enemy]. Here it is entirely inappropriate... The oxen are among six varieties of domestic animals... but wild animals [such as the monkeys] beyond man's control... This story about flaming monkeys verges upon ludicrous.50 [to the are the Here again we see the emperor's point of view and his peculiar logic, even though his retainers were truly convinced by His Majesty's wisdom. He viewed painting as a form of historical documentation, rather than as an object of art. His approach was quite scholarly in nature, but he remained an amateur at heart. Herein lies the limitation of the Qianlong emperor's connoisseurship. The fourth example is Zhao Kui's (1186-1266) handscroll in the Shanghai Museum. The title was changed from Summering in a Bamboo Forest to Scenes After Du Fu's Poem (Figure 4). The emperor wrote on this scroll that its brushwork was 'between that of Li and Dong!51 'Dong' must have been Dong Yuan (active 937-975), but one wonders whom he meant by 'Li: Was it Li Cheng (919-967), Li Tang (c. 1050 - after 1130) or Li Song (active 1190-1230)? Even if we could identify this 'Li; it is not possible to imagine a style of brushwork 'between that of Dong Yuan and Li; that is, between an artist of the Southern School and one of the Northern School. Such confusion or mistakes occurred often in his inscriptions. The Emperor's Connoisseurship 69 Figure 3. Anonymous, Zhao Yu's Pacification of the Barbarians South of Luzhou, detail. The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas City, Missouri (Nelson Fund). Another example of the Qianlong emperor's flawed perception in connoisseurship is found in his comments on Zhao Mengfu's Lezhi Lun ('Essay on the Enjoyment of Life'): Painting and Calligraphy. He wrote: Upon examining the brush and ink, one finds that, while detailed, it reveals a state of elegance and sophistication. I suspect that it is done in the style of Zhao Boju and Zhao Lingrang. No other painter could paint in this way.52 The inability to distinguish the styles of Zhao Mengfu, Zhao Boju and Zhao Lingrang (active 1070-1100) reflects a serious gap in the emperor's knowledge of the history of Chinese painting. A final example is a lost handscroll by Zhao Gan (active second half of tenth century) entitled Literary Gathering in a Mountain Hall which is the 70 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 4. Zhao Kui, Scenes after Du Fu's Poem, detail. Shanghai Museum of Art. last piece among the ten scrolls examined by the staff in 1793, towards the end of the Qianlong reign. Six staff members presented their reports on this scroll: [In this painting], one person sits there, looking from the mountain dwelling. In contrast to the theme of the literary gathering, there are neither reception halls nor visitors. Instead, this painting resembles the work of Wang Fu. Those who composed poems [on the painting] are monks. At the end of the scroll, however, a signature of Ning is coupled with the seal, Yongchunhou zhang ['Seal of Marquise of Yongchun'). Lian Bu's colophon states that he was a relative by marriage of Li Yu [emperor of Southern Tang]. We therefore attempted to verify this by checking [various sources]... and found that Li Yu did not have an in-law with that title. On checking the biographies of princesses in the Mingshi ['Ming History'], it was found that Princess Huaiqing, daughter of Emperor Taizu, however, was married to Wang Ning.. .who was given the title of Marquis of Yongchun... The painting therefore is a genuine The Emperor's Connoisseurship 71 work of the early Ming period. His Majesty at a glance was able to perceive these problems intuitively, whereas we spent several months working together to trace the sources and follow the leads before we could determine its authenticity. While admiring His perspicacity, we are ashamed of ourselves.53 The officials on the staff were pleased to perform their duties and answer the emperor's questions. Although they believed that they had attained a perfect understanding of the paintings in the imperial collection, many problems remain unsolved.54 The five paintings referred to above, in which the old labels were replaced with new ones, are all handscrolls.55 More than the hanging scroll or album, this format easily lends itself for the addition and preservation of long colophons, valued so highly by the emperor and his staff. In their research on a painting, the staff relied upon written documentation, particularly the attached colophons. Just as they valued the subject of a painting more than the form, they also regarded the colophons on a painting as more informative than the painting itself. This leaves the question of why the emperor adopted his particular approach: why did he shift his connoisseurship from style into the literary and scholastic arena? Indeed, after he ascended the throne, Qianlong's life was full of rituals in which literary composition assumed a significant part. Imperial birthdays, ceremonies marking the change of the seasons,56 celebrations for victory in battles57 and banquets all became occasions for the composition of poems and eulogies, a part of which are still easily noticed nowadays in numerous calligraphies on the tablets in the Palace of Beijing. His reign too was characterized by encyclopedic publications such as the Siku Quanshu and the building of libraries.58 Such projects certainly encouraged his belief in the importance of literary and historical documentation.59 Indeed, they date from about the same time that the emperor established his own style of scholarly connoisseurship. There were several other reasons, but none as paramount as his position as an emperor. He had wondered often whether or not he had neglected government for the love of art. At least, he had to pretend to be troubled with such thoughts. In the Preface to the Xubian, he confessed that it was 72 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor perhaps less than desirable for a ruler to spend time in collecting calligraphy and painting, and that the purpose of the catalogs was but to 'record my errors and to give warning to my descendants!60 This represents the final assessment given by its owner to the largest collection of Chinese painting ever to appear in the world.61 These regrets were often expressed in his colophons.62 The scholarly investigation of texts was perhaps helpful in saving him from such troubling thoughts. Later in life, on the occasion of his birthdays, ceremonies, banquets and celebrations, he began to distribute his collection to his children and his retainers in order to keep the number of paintings in his second catalog from surpassing those in the previous compilations.63 Thus it comes to pass that the number of paintings in each of the catalogs is roughly the same, between 1,500 and 1,800 items. The Qianlong emperor's weakness in connoisseurship arose not only from his over-reliance on texts and documents; he was also deficient in his taste. Once he fell in love with a painting, he filled its empty spaces with numerous inscriptions, such as in the Ziming version of the Fuchun Scroll and he was fond of such grotesque pieces as Dong Qichang's The Thatched Cottage of Wanluan.64 He thought extremely highly of Tribute, a so-called Tang painting,65 and was so fond of Gong Kai's (1222-1307) Wretched Horse66 that he took it with him on his trips. He copied Liang Kai's (active early thirteenth century) Immortal and gave the copy to a retainer.67 The emperor thought most highly of figure paintings whose subjects came from old texts. On the Eight Noble Officials by Chen Hong (active eighth century) in the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, his staff wrote: .. .The Ancients esteemed portraiture because such works were closely integrated with historical events. Both in turn are related to politics and knowledge.68 But the emperor had very little interest in orthodox painting subjects. For example, in one instance he stated, 'it is not that the Four Great Masters of the Yuan were lacking in the rules of painting, but in the end their works are only landscapes!69 Here lies the essential reason why Qianlong did not become a great connoisseur. He was unable to view orthodox and important paintings with an unbiased attitude and his taste was too partisan for him to-judge more than a narrow range of paintings. The Emperor's Connoisseurship 73 VI The Sanbian was compiled under the direction of the Emperor Jiaqing (r. 1796-1820) after Qianlong had died. He was so dedicated to preserving his father's inheritance that he forbad the staff from returning to their original jobs until they had finished the catalog.70 So it came to be that all of the edicts relating to the Sanbian were recorded in Jiaqing's formal daily record (Shilu). By contrast, of all the Qianlong's edicts for his catalogs, only two were recorded: the appointment of his five younger staff members,71 and the order to make copies of Shiqu Baoji Xubian and how they were to be distributed. In actuality there had to be at least six more edicts for the three Qianlong catalogs, one each for the beginning as well as the end. However, even though these edicts were announced, they were not formally recorded as they were in the case of the Sanbian. This suggests that Qianlong did not intend to further publicize his collection, and that he wished to avoid being criticized for having spent too much time and effort on it. After the emperor retired at the age of 86, the staff members of the Xubian soon collected the 50,000 poems and 7,000 essays he had written during the course of his long reign. Three years later, soon after they finished it, the emperor died. The staff officials supervised the funeral ceremony and began the compilation of his Shilu. Before it could be completed, however, they too passed away. The history of the compilation of the imperial catalogs reveals an impressive depth of human relationships. The emperor and his staff worked together for thirty years, with the staff devoting their lives to the imperial service and the emperor trusting and admiring the scholarship of the members of his staff in their research of his collection. Together they produced some of the finest scholarship in this imperial age. An Overview of Stylistic Development in the Qianlong Painting Academy She Cheng The special governmental institution of the painting academy in China stimulated the practice of painting during her imperial past. Within the long history of painting academies, that of the Qing dynasty is among the better known; and within the Qing, that of the Qianlong period is the most outstanding. The painting academy of the Qianlong period was extraordinary in all aspects, including organization, scale and talent. The painters were employed for numerous types of work, and they have left us with a massive corpus for study. A large number of the paintings are now in the National Palace Museum, Taipei, and upon them this preliminary probe into their stylistic changes is based. Pertaining to the paintings done in the Qianlong academy, the Taipei collection comprises as many as seven different categories: paintings for aesthetic appreciation, paintings for wall decoration, miniatures for duobaoge ('treasure chests'), painted caskets or boxes, ceramics with overglazed enamel, paintings on folding fans, and sketches and prints. In terms of quantity and quality, the first two categories, including those which were stripped from walls and remounted as scrolls and albums, are unsurpassed. There are 4,099 paintings in the Museum collection, with each album figured as a unit and not counting the individual leaves; of these 1,598, or roughly 39 percent, are Qing works. Of the Qing works, 1,083, or 68 percent, are paintings done in the academy. Of the last, a full 90 percent, or 975 works, are of the Qianlong period. Again, this figure does not include paintings on porcelain, folding fans, or any other decorative arts. Varied in content and covering the entire sixty years of the Qianlong reign, these 975 paintings provide us with a rare opportunity to examine in detail the development within the academy while highlighting the Emperor's role as its leader. A broad overview suggests three stages of development. The Qianlong Painting Academy 75 I The first stage lasted from 1736, the beginning of the Qianlong reign, to until 1751. The emperor was only a youthful 25 when he ascended the throne. Eager to rule and to glorify his rule, he seized on the art of painting as a tool for such glorification. Moreover, Qianlong by nature was fond of painting and calligraphy and his taste was a compelling factor to favor styles that were rich, ornate and finely detailed. Fortunately, there were several older painters in the academy whose styles coincided with the imperial taste, such as Tangdai, Jiang Tingxi, Zhang Pengchong, Zou Yigui, Leng Mei and Lang Shining. There were newer talents as well, including Yu Xing, Dong Bangda, Li Shizhuo, Zhang Ruo'ai and Ding Guanpeng. Their subject matters are varied and rich, with individual preferences and specialization. Landscape Painting Landscape in this stage clearly divides itself into two camps. One camp is the purely academic style, with Tangdai as its representative. Tangdai, whose art developed from that of Wang Yuanqi, but also added a touch of Fan Kuan's, created a style which was revolutionary in merging the Northern and Southern schools of painting. His Guiyin Tu ('The Retiring Gentleman') (Figure 1) is a good example. The composition is tightly controlled, and the forms clearly outlined. Texture strokes are fine and dense and the overall effect is strong and heroic. To the extent that his painting is sufficiently different from the past, it earned for him the favor of Emperor Kangxi, who honored him with the title of hua zhuangyuan ('The Champion among Painters'). Qianlong followed suit, praising Tangdai's paintings in his inscriptions. Another artist who bridged the reigns from Kangxi to Qianlong is Lang Shining. Lang, or Giuseppe Castiglione, was an Italian who combined traditional Chinese techniques with Western perspective and chiaroscuro. His painting, Landscapepresents not only a convincing portrayal of depth, but a strong sense of tactility as well. These two painters were extremely influential in the Qianlong academy. Consequently, artists w h o imitated their styles were numerous, and included Chen Mei in Farming and Silk-Production,2 Chen Shixing in his pictorial counterpart to Qianlong's calligraphic rendition of Fan Chengda's poem,3 Shen Yuan in his Ice-skating Festival,4 not to mention the landscapes of such artists as Leng Mei, Jin Kun, Sun Hu, Lu Zhan, Cheng Zhidao and Jin Jie. 76 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 1. Tangdai, The Retiring Gentleman, dated 1731. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. The Qianlong Painting Academy 77 The other camp consists of a group of scholar-painters who served at the court: Zhang Pengchong, Li Zongwan, Dong Bangda, Jiang Pu, Li Shizhuo, Zhu Lunhan and Zhang Ruo'ai. Though officials first, these talented men were often called upon by Qianlong to paint, occasioned either by imperial visits to various scenic sites or by his poetic attempts. Due largely to their literary accomplishment and official position, their paintings naturally differ from those of the academy artists. For example, they tended to follow the Four Wangs of the Early Qing, and beyond them, the Four Masters of the Yuan, Dong Yuan and Juran. Their paintings also adhere to the established styles of literati painting, stressing the quality and flavor of brush and ink rather than superficial beauty and detailed treatment; many of their works are in ink only. Finally, the scholar painters sought after lyrical sentiments: they tried to express the mood beyond the immediate and the apparent. For these reasons, the paintings of these men are deeply imbued with an affective aura, as in the evocation of seasonal clarity and stillness in Zhang Pengchong's Blue Peaks in Autumn5 or the sense of cold and desolation in Li Zongwan's Summer Clouds and Strange Peaks: After Wang Meng6 and Zhu Lunhan's album of finger paintings in response to imperial poems.7 Another notable work is Dong Bangda's After Du Fu's Poem (Figure 2), which was inspired by the lines: The setting sun and the shimmering waves Reflected light upon the rocky cliff; Clouds returned to embrace the forest, The villages disappearing. Insomuch as the Emperor was fond of this painting and never grew tired of looking at it, Dong Bangda painted this theme a number of times. Flower Painting The coloristic, 'boneless' style of flower painting gained currency in the painting academy once Emperor Kangxi found favor with the works of Yun Shouping, introduced to the court by Jiang Tingxi. In the Qianlong period, Yun was highly respected by Zou Yigui, who wrote in his treatise, Xiaoshan Huapu, that the early Qing master was capable of 'imparting [to his flower painting] a sense of aliveness and rendering fully the wonder of Nature' and that his works were 'unprecedented and unrivalled:8 Other than a small number of ink 'bird and flower' paintings after Yuan and Ming styles, such as Zhang Ruo'ai's Birds, Pine and Bamboo,9 or works combining 'bird and flower' and landscape, like Dai Hong's Flower Buds by the Water,10 the 'boneless' style dominated the painting academy. Representative works are Zou Yigui's Spring Flowers11 78 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor $ £ t * * « * * t * * \ if * * i $ £ * ^ * # # ^ i ^ * as 5 ? * 5 J * ** « ji** if* I ^ &fc^ ft 6 f * ii i % &ftt ^ Figure 2. Dong Bangda, A/ter Du Fu's Poem. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. The Qianlong Painting Academy 79 Figure 3. Lang Shining (Giuseppe Castiglione), Machang Attacking the Enemy, detail. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. and Yu Xing's Album of Flowers.12 Exquisite and refined, these works extend beyond Yun's rich and luxuriant style. The inclusion of the Western method of modelling in light and shade illuminates further the threedimensionality of the flowers and enlivens the subject with convincing details and a sense of aliveness. Of course, there is also the pure Western mode of Lang Shining, which may be considered as yet another trend in the context of this genre. Figure Painting Infinitely rich and varied, figure painting is where the painting academy excelled. A number of styles developed. The first is the Western style, with Lang Shining as its leader. To the extent that he employed the modelling and shading technique of Western painting, the results were extremely life-like. For this reason, he won the praise of Qianlong. Indeed, practically everyone associated with the court, from the emperor and his consorts down to the officials, were the subjects of his portraiture, a typical example of which is Machang Attacking the Enemy (Figure 3). The same approach characterizes Lang's depiction of animals, such as dogs, horses, and other rare and unusual birds and beasts. 80 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor The second style of figure painting combined the Chinese and Western, employing both brushstrokes and modelling. It had emerged at the end of the Ming dynasty, led by Zeng Jing and others. It became popular in the court academy in early Qing and reached its apex during the Qianlong reign. This style of painting can be further divided into two groups. One group stressed heavy pigments over brush and ink, as exemplified in Leng Mei's Viewing the Moon,13 Chen Mei's Farming and Silk-Production album14 and especially in Ding Guanpeng's Spring Market in Time of Peace (Figure 4) and his rendering of Manjusri,15 Paintings such as these may have taken seven months or more to complete, with exquisite details and rich coloring. Another group stressed the bone structure, or brushstrokes, over color. Hedazi's album of historical beauties,16 Ding Yu's album entitled Forever Young17 and especially Yao Wenhan's Selling Drinks,™ are typical examples. The brushstrokes are tense and strong, the color light and tinted, and the overall effect classical. Besides landscape, flower and figure, another special area of painting that demands attention is architectural painting, or 'boundary painting: By resorting to the Western technique of perspective, an extremely convincing degree of depth could be attained. Commonly seen in architectural renderings amidst a landscape setting, it is especially prevalent in works of collaborative nature, in which were pooled together the talents of many artists. Outstanding works are Spring Dawn at the Han Palace (Figure 5), painted by Jin Kun, Lu Zhan, Cheng Zhidao and Wu Gui; The New Feng City,19 painted by Tangdai, Sun Hu, Shen Yuan, Zhou Kun and Ding Guanpeng; and Ceremonial Silk-reeling,20 by Lang Shining, Jin Kun, Wu Gui, Cao Shude, Lu Zhan, Chen Yongjie, Cheng Liang, Li Huilin and Ding Guanpeng. These are complex paintings that often took two to three years to complete, and are a unique feature of the period. In summary, paintings done in the academy during this initial period of Qianlong were rich in subject matter and style, with alluring colors and succinct brush strokes and ink passages. It was a great beginning for the new reign. II The second stage of development lasted from 1752 to 1775. Change in personnel is the major reason that accounts for the change in style, or styles, during this period. In addition, as Emperor Qianlong entered his forties, his taste in painting turned toward the realm of ideas ('yijing'). While some of the older painters survived, including Lang Shining, Zou The Qianlong Painting Academy 81 Yigui, Dong Bangda, Yu Xing, Li Shizhuo, Zhang Tingyan and Ding Guanpeng, recruitment of new talents, such as Zhang Zongcang and Jin Tingbiao, made the critical difference. Landscape Painting In 1751 Qianlong made a tour of the South and was presented with paintings by Zhang Zongcang, who was then given a place in the academy. Zhang's entrance on the scene gave landscape painting a new thrust. A pure landscapist, Zhang Zongcang derived his style from Huang Ding and ultimately from Wang Yuanqi. As can be observed from his painting, View ofMt Lingyan (Figure 6), his art is closely aligned with Wang's, in form and in spirit. He also reveals a fondness for describing mountain and rock forms with alternating dry and wet cun strokes and for controlled ink tones. Overall the landscape form displays a textured and tempered richness, and is as exalted as it is unique. In short, Zhang was able to sweep away the saccharin-sweetness that had permeated the academy, while finding personal favor with the emperor. The latter had embarked on a study of the Yuan masters such as Ni Zan and Huang Gongwang, the very backbone of Wang Yuanqi's, and by extension, Zhang Zongcang's art. In theory too, Zhang's repeated emphasis on the role of spirit consonance, or qiyun, agreed with Qianlong's idea thus gaining the latter's respect. Zhang was active at the Qianlong court for five years, and his works are numerous. The majority of them received Qianlong's inscriptions, lauding the painter's accomplishment. The following is typical: Others paint through rules; Zongcang's painting personifies reason. Peerless, so it seems, among the modern, He is perhaps a match for the ancients. Huang the Fool, and Ni the Aloof: Out from these two, The divine marrow he drew.21 Zhang's art had a profound influence on the academy after he passed away. A number of painters followed his style, the most notable being Fang Cong and Wang Bing. A comparison between Fang's Clearing Snow in Bamboo Grove22 and Wang's View of the Tianping Mountains23 is a study in contrast: the former massive and awesome, and the latter refined and moistened. Each captured a facet of Zhang's art. In general, however, Fang Cong's painting bears a closer resemblance to that of the master, and Qianlong, while fond of both men's art, was partial toward Fang's. 82 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 4. Ding Guanpeng, Spring Market in Time of Peace, detail. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. The Qianlong Painting Academy Figure 5. Jin Kun, Lu Zhan, Cheng Zhidao and Wu Gui, Spring Dawn at the Han Palace, dated 1738, detail. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. 83 84 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor J^ * X' L i J" I i i , A** * it**? t -r 1> * * « 1 ,» ' -r^M. « JA Figure 6. Zhang Zongcang, V/nv o/Aff Lingyan. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. Another artist active at this time whose art shared the laurels with Zhang Zongcang was Qian Weicheng. Qian's Panoramic View ofMt Qixia24 closely resembles Zhang's View of the Mt Lingyan (Figure 6), and can be considered as one of the finest examples of rendering from real sceneries at that time. The Qianlong Painting Academy 85 Figure 7. Jin Tingbiao, The Duet of Immortal Flutes. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. A new style of painting was introduced to the academy with the entrance of Jin Tingbiao (after 1762). Jin excelled in both landscape and figure painting. His landscapes combine elements from the Southern Song academy and the Zhe school, but especially prominent is influence from Tang Yin's art. In his The Duet of Immortal Flutes (Figure 7), a fine network of small axe-cut cun helps to build up the composition. Other works normally show abbreviated and animated brush strokes, with light colors added later. In terms of clarity and succinctness of tone, they stand at the opposite pole of Zhang Zongcang, who is known chiefly for his sombre resonance. Jin died in 1768, but due to imperial favor, his art found currency within the academy. The many followers of his style included Jia Quan, whose Odes to the Plum Blossoms25 is a fine example of a disciple's work. 86 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 8. Jin Tingbiao, Children at Play. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. Figure Painting Because the aging Lang Shining and Ding Guanpeng were still active during this period, the approach to figure painting that combined East and West remained popular. One representative work is Xie Sui's Foreign Tributaries.26 Outside of this, the most notable achievement in figure painting came from the hand of Jin Tingbiao. Like his landscapes, Jin's figure painting shares the same traits of being immaculate and untrammelled. He used the trembling and angular brush strokes to create figures in a simple and abbreviated mode, while instilling in them a sense of vitality and liveliness. His subjects, like Children at Play (Figure 8) , were carefully chosen for their expressive potential, and his paintings consistently earned the praise from Qianlong, who said of him: It's not hard to paint, But hard to capture the spirit. Be it fine or coarse style, [He] rises above the ordinary. Ttuly, he is without compare 27 The Qianlong Painting Academy 87 .'jjlWgl Figure 9. Qian Weicheng, Chrysanthemums. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. Flower and Bird In 'flower and bird' painting, the style that combined the boneless technique, life-drawing, with the Western modelling by means of light and dark, continued to dominate the academy. Moreover, it pushed skill and refinement to a degree hitherto unknown. Qian Weicheng's Chrysanthemums (Figure 9) is an excellent example of such artistry where the petals and leaves multiply and overlap, reaching the ultimate in sensuousness. Another example is Li Bingde's Album of Flowers, Fruits, Fishes and Birds: After Zhang Wei.2S In summary, Qianlong's academy took a large step toward maturation in this second period, the result of technical and conceptual advances. The Emperor's love for Jin Tingbiao's landscape and figure paintings was such that he chose Jin, in place of Lang Shining, to use the traditional technique and style associated w i t h Li Gonglin to paint The Eight Horses. This portended, within the academy, the gradual decline of the trend favoring East and West synthesis and the gradual awakening of a movement toward archaistic revival. At the same time, a concurrent tendency toward simplification was also observable in a number of paintings done during this phase. 88 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor III The third stage lasted from 1776 to 1795. It seems that, once he entered his sixties, Emperor Qianlong shifted his interest from painting to jade, ceramics and carved objects. Though he continued to pursue connoisseurship in painting, he was markedly less devoted than in the past. By a natural process, the great heights of achievement reached by the academy in the previous periods faded from sight, and a state of decline set in. Although a large number of painters were still being employed in the academy, and all categories of paintings were still being practiced, the resultant paintings tended toward formalization, their content devoid of interest, the brushwork standardized and the size of the paintings increasingly small. While the artists competed in the album format, this work could no longer compare with the breadth and grandeur of the previous phases. Landscape Painting In landscape painting, works which received imperial favor show an excess of refinement while lacking in force. Such is the case with Dong Gao's Illustration to Imperial Poem: 'After the Snow Fall' (Figure 10); Guan Huai's Landscape in Snow,29 Hu Gui's album, Autumn Scenes™; Feng Ning's album, Landscape of Four Seasons,31 and other works of the period. Moreover, it is evident that the stylistic affiliation has turned away from Wang Yuanqi and Wang Meng to Wang Hui. Flower and Bird It can be observed that, in flower paintings by artists such as Dong Gao,32 Wang Chengpei,33 and Cheng Lin,34 the boneless technique, while still being practiced, has lost that exquisite touch. In bird and animal painting, He Chingtai, or Louis de Poirot,35 could still carry on the legacy of Lang Shining with a degree of success. Moreover, Yang Dazhang's White Hawk shows how a traditional composition could be used on an equally traditional theme but with new results (Figure 11). Other works, such as Zhang Kai's The Potted Osmanthus36 and Shen Shijie's Lotuses,37 show the pursuit of realism to an extreme degree, resulting however in a loss of emotive power. Figure Painting Figure painting was particularly weak, with no one to replace the great masters of the first two stages. One group pursued traditional styles and themes, as exemplified by Men Yingzhao's album illustrating Lisao (Figure 12) as supplement to Xiao Yuncong's rendition of the same theme, and Li Ming's The Six Worthies of the Bamboo Stream38 after Jin Tingbiao. The Qianlong Painting Academy Figure 10. Dong Gao, Illustrations to the Imperial Poem: 'After the Snow Fall', dated 1774. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. 89 Figure 11. Yang Dazhang, White Hawk. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. Figure 12. Meng Yinzhao, Album Illustrating the Lisao, detail. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. 90 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Another school favored contemporary subjects, such as Xu Liangbiao's Beauty under Banana Plants.19 Works such as this underscore the character of the age by bringing fashionably adorned beauties into the pictorial sphere. For the viewer, it also brought a new kind of appeal beyond the commonplace. In summary, the painting academy during the Qianlong reign established a new standard for realism in Chinese painting, with a unique style characterized by classical and elegant brushwork. Especially notable was the introduction of Western painting techniques which infused new life into the traditional modes. Unfortunately, this new style of painting came to a halt with the end of the reign, only to be revived in the beginning of the Republic period. If in the past the literati's view toward art contributed toward a negative image of the academy, this should be carefully re-evaluated today. Document and Portrait: the Southern Tour Paintings of Kangxi and Qianlong Maxwell K. Hearn The series of monumental handscrolls that illustrate the Southern Inspection Tours of the Kangxi and Qianlong Emperors are among the grandest and most important court-sponsored paintings of the Qing dynasty. Immense in scale — the Kangxi set measures over 700 feet in length, the Qianlong set, over 470 - and taking more than five years each to complete, the finished paintings, together with several draft scrolls for the Kangxi set, provide important evidence about the working methods of artists employed by the court as well as recording a wealth of detail about imperial paraphernalia, official ceremonies, and daily life; as imperially-sponsored pictorial documents, the paintings not only record historical events, they portray the tastes and reveal the different characters of two of China's most famous monarchs. The Tours and their Representation The Southern Tours of Xuanye (1654-1722), the Kangxi Emperor (r. 1662-1722), were an impressive manifestation of his personal rulership. During his 61-year reign, Kangxi made numerous inspection tours to the north, west and east as well as six tours to the South (Table l).1 In the early part of his reign these tours had the very practical objective of encouraging the loyalty of Han Chinese to their Manchu overlords. The rebellion of Wu Sangui (1612-1678) and the Three Feudatories, which took Qing armies eight years to suppress (1673-1681), forcefully demonstrated how tenuously Manchu control extended across the vast Qing empire.2 Kangxi's first tour of the South in 1684, made just three years after the defeat of the rebel armies in Yunnan, was more like a scouting party than a triumphal procession. He was accompanied by more than 1,000 soldiers and courtiers, and his trip from Beijing to Suzhou, Nanjing and back to 92 Tour I II III IVa IVb V VI Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Year 1684 1689 1699 1702 1703 1705 1707 Reign Age Year (sui) 23rd 28th 38th 31 36 41st 42nd 44th 46th 46 49 50 52 54 Inclusive dates Lunar calendar Days 05 Nov-03 Jan 28 Jan-08 Apr 04 Mar-14 Jun 14 Nov- 09/27-11/29 01/08-03/19 02/03-05/17 09/2501/16-03/14 02/03-05/23 01/22-05/22 60 70 102 03 Mar-2 9 Apr 03 Mar-19 Jun 24 Feb-21 Jun aborted 58 108 117 Table 1: Southern Tours of the Kangxi Emperor (r. 1662-1722) the capital lasted only 60 days. Although his stated reasons for the tour were to inspect river conservation work and inquire after the well-being of the people, Kangxi's most important objectives must have been to gauge the feelings of Southern gentry, to gain their acceptance and enlist their support. Throughout his tour Kangxi made every effort to play the role of a traditional Confucian monarch and as a gesture of reconciliation, he personally offered sacrifices at the tomb of the first Ming emperor in Nanjing. Even so, he was extremely cautious in planning his itinerary, avoiding both Yangzhou and Hangzhou where Manchus had brutally suppressed Ming loyalist resistance forty years earlier. Kangxi's second tour of 1689 established the basic pattern for all subsequent Southern Tours (see Map 1). On each day of travel the emperor covered about 15 miles (25 km) on land or 30 miles (50 km) on water; his entire journey encompassed a distance of roughly 2,000 miles (3,300 km).3 Traversing the entire length of the Grand Canal as well as the overland courier route connecting the Manchu capital to the South, this tour enabled the emperor to inspect the most vital economic and communications arteries of the empire. More importantly, the various functions and ritual ceremonies which Kangxi enacted as well as his very presence among the populace served to confirm his legitimacy and demonstrated his intention to rule his Chinese subjects as a Chinesestyle monarch. All along the route Kangxi enjoyed lavish demonstrations of hospitality in return for which he granted remissions of taxes and grain tribute, made donations to temples and local schools, promoted worthy officials and held audiences with both dignitaries and commoners. In addition, he conducted a ritual to honor the deity of Mt Tai, The Southern Tour Paintings 93 and made a special excursion from Hangzhou to Shaoxing and the Temple of Yu, the legendary tamer of the flood and the founder of the Xia dynasty.4 Kangxi's subsequent four tours varied little from the second tour except that they became ever more lavish and leisurely. He never again repeated his excursion to Shaoxing and in the last two tours he traveled by boat both to and from the capital.5 It was his triumphant second tour of 1689 which Kangxi chose to have commemorated in painting. The route of his journey was condensed into twelve long handscrolls which were collectively titled the Nanxuntu or 'Picture of the Southern Tour! Begun around 1691, the entire project took about seven years to complete; nine of the twelve finished silk paintings and four of the paper drafts are still extant (Table 2).6 The first scroll shows Kangxi's departure from Beijing. It begins at the Yongding Gate, the southern gate of the city, and ends at Nanyuan, a royal hunting park six miles due south of the capital. Scroll II follows the emperor's journey through northern Shandong from Pingyuan to the provincial capital of Ji'nan; scroll III illustrates the emperor's route from Ji'nan to Mt Tai and on to Mengyin. Scroll IV stretches from the Shandong-Jiangsu border to the point where Kangxi crossed the Yellow River (which at this time flowed into the sea south of the Shandong peninsula through Jiangsu Province) and includes the nearby confluence of the Yellow and Huai Rivers. It was at this point that Kangxi and his retinue boarded boats and followed the Grand Canal for the remainder of their southward journey. Scrolls V and VI are missing, but probably feature Yangzhou and the crossing of the Yangtze River. Scroll VII illustrates the journey from Wuxi to Suzhou. Scroll VIII is again missing, but a paper draft for this scroll survives and illustrates the route from Suzhou to Tangqi, a small town located on the grand Canal about fifteen miles (25 km) north of Hangzhou. Scroll IX records the route from the Qiantang River to Shaoxing and the Temple of Yu. Scroll x depicts the first leg of Kangxi's northward return journey from Jurong to Nanjing, including an inspection of troops in the former capital; scroll XI illustrates the emperor's passage from Nanjing down the Yangtze to the island of Jinshan. Scroll XII is u n i q u e in the series in that the direction of travel of the emperor's entourage is contrary to the direction in which the scroll unrolls. The painting begins at the right with the Taihe Hall in the heart of the Forbidden City, and progresses outward along the axial way, showing all of the court and the imperial insignia bearers arrayed on either side of the route between the Meridian Gate (Wumen) and Duan Gate, awaiting Itinerary Dates Distance depicted mi (km) 28 Jan 6(10) Pingyuan to Ji'nan 03-05 Feb 55(90) Ji'nan to MtTai to Mengyin 05-08 Feb 120(200) Shandong-Jiangsu border (Honghuabu) to confluence of the Yellow and Huai Rivers 12-13 Feb Beijing: Yongding Gate to Nan Yuan Collection Length@ (cm) Beijing 1555 Paris 1377 Draft version and dimension (cm) 1393 New York 95 (155) 1562 Paris (Yangzhou?) (Crossing the Yangtze to Zhenjiang?) Wuxi to Suzhou and Tiger Hill 22-23 Feb 30(50) Canada 2195 Nanjing 64.7X2955 Suzhou to Tangqi 24-27 Feb 85 (140) Beijing 1965 Beijing 65.7x 1965 Qiantang River to Shaoxing and Yu Temple 04-05 Mar 36(60) Beijing 2227.5 Jurong to Nanjing; military inspection 16-20 Mar 28 (45) Beijing 2559.5 Beijing 66.1 X2451 Nanjing to Jinshan 21-22 Mar 50 (85) Beijing 2313.5 Shenyang Beijing: Yongding Gate to Hall of Supreme Harmony 08 Apr 3(5) Beijing 2612.5 71 days 508 (840) 19760# @ The width of the scrolls is 67.8 cm. * Scroll VIII survives only in a paper draft version. Its width, 65.7 cm, makes it slightly narrower than the finished silk version. # This is equivalent to 642.19 feet. Assuming that the silk version of Scroll VIII is no shorter than the draft and that Scrolls V and VI each measure at least 1370 cm, the total length of the twelve scrolls would exceed 22,500 cm (more than 730 feet.) Table 2. Kangxi's Second Southern Inspection Tour (1689) The Southern Tour Paintings Map 1. Kangxi's 1689 Southern Tour, illustrated in Wang Hui's Nanxuntu. 95 96 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor the emperor's arrival. Kangxi is shown in the midst of his entourage approaching the Qian Gate in a palanquin. The scroll ends with the Yongding Gate, the same gate with which the first scroll in the series had begun. Just inside the gate is a final tribute to Kangxi: a remarkable rebus-like assemblage of citizens forming the characters tianzi wannian ('Long Live the Emperor').7 The nine scrolls on silk plus the paper draft of the eighth scroll together document about 473 miles (785 km) of the route (see Table 2); the missing scrolls, V and VI, probably add at least 50 more miles (80 km) to this figure. Taking into account that large portions of the emperor's return journey retraced his outward path, the Nanxuntu illustrates nearly one half of the route traversed by the emperor. The Kangxi Nanxuntu documents the route and major events of his trip in amazing detail. The first and the last scrolls, showing the emperor departing from and returning to the capital, are largely devoted to cataloging the pomp and ceremony of court occasions. They are dominated by the imperial entourage and the incredible array of state carriages and insignia bearers called for on such full dress assemblies of the court.8 The ceremonial aspect of official life is also chronicled in the draft of scroll VIII where local magistrates and provincial officers are assembled on either side of the Jiangsu-Zhejiang border to welcome or send off the emperor, reflecting the 1675 statute that all office-holders living within a distance of 100 li of the emperor's route were required to present themselves when he passed.9 Other manifestations of imperial power and legitimacy appear in the tenth scroll where Kangxi is shown reviewing a military exercise in Nanjing, and in the third and ninth scrolls where the emperor is depicted en route to Mt Tai and visiting the Temple of Yu. The emperor's various modes of travel are also recorded: in a palanquin, on horseback, on barge and sail boat, as well as on foot. His temporary palaces include temples, the Silk Commissioner's Residence in Suzhou, and an elaborate complex of Manchu-style tents which were used when no other suitable residence was available. The lavish entertainments provided for the emperor — theatrical performances, banquets and elaborate decorations - are all depicted in great detail. Perhaps even more fascinating, however, is the diversity of local life presented by the scrolls: wood gatherers, fishermen and farmers in rural areas as well as the teeming street life, shops and private residences of city dwellers in the major cultural and commercial centers. The scrolls do not stop with the prosperous and happy; impoverished peasants kneel before the emperor in Shandong, crowds sometimes push and shove and have to be restrained by force, and at a display of Manchu horsemanship in Nanjing, The Southern Tour Paintings 97 a sizable crowd finds diversion in watching one bannerman chase helplessly after his recalcitrant mount. Indeed, for large sections of the Suzhou and Nanjing scrolls, one loses sight of the imperial procession altogether and our attention is completely absorbed in exploring the fascinating richness of city life. Shown in this context, Kangxi emerges as an onlooker as well as the principal actor in the affairs of the empire - not all of which are subject to his control. The Nanxuntu celebrates Kangxi as supreme ruler, but also shows him sharing the stage with an immense cast of characters. The very diversity of these subsidiary actors - beggars, rowdy crowds and a Manchu soldier unable to command his horse - all reflect upon Kangxi's own humanity, tolerance and openness. At the age of seventy-four, the Qianlong Emperor cited two major accomplishments in reflecting on his fifty-year-long reign: one was his ten victorious military campaigns; the other was his Southern Tours.10 This observation suggests how importantly the emperor viewed his travels to the South; yet it was not until he was forty years old (41 sui) that Qianlong made his first Southern Tour. Hongli (1711-1799), who took the throne as the Qianlong Emperor (r. 1736-1795) at the age of 25, ruled for fifteen years in the shadow of the four regents appointed by his father. With the death of Oertai (16801745) and the retirement of Zhang Tingyu (1672-1755) in 1749, however, Qianlong's rulership entered a new phase. No sooner had Zhang Tingyu submitted his petition for retirement than Qianlong initiated plans for his first Southern Tour which began a little over one year later on 8 February 1751.11 By this time, Manchu rule had been established for over 100 years and there was little need to visit the South for reasons of national security. Indeed, Qianlong's father, the Yongzheng Emperor (r. 1721-1735), made no Southern Tours. Qianlong's stated reasons for this and the five other tours he eventually made (Table 3) were to inspect river conservation work and investigate conditions among the people. Other important motivations for the emperor must have been his curiosity about the fabled beauties of the South and his eagerness to emulate his grandfather, the Kangxi Emperor. The route of Qianlong's Southern Tours and their manner of documentation are modeled closely on those of Kangxi and are best understood in light of his ambition to rival or surpass the deeds of his grandfather. 98 Tour I II Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Year 1751 1757 III 1762 IV V VI 1765 1780 1784 Reign Year 16th 22nd 27th 30th 45th 49th Age Inclusive dates Lunar calendar Days 08 Feb-26 Jun 01/13-05/04 55 70 74 05 Feb-09 Jun 16 Feb-11 Jun 11 Feb-10 Jun 01/11-04/26 01/12-05/04 01/16-04/21 139 105 52 28 Feb-12 Jun 05 Feb-27 May (sui) 41 47 01/12-05/09 01/21-04/23 113 124 117 121 Table 3: Southern Tours of the Qianlong Emperor (r. 1736-1795) Qianlong became obsessed with representing himself to posterity as an ideal Confucian ruler or sage-king. Not only did he undertake ambitious military campaigns, immense public works projects and grandiose palace constructions, he documented his every deed through painting, poetry, publications and the erection of stelae to insure that history would judge him to be an exemplary monarch. Although the route of Qianlong's six tours and the ceremonies he enacted closely parallel those of Kangxi (Table 4, Map 2), there is a curious fifteen year hiatus between his fourth tour of 1765 and his fifth tour of 1780.12 One explanation may be that the financial burden of these extravagant pageants may have influenced the emperor to discontinue them.13 It was only in his later years, after Qianlong fell under the influence of the sycophant Heshen (1750-1799), that he made a fifth tour in 1780 - on his seventieth birthday (70 sui) - and a sixth tour in 1784, thereby equaling the number made by Kangxi.14 That Qianlong originally intended his 1765 tour to be his last is suggested by his commission of a grandiose publication, the Nanxun Shengdian ('Magnificent Record of the Southern Tours'), to commemorate his first four Southern Tours.15 Published in 1771, the year after Qianlong's sixtieth birthday (he was 60 sui in 1770), it is a massive work of 6,700 pages divided into 120 chapters {juan). Although Kangxi never published a formal record of his Southern Tours, Qianlong's Nanxun Shengdian is clearly based on a similar Kangxi era publication, the Wanshou Shengdian ('Magnificent Record of Longevity'), which was compiled to commemorate Kangxi's sixtieth birthday celebration and which is also 120 chapters (juan) in length. Both works include extensive woodblock illustrations. The Wanshou Shengdian illustrates the birthday procession of the Kangxi Emperor from the Changchun Palace to the Forbidden City, taking as a model the Wanshoutu ('Painting in Celebration of Longevity'), the nearly The Southern Tour Paintings 99 300-foot-long painting created for the occasion under the supervision of Wang Yuanqi (1642 -1715).16 The Qianlong Nanxun Shengdian is copiously illustrated with diagrams and pictures concerning river conservation, sea walls, military formations and scenic spots as well as a map of the route that covers seventy-five double-pages. The more than 150 scenic spots illustrated in the publication are based on paintings executed by Qian Weicheng (1720-1772).17 Like Kangxi, Qianlong also commissioned a twelve-scroll painting of one of his Southern Tours.18 Whereas Kangxi commissioned the illustration of his 1689 tour less than two years after the trip's conclusion, Qianlong waited nearly fifteen years to commission a similar set of scrolls illustrating his first tour. The Qianlong Nanxuntu was begun in 1764; the finished scrolls were submitted to the throne in the fifth month (25 May - 22 June) of 1770, the year of the emperor's sixtieth birthday celebration.19 Completed only one year before the publication of the Nanxun Shengdian, the Nanxuntu was probably conceived together with that text to form a single, grand commemorative work that directly recalls the Kangxi Wanshoutu and Wanshou Shengdian. In its physical characteristics, the Qianlong Nanxuntu closely resembles the Kangxi series. Both sets are made up of twelve oversize handscrolls. The Kangxi paintings measure nearly 27 inches (67.8 cm) in width and from 45 to 85 feet (1,377 to 2,612.5 cm) in length. The Qianlong paintings are slightly larger - about one centimeter wider - but they are generally not as long, measuring only 30 to 71 feet (915 to 2,172 cm) in length.20 Both sets of scrolls are mounted with patterned brocade wrappers and massive jade clasps. The scrolls of the two sets are further protected by silk brocade cloths and richly decorated lacquer boxes, each inscribed with the title and number of the scroll it contains.21 The Qianlong Nanxuntu further resembles the Kangxi set in its general content, but differs significantly in the length of the route and the quantity of specific details it shows as well as in the greater emphasis it gives to selected sites. Like the Kangxi Nanxuntu, the Qianlong version opens with a depiction of the emperor's departure from Beijing and first day of travel. It begins with the Zhengyang (Qian) Gate and ends with the first temporary place in Liangxiang county. Scroll II focuses on Qianlong's crossing of the old course of the Yellow River and his entrance into Dezhou (see Map 2). Scroll III presents the Qianlong Emperor in Jiangsu Province, crossing the Yellow River by boat while scroll IV illustrates the emperor inspecting the nearby confluence of the Yellow and Huai Rivers. Scroll V shows Qianlong on the Yangtze River traveling between the islands of Jinshan and Jiaoshan; scroll VI illustrates his entrance into Scroll Itinerary Dates Distance Collection Length@ Length Recorded of draft length depicted (cm) of draft* (cm) mi (km) I Beijing: Zhengyang Gate to Liangxiang County 08 Feb 15(25) II Dezhou, Shandong III Crossing the Yellow River IV Confluence of Huai and Yellow Rivers V Crossing the Yangtze from Jinshan to Jiaoshan VI Entering Suzhou from north of Tiger Hill VII Jiangsu-Zhejiang border, approaching Jiaxing VIII Hangzhou and West Lake IX Shaoxing and Temple of Yu X Nanjing; inspection of soldiers XI Confluence of the Yellow and Huai Rivers XII Beijing: Meridian Gate to Duan Gate Total 62.2 - 5(8) Canada 1685.6 1244.5 38.5 - 3(5) Nice 1607.0 1363.1 42.3 — 3(5) New York 1095.0 1106.5 34.3 5(8) Japan 976.0 1083.4 33.4 5(8) 2171.9 67.1 15(25) 949.9 29.5 — 4(7) 1126.4 35.4 — 6(10) Beijing 1050.0 1243.1 38.5 — 1 (1.5) Paris 966.0 915.0 28.3 1239.6 28.5 985.8 30.9 15417.8 468.9 — 3(5) 26 Jun 1/4(0.5) Beijing 139 days 65 1/4 (108) @ The width of the silk version is 68.9 cm; the draft version, 68.3 cm. * 1988.6 Lengths recorded in Shiqu Baoji Xubian in chi and cun. Table 4. Qianlong's First Southern Inspection Tour (1751) 1029.4 The Southern Tour Paintings Map 2. Qianlong's 1751 Southern Tour, illustrated in Xu Yang's Nanxuntu. 101 102 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Suzhou, showing the route from Tiger Hill to the vicinity of the Zhizaofu, the Silk Commissioner's Residence, which served as the emperor's temporary palace. Scroll VII begins with a depiction of the emperor reviewing the officials massed at the Jiangsu-Zhejiang border and ends at the city gate of Jiaxing. Scroll VIII begins at the Yongan Gate of Hangzhou and surveys the scenery of West Lake. Scroll IX illustrates the emperor's visit to Shaoxing and the Temple of Yu; scroll X depicts Qianlong's inspection of troops in Nanjing. Scroll XI returns to the area depicted in scrolls III and IV; it shows Qianlong's resumption of land travel after recrossing the Yellow River at Qinghe. Scroll XII, like the final Kangxi painting, illustrates the emperor's return to Beijing. As in the Kangxi scroll, the direction of travel in this closing scroll is opposite to the direction of unrolling, but a much smaller segment of Beijing appears: the Kangxi scroll shows the axial way from the Taihe Hall to the Yongding Gate, the southernmost gate of the city, the Qianlong scroll opens with the Meridian Gate and closes with the Duan Gate - a distance of several hundred meters - and shows the imperial retinue received by members of the court and the files of imperial insignia bearers. When the contents of the Qianlong set and Kangxi set are compared (see Tables 2 and 4), several discrepancies appear in the choice of sites illustrated. Three segments of the tour route depicted in the Kangxi set do not appear in the Qianlong set: Mt Tai (scroll III), the Yangtze River from Nanjing to Jinshan (scroll XI), and Yangzhou, which is presumably the focus of the missing fifth Kangxi scroll. The Qianlong set focuses greater attention on the emperor's activities around the Yellow River: scrolls III, IV and XI treat this area while scroll II shows the emperor crossing the old course of the Yellow River outside of Dezhou. Even more striking is the enormous difference in the amount of the tour route illustrated by the two sets. Except for the first and last scrolls, which record the departure from and return to Beijing, each scroll in the Kangxi set depicts a 30 to 100 mile (50 to 170 km) segment of the route (see Table 2). The scrolls of the Qianlong set generally depict less than five mile segments of the route and only two scrolls show as much as 15 miles (see Table 4). One reason for this is that each Qianlong scroll was matched to a poem composed by the emperor on his 1751 tour and each painting is inscribed with that poem. Because Qianlong composed hundreds of poems on his tour - all later published in the Nanxun Shengdian - the choice of what segments of the tour to illustrate was not significantly restricted by the need to match illustrations to poems. Since the poems tend to focus on single events or specific sites, the content of each poem did serve as a limiting factor. The Kangxi scrolls also have accom- The Southern Tour Paintings 103 panying texts mounted in front of each painting, however these anonymous prefaces merely describe the sites and events depicted in the paintings and serve only to complement the pictorial record. This difference in approach not only resulted in a much smaller proportion of the actual route being depicted in the Qianlong series, but also transformed the very manner of presentation. The Kangxi scrolls present the emperor's journey as a lengthy and nearly continuous travel narrative; the Qianlong set presents the emperor in a series of monoscenic historical tableaux. The contrasting narrative content and dramatic goals of the two sets are clearest in their divergent treatment of the Yellow River crossing and the confluence of the Huai and Yellow Rivers. During both the Kangxi and Qianlong reigns, the Yellow River flowed into the sea south of the Shandong peninsula through Jiangsu Province. In the Kangxi set, the river crossing and confluence sites appear as the finale and objective of a single scroll that illustrates the emperor's tour route from the town of Honghuapu near the Shandong-Jiangsu border. The importance of both sites is emphasized by the presence of thrones and crowds of expectant onlookers and officials - devices that clearly indicate the emperor's intention to stop there and inspect the river work (Figure 1). But Kangxi is depicted at neither spot. Instead, he appears much earlier, about midway through the scroll, stopping to view the numerous destitute people inhabiting this flood and famine-threatened region, who have come out to thank the emperor for his remission of taxes (Figure le). The presence of these people offers a bit of propaganda showing Kangxi's concern for the masses, but it is also a frank admission of the problems still besetting the empire. The scene is a sobering reminder of the consequences of lax river conservation measures. The challenge of controlling the Yellow River is likewise forcefully conveyed at the crossing point where laborers frantically work to reinforce the dikes directly in front of Kangxi's viewing pavilion. In the Qianlong set, the crossing and confluence scenes are treated in separate scrolls. Scroll III, now in Nice at the Musee des Beaux Arts, presents a grand panorama of the Yellow River. The scroll extends from the northern bank to the point on the southern bank where the imperial barge comes ashore (Figure 2). Over 21 feet of the 52- foot-long painting are devoted to the river and the numerous boats which move across it. The preceding scroll anticipates this crossing and gives some intimation of Qianlong's concern for river conservation by showing the emperor crossing the old course of the Yellow River on a pontoon bridge near the 104 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 1. Wang Hui and assistants, Kangxi Nanxuntu ('Kangxi Southern Tour'), scroll IV, detail. C. 1698. Ink and colors on silk. Collection of the Musee Guimet, Paris (MA 2460). The Southern Tour Paintings I 105 106 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor city of Dezhou. Yet, there is no effort in either scroll to illustrate the roughly 300 miles (500 km) of terrain that separates Dezhou from the Yellow River. Instead, scroll IV focuses on the act of crossing and the sheer magnitude of the river. By drastically limiting the scroll's narrative content, all of the drama is centered on the action of the emperor. Yet, when we finally see Qianlong, his sedate, well-choreographed landing is something of a letdown. Rather than a feat of courage, the crossing looks almost matter-of-fact. In the Kangxi scroll, the tempestuous waters look dangerous (Figure la, b). There is only one boat on the river and the force of the water is emphasized by the roiling waves and the frenetic activity of the men laboring to reinforce the near shore. The perils of crossing are vividly conveyed. In the Qianlong version, the river appears wide but easily navigable: large and small boats move back and forth across its untroubled surface while the emperor, seated calmly in a barge propelled by two lines of oarsmen, rides smoothly towards the Southern shore where kneeling officials prepare to receive their monarch. In scroll IV of the Qianlong series, the Yellow River occupies nearly as prominent a position as it does in scroll III.22 It begins with a view of the north shore only a few miles upstream from where Qianlong made his crossing. Following this is a long passage devoted to the Yellow River. A variety of vessels sail across its muddy waters, recalling the emperor's own recent passage. The confluence of the Huai River, also called the Qinghe or Clear River, is illustrated by the merging of the Huai's blue waters with the silt-laden Yellow. Qianlong stands at the point of confluence, the most critical spot in the Yellow River conservancy system (Figure 3). The single figure kneeling before him almost certainly represents Gao Bin (1683-1755), the regional Director-General of the Grand Canal and Yellow River Conservancy.23 Behind the emperor, the officials and populace of the region reverently kneel in the imperial presence. The scroll ends with a depiction of the well-maintained series of locks or gates channeling water from the Huai into the Grand Canal, stockpiles of lumber and bundles of gaoliang used to repair leaks, orderly files of workers building up an already imposing dike, and finally, the stonefaced Gaojia Levee. All this contrasts dramatically with the frenzied dike work depicted in the Kangxi Nanxuntu.24 From the point of view of propaganda, the Qianlong Nanxuntu pointedly emphasizes the emperor's avowed interest in river conservation. More space in the set is devoted to river-related themes than to any other subject (scrolls ill, IV, V and to a more limited degree II, IX and XI). In the Nanxun Shengdian, too, more space is devoted to this topic (about 900 pages) than to any but the transcription of the emperor's poems and stele The Southern Tour Paintings Figure le. Kangxi silk version, scroll IV, detail. Musee Guimet, Paris. Figure 2. Xu Yang, Qianlong Nanxuntu ('Qianlong Southern Tour'), scroll III, detail. Dated 1770. Ink and colors on silk. Collection of the Musee des Beaux Arts, Nice (C 2498). 107 108 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor texts (about 1,500 pages). Scroll IV, in particular, highlights the key point in the intricate system of canals, holding basins, and dikes perfected during the late sixteenth century by Pan Jixun (1521-1595).25 In the Nanxun Shengdian, this locale is illustrated no fewer than nine times in various maps and diagrams throughout the text - far more than any other site.26 Scroll IV of the Nanxuntu not only accurately records all the river conservation features of this site, it dramatically focuses attention on the figure of the emperor. Extraneous details are eliminated and all action converges on the central point occupied by the emperor.27 To the right, the boats on the river recall Qianlong's recent crossing while the ranks of kneeling officials and scenes of dike building to his left emphasize the emperor's concern for eternal vigilance in maintaining the dikes, a theme touched on in his poem. The river does not appear threatening, there are no beggars or unruly onlookers, and there is no sense of urgency to the river work. Nature and the empire are under control in this painting, exemplifying the idyllic state of datong or 'Great Peace' which Qianlong believed had begun under his reign. In the other Qianlong scrolls the thematic content is also circumscribed and focused. Scroll VI illustrates Qianlong's entrance into Suzhou; scroll Figure 3. Xu Yang, scroll IV, detail. Collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art (1984.16). The Southern Tour Paintings Figure 3. Detail. 109 110 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor VII shows the emperor reviewing officials at the Jiangsu-Zhejiang border; in scroll X he is viewing a military display of horsemanship. Each of these events is treated in the Kangxi scrolls, but only as part of a larger and more complex narrative. In the Kangxi set, the importance of the emperor and his action is read against the immense scale of the empire he ruled; at times, Kangxi and his retinue are dwarfed by the landscape or lost from view in the hubbub of busy city streets. In the scene illustrating his arrival in Suzhou, for example, Kangxi sits inconspicuously in his boat, looking out at the maelstrom of houses, boats and people which converge upon the Chang Gate (Figure 4). In the Qianlong scene of the emperor inspecting the confluence site, Qianlong appears larger than life, the central figure in a setting that magnifies his importance and power. Another explanation for the circumscribed content of the Qianlong scrolls, especially the extraordinary emphasis given to water scenes, is artistic expediency. Scrolls III, IV and V, one-fourth of the scrolls in the set, are dominated by water - certainly a less demanding subject than mountains or cityscapes. By 1764 when this series was begun, the number of court artists had been greatly reduced and there simply may not have been adequate manpower available to complete these paintings without drastically simplifying their pictorial content.28 Figure 4. Kangxi silk version, scroll VII, detail. Private Collection, Canada. The Southern Tour Paintings 111 Authorship, Style and Production The divergent content of the Kangxi and Qianlong Southern Tour paintings immediately raises the question of authorship and style. The Kangxi Nanxuntu was the earliest large-scale painting project sponsored by a Qing emperor. In both subject matter and format these paintings set a precedent that clearly influenced later court productions. But what artistic options were available to Kangxi and his officials when faced with initiating such a project? One possible source of talent was the painters employed within the palace. Among these may have been one or more Western artists. Kangxi was deeply fascinated by the Western sciences introduced by Jesuits working at the Qing court; he may well have gained an early appreciation for Western painting. In 1690, however, there were no Jesuits at court who specialized in painting and Western techniques were probably regarded more as a curiosity than as a viable artistic option. Among the Chinese painters who may have been at work in the palace at this time was Jiao Bingzhen (active c. 1689-1726). Jiao later executed an important series of illustrations on agriculture and sericulture, the Gengzhitu ('Pictures of Tilling and Weaving'), datable to 1696, in which Western techniques of spatial illusion and modelling are actively embraced. But in 1690 Jiao probably had not yet attracted the emperor's attention.29 Professional painters working outside the court provided a wider range of talent and styles to choose from. One center of painting which Kangxi 112 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor undoubtedly became familiar with on his 1689 tour was Yangzhou. Yuan Jiang (active c. 1690 -1725) was just becoming established in Yangzhou by 1689, but probably had not yet achieved a prominent enough reputation to be considered for this undertaking. 30 Kangxi met the individualist painter Daoji (Shitao, 1642-1707) in Nanjing on his 1684 Southern Tour and might have known that Shitao came to Beijing late in 1689, remaining in the capital until the fall of 1692.31 But Daoji's style was hardly suitable for the kind of pictorial documentary required by such a commission and he was probably never seriously considered. In fact, there was only one group of painters whose style was both well established and had great appeal for the scholar-officials in Kangxi's court: the so-called orthodox artists whose paintings transmitted the stylistic principles first set forth by Dong Qichang (1555 -1636). In contrast to the paintings of the individualist masters, among whom the trauma of the Qing conquest was a potent influence, the orthodox style seems to have evolved undisturbed by the political turmoil of dynastic change. Thus, it not only preserved a sense of continuity with the past, but gave Kangxi the opportunity to present himself in harmony with the most revered traditions of scholarly painting. Furthermore, the orthodox painter Wang Hui (1632-1717) was probably the most renown artist of the day.32 Early in 1691, less than two years after the completion of the tour, Wang Hui arrived in Beijing to undertake the execution of this commission. Yet there is no record in the Shilu ('Veritable Records') of either the decision to initiate this project or the process by which Wang Hui was selected. The two high-ranking officials mentioned in connection with the project once it got underway, however, were both from prominent Jiangsu families and both knew Wang Hui personally: Wang Shan (1645-1728), who was later to become a Grand Secretary, was the eighth son of Wang Hui's mentor, Wang Shimin (1592-1680), while Song Junye (d. 1713), who had been in the entourage of the second tour, was an amateur painter and had once had Wang Hui as his teacher. One or both of these men is also mentioned in the biographies of Yang Jin (1644-1728) and Gu Fang (active c. 1690-1720), two pupils of Wang Hui whose participation in the project is suggested by their biographies.33 From Wang Hui's biography it is clear that he had the help of a number of assistants, but that he provided overall direction for the task: From everywhere lofty talents and skilled artists were assembled in the capital. All mixed ink, moistened their brushtips, spread out the silk, looked at each other and racked their brains not daring to start painting and waiting for Mr The Southern Tour Paintings 113 Wang to speak. The master, dressed in hermit's garb, sat on a dais and assumed leadership. He stared straight ahead, concentrated for a long time, and finally started composition and execution, saying: Here we place towns, there we place mountains and rivers, here people are waiting for the imperial traveler, the entourage looks like this, imperial resting places like that, and here is the emperor himself in procession. Mr Wang led the work, painted here and there over the whole stretch of varied landscapes until the whole work was ready The artists followed his directions, and now and again Mr Wang added some strokes of extraordinary beauty. When the pictures were finished they were shown to the emperor.34 How accurately does the above account reflect the actual working conditions under which the Southern Tour scrolls were created? The finished paintings bear no artist's signature, seals, or other identifying information. Like imperial portraits, the set is not only without signature, but was apparently stored in a separate archive apart from the imperial painting collection and was therefore never recorded in the imperial painting catalog, Shiqu Baoji. There is, however, a painting entitled Nanxuntu recorded in that catalog as the work of Song Junye.35 A student of Wang Hui and a member of the second tour's entourage, Song may well have contributed preliminary sketches based on his firsthand observations. In the absence of a clearly defined imperial painting academy, Song apparently functioned as a bureaucratic intermediary between the throne and the artists. Is it possible that Song also took a hand in the production of the scrolls? And how much of the final paintings is actually the work of Wang Hui? The four surviving draft scrolls for the Kangxi Southern Tour (see Table 2) shed important light on the authorship and process of creation of the finished paintings. The link between the twelve-scroll Southern Tour and Song Junye is specifically recorded in a colophon to the draft version of the Kangxi scroll VII by a descendant of the artist named Song Xiang (1748-1862).36 The colophon, which is dated 31 March 1828, may be translated as follows: The former official [Song] Junye was summoned to attend the emperor in the Southern Library (Nanshufang) in the gengwu year of Kangxi (1690). There he respectfully received the command to paint the Nanxun Shengdian. Consequently, he invited Wang Shigu (Wang Hui) and other famous masters to gather in the capital where they resided, deliberated, and laid out [their work] until the yihai year (1695) when he announced the completion of altogether twelve handscrolls [depicting the route] from the capital to Zhejiang. When they submitted their work for imperial inspection they received the emperor's 114 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor praise and the scrolls entered the Shiqu [Baoji] (imperial collection). The twelve draft scrolls entered our family collection, but later generations divided them up so that, before long, they were all scattered. In my spare time I entertained the notion of searching out [these drafts], but I only found one scroll [depicting the route from] Wuxi to Suzhou plus three miscellaneous pieces which I carefully mounted as a scroll and stored together in a bamboo case. According to Xia Shiliang's (Xia Wenyan) Tuhui Baojian [preface dated 1365], draft paintings (huagao) of the ancients are called 'chalk versions' (fenben); former generations greatly valued and collected them. How much more important at the present time [to have this] Magnificent Record of the [Southern] Tour which combines all the famous masters of the period in a rare, long, and large-scale draft painting. May all of my descendants respectfully preserve this and eternally regard it as a treasure of this world. An even clearer statement of Song's bureaucratic role in the project is recorded on a label appearing on the brocade wrapper of the draft for the tenth scroll, now in the collection of the Beijing Palace Museum. The label reads: 'Draft of the first scroll illustrating the Southern Tour Return Journey of the Shengzu Ren Huangdi [the Kangxi Emperor]; presented by Song Junye, executed by Wang Hui:37 Although the division between Song's administrative responsibility for the project and Wang Hui's artistic leadership is confirmed by these two documents, the actual process of creation as revealed in the drafts appears far more complex. Based on the surviving pictorial evidence, the process of creation involved at least three distinct steps.38 First, rough drafts (gaoben) were executed in ink on paper by several painters, possibly including Song Junye himself, who either accompanied the emperor on his tour or were later dispatched to record the major sites visited by Kangxi. This stage may be represented by three fragments preserved by Song Xiang together with the draft version of scroll VII. Two of these fragments are far more cursory and far less skillful than the more complete draft scrolls and are also clearly executed by different hands. Landscape details in these fragments are sketchy and only a few, stick-like figures are included. Second, final draft scrolls (dingben or fuben) were executed in ink and pale colors on paper. These final drafts, represented by the paper versions of scrolls VII, VIII, X and XI, show Wang Hui's achievement in orchestrating the visual information provided by the rough drafts and organizing the journey into twelve handscrolls. Landscape and architectural elements are beautifully drawn in great detail. Where sections of paper are joined, slight differences in ink quality and brushwork show that dif- The Southern Tour Paintings 115 ferent sections were executed or at least finished by different artists. Figures were first sketched in charcoal or light ink then finished with dark ink outlines in a simplified manner, often with no facial features. The presence of additions and corrections to these drafts - redrawing a figure or adding several boats - by pasting the correction on top of the original drawing graphically illustrates how one or more artistic supervisors reviewed and amended tb? character of the work in progress. Third, the finished version (zhengben) was executed in ink and mineral colors on silk. The silk scrolls generally follow the final drafts quite closely. In the draft and finished versions of scroll X, for example, a depiction of a neighborhood organization called the Taiping hui shows a complex crowd scene that is almost identical in both versions (Figures 5 and 6). Elsewhere in the same scroll, however, the differences are striking. In depicting the parade field (jiaochang), the silk version of scroll X presents a complex display of military horsemanship that is totally absent from the much simpler draft. This suggests that some changes may have come about as a result of a review of the drafts by Kangxi or one of his representatives. In other places, the changes appear purely artistic. In places, the ground plane angle may be shifted, or a section abbreviated. The most striking difference between the two sets is the greater diversity of action and demeanor represented by the figures in the silk version when compared to the 'placeholders' sketched in the drafts. The care with which people are drawn in the silk version is further underscored by the presence of faint underdrawing around some of the figures. There is no evidence that Wang Hui participated in the early drafts. In the final drafts however his influence is pervasive. The style is unified and the most outstanding elements - rocks, trees and bamboo - compare closely with similar elements in Wang Hui's signed works dated to the late 1680s. Figures, animals and architecture are all probably the work of Wang's assistants. The final silk paintings are executed with great care, but in the landscape details there is a formality in the drawing that robs the brushwork of some of the flair and spontaneity found in the drafts. Just the opposite is the case with the figures which appear extraordinarily lively and vital in the silk version. Part of the difference in the quality of landscape elements may be attributed to the change in medium and the need to make a more 'finished' set, but it seems fair to assume that many passages in the silk version were executed by Wang's assistants. Based on the above information, the various stages in the creation of the Kangxi Nanxuntu may be tentatively reconstructed as follows. In 1689 Song Junye accompanied Kangxi on his second Southern Tour. With the help of one or two assistants he made rough sketches of the important 116 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 5. Wang Hui and assistants, Kangxi Nanxuntu Fenben ('Kangxi Southern Tour Draft'), datable to c. 1695. Ink and colors on paper. Scroll X, detail. Collection of the Palace Museum, Beijing. sites and events of the tour. Probably while the emperor and his entourage were visiting Suzhou, Song sought out his painting teacher Wang Hui and proposed the idea of a pictorial record of Kangxi's tour. Shortly thereafter, Wang Hui set about drafting the composition. Extant paintings by Wang dated to the years 1689 to 1691 are particularly scarce; this suggests that Wang devoted most of his energies to the project for nearly three years.39 By 1690 when, according to Song Xiang's colophon, Song Junye was summoned to an audience with Kangxi, he was in a position to recommend that the emperor's triumphant second Southern Tour be commemorated by a painting; he may even have had one or more draft scrolls to show Kangxi at the time of his interview. In any event, the set of draft scrolls was probably completed by the time Wang Hui arrived in Beijing in 1691. Once Kangxi approved the draft version Wang Hui and his assistants could proceed with the final paintings on silk. The silk itself may well have been provided by the Suzhou Silk Commissioner. Wang Hui and his assistants worked for four years in Beijing to complete the project. A concentration of collaborative works signed by Wang Hui, Yang Jin, Gu Fang, Song Junye, Wang Yun (1652 - after 1735), Xu Mei (fl. The Southern Tour Paintings 117 Figure 6. Kangxi silk version, scroll X, detail. Collection of the Palace Museum, Beijing. 1690-1722) and others and dated to the years 1692-1695 helps to identify which of Wang Hui's students were with him in the capital and elucidates how these artists worked together.40 After the silk version of the Nanxuntu was completed Kangxi granted Wang Hui a private audience and presented him with a scroll bearing the imperially-brushed characters, shanshui qinghui, 'clear and radiant landscapes' When Wang Hui returned to his home in the fall of 1698, he hung the scroll in his hall and gave himself the sobriquet, 'Master of the Qinghui Hall' (Qinghui Zhuren).41 The commission for illustrating Qianlong's 1751 Southern Tour was given to the Suzhou painter Xu Yang (active c. 1750 - after 1776). Xu became a court artist after submitting a sample of his work to Qianlong when the emperor was visiting Suzhou on his first tour. Unlike Wang Hui, who travelled to the capital specifically to illustrate Kangxi's second tour, Xu Yang had already served as a court artist for more than twelve years by the time he began his series of paintings illustrating Qianlong's first tour. 118 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor According to the practice of court artists of the period, Xu Yang, like Wang Hui, first executed a draft version on paper which he would have submitted to the throne for approval.42 None of the drafts are extant; a record in the palace archives dated 21 May 1764, however, states that in that month permission was given to Xu Yang to begin work on a Nanxuntu draft (gao). The preparation of the Nanxun Shengdian was begun the same year. In 1766 Xu received imperial approval of his work in progress and he began work on a silk version which he submitted for mounting on 23 November 1769. According to Xu's inscription on scroll XII, the set was presented to Qianlong in late May or June of 1770.43 Seven scrolls from the finished silk version are extant (see Table 4). As with the Kangxi Nanxuntu, and also portraits of the royal family, this version was never recorded in any imperial painting catalog and was stored in a separate archive.44 Like those of the Kangxi set, the individual scrolls from this set were unsigned with one important exception: the final scroll in the Qianlong series bears a long and flowery dedication by Xu Yang. In March of 1771, only a few months after Xu Yang completed work on his silk version of the Nanxuntu, he set to work on a second, duplicate version executed on paper (xuanzhi); he submitted this version in the fifth month (16 June - 15 July) of 1776. A close copy of the silk version, this paper set was subsequently recorded in Shiqu Baoji Xubian and the entire set is today preserved in the Historical Museum, Beijing. Each scroll from this set is signed at the end by Xu Yang; scroll XII also includes the same long dedicatory text inscribed by Xu on the silk version.45 Is it possible that Xu Yang was the sole author of these two immense sets of scrolls? It was customary during the Qianlong period that when several artists participated in a collaborative project all the artists would sign the scroll. Yet only Xu Yang's name appears on the paintings. Furthermore, the paintings in both sets are each sealed with a jade clasp that bears an inscription incised on its inside face that gives the authorship to Xu. The record of the paper version in the Shiqu Baoji Xubian also names Xu as the only author. At the very least, this suggests that Xu had fewer helpers available to him than were available to Wang Hui and that their roles were comparatively unimportant. Efforts to curtail the amount of detail in the scrolls, notably by devoting long sections to the depiction of water, likewise suggests a shortage of manpower and increases the likelihood that Xu did the majority of the work himself. Stylistically, the Nanxuntu closely resembles Xu Yang's other major architectural and figural subjects, the Shengshi Zishengtu, or 'Scenes of Burgeoning Life in a Resplendent Age; which Xu completed in 1759, five The Southern Tour Paintings 119 years before he began work on the first set of the Nanxuntu.46 This painting depicts the city and environs of Suzhou from Mt. Lingyan in the west to Tiger Hill in the east. The scroll follows the yudao or 'imperial way' constructed in honor of Qianlong's 1751 visit. Since Qianlong chose Xu as a court painter while on his 1751 tour, it is not unlikely that Xu painted this scroll with Wang Hui's Nanxuntu in mind. Xu's able and vivid depiction of the rich life of Suzhou immediately recalls the scenes of Suzhou and Nanjing in the Kangxi set. In the representation of figures and the renderings of the architecture, the painting is also very close to the two versions of the Qianlong Nanxuntu. Since Xu Yang was a senior member of the Qianlong Painting Academy, his painting style evidently reflected the emperor's taste. This style may be summarized as meticulous in detail, eclectic in its sources, but homogenous in appearance with idiosyncracies of personality subordinated to a universal Academy manner. The roots of this style do not reach very deep into the past. Although Qianlong's court artists may have sought to emulate the Sung Painting Academy and such masters as Zhang Zeduan (active early twelfth century), the immediate sources of Xu Yang's style lies in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. In his meticulous treatment of architecture he may have been inspired by such Kangxi and Yongzheng period artists as Jiao Bingzhen and Yuan Jiang, while in his landscapes he follows the general idiom established by Wang Hui and other Kangxi era orthodox painters. Despite Xu Yang's dependence upon seventeenth century models, however, there is a dramatic shift in the character of his work from that of the Kangxi and Yongzheng eras. Three reasons may be cited for this change: the evolution of a new hybrid painting style based on the increasingly anonymous and collaborative nature of palace productions, the impact of Western painting on court taste, and the personality and objectives of the Qianlong Emperor as patron. The major difference between the Kangxi and Qianlong Nanxuntu is the pervasive influence of Western painting techniques. Both sets achieve a high degree of topographic specificity, but Xu Yang's work is more consistent in its description of recession and use of foreshortening to locate objects in space and impart a sense of relative scale and measurable distance between elements. As a result, his compositions attain a degree of spatial unity absent from Wang Hui's work where space is compartmentalized and additively organized. In scroll IV of the Qianlong Nanxuntu,47 for example, Xu Yang presents a broad panorama in which Qianlong's position at the confluence of the Yellow and Huai Rivers is both the focus of all action and the center of the 120 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 7. Giuseppe Castiglione, Banquet for the Western Mongols at the Hall of Purple Brilliance (Ziguang Ge), copperplate engraving by Jean Philippe Le Bas in 1770 (51.4x 89 cm). Collection of the Musee Guimet, Paris (MG 17019). composition. He utilizes an approximation of Western one-point perspective to magnify the emperor's importance: the centrality of Qianlong is emphasized by the framing lines of the near and far shores which converge toward a single vanishing point directly behind the emperor. The low horizon line, the restriction of most picture elements to the foreground, and the dramatic shift in scale between the nearground and far distance also serve to emphasize the towering figure of the emperor and his central role in the drama. Xu Yang's limited use of Western-style perspective and his decision to treat most of the Nanxuntu scrolls as single panoramas recall paintings of banquets and battles by Giuseppe Castiglione (Lang Shining, 1688-1768) and other Jesuit painters active at Qianlong's court.48 In his Chinese style paintings, Castiglione did not strictly adhere to one-point perspective, but maintained a sense of spatial unity that clearly influenced Xu Yang's work. In a copperplate engraving after a design by Castiglione that shows Qianlong making his entrance at a tribute banquet (Figure 7), the bird'seye view and upturned ground plane of the composition recall traditional Chinese landscapes, however, the converging lines of the architecture and rows of figures show an underlying reliance upon one-point per- The Southern Tour Paintings 121 spective to organize picture elements. The foreshortened view of rooftops in the first Qianlong Nanxuntu scroll (Figure 8) clearly parallels the treatment of the tents shown in the foreground of this engraving. This is quite different from the way in which roofs are depicted in the Kangxi Nanxuntu where they are usually viewed frontally from one side of the crest or the other; only rarely are both sides shown. In Wang Hui's depiction of this same location the roofs are depicted from both sides, however, apparently because the curving line of houses here made such a rendering impossible to avoid (Figure 9). The houses are not represented as receding in space, however, but merely as part of a sequence of rectangular segments set around the curving perimeter of the moat. There is no systematic use of foreshortening. In Wang Hui's Nanxuntu changing aspects of the terrain are organized and presented additively to create a constantly shifting vantage point. Because scenery is divided into discrete space cells, the viewer's perspective changes, yet so seamlessly do spatial compartments interlock that one is hardly ever aware of discontinuities or interruptions. Whereas Xu Yang's compositions approximate the physical reality of a fixed view such as that caught by a camera, Wang Hui creates a psychological sense of space in which the mind is constantly piecing together and unifying disparate images captured by the eye as its position and focus shift. Wen Fong has described this same spatial structure in the monumental landscapes of the tenth and eleventh centuries: 'Conceived part by part, the great landscape is read rather than visually experienced; it has a great intellectual sense of scale but lacks physically described space and recession. The result is a conceptual landscape that represents no mere retinal image of nature but a vision of the macrocosm!49 In the Kangxi Nanxuntu it is the activity and movement of thousands of figures that draw the eye along and provide a narrative thread that links one space to the next. From a distance, figures appear like musical notes, dense dots of color that tap out a syncopated tattoo against the more pastel hues of the landscape, providing a persistent melody that transcends and unifies the larger 'symphonic movements' defined by the composition. Foreshortening, shifts in scale or atmospheric distortion effects that fix the viewer's position in space - are largely ignored. In scroll VIII, for example, the eye is led from the suburbs of Wuxi along a line of travelers that leads back into the far distance (Figure 10). Although these figures are presumably quite a distance away, they are still three-quarters of the size of those in the foreground and their facial expressions are still clearly discernible. This consistency in scale and 122 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 8. Xu Yang, Qianlong Nanxuntu ('Qianlong Southern Tour'), scroll I, detail. Dated 1776. Ink and colors on paper. Collection of the Historical Museum, Beijing. ,2i$llllilililf Figure 9. Kangxi silk version, scroll xu, detail. Collection of the Palace Museum, Beijing. The Southern Tour Paintings 123 degree of detail from foreground to far distance enables Wang Hui to draw the eye into the distance and hold it there so that the viewer feels as if he, too, had moved back in space rather than observing the action from a stationary vantage point. Once the viewer has followed the line of travelers into the distance he encounters an empty shoreline that brings the eye to a halt. He then looks back' from that distant vantage point to the other shore where the villages of Xin'an and Wangting are situated. From Wangting he crosses a small tributary and arrives in Xushuguan. Thus, in a very short segment of the painting Wang Hui has moved the viewer from Wuxi to Xushuguan, two-thirds of the distance to Suzhou. By manipulating the position of the viewer Wang Hui has not only enriched the sense of space in his work but also has added to the time it takes to experience the painting. As a result, the sense of traveling a great distance has been effectively evoked even though the actual amount of the painting devoted to this segment of the journey has been dramatically compressed. The seamless transition between different views or space cells is achieved by small incremental shifts in the way individual picture elements are presented. Near Tiger Hill, the canal moves into the foreground then recedes again along two converging diagonal lines (Figure 11). As the viewer approaches the junction point all of the boats along the canal are shown as if viewed from the rear. Just beyond the point where the canal bends back into the distance, however, the boats are depicted as if seen from the front. The eye hardly notices the change, but this shift implies that the position of the viewer has shifted so that the leftward receding canal, a bridge that spans it, and all the buildings that line its bank, may all be seen from the new perspective without any sense of spatial distortion or warping of the ground plane. This small shift mimics the constantly shifting focus of the human eye which often links together disconnected images to form a coherent mental picture that a painting executed with one-point perspective or a photograph cannot recreate.50 Wang Hui's ability to routinely twist space enables him to present landmarks from their most characteristic or fully revealed view; Xu Yang, however, often doggedly maintains a consistent perspective even when it means diminishing the content of his images. Both Wang Hui and Xu Yang depict Tiger Hill near Suzhou and the Temple of Yu near Shaoxing. In Wang's paintings, these places appear in their most characteristic view; space is warped to suit his narrative and pictorial requirements. Xu Yang, however, visualizes his images, if not from a single point, then at least from a position parallel to and at a consistent distance from the line of travel illustrated. In his Suzhou scroll he remains to the north and east 124 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 10. Kangxi silk version, scroll VII, detail. Private collection, Canada. Figure 11. Kangxi silk version, scroll VII, detail. Private collection, Canada The Southern Tour Paintings 125 of the emperor's path; Tiger Hill, consequently, is viewed from the 'back so that most of its recognizable features are obscured. In depicting the Temple of Yu, the climax and culmination of the ninth scroll in both artists' sets, Wang Hui clearly shows all of the temple's courtyards and halls (Figure 12). In Xu Yang's scroll, however, the artist's imaginary position in relation to the emperor's path forces him to show the temple compound from the rear and at a low angle so that most of the complex is hidden (Figure 13). The resultant reduction in pictorial detail may have been desirable for reasons of expediency, but Xu Yang's systematic application of this method of visualization throughout the set suggests a commitment to foreshortening as a means of maintaining a consistent sense of scale and descriptive accuracy among his picture elements. Wang Hui, on the other hand, consciously abstracts and manipulates forms to enhance the narrative content. In the two artists' depictions of the Zhengyang Gate in Beijing, for example, Wang Hui presents the gate in a schematic fashion from a high side view to facilitate the lateral flow of the procession (see Figure 9). In Xu Yang's depiction, however, the same gate is presented frontally in a foreshortened view to show that the procession made a 90-degree turn at this point (Figure 14). Nowhere is Wang Hui's manipulation of picture elements more striking than in his presentation of Kangxi's arrival at the Chang Gate of Suzhou. There streets, canals, and houses all converge in a vortex-like compositional movement that heightens the drama of the moment as it focuses attention on the figure of the emperor (see Figure 14). Related to the differing conceptions of space in the two sets of Nanxuntu paintings is the inclusion or absence of place names within the composition. In the Kangxi set, Wang Hui inscribes the names of towns, gates, bridges and other important sites adjacent to their depiction. This labeling technique goes back at least as far as Han times and the engraved wall murals of the Wuliang Ci where cartouches identifying figures are inserted into the picture space.51 In Xu Yang's paintings, however, such labels are omitted and sites go unidentified, perhaps because Xu saw such labels as intrusions into his illusionistic space. The only exception is Qianlong's poems which were inscribed within the picture space after the paintings had been completed. Figures in the Qianlong Nanxuntu are also clearly influenced by Western canons of proportion and anatomical accuracy. The elaborate poses and theatrical gestures of Xu Yang's tall, slender figures are more convincingly articulated than the squat, conventionalized figures in the Kangxi scrolls, 126 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 12. Kangxi silk version, scroll IX, detail. Collection of the Palace Museum, Beijing. The Southern Tour Paintings 127 Figure 13. Qianlong silk version, scroll IX, two details. Collection of the Palace Museum, Beijing. 128 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor but the overall effect is rather stultifying (Figures 15, 16). This is especially true in group scenes: while the Kangxi figures interact with great animation, Xu Yang's figures appear like isolated actors frozen into mime-like tableaux. In this respect they are not unlike some of Castiglione's early religious paintings.52 The 'descriptive realism' of Xu Yang's Nanxuntu clearly met with Qianlong's approval as the perfect style for documenting the important events of his reign. Xu limited the number of details in his pictures so as to concentrate attention on the figure of the emperor. Focusing on small segments of Qianlong's tour, he devoted a maximum of energy to the minute description of the emperor's action and immediate setting. In the Kangxi Nanxuntu, on the other hand, many details are clearly extraneous to the actions of Kangxi and often appear as comic relief to or in competition with the emperor's actions. Yet the pictures function more effectively as a catalog of the diverse activities and enterprises of the realm, documenting the prosperity of the empire and, indirectly, the success of Kangxi's rule. The Southern Tour Paintings 129 Figure 14. Qianlong paper version, scroll I, detail. Collection of the Historical Museum, Beijing. Conclusion The route which Kangxi and Qianlong followed on their Southern Tours generally coincided, but in both purpose and documentation, their tours were significantly different. Kangxi's tours arose out of his desire to personally acquaint himself with and control all aspects of his empire and government as well as the strategic need to favorably influence and win the support of the local Han gentry. As his reign progressed, the loyalty of his Southern subjects was no longer an issue. Wang Hui's Southern Tour scrolls record and celebrate this turning point in Kangxi's career. They capture the energy and curiosity of the emperor, the magnitude of his journey, the diversity of his realm, and the enthusiasm of his subjects in their welcome of their ruler. From the beginning, Qianlong's tours surpassed his grandfather's in duration and cost while they lacked the same strategic need to encourage the support of the local gentry. Indeed, Qianlong's tours seem to have had the opposite effect, becoming a heavy burden on the people living 130 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 15. Qianlong silk version, scroll IV, detail. Collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (1984.16). Figure 16. Kangxi silk version, scroll III, detail. Collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (1979.5). The Southern Tour Paintings 131 along the route. Qianlong's documentation of his tours was more extensive, more formalized, and more focused on the imperial person. Xu Yang's paintings are idealized, officially-sanctioned images in which man and nature are dominated by the central presence of the emperor. By incorporating both Chinese and Western elements, they epitomize a new, universal style appropriate to Qianlong's view of himself as a universal ruler. Clearly, both sets of Southern Tour scrolls also reflect the personalities of their patrons. Wang Hui's paintings share in the adventurous spirit of his monarch; they are filled with surprises, touches of humor and glimpses of the harsher side of life. Xu Yang's paintings, on the other hand, reflect Qianlong's desire for a sanitized and idealized image of his reign in which he sat at the center of a totally ordered realm.53 Tangdai: A Biographical Sketch Ju-hsi Chou In the annals of Qing painting, Tangdai warrants more than a passing note.1 True, he is not the most significant of the Qing painters and has never been considered as such. A disciple of Wang Yuanqi (1642-1715), Tangdai carried the orthodox heritage into the inner court. In that context, he was influential not only for being in the right time and right place, but also for having molded the taste of the young prince Bao, the future Qianlong emperor (r. 1736-1795), who was by far the best known of imperial patrons and collectors in post-Song China. By that time, he was a venerable old Manchu, sufficiently close to the young prince, and through the example of painting as well as theoretical discourse, directed the latter toward what might be termed the catholic taste of that age. The closeness of their association is affirmed in Qianlong's own words: I love Master Tang's paintings, Having requested many but not feeling satiated. Recently, a piece of The 'Cleansing Heart' paper of old Was brought in from the market. In a quiet room, amidst a small gathering He painted for me a landscape... .2 In another occasion, the young prince wrote, referring to a landscape that Tangdai had painted for him: Facing the stream with back to the hills, A hermit plays the qin. The limpid melody cuts across The boundless space. None but this elegant painter can, With his elegant brush, Portray the scene And stir a friend's soul.5 Tangdai: A Biographical Sketch 133 Noted for his longevity, this Manchu artist served under three emperors and made his last, and most memorable contribution under Qianlong. 4 In quantity and in scale, in individual works as well as in collaborative ventures - with such notable court artists as Giuseppe Castiglione (1688-1766), Sun Hu, Shen Yuan, Ding Guanpeng, and Zhou Kun - the aging master experienced a surge of productivity during his last decades. However, as a painter and a theorist, Tangdai had displayed a measure of maturity even before the Kangxi reign (1662-1722) came to an end. Imperial patronage of his painting began with the Kangxi emperor, who bestowed on him the unofficial title, hua zhuangyuan ('champion among painters'), rising to a peak under the Qianlong. By virtue of his position in the court, his works naturally were known to such noblemen as Hongjiao (d. 1764) and Yueduan (1671-1704), and to such officials and literati as Chen Yixi (1648-1709), Chen Pengnian (1664-1723), Jiang Tingxi (1669-1732), and later, Zhang Tingyu (1672-1755). His Huishi Fawei ('On the Secret of Painting'), having undergone a number of revisions, appeared in 1717.5 Containing decades of observations on the art of painting, it emerged as a full blown treatise, harking back to such noble antecedents as Guo Xi's and Han Zhuo's texts.6 Shen Zongjin (1669-1735), in his preface to Huishi Fawei, praised its author's ability to harbor the essences of Jing [Hao], Guan [Tong], Dong [Yuan] and Ju [ran], and to combine the past with the present.7 In comparison, Wang Yuanqi's Yuchuang Manbi ('Random Notes by the side of Rain-streaked Window') is little more than what its title implies, 'random notes!8 If Wang Yuanqi only hints, Tangdai makes ideas concrete. If the former merely states, the latter elaborates and renders the concept not only clear but systematic. By all account, it is a treatise of grand design, as comprehensive as it is persuasive - an exceptional feat for any eighteenthcentury theorist, whether Manchu or Chinese.9 In view of Tangdai's role as a painter in the court and his unquestionable accomplishment in the realm of art theory, Tangdai's life ought to be better known. Curiously, biographical records are scanty. As Roger Goepper found in his pioneering study,10 the available biographies tend to be laconic and redundant. Zhang Geng (1685-1760), in his Guochao Huazheng Xulu, presented a typically brief sketch: Tangdai, zi Jingyan, is a Manchu. He served in the capacity of Supervisor-inchief in the Imperial Household Department. Skilled in landscape, his brush is penetrating and resonant, and his composition is noted to be stable and balanced. In this sense, he harked back to the Song masters and may be regarded as a painter of the 'competent' class. Attending the inner court, the 134 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor present emperor [Qianlong] appreciated his works, which in turn received imperial approbations and inscriptions.11 Even as erudite a scholar as Hu Jing (1769-1845) treats the artist with no greater detail. His biography is not so different from Zhang Geng's, and may even be partially derivative. Hu Jing, however, was privileged to have seen Tangdai's paintings in the Qing Palace collection to an extent not possible for his precursor. He was more knowledgeable about imperial inscriptions on the Manchu artist's works beyond the scope of the Leshantang Ji, with which Zhang Geng was familiar. Hu wrote: Your servant Jing respectfully submitted: Tangdai received patronage from two emperors [Kangxi and Qianlong]. In landscape, he followed the Song masters. When he was young, his fame stirred interest among officials and noblemen. As he entered the inner court, and received imperial instructions, his brushwork improved tremendously. His paintings are rarely seen among collections [outside of the Palace]; exceptions were cherished as precious jade.12 These standard references, then, provide little relief to Tangdai's biographical profile. A few more helpful insights come from Duhua Jilue ('A Brief Biographical Survey of [Qing] Painters'), which states: Tangdai's zi is Yudong, and he is of the Blue Banner. For an extended period, he worked among the clerical staff in the service of Master Honglan, and thereby became acquainted with scholars of Southeast China. Pursuing a career in painting, he became a painter-in-attendance in the inner court, and shared fame with imperial clansman, Liuquan. Thus they came to be known as the Eastern Tang and Western Liu. By the time Tangdai changed his affiliation to the House of Ning, he was well over 70. However, he remained no less devoted to the art of painting. In style he modelled himself after Dong [Yuan] and Ju[ran]. His early works may lack in strength, but are known for a sense of clarity and balance. In official capacity, he attained the post of commandant.13 Master Honglan is the sobriquet of the imperial clansman, Yueduan (formerly known as Yunduan), son of Yuelo (Yolo, 1625 -1689), the Prince of Anhe. An accomplished poet and literatus, as well as an amateur painter of, most likely, floral subjects in the manner of Chen Shun (1483-1544), Yueduan's fortune flowed and ebbed.14 In the 23rd year of Kangxi (1684), he was given the princely rank of Qin, but six years later (29th year of Kangxi, 1690), was demoted to beizi (of the fourth degree).15 Tangdai: A Biographical Sketch 135 A further demotion came when, in the 37th year of Kangxi (1698), under dubious circumstances, he was stripped of all rank.16 Liuquan was the sobriquet for another Manchu, Muxi, of the princely lineage of Jian, who was, like Tangdai, a disciple of Wang Yuanqi. The two artists of equal stature came to be called 'Eastern Tang and Western Liu' since 'they resided in opposite directions in the city!17 As to Tangdai's change of fealty to the House of Ning in his seventies, the circumstances are unknown, although it most likely relates to the downfall of Yunduan, even though it came about years later. As a hereditary canling or commandant within the Eight Banners, Tangdai would have fallen under the jurisdiction of a princely house, and a transfer from one to another was not out of the question. In all likelihood, the House of Ning referred to above was that of 'Ning Junwang,' (junwang was a prince of the second degree). Hongjiao, who was given the title in 1730, was the fourth son of Hongxiao (d. 1778), a noted bibliophile of Mingshan Tang fame.18 Since this change of jurisdiction came about when Tangdai was in his seventies, it took place under Hongjiao in the early part of the Qianlong reign. Strength of evidence dates Tangdai's birth to 1673.19 From that, we may arrive at the conclusion that he changed his allegiance after 1743, when he reached 70 years of age, and before 1753, when he became an octogenarian. How do we square this with the fact that, during an extended portion of these years, Master Tangdai was also active in the inner court, serving as the Supervisor-in-chief in the Imperial Household Department and painting away in his role as a court master as well as collaborating with other artists? Could it be that, with a decline in health after 174620 or thereabouts, he was absolved from further participation in projects requiring considerable energy and physical endurance? Could it be that the transfer also took place around that time? The archival sources in Beijing pertaining to the daily operation of the Imperial Household Department under the Qianlong reign, may reveal the answers in a future investigation. However, it may be useful to note that the above picture, while admittedly brief and sketchy, is not contradicted in the writings of Tangdai's close friends like Chen Pengnian and Shen Zongjing, or those of the artist himself. Both Chen and Shen contributed prefaces to the Huishi Fawei.21 Both also mentioned Tangdai's Changbai heritage, and his hereditary rank of raoqi canling. In addition, Shen Zongjing testified that he had seen a copy of a genealogical compilation of Tangdai's ancestry, entitled Tangshi Jiacheng. From that, he concluded that one of Tangdai's progenitors had received the prestigious 136 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor title, likely posthumous, of Guanglu Gong, having distinguished himself in early Qing military campaigns for bravery and for his self-sacrifice.22 Another took part in quelling the rebellions of the Three Feudatories and, while stationed in Hanzhong (that is, Southern Shenxi and NW Hubei, with Nanzheng as its administrative seat), made a staunch stand against great odds, thereby, he contended, saving the country from potential ruin. Shen went on to describe Tangdai as emaciated in appearance, stammering in speech, and, confirming the testimonial of one of the master's seals, fond of wine and, while tipsy, painting without the slightest inhibition.23 So much for the Manchu painter and theoretician who, in addition, was not known for ability to manage his own financial affairs. One source suggests that he turned management of the family estate over to his brother.24 Another relates his gradual decline in circumstance in later years in spite of the presence of imperial favors.25 Tangdai's own preface to the art treatise also provides several intimate details to the profile thus established.26 Accentuating his early interest in painting, Tangdai recounted his erstwhile desire for advancement through the civil examination system, and his failures therein on two occasions. Subsequent assumption, or inheritance - based on the successes of his recent ancestors - of a military career did not bring about much consolation, even though he partook in arduous campaigns beyond the border and travelled 'tens of thousands of miles:27 It was after these tumultuous years that Tangdai turned his sole attention to painting, and by 1717, when the treatise took definite shape, he had already devoted himself to this art for more than thirty years. While the above have been established as the general aspects of Tangdai's life, few other details are forthcoming. For a painter who lived only two centuries ago, he remains disturbingly elusive. A primary obstacle in the biographic quest is presented by the question of his Manchu heritage. The title of his genealogy, Tangshi Jiacheng, seems to strike a discordant note. On the surface, 'Tangshi' appears to suggest that the family, or the clan, had adopted a Chinese name, or stemmed from a Chinese origin. However, Tangdai proudly proclaimed for himself a Jurchen heritage in his seal, 'Of the Old Tanggua clan:28 Tanggua is recorded as a surname during the Jin dynasty, and some of the bearers were notable personages.29 Searching through Baqi Manzhou Tangdai: A Biographical Sketch 137 Shizhu Tongpu ('A Comprehensive Genealogical Survey of the Manchu in the Eight Banners'), however, including as well names of those of Mongolian, Han and Korean descent, we found no mention of Tanggua at all, though there appear such similar names as Tangda, Tangni, Tangjia and Tangguer.30 It appears that, by the time of the Qing dynasty the Jurchen name of Tanggua had fallen into disuse.31 Tangdai is nowhere listed under the above-mentioned clans, nor does he appear under the Tang clans of Chinese ancestry. By chance this author came across, in juan 11 of the above mentioned geneology, under the broad umbrella of the Tatala clan, an individual entry on Bada Bayan, which reads:32 [Bada Bayan] is of the Blue Banner... Native of the Zhakumu region, he came to accept fealty [to the Qing]. His great grandson Laohan attacked Fushun from Xianshan; and was the first to reach the sieged city. Afterwards, he [led the troop] to Yizhou and died during that campaign. Given posthumously the title of qiduwei, it was inherited by his son, Shalaqi; through imperial munificence, the latter was given an added rank of yunqiwei. [When Shalaqi] died, his son, Shaxi, inherited the title, though his original appointment was of bujun fuwei. [When Shaxi] died, his son Tangdai inherited the title, with however the added rank taken away; at the present, his title is that of qiduwei. Thus suddenly appears the name Tangdai, which, as a given name, is rare even among the Manchu. As proposed here, the genealogy of this Tangdai, inasmuch as his progenitors are concerned, dovetails in essence with that supplied by Shen Zongjing. In particular, Laohan, the great grandson of Bada Bayan and the great grandfather of this Tangdai, fits in nicely, as he died for the Qing cause after having led the attack on Yizhou as the 'first to climb up the city wall' In Daqing Yitong Zhi ('The Records of the Unified Realm of the Great Qing'), juan 41, for instance, Laohan is depicted as a battle-hardened warrior who spent roughly 14 years in the military rank, took part in some fifty battles, and was successful in laying siege to a good number of enemy cities.33 And Qinding Baqi Tongzhi ('A Compendium on the Eight Banners in the Qing Dynasty Commissioned by the Emperor'), juan 209, like the above-mentioned titles, concurs in underscoring Laohan's participation in the attacks on Fushun and Yizhou, the two historic battles during the early years.34 In the former, the founder of the Qing, Nurhaci (or. Emperor Taizu, 1559-1626), having announced his Seven Grievances against Ming China, launched a full military campaign. 35 In the latter, Abahai (or Emperor Taizong, 1592-1643) sought to subdue Korea shortly after his own ascension to the throne: 138 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor During the reign of Tianming, [Laohan] participated in the Great Army's attack on Fushun. He was the first to climb up the city wall and took it. In the first year of Tiancong (1627), he was among the retinue of the Great Beile, Jierhalang and Amin, in the campaign against Korea. When laying siege in Yizhou, [Laohan] attempted a night attack and died.36 More specific on his death is a passage in Daqing Yitong Zhi: In the first year of Tiancong, [the Qing army] laid siege of Yizhou but was unable to conquer it. As the night cloud darkened over the sky, and silence reigned over the city, Laohan quietly moved toward the city wall. Just as he was about to climb upward, suddenly the arrows descended like rain, and he was mortally wounded.37 Against Laohan's extraordinary deeds, the careers of Shalaqi and Shaxi were apparently devoid of such heroic endeavors or perhaps were simply less well documented. Shen Zongjing's words suggest that one of the two protected the imperial realm by valiantly guarding the strategic Hanzhong region during the rebellion of the Three Feudatories, which raged between 1673 and 1681. A chart in Qinding Baqi Tongzhi, lists six generations of descendants of Laohan who inherited the title of qiduwei:38 1. Shalaqi, who, in addition to the hereditary title, was also given the added rank of yunqiwei. 2. Shaxi, the son of Shalaqi, inherited the titles in the 7th year of Shunzhi (1650). 3. Tangdai, son of Shaxi, was stripped of the added rank, though retained the title of qiduwei; this took place in the 55th year of Kangxi (1716). 4. Songling, grandson of Tangdai, inherited the title in the 19th year of Qianlong (1754). 5. Balang'a, Songling's uncle, inherited the title in 43rd year of Qianlong (1778). 6. Kemen'e, son of Balang'a, received the inherited title in the 51 st year of Qianlong (1786). Given the chronology shown in the chart, we can deduce that only Shaxi, upon becoming the rightful heir to Shalaqi in 1650, could have been the martial hero stationed in Hanzhong during the rebellion of the Three Feudatories. In addition, since most of the hereditary titles were quickly filled by the rightful heir at the death of the original holder, this chart also supplies us with a likely date for Tangdai's death, that is, 1754. At that time, he would have been 82 sui. Tangdai: A Biographical Sketch 139 Is this Tangdai the same as our Tangdai, the painter and theorist? Given that Zhakumu was located in the Changbai region, then is it at all possible to equate Tatala with the old Jurchen name of Tanggua, or the Chinese Tang for that matter?39 Although these accounts of Laohan's martial bravery are close to that of our master's progenitor in Shen Zongjing's narrative, this in itself cannot be considered as sufficient proof. Similar, celebrated feats could have been accomplished by a score of those who sacrificed their lives in the founding of the Qing empire. More specific evidence is needed. In Qinding Baqi Tongzhi, a chapter is devoted to the question of shizhu ('clans and families').40 Reflecting the viewpoint of the Manchu ruler, its author(s) sought to discredit the practice, purportedly initiated by Tao Zongyi of the Yuan dynasty in his famous Zhegeng Lu, of establishing equivalence between the Jurchen surnames and Chinese ones,41 for instance, Wanyan as Wang, Gulijia (Guaerjia) as Wang, Nuxilie (Niugulu) as Lang, or Shimo as Xiao. In addition, among the equivalent name pairings which were a popular extension of Tao's practice and which were deemed to be even less defensible, was the equation of Tatala and Tang!42 However justifiable in the official sense, the attack by the author(s) of Qinding Baqi Tongzhi against this practice only highlights its persistence during as well as before the Qianlong era. Were it something found only among the Chinese population, hoping to derive a measure of social prestige through adoption of Manchu or Jin equivalents of Chinese names, then it would not have been so critical. However, when it was the Manchu overlords who were doing that, then the matter deserved close official scrutiny. The official line, such as exemplified in Qinding Baqi Tongzhi, intended of course to preserve the purity of the Manchu heritage and lineage and to discourage genealogical tampering. To that extent, infusion from Chinese sources and names would be not only confusing but contrary to the dynastic interest. Although the court publicly sought to retain Manchu purity, in private, even an upstanding Manchu like Tangdai, whose hereditary rank gave him distinction in and outside of the court, could exhibit a strong sinophilic tendency in employing the Tang-Tatala link. The fact that his own given name, Tangdai, also incorporated the same character Tang, and thus could be redundant, did not disturb him in the least. It was but an accepted trend.43 Viewed against the above, the title of the Tangdai genealogical chart Jangshi Jiacheng, becomes intelligible. Tatala is Tang, and Tangdai, 140 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor though a given name, is made to sound sinicized and less Manchu. That he willingly displayed the compilation to his Chinese companion, Shen Zongjing, was an indication of the depth and extent of his family pride. Tangdai's life now emerges with increasing clarity. The play on his name was but one small aspect of his life-long sinophilic tendencies. When viewed in conjunction with his unfulfilled quest for a scholarly-official career and his persistent, passionate involvement in the pursuit of the art of painting and its theoretical implications, Tangdai exhibited an amazing spectrum of those telling symptoms of a cultivated Manchu of his time who strove to turn away from his own martial heritage. While Tangdai's sinicization may not be startling, its extent is remarkable, serving to mark the rapid pace of that historic process, against which even imperial policy and pronouncement proved largely ineffective.44 For Love of God: Castiglione at the Qing Imperial Court Howard Rogers The artist Lang Shining is well-known for his paintings of animals, especially horses. Were another artist to concentrate on those subjects, we might hazard the opinion that the artist simply liked animals and so painted them often. Lang Shining, however, was a painter in service to the Chinese court, and when he painted animals it was because the emperor ordered him to do so. The levels of meaning and motivation inherent in Lang's paintings are thus quite complex. We may question first of all what meaning such paintings had for the emperor who ordered them; second, why the emperor chose Lang to do the desired painting rather than another of his court painters; and third, what motivated Lang to respond so dutifully to such imperial demands for more than fifty years of his life. These questions are further complicated by the fact that Lang was not even Chinese but rather an Italian named Giuseppe Castiglione. And Castiglione went to China not as an adventurer or artistic entrepreneur but as a member of the Society of Jesus, commonly known as the Jesuit order. While fully satisfactory resolution of these questions is not here possible, at least partial answers can be suggested by consideration of certain key aspects of Lang's career. Giuseppe Castiglione was born in 1688 in the northern Italian city of Milan, and he seems to have entered the world with a painter's brush in his hand. 1 In view of his later career, we should note that in northern Italy Castiglione was heir to a Flemish tradition of animal painting emanating from Frans Snyders (1579-1657). Snyders, who on occasion painted the animals appearing in works by Peter Paul Rubens, was himself active for a time in Genoa; Snyders' pupil, J a n Roos (1591-1638), lived in Genoa from 1614 onward.2 Snyders and Roos strongly influenced later Italian masters with their naturalistic depictions of various kinds of animals. It was as a fully trained painter that Castiglione applied for admission to the Jesuit order. Complete understanding of his motivation in so doing 142 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor awaits examination of the Jesuit archives. However, in the early eighteenth century the Jesuits and their activities in China were subjects of hot dispute throughout Europe.3 The Jesuits had first arrived in China in the very late sixteenth century. Throughout the seventeenth century, the period of their greatest successes, they followed a policy of evangelization based on accommodation to Chinese customs and practices and aimed at the upper reaches of that hierarchical society. Their approach was condemned and actively opposed by the Dominican and Franciscan orders which held that any accommodation to non-Christian practices was compromising or, even worse, heretical. Since the Jesuits were in China under Portuguese auspices, while the Dominican and Franciscan strongholds were in the Spanish Philippines, it is clear that the dispute had national as well as religious aspects. In any case, the waves of accusations and counter-arguments that swept Europe in the early eighteenth century had the concomitant effect of focusing a great deal of attention on the Jesuit order as well as on China herself. It is thus likely that Castiglione was destined from the first to serve his church in China and by means of his brush rather than as religious proselytizer. After Castiglione was admitted to the Jesuit order in 1707 at the age of nineteen, he was assigned to the Noviziato in Genoa belonging to St. Ignatius. As a matter of course he devoted his first year to the spiritual exercises composed by Ignatius and the second to menial labor. In Castiglione's case, the latter activity included painting two scenes for the novitiate chapel: Christ Appearing to St Ignatius and St Ignatius in the Cave at Manresa.4 In these oil paintings, the earliest known works by Castiglione, the rhetorical gestures and expressions and the dramatic use of light and dark suggest derivation from another self-acknowledged influence on his art, the work of Andrea Pozzo (1642-1709). Pozzo's masterworks are his frescos done for S. Ignazio, one of the two principal Jesuit churches in Rome.5 In Pozzo's vault frescos, the figures plunge over fictive architecture in a veritable triumph of illusionism; this dramatic appeal to the viewer's emotions and imagination may be thought of as yet another part of Castiglione's background. Pozzo was also the author of the two-volume Perspective Pictorum et Architectorum, written as an aid to drawing in perspective and to designing structures ranging from church altars to temporary sets for the theater, and that book was destined to play an important role in Castiglione's career in China. Following his two-year novitiate at Genoa, Castiglione was sent to Portugal, the first stop on the Jesuit route to China. During his period of residence in the Jesuit monastery at Coimbra, Castiglione may have pursued religious studies but he was never ordained and thus remained a Castiglione at the Imperial Court 143 brother in the order. He did, however, continue to follow his first calling, that of painter, by decorating the College chapel. And while still in Portugal Castiglione's great artistic talent had already earned him royal attention. In a letter dated to 1714 and sent from Lisbon to the Directorgeneral of the order in Rome, Castiglione wrote: ... [I have] received instructions from the Venerable Father Provincial to leave without fail this year for the mission which I requested in China. I greatly wish to go, but I must first satisfy the desire of the Queen, who wishes me to paint the portraits of her two small children. But I hope in the Lord that everything will be finished in the required time and that I shall be able to embark.. .6 The portraits of the Queen's children were presumably finished by April of the year 1714 when Castiglione sailed for a China he would reach the next year and call his home for the following fifty-one years. By November of 1715 Castiglione had arrived in Beijing and was settled in the Dongtang, the Portuguese mission-church. 'Our food is quite good,' reported a friend of Castiglione's, 'except for the wine we have here everything that is to be found in Europe!7 Later in November Castiglione and an Italian doctor were presented to the Kangxi emperor by Father Matteo Ripa, an Italian painter who had arrived in China five years earlier. According to Ripa's account: In November, 1715,1 was summoned into the presence of the Emperor to act as interpreter to two Europeans, a painter and a chemist, who had just arrived. While we were awaiting his Majesty's pleasure, a eunuch addressed my companions in Chinese and was angry when they did not reply. I explained that they were Europeans and knew no Chinese. He replied that since all Europeans looked alike, he couldn't distinguish one from another.8 The Chinese also held that European names were unpronounceable, so at least by the time of his presentation to the emperor, Castiglione had adopted Lang as his surname and Shining, 'World (or Age) of Peace! as his given name. It was thus as Lang Shining that Giuseppe Castiglione was presented to the emperor in 1715 and it is as Lang Shining that we will consider him in what follows. The Kangxi emperor's great interest in the E u r o p e a n missionaries stemmed in large part from his view of them as handy purveyors of Western scientific knowledge and techniques. The emperor was entranced by the Western technique of enamelling and many of the missionaries, including Lang Shining, arrived bearing gifts decorated by means of that technique. A major innovation in European enamelling 144 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor made around 1650 allowed shading in all colors and was thus admirably suited to pictorial decoration. This new method was referred to by Ripa in 1716, around four months after he had presented Lang to the emperor: His Majesty having become fascinated by our European enamel and by the new method of enamel painting tried by every possible means to introduce the latter into his imperial workshops... In order also to have the European painters, he ordered me and Castiglione to paint in enamels...We excused ourselves by saying that we had never learnt that art. But despite that we obeyed his command and went. As neither of us had learned this art, and making up our minds that we would never want to know it, we painted so badly that the Emperor, on seeing what we had done, said: 'enough of that: Thus we found ourselves freed from a galley-slave condition.9 While Lang Shining was able to avoid permanent assignment to the enamelling workshops, he was not able to extricate himself completely. Beyond his service in the enamelling workshops, there is no other record of Lang's artistic activities during the eight years he served the Kangxi emperor. Lang undoubtedly spent much of that time studying the Chinese language, as such was standard Jesuitical practice in China. In 1721, nearly fifteen years after he had entered the order and six years after arriving in China, Lang was appointed Coadjutore Temporal, a laybrother engaged in secular affairs, by his Order. The height of Jesuit influence in China was probably reached during the first decade of the eighteenth century. By the end of the Kangxi era in 1722 the European quarrel between the Jesuits and their opponents had developed serious repercussions in China herself. This so-called Rites controversy focused on the best or correct term by which to denote God in Chinese, and on whether Chinese converts should be permitted to perform rites to their ancestors and to Confucius. The Jesuits asserted that these latter practices were social and political in nature while their opponents viewed them as sheer idolatry. In 1715, after a long period of indecision, the Holy See decided against the Jesuit position and issued a constitution expressly forbidding Chinese Christian converts to sacrifice to either their ancestors or to Confucius or to participate in any other ceremonies held in Confucian temples. The Kangxi emperor's reaction to the decree, which was presented to him in 1720, was harsh: On seeing this decree, one wonders how the ignorant and contemptible Europeans dare to speak of the Great Doctrine of the Chinese, these men who know nothing about either its rules or its practices and cannot perhaps even understand the characters in which they are written.10 Castiglione at the Imperial Court 145 The angry ruler further declared that Europeans would not be allowed to preach their religion in China and that only the missionaries at court not their Chinese converts - would be allowed to abide by the Papal Constitution. The strength of the Jesuit mission had from its beginning derived from official recognition of their intellectual worth and from imperial respect and even affection for individual members of the Order. One effect of the Rites controversy was certainly to alienate imperial respect and sympathy for the Order, and the situation only worsened during the reign of the Kangxi emperor's son, who ruled as the Yongzheng emperor from 1723 through 1735. The Yongzheng emperor's view of the church was prejudiced by the fact that among those of his brothers who opposed his succession to the throne were some who had been on friendly terms with the Jesuits. The missionaries were thus under double suspicion, both as potential traitors to the state and, as enemies of filial piety, as menaces to the structure of Chinese society itself. The emperor expressed his fears to the missionaries directly: ... What would you say if I sent a troop of Buddhist monks into your country to preach their doctrines? You want all Chinese to become Christians. Your Law demands it, I know. But in that case what will become of us? Shall we become subjects of your king? The converts you make recognize only you in time of trouble. They will listen to no other voice but yours. I know that at the present time there is nothing to fear, but when your ships come by the thousands then there will probably be great disorder... The emperor, my father, lost a great deal of his reputation among scholars by the condescension with which he let you establish yourselves here. The laws of our ancient sages will permit no change and I will not allow my reign to be laid open to such a charge.11 Official persecution of the church began in the first year of the Yongzheng era and in the following year, 1724, the emperor ratified a memorial calling for the expulsion of all missionaries not in immediate service to the court. During this period of restricted missionary activity, Lang Shining continued to exercise his artistic talents on behalf of his church. Religious paintings were done by Lang for a new Dongtang or Eastern Church, completed in 1729, and for the Nantang or Southern Church he painted a pair of works illustrating The Triumph of Constantine the Great as well as tWo illusionistic frescos depicting architecture drawn in scientific perspective. These last were viewed by a number of Chinese writers, one of whom commented: '...The ancients lacked perspective method, and 146 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor when it is used so skillfully as here, one regrets that the ancients had not seen it.'12 The subject of the other Nantang paintings, The Triumph of Constantine the Great, was undoubtedly intended to inspire the Yongzheng emperor with thoughts of what victories he too could win should he emulate the Roman emperor Constantine and convert to Christianity himself. Despite the Yongzheng emperor's adamant opposition to the proselytization of Christianity, he remained eager to utilize the technical knowledge of the Europeans serving his court. As he himself put it, 'If indeed (the Europeans) resolve to observe the laws of the empire and to do nothing reprehensible, I shall shower favors on them. I shall favor them in everything and I shall honor them with much affection'13 One of those experiencing such imperial largess was in fact Lang Shining. According to a letter written by a German Jesuit in 1723, the ruler decided to test the hand and the brush of Lang Shining. From that day our most dear Castiglione has been daily occupied in the palace with his art... By imperial order he had to send the sovereign whatever he did. It can be said that his works have succeeded in winning the Emperor's favor, for he has on various occasions benignly praised the artist and sent him gifts, even to a greater degree than his deceased parent.14 Lang's earliest extant work painted for the Yongzheng emperor is titled Jurui Tu, 'Collection of Auspicious Tokens' (Figure l). Lang's inscription reads as follows: In the first year of his August Majesty's imperial reign auspicious tokens were submitted repeatedly. Forked yet joined heads of grain came to fruit on distant plains and lotuses with joined hearts and stems blossomed in the emperor's pond. Your servitor Lang Shining respectfully viewed them, and then carefully drew them in a flower vase so as to record those auspicious omens. On the 15th day of the 9th month of the first year of the Yongzheng era, respectfully painted by your servitor, Lang Shining from the Western Seas.15 According to historical records of the period, in 1723 auspicious doubleheaded grain was submitted to the court from Henan and Shandong provinces, and the blossoming of the unusual lotuses is also independently confirmed. Lang's painting was thus commissioned as pictorial documentation of an actual historical event; on completion it functioned as a visual emblem for heaven's approbation of the Yongzheng emperor's rule. The polite and respectful mode of addressing the emperor used by Lang in his inscription was standard practice for all artists submitting Figure 1. Giuseppe Castiglione, Jurui Tu ('Collection of Auspicious Tokens'). Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. 148 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 2. Giuseppe Castiglione, Hundred Horses, detail. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. works to the throne; of more interest here is Lang's attempt to allay the emperor's suspicions of the Jesuits by stating that he too recognized the auspicious natural signs that validated the Yongzheng emperor's ascension to the throne of China. In the painting itself the fixed point of view and the consistent shading used to model the wooden stand, the vase and the leaves and flowers create a strong illusion of solidity and threedimensionality that betray Lang's Western training despite his use of the purely Chinese media of ink and mineral colors on silk. It is readily apparent that some significant portion of Lang's first eight years in China were devoted to learning the new technique and new approaches required by the Chinese materials. One of Lang's masterworks, completed five years later in 1728, depicts one hundred steeds together with their attendants in a complex landscape setting (Figure 2). The horses are shown in a great variety of natural poses and orientations, and each is expertly foreshortened in Castiglione at the Imperial Court 149 accord with a consistent point of view The landscape is more Chinese in style but there too the perceptual gradients of size, detail and clarity create a compelling illusion of solid forms existing within the pictorial space. The ground-plane recedes in measured and fully comprehensible fashion and ends in a clearly defined horizon line. From the early seventeenth century onward a few of these techniques had been adopted by Chinese artists coming in contact with the Western prints and paintings brought to China by missionaries, but in those earlier works the Westernizing elements appear more often as foreign intrusions into the Chinese context. Here the Western system of illusionistic devices is inextricably blended with the Chinese pictorial idiom and the result is something unique. Lang Shining's original court-appointment was to the Zaoban Chu or Palace Board of Works. In that capacity he came into contact with a Chinese bannerman, Nian Xiyao, who had long been interested in mathematics. The result of their friendship was that Nian, a sometime painter, learned the Western system of mathematical perspective from Lang, and the two artists collaborated on a translation and adaptation of 150 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Andrea Pozzo's Perspective Pictorum et Architectorum into Chinese. Nian's Shixue, or 'Visual Learning; was first published in 1729 and again, with supplemental drawings supplied by Lang, in 1735.16 While the Shixue was essentially a technical manual, its publication and circulation would yet have contributed to Lang's reputation as a man of learning and letters. A more immediate reward is mentioned by the Jesuit Antoine Gaubil, who presented a copy of the Shixue to the Royal Society in London. 'Only a few days ago; wrote Father Gaubil, 'did I hear from Macao that the Royal Society is making me a present of two barrels of sherry wine. This gift is worthy of every kind of thanks. It is all the more precious and considerable here because it is only rarely that we are able to have wine made from European grapes.'17 When their duties to the throne permitted, during days of rest from imperial demands, the foreign artists were permitted to accept private commissions. Lang thus developed close and important relations with two members of the imperial family: Prince Yi, brother to the Yongzheng emperor, and Prince Bao, the emperor's fourth son. Before his death in 1730 Prince Yi was in charge of the Zaoban Chu and in his official capacity directed Lang to paint enamel decoration on the metalware produced in Beijing by the Zaoban Chu. Prince Yi also commissioned Lang to do a number of paintings for him, among which is the Xiling Dog in Shade of Bamboo.1* Lang's painting on the one hand documents the presence at court of a hunting dog from Europe; on the other hand the visual interest and beauty of the portrait command attention in their own right. Especially notable is Lang's ability to characterize the personality as well as to describe the physical attributes of his subject, for such are the prime characteristics of his portraits. Prince Bao would in 1735 succeed his father on the throne and reign as the Qianlong emperor. His early contact with Lang, and his great appreciation for Lang's paintings developed while yet a prince, are of great importance in understanding Lang's subsequent status at court. Lang painted at least two albums of flower paintings for the young prince; while their present location is unknown, the prince's recorded inscriptions compare Lang with the great tenth century Chinese masters of the genre and thus indicate the high esteem in which he held Lang's art: In drawing from life Lang yields neither to the hand of Xu Xi nor to that of Huang Quan Because within his heart he must understand The wellsprings of Nature.19 Castiglione at the Imperial Court 151 In 1782, on reviewing Lang's early portrait of himself as prince, the Qianlong emperor added an inscription that paid tribute as well to Lang's skill as a portraitist: In portraiture Shining is masterful, He painted me during my younger days. The white-headed one who enters the room today Doesn't recognize who this is.20 The occasions on which Lang was called upon to paint the Qianlong emperor's portrait were both numerous and varied. In 1736 Lang painted portraits of the new emperor, his empress and his concubines.21 The carved lacquer box in which the painting was stored bears the title Xinxie Zhiping, 'The reign of one whose heart is purged will be peaceful; a sentiment which no doubt represented the young ruler's belief as well as his hope for his own reign. The emperor's awesome status is here manifested only by his fur-trimmed and embroidered dragon robe; the solemnity of the moment is communicated by the decorum of the sitters and by the serious expressions on their faces. Facial planes are demarcated by extremely subtle gradations of wash, with an even, frontal lighting creating only a hint of shadow along the sides of his face. The emperor demanded to be depicted as he was in fact, not as the eye might happen to see him momentarily from one or another angle. Here it is not so much Lang Shining's technique which reveals his Western training but rather his acute perception of the emperor's personality and character: composed and obviously determined but yet not wholly sure of himself and the future. Comparison of the 1736 handscroll with an unsigned painting depicting the emperor seated on a dragon throne and in full court regalia reveals again the hand of Lang Shining.22 While formal portraits such as this were a staple of many Academy artists, Lang's hand is revealed not only in the attention given to psychological characterization but also by the compelling illusionism here; within the pictorial space three-dimensional objects are structurally related in clear and convincing fashion. In this more official type of portrait the ruler's human vulnerability is masked by the imperial facade. Virtually every aspect of the Qianlong emperor's life can be illustrated via portraits done of him by Lang Shining. In a portrait dated to 1758 we see the emperor functioning as commander-in-chief, depicted in full battle armour as he moves against the Mohammadans of Turkestan.23 In another portrait, one dated to 1741, the emperor appears as master of the 152 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor hunt, leading a long file of thousands of retainers through the mountainous region north of Hebei.24 The emperor, whose visual eminence is ensured by placement and lighting, faces the viewer directly; while this frontal view tends to slow the forward momentum of the column, it also suggests that even on a hunt the emperor is the stable fulcrum of the universe. The tripartite mountainous setting suggests comparison with an earlier Chinese painting, Emperor Minghuang's Journey to Shu, while the strong patternization of the picture surface suggestively parallels the fifteenth century Journey of the Magi, a fresco done by the Florentine painter Benozzo Gozzoli (1429-1497). The Qianlong emperor was acutely conscious of the danger to Manchu identity posed by the lure of Chinese culture and the possibility for complete sinicization of their minority ruling group. He therefore made strenuous efforts to preserve and inculcate important values derived from Manchu tribal life, of which the horse was a mainstay. Many of Lang's portraits thus feature the emperor as master of horses. In a handscroll done in 1744, Lang was responsible for the figures and horses while Tangdai, a Manchu bannerman who also served in the Painting Academy, provided the landscape setting. The painting is titled Chunjiao Yuejun Tu, 'Inspecting the Prize Horses in Spring Fields!25 The steeds here being inspected by the emperor are likely those presented to the throne the previous year by the princes of the commanderies of Ka'erka and Ke'erqin. At the time of their submission Lang had done a series of ten large portraits which bear inscriptions giving their names and sizes in Chinese, Manchu and Mongolian.26 The documentary nature of the series is obvious even today, but from the emperor's point of view the Spring Fields handscroll had no less an historical basis. The didactic nature of the work becomes clear only when we realize that inspection of one's horses may have been the pleasure of a Chinese emperor but was an important responsibility of a Manchu bannerman. One of the finest of Lang's later portraits of the Qianlong emperor is the 1757 handscroll Kazaks Presenting Horses in Tribute.21 The emperor sits on a dais, attended by five of his officials; two more officials link the Chinese group on the right with the three Kazaks and their tribute horses on the left. Lang's portrayal of the emperor's countenance conveys again a strength of will and character but also a certain weariness and even suspicion. For the three years prior to this painting the emperor had been greatly troubled by problems with the Western Mongol tribes which had necessitated military solutions. In 1755 a Mongol leader and ten thousand of his followers were routed by the determined charge of one of the Imperial Guardsmen and twenty-five of his men (Figure 3). The emperor Castiglione at the Imperial Court 153 Figure 3. Giuseppe Castiglione, Ayuxi Assailing the Rebels with a Lance. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Republic of China. ordered Lang Shining to depict the valorous guardsman and himself composed a poem for the scroll so that 'a thousand autumns hence this man will be known' 28 Another of the Mongol leaders had in the meantime declared his allegiance to the emperor but then rebelled again. The large armies sent to defeat the rebel were successful but the leader himself escaped to safety with the Eastern Kazaks, who at first refused to surrender the fugitive. In 1757, however, the leader of the Eastern Kazaks concluded that discretion was indeed the greater part of valor and sent these tribute horses and other gifts to the emperor as tokens of his allegiance. The stability of that newly-pledged loyalty was thus still in question when Lang painted this portrait, which captures perfectly the emperor's justifiable mood of skepticism. Horses from the Western regions had reached the Chinese court as early as the Han dynasty, during the reign of Wudi, and the Qianlong emperor's achievement in subjugating that same region allied him with the great emperors of the past. Lang's painting thus records a specific event but one which had historical associations, and his work catered to the emperor's liking for well-painted portraits of horses while yet satisfying his imperial need for image enhancement. The imperial image subscribed to by the Qianlong emperor had as well a cultural component: the emperor as patron of the arts and cultivated man of letters. In a portrait done around 1745 Lang thus depicted the 154 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor emperor relaxing in a garden setting, surrounded by the accouterments of a literatus while viewing a painting held up by attendants.29 That painting-within-a-painting illustrates the well-known Buddhist theme of saoxiang, literally and pictorially 'Sweeping the Elephant' but homophonous with different characters meaning 'sweeping away illusions The actual painting being viewed here by the emperor, one done in 1588 by the late Ming artist Ding Yunpeng, was then in the imperial collection.30 A white elephant was held to have transported the sacred sutras from India to China and was therefore the customary vehicle for the Bodhisattva Samantabhadra, the seated spectator to the right in Ding's painting. In Buddhist iconography Samantabhadra represents fundamental Buddhist law and practice. The red-robed figure in the lower right accompanied by a lion is the Bodhisattva Manjusri, who represents knowledge of those fundamental Buddhist laws and practices. The similarity of composition and coloring between the two paintings tends to suggest that in Lang's work, beneath the objective visual description of the emperor viewing a painting, lies a more profound identification of the ruler with Buddhism. This suggestion is given explicit form in a painting done in 1770 by Ding Guanpeng, another court painter.31 In this later work the familiar features of the Qianlong emperor are given to the seated Bodhisattva and hence present him as the literal manifestation of Buddhist law and practice. And in the ultimate example of imperial apotheosis, an anonymous work done around 1760, we find the Qianlong emperor posed as the visual and cosmic center of a Lamaist mandala.32 The contention that the Qing rulers were successive incarnations of the Bodhisattva Manjusri was taken seriously by the Qianlong emperor, and his personal religious convictions formed part of the context in which his relationship with Lang Shining evolved. The function of all court painters was, in a general sense, to make manifest and to consecrate the glory of the emperor and his reign. However, amongst the scores of Qianlong era court painters Lang Shining occupied a special place in the eyes of the emperor. In part this was because of the emperor's great liking for the verisimilitude of Lang's paintings. Lang thus contributed greatly to the emperor's everyday pleasures. For example, for the Sanxi Tang, the emperor's personal study, Lang designed an illusionistic wall mural which appears to extend the boundaries of the room itself; in the central roundel appears a portrait of the emperor, holding a branch of blossoming plum.33 Over the years the emperor assigned many Academy artists to study with Lang, and one of them, Jin Tingbiao, assisted Lang with this mural. Lang was also valued for his knowledge of Western architectural styles. Between 1747 and 1759 Lang designed a series of buildings in Italian style for the Yuanming Castiglione at the Imperial Court 155 Yuan, one of the favored residences of the emperor.34 Lang's talents were also called into service quite often to record the tribute sent in many forms and from far distant countries; such paintings were frequently inscribed by the emperor himself or by high officials at the ruler's behest (Figure 4). The proboscis monkey here, for example, was submitted from northern Vietnam, and Lang's painting of it was graced by a descriptive poem composed by the emperor and written out by Yu Minzhong (1714-1780), a powerful official and intimate of the emperor. We should not conclude, however, that the Qianlong emperor was wholly accepting or totally uncritical of Lang's style of painting. We have already noted the emperor's dislike of strong contrasts of light and dark and especially facial shading in portraiture; those strictures forced Lang to modify his earlier, purely Western style of painting. The emperor's deep involvement with the art produced by his foreign artists is suggested by a letter written by a French Jesuit to accompany a drawing by Lang Shining. When the Emperor desires a painting for one of his apartments or rooms, he usually conducts the European painter to view the location, where they carefully examine what would be suitable. Whether the Emperor himself selects the subject of the picture or whether he leaves the choice to the painter, it is necessary to prepare a small sketch and present it to his majesty. Only after its acceptance can work commence on the painting. The drawing which we are sending was prepared in this way. It was offered to the Emperor, who accepted it, and then a large painting was made. We should not presume by assuring that the painting agrees entirely with the drawing, because the Emperor, by a unique favour, allowed full liberty in this to Brother Castiglione. The Emperor himself, who so often used to come to the atelier, took such an interest in pictures, as at times to require changes and would himself trace them with a crayon, as we once were a witness, to our great astonishment.35 Perhaps the emperor's ultimate judgement on Lang's art is contained in the imperial comments written about a series of horse paintings done by Lang in 1763. In that year the kingdom of Aiwuhan, modern Afghanistan, submitted four horses of an Arabian type somewhat different from those of the Western regions. Of Lang's effort the emperor commented: Occidental paintings and drawings Transmit by another method, I once ordered, in line-suppressed style 156 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Figure 4. Giuseppe Castiglione, The Monkey of Vietnam. Collection of the National Palace Museum. Taiwan, Repbulic of China. These horses to be drawn; The color was applied fine and dense And minutest details were put in, And they looked just like the four steeds Ascending sandy banks. But while resembling they only resembled And so yield to ancient models.36 Castiglione at the Imperial Court 157 Illusionism, according to the emperor, was not the sole standard by which a painting could be judged; a painting could also signify or evoke some content beyond the immediate forms of which it was composed. One could in fact contest the validity of the emperor's judgement by pointing to the subtle stylistic references made here by Lang to a painting of oxen attributed to the eighth century Tang master Han Huang, but the statement still indicates that on occasion the emperor found at least some of Lang's works overly realistic and insufficiently evocative. But if we then conclude that Lang's style even at the end of his career was not purely Chinese, we must also admit that his works are just as clearly non-Western. In their media, their even lighting and lack of cast shadows, and their attention to local detail Lang's works are Chinese. Other Chinese aspects of his style are clarified by comparison with a contemporaneous Western oil-painting, a portrait of Whistlejacket completed in 1762 by George Stubbs (1724-1806).37 While both paintings can be termed illusionistic, Stubbs emphasized what the eye could actually see while Lang painted what the intellect knew to be there; Stubbs simulated reality, Lang recorded it. The tri-lingual inscription and imperial seals added to Lang's work emphasize the reality of its two-dimensional surface while the Marquis of Rockingham, the owner of Whistlejacket, would never have dreamed of so destroying his illusion of reality. Some might characterize Lang's style as buzhong buxi, neither Chinese nor Western; a more just formulation would find it youzhong youxi, both Chinese and Western, in recognition of the truly unique style Lang created. In light of that achievement it is all too easy to forget that Lang was not motivated by purely aesthetic goals and artistic concerns. His sole purpose in serving the emperor so assiduously was of course to further the goals of the Jesuit mission in China. Lang's close association with the emperor began before the latter ascended the throne and continued throughout the remainder of Lang's life. During the first year of the Qianlong emperor's reign he was entreated by various high officials to continue the ban on all evangelists save those expressly invited to serve the court. The Jesuits had already lost their privileged position and many of their court supporters and hence entrusted Lang Shining with the task of presenting a petition requesting mitigation of the prohibition. 'On May 3rd,' according to a missionary account of the event, the Emperor came as usual to sit by him and watch him paint. The Brother laid down his brush and, suddenly assuming a sad expression, fell to his knees and after uttering a few words interspersed with signs concerning the condemna- 158 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor tion of our Sacred Law drew from his breast our Memorial wrapped in yellow silk. The eunuchs of the presence trembled at this Brother's audacity, for he had concealed his purpose from them. However, the Emperor listened to him calmly and said to him kindly: 'I have not condemned your religion; I have simply forbidden the people of the Banners to embrace it: At the same time he signed to the eunuchs to receive the Memorial and turning to Castiglione he added: T shall read it, do not worry, and go on painting:38 Lang's act was both courageous and extremely dangerous. By Chinese law he was not permitted to submit written memorials to the emperor and he h a d been further warned to say nothing to the emperor save in response to direct questions. The penalty for such audacity could well have been death. The emperor's forbearance was undoubtedly motivated by his feelings of friendship for Lang and not simply by his respect for the artist's talent. In the following year, 1737, the emperor issued another proclamation calling for rigid suppression of t h e Christian religion. Despite the i n c r e a s e d p e r s o n a l d a n g e r , L a n g a g a i n d e t e r m i n e d to i n t e r v e n e personally. On 14 December at ten in the morning the emperor entered the apartment in which Brother Castiglione was busy painting. He asked him a number of questions concerning painting. The Brother, overcome by grief and sorrow at the order given the previous day, lowered his eyes and did not have the strength to reply. The Emperor asked if he was ill. 'No, Sire; he answered, 'but I am deeply dejected: Then, throwing himself to his knees: 'Your Majesty, Sire, condemns our holy religion. The streets are full of posters proscribing it. How can we, after that, calmly serve Your Majesty? When the order that has been given is known in Europe, will anyone be willing to come to your service?' 'I have not forbidden your religion to you Europeans: said the Emperor, 'You are free to practise it, but our people must not adopt it:39 During succeeding years the prohibition was relaxed to some degree but in 1746 w a s again strictly enforced. Five Spanish D o m i n i c a n s were arrested and brought to trial. For the third time Lang attempted to sway the imperial will: ... The following day he was sent for by the Emperor himself, who wished to give him the drawing for a new painting. As soon as the Brother was in the Emperor's presence he fell to his knees and, after expressing his thanks, said to him: 'I beg Your Majesty to take pity on our disconsolate religion: At this demand the Emperor changed color but did not reply. The Brother, imagining Castiglione at the Imperial Court 159 that he had not been heard, repeated what he had just said. Then the sovereign answered: 'You Europeans are foreigners, you do not know our manners and customs. I have appointed two grandees of my Court to take care of you in these circumstances'40 The leader of the Dominicans was executed in 1747, the remaining four the following year. Lang's p e r s o n a l qualities a n d artistic talent t h u s ensured h i m continued and very privileged access to the emperor, but the Qianlong emperor, himself a Bodhisattva incarnate, remained u n m o v e d by Lang's personal testimony of Christianity. Despite the apparent failure of Lang to achieve his personal goals in serving three emperors of China, a letter sent to h i m in 1755 by the Father General in Rome suggests that Lang admitted of no defeat but remained firm in his belief in the validity of such service: I have not forgotten... the painter whom you have asked for so that you may instruct him during your life and leave him as your successor in the art which so aids the progress of the mission and the Society.41 Although Lang Shining is remembered today mainly as a court painter, that activity was but one manifestation of his total commitment to God. The sentiments recorded by Father Attiret, Lang's close friend, were those of Lang as well: Just imagine that I am considered well rewarded by seeing him [the Emperor] every day. This is about all the payment I receive for my work, if you except a few small gifts of silk or something else of little value and which in any case come rarely. But this was not what bought me to China nor is it what keeps me here. To be on a chain from one sun to the next; barely to have Sundays and feast days on which to pray to God; to paint almost nothing in keeping with one's own taste and genius; to have to put up with a thousand other harassments which it would take too long to describe to you; all this would quickly make me return to Europe if I did not believe my brush useful for the good of Religion and a means of making the Emperor favourable towards the Missionaries who preach it. This is the sole attraction that keeps me here as well as all the other Europeans in the Emperor's service.42 W h e n Lang died on 16 July 1766 in Beijing, the Emperor honored h i m w i t h the following memorial: The Westerner Lang Shining entered service to the Inner Court during the Kangxi era. He was very diligent and willing and was once awarded the third official degree. Now that he has fallen ill and passed away, we think on his long 160 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor years of duty and the fact that his years were close to eighty. Following the precedent established in the case of Dai Jinxian (the Jesuit Father Kogler), we bestow on him the official rank of Board Vice-president as well as three hundred taels of silver from the Imperial Treasury and will arrange the burial so as to manifest our abundant distress.43 Lang Shining was t h e n buried outside of Beijing on land donated by the emperor and w i t h a stone tablet recording the emperor's words. Epilog I Notes Approaches to Painting at the Qianlong Court Claudia Brown For nearly fifty years, western and Chinese scholars showed little interest in the prodigious output of the Academy of Painting at the Qianlong court. 'Re-discovery' of this artistic institution began to take place in 1985 with the appearance of several major articles and exhibitions devoted at least in part to the Qianlong academy. These included a study by Kohara Hironobu1 of the Qianlong emperor's connoisseurship of Chinese painting, a study by Yang Boda2 of the structure of the academy based on archival materials, and two major loan exhibitions from the Palace Museum, Beijing, one held at Seibu Museum of Art3 and other Japanese museums, and the other held in Berlin,4 both of which prominently featured Qing court painting. With the exception of Yang's study, however, these dealt more with the imperial collection as such than with the creative activity of the painting academy. A different approach was followed in an exhibition devoted specifically to painting of the Qianlong period, within and outside the court, which opened in Phoenix in August of 1985.5 The exhibition attempted to explore as a whole the neglected area of painting in the later two-thirds of the eighteenth century and to place both the court academy and the independent 'eccentric- artists in their broader context. This became the goal of a symposium organized in conjunction with the exhibition, held on 3-5 October 1985, papers from which are published in revised form in the present volume. The last time eighteenth century court paintings had attracted such interest was in the 1930s when the newly established Palace Museum undertook to bring its remarkable riches to the public's attention.6 After war dampened this initial enthusiasm, interest in the Qing court academy languished. During the 1950s and 1960s the Palace Museums of Taipei and Beijing seemed to put their emphasis on the ancient especially Song - works in their collections, a direction which lent credence to each in its claim to cultural leadership. 164 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor Meanwhile scholars in the West were searching for the authentic Song and Yuan styles upon which to base a stylistic history of Chinese painting. If Ming painting seemed derivative, aside from the work of a few painters of genius, then Qing painting was late and decadent.7 The subgenre of court painting8 was not exempt from the paradigm of deterioration, and eventually the model was laid over the Qing period itself, so that the earlier Kangxi academy was believed to have set a level of quality never again attained. The position was stated succinctly by Heilesen in 1980: 'the quality of documentary court painting steadily declined during the eighteenth century' 9 Although the attitude persists even in recent, serious studies of Qing court painting - Qianlong works may be presupposed to be paler, weaker reflections of their Kangxi precedents - it is now mitigated by a recognition of the changing requirements of imperial taste. Consider, for example, Hearn's assessment of the Nanxun series by the Qianlong court artist Xu Yang,10 in which Xu's unification of the pictorial space and simplification of the narrative themes is interpreted in part as a reflection of his inability to equal the complexity of the Kangxi period Nanxun scrolls, but also as a reflection of the different requirements of the Qianlong project. Contributing to the neglect of the Qing academy was the mid-twentieth century preference in the West for the art of the avant-garde, and the consequent rejection of all that was conservative, traditional or 'academic! In the field of Chinese art, this was fortified by Chinese theories of the yi ('untramelled') approach to painting and eventually by aspects of the theory of literati or scholar's painting, which emphasized the independence of the artist and denigrated the academic tradition. Western scholars have at times tended to attribute an anti-establishment outlook to the scholar-artist, neglecting the fact that for most the prospect of gaining imperial patronage was highly desirable. Recent studies have begun to recognize court service as a high achievement for a painter. Heilesen describes the appointment of Wang Hui as director of the Nanxuntu project as the artist's 'crowning success; and describes Wang Yuanqi's directorship of the Kangxi Wanshou Chang Tu in similar terms.11 In some cases anti-Manchu sentiments have been ascribed to individuals for whom such attitudes probably played a minor, even insignificant role. Assessing the cultural milieu of Yangzhou at the middle of the eighteenth century, Chou has remarked that modern scholars have at times preferred 'to dwell on racial tension as the setting and cause for any brilliance in the art and literature of the period; and have ignored the general acceptance of the Manchu reign.12 The resulting distortion not only obscures the complex motivations of artists of the period but also poses a false dichotomy between disaffected artists and artist-scholars who matriculated in the bureaucracy. Epilog: Approaches to Qianlong Painting 165 Europeans, perhaps more comfortable with an academic tradition because of their own institutions (such as the Royal Academy in London or the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris), have taken more interest than Americans in the Qing academy.13 Their scholarship in this area was stimulated by the Qing academy works which had entered European collections in the aftermath of the Opium War. Moreover, the paucity of Song and Yuan paintings in European collections kept interest centered on the Ming and Qing at a time when American scholars were preoccupied with the Song and Yuan periods. The European investigation of the Qing painting academy was restricted largely to studies of Jesuit and other missionaries who worked as artists there. Based on Jesuit documents as well as paintings and prints in European collections, scholars contributed important studies on the missionary artists in general,14 on Giuseppe Castiglione15 and more recently on the Mulan scrolls.16 These monographs on the European artists at the eighteenth century Chinese court were not accompanied, however, by interest in the Chinese artists of that institution. A notable early exception was Roger Goepper's monograph on the Manchu court artist Tangdai, published in 1956.17 One outgrowth of these studies was a preoccupation with identifying the impact of European painting on the Chinese tradition. While this legitimate avenue of investigation produced important studies,18 it has also promoted a search for a 'western-influenced' style of the Qing academy. Striving to isolate this ingredient, some scholars have overlooked the extent to which eighteenth-century court painting was deeply rooted in Chinese tradition. Elements of pictorial realism have been ascribed conveniently to Western influence rather than, more convincingly, to the revival of the representational painting styles of Song, Yuan and Ming. The study of old paintings at court provided the major source for illusionistic painting in the academy.19 With regard to the style of the missionary artists themselves, it has long been recognized that under imperial patronage they developed a new manner of painting in Chinese ink and colors on paper or silk incorporating some devices of Western oil painting, above all chiaroscuro shading.20 But they also appear to have developed a modified style in oil in which shading was reduced and formal, frontal poses were adopted.21 These modifications, intended to make the oil paintings more palatable to the Chinese, reflect a cultural accommodation far more subtle and complex than what the simple term 'Western influence' implies. The preoccupation with identifying the influence of European art on that of China can be seen as the art-historical equivalent of what Paul Cohen has called a 'Western-centric' approach in American scholarship on nineteenth and twentieth century China22 - a view, ultimately ethno- 166 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor centric, which interprets Chinese history in terms of the Western impact upon it. Overemphasis on the interaction of China and the West has as subtly skewed our perception of Qing painting as it has our perception of modern Chinese history. A related problem is the tendency to look for signs of decline in the culture of a period which has been blamed by modern historians for China's nineteenth and twentieth century political hardships. Thus Kahn seems to reduce the Qianlong emperor's continuation of ceremonial art patronage to the level of tasteless self-indulgence and the eighteenth-century mutual emulation of artistic ideas by China and Europe to an 'exchange of superficialities?3 While the Qianlong emperor's role as a patron of art has received relatively little attention until recently, his significance as collector has never faded from view. Critical attitudes toward his collecting activities have varied. Many have lamented the presence of his seals: the large seals of earlier emperor-collectors seem less obtrusive, possibly because their collections are dispersed while that of Qianlong, on the contrary, survives in discrete clumps in Beijing and Taipei, and works which left the palace in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries continue to appear prominently on the art market. Many have complained that Qianlong's inscriptions and colophons intrude upon the great works he collected. The emperor's confidence in appending his comments reflects his successful absorption of the literati ideal and his keen interest in connoisseurship. The article by Kohara in the present volume discusses these motivations in depth. Some have attributed the supposed decline in eighteenth and nineteenth century painting to the fact that so many old paintings were tied up in the palace collection.24 In a 1978 lecture, Lothar Ledderose remarked that although 'even modern scholars are still under the spell of the great emperor collectors, no scholarly study of the imperial art collection has been made so far!25 While his own studies have led the way in examining the early palace collections of China, other scholars recently have begun to systematically analyze the vast Qianlong collection. Compiling statistical data from the three editions of the imperial catalog, the last completed in 1816, Howard Rogers26 has brought to light evidence that the collecting of art at court was inextricably bound to patronage of its artists: of 15,000 paintings and calligraphies in the imperial collection, two-thirds had been painted since 1644. The very process of reviewing and cataloging old paintings brought about the creation of new works in the form of colophons, including some pictorial colophons,27 and in the form of copies, both free and exact.28 Within this Qing portion of the collection, Rogers found that 7,500 paintings and calligraphies were by government officials, princes, and Epilog: Approaches to Qianlong Painting 167 emperors, while only 1,200 were by artists assigned to the Academy of Painting. 29 This extraordinary degree of participation by scholarbureaucrats underscores the fallacy of drawing a simple dichotomy of style between court-painting and that of independent artists of the eighteenth century. The scholars at court who painted drew their inspiration from the same sources as did those who did not seek or failed to attain high official position. Both groups shared similar education and the early aspirations of many of the 'eccentric' painters might well have led them into the court: Jin Nong, for example, was unsuccessful in his attempt to qualify for court service. Hua Yan, too, was frustrated in his bid for service in the capital. The remarkable stylistic range of these artists thus stems not from their backgrounds but from the unprecedented liveliness of the private patronage of painting in Yangzhou. Among the most revealing studies of the Qing academy are those of Yang Boda30 based on scrutiny of the palace archives in Beijing. His work has brought to light actual practices of the academy, including methods of commission and payment, dispensing of materials, and assignment of painters to specific studios, and also has shown the close personal involvement of the emperor in many projects. No doubt the archives will yield yet more information, but an even more important resource will be the sizable holdings of court paintings in the Palace Museum, Beijing, and the National Palace Museum, Taipei.31 These form a resource of documented paintings unparalled in other areas of Chinese painting. If Qing court paintings have not always been treated seriously as works of art, they have consistently been valued as historical documents. Indeed, the recent surge of interest in the Nanxun scrolls stems in part from the appreciation of their documentary value. Military pictures, too, have received considerable attention for their historical content.32 Such other themes as the glorification of empire, the unification of outer regions, the benefactions of the emperor, and filial piety within the imperial family have been studied in some depth by historians,33 and yet the full meaning of such paintings, upon which historical interpretation must ultimately depend, has yet to be worked out.34 While the theme of glorification of the unity of the empire was clearly i m p o r t a n t , such other t h e m e s as t h e emperor's p e r s o n a l identity as 'scholar-literatus' may have been an even greater preoccupation of the court. When taken together the portraits of the emperor as scholar or scholar-artist and the remarkable number of paintings and calligraphies by the emperor himself35 argue persuasively that this was an overriding personal concern. Other motivations of the court clearly included 168 Chinese Painting under the Qianlong Emperor religious ones, as shown by the significant number of Buddhist subjects painted by academy artists.36 The revival of interest in Qianlong court painting has paralleled a resurgence of interest in decorative arts of the Qianlong period, including porcelain, cloisonne and painted enamels, lacquer, metalwork and glass. In both areas, a shift, perhaps a curtailment, in production of courtsponsored art around 1760 has been recognized.37 What Yang Boda has identified as a reorganization of the Huayuan Chu and the Ruyi Guan coincides with an identifiable decline of activity in realistic court painting of the sort practiced by the professional court painter (as opposed to the scholar-official-painter). 38 Coincidentally there was an increased appearance of painted decoration on porcelain and an upsurge in painted enamels - a trend which may stem from the reassignment of painters to the Falang Chu (enamelling workshop).39 Information such as this may at last allow the development of a stylistic history of Qianlong court painting. The recent resurgence of interest in Qing court painting has followed a few paces behind the movement to re-examine academic painting in Europe. There is a new appreciation of the merits of a system which rewarded professional skills with commissions on a grand scale and provided advanced training for a younger generation of artists. If the potential for a stifling influence was ever-present, the potential for great accomplishment was also strong. Moreover, the well-documented nature of academy painting gives its study an important advantage. As other academies documented their own activity, so did the Qianlong one. The internal documentation and criticism of Qianlong court painting appears most prominently with the commission of the Bidian Zhulin and Shiqu Baoji in 1744,40 but inscriptions, colophons and imperial seals also served as official documentation. In a field where scholars and connoisseurs have long complained about the lack of unequivocally documented paintings, it is ironic that so few studies of the Qianlong material in palace collections have been undertaken. Although the notion that the painter gives form to government propaganda or imperial images is antithetical to the literati ideal, the Qianlong academy institutionalized literati theory and made an orthodoxy of it. Future studies may reveal how this theory of artistic independence was adapted to function as an establishment doctrine.41 Moreover, while most scholars are careful to distinguish between official-painters and courtpainters, the complex stylistic relationship between their works has yet to be elucidated. Notes Second references in the notes for each paper are generally given as short titles. Works frequently cited have been identified by the following abbreviations: