Intent,
in Tents and Intense
Abstract
The concept of Original Artistic Intent is difficult to apply
to Tibetan thangkas. Thangkas are composite objects produced
by painters and tailors with differing intents, skills and training.
Iconographic specifications, regional and doctrinal differences
in style, changes in form from harsh treatment and altered mountings
all complicate the issue.
Introduction
A thangka is a complicated, composite three-dimensional object
consisting of: a picture panel which is painted or embroidered,
a textile mounting; and one or more of the following: a silk
cover, leather corners, wooden dowels at the top and bottom
and metal or wooden decorative knobs on the bottom dowel.
Can you say that there was an artist who had a prevailing artistic
vision over the entire composition? Rarely. Is the thangka which
you are examining in your laboratory today in its original form?
Probably not.
Intent
What is the purpose of a thangka, what use was it originally
intended for? Thangkas are intended to serve as a record of,
and guide for contemplative experience. For example, you might
be instructed by your teacher to imagine yourself as a specific
figure in a specific setting. You could use a thangka as a reference
for the details of posture, attitude, colour, clothing. etc.,
of a figure located in a field, or in a palace, possibly surrounded
by many other figures of meditation teachers, your family, etc..
In this way, thangkas are intended to convey iconographic information
in a pictorial manner. A text of the same meditation would supply
similar details in written descriptive form.
Does the concept of artistic intent apply to thangkas? Only
rarely do thangkas express the personal vision or creativity
of the painter, and for that reason thangka painters have generally
remained anonymous as have the tailors who made their mountings.
This anonymity can be found in many other cultures.
There are, however, exceptions to this anonymity. Rarely, eminent
teachers will create a thangka to express their own insight
and experience. This type of thangka comes from a traditionally
trained meditation master and artist who creates a new arrangement
of forms to convey his insight so that his students may benefit
from it. Other exceptions exist where master painters have signed
their work somewhere in the composition.
The vast majority of anonymously created thangkas, however,
have taken shape as a scientific arrangement of content, colour
and proportion, all of which follow a prescribed set of rules.
These rules, however, differ by denomination, geographical region
and style. The Conservator is left with the responsibility of
caring for religious objects that usually carry neither the
names of the artists, nor information about their technique,
date or provenance. But we do know that the intent of the artist
was to convey iconographic information.
There is a vast amount of iconographic information provided
in thangkas, some of it literally spelled out for you. If you
look closely, many thangkas spell identification of figures
and scenes in formal and delicately rendered scripts. In damaged
sections of thangkas where paint layers are missing, letters
which indicate the master painter's choice of colour are sometimes
visible. These letters were not intended to be part of the final
composition and should not be confused with the former. But
given the breadth and variety of the iconography of Indian and
Tibetan Buddhism, it is virtually impossible to extrapolate
the information that would be required to fill in figures that
are missing or to complete the sacred objects that the figures
hold in their hands. Where inpainting is required, the definition
and clarification of artistic intent is a complex issue.
Since even indigenous Tibetan scholars trained in the iconographic
details of Buddhist deities generally would not presume to know
the iconography associated with every deity, it is unlikely
that most Conservators could guess the identity and details
of unfamiliar figures. In this case, speculation as to the artist's
intent tends to be a particularly unrewarding strategy.
In the twenty five years during which I have been working with
thangkas, I have chosen never to guess, calculate or presume
to identify missing iconographic facts. To do so would, in my
experience, contravene both the ethics that are required of
professional Conservators and the integrity of the objects that
have been entrusted to us. Even a subtle change in colour alters
the message of an icon.
For example, a particular shade of the colour green indicates
effective activity, while a white often indicates peacefulness
and unassailable compassion. It is significant therefore if
the same form of a feminine figure is rendered in green or white.
Is the colour you see before you the colour which the artist
intended for you to see? Sometimes water damage (yak-hide glue
is susceptible to water damage) washes away several fine layers
of pigment on final paint layers or shading layers. This damage
exposes either underdrawing or flat colours which the artist
never wanted you to see. Although some details may be present,
unless the artist has also left a notation as to the specific
colour (sometimes revealed by paint loss), an error would be
made if the Conservator were to reconstruct something in an
inappropriate colour.
Often, a combination of water-damage, greasy butter lamp soot
and smoky incense grit permanently alters the original colours.
Evidence of this is often seen at the edges where a mounting
has protected the original colours.
In Tents - How Tradition
Contributed to Damage
Damage was particularly likely given the tendency of Tibetans
to travel long distances in harsh conditions. Thangkas were
important articles of the tent culture of nomadic monastic groups
in medieval Tibet. It was not unusual for a group of scholars,
yogins and priests to travel by yak to distant regions, set
up tents, unroll the thangkas and serve the local people by
teaching before moving on to another area.
This was good for the people but intense for the thangkas! Rolling
and unrolling was, and still is, unavoidably damaging for thangkas.
Rough handling and damp walls damaged both the paintings and
their mountings, in medieval Tibet and today as well. I have
studied the handling of thangkas today in existing traditional
monastic settings. I was invited by the Abbot of a major monastery
on the Tibetan border to work with the monks on proper care
and handling of their thangkas. During the year, according to
religious holidays of the lunar cycle, specific thangkas are
removed from storage, unrolled, hung up in damp and smoky shrine
halls, and then taken down, stacked for rerolling and placed
back in storage. Storage consisted of airless tin trunks designed
to protect thangkas from rodents. The trunks smelled of bacteriological
activity.
The monks in this monastery value their thangkas. But rolling
and unrolling combined with rough handling and poor storage
constantly damages their treasured thangkas.
Intense
Now if you are feeling that the subtleties of colour and iconography
are overwhelming, we can continue on to style and technique!
If you feel that the original artists were working by a set
of rules to which you have little access, let us reinforce that
tense feeling by looking at the range of traditional styles
and painting techniques, which the original artists were guided
by. Then we will continue on to discuss the mountings which
were made by tailors who worked by a completely different set
of guidelines.
Paintings
Basic painting technique differs with regional style, training
of the artist and the funding available to purchase gold, expensive
pigments and so on. Also with the number of students or assistants
the master painter employed.
Did the artist contour areas of iconographic and non-iconographic
detail (such as sky or grass) with wet shading, dry shading
or a combination of the two techniques? The Conservator would
have to study thangka painting technique to understand. A good
way to recognise these techniques is by learning to paint thangkas
or by studying incomplete thangka paintings.
Did the artist apply many fine layers of paint one upon the
other, or one heavy layer? Regional styles differ in the technique
of paint application.
If the paint layers are lost and damaged, can the Conservator
judge the artist's intent from the surrounding areas? Should
the Conservator tone in lost areas of non-iconographic detail?
Private collectors and dealers, for example, often request a
Conservator to inpaint all damaged areas.
Although some of these questions are standard conservation issues,
they are further complicated when religious and iconographic
message must be respected and maintained.
Mountings
Thangkas are not only paintings. Their textile mountings are
very important. When dealing with the mountings, a new set of
questions arises. Did the artist of the painting have any control
over the style and proportions of the mountings which surround
the painting? Was the original choice of mountings that of the
patron or that of the tailor? Is the tailor to be considered
in a discussion of artist's intent? Was the painting created
in one part of Tibet and framed in another part of Tibet, China
or Northern India? Did the silk come from China or the Middle
East along active trade routes? Is the mounting done in a different
style, technique and aesthetic from those of the painting?
Is the silk brocade mounting currently part of this thangka
in fact the original mounting for this picture panel, or could
it be the third or fourth replacement? The answer to this last
question can often be found on the edges of the support where
several row of stitch holes can indicate that the mounting has
been changed.
Does the mounting obscure significant sections of the painting?
Tailors have been known to sew mountings with a window so small
that it covers important iconographic and aesthetically relevant
sections of the painting composition. The form of the mounting
therefore may alter the artist's intent by obscuring details
significant to the iconography and aesthetics of the painting.
Summary
The conservation treatment of a
thangka is a complex process that reflects the complexity of
the original composite object. All of the issues raised above
must be evaluated in deciding on the appropriate treatment for
a specific thangka.
For example, a Conservator must look carefully for any exposed
colour notations and not confuse them with iconographic lettering
on the final paint layers. A Conservator must evaluate what
regional and stylistic techniques were used in producing the
painting and mounting and also look for damage from past handling.
And finally, the Conservator must examine the current mounting
to determine its relation to the painting and document whether
it covers significant sections of the painting.
In summary, thangkas are complicated composite objects which
are designed to communicate iconographic ideas in a beautiful
and practical form. A thangka in your laboratory or collection
may be the production of many painters and tailors with differing
intents, and differing skills and training. The textile mounting
may have a completely different style, date and region of origin
from those of the painting.
Pure, single artistic intent is lost through a combination of
iconographic specifications, regional and doctrinal differences
in style, changes in form subsequent to the original creation
and many years of harsh treatment.
- Ann
Shaftel
Acknowledgments:
The Author
is indebted to the late Vajracarya, the Venerable Chögyam Trungpa,
Rinpoche, the late H.E. Jamgon Kongtrul, Rinpoche, and to Khenpo
Tsültrim Gyamtso, Rinpoche.
Copyright © 1993 by Ann Shaftel
Ann Shaftel is an Elected Fellow of the American Institute for
Conservation and the International Institute for Conservation.
She has published and lectured on thangkas and served as consultant
and conservator for monastic and museum collections for the
past 25 years. She holds an MSc in Conservation from Winterthur
(1978), an MA in Oriental Art History from the University of
Michigan, Ann Arbor (1972), and a BA from Oberlin College (1969).
She also studied at UNESCO-ICCROM. She apprenticed to Tibetan
master painters for 15 years.