Academic · Perspectives | The aesthetic dimension and social function of Chinese calligraphy

The cohesion of the Chinese in terms of political and cultural traditions is amazing. To this day, for more than 2,000 years, China has maintained its territory, its political and social system, its language and writing system, and its artistic traditions. In a sociological sense, this cohesion is maintained through the homogeneity of groups such as educated academic-officials, who share a stable set of values. These values are ideologically centered on Confucianism. But in the author's view, another equally important part of this value system is borne by the artistic tradition cultivated among the educated elite, of which calligraphy is the most important.

In the first century AD, as soon as the literati class emerged, they began to explore the aesthetic scale of writing practice. Writing is transformed into calligraphy. In the process, the literati helped to foster social cohesion among their classes, which in turn was a prerequisite for political cohesion and stability. If this treatise on the social function of calligraphy is correct, then some of the characteristics of Chinese calligraphy, for example, that are unique from the point of view of world art, and that are not seen in European and Islamic writing, are the characteristics that produce social cohesion. And the ensuing discussion will prove that this is indeed the case. The discussion will focus on three aspects of Chinese calligraphy that are unique to other world art forms:

(1) Time and movement factors in a calligraphy work.

(2) The cohesion of technology and style in the artistic tradition.

(3) The mode of dissemination of authoritative masterpieces.

Chinese calligraphy is the only major art form in the world that allows the viewer to review its creation in all successive steps of a finished work. The order of the strokes of each word should follow established and unchanging rules. Sort words from top to bottom (except for horizontal headings, etc.), and lines from right to left. Chinese calligraphers are always asked to write a readable text and strictly follow a specific sequence of strokes, so that the reader can trace the specific movement of the brush from beginning to end with the eyes of each stroke, every character, and every line. Feel the rhythm of the writer's hand, his sensitivity and his subtle emotions. Feel whether the writer presses the pen gracefully or forcefully, and whether the pen is lifted quickly or slowly.

However, the temporal element of Chinese calligraphy is not always experienced in a sense of movement. The viewer can retrace the inscription on a bronze trivia of a minister from the 11th century BC in the order in which it was written, and in this sense, there is a time factor in this bronze inscription. Perhaps the order of strokes in each word is also strictly controlled, but this has not been visually proven, for example, we cannot tell which stroke the author started.

In 219 BC, Qin Shi Huang (259-210 BC) erected a stone tablet to commemorate the establishment of a unified Qin dynasty, and the calligraphy on the Yishan Tablet also lacks a sense of movement. The almost sacred quality of its inscriptions is stunning. The steady square and regular space of vertical and horizontal columns, the careful turns and curves in the strokes, and their balanced thickness from beginning to end, give the impression of solemnity and stability, suitable for the Qin Dynasty stele that symbolizes eternity. However, the speed of the strokes and the sense of movement of these lines as they are written are completely missing.

Change happens gradually. The earliest important steps can be seen in a memorial stele "Ritual Tablet" erected in Confucius's hometown of Qufu, Shandong Province in 156 AD. The novelty of the inscription writing is that the thickness of the strokes has been adjusted to a certain extent. Of particular note are the strokes drawn to the right. As the book was about to be finished, the brush was pressed down again, and then raised sharply again, giving it a heavy point. For the first time, people can see the lines of an elastic brush with unmistakable accuracy. Early bronze and stone inscriptions may also have been written with a brush, but they are not visible.

The aesthetic potential of brush handwriting developed over the next few centuries. In another memorial stone inscription erected by Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty (reigned 627-649) in 648 AD, the thickness of the strokes changes with the continuous upward and downward movement of the brush, and one can clearly see the different ways in which the brush is pressed when starting to write a stroke, and whether the brush is lifted quickly or slowly when the pen is closed. The movement of the writer's hand can even change the original structure of the typeface, and two or more individual strokes are often completed in a continuous motion without lifting the pen. In this way, a completely new type of font was created, which evolved into cursive.

Cursive writing was not developed from stone inscriptions, but from private letterheads. In fact, Tang Taizong's use of cursive on solemn stone tablets is remarkable, and it is also an exception. He did this to show how highly he admired Wang Xizhi, who lived between 303 and 361 A.D. and was hailed as the greatest calligrapher of all time, who was considered to have perfected cursive writing. Comparing this stele with Wang Xizhi's letterhead "Funeral Post", people will find that the stone inscription of Tang Taizong accurately copied Wang Xizhi's grass style.

From an aesthetic point of view, the development of cursive script meant that calligraphy had become a medium through which the writer's personality could be revealed. By following the movement of the brush in cursive writing, the reader can feel the personality of the writer more directly by following the movement of the brush in cursive writing.

Fortunately, we don't need to rely solely on modern common sense to prove the connection between the rise of cursive writing in China and the rise of the aesthetic concept of "reading people by words". There is abundant documentary evidence for this relationship. It is not surprising, for example, that the earliest known book treatise written at the end of the second century C.E. discusses cursive writing, albeit in the form of an aversion to cursive writing. Its title is "Non-Cursive". There is a meaningful passage in the biography of Liu Mu, the nephew of Emperor Ming of the Han Dynasty:

(Liu Mu) is also good at history books, and the world thinks it is a model. Then and lying on the disease, the Ming Emperor stagecoach order to make ten cursive rulers.

At the beginning of this paragraph, it is said that Liu Mu is good at official calligraphy, which can be seen in the font of the Confucian Temple's "Ritual Tablet", and these handwritings, although people can see the initial traces of his brush writing, are still in a quiet atmosphere. However, the emperor explicitly requested that the letterhead be written in cursive, and he hoped to once again communicate with his beloved relatives and friends by observing the trajectory of Liu Mu's quick brush movements. This incident shows how much calligraphy is valued in the direct expression of the writer's personality, and may even be the best substitute for himself.

We can't see Liu Mu's calligraphy in real life, but we can get an understanding of the genre of letterhead through Wang Xizhi's letterhead "Funeral Post". His contemporaries, cultural officials in the fourth-century southern capital of Jiankang (present-day Nanjing), wrote similar letters. They use the handwriting on letterhead to identify and measure each other's personalities, thus reinforcing their sense of identity within the group.

The content of these letterheads may seem surprising at first glance, but in fact, it is logical. The purpose of writing is to convey information, which usually corresponds to the content of the writing rather than the form of the written document. But these letterheads are a different story. In Liu Mu's biographical anecdotes, there is no mention of the content of the "cursive script" that the emperor asked him to write. Perhaps the emperor didn't care too much, he wanted to see the calligraphy rather than the content. The same typical neglect of content at the expense of form can also be seen in later Chinese literary paintings, in which the iconographic elements play a rather obscure role.

Even the briefest discussion of the master Wang Xizhi cannot fail to mention his famous work "Orchid Pavilion Preface". In the spring of 353 AD, in the Lanting Pavilion on the third day of the third lunar month, Wang Xizhi and his friends held an outdoor party. Participants sit on the bank of a crooked stream and let the wine glass float on the water, and the person in front of the wine glass must compose a poem. At the end of the day, all the poems were collected, and Wang Xizhi personally wrote a preface to the collection.

The preface consists of 28 columns and 324 characters, and the beauty of this work lies in the perfect combination of rigor and refinement and elegance and ease. The constant change of stroke shapes, the free and balanced structure of the shelves, the fluid lines, and the dynamic spaces between the overall layout all contribute to an artistic rhythm that was considered standard in later centuries. Wang Xizhi was also very satisfied with his work, and the next day, he wanted to copy it. But we've heard that even though he tried hundreds of times, he couldn't reach the level he had performed the day before. This work is written completely subconsciously, and it flows naturally in a unique and just right moment of creation.

The manuscript of "Orchid Pavilion Preface" soon had an unexpected ending. Emperor Taizong, the calligrapher we have already mentioned and an ardent admirer of Wang Xizhi's style, took the Orchid Pavilion Preface as his own and ordered it to be buried with him. When he died in 649 AD, his wish was granted. Because of the emperor's love, the original manuscript of this work was never seen again. Although it disappeared in the seventh century, this did not prevent the Orchid Pavilion from becoming the most famous calligraphy work in East Asia. It has been passed down to future generations through countless imitations.

The historical importance of the Orchid Pavilion Preface is rarely discussed, both in traditional and modern literature. It is undoubtedly a calligraphy work of the highest quality. However, for the author of this article, it opens up new research routes in at least three directions. Although it is not a poem per se, the Orchid Pavilion Preface is a preface to a collection of poems, and for the first time, calligraphy became closely associated with the art of poetry, which had become an art that officials expected to master some time before the fourth century. Now, calligraphy shows a similar conclusion. Moreover, in the story of the Orchid Pavilion Preface, we hear for the first time that a calligraphy work can be written in the courtyard when the literati gather. Insofar as the garden served as an important meeting place for celebrities in later generations, the Orchid Pavilion Preface marks an important step in the formation of a later artistic system, including poetry, calligraphy, and painting, which were all practiced in the garden.

The third novelty of this work brings us back to the question of calligraphy showing the personality of the writer. In the penultimate column of this work, two complete words are erased, and the last word of the entire work is replaced by another word written on it. These revisions were made by Wang Xizhi on the original manuscript, and they were carefully preserved in all the imitations of later generations. These later changes are even more likely to inspire the reader to feel close to the writing than the handwriting left by the quick movement of the brush. He can imagine that on that beautiful spring day in 353, he and Wang Xizhi sat next to each other on the banks of the Qushui River, witnessing a great creative moment in Chinese history.

As history progressed, the works of Wang Xizhi and his contemporaries were regarded as classic models, which helped to promote the extraordinary cohesion of the artistic tradition in terms of technique and style. For 2,000 years, the technique of calligraphy remained largely unchanged, as the materials used – paper or silk, brushes, inkstones, and ink – were preserved. Recent archaeological discoveries suggest that paper production began in the second century BC, and that brushes also appeared as early as the Warring States period. For a long time, all calligraphers had to grasp exactly the same technical issues and personal experience, and only then did they have the right to evaluate the technical achievements of other calligraphers. For example, he was always able to accurately judge how well other calligraphers could control the flow of ink on soft paper.

The same, or even more important, is the absence of formal system changes. In Wang Xizhi's time, we have witnessed three types of scripts that have been in use since then (along with the small seal and official script): regular script, line script and cursive script. And in all these different fonts, the number and position of strokes of the same word in the lexical sense are different. Since then, no new fonts have been created. It was not until the present day that a new type of font was created under the guidance of the Chinese government. This was echoed by the invention of new writing instruments such as ballpoint pens and writing screens, as well as the disappearance of the literati class at the social level and the growth of mass civilization.

The profound stability of the aesthetic and stylistic standards embodied in the classics of classical masterpieces has strengthened the stability of the typeface for 1,500 years. These authoritative works were originally composed of the writings of Wang Xizhi and his contemporaries, but over time, the works of later masters were added to them. They are the cornerstone of a complex stylistic system that has evolved over hundreds of years and has evolved from countless individuals, genres, and eras.

A skilled calligrapher is expected not only to master multiple fonts, but also to be able to write in a variety of styles of previous masters. In order to demonstrate with his own performance that his knowledge of the history of calligraphy lies not only in theory but also in practice, he may even have merged several stylistic levels and styles of previous generations with different stylistic orientations into a specific work of calligraphy. Still, a good calligrapher expects to eventually develop a personal style.

An example of this can be seen in the collection of works by Dong Qichang (1555-1636). His work is based on a range of different modes. The Huangting Neijing Jing in the Xihongtang Fa Ti is a Taoist scripture written in small block letters by the fourth-century Xuanshi Yang Xi (born 330). Each stroke of the work is written appropriately and precisely, and the handwriting is evenly arranged between the elegant and smooth lines. As an expression of respect, Dong Qichang's commentary on the work was written in imitation of the style of the Taoist calligrapher. Although Dong Qichang's pen is faster, and his lines have a line that is quickly pulled down vertically (referring to the obvious "hanging needle" penmanship of Dong Zi's original compared with Yang Xi's original work), his handwriting is consistent with the fourth-century original in size, proportion, and spatial arrangement.

Another set of comparisons is a work by Xu Hao (701-782), The Monument of the Monk of Bukong (781), and a work by Dong Qichang that he claims to imitate Xu's style, The Book of Linxu Hao, and the Farewell to Zhang Jiuling. In these two works, each stroke of regular script is clearly displayed, and each character is a self-contained, perfectly balanced unit. In Dong Qichang's version, the edges and corners of the strokes are not obvious, the articulation between the characters is spontaneous, and he does not deliberately make the handwriting horizontal and horizontal.

Dong Qichang imitated a cursive letterhead by Wang Xianzhi (344-388), one of Wang Xizhi's sons and a famous calligrapher himself, and added a second character that was missing from his original. The two works are very similar in their overall structure, but there are some noticeable differences. Dong Qichang's pen is more lively, and according to the Chinese, his words are more "meaty". What's even more gratifying is that the last word in the first column of the original work has become the first word in the second column in Dong's template.

In Dong Qichang's (725-785) imitation of Huaisu's (725-785) famous autobiography, the script "Xingcao Poetry Scroll" (collection of the Tokyo National Museum, Japan), the almost thin and thin lines of pen and ink move freely on the paper, creating unexpected, vivid and bold forms.

Dong Qichang's epitaph for the great art collector Xiang Yuanbian (1525-1590) was written by Dong Qichang in his own calligraphy style, without copying any of the styles of previous masters. Dong Qichang's imitation has always been able to blend easily and fluently into the styles of other calligraphers, and these are the most typical characteristics of his personal calligraphy style. In the constant change of thickness and ligature, the handwriting of this work shows self-consciousness, and the connection between the strokes occurs naturally. The interlacing of heavy and light ink handwriting brings a lively rhythm to the overall layout of the work.

Every calligrapher knows the masterpieces of authority, learns them, imitates them. Thus, every calligrapher can judge any other calligrapher by a standard that is consistent with the standards he adheres to in practice. And once the authority of a masterpiece of stylistic and aesthetic standards is established, a game begins in which all participants have to use the same utensils and follow the same rules for hundreds of years. Every calligrapher looks at any work of calligraphy as if he or she were looking over the writer's shoulder, even if they are thousands of kilometers apart and centuries apart.

Moreover, calligraphy also strengthened the interpersonal relationships between members of the cultured elite in the physical sense of the text, as collectors, connoisseurs, and future generations of calligraphers developed the habit of writing their own evaluation of a famous work on it. This brings us to the third part of this article: the dissemination of authoritative works. Only the "Feng Tang Post", which is now in the collection of the National Palace Museum in Taipei, and which is framed in one volume by three pieces of Wang Xizhi's letterhead, is analyzed as a representative work. The text messages contained some of Mr. Wang's personal information. The third letterhead, the "Feng Tang Post", from which the name of the entire volume is named, has only two columns: "Three hundred Feng Tangerine, frost has not fallen, and there are not many of them." ”

Over the centuries, a large number of complex apprecials, including seals, inscriptions, and art-historical evaluations, have appeared around these few columns, almost suffocating the main work. (It would be valuable to identify all the individuals who have left their mark on the works in this volume, as they will allow for a step-by-step trace of the historical fate of the work.) However, this practice requires a great deal of historical and biographical details, which cannot be shown here. More precisely, this article is limited to a few points in the history of the circulation of this volume. After Wang Xizhi, the earliest indication of the fate of this volume is the signatures of the letterhead compartments, which belonged to members of a royal institution in the early sixth century whose responsibility was to carefully identify calligraphic works in the royal collection. These experts use signatures to prove that the work is genuine and of high quality. There are also three authenticity inscriptions affixed to the back of the last letterhead. They were inscribed by experts in court calligraphy during the Sui Dynasty (581-618) in 598 AD.

In 618 A.D., the Tang Dynasty was established by Sui, and there are still 266 pieces of Wang Xizhi's calligraphy works recorded in the records of the Tang Dynasty royal collection. These three letters are also in the bibliographies, but they are separated from each other and are not framed as a single volume. We know that the court would produce copies of Wang Xizhi's calligraphy works in the royal collection and distribute them to the young nobles as learning materials. It is likely that the "Feng Tang Post" in Taipei's collection is one such copy. Wang Xizhi probably did not intend to write three different pieces of letterhead on the same piece of paper. The color and texture of the paper also suggest that the paper may have come from the Tang Dynasty.

Fortunately, a closer look at the handwriting of this work reveals that the strokes are not written by a single stroke of the brush, but the outline of the strokes is drawn first, and then the body of the strokes is filled with many tiny strokes. A microscopic detail is more clearly revealed, and the outlines of the strokes are drawn separately, and they appear to intersect at the tips of the strokes. This detail is a detail of the word "seven" in the inscription of the experts in 598, which proves that these signatures were also copied.

For some readers, it may be disappointing to prove that we are dealing with a mere copy. Actually, this is very commonplace. All of Wang Xizhi's legacy works are reproductions, but that doesn't stop collectors of all ages from acquiring them with deep respect. The question then arises as to how to determine the authenticity of such a work. We are accustomed to believing that the authenticity of a work of art should be in a physical sense, and that the paintings on the walls of a museum should be the work of the artist in a physical sense. In contrast, the physical carriers of Chinese calligraphy scrolls are always changing, and they can be completely replaced, as in the case of the Feng Tang Ti here. Thus, the authenticity of such a work is no longer the physical original, but only depends on the continuity of its tradition, which is confirmed by the imprints and inscriptions of successive collectors.

When the Tang Dynasty fell, this piece was lost from the royal collection. In the centuries that followed, its circulation was unclear. But in 1063, 16 friends watched the scroll and wrote their signatures on it. Among these were the historian Ouyang Xiu (1007-1072), the prime minister Han Qi (1008-1075), and the calligrapher Cai Xiang (1012-1067). These 16 people may feel like each other, so such a set of signatures can tell us about the biographical, political, and social connections between social elites that have not been recorded in history.

At the time of this gathering in 1063, the "Feng Tang Post" belonged to Li Wei, the concubine of the time, and his seal can prove this. Fifty years later, the work returned to the Royal Collection. The art-loving Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty (r. 1101–1125) inscribed his name and stamped it with his own seal.In 1127, the Jin Dynasty (1115–1234) successfully invaded the Great Song Dynasty, and the Song court fled south with a large royal collection. Emperor Gaozong (reigned 1127-1162), who founded the Southern Song Dynasty, also left several court collection seals on this volume. All the works in his collection have been reframed according to the new standards. Previous seals and signatures are often dug up and some are replaced. In the following Yuan dynasty (1279-1368), traces of the work disappeared again, but the volume bears several seals from the private collection of the early Ming dynasty, indicating that it left the court again. It was not until the sixteenth century, however, that the history of the work was rediscovered and continues almost continuously to the present day.

Xiang Yuanbian, the man for whom Dong Qichang wrote his epitaph, made his fortune by running a successful pawnshop, amassing what may be the largest private art collection in Chinese history. He wrote two inscriptions for the volume, one of which stated: He paid two hundred gold for the volume. He also stamped more than 60 seals on the volume, thus completely changing the face of the entire volume. Another collector wrote in 1617 that he had purchased the volume from the Xiang family for 300 gold. Soon several more collectors wrote inscriptions on the volume and left their markings. In the eighteenth century, the work reappeared in the royal palace.

It is no exaggeration to say that the Qianlong Emperor was arguably the greatest art collector in the history of the world, and he collected thousands of paintings and calligraphy works in the imperial palace and spent his life studying these treasures. A detailed bibliography of each of the scrolls in his collection describes each work, and contains more than 21,000 pages (referring to the Shiqu Treasure Collection, translator). The Tatchibana is included in the first part of the book, completed in 1753. Because Emperor Qianlong realized that this work was only a copy, he stamped very few seals on the scroll, and these seals were only stamped between the lines of the original letter, where Xiang Yuanbian had also stamped them. The other scrolls, which Emperor Qianlong regarded as originals, were stamped with hundreds of his seals, and it was clear that he was trying to surpass Xiang Yuanbian.

Emperor Qianlong not only changed the visual appearance of the scroll by stamping, but he also gave the scroll a new look by reframing it. The scrolls were encased in a wooden box, wrapped in yellow cloth representing the emperor, and the frontispiece contained a valuable tapestry with a new ribbon and a jade buckle to protect the scroll when it was rolled up.

The last collector's seal on this volume is that of Emperor Xuantong (reigned 1908-1911). In 1925, when the Royal Art Collection was transferred to the museum, the Western-style concept of a work of art, emphasizing its physical integrity, had taken root in China, and since then no new inscriptions or inscriptions have been stamped on the museum's works. The process of an art scroll growing through attachment and change has finally come to an end.

This brief examination of the 1,600-year history of the Bongyu Paste shows how successive generations of calligraphers have left their mark on the volume. When a sixteenth-century calligrapher affixed his seal to the signatures of 16 connoisseurs in 1063 next to or immediately after the seal of Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty, he established a quasi-physical relationship with them across the centuries. Over time, all the calligraphers who have inscribed on this volume have proved to themselves and their children and grandchildren that they are one in appreciating a work of art that embodies the great cultural traditions of China.

The additions of all the descendants of Wang Xizhi's letterhead, as far as the text is concerned, are merely comments and records of the transmission of this scroll, and the same is true as far as art history is concerned. However, these additions have been visually and aesthetically integrated into this important work, because the medium through which they are composed is also calligraphy. The connoisseurs' handwritings and even the inscriptions on their seals are made up of the same formal system as Wang Xizhi's original letters. The reader's aesthetic appreciation is not limited to the main body of the work, but also includes all the additional elements of later generations. The artistic history of such a work is enveloped in its aesthetic dimension.

It seems that the three characteristics of Chinese calligraphy that we are discussing are characteristic of this art form: the direct connection between the reader and the artist is established roughly through the factors of time and movement; The artistic tradition is unrivalled in terms of technique and style; The special way in which calligraphy works have been passed down through the generations has allowed calligraphy works to evolve and make art history a part of the aesthetic experience. All three characteristics serve a common social function, strengthening cohesion among political elites.

Author(s): Redhou, University of Heidelberg, Germany

Translator and Affiliation: Wu Qiuye, Central Research Institute of Culture and History