Photographs ©Ernst Molenaar
Tibetan Buddhist scroll-paintings, or thang kas, are traditionally focused on the images of deities painted on higher-than-wide, rectangular strips of cotton, which are then framed with fabrics that leave their reverse visible. This first of a series of blog post aims at introducing what literally lies behind a thang ka.
When thang kas are displayed in their cultural context, hung on the walls or pillars of a temple or private shrine room, one can rarely observe their backs. The same holds true in Western museums, where countless thang kas have ended up during the 20th century. In these institutions, worn-out frames, or thang mtha’, were often removed or hidden by folding them inward for aesthetic reasons, and the paintings accommodated in Western-style frames. In some cases, fragile paintings were further glued on stronger supports using the marouflage technique.
For these practical reasons as well as aesthetic ones, the reverse (and frames) of thang kas have not received as much interest as they deserve. A notable exception is the exhibition The Flip Side, curated by Christian Luczanits at the Rubin Museum of Art, which exhibited both sides of a selection of thang kas, statues, and initiation cards (tsakli) with elaborate backs. You can have a look at the exhibition display here.
The reverse of thang kas can bear multiple inscriptions and marks. Some were made by their painters, such as the seed syllables oṃ āḥ hūṃ often inscribed to infuse the painted figures with the enlightened Mind, Speech, and Body before their consecration by a Buddhist master. Others such as aspirational prayers and handprints could be added as blessings by eminent masters approached by the owners of the paintings. Thang kas that were conceived as a set were also often inscribed on their fronts, backs, or frames with the positions in which they should be placed when displayed together.
This does not mean that thang kas that do not bear any of these marks were not created or used in a traditional context. To be sure, a significant number of the thang kas that I have documented in such context do not bear such marks. Conversely, we may expect Tourist and forged art to bear such marks for the sake of matching the expectations of potential buyers.
In the Van Manen collection, most thang kas have fortunately kept their original frames and their reverse is thus visible. In this series of blog posts, I hope to explore those illustrated above as well as others. From pasted letters of a Dalai Lama to inventory post-it notes by an assistant of Johan Van Manen, they feature on their backs documents, inscriptions, and marks of great interest for provenance research.