Tag: Peaceful and Wrathful deities

The first case study that I present in this series of blog posts about what’s behind a thangka may catch your attention as much for the informative blessings on its back as for its fine painting technique and elaborate iconography. It is a scroll painting of the assembly of the so-called Fifty-eight Wrathful Deities on loan to the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam from the Vereeniging van Vrienden der Aziatische Kunst (Society of the Friends of Asian Art, VVAK; AK-MAK-200).

From the little we know about the collecting strategies of Johan Van Manen, it is probable that this thangka was bought from an antique shop in Calcutta or acquired in the Darjeeling region, perhaps through one of his Tibetan-speaking collaborators. This must have happened between his arrival in Northeastern India in 1916 and 1936. In 1936, Van Manen returned from Calcutta to the Netherlands, for a period of six months, to restore his health, which had been in decline the past few years, and to visit his relatives. He probably also intended to take this opportunity to raise interest in Tibetan culture among his fellow countrymen and therefore brought with him aboard the ship most of his collection of thangkas. Once in the Netherlands, he loaned twenty-one of the finest pieces of this ensemble to the VVAK, and the rest to the Museum Volkenkunde (now the Wereldmuseum Leiden).

The thangka presented here was included in the loan to the VVAK. It was immediately exhibited at the Museum voor Aziatische Kunst in Amsterdam among the other masterworks held by that society. In the few years following the death of Van Manen in 1943, the work received significant attention. Pieter Pott (1918-1989), curator of the Asian department of the Museum Volkenkunde, used it to illustrate his article on the visions of the intermediate state between death and rebirth (bar do), and Herman Visser (1890-1965), curator of the VVAK, lauded it as “one of the finest Tibetan paintings in Europe, perhaps the finest.” When the heirs of Van Manen offered to sell his collection to Dutch institutions, it was one of only two thangkas purchased by the VVAK, the other being a fine thangka painted on a black ground (nag thang).[i]

This divine assembly is set against a harmonious land- and skyscape influenced by Chinese painting styles. In the lower half of the composition, green meadows surround a large body of water agitated by rolling billows. There converge two streams flowing between green-blue rocky crags. In the upper half, a dark-blue sky is covered by three-lobed cumulus clouds. Above these, a pale clear sky extends uninterrupted.

Together with the assembly of the Forty-two Peaceful Deities, to whom a counterpart of this thangka may have been dedicated, the assembly of the Fifty-eight Wrathful Deities forms one of the most important iconographic themes of the Nyingma (rnying ma) school of Tibetan Buddhism, and the basis of various rituals. Different versions of these assemblies exist, which are held to have been either transmitted orally from the time of the Tibetan Empire (bka’ ma), or concealed before its collapse and later recovered as treasure-texts (gter ma). Regardless of their transmission, all of them may be considered to derive from the Secret Womb Tantra (Guhyagarbha Tantra).

The iconographic details of the assembly under discussion, such as the skin colours of the deities, their various types of human and animal faces, and their attributes, compare only distantly with those prescribed in the commentaries of the Secret Womb Tantra known to me.[iii] Their representation is closer to the related cycle of the Profound Dharma of the Peaceful and Wrathful Deities of the Self-Liberated Wisdom Mind (zab chos zhi khro dgongs pa rang grol) revealed by the Nyingma treasure-recoverer Karma Lingpa (kar+ma gling pa; 1326-1386), commonly abbreviated as the Karling Zhitro (kar gling zhi khro). This cycle is well-known outside the Tibetan cultural area for the instructions on Liberation through Hearing during the Intermediate State (bar do thos grol), which it includes. Interestingly enough, Van Manen is known to have corresponded with Walter Evans-Wentz about the first English translation of these instructions, which was prepared by Lama Kazi Dawa Samdup and subsequently published by Evans-Wentz under the title The Tibetan Book of the Dead. However, the question of whether the assembly under discussion is based on the Karling Zhitro remains unresolved. Indeed, the absence of wings on the back of the herukas and the unusual trampling of two buffaloes by Buddha Heruka—a symbol of victory over death generally reserved for the deity Yamāntaka—may be indicative of another tradition.[iv]

There is little evidence on the front of the painting to establish its date and provenance precisely. In the absence of a traceable lineage of transmission for the religious practice associated with the depicted assembly, we can only resort to stylistic analysis. In spite of significant advances brought in the last decades by David Jackson and others, however, the different regional painting styles incorporating elements of Chinese landscape that developed in Tibet from the 15^th century onward remain difficult to distinguish from each other.

As most thangkas produced in Tibet or its surrounding areas during the last three centuries, this one may be considered to illustrate a variety of Menri (sman ris), a style whose creation is attributed to the painter Mentangpa Menla Döndrup (sman thang pa sman bla don grub; active second half of the 15^th century), or New Menri (sman ris gsar ma), a later iteration of the latter style by the artist Chöying Gyatso (chos dbyings rgya mtsho; active mid-17^th century). Details such as its dark blue sky, its clouds deprived of dark ‘eyes’ (sprin mig) at their centre, and the grouping of three of the five skulls adorning the diadems of the herukas suggest that it may relate more closely to the foremost painting style of Tsang (gtsang), the western region of Central Tibet, during the 18^th-19^th centuries, known as Tsangri (gtsang ris).[v] Others like the pointed halos of the eight gaurīs are unusual. While Pott estimated that this thangka was probably not painted before the late 18^th century,[vi] I would not rule out a date earlier in the 18^th century.

This impression is further enhanced by its opulent mounting of Chinese brocade. The cotton canvas is bordered by two different strips of orange and yellow fabrics imitating a halo of light (’ja’ dmar gser), which are patterned with various offerings, auspicious symbols, and dragon medallions. The top, sides, and bottom of the frame consist of a fine golden brocade ornamented with two types of large pale and blue flowers resembling chrysanthemums. Also noteworthy are the knobs ending the rod sewn at the bottom of the mounting to roll it with ease and to stabilize it when on display. Silver and gold were used to embellish each of them with elaborate geometric designs centred on a Shou sign. As in the case of most thangkas, a yellow silk cover patterned with auspicious signs protects the painting.

The reverse of the painting, richly framed by a red cloth lined with gold threads, is equally interesting as it attests to the ritual use of this thangka and bears evidence to uncover its dating and provenance.

Indeed, in addition to the usual seed syllables oṃ āḥ hūṃ written here in Vartu script at the level of the main figure’s forehead, throat, and chest to infuse it with the awakened Mind, Speech, and Body, we immediately spot two vermillion left and right handprints, occupying the upper half of the canvas, and a long Tibetan inscription with a seal impression, occupying most of its lower half. When looking carefully, two other seal impressions can be seen at the bottom of the canvas. With a little imagination, we can even discern the shape of another right-handprint in the bottom right. Colour enhancement analytical tools, fortunately, help to get a clearer picture of these faded traces– it reveals a corresponding left-handprint at the bottom left.

Before carrying out further analysis, we may already suspect from the balanced composition formed by the upper pair of handprints, the Tibetan inscription, and the seal impression immediately below it that these are the marks of a single blessing received by the patron of the thangka from an eminent Buddhist master. The lower pair of handprints, each marked by a seal different from the one used above, most likely results from another blessing. If we consider their position on the canvas, we may further speculate that, despite their more faded condition, these latter marks were applied at a later stage than those above them, where space was left.

The Tibetan inscription written at the centre of the canvas in dbu med script is especially noteworthy. As in many instances, it is a consecration prayer for the sake of the patron of the painting. It starts with the invocation mantra of the fifty-eight wrathful deities and ends with another one requesting that they remain in this receptacle:

Put it non-Tantric terms, this prayer praises the painting as an appropriate, consecrated receptacle of the assembly of the fifty-eight wrathful deities, and wishes that, thanks to commissioning it and making offerings to it, its patron may be at peace during the intermediate state between death and rebirth.

Gyurme Dechen Dorje, whose name ends the prayer, must have composed it for the consecration of the painting, before applying his hands smeared with vermillion on it as an additional blessing. The impression of his seal below the inscription, a feature more often found at the end of official documents than on the reverse of thangkas, may be considered in this case to signal the completion of the consecration ritual and to authenticate it.

Identifying Gyurme Dechen Dorje is arguably the key to uncovering the provenance and dating of this thangka. As is also evident from the use of red ink for his seal impression,[viii] he must have been an eminent Buddhist master of his time. Unfortunately, I was not able to pinpoint a single master of that name active in the 18^th or first half of the 19^th century, so far. From among the masters who bear similar names around that time, foremost is Orgyen Terdak Lingpa Gyurme Dorje (o rgyan gter bdag gling pa ’gyur med rdo rje; 1646-1714), the founder of Mindröling (smin grol gling), an important Nyingma monastery in Central Tibet. Others figure among his successors at Mindröling Monastery, and the Mind and Speech incarnations of the Nyingma treasure-discoverer Pema Lingpa (pad+ma gling pa; 1450-1521) at Lhalung Monastery (lha lung dgon). It is well possible, however, that, in contrast with the latter masters, the figure we are trying to uncover was not publicly known as Gyurme Dechen Dorje but had received this name in the context of a tantric initiation to a practice such as those centred on the assemblies of the Peaceful and Wrathful Deities.

What is more, the design of his seal is recognizable as a crossed-vajra with five-pronged endings marked with what appears to be a letter sa at its centre. It strongly recalls the seals used by the enthroned masters of the Sakya school (sa skya khri ’dzin) over the 18th-20th centuries, for instance, on a document of the Berlin State Library. Despite the great efforts furnished by Dieter Schuh and other scholars toward a systematic presentation of seal impressions, I could not find any exact comparison for it so far, leaving some doubt as to whether Gyurme Dechen Dorje was a Sakya hierarch.

As for the faded handprints and seal impressions from another Buddhist master at the bottom of the canvas, they offer more limited evidence for provenance research. The design of the seal used to mark the handprints, however, is worth illustrating and describing here for future reference. Of quatrefoil shape, it appears to feature within a square made of ornamental scrollwork on the sides of which are interlacing knot patterns a central swirl (dga’ ’khyil). This swirl may allude to the letter sa, as in the cases of some seal impressions of the enthroned masters of the Sa skya school.

Thangkas bearing on their backs as many marks of blessings are extremely rare, and this one would have therefore been all the more precious and difficult to part with for its Tibetan owner. On that matter, Roerich notes:

“Those who have collected Tibetan paintings know how difficult it is to obtain good specimens. A Tibetan will never part with a thaṅ-ka, especially if it is consecrated by some high lama and has the imprint of the lama’s hand on its reverse side. […] To induce a Tibetan to sell a painting to non-Buddhists or, as they are called in Tibetan language, ‘outsiders’ (Tib. phyi-rol-pa, pron. či-rol-pa, is almost a hopeless task. Most of the paintings found in European public and private collections have been thrown on the market as the result of recent wars and upheavals in Tibet, which brought the destruction of several lamaseries and the ruin of rich families, which were in possession of numerous religious paintings.”[ix]

In this context, researching the provenance of such blessed thangkas is all the more important. Fortunately, in our case, the marks of the blessings received by the thangka provide a wealth of information with the potential to secure its provenance and to set landmarks for the study of similar artworks lacking such information. Further research is needed to confirm its probable association with the Sa skya school.

---

[i] A paper on the thangkas of the collection loaned to the VVAK will be published in the next issue of the journal Aziatische Kunst.

[ii] On their symbolism, see Robert Beer, The Encyclopedia of Tibetan Symbols and Motifs, 1st ed. (Shambhala, 1999), 264.

[iii] For a comparison of the assemblies of the Secret Womb Tantra, the Karling Zhitro, and other related traditions, see Henk Blezer, Kar Gling Zhi Khro: A Tantric Buddhist Concept, CNWS Publications, vol. 56 (Research School CNWS, School of Asian, African, and Amerindian Studies, 1997).

[iv] I am indebted to Matthew Kapstein for notifying me of this unusual detail. As suggested to me by Lopön Dorji Gyaltsen (Loden Foundation), it could also be considered as a mistaken interpretation of the Karling Zhitro by the artist:

“The liturgical text includes a line (byol song gtso bo rin chen brag / pad+ma nyi steng gsal bar bsgom /), which indicates that the herukas stand upon animals, precious gems, cliffs, lotus, and the sun. Furthermore, one of the commentaries elaborates on this by identifying the animals specifically as khyu mchog, ma he, gzig, stag, dom, and so on. It also explains how the heruka wrathful deities stand upon particular thrones depending on their direction—associating various animals, precious objects, or seats with different herukas. Importantly, the commentary clarifies that these animals are not meant to be zhabs mnan (trampled underfoot), but rather form part of the throne or pedestal.

This suggests that while some iconographic trends later began depicting animals as zhabs mnan, this was not the intended convention in the original liturgical sources. Based on this, it seems likely that the depiction of the oxen as zhabs mnan in this thangka is a later iconographic error, though it still situates the image firmly within the Kar gling zhi khro tradition in terms of overall structure and elements.”

[v] See David Jackson, The Place of Provenance: Regional Styles in Tibetan Painting [Exhibition, New York, Rubin Museum of Art, from October 2, 2012 to March 25, 2013], Masterworks of Tibetan Painting Series 4 (Rubin Museum of Art, 2012).

[vi] Pieter H. Pott, ‘De “Ars moriendi” van Tibet’, Phœnix: maandschrift voor beeldende kunsten 1, no. 9 (1946): 8.

[vii] This translation was kindly provided by Matthew Kapstein.

[viii] I am indebted to Anna Schneider for this information as well as for rich conversations on seal impressions.

[ix] George Roerich, Tibetan Paintings (P. Geuthner, 1925), 20.

---