thang ka – THE VAN MANEN PROJECT

What’s in a Name? Reviewing Kangchenjunga in Word and Image

Summary[1]

In Part I of this blog post, Peter Richardus presents a survey of Johan van Manen’s contributions to a published debate on the etymology of the term ‘Kangchenjunga’, designating the third highest mountain in the world. In Part II, Nils Martin describes the iconography related to this sacred mountain range as depicted on a painting once privately owned by Van Manen. This serves as an example of his written word being strongly connected to his profound interest in Tibetan material culture.

The Kangchenjunga massif as viewed from Gangtok (Sikkim), July 2025.
Photo: courtesy of Tenzin Tsepak.

Part I

In 1916, Johan van Manen (1877-1943) settled in the Darjeeling district (West Bengal) to dedicate himself to the study of Tibetan language and culture. Between 1923 and 1939, he served as General Secretary of the (Royal) Asiatic Society of Bengal in Calcutta, earning recognition among scholars across the globe.

Unsurprisingly, we read about his capacity to present solutions for issues related to Himalayan geography, and in particular here concerning the origin of the name ‘Kangchenjunga’: “The chief authority on the Tibetan language in India is Mr. Van Manen.”[2] Pieter Pott, the first biographer of Van Manen, summarizes this as follows:

When a controversy flares up about the etymological explanation of a mountain, the Kangchenjunga, it is to van Manen, that an appeal is made for a decisive explanation. From the way he does so, we can gather how deeply versed he was in the literature on Tibet and Nepal and it fills one with awe to see how many works he quotes.[3]

Reading Johan van Manen’s published correspondence on the topic,[4] it becomes apparent how he emphasizes the relevance of studying early geographical publications to understand the history of name usage. His modus operandi here includes examining at great lengths the term ‘Kangchenjunga’, as well as recording its various interpretations and explanations.

Van Manen refers to Waddell’s remark that a deity named Kang chhen dsö nga is considered “the chief country god of Sikhim”.[5] To date, this snow-capped abode (h. 8586 m) has proven to be of significant cultural and spiritual importance to the people of Sikkim.[6] Indeed, the Kangchenjunga mountain range continues to trigger numerous multi-faceted interests.[7]

While he was not the very first scholar to correctly establish the etymology of the term ‘Kangchenjunga’, Van Manen presented his readers with an impressive number of publications by both Western and Indian scholars, and he further consulted linguist Dr. S.K. Chatterji to present his views, which several eminent Indian scholars then shared. Thus, his comprehensive conclusion was: “the Sanskrit derivation of the name Kangchen-dzonga has to be given up”.[8]

Interestingly, Johan van Manen also presents the following remarkable snippet of personal communication:

In Darjeeling, I myself heard, amongst soldiers, the name Kitchenjungle, not meant as a joke or nickname, but seriously understood as a place where the vegetables for Darjeeling are grown. I am informed that a more common, but obscene, transformation of the name is also current.[9]

Thanks to references discovered in Darjeeling by his former Tibetan instructor and informant Karma Sumdhon Paul,[10] Van Manen could cite when discussing the spelling of “Kangchen-dzonga” [gangs chen mdzod lnga], two ritual texts titled (a) rdo gling yul lha’i gsol mchod [offering prayers to the sacred tutelary deity of Darjeeling] and (b) dkon mchog spyi ’dus [the embodiment of all the precious jewels], the latter said to contain a prayer (fol. 61, verso) to be addressed to the deity of this mountain.

Surprisingly, however, Van Manen did not fully use some other pieces of information that were collected for him around that time by Karma Sumdhon Paul. These are still to be found in an archive of the Van Manen collection.[11] Dated Saturday, the 11^th July 1931, it is the second of two notes on toponyms from Sikkim and elsewhere in the Tibetan cultural area. It offers two different Tibetan spellings for the name of the Kangchenjunga (gangs chen mdzod lnga, ‘the five great (precious) stores’, and gangs chen rtse lnga, ‘the five peaks’) and elaborates on the first one, listing each of the precious materials the “five stores” of the mountain contain.

Extract of the first page of the second note on toponyms from Sikkim and elsewhere in the Tibetan cultural area by Karma Sumdhon Paul, dated 11 July 1931.
Leiden University Library, Van Manen archive, box 104, file 042.

This note, which consists of 47 entries, ends with an explanation added by Karma Sumdhon Paul four days later, written while he was working at the Asiatic Society of Bengal (A.S.B). There, he stated: “I have worked out the above names as far as I could with the help of some friends and Sikkimite lamas, during my last summer vacation in Darjiling. So I hope this will be of some use to your purposes.” Van Manen likely reviewed this note, as editorial corrections using red and blue pencils elsewhere on the pages suggest. The reasons why he did not fully use it in the correspondence published in The Himalayan Journal remain unknown to us.

Addendum to the second note on toponyms from Sikkim and elsewhere in the Tibetan cultural area by Karma Sumdhon Paul, dated 15 July 1931.
Leiden University Library, Van Manen archive, box 104, file 042.

In sum, Johan van Manen’s knowledgeable linguistic analysis – in combination with the described historical context and local traditions – clearly established that the term ‘Kangchenjunga’ stems from Tibetan, a version of which is spoken by Bhutia Sikkimese (i.e., lho skad), but also that it should be translated as the “Five Treasures of Great Snow”.

Part II

Van Manen’s interest in this topic further appears to be reflected in his collection of objects of Himalayan material culture, most of which were acquired by the Rijksmuseum voor Volkenkunde (the present Wereldmuseum Leiden) in 1948. To be sure, the identification by Pieter Pott, the curator who arranged that acquisition, of a small sculpture in the collection (RV-2739-66) as a representation of “the god of Mount Kangchenjunga […] possibly made of stone from this mountain, of such notoriety to mountaineering expeditions”[12] must be discarded as an obvious mistake.[13] Still, the Van Manen collection does include a representation of that, or rather these gods, in the form of an unusual wooden-framed painting (RV-2740-141), hitherto not correctly identified.[14]

*Thangka* of the Gangs chen mdzod lnga (front), distemper on cotton, 55 x 45 cm, Darjeeling?, early 20th century, Wereldmuseum, Leiden (inv. no. RV-2740-141).
Photo: courtesy of the Wereldmuseum.

This painting depicts five mounted warrior-like wealth deities at the centre and four corners of a landscape of symmetrically-arranged hills and lakes dominated by white peaks. All five deities similarly brandish spears with flags attached to their poles with their right hands and hold vessels filled with blazing gems with their left hands. They wear coats of mail with large mirrors in front of their chests and helmets adorned with flags, typical of Tibetan warrior deities. Only the colors of their skin, armors, and banners, and the species of their mounts differ.

The red deity mounted astride a snow lion at the centre of the painting appears to be the main form of the Gangs chen mdzod lnga, believed by some to be a manifestation of the red spear-holding form of the wealth deity Vaiśravaṇa (rnam thos sras mdung dmar can).[15] The four deities around him represent secondary aspects of his, associated with different riches thought to be held by the mountain. This group is not mentioned in the rdo gling yul lha’i gsol mchod quoted by Van Manen, nor could we find it in the texts of the dkon mchog spyi ’dus in the Van Manen collection so far.[16] However, we find it described in some detail in two copies of the gnas gsol bsdus pa (Abridged prayer to the sacred places) in the Van Manen collection.

As suggested by its name, this text is an abridged version of the famous ’bras ljongs gnas gsol (Prayer to the sacred places of Sikkim), part of the rig ’dzin srog grub (Attainment of the Life of the Awareness-Holders), a liturgical cycle attributed to the Tibetan Rnying ma master and cultural hero of Sikkim Lha btsun Nam mkha’ ’jigs med (1597-1650). The earliest of the two copies is a three-folio traditional Tibetan manuscript of oblong format (dpe cha) in headless script (dbu med).[17] As for the other, it is a 6-page copy of the former in headed script (dbu can) on Western ruled paper dated 1918 and dubbed ‘Ritual for the spirit of Kanchenjunga and other gods’.[18]

As in many other similar cases, this copy was probably made at the request of Van Manen, who was more familiar with the headed script than the headless script. To judge from the writing style, it is likely the Tibetan scribe Phun tshogs lung rtogs, Van Manen’s other Tibetan instructor and informant, who created it. That this happened in 1918 is noteworthy, as Van Manen was still intensively dedicating himself to the study of Tibetan language and culture with Karma Sumdhon Paul and Phun tshogs lung rtogs in the Darjeeling district at that time. His interest in the Kangchenjunga thus appears to have dated back to this seminal period of his life, more than a dozen years before his contribution to the Himalayan Journal on the topic.

In terms of its iconography, the painting of the Van Manen collection corresponds well to the description of the ‘lords of the highlands, the five brothers of the five treasures’ in the abridged prayer. The representation of white peaks, blue lakes, trees, and especially two caves may further allude to the abodes of the local gods in the retinue of the Gangs chen mdzod lnga listed in the abridged prayer.[19] Its composition cannot have been based on that textual source alone, however, since the latter does not go into the detail of the respective positions of the five gods.

This painting is one of two highly unusual ones of the collection, set in wooden frames, that appear not to have been among the thangkas lent by Van Manen to Dutch institutions in 1936 but to have remained with him until he died in 1943.[20] We like to think that it was hung on a wall of his office. Of an almost square format (55 x 45 cm), it was painted on cotton cloth using both natural and artificial pigments such as ultramarine blue and bronzine, a cheap alternative to gold indicative of a modern dating. Judging from its yellowish and highly reflective surface, it was then probably varnished. The painting style is clumsy and surprisingly innovative compared to traditional thangkas. One may note, for instance, the awkward position of the yellow deity perched on the shoulders of a large standing garuda (khyung) rather than gliding through the sky on its back and the unusually naturalistic mountainscape, which evokes certain sights of the Kangchenjunga, Talung, and Pandim massif from Darjeeling and its vicinity. In contrast to most other paintings in the collection, it is thus unlikely that it was painted by a traditionally trained thangka painter.

The label on the back of the frame of the painting.
Photo: courtesy of the Wereldmuseum.

The wooden frames of this and one other highly unusual painting in the collection also set them apart from the thangkas. To judge from the labels on their backs, the wooden frames were set by Ghose & Dutt, picture-framers and photo-enlargers located on 37/1, Free School Street, Calcutta, established in 1922. A reference to their setting, we believe, can be found among the correspondence of Van Manen kept in the archives of the Asiatic Society of Bengal. In a letter dated 28/01/1925 to his friend Percy Brown, then the principal of the nearby Government School of Art, Van Manen wrote: “Thanks for your help in framing my two monstrosities. I am sending Rs. 11/4/0 by your man in payment of the bill, and I add grateful salams.”[21]

What Van Manen, whose correspondence we know to be enlivened by witty, yet self-deprecating, remarks, meant by ‘my two monstrosities’ is of course unclear. Are we to believe that these were his own clumsy creations, or simply that he considered them not up to par with the standards of Tibetan painting, with which he was by then already quite familiar? What do you think?

[1] This is a revised version of a previous blog post of the same name. In addition to the topics already discussed in that previous version, it deals with three archives from the Van Manen collection, kept at Leiden University Library, that shed some more light on Van Manen’s interest in the Kangchenjunga. Our thanks go to our colleagues Berthe, Samten, and Tsepak for having kindly brought these archives to our attention.

[2] S.C. Burrard, A Sketch of the Geography and Geology of the Himalaya Mountains and Tibet, vol. 1, Delhi: Manager of Publications, 1933, p. 30.

[3] P.H. Pott, Introduction to the Tibetan Collection of the National Museum of Ethnology, Leiden, Leiden: Brill, 1951, p. 158.

[4] The Himalayan Journal, 4, 1931-1932, pp. 198-214. https://www.himalayanclub.org/hj/4/20/correspondence/

[5] L.A. Waddell, “Lamaism in Sikhim”, in Gazetteer of Sikhim, Calcutta: Bengal Secretariat Press, 1894, pp. 263, 355.

[6] A. Balikci-Denjongpa, “Kangchendzönga: Secular and Buddhist Perceptions of the Mountain Deity of Sikkim among the Lhopos”, Bulletin of Tibetology, 38.2, 2002, pp. 5-37.

[7] S. Pierce, Kangchenjunga: Imaging a Himalayan Mountain, Aberystwyth: University of Wales, School of Art Press, 2005, pp. 11-25.

[8] The Himalayan Journal, 1931-1932, p. 206.

[9] The Himalayan Journal, 1931-1932, p. 213.

[10] For more information on K.S. Paul, see: P. Richardus, Tibetan Lives. Three Himalayan Biographies, Richmond: Curzon Press, 1998, pp. 73-159; H. Louis Fader, Called from Obscurity. The Life and Times of a True Son of Tibet Gergan Dorje Tharchin […]. Kalimpong: Tibet Mirror Press, pp. 119n, 208-218, 219-222, 486, 548; T. Tsepak, “Modern Encounters: Lhasa Tibetan, Christian Mission Schools, and Religious Conversion in Modern Tibetan Autobiographies”, forthcoming.

[11] Leiden University Library, Van Manen archive, box 104, file 042.

[12] P.H. Pott, 1951, p. 41.

[13] According to the stone carver Pawan Thapa from Patan (personal communication, 28/03/2026), this small sculpture, probably made of stone from the quarries of Dakshinkali as part of a series of the Seven Mothers, represents Narasiṃhī. Similar ones are still being carved.

[14] P.H. Pott, 1951, pp. 98-99, where it is identified as a form of Begtse, while Pott notes that “he seems to be the tutelary divinity of a certain region, and as such he can take the place of the war-like mountain god Gaṅ-c’en mc’od-lṅa (Kangchenjunga).”

[15] R. de Nebesky-Wojkowitz, Oracles and Demons of Tibet: The Cult and Iconography of the Tibetan Protective Deities, Gravenhage: Mouton, 1956, p. 217.

[16] According to the Catalogue of Tibetan Texts in Van Manen Collection, 34 texts of the collection relate to the cycle of the dkon mchog spyi ‘dus, among which the rdzogs pa chen po yang zab bla sgrub dkon mchog spyi ‘dus kyi khrid yig gu ru’i dgongs rgyan nyin byed snying po las rdzogs rim khrid yig khams gsum yongs grol is by far the longest, consisting of 320 folios organized in 29 chapters. See https://catalogue.leidenuniv.nl/.

[17] Leiden University Library, Van Manen archive, box 117, Ms [319].

[18] Leiden University Library, Van Manen archive, box 107, file 149.

[19] For a description of these deities, see also R. de Nebesky-Wojkowitz, 1996, p. 218. Another, more popular group of protectors in Sikkim features, arranged vertically, the same lord of the highlands Gangs chen mdzod lnga, on top, the lord of the midlands Dpa’ bo huṃ ri associated with the Sikkimese mountain of the same name in the middle, and the lord of the southern gate Lcaṃ dral yab bdud, a manifestation of Mahākāla associated with a mountain near Siliguri, south of Sikkim and Darjeeling, at the bottom. For a description of these deities, see R. de Nebesky-Wojkowitz, 1996, p. 219. For an example of their representation, see J. Ardussi et al., The Royal History of Sikkim: A Chronicle of the House of Namgyal, Chicago: Serindia Publications, 2021, figure opposite p. 53.

[20] For more information about this loan, see N. Martin, “On Some of the Finest Thangkas in the Netherlands”, Aziatische Kunst, 55.2, 2025. The other is RV-2740-142.

[21] Archives of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, bundle 401, file 1053, year 1925, accession 1. In the British Indian coinage system, “Rs. 11/4/0” must have corresponded to 11 rupees, 4 annas (16 annas equalling 1 rupee), and 0 pice (4 pices equalling 1 anna), i.e. 11,25 rupees.

A blessed thangka

Thangka of the assembly of the Fifty-eight Wrathful Deities (front), distemper on cotton, 70 x 45 cm (painting), 125 x 75 cm (with frame), Central Tibet, 18th or early 19th century, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (inv. no. AK-MAK-200; on loan from KVVAK).
Photo: courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

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]

The painted cotton canvas. Photo: courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

On the front of the painted cotton canvas, we see the assembly of the Fifty-eight Wrathful Deities (sixty, counting the main couple). Each deity, or group of deities, is identified by a caption written in gold ink. Buddha Heruka and his consort are represented in large dimensions at the centre of the composition, standing on a throne. Before them are displayed gruesome offerings appropriate for wrathful deities: a skull-cup filled with the organs of the five senses and two skulls filled with semen and blood.[ii] Above, the five other herukas and their consorts are displayed side by side in one line, and the eight gaurīs in another line below. On the sides and below the main couple, the eight piśācīs, the four gatekeepers, and the twenty-eight yoginīs abide inside seven sun halos. The piśācīs and the gatekeepers are grouped together in two of these sun halos, while the yoginīs are arranged in the remaining five corresponding to their respective association with one of the four directions or with the gates of the maṇḍala.

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.

The arrangement of the several groups of deities in this landscape is unusual. They are not displayed as a maṇḍala, and the deities composing them follow each other from right to left in two steps (either in two registers placed one above the other or in one register from the centre to the left and from the right to the centre), rather than clockwise or from the centre outward. A pictorial logic is apparent in the choice of the background colors for the sun halos comprising each group of deities, and probably also in the arrangement of the yoginīs of the gates at the greatest possible distance from the yoginīs of the associated directions.

Diagram of the deities’ associated Buddha families. Background photo: courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

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.

The painting is distinguished by its masterful execution. In addition to its well-balanced composition and the subtle harmony of its colours, the great vitality of the movements of the yoginīs and gatekeepers, and the minute attention given to the representation of their animal heads are also noteworthy. The profuse use of cold gilding for the attributes, the ornaments, and the hair or mane of the deities, their halos of light or flames, the solar disks on which they stand, and theinscriptions identifying them, the throne and the lotus seat of the main deity, and the rocky crags of the landscape, adds a lavish aspect to this thangka.

Detail of the eastern group of six yoginīs.

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.

The back of the canvas.
Photo: courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

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:

The consecratory inscription by Gyurme Dechen Dorje. Photo: courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

{1} ōṃ ru lu ru lu hūṃ b+hyo hūṃ

{2} ~/ gdod nas lhun grub rang rig bde chen rtsal /

zhal phyag mtshan ma’i da lar le(gs) shar te /

{3} chos nyid lam gyi ded dpon che ba’i mchog /

lnga bcu rtsa brgyad rten la ye shes byin /

dbob te dad dang {4} dung ba’i snying stobs kyis /

phyag ’tshal mchod pa’i ri mor brtson pa dag /

bar do’i ’jigs skrag {5} me chen ltar ’bar dus /

bde chen bdud rtsi’i char gyis sim par mdzod /

oṃ su pra ti STha ba+dzra ye swā hā /

{6} ’gyur med bde chen rdo rjes so /

Oṃ ru lu ru lu hūṃ bhyo hūṃ

The play of great bliss, reflexive awareness, primordially and spontaneously present,

[Is here] well arisen in the [maṇ]ḍala of [divine] faces, hands, and emblems:

May the blessings of gnosis descend into this receptacle of the Fifty-eight [Wrathful Deities],

With Chemchok Heruka as their leader on the path of reality,

So that those who strive in the image of prostration and worship

With the heartfelt force of faith and devotion

Be satisfied with the rain of the elixir of great bliss

When the terrors of the Bardo blaze like a conflagration.

Oṃ supratiṣṭha vajraye svāhā

[Composed] by Gyurme Dechen Dorje.[vii]

Put in 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.

The name of Gyurme Dechen Dorje is not the only potential clue to identify him. His handprints—those of an adult man—are distinct enough to be used in the future for this purpose, provided that other, more informative thangkas also blessed with the handprints of this master can be located.

The left handprint of Gyurme Dechen Dorje.

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.

The seal impression of Gyurme Dechen Dorje.

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.

The left handprint and seal impression of the second master.

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.

Postscript

While preparing some time ago figures for an article on this painting and another from the Rijksmuseum that were once in the Van Manen collection,[x] I experimented a bit more with color enhancement for the back of this painting, and was astonished by the result. A third handprint, which I could not make out until then, now appeared clearly in the middle of the canvas. This discovery calls for a reinterpretation of the series of handprints, seal impressions, and the inscription presented in this blog.

The back of the canvas (modified colours).
Non-modified photo: courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

To judge by its faded condition, and its rather central location, the newly discovered handprint may be the oldest of the three sets. The seal impression marked with what appears to be a letter sa at its centre, which I previously linked to the inscription above it, is located at the base of this handprint and must have in fact served to establish its accuracy and add up to its blessings in the same way as lower pair of seal impressions for the associated handprints. The inscription itself appears to have been written over the newly discovered handprint and may therefore be the result of a later blessing, given at a time when the latter handprint had already faded. If so, identifying Gyurme Dechen Dorje, the master who composed that prayer, could only provide us with a rather late terminus post quem. As for the uppermost set of handprints, which is much more vivid than the other two today, it may have been applied at the same time as the inscription.

[x] See Nils Martin, ‘On Some of the Finest Thangkas in the Netherlands’. Aziatische Kunst 55, no. 2 (2025).

What’s behind a thangka?

Photomontage of the backs of four different thang kas in the Van Manen collection
Photographs ©Ernst Molenaar

Tibetan Buddhist scroll-paintings, or thangkas (thang ka), 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 posts aims at introducing what literally lies behind a thangka.

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 thangkas have ended up during the 20^th 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 thangkas, 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. Thangkas 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 thangkas 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 thangkas that I have documented in such contexts 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.