Zhang Daqian: The First Person in Five Hundred Years

In the first installment of what will be a two-part feature, we’ll talk about Zhang Daqian, one of the most acclaimed modern Chinese painters. From the tranquil mountains of his youth to the bustling streets of Shanghai, Zhang carved his destiny with each stroke of his brush.

Transcript

Zhang Daqian: The First Person in Five Hundred Years

In the first installment of what will be a two-part feature, we’ll talk about Zhang Daqian, one of the most acclaimed modern Chinese painters. From the tranquil mountains of his youth to the bustling streets of Shanghai, Zhang carved his destiny with each stroke of his brush.

In the auction market of modern and contemporary Chinese painting and calligraphy, Zhang Daqian has always been a pivotal figure, a name that is impossible to be absent from any season. In this year’s spring auction in Hong Kong held in April, Sotheby’s presented three masterpieces by this master: one was a vigorous landscape in the style of ancient masters, another was a Buddhist portrait copied from Dunhuang murals, and the third was a meticulous portrayal of a woman created in his later years.

Altogether, the three paintings fetched more than HK$126 million. Among them, the Dunhuang copy of Red Robe Avalokiteshvara sparked the most intense bidding. With a starting bid of approximately HK$16 million, it received bids from about 40 buyers and ultimately hammered at HK$65 million, nearly triple its estimated price.

This painting of Red Robe Avalokiteshvara is considered the most mature work among Zhang Daqian’s copies from the Dunhuang period. In the 1940s, Zhang Daqian traveled to Dunhuang to copy murals for two years, a journey that can be seen as a turning point in his artistic career. He studied the elegant lines and ancient colors of the Dunhuang Buddha statues, which is evident in his later meticulous paintings that bear the influence of Dunhuang murals.

In the painting, the Buddhist holds an object in one hand and a willow branch in the other, standing on a lotus pedestal with a graceful and fluid posture. The painting measures an impressive 188cm, possibly the same size as the original mural. The pigments used for coloring, such as lapis lazuli, malachite, and cinnabar, still retain their vividness even after 80 years, appearing as fresh as ever. It is considered one of the best paintings of Zhang Daqian, a most well-known modern Chinese painter.

Zhang Daqian was born in 1899 in Neijiang of southwest China’s Sichuan Province, which is relatively close to Chongqing. When he was in middle school, his family sent him to study at Jiangjin Middle School in Chongqing. He had 10 older brothers and one sister, and he was the eighth among the boys. In those days, with so many children in the family, the fact that Zhang Daqian could afford to go to school indicated that his family lived under good economic conditions. Indeed, they were considered a scholarly family.

Usually, when Zhang Daqian went to study in Chongqing, he either took a boat or a car. However, one year when his school was on vacation, Zhang Daqian and a few fellow townsfolk discussed and decided that instead of repeatedly taking either a car or a boat, they would walk back home. They thought it would be a good opportunity to explore the mountains and rivers along the way. At that time, they were around 17 or 18 years old, full of energy, with a typically adolescent kind of rebellious spirit and simply fond of having fun. When Zhang Daqian proposed the idea, everyone readily agreed.

It was precisely this spontaneous decision to walk back home that led to trouble. It was the year 1916, five years after the fall of the Qing Dynasty, China’s last dynasty, and warlords were controlling different regions, leading to widespread banditry. As you may have guessed, the students encountered several groups of bandits along the way. Initially, things seemed fine; the bandits, seeing a few young kids, probably assumed they didn’t have much money and let them pass.

However, they encountered another group of bandits that had more sinister intentions. They knew these kids were studying in Chongqing but hailed from Sichuan, so it was assumed their families were wealthy enough to afford their education. They skipped the part of robbing them and went straight to kidnapping, tying them up and taking them to their hideout in the mountains.

Once they were in the bandit stronghold, the leader of the bandits prepared paper and a pen and instructed, “Since you’re all students and can write, pick up the pen and write a letter to your families, telling them to bring 3,000 taels of silver for your release.” After all the letters were written, those bandits who could read took a look at them. They were worried the kids might write something incriminating, so they carefully inspected each letter. When they came across the letter written by Zhang Daqian, they chuckled. “This kid is clever,” they said. “He’s quite diplomatic. He didn’t mention that we’re kidnappers. Instead, he talked about befriending some heroes.”

Impressed, the bandit leader engaged Zhang Daqian in conversation and found him to be knowledgeable and articulate despite his young age. He was brave too, showing no fear even after being captured by the bandits. At this point, the bandit leader had an idea. “We’re lacking in education here,” he thought. “These students are clearly more educated. Zhang Daqian’s handwriting is better than most. How about this? Instead of going back, you can stay with us and work as our scribe and forget about going back to your studies.”

From being a mere “ransom” to becoming the “scribe” for the bandits, Zhang Daqian found himself in a situation that was both amusing and frustrating. Yet, he had no choice but to agree; when under someone else’s roof, one must bow their head (as the saying goes). And so, Zhang Daqian embarked on his journey as a bandit.

However, being a bandit meant one couldn’t just eat without contributing. One day, during a raid on a wealthy household, Zhang Daqian was told to participate in the robbery instead of just observing. The bandit leader told him, “You can’t just stand there. You have to take part in robbing this house.” Zhang Daqian responded, “What should I steal?” The leader replied, “It doesn’t matter. Just grab anything.”

The bandit leader thought to himself, “If the authorities catch us later, Zhang Daqian can claim he didn’t do anything, and he’ll be clean-handed. But when the time comes, he’ll surely spill the beans about everything he knows.” This situation resembled the scenario in the classic Chinese novel Water Margin, where Wang Lun instructed Lin Chong to kill someone as a form of initiation into the bandit group.

Zhang Daqian didn’t dare to refuse. Inside the house, while glancing around, he noticed a book. Thinking, “I can steal anything,” he decided to take the book. However, when the bandit leader saw that Zhang Daqian had taken a book, he was furious. This was like admitting defeat. He scolded Zhang Daqian and ordered him to go back and steal something else. Reluctantly, Zhang Daqian returned. He noticed several calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls. Since he couldn’t take a book, he thought, “Maybe I can take these paintings without any trouble.” He quickly rolled them up and brought them out, fulfilling the bandit leader’s “glorious task.”

Back at the hideout, Zhang Daqian laid out the paintings and calligraphy. He began to ponder: “I’m used to writing, but these paintings are exceptionally well done. How are they created?” This marked the start of Zhang Daqian’s artistic enlightenment at the age of 17, inside a bandit’s den. It was quite serendipitous. And as is common practice within bandit strongholds, there are places for holding captives, somewhat like a “dungeon.” In this particular stronghold, there was a “black prison” where a former scholar of the Qing Dynasty was held. He was educated and had even participated in the imperial examinations. Somehow, he had been captured by the bandits. His family couldn’t gather the ransom money, so he remained imprisoned there.

Every day, Zhang Daqian didn’t have much to do other than delivering food and water to the former scholar. Both of them felt lonely, and seeing that they were both students, Zhang Daqian asked the scholar about his background. Upon learning that the scholar was an accomplished individual, proficient in calligraphy and painting, Zhang Daqian began to discuss art with him, and within the confines of the bandit’s hideout, they talked quite extensively. 

It was this scholar who enlightened Zhang Daqian, teaching him about the intricacies of painting, how to appreciate different aspects such as perspective – what constitutes near, far, and deep; how to depict views from different angles – upward, downward, or at eye level. The scholar also imparted to him some traditional Chinese painting techniques and methods of appreciation.

In the end, it wasn’t long before the government sent troops to wipe out the bandits, capturing everyone, including Zhang Daqian. When questioned, Zhang Daqian explained that he was just a student who had been kidnapped and brought to the hideout. His family was promptly informed, and his elder brother came to take him home. Looking back, Zhang Daqian realized that he had spent exactly 100 days in the bandit’s den. This hundred-day stint as a bandit marked the beginning of his artistic enlightenment.

Upon returning home, Zhang Daqian immersed himself in the study of painting, becoming increasingly passionate about it. His family, reflecting on the ordeal Zhang Daqian went through while studying in Chongqing and being kidnapped by bandits, concluded that it was too risky to continue his education in China. They decided to send him to Japan for further studies in textile weaving and dyeing. The plan was for Zhang Daqian to return home and start a textile factory, utilizing the family’s resources. And so, in 1917, Zhang Daqian went to Japan for his studies, where he spent a total of four years.

During his time studying abroad in Japan, something happened back home that compelled Zhang Daqian to return to China without hesitation. What was it? Zhang Daqian had an engaged cousin named Xie Shunhua who was only one year older than Zhang, and they had been childhood sweethearts with a deeply affectionate bond. While Zhang Daqian was attending a private school, his studies were overseen by his second elder brother. Once, when Zhang Daqian couldn’t remember the content of a certain text, he saw Xie Shunhua outside the window raising her hand, upon which she had written the answer he needed. This incident illustrates the strong bond between them since childhood.

However, during Zhang Daqian’s time studying in Japan, his cousin Xie Shunhua passed away due to illness. Her sudden death devastated Zhang Daqian emotionally. He felt utterly disheartened, thinking, “What’s the point of studying or learning any craft when the love of my life is gone?” Driven by grief, he hastily returned to China and sought refuge in the Zen Meditation Monastery in Songjiang, Shanghai, intending to become a monk.

Indeed, becoming a monk was not a decision one could make lightly, and it still holds true today. In recent years, there have been some online advertisements in China, specifying the requirement of at least a bachelor’s or master’s degree, familiarity with Buddhist scriptures, and other qualifications to become a monk. Back then, aspiring monks needed to demonstrate a strong affinity with Buddhism. If someone expressed a desire to become a monk, they would be allowed to stay at the monastery and engage in tasks like cleaning the grounds, chopping wood, preparing vegetarian meals, and doing laundry. During this time, their commitment to Buddhism and adherence to monastery rules would be observed. Then, after a period of assessment, they might undergo the ceremony of receiving ordination, typically involving burning incense on the top of their heads as a symbol of initiation into monkhood.

Initially, the monastery allowed Zhang Daqian to stay because of his cultural knowledge, and he spent his days discussing Zen and Buddhism with the monastery’s Zen master. Zhang Daqian was quite knowledgeable about Buddhism, having read numerous Buddhist texts, and he could engage in meaningful conversations on the topic. The Zen master saw potential in him and eventually decided it was time for him to undergo ordination. However, when it came to the ritual of burning incense on his head, Zhang Daqian hesitated. He approached the Zen master, expressing his reluctance, questioning the necessity of enduring such pain, and challenging the tradition.

The Zen master was taken aback and responded, “What are you talking about? Since the inception of Buddhism, receiving ordination has always involved burning incense on the head. Why are you objecting?”

However, Zhang Daqian, being well-versed in history, quickly intervened, saying, “No, Master, you’re mistaken. According to my knowledge, the practice of burning incense on the head started during the Southern and Northern Dynasties period, specifically during the reign of Emperor Wu of Liang. It was not a tradition for ordination but rather a practice reserved for condemned criminals.”

Emperor Wu of Liang was deeply devoted to Buddhism and issued a general amnesty, releasing even death row inmates. To prevent them from returning to their criminal ways, he sent them to temples to become monks and receive Buddhist teachings. After shaving their heads, they would be indistinguishable from other monks. To mark them as former criminals, they would burn incense scars on their shaven heads as a form of branding. This practice served as a distinguishing mark, much like how characters such as Song Jiang and Wu Song in the Water Margin were branded by the imperial court for their crimes, indicating their criminal past.

This is indeed a historically recorded fact. Zhang Daqian, being well-read and knowledgeable about such matters, engaged in a debate with the Zen master. Unable to refute Zhang Daqian’s argument, and unaware of this historical detail, the Zen master waved his hand dismissively, saying, “Regardless, these are the rules. If you want to stay in the temple and receive a dharma name, you must abide by them.”

But at that time, Zhang Daqian had already been given a dharma name, “Daqian.” His original name was Zhang Zhengquan. Inspired by his experience in the temple, he adopted “Daqian” from the dharma name as his own name later on. Hence, the name “Zhang Daqian” originated from this.

Upon hearing the Zen master’s insistence, Zhang Daqian shook his head and expressed his unwillingness to undergo the ritual. He couldn’t bear the thought of enduring such pain, especially for a practice reserved for criminals. When the day of his incense burning ceremony arrived, he fled from the temple. Outside, a friend advised him to return to his hometown, but Zhang Daqian was reluctant. Instead, he suggested they travel elsewhere for a while, and they agreed to meet at the station in a few days.

On the agreed-upon day, Zhang Daqian waited at the station, but his friend didn’t show up. Instead, his elder brother arrived. It turned out that his friend had betrayed him, informing his brother that Zhang Daqian was at the station, pretending to be a monk and planning to leave the area again. This infuriated his elder brother. Instead of studying diligently in Japan, Zhang Daqian had secretly returned to China to become a monk. His brother promptly took him back home and gave him a good scolding. Zhang Daqian realized that his stint as a monk lasted exactly 100 days. So, in the span of 100 days, he experienced life as a bandit and a monk – a truly legendary journey.

Well, that’s the end of our first podcast about Zhang Daqian, and we’ll present the second half next time. Our theme music is by the famous film score composer Roc Chen. We want to thank our writer Lü Weitao, translator Du Guodong, and copy editor Pu Ren. And thank you for listening. We hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please tell a friend so they, too, can understand The Context.