Religion and Nature in Oriental A rt
each guild with twelve thousand houses for its
workmen and a “palace of the king who fled, him
who was Emperor of Manzi”—the greatest palace
in the world—- “For you must know that its
demesne hath a compass of ten miles, all enclosed
with lofty battlemented walls; and inside the
walls are the finest and most delectable gardens
upon earth, and filled too with the finest fruits.
There are numerous fountains in it also, and lakes
full of fish.
In the middle is the palace itself, a great
and splendid building. It contains twenty great
and handsome halls, one of which is more spa-
cious than the rest, and affords room for a vast
multitude to dine. It is all painted in gold, with
many histories and representations of beastsand
birds, of knights and dames, and many marvellous
things. It forms a really magnificent spectacle,
for over all the walls and all the ceilings you see
nothing but paintings in gold. And besides these
halls the palace contains one thousand large and
handsome chambers, all painted in gold and divers
colours.”
No wonder Marco Polo was impressed, for this
was Hang-Chow, still reflecting the glories of those
kings who had fled—the Sung Emperors of China.
They had been overcome in 1264, just a few years
before, when Peking became the capital. Theirs
was an age characterized by what may be called
its “modern” spirit. Hang-Chow was a magnifi-
cent capital, rich and sophisticated, its inhabi-
tants clad in silk as befitting the pre-eminence of
the centre of Chinese culture.
Here was a worthy setting for an art which
represented a continuous development of 3,000
years, and for a school of painting, always the
last branch of the fine arts to mature, which we
can carry back a thousand years before the time
of Giotto. It was then that Chinese refinement
reached its final flower. The preceding Tang
Dynasty (618-906), China’s first great era, was
the time of her greatest external and internal
growth, and of a grandeur in art never again
equalled. But Chinese civilization was perhaps
riper and more sophisticated under the Sung
emperors, even though Tartar hordes were already
threatening in the North. The conquering Mon-
gol, or Yuan regime (1280-1368), witnessed the
last blaze of the real Chinese genius. The suc-
ceeding Ming period, a native Chinese Dynasty
(1368-1644), though prolific, was only a pale and
decadent reflection of earlier grandeurs they tried
too conscientiously to revive. The decline be-
came complete under the Manchus.
The dynasties which had preceded the golden
ages of Tang and Sung stretched back to a dim
era, when the Chinese were a pastoral people with
a simple art allied to that of the other primitive
folk who lived about the Pacific Ocean. The re-
semblance of the decorations on the beautiful
bronze vessels of the Shang and Chou eras, which
are just coming to light; to the interweaving
banded animal forms of the South Sea Islands,
and, on the other side of the Pacific, of the Alaskan
Indians, and the Aztec and Mayan civilizations,
could hardly be chance.
Later came traces of Western art. In the
bronzes and pottery of the Han Dynasty (255
B.C.-221 A.D.), equal in grace and refinement to
the best of Greece, we can trace, in the winged
bull and lion and the Persian tree of life, the in-
fluence of Mesopotamia and Syria. Even more
interesting were traces, shown in the sculpture of
the period just preceding the Tang Dynasty, of
the Greek art left in Northern India by Alexan-
der the Great. It was only a passing influence,
however, and left little trace upon the farther
East, except perhaps a greater freedom, particu-
larly in the treatment of draperies.
There is a mystery in our long ignorance of this
art. We have known and appreciated the crafts-
manship of the East; we have loved their por-
celains, their bronzes and their fabrics; but we
have never seemed to glimpse the whole of which
these were a part. Self sufficient, we have fol-
lowed a group of paths which led only in one
general direction, while our Oriental friends have
travelled another way. The ultimate goal we shall
find the same. It remained for Whistler, and a
few other discerning spirits, to make a break,
away from our conventions, and to be almost the
first to appreciate the real charm and force of the
cheap wood-block prints of the Japanese lower
classes, the dying ripples of the great art of the
East. But he knew nothing of the great aristo-
cratic art of China and Japan. That, until very
recently, was a closed book. It is fortunate that
just in the nick of time certain foreigners, par-
ticularly Professor Ernest Fenollosa, who finally
became Minister of Fine Arts in Japan, revealed
to the Japanese the richness of their own treas-
ures, and inspired a revival of their great tradi-
tions.
There is promise for the artistic future of Amer-
xLvni
each guild with twelve thousand houses for its
workmen and a “palace of the king who fled, him
who was Emperor of Manzi”—the greatest palace
in the world—- “For you must know that its
demesne hath a compass of ten miles, all enclosed
with lofty battlemented walls; and inside the
walls are the finest and most delectable gardens
upon earth, and filled too with the finest fruits.
There are numerous fountains in it also, and lakes
full of fish.
In the middle is the palace itself, a great
and splendid building. It contains twenty great
and handsome halls, one of which is more spa-
cious than the rest, and affords room for a vast
multitude to dine. It is all painted in gold, with
many histories and representations of beastsand
birds, of knights and dames, and many marvellous
things. It forms a really magnificent spectacle,
for over all the walls and all the ceilings you see
nothing but paintings in gold. And besides these
halls the palace contains one thousand large and
handsome chambers, all painted in gold and divers
colours.”
No wonder Marco Polo was impressed, for this
was Hang-Chow, still reflecting the glories of those
kings who had fled—the Sung Emperors of China.
They had been overcome in 1264, just a few years
before, when Peking became the capital. Theirs
was an age characterized by what may be called
its “modern” spirit. Hang-Chow was a magnifi-
cent capital, rich and sophisticated, its inhabi-
tants clad in silk as befitting the pre-eminence of
the centre of Chinese culture.
Here was a worthy setting for an art which
represented a continuous development of 3,000
years, and for a school of painting, always the
last branch of the fine arts to mature, which we
can carry back a thousand years before the time
of Giotto. It was then that Chinese refinement
reached its final flower. The preceding Tang
Dynasty (618-906), China’s first great era, was
the time of her greatest external and internal
growth, and of a grandeur in art never again
equalled. But Chinese civilization was perhaps
riper and more sophisticated under the Sung
emperors, even though Tartar hordes were already
threatening in the North. The conquering Mon-
gol, or Yuan regime (1280-1368), witnessed the
last blaze of the real Chinese genius. The suc-
ceeding Ming period, a native Chinese Dynasty
(1368-1644), though prolific, was only a pale and
decadent reflection of earlier grandeurs they tried
too conscientiously to revive. The decline be-
came complete under the Manchus.
The dynasties which had preceded the golden
ages of Tang and Sung stretched back to a dim
era, when the Chinese were a pastoral people with
a simple art allied to that of the other primitive
folk who lived about the Pacific Ocean. The re-
semblance of the decorations on the beautiful
bronze vessels of the Shang and Chou eras, which
are just coming to light; to the interweaving
banded animal forms of the South Sea Islands,
and, on the other side of the Pacific, of the Alaskan
Indians, and the Aztec and Mayan civilizations,
could hardly be chance.
Later came traces of Western art. In the
bronzes and pottery of the Han Dynasty (255
B.C.-221 A.D.), equal in grace and refinement to
the best of Greece, we can trace, in the winged
bull and lion and the Persian tree of life, the in-
fluence of Mesopotamia and Syria. Even more
interesting were traces, shown in the sculpture of
the period just preceding the Tang Dynasty, of
the Greek art left in Northern India by Alexan-
der the Great. It was only a passing influence,
however, and left little trace upon the farther
East, except perhaps a greater freedom, particu-
larly in the treatment of draperies.
There is a mystery in our long ignorance of this
art. We have known and appreciated the crafts-
manship of the East; we have loved their por-
celains, their bronzes and their fabrics; but we
have never seemed to glimpse the whole of which
these were a part. Self sufficient, we have fol-
lowed a group of paths which led only in one
general direction, while our Oriental friends have
travelled another way. The ultimate goal we shall
find the same. It remained for Whistler, and a
few other discerning spirits, to make a break,
away from our conventions, and to be almost the
first to appreciate the real charm and force of the
cheap wood-block prints of the Japanese lower
classes, the dying ripples of the great art of the
East. But he knew nothing of the great aristo-
cratic art of China and Japan. That, until very
recently, was a closed book. It is fortunate that
just in the nick of time certain foreigners, par-
ticularly Professor Ernest Fenollosa, who finally
became Minister of Fine Arts in Japan, revealed
to the Japanese the richness of their own treas-
ures, and inspired a revival of their great tradi-
tions.
There is promise for the artistic future of Amer-
xLvni