In an era of unprecedented administrative and cultural sophistication, the Song dynasty (960–1279) brought forth a rich and diverse social life for intellectuals. Such cultured literati, or ‘wenren’, were often government officials as well as avid scholars who expanded the culture of learning and refinement.
In a post-feudal culture that is the Song, explains Martin Powers, Professor Emeritus in the History of Art, and former Sally Michelson Davidson Professor of Chinese Arts and Cultures, at the University of Michigan, a person’s worth came from within, rather than on external factors and material traits such as clothing.
Well-versed in music, poetry, painting, and ‘weiqi’, the strategy board game also known as Go today, the literati had a penchant for gathering with like-minded individuals to drink wine and tea while ruminating on aesthetic, moral, and intellectual pursuits.
Not only were they often depicted in paintings engaging in such activities, Song thinkers used a historicist view of the past to discuss and cite older works, and many paintings of the time are examples that refer to historical anecdotes.
This can be seen in famous Song works such as The Eighteen Scholars, which refers to the historical group scholar-advisors who served Tang Emperor Taizong (626-649) before he ascended the throne, and with whom he shared many cultivated pursuits, such as chess, calligraphy, and painting.
A similar gathering is seen in Scholars of the Liuli Hall, a 13th century scroll painting commemorating a feast hosted by poet Wang Changling. At the party set in a landscaped garden, a man sits reading at a table, next to a Buddhist monk in conversation with the host. Seated around a pine tree, Confucian officials examine a scroll while another is depicted with a brush in hand, lost in thought.
Another painting, Grinding Tea, depicts three men sat in conversation while they wait for their tea to be prepared. Look more closely, and one can notice the distinct ways each individual is dressed: each man represents Confucianism, Buddhism and Daoism respectively, the different factions of religious and philosophical thought that prevailed during the Song. This convergence is a symbol of the ultimate intellectual exchange, and reflective of religious tolerance seen at the time.
“[The literati] emphasized facts and logic over religion, superstition, or even the classics, [and] there was no dogmatic attachment to any particular religion that individuals could make use of all traditions of philosophy as they pleased.”
Martin Powers, University of Michigan
Literati culture also opened up a new dimension in Song paintings with added naturalism and realism.
The Imperial Painting Academy, which became full-fledged during the Northern Song period (960–1127), particularly favored such detail and technique-driven style that was endorsed by Emperor Huizong, himself an accomplished painter.
On the other hand, literati painters also found novel ways to express personal feelings, thoughts, and appreciation of the world around them. Initially called ‘shidafu hua’, or scholar-official painting, such works focused on a subjective, personal, and expressive treatment of reality.
Perhaps the most marked difference between imperial academy painting and literati painting is simply that “the [Song] literati declared themselves to be different,” says Powers. The literati during the Northern Song first challenged the art of the court, he explains, and “from then on, educated people would decide for themselves what counted as good art”. As a result, the Southern Song court paintings also reflected such poetic content, often “performatively”.
“Where a literati painting would be filled with poetic thought and poetic references, Academy painting would show a scholar ‘thinking’ about poetry in nature. The paintings are no less beautiful for that, but they are much less complicated and require less erudition to understand.”
Martin Powers, University of Michigan
For instance, the accomplished Southern Song painter Liang Kai was part of the Imperial Painting Academy during his earlier years, where he showed off his masterful technique in paintings such as Eight Eminent Monks—so exquisitely detailed that the fine brushwork on each fold of clothing, the texture of the rocks, and each blade of grass, can be seen.
Despite being promoted Painter-in-Attendance in 1210 at court and awarded the venerated Golden Belt, Liang refused the position and quit from the Academy to become a Chan Buddhist priest. From then on, his paintings took a turn, with styles reflecting Buddhist ideas such as mindfulness, spontaneity, and enlightenment. In comparison, his famous painting Immortal in Splashed Ink showcases perhaps one of the earliest records of ink-splashing technique, with brief, casual daubs of ink and brushwork.
Self-expressive approaches to art had already begun trending at the end of the Tang, says Powers, with unconventional techniques such as ink washes or using dishcloths and hair already in practice. Compared to their earlier counterparts, he adds, Song artists would instead choose to “focus on their personal idiosyncrasies [...] through brushwork”.
In Song court academy paintings, literati figures were often protagonists, giving us an idea of their way of life and practices. Such intellectuals were often depicted alone with their thoughts while being surrounded by wilderness.
Many scholars were inspired by the story of intellectual recluses such as the famous official and poet Tao Yuanming (365–427), who retired from state duty for a life of drinking wine and writing poetry in the countryside. He retreated to find profound ways to understand the world, learning a deep compassion for nature and mankind as a result.
In the renowned Northern Song landscape painter Xu Daoning’s repertoire, he too chose the lone scholar motif, where a protagonist walks towards a pine tree in meditative contemplation in Holding a Wand Under the Pine Tree. It was also said that Tao Yuanming, the embodiment of spiritual and literary sophistication, often found thoughtful refuge under pine trees, so it is no accident that Xu chose to dedicate a large portion of the canvas to this noble evergreen tree.
The Southern Song artist Ma Yuan also created many works featuring a lone scholar, including Watching the Deer by a Pine Shaded Stream, and Scholar Viewing a Waterfall, both showcasing a pensive literati amongst a lush backdrop of the exquisite gardens and scenic vistas of Hangzhou, where he was based.
Particularly noteworthy is Ma’s Viewing Plum Blossoms by Moonlight, where a white-robed gentlemen looks up towards the moon under a stark plum blossom tree. The composition recalls the dichotomous harmony of a yin and yang diagram, suggesting the metaphysical duality of mankind partaking in but not being confined to the physical world
The subject of Song paintings depicting small individuals—merchants, farmers, fishermen and indeed, intellectuals and scholars—in the midst of wilderness, is squarely a commentary on the interdependence, or harmony, of society and nature, says Powers.
“This wasn't so much a question of philosophical speculation as it was a realistic assessment of what is necessary for people to survive, [... with] evidence of the government working together with nature to benefit the people.”
Martin Powers, University of Michigan
By building up a lexicon of poetic know-how and historical consciousness expressed through motifs and references, paintings during the Song reached—and required—a new level of sophistication to be truly appreciated.
With an increased emphasis on documenting vernacular stories and the lives of the ordinary people, Song-era paintings can tell us a lot about how the Chinese way of life evolved some 1,000 years ago to create a foundation for the way China is today. From the way children played to what people bought at thriving markets; daily diversions to the high arts; fashion to faith, these topics and more can be explored in detail in the art series: The Song, Painted.
The views and opinions expressed by those interviewed are solely their own.