As we pushed against the crush of people crowding into Beijing ‘s Forbidden City, I began to ask myself whether it was all worthwhile – the crowds, our tight schedule, the maze-like layout of this otherwise mesmerising site. Not to mention hauling our Panasonic AG-3DA1 camera with the NanoFlash 3D, a Sony HDR TD10 camera that was intended only for behind-the-scenes shots, and GoPro Hero 3D rig and the assortment of memory cards, batteries, filters, tripods and a monopod that accompany us on every trip.
Suddenly, I had my answer. Our Chinese guide, Michael, pushed us through a series of gates – some of which were so tight they produced a sense of claustrophobia – until we came into an appealing open courtyard. This had to be the intent of the original architects. It couldn’t ‘t be an accident that we found such ready relief from the gates and so immediately saw our spirits elevated. But there was an even greater discovery resting just across from us.
A Master of Chinese Calligraphy
Essentially, what lay before us looked like a studio of some sort. We quickly found ourselves led to the workroom of a master of Chinese calligraphy. Spread out before us, was a beautiful array of silk scrolls decorated with the ancient way of writing Chinese text that has been elevated to an art form. And the master before us had a tale to relate to us that was as fascinating as the calligraphy itself.
According to our host, he had retired from a career in the government to pursue his love of ancient Chinese tradition, in particular his admiration and reverence for calligraphy. And he also claimed an even more intimate relationship to the art. For one of the greatest influences on the development of Chinese calligraphy was the reform measures that Chinese emperors took to standardise the characters. And the elder before us was purported to be a nephew of the last emperor of China, Puyi. Also clustered throughout the studio were photos of the master with several Chinese and foreign dignitaries. This was certainly a far cry from the fate of Puyi himself, who died in relative obscurity in 1967, while facing the wrath of Mao ‘s Red Guards and the Cultural Revolution of the mid 1960s.
The Four Treasures of Study
Chinese calligraphy is as old as China itself, stretching back some 4000 years. Over the millennia it developed many different variations and styles. But it was the intervention of the emperors and the standardisation they imposed that gave calligraphy the firm grounding on which to grow into an established art form. While today it is the handwritten calligraphy that imparts magic and artistry through the ink brush, ink stone, ink, and paper (or the Four Treasures of Study, as they are known), it was the application of printing technology, such as wooden or clay printing blocks, that allowed character standardisation to thrive and a stable set of characters to emerge.
Now, over fifteen centuries after the idea of the Four Treasures of Study had first taken root in China, we were observing the preservation and maintenance of this art form right before our eyes. To Westerners such as we, it was an instruction in the art of patience, detail, and subtlety as much as it was calligraphy. The master, meanwhile, worked with a fluidity and studied control that amazed everyone. Beneath the heavy wooden beams and shadows nesting in the ceiling, we felt ourselves plunged back in time, into an era when the creators of this art followed an exacting regimen to communicate in a fashion that still seems secretive and mysterious to Occidental eyes.
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By: Al Caudullo