Stretched on a Frame of Boundless Thought:
Contemporary Religious Painting in Rebgong

By Rob Linrothe

"I, the yogin Tsogdruk Rangdrol Picked up a white canvas - noble intention. I stretched it on the frame of four boundless thoughts, And with pure discipline I primed it. I applied gesso - changeless faith - Smoothing it over and over With an onyx stone - the ten virtues.

First I made the grid - learning. Then I made a sketch - reflection. Then I brushed in color - meditation. Then I painted in highlights - meditation experiences and realization. E ma! Isn't that good art? (Shabkar [Matthew Ricard, trans.], The Life of Shabkar, Ithaca, 2001)"

Padmasambhava and his Copper Mountain Pure Land Amdo painter, name not documented `Thangka' in Nyingma Longchen Nyinthig set, 1943-58 Height 81.9 cm, width 59.6 cm

An extraordinary renaissance of Tibetan painting is under way in Rebgong, a large county in the northeast of the region known to Tibetans as Amdo (see map). Rebgong artists are recovering a tradition jeopardized by the disruptions of the second half of the twentieth century. They are renewing aesthetic trends laid down in the 1940s and 1950s, at the same time subtly innovating and improvising. The movement involves both monastic and lay painters, sometimes working side by side (Fig. 1), and is bound up with the Chinese state's toleration, however reluctant, of religious expression by Tibetans in Qinghai province. This painting revival is powered by the force of Tibetan religious devotion, pent up for three decades. Its release has fuelled an unprecedented demand in Amdo for works of religious art, and artists have responded by rapidly developing their artistic skill through its exercise. Their paintings, produced mainly for an indigenous monastic `market', are once again earning attention and appreciation beyond the borders of Rebgong. Amdo was incorporated into formal Chinese administration during the early Republican period. Much of it now forms the Chinese province of Qinghai, named after the `Blue Lake' (Mongol: Kokonor) that dominates the landscape in the north, although parts of Amdo are also within the province of Gansu. Qinghai is populated by Mongols, Monguors, Hui, Han Chinese, and the largest group, Tibetans. Since at least the eighteenth century, Rebgong has been a famed regional centre for Tibetan Buddhist art. This artistic reputation was intertwined with the prestige of its Gelug monasteries and Nyingma practitioners. Then as now, Rebgong's artists were called upon to decorate Amdo's numerous monasteries, travelling long distances to spend the summer painting and sculpting in monasteries which supported and directed their efforts. The best known of these Gelug monasteries are the Kumbum (Ch. Taersi), associated with the birth of Tsongkhapa (1357-1419) and near to which the present Dalai Lama was born, and Labrang (Ch. Labuleng Si), which is now just inside Gansu. Within Rebgong proper, the Rongwo Gonchen (Longwu Si) and Sengge-shongmago (Ch. Wutun Xiasi) are also regionally prominent. One contemporary example of a distant monastery that once again commissions Rebgong painters is Chemre, south of Kokonor, which monks are now rebuilding after its destruction three decades ago. For the last few years, artists from Sengge-shongmago have been travelling each summer to Chemre to paint murals such as those in Figures 7 and 8. However, the renown of Rebgong painters at one time spread even beyond Kokonor, and the names of the artists reached the ears of high lamas in Lhasa and Tashilunpo. They were brought to š and Tsang in central Tibet to paint murals and hanging `thangkas' and to teach other painters the Rebgong style. In fact, both the Eighth and the present Dalai Lama employed painters from Amdo. Although Rebgong artists of previous centuries wrote treatises on painting and iconometry which still circulate, and students of post-eighteenth century Tibetan painting frequently run across Rebgong in lists of important Tibetan painting schools, the character of Rebgong painting has remained relatively unknown outside northeastern Tibet. It has been something of an `empty category': until recently, few works appeared with a documented Amdo provenance. This gap in our knowledge is compounded by the terrible destruction of hanging paintings and murals which took place from the early 1950s, intensifying in 1958. By the time of the Cultural Revolution (1966-76), most of the major monastic groupings of sculptures and paintings had already been destroyed, the important monks imprisoned, the people forbidden to practise Buddhism openly and the artists unable to paint religious icons. From 1982, however, when the freedom to practise religion was legally restored, the movement to restore, rebuild and expand the monasteries of Amdo has been gathering momentum. Artists who came into their maturity in the 1950s were able to bridge the gap between the generations. One example is the lay painter Gyamsho, now aged 84, who is given the respectful Chinese title `Dashi' (`Great Master'). Although their ranks are dwindling now, in the late 1980s and early 1990s Gyamsho and his colleagues created an impressive body of masterful works, both murals and `thangkas', which have served as treasured models for younger artists (Figs 2 and 3). These elders have acted as mentors, passing along high standards, technical methods and sets of iconographic drawings which they recreated based on their own earlier training. Younger painters and sculptors like the monks Shambaja and Dundrup Gyatso, in their early thirties, along with Shambaja's younger brother Tserang Dundrup (also a monk) and Shawo Tar, both in their twenties, are now coming into their own with local and regional recognition (Figs 4 and 5). Dundrup Gyatso and the brothers Shambaja and Tserang Dundrup are all from the most renowned artists' village in Rebgong, Sengge-shong (Ch. Wutun), the acknowledged centre of the original movement and its renaissance. Sengge-shong and three other villages in the immediate vicinity are noted for their many artists. Indeed, it seems that in every household in these villages, an artist or two lives and works. Older people interviewed at Sengge-shong affirm that this has been the case since they themselves were children. The nearby town of Rongwo (Ch. Tongren) also has a government-sponsored art centre where accomplished lay artists are given funding and gallery space to promote their painting. But in spite of government attempts to foster a somewhat more secularized version of the art as `minority handicrafts' with both propaganda and economic potential (through tourism), the religious context of the art, its subject matter, producers and mode of exchange remain monastic. Tibetan Buddhism is still the determining factor in the creation of the art boom. The Tibetan indigenous demand for painting of strict religious orthodoxy and of equally rigorous quality has been intense, providing a powerful stimulus for the rapid restoration of Rebgong's traditional status as a regional painting nexus. Like the poem above by Shabkar, himself a Rebgong native trained in art, the spiritual is inextricably interwoven with the painting.

Presently it is possible to document the work of three generations of Rebgong artists and to compare contemporary output with an important cache of paintings which survived the destruction. This trove, secretly hidden from the authorities in a location which I cannot divulge, consists of works painted between 1943 and 1958. (Author's note: After this article was written, the author returned to Rebgong in January and February 2002. The owners of the cache now recall that some of the paintings may have been painted by a relative, now deceased, who lived in the adjoining prefecture to the east, Gannan, to which many Rebgong artists were regularly brought and commissioned to paint and sculpt. Thus even if not all these works were painted in Rebgong or by Rebgong artists, they still shed light on the pre-Cultural Revolution regional style.) They constitute an important comparative benchmark, and one example is published here for the first time (Fig. 6 and 6a; see also the `Himalayan Art' website at himalayanart.org, where eighteen are available as paintings nos 90142-90159). On the basis of these works, which document a continuity between pre-1958 and post-1985 painting, we can begin to recognize traits that were probably also found in early twentieth century Rebgong painting, and perhaps even earlier. The accompanying illustrations were chosen to show the visual characteristics of the painting, but they also give a sense of the rich variety of religious themes in Rebgong art. A regional style is made up of a cluster of traits, some of which may not be unique to a specific locale. This is the case with Rebgong painting. Taken individually, many of the particular tendencies may be found in painting from other regions. The directions Rebgong painting has taken can also be traced to the painting of other regions and earlier periods, though here we must tread cautiously, since so little is known about earlier Rebgong painting. We cannot rule out the possibility that Rebgong painters `contributed' to the formation of other styles, rather than merely receiving or copying aspects which we now associate with other styles. Still, it is useful to compile a group of traits, for, taken together, they describe a profile of contemporary painting. Such a list for Rebgong painting would include the following: fine line work, distinctive use of light tonalities and colour contrasts, generous use of gold for outlining and ornamenting, exquisite detail and dense patterning, selective realism, restricted use of motifs and manners derived from non-religious popular illustrations, characteristic landscape patterns, visually assertive ornamentation to figural nimbi, and a workshop manner of repetitions of compositions and motifs (for more detail, see Linrothe, `Creativity, Freedom and Control in the Contemporary Renaissance of Rebgong Painting' in `Tibet Journal', forthcoming). There is an emphasis on fluid and articulate line, which is particularly clear in the responsive clarity with which the outlines of figures and garment patterns are bounded (Fig. 7, see especially the side faces). The lines are sensitive to and suggestive of volume, direction and movement. They form expressive boundaries, but of the unmodulated, `iron-wire' variety. The underdrawing is similarly executed in fine, dark, even lines, utilizing the same iconometric canons standard in late Tibetan religious painting. Probably the most recognizable characteristic of contemporary Rebgong painting is the particular vividness of its tonal effects. The best of the art attains something of a dynamic equilibrium through juxtaposing mid- and light-range colours to achieve a vibrating overall tonality. Most of the individual colours tend to be rather light-hued, sometimes even in pastel shades. These are quite different from the deep, rich, gold-edged greens one associates with the Menri styles, or the brilliant reds, greens and blues of the Karma Gadri styles of Tibetan painting. The pervading effect is of an intense saturation and lively, sometimes restive, activity. The complementary contrasts of orange and blue, and red and green, are brought into a state of `simultaneity' for the viewer, an effect well suited to religious art. An example of the lightening of shades is found in the colour of the sky, which is often much paler blue than is found in earlier painting. Indeed, skies tend to be lighter even than most of the paintings from the preceding period (1943-58). (Compare Figs 2, 4 and 8 with Fig. 6.) There is typically a dramatic gradient that starts with the palest of blues at the horizon line and ends at a deep cerulean at the very top. The head nimbus of the pacific deities is usually green in a rich but not dark tone, sometimes even a lime green. It is left as a solid hue, without gradient, and at most given an outer border lining or gold band - sometimes two (see Figs 4, 6a and 7). This plain area provides a still point within the distinctive shimmering body nimbus, to which more painterly attention is given. Frequently the body nimbus is formed of radiating and undulating bands of pastel green and blue alternating with red and orange, across which fine lines of gold are drawn with care (see Fig. 4a). Every other gold line oscillates in a tight wave-form, so fine and densely packed that they almost obscure the colour beneath with an effect of dazzling, pulsing gold. Alternatively, the outer border is surrounded by a raised pastiglia gold border with painted curling tendrils (see Figs 4 and 7). The effect of this mixing of colours is of warm, glimmering radiance quite distinctive to Rebgong painting. It is visually intense while remaining warm in tonality, and adds to the cumulative effect of heated middle-range colours. This treatment has its roots in pre-1958 painting, as some datable examples attest (see Fig. 6a), but it has been so frequently utilized by Rebgong artists working in the post-1980 period that it becomes one of the signature visual characteristics of Rebgong painting. Gold is used liberally and in several different ways. There are large blocks of painted and burnished gold, on which lines in red and spots of other colours are applied to create crowns, necklaces, bracelets or cloths. Outlines of nimbi, rocks and sometimes figures are painted in gold, then provided with an outermost rim with a concentric fine black line. Pastiglia covered with gold, as in Figures 3 and 7, is surprisingly common both in `thangkas' and murals. Finally, gold is used to make fine patterns on plain areas of solid colour, creating illusions of patterned fabric, metalwork, offerings and precious objects such as `chintamani' (see Figs 3 and 6a). Rebgong painters are nearly as obsessive about the fine details as they are about the density and variety of patterns. The results in the best paintings are kaleidoscopic (see Figs 2, 3 and 6). The artists clearly vie with one another in creating inventive garment patterns, combining them in such ways that they seem not to repeat, and taking advantage of the synergistic effects of pattern and colour contrasts. Here too, the intrinsic radiance of gold is exploited to the full. Although the fineness and complexity of detail is surely a function of patronage - the occasions or contexts for which the work is intended obviously affects how much labour goes into the execution - there is an impressively high minimum standard in works produced by artists at the middle and upper levels of the (subjective) aesthetic hierarchy.

Like all great artists, the best of these painters are alive to their own work and attentive to it during the process of painting. Although motifs, compositions, iconometric proportions and many other mannerisms are instilled in younger painters as they study techniques with their teachers and execute large commissions in bodies of organized artists working together, this is not to say that their art is repetitive or lacks creativity. The artists `perform' the score, but are free to innovate embellishments, to add, perfect, amplify, multiply, reduce or transpose features. Surprising details reward close examination. Among the unexpected features encountered are examples of selective realism. Some objects interspersed in Rebgong compositions are rare in the repertoire of traditional Tibetan painting. By selective realism, I mean something deeper than inventive motifs. A few artists incorporate a different mode of depiction in rendering certain objects, or in certain areas of their compositions. Take, for example, a mural behind the huge Maitreya statue in the Shamba Lhakhang (Maitreya Hall) in Sengge-shongmago Gompa (see Fig. 5). It was painted by Dundrup Gyatso, a young artist who strikingly combines traditional and contemporary painting techniques. The overall theme of the mural is the Tathagata Nageshvara-raja, the `King-Ruler of Nagas' (not shown). On the offering table below the Buddha are two flower vases, a tray of fruit offerings and other treasures. Several of the objects on the table cast shadows. Additionally, the tray and two vases are painted with a chiaroscuro effect to give the illusion of embossed designs. The fruit is also painted volumetrically, and the throne lions and curved legs of the table have highlights. The level of realism or illusionism exceeds the naturalism regularly found in post-eighteenth century Tibetan painting. Although such images are compelling, this is still art based on art. All creative artists search for effective ways to communicate visually with the intended viewers of their work. The Rebgong artists are no different from their historical predecessors in `borrowing', adapting and transforming visual modes from China, Nepal or India. The situations differ only in that the twentieth century exposed Tibetan artists to a greater array of possibilities. The objects depicted illusionistically present the viewer with the novelty of realism, but are not so much `about' the objects themselves, or the process of perception and representation, as they constitute another means to convey the conviction of the presence of the deity in this world, or, if you will, the reality of the deity's supernaturalism. One of the pleasures of looking at a large group of Rebgong paintings is finding these isolated, selected elements which Rebgong artists incorporate into the apparently pliant traditional framework of Tibetan religious painting without disrupting it. In Rebgong, artists are accomplished enough, and the monastic community is apparently secure enough, to allow some of its members to selectively integrate non-traditional modes. One of the distinctive features of Amdo Rebgong painting documented from the mid-twentieth century is the treatment of landscape. In general, it shares the landscape schema, found in most post-eighteenth century religious painting, of blue sky in the top half or third, green landscape in the lower half or two thirds, mountain peaks joining them, and a small body (or bodies) of water incorporated at some place in the landscape background or foreground. The landscape below the sky is often structured into a V-shaped composition, with the central deity looming towards the picture plane at the centre, intersecting earth and heavens. There is also frequent use of flat-topped plateaus supported by sharply constricted hourglass-shaped rocks contoured and coloured and in the blue-green manner, as in the depiction of Padmasambhava's Copper Mountain Pure Land in Figure 6. Within this schema, many Rebgong paintings have a particularly generous expanse of water with a decidedly rope-like surface, hard-edged convolutes in clouds of pink, green and blue (see Figs 2, 6 and 8a), and faceted cliffs with scalloped perimeters outlined in gold and black, curved or even splayed fan-like at the top (see Fig. 2, lower left corner). The rock forms are built up by coordinated sets of similarly sized units, but with slightly different axes. They tilt, reorient to the horizontal as if to form caves, or are scooped out to suggest Chinese scholar's rocks. These forms and the blue-green colouring ultimately derive from Chinese landscape painting, though probably not through direct knowledge of its conventions. Rather, they owe much to the long legacy of Tibetanized Chinese mountain forms in the blue-and-green manner familiar from the other regional centres of Tibet. Another tendency in contemporary Rebgong painting is the artists' propensity to give prominence to the central figure by dramatically emphasizing the nimbus. There is no single method through which this is accomplished, and each type of frame or nimbus is closely calibrated with the class of deity being represented. In almost every case, the result is the same: the framing device is enlarged and visually assertive. Examples illustrated include the elaborate `torana' throne-back with a panoply of demigods and fantastic beasts behind Shakyamuni in Tserang Dundrup's painting (see Fig. 4). In the case of worldly protectors like Lokapala Virudhaka, Gyamsho paints large-scale roils of smoky clouds churning with skittering flames (see Fig. 2). In the mural from Chemre, Simhamukha has an aggressive curtain of spiky flames which swirl around her (see Fig. 8a). A contained, symmetrical lacy fringe of flame or light, as found in other traditions, seems rarely to suffice. Because the Rebgong backgrounds are much more lightly coloured, the dramatic effect of the nimbus is heightened. In addition, the nimbus breaks out of an equalizing, balanced frame. The expansion towards the borders takes on a slightly asymmetrical directionality, as if it swells from a force that cannot be contained or controlled. Sometimes it seems as if the deity's frame overwhelms the deity itself, though at its best, the effect is monumental. After observing a large group of Rebgong murals and `thangkas', one begins to recognize the repetition of motifs and entire compositions. There are several reasons for these, just as there are for similar practices in European mediaeval and Renaissance art. In part, they can be considered a natural consequence of the training of Tibetan artists, which involves closely copying the teacher's drawings and compositions as well as mastering the long-established canon of iconometric proportions for each deity or class of deity. Standardization certainly speeds up design and execution at the same time as assuring accuracy. Repeating compositions can also be a kind of homage to one's teachers. And it can be connected to the tendency for some artists or lineage traditions (`workshops') to specialize in particular subject matter. Finally, replications of successful renderings boost their marketability to monastic and lay patrons. In 1998, the monk Kuntup Jya and his father Shawo Tsering were painting in the courtyard of their home in Sengge-shong village (see Fig. 1). A double width of a conventional `thangka'-sized cloth had been stretched in a frame, and they were working together to paint two identical versions of a Vajrabhairava `thangka'. Naturally, joining forces on two identical paintings allows for a certain conservation of time, effort and concentration, from stretching the cloth onto the frame and snapping grid lines to colour preparation and application. Replication of honoured or successful compositions becomes noticeable only after seeing an appreciable number of Rebgong `thangkas' and murals. There is a huge variety of compositions and motifs, as well as repeating ones. Although precise repetitions do occur, and are of interest, the richness and variety comes through as much as the repetition. Within this variety are other general propensities. For example, there is a tendency in Rebgong painting to give special attention to the `yakshas', the earthly spirits converted into Buddhist protectors by the Lokapala and other worldly protectors (Figs 2 and 3). These particular themes tend to be taken up with great glee, and the painter's creative powers and manual skills are lavished on these naughty creatures and the objects in their reach. Many more artists than I have mentioned here are part of this renewal of Rebgong painting. They are working with increasing self-confidence and assurance, with hardly a moment's pause, and without intimidation by judgements of being either `provincial' or `traditional'. They are contributing to the reassertion of Tibetan identity in Amdo, and satisfying an informed demand for religious painting which does honour to the Buddhist `dharma' and to their own values. They take delight in hearing the chorus, which we might join, echoing Shabkar's words: `E ma! Isn't that good art?'