Worshiping the Ancestors: Chinese Commemorative Portraits- Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Exhibit Washington DC ends 9/9/2001
Walter Lee
Jo Ann Lewis. The Washington Post Monday, June 25, 2001; Page C01
http://washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A41257-2001Jun24.html
Anyone who cherishes a photograph of a deceased parent or close relative has experienced the magic
of such images. We may not set up altars before them, or burn incense, as Chinese tradition demands,
but we revere such likenesses in our own ways, giving them special places in our homes and sometimes
burning memorial candles. Mostly, however, we use them to evoke fond memories.
The Chinese have a far more profound connection to their ancestors. Most believe that if properly
worshiped and tended to in private family rituals, the spirits of ancestors can intervene on their
behalf to bring health, prosperity and children who, presumably, will someday honor their parents in
turn.
The Sackler Gallery's illuminating new show, "Worshiping the Ancestors: Chinese Commemorative
Portraits," includes 38 portrait scrolls from the past five centuries, most painted specifically for
use in ancestor worship. It is a thought-provoking show, filled with fascinations that include not
only the debut of the Sackler's rare collection of ancestor portraits -- acquired by happenstance in
1991 -- but also examples of the kinds of exquisite embroidered robes and textiles, jewelry,
furniture and ritual objects that appear in the paintings. The majority depict members of the Qing
(pronounced Ch'ing) imperial families and military and civic elite who ruled China from 1644 until
the revolution of 1911.
The result is a multifaceted show that tells us as much about Chinese social and cultural history as
it does about Chinese art. For instance: If you think we live in status-conscious times, laden with
gold Rolex watches and BMWs, the codification of status symbols among the inhabitants of Beijing
during the Qing dynasty will lend perspective. There, rank determined everything, including the
color you could wear: bright yellow for an emperor, golden yellow for an heir apparent and tawny
yellow for countless princes and consorts. Military officials wore embroidered badges featuring
animals that signified their rank, from lion down to sea horse. This code has greatly aided scholars
in identifying the subjects of these portraits, or at least their status.
The show begins with a pair of ancestor scrolls from the mid-18th century, representing Prince
Hongming and his wife, Princess Wanyan, in what was, by then, the standard pose: strictly frontal,
nearly life-size and seated in an elaborately carved chair draped in brocade or fur, a lavish carpet
at their feet. They wear identical semiformal winter dress, fur-trimmed robes with elaborate
embroidered dragon insignia that proclaim the prince's status. The only differences are
gender-related: The woman's feet -- considered the most erotic part of her body -- were always
hidden. Likewise, hands were mostly hidden. Both subjects wear long jade bead necklaces; the
princess wears an elaborate headdress with gold and pearl phoenix ornaments and three earrings in
each lobe, the Manchu Qing dynasty fashion.
While these flat, highly stylized costumes tell us about status, the most important part of the
portrait is the face, which both individualizes the ancestor and lifts him to the realm of icon.
Great care is taken to show the physiognomy, despite the detached, otherworldly expression that
ultimately distinguishes all ancestor portraits. Capturing a likeness was crucial: It was said that
if even one hair was wrong, all future prayers and messages, like errant e-mail, might go to the
wrong ancestor.
Since many such portraits were painted posthumously, facial features posed a special problem for the
workshop artists. Sometimes life portraits could be used as models, especially for the royals.
Often, however, these anonymous artists had to depend on a quick look at the corpse, or on
descriptions of family members who resembled the deceased. They also showed relatives books of
drawings illustrating various types of eyes and other features, much like the mug books used today
by police to create composite images. One such book is in the show. Photography later largely solved
the problem and the images became increasingly photographic.
This is all fascinating. But, after a while, these ancestor portraits begin to look pretty much
alike -- which may explain why they've been ignored for so long by academics in the West, who deemed
them inferior to Chinese landscape painting. The aesthetic demanded of these works -- the aloof,
iconic, otherworldly look -- is the exact opposite of what Western eyes have come to admire in
portraiture: a sense of the living, breathing human with real emotions.
As a result, the most satisfying paintings in this show, at least to Western eyes, aren't ancestor
portraits at all but a group of living portraits made at the Qing court in the 18th century for
purely mundane reasons. They may borrow some of the conventions of ancestor portraiture -- thus
justifying their being shown here -- but they are far more approachable and endearing.
"Portrait of Hongyan, Prince Guo," for instance, shows the eager-beaver half brother to the emperor
seated before the baroque doorway of the emperor's Italian-style villa outside Beijing. The earnest
young prince was obviously proud of the invitation to his brother's country place and wanted it
known, just as we might ask to have our picture taken in front of the Parthenon.
"Portrait of the Qianlong Emperor in Front of the White Pagoda" is another 18th-century charmer, in
which the relaxed emperor rides through the imperial city astride a horse with remarkable
come-hither eyes. He looks straight at the viewer, as if at a camera. There is some question about
the subject's identity, but the watch dangling from his belt reinforces the belief that he was the
Qianlong emperor, who had a passion for Western watches.
There are other wonderful paintings in this section of the show -- a poet sitting cross-legged on
his desk, a courtesan seductively holding an orchid. The rarest painting is "The Qianlong Emperor as
the Bodhisattva Manjusri," made at the imperial workshop in the mid-18th century in the style of a
Tibetan Buddhist thangka painting. The beautifully rendered face is by Giuseppe Castiglione, an
Italian Jesuit then in residence at the court. One of eight paintings in the world showing this
enlightened emperor as the universal monarch, it was recently purchased at auction by the Freer, the
Sackler's sister institution.
The rest of the portraits in this show -- including the most endearing ones -- came from a single
remarkable source: New Mexico horse-breeder Richard G. Pritzlaff (1902-1997). In 1989, out of the
blue, Pritzlaff called Sackler curator Jan Stuart (he'd seen her name in the New York Times) to
offer his collection of Chinese portraits to the nation. "I was dubious about his claims, which were
grandiose," recalls Stuart. "He claimed to have a collection that would change the perception of
Chinese art." Stuart asked him to send photographs, which he did. The curator then went to examine
them firsthand. "When I saw them in the flesh, I realized these were pretty impressive images, and a
better quality of ancestor portraits than I had seen in other Western collections," Stuart said.
A deal was struck, and in 1991 Pritzlaff donated half of the appraised value of the works to the
Sackler, with a Smithsonian acquisitions fund ponying up the rest. The collection arrived at the
museum in late 1991, and since then Stuart and her colleagues have been researching and restoring
the paintings, many of them in disrepair. When a large number of the subjects turned out to be
members of the Qing dynasty, the Sackler invited Evelyn Rawski of the University of Pittsburgh, an
expert on the Qing imperial families and institutions, to serve as co-curator of the exhibition. The
result is a show and superb catalogue that have advanced scholarship, redefined the genre and, as
Pritzlaff foresaw, changed Western perception of Chinese art.
Worshiping the Ancestors: Chinese Commemorative Portraits, at the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery,
Independence Avenue and 12th Street SW (near the Smithsonian Metrorail station), through Sept. 9,
after which it will travel to other U.S. cities. Free. 10 a.m.-5:30 p.m. daily, and Thursday
evenings until 8 p.m. during the summer. For information call 202-357-2700 or see www.asia.si.edu
© 2001 The Washington Post Company