When not travelling to exotic
climes, by far the majority of my time working at the British Museum is spent
at a desk. But every now and then it’s nice to escape the endless emails and
infinitely multiplying spreadsheets and take a look at some of the more
exciting things my colleagues are working on. It is all too easy "to lose sight
of the objects for the museum" when subsumed by the day-to-day drudge of
deskwork. Hence it’s a real treat to leave the computer screen once in a while and
remind oneself what working in a museum is really all about. And sometimes you
find your colleagues are working on something very special indeed. I got one of
those lucky chances around this time last year, when I was invited to take a
closer look at the BM’s magnificent Amitābha statue.
This colossal white marble figure
of Amitābha,
from ancient China, stands in the north stairwell of the BM’s King Edward VII
building, almost 6 metres in height. Ever since I first visited the BM, when I
was around 9 years old, this has been one of my favourite pieces in the Museum.
There is something about the poised serenity and warmth of Amitābha’s face, the neatly composed
folds of the drapery of his robes, and, of course, the pure white brilliance of
the luminous marble from which he has been carved. There are stylistic
parallels to the great cave temple sculptures, conveying here the spiritual
power and the regal majesty of the divine Buddha as cosmic saviour. He looks,
to me, like a giant version of the later elegant ivory-white porcelain blanc de Chine figures for which China
is also famous. Each morning, as I climb the empty stairs on my way to my desk,
and again, as I leave in the evening, I like to say ‘good morning’ and
‘goodnight’ to Amitābha – one
of the first and last familiar faces I see each day at work.
More than 1400 years old, work on
creating this statue of Amitābha
was finished in AD 585 (the 5th year of Kaihuang), during the Sui
dynasty (581-618), shortly before the high era of Chinese Buddhist art flourished
during the T’ang dynasty (618-907) which followed. I’d always been interested
in how this huge work of art had found its way to the British Museum. Its label
states that it was a gift of the Chinese Government in 1938. But it first came
to London and was originally exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1935-1936 as
part of the very prestigious International Exhibition of Chinese Art, which at the time was the largest showing of
Chinese art in the Western world. Thereafter the statue was given to the UK to
mark the success of the exhibition (you can see photographs of Amitābha
at the Royal Academy being installed here and on display here). The importance of that exhibition is still
recalled today, particularly in Taiwan, where the Republican Government of the
time retreated following the Communist Revolution of 1949. Some years ago now,
when working at the National Palace Museum in Taipei, I was intrigued by the very
robust and secure-looking packing cases which the NPM uses to safely transport
their collection; mentioning this to a friend of mine who works at the NPM
he showed me a photograph from a book he’d written which illustrated how
these packing cases were still being made today to a similar design as those first used
to transport the artworks to the London exhibition in 1935; therein lies the ubiquity of good design!
From November 2015 to January 2016
my colleagues at the BM conducted a project of detailed research and comprehensive
conservation on the Amitābha
statue (see here). A series of platforms and scaffolding was erected around the statue
which enabled the very close and intensive work to take place. This research project
enlightened us by answering a number of unknowns about the sculpture, such as hints
towards what would have been its original polychrome appearance. Minute traces still
extant on its surface suggest that the white marble of the robes would once
have been painted a brilliant orange-red with bright green sleeves, similar to
this painting (also in the BM’s collection) of the Buddha (probably Śākyamuni) preaching from
Dunhuang (c.701-750).
I was lucky enough to be invited to
take a closer look at the inscription on the statue’s base. The Chinese
characters are very finely incised, hence they aren’t immediately obvious, but
they can easily be read if a raking light is used. The dedication lists the
patrons who commissioned the construction of the statue of Amitābha for their village temple, called
Chongguang in Hancui. Sadly it’s not been possible to identify Hancui village
today, but it’s thought to have been located somewhere to the southwest of
Baoding in Hebei province, which is a region known for its white marble
sculptures. An article in the recent issue of The British Museum Magazine (see below) gives greater detail and
insights into the sculpture’s cultural background and the science of the research project to clean and
conserve this remarkable embodiment of Amitābha, the bearer of infinite
light.
References
Yi Chen & Tracey Sweek, Bearer of Infinite Light, in The
British Museum Magazine (No. 86, Winter 2016), pp. 44-46
Jessica Rawson (ed.), The British Museum Book of Chinese Art (British
Museum Press, 1992)
Jason Steuber, The Exhibition of Chinese Art at Burlington House, London 1935-36, in The Burlington Magazine (August 2006), pp. 528-536
Fan Liya, The 1935 London International Exhibition of Chinese Art: 'The China Critic' Reacts, in China Heritage Quarterly (No.s 30/31, June-September 2012)
Exhibition Catalogue: International Exhibition of Chinese Art, Royal Academy of Arts, 1935-1936 (see here)