My Take on Appreciating Chinese Calligraphy (Part II): Expression, Alcohol, and Transcendence

Let's start with the basics.  Ou Yangxun's (歐陽詢) (557–641) calligraphy is typical style elementary calligraphers.

Notice that the characters are very regular.  The strokes also have a uniform depth, and within each region and aspect of each character, there are vertical, horizontal, and circular symmetry.  The vertical and horizontal strokes bulge and narrow ever so slightly to give characters a sense of fullness.  This is an example of structured and standard calligraphy where effort and a sense of calm is required.

How writers control the brush expresses emotion in calligraphy.  Thick places tell where the calligrapher paused, while thin lines suggest faster movement.

Wang Xizhi's (王羲之) "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion" (353 AD) is the magnum opus of Kaishu script.The original piece was destroyed when a greedy king buried it in his tomb.  The oldest copy of closest to the text dates roughly 300 years after Wang wrote his orginal.  Not only are the words aesthetically pleasing, the meaning behind the text itself inspired me to major in Chinese.

(Source.  The text starts on the upper right corner with "永和")

The text is a description of a gathering of scholars enjoying a fancy drinking game (it involves floating shots down a little stream).  The text was written the moment the calligrapher was with with his scholar friends.  The beginning of the text describes the merriment and bliss the calligrapher experiences, but as the night progresses he questions the insignificance of his spatial and temporal existence. Wang feels the reality of his mortality.  One can imagine the spontaneity and anxiety of his words as the text progresses from right to left.  His words aren't valuable because they fit the standard norms of Kaishu, but its captures and displays what Chinese calligraphy is able to express.

Here is Emperor Huizong's (徽宗) calligraphy:

(Source.  This is the phrase for "parakeet.")

Emperor Huizong of the Northern Song Dynasty (1082-1135 AD) was known for his "slender gold script" (瘦金體).  Notice that his characters are very thin.  Some of his strokes leave residue as he continues to the next stroke.  One calligraphic scholar noted that to accomplish such rapid movement, he must have used only the tip of his brush without pausing very much.  One can read through his calligraphy that he was an impulsive emperor.  Textual evidence of an extravagant pet rock collection confirms this.

The next piece is by a scholar official named Huang Tingjian (黃庭堅), a generation older than Emperor Huizong of the Northern Song Dynasty.  This is beautiful example of grass script (草書).

The calligraphy is now incomprehensible compared to standard Kaishu.  This obviously wasn't used as a means of communication.  This calligraphic form was motivated by the need to express a transcendence of reality.  The words are very fluid, which translates from the calligrapher's very fluid hand movement.  Usually either the calligrapher was really drunk, in a high meditative state, or both.  Not only was alcohol associated with rambunctiousness and high energy merriment in Chinese culture, alcohol was also associated with sophisticated scholarly gatherings and literary composition as we have seen previously with Wang Xizhi's gathering.  Try to imagine a group of American writers from The New Yorker, drinking martinis together as they compose short stories.

One has to see the calligrapher's actual hand movements to really understand the essence of the art of calligraphy.  The act of writing calligraphy is also performance.  Here is the text (Su Shi's "On the Topic of the West Forest Wall" 蘇軾 題西林壁) being written in many different calligraphic styles. (I also love the background people's reactions, especially when the calligrapher stretches the last character.)

Kaishu script:

Cursive script(行書):

Grass script:

Of all the calligraphy I have seen, I will die happy if I ever have the chance to view the following piece in person.  Su Shi's "Cold Food Festival" (蘇軾  寒食帖) was written in 1082 AD during the Northern Song Dynasty.  The piece is currently in the Taipei Palace Museum of Arts.

(Source.  Full scroll here.)

Su Shi was sent to exile for being accused of libel in his published poetry.  The text is about how the passage of time and beauty of spring cannot penetrate the loneliness of exile.  The strokes he uses are thick relative to the size of his characters, and simultaneously the words are very orderly and compact.  Compared to regularity of characters in court documents he wrote, the variety in size and shape emphasizes the distress he feels.  As the text progresses towards from right to left, the words get bigger.  He starts to lose some control of his brush not from dramatic anguish, but from a deep melancholy.  The brush strokes are slower because the strokes get thicker.  It's as if I could see him 1000 years ago, sobbing quietly in pain as he realizes the anticlimax of his life as he fades towards insignificance.  Little does he know that he would be one of the most revered figures in Chinese culture.  At least he's at list a favorite on my list.

Unlike portraiture or a painting, Chinese calligraphy can convey what the calligrapher felt the very moment the characters are written.  Even thought Chinese calligraphic works are only humble pine soot and paper, it reminds us that the length of individual human legacy is not defined by what one owned or the popularity during one's contemporary time.  Rather we remember how others made us feel.  Chinese calligraphy in it's most basic form is an art form that expresses the human condition.