Dragons! Elephants! A phoenix! Many motifs cover these tall vases, but it’s the inscriptions that date the pair.

The David Vases, 1351 (Yuan dynasty; Jingdezhen, Jiangxi province, China), porcelain, cobalt and clear glaze, 63.6 x 20.7 cm each (The British Museum, London). Speakers: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris

Illustrated scrolls of an 11th-century tale provide a fascinating look into Heian-period court life, particularly the lives of noble women.

The Tale of Genji illustrated handscroll (Genji Monogatari Emaki, 源氏物語絵巻), c. 1130, ink and color on paper scrolls, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya). Speakers: Dr. Eve Loh-Kazuhara and Dr. Steven Zucker

Azumaya scene (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (源氏物語絵巻), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

The image above, which shows the private lives of female courtiers in the royal palace in Kyoto, comes from the classic story and first major literary work written by a woman (Murasaki Shikibu), the Tale of Genji (Genji monogatari 源氏物語 ). The Tale of Genji was written a thousand years ago, in the first years of the 11th century, and is attributed to a lady-in-waiting at the imperial court, Murasaki Shikibu. The Tale of Genji is a complex novel that focuses on the romantic interests and entanglements of prince Genji and his entourage. It provides a fascinating entryway into Heian-period court life, complete with the aesthetic principles and practices of its residents.

In this image, we see three main female characters from a chapter in the Tale of Genji—Nakanokimi, Ukon, and Ukifune (together with three other figures) seated in a room. 

Nakanokimi, Ukon, and Ukifune (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

A courtly culture

The story takes place in the royal palace in Kyoto during the Heian period in Japan. We see Nakanokimi attended to by her lady-in-waiting who combs her hair while Ukon reads to her. Ukifune, seated opposite Nakanokimi, looks at illustrations accompanying the text being read. Nakanokimi’s face is not visible, viewers are treated to her back profile instead. All the women wear their hair down in a fashion that adheres to the Heian beauty ideal for noble women, but only Nakanokimi’s long flowing black hair is highlighted. This detail emphasizes her high status among the courtiers, and at the same time, heightens the suspense of this private scene.

Dividers (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

Aristocratic women in Heian Japan were forbidden from publicly socializing and were confined to living sheltered lives within the palace. In this scene, several interior devices double as privacy shields within these palatial spaces. The standing curtain (kichō) is erected strategically to obscure the activities of Nakanokimi and her company. The privacy of this setting is further enhanced by rolled curtains that can be lowered to separate the external world, in this case, the garden from the interiors. Just beside Ukifune, sliding doors (fusuma) further close in on the women in the room. The strategic placement of the kichō, the directional gaze of the women, and compositional lines demarcating space in this private room direct our attention to the bottom left of the composition where the three main characters sit.

A National Treasure

Although there are other surviving early Tale of Genji scrolls in different states of preservation, the significance of this scroll lies in its designation as one of the National Treasures of Japan. Apart from it being the oldest depiction of the Tale of Genji in existence, this scroll also stands out for a few notable reasons. The all-women scene serves as a poignant reminder of the role noble women authors had in the blossoming of literature during this period. It also provides an insight into the private lives, social norms, and beauty ideals prevalent in Heian Japan. For all the excitement and drama that the Tale of Genji offers, this particular scene is a testament to the literary contributions of ladies-in-waiting during the Heian period.

Fusuma (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

This particular scroll was once over 1 meter long. While the scroll has deteriorated, we can imagine the original vibrant colors and intricate details that once adorned it. Nature has always been an endearing and inspirational subject to Japanese artists and we see this from the patterns and motifs on the layered kimonos to the landscapes on the kichō and fusuma. These artistic renderings bring the natural world closer into the secluded lives of the women living in these palatial residences.

Kaimami (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

Though they don’t survive in this scroll, illustrations for the Tale of Genji often show men and women interacting or peeping from behind folding screens, partitions, or fences. The act of covertly peeping (kaimami) is presented numerous times throughout the tale, functioning as a precursor to a romantic relationship. This covert behavior adhered to social norms of the time which upheld expectations that women could only be seen by their fathers, husbands, and inner circles. However, this did not mean that intimate relationships did not form—monogamous and polygamous affairs are chronicled in the Tale of Genji.

Ukifune (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

Style, composition, and script

Several stylistic characteristics observed here are consistent with the illustrations of the genre and era. Note how the facial features are similarly drawn with “dashes for eyes and a hook for the nose” in what is known as hikime kagibana. Although this stylization makes it harder to discern the individual traits of characters, readers can place characters with the help of calligraphic passages preceding the illustrations and rely on their familiarity with the text.

An example of fukinuki yatai, here the roof of interior at the left is removed to allow for a view within (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

When portraying the interiors of palaces and residences, a compositional technique called fukinuki yatai is employed. This technique renders the building without its roof and ceiling so that an aerial perspective is possible. 

Hiragana script, Chapter Kashiwagi Ⅱ (detail), Genji Monogatari Emaki (scroll), c. 1130, ink and color on paper, 22 x 23 cm (Tokugawa Art Museum, Nagoya)

One of the significant aspects of the Tale of Genji was that it was written mainly in hiragana (a phonetic writing script based on the sounds of the Japanese language) and kanji (writing script using characters adopted from China) as opposed to it being strictly in the latter, which was predominantly reserved for use in official settings by highly-educated men well-versed in Chinese classics. Hiragana, on the other hand, was more accessible to women and common people. It was considered feminine, with a cursive script often thought to be more graceful than kanji. Women writers in the Heian period, including Murasaki (author of the Tale of Genji) and Sei Shōnagon (author of the Pillow Book), wrote their literary masterpieces in hiragana.

The Tale of Genji comprises 54 chapters and includes around 800 waka. Waka poems were written to convey multiple ideas on religious beliefs, beauty as expressed in nature, the changing seasons, and the transience and impermanence of life (a concept known as mono no aware). Waka was the primary mode of communication between lovers who exchanged them in courtship. The ability to compose waka proficiently enhanced a male courtier’s success at court and in love. Some of these exchanges as imagined by Murasaki are written into the Tale of Genji alongside her compositions as commentary on various events and scenes.

Modern copy of scroll 2 of the Genji Monogatari Emaki rolled up, 1911 (National Diet Library, Tokyo)

Scrolls

Illustrated scrolls or emaki were introduced to Japan from China during the spread of Buddhism. They usually depict historical events and religious teachings or provide social commentary such as that seen in the Tale of Genji. Scrolls became popular during the Heian period due to the rise of Buddhism and an emerging aristocratic class. As Buddhism spread, religious leaders and patrons commissioned literature and art to impart Buddhist teachings.

Modern copy of the Azumaya scene, 1911 (National Diet Library, Tokyo)

As both text and image form an integral part of these emaki, a collaborative effort from several people was required. The scrolls unravel from right to left and narrate a story in a continuous sequence: a piece of text would generally precede an accompanying painting. A calligrapher was in charge of scribing and a lead artist with his team took charge of the illustrations. A lead artist known as the sumigaki (ink line artist) would be responsible for planning and drawing the outlines of the composition. He would then add further details and instruct his team of artists to fill in different areas with prescribed colors. The colors are applied in layers that are built up in a process described as tsukuri-e (opaque colors obscuring the drawing beneath). This scroll was likely part of a series taken out to be enjoyed and put away afterwards. 

There are no fixed number of illustrations or volumes for the emaki as they are produced in accordance with patrons’ requests. In the case of the Tale of Genji, commissions were often requested from some of the more famous and exciting chapters. This deliberate unravelling of the emaki adds suspense and anticipation, much like the thrill felt stumbling onto this private scene of the ladies-in-waiting.

Made in 12th-century Thailand, this bronze Buddha sculpture journeyed to Vietnam where it was unearthed 700 years later.

Seated Buddha, 12th century (Northeast Thailand), bronze (Purchase–Charles Lang Freer Endowment, F1937.29a–d, National Museum of Asian Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.). Speakers: Dr. Emma Natalya Stein, Associate Curator of Southeast Asian and South Asian Art, National Museum of Asian Art, Smithsonian Institution, and Dr. Beth Harris, Smarthistory

Examine this bronze sculpture of the Buddha with us, from its green patina to its fine details. We consider how its design indicates its origins in the Khmer Empire, the journey it took across present-day Thailand to Vietnam, and why it was buried.

This written and illustrated page records a 13th-century Buddhist monk’s dream of meeting Buddha Shakyamuni.

Myōe Kōben, Dream Record (Yume no ki), early 13th century, ink on paper, 30.1 x 51 cm (Purchase–Charles Lang Freer Endowment, National Museum of Asian Art, Smithsonian Institution, F2013.1a–c). Speakers: Dr. Frank Feltens, Curator of Japanese Art, National Museum of Asian Art, Smithsonian Institution, and Dr. Beth Harris, Smarthistory

Join us as we examine one entry from a dream diary written by Japanese Buddhist monk Myōe Kōben, now mounted as a hanging scroll. In this video, we consider the contents of the dream scribed here, the pages’ visual characteristics, and the practice of religious dreaming.

Each perfectly geometric, these mandalas are a graphic representation of the Buddhist conception of the cosmos.

Wangguli and five additional Newar artists, Four Mandalas of the Vajravali Cycle (Ewam Choden Monastery, Tsang Province, Central Tibet), 1429–56, pigments on cloth, 88.9 x 73.7 cm; Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art; C2007.6.1 (HAR 81826). Speakers: Dr. Karl Debreczeny, Senior Curator, Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art and Dr. Steven Zucker

In Buddhism, a mandala refers to a cosmic abode of a deity, usually depicted as a diagram of a circle with an inscribed square that represents the deity enthroned in their palace. Mandalas are used by Buddhist practitioners for visualization during meditation. The Rubin’s Senior Curator Dr. Karl Debreczeny and Smarthistory’s Dr. Steven Zucker delve into one of the most important paintings in the Rubin’s collection, Four Mandalas of the Vajravali Cycle.

The Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art has teamed up with Smarthistory to bring you an “up-close” look at select objects from the Rubin’s preeminent collection of Himalayan art. Featuring conversations with senior curators and close-looking at art, this video series is an accessible introduction to the art and material culture of the Tibetan, Himalayan, and Inner Asian regions. Learn about the living traditions and art-making practices of the Himalayas from the past to today.

This gilded sculpture tells the story of how the goddess Durga brought order to the universe.

Durga Killing the Buffalo Demon (Durga Mahisasuramardini), 12th–13th century, gilt copper alloy; Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art; C2005.16.11 (HAR 65433). Speakers: Dr. Elena Pakhoutova, Senior Curator, Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art and Dr. Beth Harris

Durga is a fierce warrior goddess in Hinduism, whose worship is widespread in the Kathmandu Valley, especially during the fall harvest when Durga rituals abound. The Rubin’s Senior Curator Dr. Elena Pakhoutova and Smarthistory’s Dr. Beth Harris illuminate the story of Durga killing the demigod Mahisha depicted in a dynamic gilded sculpture.

The Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art has teamed up with Smarthistory to bring you an “up-close” look at select objects from the Rubin’s preeminent collection of Himalayan art. Featuring conversations with senior curators and close-looking at art, this video series is an accessible introduction to the art and material culture of the Tibetan, Himalayan, and Inner Asian regions. Learn about the living traditions and art-making practices of the Himalayas from the past to today.

Europe, Africa, and Asia c. 1500 (before the Americas were on the international stage) (underlying map © Google)

Introduction

Many history and art history courses begin in 15th-century Europe (1401–1500). This is because there were significant, global changes during this century, signaling a break with the previous medieval era (also called the Middle Ages, which had lasted roughly one thousand years). The 15th century (1400s) is seen as the start of what is often referred to as the “Early Modern” period (roughly 1400–1800). By labelling this era in this way, historians are using a kind of shorthand to make broad but instructive generalizations. The label is, however, problematic in that it is often used to center Europe pushing other cultures to the periphery of historical focus. Nevertheless, the term remains a useful tool.

Canteen, early 15th century (Ming dynasty, China, Jiangxi province, Jingdezhen), Jingdezhen ware, porcelain with cobalt pigment under colorless glaze, 46.9 x 41.8 x 21.3 cm (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C. Purchase — Charles Lang Freer Endowment, F1958.2)

The end of the 15th century and the 16th century are sometimes called the “age of exploration,” because this period can be seen as the beginning of our modern, interconnected world. We often assume globalization is a 20th- and 21st-century phenomenon, but a close examination of the Early Modern period reveals otherwise. While the term “age of exploration” heroicizes the origins of European colonization and neglects the multidirectionality of global interactions, it can also highlight longstanding and important connections among and between cultures.

As you read, you will see there are overall patterns (trade, cultural interconnectedness, exploitation, conversion) as well as more temporally localized threads. Each of the four short essays that follow focuses on one of the four centuries that comprise the Early Modern period. They are meant to be read together and in order.

Saint Donatian (detail), Jan van Eyck, The Virgin and Child with Canon Joris van der Paele, 1436, oil on panel, 148 x 184 cm (Groeningemuseum, Bruges; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

The Renaissance begins

Most historians agree that the Renaissance begins around 1400. Wealth was accumulating in cities across Europe (Florence, Venice, Bruges, Ghent, Dijon, Antwerp, Seville, and Lisbon, among others) generated by manufacturing and by trade both across Europe, and with Asia and Africa. This is also the century that sees the beginnings of a European presence (in the form of military garrisons, some of which would later become centers of colonial control) in Africa and the Americas. In addition, wealthy patrons (like Philip the Good, Isabella d’Este, and Lorenzo de Medici) propelled the Renaissance, commissioning works of art for a variety of reasons. 

The Renaissance can be defined in part as the revival of a way of looking at the world called Humanism, which—at its most basic—placed renewed value on human knowledge, and the experience of this world (as opposed to focusing largely on the heavenly realm). In art for example, there is a return to representing the visible world. In the 15th century, even biblical figures and saints are depicted as more fully human than in the preceding centuries of the medieval era (though there are some notable exceptions).

View of Florence, Italy (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

In Italy (which was not yet a unified nation, but instead was made up of rival city states), we find a new historical self-consciousness that distinguishes itself from what one early Humanist called “the dark ages” (the medieval period), and confidently sees itself as a rebirth—one inspired by ancient Greek and Roman culture. [1] Highly educated and wealthy Italian rulers looked to ancient Greek and Roman literature and art as an exemplary model. The impact of ancient Greek and Roman art can be seen in the architecture of Filippo Brunelleschi, paintings by Masaccio, and sculpture by Donatello, all of whom worked in Florence.

In wealthy Northern European cities like Bruges and Brussels (today in Belgium), the Renaissance developed differently. We find oil paint used to create astoundingly realistic religious images by artists such as Jan van Eyck, Hans Memling, and Rogier van der Weyden.

This illustration comes from a book published by an early German printer from Augsburg, and is illustrated with seventy-three woodcuts. Here we see “Sol” or “Sun,” in Albumasar. Flores astrologiae (Augsburg: Erhard Ratdolt, November 18, 1488), image 21 (Rosenwald Collection, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.)

The printing press

We know that the flow of information and images is a defining feature of our own time. This begins in mid-15th-century Germany, when Johannes Gutenberg invented the mechanical printing press (an innovation already known in East Asia). The press allowed for the production of multiples of images and texts at a fraction of the cost of hand-written manuscripts and enabled the circulation of ideas and images across long distances and across cultures. Woodcuts became the most effective method of illustrating texts made with movable type. 

Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, 532–37, architects: Isidore of Miletus and Anthemius of Tralles (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

The Byzantine Empire falls to the Ottomans

If we look to southeastern Europe and West Asia, we find the once great Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire (it had once controlled much of West Asia, North Africa and southern and eastern Europe) had become significantly diminished. In 1453 the capital of the Byzantine Empire, Constantinople (today Istanbul), was conquered by the Ottoman army and Byzantine churches, such as Hagia Sophia, were transformed into mosques. With the fall of the Byzantine Empire, the last remnant of the ancient Roman empire was lost. The Ottoman Empire, which was Muslim, came to dominate this region on the eastern and southern edges of Europe until its collapse in 1922. 

Porcelain bowl with armorial designs and inscription, c. 1600–20 (Ming dynasty, Jingdezhen, Jiangxi province) (© The Trustees of the British Museum, London)

Porcelain and lacquer

The wealthy across both West Asia and Europe coveted lustrous, thin-walled, Chinese white porcelain decorated with blue underglaze. It seemed miraculous to take clay and create something so refined. Chinese porcelain was fired at a very high temperature and utilized kaolin—a white clay found in some Chinese rivers. The method and materials proved very difficult to copy (though many tried). Chinese porcelain was made for the court, but also for export. During the Ming dynasty, potters at the famous porcelain-producing kilns of Jingdezhen, China absorbed artistic ideas from imported foreign goods and made blue and white porcelain for export across the Islamic world, and eventually for the European market (and they sometimes make an appearance in European still life paintings). But porcelain was also made in a variety of colors—this stunning red dish was intended for rituals at the Chinese imperial court dedicated to the sun. 

There are also beautiful examples of blue and white porcelain from Korea made during the Joseon dynasty. Buncheong ware (decorated with various techniques, including inlay, stamping, incision, and iron-brown underglaze) was the primary type of Joseon ceramics at the time and shows the clear influence of Chinese blue and white porcelain. 

Negoro workshop, Negoro ware ewer, second half of 16th century (Muromachi period to Momoyama period, Wakayama prefecture, Japan), lacquered wood (Portland Art Museum)

In Japan, we find vessels, like this ewer, made using the labor-intensive process of urushi lacquer. This involved collecting tree sap (which was poisonous), processing it, and applying it in many layers to a wooden surface. The lacquer creates a smooth, hard, glossy surface. And though lacquer is found in much of Southeast Asia and East Asia, Japanese lacquer is a different process, and was so treasured by the Europeans that later, when trade with Europe began, Europeans called works that were lacquered “japanned” (analogous to the way that we use the word “china” to associate ceramics with China).

Ryōanji (Peaceful Dragon Temple), dry rock garden, study and grounds, Kyoto, Japan (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Also in Japan, the importance of nature is apparent in the work of the ink painter and Buddhist monk Sesshu Toyo and in the meditative spaces of Buddhist gardens. At the Zen temple of Ryōanji in Kyoto we find a dry rock garden—a form which developed during the Muromachi period. Ryōanji consists of just fifteen stones of different sizes arranged in groups amid raked pebbles.

Christopher Columbus landing on the Caribbean island of Hispaniola in 1492  (detail), Theodor de Bry, Christopher Columbus arrives in America, 1594, etching and text in letterpress, 18.6 x 19.6 cm (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam)

The beginnings of colonialism in Africa and the Americas

To appreciate the importance to Europe of trade with Asia, imagine your kitchen cupboard without cinnamon, cloves, pepper, or nutmeg. Trading these spices, and other luxury items like silk, could bring enormous profit. The Spanish monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, were anxious to compete with Portugal for the potential riches gained through trade with Africa and Asia. The Portuguese appeared ahead of the game—they rounded the southernmost point of Africa in 1488, and established a sea route to India in 1497. The Portuguese Cantino Planisphere, made in 1502, presents a diagram of the world as available for Europeans to claim and dominate.

Cantino Planisphere, 1502, ink and pigment on vellum, 102 x 218 cm (Biblioteca Estense Universitaria, Modena)

The Italian (from Genoa) Christopher Columbus believed that the globe of the earth was smaller than others estimated, and convinced Ferdinand and Isabella that he could reach Asia by sailing west. So, in the last decade of the century, in 1492, Columbus set sail west in search of a new trade route to Asia, but instead landed first in the Bahamas and Cuba and then Hispaniola (today the countries of Haiti and the Dominican Republic). The word “Indian” derives from the Indies, and was coined after Christopher Columbus bumped into the Caribbean islands believing, mistakenly, that he had found India.

Santiago Matamoros (or Saint James the Moor Slayer) was the patron saint of the conquest and colonization of the Americas by Spain. He was associated with conquest long before the Spaniards arrived in the Americas, since he was believed to have miraculously helped Spanish Christians during the so-called “Reconquest” of the Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal) from Muslims (which started after 711). Santiago on Horseback, 16th century, polychromed and gilded wood (Museo Franz Mayer, Mexico City)

Aside from a desire for gold and spices, the Spanish monarchs had another motive—a religious one. Since the 8th century, Muslim dynasties controlled much of the Iberian Peninsula (today Spain and Portugal). In 1492, after centuries of warfare (part of an effort commonly known as the Reconquest), Ferdinand and Isabella’s Christian armies defeated the last remaining independent Muslim state in Western Europe. 1492 was also the year that Columbus set sail, and it was the year that Spain expelled or forced the conversion to Christianity of all Jews and Muslims within its borders. The zealous conversion of the Indigenous peoples of the Americas and the establishment of colonies there largely mirrored the strategies of the Reconquest.

The often-used phrase that Europe discovered America masks the brutal history of colonial rule that Columbus’s voyages initiated and that resulted in the widespread destruction of Indigenous cities and attempts to eradicate Indigenous cultures (in part through conversion to Christianity), efforts that would continue well into the modern era.

Capital city of the Mexica (detail), Hernán Cortés, “Cortés’ 1524 Map of Tenochtitlan,” in Praeclara Ferdinādi Cortesii de Noua maris Oceani Hyspania narratio […] (Nuremberg, Germany: Friedrich Peypus, 1524; Newberry Library, Chicago)

Three spoons, 16th century (Edo or Owe culture, Benin, Bini-Portuguese style), in the collection of Cosimo I de’ Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany by 1555, ivory, 25, 24.8, and 25.7 cm long (Museo di Anthropologia e Etnologia, Florence)

Meanwhile, the Portuguese established trading colonies along the west coast of Africa. They saw local carvers making exquisite goods in ivory (which they referred to as “white gold”) and recognized their potential as luxury objects to be sold in Europe. Soon ivory spoons made in Africa were part of elite life in places like Lisbon (in Portugal). Early encounters with Europeans were often recorded in African art and ivories from the Kingdom of Benin depict Portuguese soldiers. In Portugal, the Tower of Belém was built to protect the entrance to Lisbon’s port and celebrates the expedition led by Vasco da Gama who established a maritime trade route from Portugal to India. 

Kilwa along the Swahili coast (underlying map © Google)

Once they rounded the Cape of Good Hope (the southernmost tip of Africa), the Portuguese sailed up the east coast of Africa in search of gold and found it at Kilwa, an island in what is now Tanzania. The Swahili civilization occupied coastal East Africa beginning of the 9th century through until the 18th century and Kilwa became rich by controlling the trade in gold exported from Zimbabwe. The island was an important center of Indian Ocean trade, as can be seen in the fragments of Chinese ceramics embedded in the walls of a mosque there. 

Even this very brief overview of the 15th century demonstrates that by the end of the century, the world was a very different place than it had been at the beginning of the century. Muslims and Jews had been expelled from Spain, and the Ottomans were on the borders of Europe. Asia, Africa, and Europe were more interconnected via sea routes that enabled trade, and for Europeans, the Americas now offered vast new territories filled with people and raw materials to convert and exploit.

A guardian statue holding a club in the second courtyard of Penataran, with the main temple, located in the main courtyard, seen in the background, 12th–15th centuries, Java (photo: Panggah Ardiyansyah, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

Two enormous guardian figures with fierce eyes, fanged teeth, and clubs crouch, ready to pounce on would-be trespassers at the entrance of the temple complex of Penataran. As if the stone sculptures were not intimidating enough, a 12th-century inscription at the complex written in Old Javanese explains that misfortune will befall those who dare to disturb or damage the site.

Penataran may not be the most well-known Javanese temple in Indonesia today, but for nearly three hundred years (from the late 12th to the mid-15th century) rulers considered it their most revered religious complex. Numerical inscriptions confirm that the complex had been renovated and that new structures were added during this unusually prolonged period of royal patronage.

The broad, irregular summit of Kelud volcano contains several lava domes and a crater lake that has been the source of frequent violent and sometimes devastating eruptions. Mount Kelud, Java (photo: Dan Dzurisin, 1980, U.S. Geological Survey, public domain)

Map showing the location of Penataran (underlying map © Google)

The Penataran temple complex is located on the southwestern slope of Mount Kelud in the eastern part of the island of Java. Kelud is considered a sacred mountain, and the construction of Penataran on Mount Kelud ensures that the temple is a part of this sacred geography.

Many of the monuments that made up the temple complex no longer survive; however, a number of shrines and temple foundations at Penataran remain, making it one of the most well-preserved religious complexes in East Java.

Originally, Penataran was comprised of three ascending courtyards, each with an entry on the western side. The main courtyard is to the east, closest to Mount Kelud, making it the most sacred space at the complex. Devotees would have worshipped in the direction of Kelud. This spatial arrangement became the archetype for later Hindu temples in Java, including Sukuh.

Ground plan of Penataran complex (taken from Suleiman, 1981); the first, westernmost courtyard, on the left contains C, D, E, and F; second courtyard, in the middle, comprises B; third courtyard, on the right, consists of A

An 1197 inscription at Penataran located in the main courtyard indicates that it was produced during the Kadiri Kingdom. After this time, there is a gap in construction at Penataran until the early 14th century when kings of Majapahit such as King Jayanegara (who ruled from 1309–28) commissioned structures and statues for the second courtyard, including a guardian statue dated 1320 as well as a Naga sculpture. In 1357, Jayanegara’s daughter and successor, Queen Tribuwanna Tunggadewi (who ruled from 1328–50), presented two pairs of guardian statues to the complex that were placed in front of the main temple’s double stairways. All of these have survived until today.

One of the guardian statues presented by Queen Tribuwanna Tunggadewi in 1347 at Penataran, Java (photo: Panggah Ardiyansyah, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

These additions were followed by projects sponsored by King Hayam Wuruk (who ruled from 1351–89), often remembered as the greatest ruler of Majapahit. His contributions include a temple built in 1369 (figure C on the ground plan) and a pendopo in 1375. The last dated addition to the complex is a bathing pool contributed by King Wikramawardhana (who ruled from 1389–1429). It is located behind the main courtyard and inscribed with the date 1415. The Majapahit began to gradually lose power over the next century.

Literary sources, dating from the 14th and 15th centuries, provide some insight into Penataran’s use, suggesting that Penataran was a site of royal patronage because of its religious potency and because it served as a center for religious learning. In both of these textual sources, the temple complex is called Palah; a name also mentioned in the 1197 inscription, which links the temple of Penataran to Lord Bharata Palah and Mount Kelud.

In the 14th-century Old Javanese manuscript, Desavarnana, we are told that Hayam Wuruk, a powerful ruler of the Majapahit empire, visited Palah on his pilgrimage across the territory. It is said that he was hoping for a blessing for prosperity from god Acalapati at Palah. Acalapati in the Old Javanese language refers to the “lord of the mountain.” It is widely accepted in the region that the name Acalapati is a local variant in ancient Java for the Hindu god Shiva.

Bujangga Manik, a 15th-century Sundanese manuscript, uses the term “Rabut Palah” to describe Penataran as both a center of devotion and an admired place for learning. “Rabut” means venerated or sacred. Linguistically, rabut can also mean a hill, thereby underlining the interrelation between sacrality and mountainous landscapes in Javanese cultures.

Architectural layout: the first courtyard

The first courtyard is narrow and is essentially an elevated platform where the Pendopo Terrace (figure D on the ground plan of Penataran complex) is situated. Today this terrace (which once had a roof) consists of a stone platform atop an earthen foundation, inscribed with the date of 1375. Narrative reliefs are carved into the stone walls of the platform that depict stories taken from kidung poetry (an Old Javanese poetic genre that largely dates from the 14th and 15th centuries).

The relief panels on the eastern wall of Pendopo Terrace at Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Panggah Ardiyansyah, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

Three different kidung stories are identified in the Pendopo Terrace: Bubuksha, Sri Tanjung, and Sang Setyawan.

Bubuksha narrates a story of two brothers, Bubuksha and Gagang Aking, who meet a hungry tiger. While Gagang Aking refuses to sacrifice himself, Bubuksha unselfishly offers his body to be eaten by the tiger. It turns out the tiger was in fact Bathara Guru, the supreme god, in disguise.

One of the panel reliefs in the Pendopo Terrace, showing Sri Tanjung, on the left side, entering another realm as symbolized by her riding a fish, and being watched forlornly by her husband, Sidapaksa, on the right, Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Anandajoti Bhikkhu, CC BY 2.0)

Sri Tanjung is a story of love and separation between Sidapaksa and his wife, Sri Tanjung, who is being courted by King Sulakrama. Despite the king’s efforts, the couple manages to stay together until the end.

Sang Satyawan is another story of love’s power. In this story, the Suwistri had to survive a series of life-threatening challenges in order to be with Sang Satyawan, an ascetic who was destined to be her husband.

All three visual narratives are intended to be circumambulated in a counter-clockwise direction around the Pendopo Terrace. While we have no written source on its function, this terrace was likely used as a repository for ritual offerings. Meanwhile, the presentation of kidung-based relief speaks to the popularity of such local stories during the period of the Majapahit empire.

The Temple with Date at Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Panggah Ardiyansyah, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

Another structure within the first courtyard of Penataran is a temple nicknamed the “Temple with Date” (figure C on the ground plan) because of the inscribed date of 1369 found on the lintel. The temple appears as a tower that has a single chamber, accessible through a door on the west side. Above the door is the head of Kala, the guardian of time.

Kala, east side, Temple with Date at Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Anandajoti Bhikkhu, CC BY 2.0)

Kala figures also appear above niches on the other three sides of the Temple with Date. In all four images, Kala is depicted with bulging eyes, fangs, and horns. Kala appears in art bodiless, with the exception of its hands that are used to frame its face. Inside of the Temple with Date is a statue of Ganesha. It is unclear why Ganesha is presented as a central figure as this is unusual at ancient Javanese temples. It has been suggested that the statue may have once adorned one of the three niches, now empty, and was moved to the chamber at a later date.

Guardian figure, second courtyard, Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Anandajoti Bhikkhu, CC BY 2.0)

Architectural layout: second courtyard

When you enter the second courtyard (located in the middle of the ground plan above), you are greeted by a pair of guardian statues shown in a squatting position with one knee on the ground. This is a posture of both obsequiousness and a readiness for action. They each hold a club that rests on the shoulder, typical of guardian figures from Java. The guardian figures are also adorned with necklaces and bracelets in the shapes of snakes.

The primary structure in the second courtyard is the Naga Temple (figure B on the plan) which gets its name from the large sculpted naga looping the upper body of the temple. This naga is being held aloft by nine richly adorned figures. It is not known whether these figures represent specific deities. At present, the temple has no roof, which may have originally been made of perishable materials. Also missing is the original statue that would have been housed inside. Apart from the Naga Temple, stone platforms indicate that there were other edifices within the second courtyard that are no longer extant.

The Naga Temple at Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Panggah Ardiyansyah, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

Architectural layout: main courtyard

The Main Temple (figure A on the ground plan), located at the center of the main (or third) courtyard, is known for its carved reliefs of the Ramayana and Krishnayana stories. This temple is composed of three levels, with Ramayana reliefs on its first-level wall and Krishnayana on second-level. While the Ramayana series are read in a counter-clockwise direction, the Krishnayana story is arranged in a clockwise manner.

The Main Temple of Penataran, 12th–15th centuries, Java (photo: Panggah Ardiyansyah, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)

The presentation of the Ramayana relief at the Main Temple is uncommon as it focuses on the figure of the monkey deity, Hanuman, instead of highlighting the central story of Ramayana involving the union of Rama and Sita. In particular, the panels depict the heroic efforts of Hanuman in assisting Rama to release Sita from Ravana who held her captive. On the south wall, one can see Hanuman conducting a reconnaissance mission into Ravana’s kingdom. After sneaking into the enemy’s palace, Hanuman is able to tell Sita about Rama’s plan to free her. This episode is immediately followed by the building of a dam with the help of the monkey army under the direction of Hanuman and his older brother Sugriwa. The final scene of the story illustrates the killing of the ogre commander, Kumbhakarna, by Hanuman.

Two relief panels, flanking the medallion, showing the monkey army carrying huge stones on their shoulders to build a bridge on the left panel, while the right one depicting most likely Hanuman and Sugriwa, as the leaders of the monkey army, throwing massive stone blocks into the water, at Penataran, 14th century, Java (photo: Anandajoti Bhikkhu, CC BY 2.0)

Also depicted on the Main Temple are episodes from the Khrisnayana that outline the romantic story of Krishna and his wife, Rukmini. Initial panels of the reliefs depict the superhuman exploits of Krishna in defeating his enemies. However, the majority of the panels represent Krishna’s effort to rescue his future bride, Rukmini, from the hands of Suniti, King of Cedi. The ultimate battle scene at the Main Temple recounts the fighting between Krishna and Sukma’s armed warriors. Sukma, the brother of Rukmini, tried and failed to return Rukmini to King Suniti. His life is spared at Krishna’s mercy after passionate appeal by Rukmini. The final panel of the Khrisnayana story at Penataran depicts the couple living together in bliss.

One of the fighting scenes taken from a long vertical relief panel showing the final battle scene in Krisnayana between Khrisna and Rukma (both are not shown in this image), whereby the foot soldiers wear round headbands not dissimilar to modern wayang (Javanese shadow puppet) characters, Penataran, 14th century, Java  (photo: Anandajoti Bhikkhu, CC BY 2.0)

Three courtyards: symbolism of tripartite universe

In ancient Java, the universe was visualized as three separate realms, likely related to Hindu and Buddhist conceptions of their universes. For example, the 9th-century Buddhist temple Borobudur in central Java is symbolically divided into three vertical realms: kamadhatu (realm of worldly desires), rupadhatu (realm of form), and arupadhatu (realm of formlessness). Meanwhile, the structure of Hindu tower temples in Java are distinctly divided into three vertical realms: Bhurloka (realm of mortals), Bhuwarloka (realm of the purified) and Swarloka (realm of the gods). This comes from the understanding that gods reside on the summit of Mount Meru.

In this context, the layout of three courtyards at Penataran represents the visual manifestation of a tripartite universe. However, instead of visualizing the tripartite universe as a vertical ascent, at Penataran it is organized linearly moving towards Mount Kelud. In this way, Mount Kelud becomes the literal and symbolic summit of the Javanese gods. As the earthly abode to the gods, rulers of ancient Java sought to ensure that the deities would continue to live within their kingdoms by lavishing their patronage at the site of Penataran over the course of three centuries.

View east from the top of the main temple

A sparkling jewel of an object, this micromosaic depicts the miracle-working Virgin Hodegetria.

Icon with the Virgin Hodegetria Dexiokratousa, first quarter of 13th century (Byzantine), tesserae (gold and other materials), set in wax on wood, 44.5 x 33.5 x 2.5 cm (Holy Monastery of Saint Catherine, Sinai, Egypt). Speakers: Dr. Evan Freeman, Hellenic Canadian Congress of BC Chair in Hellenic Studies at the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Centre for Hellenic Studies at Simon Fraser University and Dr. Steven Zucker

The architecture of the Muslim faith stands in every province and autonomous region of China. In 2020, Chinese Muslims accounted for approximately 1.6 percent of the Chinese population. They are served by nearly 40,000 mosques (two-thirds of them in Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in far western China). The largest Muslim population in China are Hui, a name translated as “Muslim.” Hui live throughout China and speak Chinese. The first Muslims came to China in the 7th century as ambassadors and merchants. Many came to the city Chang’an, today Xi’an, China’s capital at the time, and a city whose international population included Zoroastrians, Manichaeans, and Christians. 

Pavilion of Ten Thousand Happinesses, Yonghe Buddhist Temple, Beijing, China (photo: Roweromaniak, CC-BY-SA-4.0)

The religious architecture Muslims emulated in China from the 7th century onward had the structural features of existing Chinese Buddhist, Daoist, and Confucian halls. The features followed prescriptive texts: a religious hall was supported by a frame of wooden pillars standing on a platform supporting wooden bracket sets, which in turn supported the wooden roof frame. The structure was covered by a ceramic tile roof. Walls on either side of and between the pillars were usually plaster, but it was the wooden frame that supported the building.

Stipulations in treatises issued at the Chinese court specify how many columns could be constructed, their heights, distances from one another, the kinds of bracketing to be used, and roof style. The details of each feature indicated the status of a building. An imperial temple was of the highest status and a temple built by the local population in the countryside was usually a low-status building. Constructed by craftsmen-workshops, anyone in China knew the status of the structure based on its building components. Further, the placement of buildings in relation to one another was standardized. No structure stood in isolation. Buildings were part of complexes whose individual structures were positioned along north-south or east-west lines and around courtyards.

Mosques could readily be accommodated in the Chinese architectural tradition, since they had few architectural requirements. These six features are widely associated with mosque architecture:

1. The qibla—the only feature that is absolutely necessary in a mosque. It is often a wall, but always a feature indicating the direction of Mecca (for prayer).
2. A mihrab, a niche added to the qibla (wall).
3. A minbar from which the sermon is delivered.
4. Sometimes an important person such as the caliph prays in an enclosed or semi-enclosed area known as maqsura.
5. The space of a mosque is often organized in relation to courtyards, a standard feature of Chinese mosque planning.
6. A minaret, which identifies the mosque from afar.

The interior of the mosque prayer hall usually has wide, open floor space that makes it possible for congregants to prostrate when they pray.

Phoenix Pavilion in the fourth courtyard, Huajuexiangsi (The Great Mosque in Xi’an), Xi’an, China (photo: chensiyuan, CC BY-SA 4.0)

China’s most famous mosque

China’s most famous mosque is Huajuexiangsi (the mosque on Huajue alley) in Xi’an. Popularly known as the Great Mosque in Xi’an, it has a long history of construction. In 742, a Chinese Buddhist monastery existed on this site. Sometime between 1260 and 1263, it was rebuilt for Muslim worship. This would have been straightforward since the Chinese timber frame tradition was so adaptable. The Xi’an Mosque was constructed with the sanction of Emperor Hongwu, the first Han Chinese emperor following Mongol rule and with the support of the famous Chinese Muslim seafarer Zheng He.

Diagram of Huajuexiangsi (The Great Mosque in Xi’an) in Xi’an, China

Huajuexiangsi consists of five courtyards along an extremely long axial line, oriented to the east so that the mihrab is in the westernmost building’s westernmost wall. More than twenty buildings occupy the enormous enclosed space.

The first courtyard (on the far left in the diagram above) is the smallest, defined by a brick screen wall, two side gates, and a ceremonial gate supported by six pillars across the front with a prominent, central opening.

The second courtyard is the area between the six-pillar gate and the third gate on the axial line. A three-bay stone gate and two pavilions with stele are the only notable structures.

Three avenues lead to the third courtyard whose focus is an octagonal building named Examining the Heart Tower whose height and shape have led many to assume it is a minaret, but this has never been proved. Various service and administrative buildings line the north and south sides of the third courtyard and the front part of the fourth courtyard. One of the three lecture halls for teaching students aspiring to be clergy as well as lay population is on the north side of the third courtyard and a hall for ablutions is on the south. Also, there are kitchens, offices, and the dwelling of the imam, the highest-ranking religious leader in residence. The only other structures inside the third courtyard are two pavilions that cover steles.

Prayer Hall, Huajuexiangsi (The Great Mosque in Xi’an), Xi’an, China (photo: Ronnie Macdonald, CC BY 2.0)

Behind the octagonal building are the last two courtyards. The prayer hall and its approach dominate these courtyards. Its position at the back of such a long axis makes it clear that it is the structure for which all the others were erected. It is supported by a frame of eight pillars across the front and four in depth and has a Chinese-style roof of azure, glazed tiles. Azure glaze is second in rank compared to the golden roof tiles used in the Forbidden City. The central section of the back of the prayer hall extends westward to become the mihrab. The huge worship hall, 32.9 x 27.5 meters, has no side windows. 600-plus designs on the ceiling and the highly decorated mihrab brighten the interior. The area, including the mihrab, can accommodate more than 1,000 worshipers. 

Interior of the Prayer Hall, Huajuexiangsi (The Great Mosque in Xi’an), Xi’an, China (photo: © Bobby Zucco)

Although several structures at the Xi’an Mosque illustrate its close connection to Chinese architecture, it is not an imitation of a specific Chinese building complex. Rather, it follows or recalls hundreds of complexes with similar structures that stood in China in the 15th and 16th centuries. Features such as the mosque’s screen walls, archways, and tower can be seen at many other temple complexes throughout China. An extremely large hall such as the worship hall at Huajuexiangsi was the equivalent in imperial settings of an audience hall, and in religious architecture, as the main worship space in an imperial monastery. The location in Xi’an has further increased Huajuexiangsi’s fame, but first and foremost it is an outstanding example of a Chinese-style building complex where Islam is practiced.

More than a replica of Mahabodhi Temple, this model symbolizes the most important event in the Buddha’s life: achieving enlightenment.

Model of the Mahabodhi Temple, eastern India, probably Bodhgaya, c. 11th century, stone (serpentinite), 17.5 x 8.9 x 10.2 cm (Rubin Museum of Art, New York). Speakers: Dr. Elena Pakhoutova, Senior Curator, Rubin Museum of Art and Dr. Beth Harris

Rubin Museum senior curator Dr. Elena Pakhoutova and Smarthistory’s Dr. Beth Harris explore a model of the most important temple in the Buddhist world. The Mahabodhi Temple, located in Bodhgaya, India, is where the Buddha attained awakening while sitting under the bodhi tree.

The Rubin Museum of Art has teamed up with Smarthistory to bring you an “up-close” look at select objects from the Rubin’s preeminent collection of Himalayan art. Featuring conversations with senior curators and close-looking at art, this video series is an accessible introduction to the art and material culture of the Tibetan, Himalayan, and Inner Asian regions. Learn about the living traditions and art-making practices of the Himalayas from the past to today.

Rendered simply in tones of ink, Six Persimmons is a treasure of Zen Buddhist painting.

Six Persimmons, attributed to Muqi, 13th century (Song dynasty), ink on paper (Daitokuji Ryokoin Zen Temple, Kyoto). Speakers: Dr. Laura W. Allen, Senior curator for Japanese art, Asian Art Museum, San Francisco and Dr. Beth Harris

Images of the Prophet Muhammad

An issue that arises with some regularity in the study of Islamic art surrounds images of the Prophet Muhammad (who died in 632 C.E.) and whether it is permissible to make or view them. The historical record on this topic suggests one set of beliefs, but individual convictions, the teachings of different schools of Islamic theology, and current-day political rhetoric all suggest other points of view. This multiplicity of perspectives reflects the variety in the praxis of this (or indeed any) religion, and reinforces the fact that there is no one judgment on this matter that would encompass the beliefs of all Muslims in all parts of the world, or would apply to all moments in the past or present.

There are ways, however, to understand why this topic has been such a flashpoint. In part this is because it is embedded in the question of whether or not figural imagery is forbidden by the religion of Islam. The answer is unequivocal in certain realms. There are no representations of God, for instance, because God is understood as absolute, eternal, and omnipresent, having no bodily manifestation. Therefore, rather than using what would be inappropriate means to convey God’s qualities, in terms of the human form, artists in the Muslim tradition have created other devices to represent him, inspired by descriptions in the Qur’an or sayings of the Prophet (hadith). Clouds or lamps are among the common visual metaphors to represent him; calligraphy proclaiming the ninety-nine names that describe his attributes is another.

In addition, any images or icons that might be worshipped as idols are forbidden, and therefore no figures are ever depicted in mosques or in copies of the Qur’an. Yet there is variety in beliefs about whether images of religious figures such as prophets can appear in other contexts, and there are many instances in which they do. This includes biographical, historical, or literary texts in which paintings of figures such as Ibrahim/Abraham or Musa/Moses illustrate stories of their lives; here they provide instruction and were not intended for worship. Two examples showing the Prophet Muhammad in this context have gained some fame because they were shown and discussed as part of a class lecture that raised controversy in late 2022–early 2023. [1]

Both come from manuscripts, and so viewing them would have been a personal experience, as these manuscripts were meant to be held and read by an individual. They were painted onto pages to accompany a text, and as such were surrounded by writing. In addition, the pages before and after would have also included related illustrations.

The angel Gabriel appears to Muhammad

The first was included in a world history called the Compendium of Chronicles (Jami al-Tawarikh), written in the early 14th century and copied several times. The copy from which this painting comes is dated to c. 1306–14, and was made in present-day Iran. The painting falls within a section of the chronicle on the life of the Prophet Muhammad, one of several prophets and religious figures discussed in the text. There are other paintings that show Muhammad in the manuscript, illustrating a number of moments in his life.

The event depicted in this painting of Muhammad, which can be viewed here, is the first visitation the Prophet received from the angel Jibra’il/Gabriel. Muhammad often spent time in prayer in the hills outside the city of Mecca, where he lived, and was sitting in a cave there when Gabriel (on the left) appeared to him and started to deliver the revelations from God that form the contents of the Qur’an. A rocky landscape indicating the hills of Mecca is indicated below, but otherwise the focus is on the two figures.

The second painting is part of a manuscript produced in present-day Turkey in 1595–96. Titled the Biography of the Prophet’ (Siyer-i Nebi), the lengthy, Turkish-language text is illustrated with more than 800 paintings of Muhammad. This particular one, viewable here, shows the Prophet at a similar moment in time to the previous painting, at the hill where he started receiving revelations. Here, however, Gabriel is not shown and the hill, known as Jabal al-Nur (The Mountain of Light), is given more prominence. It appears as a golden mountain rising from a golden plain, with a host of angels watching from above.

Another significant difference between the two paintings is that the face of the Prophet is shown in the first, but is veiled in the second, which also shows his body as framed by flames. While the earliest surviving paintings portraying Muhammad in manuscripts from the 13th and 14th centuries include neither veil nor flames, these features became increasingly common in the early 16th century. It has been suggested that the veil shields a direct view of Muhammad’s face, so that a truly spiritual perception of him, undistracted by a visual form, might occur, while the flames are the materialization of God’s light, said to emanate from Muhammad. The symbol of the flames also helped to convey Muhammad’s special status as the last of the Prophets to be sent by God to spread his divine message. [2]

From a Persian poem called “The Orchard’”

Paintings of Muhammad have also been included in poems that describe events from his life. One of the most often illustrated of these events, known as the mi‘raj, is the night he traveled to Jerusalem, then ascended to heaven where he met with God and the earlier prophets. A beautifully executed example showing Muhammad rising to the heavens, which you can see here, comes from an illustrated copy of a Persian poem called “The Orchard” (Bustan) by the 13th-century author Sa‘di. It shows the Prophet as he is carried into the sky by the Buraq, a mythical beast with the body of a horse and the head of a human. Muhammad’s left hand is in a gesture indicating speaking, reflecting the fact that he conversed with the Buraq during the flight. Below is the sacred sanctuary at Mecca (the haram al-sharif). Here, the face of the Prophet is shown, but his head is surrounded by a halo of flames. Similarly, the manuscript of the Qur’an in the mosque below is also shrouded in flames, expressing the exalted nature of both Prophet and holy book.

The question of religious images

The existence of these works of art, among many hundreds of depictions of the prophets of Islam, may give rise to the question as to why there have been such vociferous, and sometimes violent, reactions to teaching or publishing them. In some cases, the response has been to images that were disrespectful, demeaning, and racist, as in the cartoons published in Denmark and France in the early 2000s. [3] In other cases, however, the response has been to the types of images presented above, made by Muslims, included in the kinds of texts where such imagery was commonplace, and wholly reverential in the minds of the people who created them.

This reflects the fact that not all Muslims hold the same views on the issue of representing religious figures, and most especially the Prophet Muhammad. While some Muslims have considered depiction of him acceptable in specific contexts, there are others who would disagree and who believe that any depiction of the Prophet is offensive, even when made by Muslims and out of respect. Even if such images exist, they consider them sacrilegious and do not want to view them; some believe that no one should view them. This is the case in many Muslim cultures past and present. Accommodating this point of view is difficult given the concept of academic freedom that universities in many parts of the world espouse, but it is important to recognize that this conundrum is not particular to Muslims, Islam, or Islamic art.

We might consider the broader question of showing any religious art in art history courses. The primary content of most includes paintings, sculptures, manuscripts, and other materials originally produced for purposes of worship. In calling these works “art,” much is lost about the reasons or modes of their production and their potential to speak to audiences of believers. It also overlooks the sensitivities in many religious traditions to showing images of icons that in their original contexts might only be viewed during certain ceremonies, at certain times of year, and by certain believers. We could equally consider the impact when the objects themselves are shown in museums for any member of the public to behold. These are issues that pertain to traditions from around the globe, from the Americas, Africa, and the Pacific as well as Europe and Asia, and are not just confined to the art of Muslims.

It is also important to note that responses to these kinds of paintings have also been heightened by the current political climate. On the one hand, the promotion of certain interpretations of Islam has set up conflicts among Muslim communities with differing practices. The last two centuries, for instance, have seen the spread of the teachings of an 18th-century legal scholar from Saudi Arabia, Muhammad Ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab. ‘Abd al-Wahhab promoted a movement of purification and reform in the practice of Islam and averred even the suggestion of veneration of any figure other than God. This form of Islam has gained prominence as the wealth and political influence of Saudi Arabia has grown, and ‘Abd al-Wahhab’s adherents are able to promote their perspective among Muslims in other parts of the world. Other communities have also long espoused orthodoxy, quite separate from the Saudi doctrine. As the differences between these and other Muslim communities play out on a public stage, there has been a rise in denouncements of practices that have been acceptable in various Muslim societies—including the making of figural art.

The actions of groups that use the destruction of art for political purposes further muddy the water. The images of the dynamiting of the Buddha statues at Bamiyan and the devastation of the monuments of Palmyra have been the most widely publicized. However, as many have commented, these acts were not inspired only by religious sentiment but were shrewdly orchestrated to generate outrage among foreign media and cultural institutions—they do not reflect the beliefs of all Muslims today, let alone the views of Muslims everywhere in the past. [4]

The role of history

In understanding all of these contextual layers, the role of art history must also be examined. Past scholars are responsible for creating and reinforcing the stereotype that Islamic art forbids figural imagery and the subsequent characterization of Muslim civilizations that this perception has enabled. Despite thousands of examples of representational art, the earliest 20th-century publications in Islamic art history promoted the notion that figures were problematic in this body of art, and the perception has persisted despite decades of subsequent revision on the topic. Having been thus reinforced, politicians in North America and Europe have recently seized upon this issue of figuration, holding it as a sign of cultural advancement and liberal society. They use an alleged inimical attitude toward images to justify discriminatory policies against “backward” Muslim-majority countries. This in fact is a centuries-old tactic, one that also has resonance with 19th-century characterizations of Jewish cultures as also being regressive. This way of thinking privileges the depiction of the human figure as the height of artistic expression (itself a way a reifying certain Eurocentric values), discounts the varied reasons for eschewing figuration in certain contexts, and indeed overlooks the Christian history of doing so.

These are some of the reasons why teaching certain images in Islamic art have become a tricky proposition, but the lessons to be learned from recent episodes should not be that Islamic art is simply too dangerous a topic to address in the classroom. For those not as familiar with the subject, it may seem too easy to wander into areas that could lead to censure or other consequences. But it is important not to conflate the paintings shown in the class with the highly offensive and intentionally provocative cartoons and other imagery that have sparked violent responses in the recent past, nor to assume that all Muslims will respond the same way to viewing images of the Prophet. This aspect of the historical record should and must not be lost in the present heavily politicized environment—but they must be taught with a sensitivity that we can continue to develop.

From creating a wax model to final decoration, artists skillfully demonstrate the lost-wax casting process for Newar Buddhist sculpture.

The lost-wax technique of hollow metal casting, perfected by Newar artists of Kathmandu Valley, has remained a thriving practice from ancient times to the present day. Learn about the elaborate process from the artisans at Foundry Foundation Nepal.

The Qur’an is the holy book of the religion of Islam, containing the words of God as revealed to the Prophet Muhammad starting in the year 610. Following the Prophet’s death in 632, these revelations, which had initially been memorized by the early Muslim converts, were fully written out for the first time. At this time they were organized into 114 chapters (called suras in Arabic) that were themselves divided into verses (ayas), and placed in order of decreasing length rather than the order in which they were revealed (except for the first very short opening chapter). Following this codification of the text, Qur’ans have been copied in beautifully produced and lavish manuscripts that reflect the fact that they contain the words of God. The text is written in specially devised scripts, and gold and colored inks are used to enhance the appearance of the pages.

When you encounter pages from a Qur’an, you find much more than just the Arabic text. There are different traditions about where certain verses end, how certain words are pronounced, the intonation to use when reading them aloud, and other such details. As a result, many of the visual features in the text that are classified as decoration were actually introduced into the manuscripts to preserve these specific readings. This essay will help you understand the many marks that appear in historic manuscripts, and how they facilitate the ways the Qur’an is studied, recited, and prayed with.

Frontispieces

Moving from the front to the back of a manuscript, for instance, you might first encounter a frontispiece. This is either a single page, or two-facing pages, with painted ornament which serves as a decorative entry into the contents.

Frontispiece to volume two of a 30-volume Qur’an, late 9th–early 10th century (Syria or Iraq), ink, opaque watercolor and gold on parchment, 17.1 cm (each page) (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York)

Many early Qur’ans have frontispieces with geometric or floral illumination, such as this example from the 9th or 10th century which has interlacing gold borders enclosing a geometric, stippled design. Extending into the margins on either side are floral roundels, also in gold.

Other frontispieces might also include information about the text itself. The Qur’an copied by Ibn al-Bawwab in Baghdad in 1000–1001 is an important manuscript that serves as an example of what this information might be. It includes three double-page frontispieces, two of which have calligraphy along with the gold, blue, black, and brown decorative motifs.

Left: first frontispiece with script in oblong bands; right: second frontispiece with script in interlacing octagons, Qur’an of Ibn al-Bawwab with chapter, verse, word, letter, vocalization, and diacritic counts, 1000–1001 (Iraq, Baghdad), ink and gold pigment on paper, 18.3 x 14.5 cm (Chester Beatty Library, Dublin, Is 1431, folios 6 verso and 7 verso)

In the first frontispiece, the script is arranged in oblong bands while in the second it is set within interlacing octagons. The calligraphy specifies the number of chapters, verses, words, letters, and diacritical marks in this volume of the Qur’an. This accords to an accounting approved by ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib (an early convert and a son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad). Ibn al-Bawwab would have included this information to certify that he had copied exactly a particular reading of the Qur’an, in its entirety, and without error. This last part was important because it’s always possible, when copying a text by hand, for words or phrases to be accidentally skipped or repeated.

Chapter headings

The text following the frontispiece is organized by chapter, with the chapter names written in a different script from the main text. On this page, the title of chapter 54, sura al-qamar (“the moon”), appears on the fifth line from the top, in a gold ink also different from that used for the Qur’anic text.

Folio from the Qur’an of Ibn al-Bawwab with Sura 53 (al-Najm, “The Star”), verse 53 and Sura 54 (al-Qamar, “The Moon”), verses 1–11, 1000–1001 (Iraq, Baghdad), ink and gold pigment on paper, 18.3 x 14.5 cm
(Chester Beatty Library, Dublin, Is 1431, folio 243 verso)

Since the chapters names were applied later to each revelation (usually taking a word that features prominently within it), the change in script makes it clear that the titles are not part of God’s words. This heading also includes the number of verses in the sura (in this case, 55), and the place where it was revealed to Muhammad—either Mecca or Medina (this verse was revealed in Mecca, as indicated by the word “Meccan” in the margin).

Folio from the Qur’an of Ibn al-Bawwab with Sura 53 (al-Najm, “The Star”), verse 53 and Sura 54 (al-Qamar, “The Moon”), verses 1–11, 1000–1001 (Iraq, Baghdad), ink and gold pigment on paper 18.3 x 14.5 cm (Chester Beatty Library, Dublin, Is 1431, folio 243 verso)

Diacritics and vocalizations

In Arabic, short vowels do not have their own characters, and some consonants share character forms only distinguished with the addition of diacritics (the dots placed above or below these forms to create different letters). This copy of the Qur’an is distinguished by the clear and consistent use of diacritic and vocalization marks, which did not always appear in earlier Qur’ans. This is an important feature since the Qur’an, whose name itself means “recite,” is taught and memorized by reading aloud, following rules about the pronunciation, style, tone and intonation by which it is voiced. The Qur’an is also recited as part of daily prayers, during sermons and other ceremonies, and is experienced by sound as much as by sight. The inclusion of these marks therefore not only help avoid confusion about which letter has been written, but also assist someone reciting the Qur’an aloud to pronounce the words correctly according to the reading by which the text has been copied.

Verse markers

This page also includes markings for the ends of verses. These kinds of markings appear in many Qur’an manuscripts and can take different forms, ranging from small gold circles to rosettes or the motifs here, of the three dots arranged in a triangle (one such marking can be seen at the left side of the second line).

At the end of every fifth verse the dots are replaced with a golden letter kha, as seen on the top line.

Tenth verses are marked in a more elaborate way: within the text is a gold circle inscribed with a letter that represents the number of verses reached, while another gold roundel in the margin includes that number written out in words. This kind of mark was included because variant readings can break verses in different locations; the insertion of the verse marker would therefore make it clear which reading is used in a given manuscript. It also helps the reader keep a count of the verses, both to certify the integrity of the text that has been copied, and also to track how many verses have been read on a particular day, since sometimes worshippers will read the text in equal parts over the course of a week or a month.

Markers for prostration

One last type of mark found on this page indicates where a person reading or reciting the Qur’an should prostrate (bend down and touch the forehead to the ground). Here it is an illuminated circle to the right of the chapter heading; at its center is a golden star-shape around the word sajda (prostrate). There are either fourteen or fifteen verses for which prostration is indicated (depending on different beliefs), and the act reflects the person’s humility through his or her willingness to prostrate in front of God.

Ending illumination from the Qur’an of Ibn al-Bawwab with letter counts, 1000–1001 (Iraq, Baghdad), ink and gold pigment on paper, 18.3 x 14.5 cm (Chester Beatty Library, Dublin, Is 1431, folios 285 verso–286 recto)

Finispieces

Finally, at the end of the text, in what is called a finispiece, some Qur’ans include tables that provide the number of times each letter in the alphabet appears. These tables serve again to certify the completeness and correctness of the text that has been copied. The Ibn al-Bawwab Qur’an includes just such an accounting on a set of illuminated folios that concludes the manuscript; on the right side of each table is the name of the letter, and to left is written the number of its occurrences.

Division into volumes

One last development to note are the methods for separating the Qur’anic text into sections in order to facilitate its reading over specific periods of time. In these cases, the text would be divided in nearly equal parts that might be read during the course of a week (creating seven parts called manazil, plural of manzil) or a month (creating 30 parts called ajza’, plural of juz’). The thirtieths might also be sub-divided into a half (nisf), a fourth (rub‘), and even sixtieths (ahzab, plural of hizb). In a single-volume Qur’an, these divisions in the text could be indicated with illuminations in the margins. Alternatively, the sections could be bound separately; in especially elaborate productions, each of these volumes might be given their own frontis- and finispieces.

These interventions into the Arabic text were devised over many centuries in response to the changing needs of the numerous Muslim communities. As the text of the Qur’an was written, as the initially small group of Muslims spread into non-Arabic speaking areas, as scholars developed variant readings, and as rituals involving the Qur’an developed, calligraphers and illuminators responded with a range of visual devices to help and support with readings of the text, but in beautiful and eye-pleasing ways that corresponded to the sanctity of the text.

Abu Zayd, bowl with a majlis scene by a pond, 1186 (Kashan, Iran), stone paste, glazed in opaque turquoise, polychrome in-glaze- and overglaze- painted, 21.6 cm diameter (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York)

Figure reciting poetry (detail), Abu Zayd, bowl with a majlis scene by a pond, 1186 C.E. (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

In the center of this 12th-century ceramic bowl we see two beautifully dressed figures sitting on a throne or takht. They are surrounded by four additional figures, one on either side, and two behind the throne. They tilt their heads, appearing to listen intently to the man sitting opposite them, who gestures forward as if in mid-speech. This figure is reciting poetry. They appear in a peaceful outdoor setting, where we see fish swimming in a pond and birds gathering at their feet and flying overhead. 

Figures on the takht, Abu Zayd, bowl with a majlis scene by a pond, 1186 C.E., stone paste, glazed in opaque turquoise, polychrome in-glaze- and overglaze- painted, 21.6 cm diameter, Kashan, Iran (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

We are looking at a depiction of a majlis, a gathering of members of the royal court and intellectuals for the public recitation of poetry. The artist paid attention to small details to give life to the motif. The figure seated on the throne closest to us is distinguished from the rest by a distinctive headdress, perhaps a crown. He raises his hand as if responding to the skillful recitation performed by the figure opposite. The courtier to the left of the takht appears to rest his body on the throne, rapt by the poetic performance.

Poetry is central to this bowl—Persian and Arabic poems encircle the vessel on both its exterior and interior. Interestingly, at least one of the poems adorning its surface was composed by Abu Zayd who also made and decorated this bowl. Abu Zayd is regarded today as perhaps the most famous potter of medieval Iran. Signed and dated to 1186 C.E., this bowl is Abu Zayd’s earliest known work, and already represents his accomplishments in his craft.

Examples of minaʾi and lusterware, 12th–13th century. From left: Minaʾi bowl with enthroned ruler, 13th century, Kashan, Iran (Victoria & Albert Museum); Abu Zayd, Star tile with prince on horseback, 1211 C.E., fritware with luster decoration, 27.5 x 26.5 x 1.5 cm, Kashan, Iran (Museum of Fine Arts Boston); Abu Zayd, lusterware plate with mystical allegory of the quest for the Divine, 1210 C.E., stonepaste painted overglaze with luster, 35.2 cm diameter, Kashan, Iran (National Museum of Asian Art); jar with hunters, 12th–13th century, stonepaste with minaʾi decoration, Kashan, Iran (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

New ceramic technologies and experimenting with glazes: minaʾi and luster

Abu Zayd’s bowl is made with a new ceramic technology called stonepaste. The development of stonepaste in the tenth and early eleventh centuries shaped ceramic production across Egypt and Central Asia. Although it was neither expensive nor luxurious, the advantage of stonepaste was that it could be fashioned into thin walled ceramics, which evoked the highly valued porcelain vessels imported from China. This new medium triggered experimentation with inventive shapes, including functional vessels, tiles, and figural sculpture, as well as new decorative approaches. [1]

Abu Zayd’s stonepaste bowl has a turquoise underglaze and polychrome decoration in the minaʾi technique—one of the most up to date ceramic techniques of his time. Vessels produced with mina’i painting involved applying decoration—in this case color, and occasionally gilding—to an already finished (fired and glazed) product. Minaʾi wares were produced over a white or turquoise glazed base and fully decorated with detailed figural paintings of courtly life, including musicians, dancers, and hunting, as well as narrative scenes and astrological motifs. Minaʾi ware were widely sought after and eventually produced on an industrial scale for a range of patrons, from individuals purchasing in the open market to commissions produced for elite members of the ruler’s court. However, the production of mina’i ware was short lived, lasting only through the early thirteenth century, when they were eclipsed by lusterware, another popular ceramic form. Lusterware became one of the most prized ceramic types associated with the luxury arts, and were widely produced and traded across the Islamic world and later across western Europe. Abu Zayd contributed to the refinement of both of these techniques, producing some of the most complex examples of these glazes. 

Interior inscriptions, Abu Zayd, bowl with a majlis scene by a pond, 1186 C.E., stone paste, glazed in opaque turquoise, polychrome in-glaze- and overglaze- painted, 21.6 cm diameter, Kashan, Iran (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Reciting at the majlis: Abu Zayd’s minaʾi bowl

As mentioned above, Abu Zayd’s bowl depicts a motif that was popular on Iranian ceramics—the majlis (pl. majalis). Courtiers and social and intellectual elites are known to have enjoyed such contests of poetic recitation, often accompanied by other forms of entertainment, including feasting and music.

Verses from poems in Persian or Arabic, benedictions for the owner of a vessel, and on occasion the signature and date of the artist, often adorned 12th-century Iranian minaʾi and lusterware vessels. However, they rarely explained the meaning of the depicted scene. This bowl includes two Persian poems written in naskh script on the interior and exterior, respectively, of the bowl:

Oh body, the sorrow of love will not make you any better (than this)
Will not (help)… your soul and faith
At the end, the sweetness of lust will entrap you
So that love will not make a fool of you

Oh beloved, did you see what the snow (white hair) did to me?
Oh snow (white hair), you told me, but tell my beloved
To the passion (fire) of lovers… and cold (?)
And you are still flirting with me! [2]

Neither of these two poems refer specifically to the events depicted in the bowl. However, in this case, they evoke the setting of the majlis, giving voice to the depicted orator as he recites love poetry. By extension, the owner of the bowl could participate in the majlis by reciting the verses aloud themselves. Perhaps these verses took part in a further intellectual game, where the individual reading the poems could display their intellectual prowess if they could correctly identify the author of the inscribed verses (most of whom were not mentioned by name).

Around the rim of the bowl is yet another inscription, benedictory blessings, or good wishes such as “eternal glory, happiness, victory, and grace,” written in kufic script. [3] Some benedictory inscriptions were addressed directly to the owner, further suggesting that these inscriptions (as well as the poetry) were meant to be read aloud by their owners. In this bowl, Abu Zayd concluded his signature on the exterior of the bowl, writing “long life to its owner and to its writer,” thus invoking the owner of the vessel. Text and image combine together to enliven the majlis scene and engage the viewer in recitation.

Persian poem followed by Abu Zayd’s signature, Abu Zayd, bowl with a majlis scene by a pond, 1186 C.E., stone paste, glazed in opaque turquoise, polychrome in-glaze- and overglaze- painted, 21.6 cm diameter, Kashan, Iran (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

“Its reciter and its writer is Abu Zayd”—Abu Zayd and authorship

On its interior and exterior, Abu Zayd prominently signed the bowl, indicating that he not only created the vessel itself, but also composed at least one of the bowl’s poems. While today we may separate the arts of poetry and ceramics, Abu Zayd’s signatures and his compositions speak to their interrelation in 12th-century Iran. On the interior of the vessel, following the Persian poem, he wrote in Arabic, “I recited it and I wrote it,” and on the exterior he wrote in Arabic: 

Its reciter (qaʾil) and its writer (katib) is Abu Zayd after he made it.
[This] was written on Wednesday the fourth of Muharram of the year five hundred and eighty-two of the Arab Hijra [1186 C.E.]. Long life to its owner and to its writer.

In both, Abu Zayd emphasizes his authorship as going hand in hand with his skills in the ceramic industry. Not only does he claim the oral poem, by calling himself the reciter, but he also takes ownership of its written manifestation on the bowl by describing himself as the writer. In this case, these roles appear to take precedence over the ceramic craft, which is only referred to once. However, on other vessels, Abu Zayd specifies that he made and decorated the work, claiming artistic ownership as well as giving us insight into the division of labor in the ceramic industry. Abu Zayd’s ceramics reveal the distinctive combination of literary and visual worlds in 12th-century Iranian ceramics.

While not every ceramicist was a poet like Abu Zayd, it is possible that many ceramicists themselves engaged in the sophisticated literary culture of the time. With so many ceramic objects inscribed with poetic quatrains and other verses, it seems likely that the verses themselves were recited aloud in the ceramic workshop from an anthology by one ceramicist while another inscribed them on the vessels. [4] 

Abu Zayd died some time after 1220, but his poetry continued to be invoked into the late 13th century. Like so many of the poems he inscribed on his own vessels, his poems eventually became divorced from his name, but were remembered orally and repeated without attribution on luster-painted bowls and tiles well into the late 13th century. [5]  As an artist, scribe, and poet, Abu Zayd and his ceramics left an indelible impact on the literary and visual arts of Iran in the 12th century and beyond.

Timur’s entry into Samarkand, page from a copy of the Zafarnama by Yazdi, c. 1436, opaque watercolor, ink, and gold on paper, 25.9 x 13.2 cm, Iran (Shiraz) (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

A powerful gray horse strides forth against a background of inlaid tiles, alerting residents to the arrival of a special visitor. The horse carries a male rider adorned in a bright overcoat, colorful trousers, an elaborate hat, and a curved sword hanging at his side. This figure is followed by a courtier on a smaller brown horse holding a parasol above the central figure’s head. Textiles dyed in crimson reds, saffron yellows, vibrant greens, and deep blues hang from parapets and windows above as curious on-lookers steal peeks of the majestic procession below. Who is this figure that rides through a colorful city to fanfare and draws attention from its citizens? What did his arrival mean to those who witnessed his entrance, and why was this scene, real or imagined, made into a work of art? 

Detail showing Timur on horseback. Timur’s entry into Samarkand, page from a copy of the Zafarnama by Yazdi, c. 1436, opaque watercolor, ink, and gold on paper, 25.9 x 13.2 cm, Iran (Shiraz) (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

Who was Timur?

Timurid Dynasty at its greatest extent (underlying map © Google)

The central figure in the image depicts the ruler, Timur, also known as Tamerlane. Born in Kesh (later renamed Shakhrisabz in modern day Uzbekistan), an important ancient urban center of Sogdiana, Timur rose from local tribal chieftain to become one of the most powerful conquerors in global history. He gained prominence as a military leader in his mid-twenties and proclaimed rulership around 1370 over one of the four territories that Genghis Khan, the founder of the Mongol empire, had divided among his sons. Timur aspired to restore the supremacy of nomadic people from the Eurasian steppe that had been achieved by the Mongols in the previous century but had since declined (their empire having fragmented into smaller ruling entities). Timur eventually led his forces successfully across a vast territory between the eastern Mediterranean and the Indian subcontinent, including major parts of the Iranian plateau, then known as Persia. 

Before dying at the age of nearly seventy years old en route to attack China in 1405, Timur established one of the largest nomadic empires, now called the Timurids, which lasted from 1370 to 1507. The Timurids, like the Mongols before them, were the latest in a long line of nomadic cultures from the Asian steppe who conquered and politically connected broad regions of Eurasia. The period of the Timurid empire was also marked by the flourishing of art and science in Central Asia. This included adopting elements of Persian and Mongol culture as a means to integrate the Timurids into a prior history of Central Asian kingship.

Timur’s entry into Samarkand (detail), page from a copy of the Zafarnama by Yazdi, c. 1436, opaque watercolor, ink, and gold on paper, 25.9 x 13.2 cm, Iran (Shiraz) (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

The splendor of Samarkand

In the painting of Timur, his procession evokes his majesty as a ruler and his victorious entry into Samarkand (today in Uzbekistan), the city that he chose as the capital of his new empire due to its economic and strategic importance on the Silk Roads. A column of Persian text to the right narrates this processional episode. The image displays the splendor of this ancient city that he further enriched by capturing talented artisans from across his conquered lands and bringing them to Samarkand. For example, under the Timurids, Samarkand became famous for its beautiful ceramic tilework, such as we see here in this image. This was described by the Arab chronicler Ibn ‘Arabshah, who stayed in Samarkand during the reign of Timur: 

Timur took from Damascus learned men and craftsmen and all who excelled in any art, the most skilled weavers, tailors, gem-cutters, carpenters, makers of head-coverings, farriers, painters, bow-makers, falconers, in short, craftsmen of every kind (…) and he divided these companies among the heads of the army and ordered them to lead them to Samarkand.from the Arabic Life of Ahmed ibn ‘Arabshah [1]

The Zafarnama

Page of text in Persian describing Samarkand receiving Timur and his troops, page from a copy of the Zafarnama by Yazdi, c. 1436, opaque watercolor, ink, and gold on paper, 25.9 x 13.2 cm, Iran (Shiraz) (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

This image of Timur on horseback was originally part of a 15th-century manuscript of the Zafarnama (“Book of Victories”), a biography of Timur written in Persian by the scholar Sharaf al-Din Ali Yazdi and the first written text to depict images of Timur’s life and conquests. Having established his dynasty across Eurasia, one of the ways Timur attempted to unify the disparate regions and cultures within his empire was to adopt Persian as the language of administration and literature. Persian had a written history dating back 2,000 years and was already a language of high culture across wide swathes of Asia when Timur rose to power. Persian had also historically been used to document the reigns of kings in West and Central Asia (including by the Mongols). 

Commissioned by Timur’s grandson, Ibrahim Sultan, and completed some 30 years after Timur’s death, the Zafarnama was intended to be viewed and read by political and cultural elites of the Timurid empire rather than by the general public. When Timur died in 1405 there was no clear heir and various male descendants of Timur fought amongst themselves for the right to rule. Ultimately, Ibrahim Sultan’s father, Shahrukh, prevailed. Producing the Zafarnama was one way that Ibrahim Sultan helped to legitimize his rule for contemporaries and future generations, connecting himself to his grandfather and father.

Visual echoes of the Shahanama

Like illustrated texts patronized by earlier Mongol rulers of Persia, the Zafarnama asserted Timur’s descendants’ right to rule over a vast and multi-ethnic territory that had been conquered through force. The earlier Persian manuscripts discussing the history of kings often included  images of those rulers engaged in activities expected of them as kings—such as hunting, waging war, or processing victoriously through cities.

While little is known about the painter who created Timur’s entry into Samarkand or the other illustrations in this volume, it is clear that the artist was familiar with the essential visual tropes of Persian kingship that had developed over the course of the previous century, especially for the Shahnama (“Book of Kings”). An epic poem written in Persian by Ferdawsi around 1000 C.E., the Shahnama recounts the history of Persia and its rulers and heroes prior to the arrival of Islam in the seventh century. The Shahnama was copied many times in the coming centuries and began to be illustrated in the early 14th century while Persia was under Mongol rule.

Detail of Khusraw Parviz before Shirin from a Shahnama (Book of Kings), early 14th century, ink, opaque watercolor, gold and silver on paper (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

Timur’s entry into Samarkand, page from a copy of the Zafarnama by Yazdi, c. 1436, opaque watercolor, ink, and gold on paper, 25.9 x 13.2 cm, Iran (Shiraz) (Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.)

In a copy of the Shahnama produced in 14th-century West Asia under Mongol patronage, an illustration depicts Khusraw Parviz, a Sasanian king from the late 6th and early 7th centuries, riding an athletic black horse while an attendant holds a parasol (chatr) above his head. The parasol had been used for centuries in Persian culture as a symbol of kingship. Khusraw’s lover, Shirin, looks out at him from a window above. Drawing on this type of pictorial convention (though perhaps not from this particular copy), the unnamed painter of Timur in the Zafarnama created a similar equestrian image of the ruler from the Asian steppe, echoing that of an earlier Persian king. 

Constructing Timur’s equestrian image 

Taken together, the text and image portray Timur not as a savage foreign conqueror from the Eurasian steppe, but as the embodiment of Persian kingship—one who could fight and win but could also rule over beautiful cities. It is possible that Timur’s descendant, Ibrahim Sultan, who commissioned this copy of the Zafarnama required a carefully crafted image of Timur that conformed to existing conventions of kingship in Persian art and literature as a response to criticism. For example, Ibn ‘Arabshah (quoted earlier) described the conqueror in a critical manner, arguing that “he [Timur] destroyed right custom and went forth wicked with insolent swords that moved hither and thither.” [2] Inserting Timur into established visual conventions of kingship developed first in Persia and later adopted by its Mongol rulers in the 14th century transformed the image of Timur on horseback into political propaganda.

While Timur is depicted in the Zafarnama in a variety of ways, including sitting cross-legged on the floor, his equestrian image would have been the most recognizable embodiment of his royal legacy to cultured audiences familiar with such conventions. In Persian culture, the horse was a key symbol of kingship, providing the king with the means to be a fierce warrior but also a stately and majestic monarch. Additionally, for the Mongols and the Timurids—as traditionally nomadic peoples—horseback riding was a way of life, and both cultures were known as master horsemen.

Equestrian statue of Timur Lang [Amir Temur], by Ikhom Jabbarov, 1994, Tashkent, Uzbekistan (photo: Matthew Goulding, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0). See another angle of the statue.

Measuring the impact of Timur’s equestrian image 

Though his empire fractured into several autonomous states ruled by his successors and went into sharp decline in the second half of the 15th century, copies of the Zafarnama and depictions of Timur on horseback did persist for a short while. [3] Still, after the 16th century, Timur’s legacy quickly vanished within Central Asia, and he was largely forgotten in the wider world until the 1990s. The convention of showing Timur as a majestic ruler on horseback resurfaced in 1991 when the Republic of Uzbekistan gained independence from the Soviet Union and took much of the historical territories of the Timurid empire (excepting Iran but including the former capital Samarkand). In 1993, an imposing bronze equestrian statue of Timur was placed in the main square of Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, to emphasize a historical link between the glory of the Timurid empire and the recently established nation of Uzbekistan. For Uzbekistan—as a new nation in post-Soviet Central Asia—the 20th-century equestrian statue of Timur offers a visual echo of Timur’s entry into Samarkand from the 15th century, reviving an image asserting political legitimacy into the modern world.

Essay by Suh Sungho

Reliquary Set Offered by Yi Seonggye, 1390 and 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), discovered on Wolchulbong Peak, Mt. Geumgang in Gangwon Province, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

On October 6, 1932, workers creating a firebreak near Wolchulbong Peak (elevation: 1580 meters) on Mt. Geumgang discovered a stone casket containing an inscribed reliquary set, used to enshrine sarira. According to the inscriptions, the reliquary set was enshrined at Birobong Peak (elevation: 1638 meters) on Mt. Geumgang in May 1391 by Yi Seonggye and his wife, along with about 10,000 supporters, in order to commemorate the group’s anticipation of Maitreya Buddha’s descension to this world. Notably, approximately fourteen months later, Yi Seonggye—a military official from an influential family in the remote borderlands—led the overthrow of the Goryeo Dynasty and became King Taejo, founder of the Joseon Dynasty. It is not known why sarira reliquaries originally enshrined at Birobong Peak were discovered at Wolchulbong Peak.

Gilt-silver Lama-pagoda-shaped sarira container, c. 1390 (Goryeo Dynasty), 15.5 cm high (when assembled), Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

Two sarira reliquary containers enclosed in a bronze container

Assembled gilt-silver Lama-pagoda-shaped sarira container, c. 1390 (Goryeo Dynasty), 15.5 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

This sarira reliquary set includes a total of nine pieces made from silver, bronze, and white porcelain, including a small container shaped like a Lama pagoda, which was placed inside other vessels. The pagoda-shaped container fit atop a short silver cylinder with a lotus support. Inside the pagoda-shaped container was a thin glass cylinder that was sealed at both ends with metal, where the actual sarira was likely kept. The exterior of the short silver cylinder is inscribed with Yi Seonggye’s name, his honorary title of “gongsin,”  his government position, and his wife’s family name.

The cylinder was covered by the miniature Lama pagoda, which was made by attaching a small pagoda finial to an egg-shaped body. The egg-shaped body is incised on four sides with standing Buddhas looking straight ahead. The finial was fabricated with a highly advanced repoussé technique, which involves pressing a thin sheet of silver against an embossed incised design, and then delicately tapping the sheet until it takes on the three-dimensional form of the design.

To form the lotus support, three silver plates cut into the shapes of lotus flowers were placed atop a round base, which was then affixed to the pedestal, made from a thin sheet of silver decorated with the repoussé technique. The legs of the support have a unique shape that resembles a version of the ruyi motif.

The entire pagoda-shaped container (aside from the internal glass cylinder) is made from silver that was partially gilded with gold. Partial gilding has rarely been seen on extant Goryeo metalcrafts or sarira reliquaries, and is thus estimated to have been a new style at the time.

Gilt-silver octagonal house-shaped reliquary container, 1390 (Goryeo Dynasty), 19.8 cm high (when assembled), Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

The pagoda-shaped container was sealed inside a larger sarira container that is shaped like an octagonal house. The house-shaped reliquary container was also assembled by fitting the body atop a short silver octagonal cylinder that is attached to a separate lotus support. The surface of the silver cylinder is inscribed with its production date (March 1390) and the names of patrons, which include noblewomen, monks, high-ranking officials, and the person who is believed to have overseen the production of the reliquary set.

The silver cylinder is covered with the house-shaped body, the surface of which is decorated with incised Buddhas, like the Lama pagoda reliquary container. The Buddhas are rendered with their feet apart, hands clasped, and looking straight ahead. Although this pose is rarely seen in Goryeo Buddhist paintings, it is fairly common in early Joseon art, and is thus considered one of the characteristic new styles of the Joseon period.

Bronze bowl-shaped container with dotted inscription around the mouth, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 11.5 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

The octagonal house-shaped container was put inside a larger bronze container. In dotted lines, an inscription around the exterior of the mouth of the bronze container lists the names of the patrons who paid to have the container produced in February 1391. Notably, the inscription refers to the bronze container as a “sarira container with a lid,” although no lid was found with the container. Traces of a chisel can be discerned on both the interior and exterior of the container, indicating that it was forged, rather than cast.

White porcelain bowl #2, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 17.5 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

White porcelain bowls, incense case, incense burner, and silver tool

White porcelain bowl #1, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 19.5 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

A bronze bowl-shaped container (holding the house-shaped container and the pagoda-shaped reliquary container) was placed inside one of the white porcelain bowls (henceforth, bowl #2). At the time of discovery, the mouth of bowl #2 was broken. The interior well of bowl #2 bears an inscription providing more details about the reliquary set. Entitled “Enshrining Sarira on Birobong Peak of Mt. Geumgang,” the inscription states that Yi Seonggye and his wife, along with about 10,000 supporters (including a monk named Woram and various noblewomen), donated and enshrined this reliquary set on Birobong Peak of Mt. Geumgang in May 1391, to express their anticipation of Maitreya’s descension to this world.

Estimated to be an incense case, another white porcelain bowl (henceforth, bowl #1) has an inscription on the exterior surface declaring that Yi Seonggye and about 10,000 supporters donated the bowl in April 1391 while waiting for Maitreya’s descension. Although the inscriptions on the two bowls are very similar, the one on bowl #2 contains a few more details about the patrons and the location of the enshrinement.

Bowl #2 has another inscription on the foot, documenting that a monk named Singwan and a potter named Sim Ryong from Bangsan (present-day Bangsan-myeon, Yanggu-gun, Gangwon Province) jointly donated the bowl in April 1391. Thus, Sim Ryong may have created this bowl and then given it to Yi Seonggye. In recent years, excavations around Bangsan-myeon, Yanggu-gun have uncovered white porcelain shards dating from the fourteenth or fifteenth century, which have the same base clay, glaze, and firing method as these white porcelain bowls.

Left: white porcelain bowl #3, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 13.6 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea); center: white porcelain bowl #4, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 9.8 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea); right: white porcelain incense burner, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 12.3 cm high, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

All of the white porcelain vessels from this sarira reliquary set—bowl #1, bowl #2, two more white porcelain bowls (henceforth, bowls #3 and #4), and a white porcelain incense burner—have great significance in the history of Korean ceramics. These vessels are made from a new type of white porcelain, which differs from contemporaneous Goryeo white porcelain. They are considered to represent the precursor to the “hard quality” white porcelain that the Joseon Dynasty became famous for. Furthermore, the inscriptions confirm that these vessels were produced in Bangsan, information that has tremendous historical value.

Silver tool, 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), 15.5 cm long, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

Thus far, all of the vessels that have been discussed have inscriptions, but the reliquary set also includes four items with no inscription: a small silver tool, bowl #3, bowl #4, and a white porcelain incense burner. Made by tapping a long sheet of silver, the small silver tool has sometimes been called an “earpick,” although it was more likely used to scoop the sarira into the container. The incense burner follows the overall style of Goryeo incense burners, although with the unique detail of having a foot, rather than a flared base. Bowls #3 and #4 were likely used as the lids for bowls #1 and #2, respectively.

Although it is not particularly ornate, the sarira reliquary set has great significance for art history. Both the partial gilding technique and the repoussé technique are decorative styles that have rarely been seen on other contemporaneous metalcrafts. In addition, the depiction of the Buddhas looking straight ahead on the two metal containers resembles early Joseon art, rather than late Goryeo art. As mentioned, the white porcelain vessels correspond to the new “hard quality” white porcelain of the Joseon period, rather than contemporaneous Goryeo white porcelain. Representing a bridge between art of the late Goryeo and early Joseon periods, this sarira reliquary set is an invaluable artifact that enhances our understanding of the overall development of Korean art.

Artworks with unparalleled historical significance

Portrait of King Taejo of Joseon (formerly known as Yi Seonggye),1872, reproduction of the original from the Joseon Dynasty, painting (Gyeonggijeon Shrine, Jeonju; photo: Cultural Heritage Administration, Republic of Korea)

Beyond its status as a work of art, this sarira reliquary set has unparalleled significance for Korean history, because of its relation to Yi Seonggye, the founder of the Joseon Dynasty. As a military official from an influential family in the borderlands, Yi Seonggye initially had no power or prestige in the Goryeo central government. But because of his role in repelling foreign attacks by Japanese pirates and quelling the Red Turban Rebellion, he became a war hero and a revered defender of the nation and royal court. As a result, this little-known figure from a remote area quickly rose to power, gaining a following among the government and the general public.

In the midst of territorial conflicts with China’s Ming Dynasty, Goryeo’s King U became determined to attack the Liaodong region. By royal order, Yi Seonggye was chosen to lead the Goryeo troops for this attack. But opposing the attack, Yi made the momentous decision to turn the army around at Wihwa Island, near the border formed by the Amnokgang River. Just as it would be today, turning the troops around was an act of treason, which could have cost Yi his life. Instead, he led a successful coup, eliminating his political opponents and taking over Gaegyeong, Goryeo’s capital. Thus, a once obscure military figure had assumed total control of the Goryeo Dynasty.

In May 1391, Yi Seonggye and his followers dedicated this sarira reliquary set on Birobong Peak of Mt. Geumgang, which is believed to have been a sacred Buddhist site. Three years had passed since Yi seized power, and his political ambitions were at their zenith. Also in May 1391, a group of powerful literati who followed Yi enacted the Gwajeon Law, an extensive and unprecedented land reform. This law enabled Yi and his followers to repossess large parcels of land that had been illegally occupied by the existing Goryeo powers. Other beneficiaries of the Gwajeon Law included farmers whose land had been taken or whose harvests were plundered by the Goryeo rulers.

Reliquary Set Offered by Yi Seonggye, 1390 and 1391 (Goryeo Dynasty), discovered on Wolchulbong Peak, Mt. Geumgang in Gangwon Province, Treasure 1925 (National Museum of Korea)

Within this context, Yi Seonggye’s dedication of this sarira reliquary set, along with around 10,000 of his followers, can be seen as a carefully planned political event, rather than a mere religious ritual. In about fourteen months, Yi would bring an end to the Goryeo Dynasty and become the first king of the Joseon Dynasty. At the time of the offering, Yi’s contingent of followers may have begun to associate him with Maitreya, who had been promised to return to save people from suffering and open a new world. According to Buddhist lore, Maitreya will appear 5,670,000,000 years after Shakyamuni Buddha’s attainment of nirvana. By spreading three teachings, Maitreya will transform our world into paradise and save all sentient beings, in the manner of a messiah.

Although we cannot know for certain what motivated Yi Seonggye and his followers to offer this sarira reliquary set, the coincidence of this dedication with the Gwajon Law is now seen as a seminal moment in time, when the decline of the 500-year-old Goryeo Dynasty intersected with the rise of Yi Seonggye and the Joseon Dynasty. Commissioned by Yi Seonggye, this sarira reliquary set has profound significance as both an important work of art and a crucial artifact for Korean history. [1]

Essay by Park Jun-ho

Document Related to the Property Inheritance from Yi Seong-gye (King Taejo of the Joseon Dynasty) to His Daughter Princess Suksin, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 56.5 x 55.5 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 515)

In 1401, this legal document was written by Yi Seonggye, the founder and first king of the Joseon Dynasty, who reigned for six years as King Taejo (太祖). In this document, Yi Seonggye relays his instructions regarding his inheritance, specifically pertaining to a house that he wished to bequeath to his daughter Myeochi (㫆致), or Princess Suksin (淑愼翁主), the youngest child of his union with a royal consort. Yi Seonggye’s signature appears on the left side of the document, along with his royal seal on the right. Believed to have been handwritten by King Taejo himself, this document was inscribed into stone and used to produce rubbings, one of which was included in Collected Calligraphy Works by Kings (列聖御筆). Today, many different museums and libraries have copies of these rubbings, but this document has special significance as the original from which those copies were produced.

Yi Seonggye: a loving and dutiful father

Even after more than 500 years, this document resonates with Yi Seonggye’s deep love and concern for his daughter. At the beginning of the text, Yi Seonggye wrote, “Myeochi is still very young, and a girl born to a royal consort. But since I am nearing seventy years of age, I believe that I must address this situation now.” He then wrote a detailed list of the items that should be inherited by Myeochi in the event of his death. The text is somewhat difficult to decipher, because of the use of obscure terms and the idu writing system. Even so, the main point of the document is that Yi Seonggye ordered the construction of a house that would be handed down to Myeochi and her descendants. The text states that Yi had purchased an “empty lot and foundation stones that once belonged to Heo Geum, located in Hyangbang-dong in the east of Seoul,” and that he wanted a new roof-tiled wooden house built on the lot, with a size of 24 kan (one kan being the standard space between four pillars). The document concludes by declaring that Myeochi and her descendants should be allowed to “live in the house for perpetuity, and that, should any dispute arise, this inheritance document should be brought to the appropriate government office as legal validation for a proper judgment.”

Stone Inscribed with the Inheritance Document of Yi Seonggye, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, 31.2–31.4 x 42.9–43 x 8-8.3 cm (National Palace Museum of Korea)

Discovery of this document, as recorded in Annals of the Joseon Dynasty

Detailed records about the discovery and early preservation of this document can be found in The Annals of the Joseon Dynasty. In 1746, King Yeongjo (英祖) was supervising the state examination in Chundangdae, Changgyeonggung Palace, when the document was presented to him by Hong Cheonbo, a Neo-Confucian student from Isan, Chungcheong Province. Being a descendant of the family of Hong Hae (Princess Suksin’s husband), Hong Cheonbo said that this document had been handed down in his family for generations. As a reward, King Yeongjo conferred a government post to Hong Cheonbo. It is further recorded that, in future years, many people brought documents to government offices, claiming that they had been personally written by previous kings.

Believing that this document had been personally written by King Taejo himself, King Yeongjo ordered the calligraphy to be precisely inscribed in stone. He then had rubbings of the stone produced and published in Collected Calligraphy Works by Kings, which was widely distributed. The original stone inscribed with this document is now housed in the National Palace Museum of Korea.

Stone Inscribed with the Inheritance Document of Yi Seonggye, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, 31.2–31.4 x 42.9–43 x 8-8.3 cm (National Palace Museum of Korea)

This document is an extremely rare example of an inheritance document for a member of the royal court from the earliest years of the Joseon Dynasty. Also, whereas most such documents pertain to the inheritance of land, slaves, or servants, this document uniquely describes the inheritance of a house. Furthermore, it is considered to be an invaluable resource for studying the language of the time and the use of the idu writing system.

Full translation of the text

On September 15, 1401, I write this inheritance document for Myeochi (㫆致), my child from a consort. Myeochi is still very young, and a girl born to a royal consort. But since I am nearing seventy years of age, I believe that I must address this situation now. I purchased an empty lot located in Hyangbang-dong in the east of Seoul, which formerly belonged to the late prime minister Heo Geum, along with the well-trimmed foundation stones in the lot. I order servants to build a wooden house on this lot, with the following rooms and dimensions: the middle two kan will have a maru on both the front and back, with one kan added to the east, and a one-kan kitchen, all of which will be covered with a tiled roof. There will also be a three-kan drinking room; a three-kan storage shed with a front and back maru; a two-kan attic storeroom; a four-kan inner-sarang; a two-kan room in the west with a front and back maru; and a three-kan room in the south with a front maru. All of these structures will have a straw-thatched roof. Finally, there will be a three-kan attic storeroom with a tiled roof. I herein bequeath this new house, with a total area of twenty-four kan, along with the deeds to the lot and the foundation stones of Heo Geum, to my daughter Myeochi. She and her descendants should be allowed to live in the house for perpetuity. If any dispute should arise, this inheritance document should be brought to the appropriate government office as legal validation for a proper judgment.

Original text:

建文參年辛巳玖月拾伍日 妾生女子旀致亦中 文字成給爲□□事叱段 必于年小
妾生是去有而亦 今如 矣身年將七十 一任爲乎不喩 東部屬香房洞空□□故
宰臣許錦戶代 熟石幷以 交易爲旀 材木乙良 奴子乙用良 斫取造家爲□身梗貳
間前後退瓦蓋 東付舍壹間瓦蓋 厨舍壹間瓦蓋 酒房参間草蓋 庫房参
間前後退草蓋 樓上庫貳間草蓋 內斜廊肆間草蓋 西房貳間前後退草蓋 南廳
参間前退草蓋 又樓上庫参間瓦蓋 合貳拾肆間等乙 交易本文記幷以 許與爲去乎
在等以 永永居住爲乎矣 後次別爲所有去等 此文字內事意乙用良 告官辨別
子孫傳持鎭長居住爲乎事
太上王(御押)

*Although some of the characters in the original document are illegible, the translation was completed by consulting the rubbing of the inscription in Collected Calligraphy Works by Kings, produced in the Joseon period.

Essay by Seo Yunhee

Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (Poetry Scroll Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati) (detail), 1450, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 33 x 1600 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 1404)

Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (Poetry Book Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati), 1450, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 33 x 1600 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 1404)

In 1450, the thirty-second year of the reign of King Sejong, envoys from the Ming Dynasty came to Joseon to officially pronounce the ascension of Emperor Jingdi. The Ming envoys were received by a select group of Joseon officials, and the two groups exchanged poems that they had written and compiled especially for the occasion. Some of those poems are collected in this scroll, Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (奉使朝鮮倡和詩卷, Poetry Scroll Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati).

The scroll includes thirty-three poems, along with two rhyming prose texts known as bu (賦): “Seoljedeungnubu” (雪霽登樓賦), written by Ni Qian of the Ming Dynasty, and “Hwaseoljedeungnubu” (和雪霽登樓賦), a response written by Shin Sukju of Joseon. The thirty-three poems include fifteen by Ni Qian; six by Jeong Inji (鄭麟趾); six by Shin Sukju; and six by Seong Sammun. Each poem is stamped with the seal of its author.

Written on the exterior of the scroll is the title: 明倪文僖公奉使朝鮮倡和詩卷 (Poetry Scroll Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati). Two other inscriptions on the cover—光緖乙巳重裝 and 唐風樓藏—indicate that the scroll was remounted in 1905 by Luo Zhenyu, an epigraphist of the late Qing Dynasty, who had his own library called Tangfenglou (唐風樓). Unrolling the scroll, the first text reads “奉使朝鮮倡和詩冊” (Poetry Book Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati) in seal-script calligraphy by the writer Wang Shuan, a contemporary of Ni Qian. Colophons by Tang Hanti and Luo Zhenyu of the Qing Dynasty can be found at the end of the scroll. In addition, six Korean art historians and researchers—Kim Sanggi (金庠基), Yi Byeongdo (李丙燾), Kim Dujong (金斗鍾), Yi Yonghui (李用熙), Jeon Hyeongpil (全鎣弼), and Won Chunghui (元忠喜)—added their own evaluations in 1958 after the handscroll was brought to Korea.

Very few materials from the early Joseon period have survived, making this scroll an important historical document for understanding Joseon’s diplomacy with the Ming Dynasty. Furthermore, since all of the poems were handwritten in the unique styles of the respective authors, the scroll is an essential resource for studying the calligraphy of the early Joseon Dynasty.

Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (Poetry Book Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati) (detail), 1450, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 33 x 1600 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 1404)

Beginning of tribute-investiture system between Ming and Joseon

Rising from the ranks of the general populace, Zhu Yuanzhang led the overthrow of the Yuan Dynasty (1271–1368) and became Emperor Taizu, founder of the Ming Dynasty. Being wary of foreign powers, Emperor Taizu was suspicious that Joseon maintained relations with the former Yuan people, who had been driven back into the area that is now Mongolia. Claiming that some of the terminology in Joseon’s diplomatic documents was disrespectful, the Ming emperor refused or detained Joseon envoys who attempted to cross the border. As a newly founded state, Joseon (established in 1392) sought to strengthen its legitimacy by gaining recognition and approval from the Ming, who were the strongest power in the region at the time. Although the Joseon Dynasty continually dispatched its envoys to Ming three times a year, Emperor Taizu remained steadfast in his refusal to accept them. Only after Emperor Taizu’s death in 1398 was Joseon able to establish an amicable tribute-investiture relationship with Ming, in accordance with the usual political practices of the time.

Significance of Ni Qian as leader of the Ming envoys

In 1450, a group of Ming envoys led by Ni Qian came to Joseon to officially pronounce the ascension of Emperor Jingdi. A year earlier, after the Ming were invaded by Esen Tayisi of the Oirat Mongols, Wang Zhen, a eunuch with great influence in the Ming court, had proposed that Emperor Yingzong should personally lead 500,000 troops on the counterattack. While leading the campaign, Emperor Yingzong was taken prisoner by the Oirat army, causing his brother to ascend to the throne as Emperor Jingdi, the seventh emperor of Ming.

Poems by Ni Qian (right) and Seong Sammun (left), Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (Poetry Book Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati) (detail), 1450, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 33 x 1600 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 1404)

On December 13, 1449, a group of envoys led by Ni Qian, who was then serving as an expositor-in-waiting (侍講) of the Hanlin Academy (翰林院), and Sima Xun (司馬恂) left Beijing to deliver the official edict of the imperial accession. The group spent twenty-seven days traveling from Beijing to Liaoyang and twenty-one days traveling from Liaodong to Hanyang (present-day Seoul); then, after staying in Hanyang for twenty days, they returned to Liaodong in fourteen days. Ni Qian wrote his account of this trip as Chronicles of Travel to Joseon (朝鮮紀事), published in 1469 as the third volume of The Liaohai Compilation (遼海編). The first and second volumes of The Liaohai Compilation include Ni Qian’s poems about the landscape and his impressions from the round-trip between Beijing and Hanyang. In the third volume, which takes the form of a journal, Ni Qian recorded his day-to-day experiences on the journey, beginning from Liaodong on January 10, covering his stay in Hanyang, and concluding with the return to the Amnokgang River on February 3. By collectively examining all three volumes, we can reconstruct the full trajectory of the Ming envoys’ travels. Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon includes some of the poems that were exchanged after the Ming envoys arrived in Hanyang and visited the shrine of Confucius inside the Royal Academy on their return to the Amnokgang River.

Praised by his colleagues as a scholar of the highest order, with expertise in Confucianism and literature, Ni Qian was the expositor-in-waiting of the Hanlin Academy and the closest advisor to the emperor. Based on such skills and knowledge, he was chosen to lead the Ming envoys on the important diplomatic mission to Joseon. Prior to Ni Qian, most of the Ming envoys who had been sent to Joseon were eunuchs, who had typically been very aloof, and sometimes even tyrannical, in their dealings with Joseon. Thus, the Ming’s decision to send a revered literati scholar was greatly welcomed by Joseon. Upon receiving the news that Ni Qian would be coming as an envoy, the Joseon royal court assembled its own best literati scholars, such as Jeong Inji, Shin Sukju, and Seong Sammun, to received the Ming diplomats.

Poems by Ni Qian (right) and Jeong Inji (left), Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (Poetry Book Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati) (detail), 1450, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 33 x 1600 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 1404)

Joseon scholars welcome Ni Qian

As members of the “Hall of Worthies”(集賢殿), Jeong Inji, Seong Sammun, and Shin Sukju were highly favored by King Sejong. At the time, Jeong was fifty-five years old, Shin was thirty-four years old, and Seong Sammun was thirty-three years old, while the Ming envoy Ni Qian was thirty-six years old. After crossing the border into Joseon, Ni Qian composed several poems about his journey, but he did not exchange these poems with the Joseon officials until the group visited the shrine of Confucius at the Royal Academy. Records indicate that the Ming and Joseon scholars exchanged poems several times during the visit. At first, the two groups used the poems to subtly compete and feel each other out. Soon enough, however, they began to feel true affection for one another, as well as deep literary and personal respect. Indeed, when it came time for the Ming envoys to depart, both sides shed tears of sadness. According to Seong Hyeon (成俔) in Assorted Writings of Seong Hyeon (慵載叢話), Ni Qian particularly admired Jeong Inji, telling him that “one night of conversing with you is better than ten years of reading books.” But Ni Qian also felt deep love for Shin Sukju and Seong Sammun (who were close to his own age), such that the three established an official “Brotherhood Relationship.”

Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon (Poetry Book Between Ming Envoys and Joseon Literati) (detail), 1450, Joseon Dynasty, Korea, ink on paper, 33 x 1600 cm (The National Museum of Korea, Treasure 1404)

Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon: beginning of “Hwanghwajip”

This scroll marked the beginning of the tradition of “Hwanghwajip” (皇華集), which was the practice of compiling and publishing poems that had been exchanged between Joseon officials and Ming envoys. Prior to this group of envoys, Ming had usually delivered its royal edicts to Joseon through eunuchs who had been born in Joseon, who served solely as messengers. Starting from the reigns of Emperor Jingdi and King Sejong, however, Ming began sending civil officials who were well-versed in literature and Confucianism. Starting from Bongsa Joseon Changhwa Sigwon, twenty-four volumes of “Hwanghwajip” poems were published over a period of about 180 years, concluding in 1633. Then in 1773, King Yeongjo ordered that all of these publications be compiled and republished as a new anthology of “Hwanghwajip,” consisting of twenty-five volumes.

Poetry exchanges: the literary pride of Joseon and Ming

In addition to forging friendships between individual scholars, the poetry exchanges played a crucial role in demonstrating the depth and quality of Joseon culture, and thus elevating Ming’s opinion of its neighbor. Indeed, Ni Qian was very impressed with the nobility and sophistication of the Joseon scholars’ reply to his poetry, which helped to lay the foundation for the friendly relations between the two countries. By regularly welcoming Ming envoys with luxurious tribute goods and recruiting gifted officials to participate in the poetry exchanges, Joseon built a strong relationship with the Ming, which lasted until the latter’s fall in 1644.