THANGKA MEMORIES

Lhasa, an old and mysterious city and the capital of Tibet, is one of the most popular tourist destinations in recent years. Tibet has a total population of three million residents. However, one can easily observe on the street that Tibetans have become minority in their own city due to the presence of Chinese merchants and tourists. With the growing number of Chinese merchants in the region, consumer culture of today is encroaching on the legacy of the ancient history and unique religious practice of Tibet. One of the most poignant expression of spirituality is art. Tibet’s proudest religious art form is Thangka, paintings of the Buddha on canvas. Thangka is going through rather aggressive changes as the market landscape is centering on the influx of tourists. But there are still Tibetan artists who try to resist the encroachment and struggle to hold on to their tradition.   

 

In the holy city of Lhasa, a group of renowned Tibetan art masters has shouldered the task to repair the nearly four-century-old wall paintings in the Potala Palace. Norpu Sithar is one of the artists working on this task. He is also the headmaster of the Lhasa Thangka Academy where poor kids from the rural area can study the art free of charge and get stipend from the local government. Norpu says that young students here often remind him of his first years learning the art.

 

“ I used to live in the village when I was younger. Most of the time we farm. But farming was too dull compared to painting, so I started to like the idea of becoming an artist. Some of my friends couldn’t stand parents and teachers pressuring them to learn it. They wanted to play all the time, especially when adults are not around. But I was more concentrated. Just like most of my students here,” he said.  

 

But learning was not that easy back in the day.

 

Norpu learned the art from his grandfather. “It was hard for us to have a look at the old wall paintings from elsewhere, because transportation was inconvenient and we didn’t have cameras,” he said. “Information like that is much more accessible to students now. Our students can easily send pictures of Thangka from here to there. Relatively speaking, learning is much easier these days.”

 

Tsewang Dhondup is a college dropout. He went to a university in inland China for two years, but he quit after he found out that he was not interested in books. Instead, he enrolled in Norpu’s academy almost two years ago.

 

“When I used to study, I would fall asleep as soon as I put on my glasses. Glasses were great sleeping pills. I talked to my family about it. Because I always loved painting, my mom figured it might be a good idea to learn Thangka from Mr. Norpu. Besides, they don’t charge any tuition here. So I decided to come. Now, I read Tibet history and Tibetan art history in my native language. I can understand all of it,” he told us.

 

Students here range from 12-year-olds to those who are in their thirties. Most of them come from poor families. Some didn’t even go to school.  The most important thing in common is that everyone can read fluently the Buddhist scriptures, because most people in Tibet are Buddhists.

 

Norpu explained the Thangka culture. Every household in Tibet has a worship room for Buddha statue. In ancient days, people used to herd animals for a living in the region. They would spend summer in one place and move to another for winter. People can easily roll a canvas of Thangka and travel with it. The main content of the art is Buddha himself, because it is an important medium of worship. The paintings can also reflect Buddha’s life stories, and knowledge about astronomy, geography and Tibetan medicine. In Tibetan Buddhism, Thangka and wall paintings in the temples are highly respected forms of art. Tibetan Thangka artists have to know the ratio and standard in order to paint. They must be able to read Tibetan, since everything is defined in scriptures. Besides, artists better not drink alcohol or smoke out of respect as a Buddhist. They also need to remain peaceful; otherwise, they won’t be able to work.

 

A student has to go through years of training before one can complete his or her first independent work. One needs to first learn the theory and standards, which basically means the precise ratio of, for example, the face to the body. If it is not exact, the art loses its sacred value. Essentially, it loses all value. then, the student learns how to sketch and color; after about nine or ten years of practicing, the student can finally graduate with skills and confidence. The master remembers his first piece as if he just completed it yesterday.

 

“My first independent painting was for my grandfather’s sixtieth birthday. It is a very significant birthday in our culture. The family had to consult the lamas regarding what content should go onto the Thangka as part of the tradition. I drew Jetsun Dolma for my grandfather. It is still hanging in the house back home. Because the painting is for good wishes, I had to finish it in a day – start painting at sunrise and finish it by sunset. It was really a challenging task,” Norpu said.

 

Do art students today still hold the same believes in the art as their teacher? Tourism in Tibet is booming. Xinhua news agency reports that the number of visitors to Tibet from in 2013 achieved a record high increase of 22 percent compared to the previous year. During this period, tourist driven economy generated 30 percent more revenue.

Tsewang told us how he manage to find a balance between learning how to paint and his personal life. “We are not allowed to drink or smoke. When I first got here, I had lunch with Mr. Norpu. I drank and smoked, but he said nothing. Later on, he reasoned with me and became more strict in terms of these behaviors. I was convinced. Smoking and drinking are disrespectful to the Buddha. I might contaminate the painting. But quit smoking is hard. Now I still smoke, but only over the weekend so that I don’t smell like cigarettes and get caught at work.”

 

Tsewang has a very pragmatic goal in mind.

 

“My former classmates all got government jobs. Their grades were just like mine. I’m not interested in those jobs. If I work hard, I can be my own boss. To get promoted as a civil servant professional in Tibet probably takes around 20 years. But if I work hard and start my own business, I could be successful in a decade. I hope I could provide for my family with my own job and earnings. I want to live an abundant life. And I want to be able to help others. That is success, at least in my mind,” he said. 

 

A couple of minutes away from the academy, is the most robust shopping area in Lhasa city, Bakhor street. Thousands of tourists flock here every day to discover local souvenirs they can take home. Among the most popular items is Thangka. Ranging in price, a masterpiece could sell one to two hundred thousand dollars, yet how many of them actually possess the value is the question.

 

“On Bakhor, you see a lot of people that claim to be artists and pretend to paint on canvases in their shops, but what they are really selling are print copies from Bhutan or Nepal,” said Norpu. “Because of that, my colleagues in the art field and I think the future for real Thangka is diminishing. Most of the tourists visiting Bakhor can’t really distinguish what’s real and what’s not. The rising quantities of the paintings in the market are suspicious. Real art is rare. After all, artists are not machines, and a person needs at least six to seven years of practice to become a true master of this art.”

 

Among the Thangka artists and merchants on Bakhor is Zhu Yong, a former lecturer at Anhui University in China and a soon-to-be author of a book about Thangka. He thinks the future for the Tibetan art is blessed by the increasing attention on the paintings as tourists frequent Tibet.

 

“It’s actually great that everyone is appreciating this art. Compared to fake jewelries and beads, buying Thangka is much more worthwhile. It’s a great decoration, and the mineral coloring doesn’t fade for decades. It’s both beautiful and meaningful. Why is it a bad thing?” he said. “There’s great art in every era. It’s not necessarily true that old art is better. Artistic expression and techniques of artists in the past are not remotely comparable to today’s.”

 

Zhu also thinks the art is going through a new phase of evolution.

“Commercialization of Thangka is not necessarily bad. It should not be viewed as the decline or degeneration of the art. The word commercialization is neither positive, nor negative. It’s very neutral,” Zhu said.

 

“In fact, it’s quite questionable whether commercialization applies to this particular form of art. We can only say, rules for creating the art are not as strict as before, and it’s solely because of the shift in demand. In the past, people used Thangka as an important worship medium. But, people today buy the art for its artistic functions. If it meets people’s needs, of course it can be mass produced.”

 

But local artists like Norpu are still not convinced that Thangka can ever be seen as a secular object.

 

Norpu was adamant that Thangka should not be treated like other forms of art. “The content is very religious. If it’s not crafted in accordance to the high standards, it loses the point. I think it’s meaningless. You simply can’t just paint the Buddha and call it Thangka,” he said.

 

Although Thangka is Norpu’s family tradition, he doesn’t want his daughter to pursue this career. He knows if his kid can get some education, she will be able to do much more in her future. But for worse off families, sending teenagers to train here is a not bad solution to escape poverty.

 

When it comes to the debate between modernity and tradition, it seems like there is no clear line to separate the two.