Pigments of Faith: Colorful Masterworks at Hemis Monastery
Scholars in the classical Himalayan tradition of color theory generally split the study of color into three parts: pigment materials ( tsön dzé / ཚོན་རྫས་), color symbolism (tsön jung / ཚོན་འབྱུང་), and color techniques ( tsön tsal / ཚོན་རྩལ་). In an earlier series of articles on the subject, I adopted the traditional "five primary colors" framework—or six, if black is counted—to discuss in detail the fundamental meanings and specialized application techniques of these primal hues.
Today's piece, titled "masterpieces of color," is meant to complement the earlier conversations. Still, it should be stressed that a full grasp of Tibetan color theory cannot be achieved through the existing articles alone. In order to fill that void, I intend to write a further two or three articles, focusing on pigment materials—covering their origins and how to identify them—as well as the techniques of applying color in Tibetan practice, including the steps and methods involved.
To fully grasp the distinctive power of Tibetan color theory, one must examine a complete artwork that is firmly situated in its context as a single, coherent case study. Earlier sections, though they reviewed many great works and their fine details, were not cohesive because the pieces differed across artistic conventions and regional customs.
Rob Linrothe (1951-), an American scholar of Asian art history, observes that within various Tibetan artistic traditions, the "Eighty-Four Mahasiddhas Group" (གྲུབ་ཆེན་བརྒྱད་ཅུ་གྱ་བཞི་) appears as painting patterns (color-line-structure) that are distinct yet textually compliant. This account comes from his work "Demonic Divine: Himalayan Art and beyond," a piece recognized as "A Masterpiece on the History of Visual Communication" and referenced in "A Primer on Portraits of the Mahasiddhas.
In the Hemis Monastery (ཧེ་མི་དགོན་; also translated as "Hemis Monastery" or "Hemis Gompa"), a set of reconstructed murals from the early 17th century is preserved.
Several considerations guided my choice of this set of paintings. For one thing, the works are closely connected to the religious beliefs of Dakpo Tashi Namgyal (སྟག་ཚང་རས་པ་ངག་དབང་རྒྱ་མཚོ་; 1574-1651), who supervised Hemis Monastery's reconstruction and placed emphasis on the Kagyu lineage's traditions and Lotus Sutra worship. For another, they are still found in the monastery's original setting. Additionally, their style is largely a local one, showing a mixture of Western Tibetan and Central Tibetan influences.
Tagtsang Repa prophesied that he would establish a special relationship with a ruler whose name contained "Sengge" (སེང་གེ་, lion), an allusion to King Sengge Namgyal (སེང་གེ་རྣམ་རྒྱལ་, 1570–1642) of Ladak, who in 1604 became his disciple. [Note: The donor figures in this illustration are believed by many scholars to represent the Ladakhi royal family of Western Tibet.] This illustration was the work of the Orientalist scholar Thomas Edward Gordon (1832–1914).
The 1752 monastery chronicle and regulations (bca‘ yig) for Hemis Monastery, composed by Kathok Rigdzin Tsewang Norbu (ཀཿ་ཐོག་རིག་འཛིན་ཚེ་དབང་ནོར་བུ་, 1698–1755), mentions this particular set of Mahāsiddha paintings, describing them as "executed under the direct supervision of Tagtsang Repa himself, who even participated in their painting" and highlighting their "unconventional color schemes." Meanwhile, the biographical literature of the Drukpa Kagyu poetically refers to the relationship as "a yogi riding a lion" (རྣལ་འབྱོར་སེང་གེའི་མཇིང་པར་ཞོན་པ་), wherein "Repa" (རས་པ་) denotes the cotton-clad attire of Himalayan ascetics. Likewise, the former royal tutor and Drukpa Kagyu master Ngawang Gyeltsen (འཇམ་མགོན་ངག་དབང་རྒྱལ་མཚན་, 1647–1732) referred to these paintings in his correspondence with Bhutan.
In this series of works, the artists sustained the vigorous yet minimalist style typical of Western Tibet. Ngawang Gyeltsen lauded the pieces as "elegant and restrained—the handiwork of celestial painters." Meanwhile, he saw them as "the natural emanated forms of the Mahāsiddhas" (རང་བཞིན་གྱིས་གཟུགས་བྲིས་པ་, rang zhin gyi drukpa), remarking that they "employed precious pigments yet deliberately avoided emphasizing outlines.
The article, translated from SuolangWangqing's blog, examines murals whose bold color and compositional experimentation stem from Tagtsang Repa's role in bringing the Old and New Menri traditions and early Karma Gadri styles to Ladakh. Rob Linrothe once referred to the painters as "the Matisses [Henri Matisse] no one has ever heard of." These works were actively studied and copied by the celebrated Western Tibetan artist Rizong Sazhu (རི་རྫོང་སྲས་སྤྲུལ་, 1864–1927), who observed: " The chromatic mastery (of these murals) is nearly impossible to replicate ." It also features a series of Mahasiddhas: Medhini (མེ་དྷི་ནཱི་), a farmer-turned-enlightened master; the cobbler Dzamari Pa (ཙཱ་མཱ་རི་པ་), a leatherworker-turned-Mahasiddha; the weaver Tantipa (ཏནྟི་པ་), a textile master turned enlightened yogi; the glutton Sarvabhaksha (སརྦ་བྷཀྵ་), from voracious eater to enlightened master; the fisherman Minapa (མཱི་ན་པ་), from net-caster to nirvana; the royal Dombipa (ཌོམྦི་པ་), from palace to liberation; the artist Bandhepa (བྷནྡེ་པ་), from brushstrokes to enlightenment; and the widower Kankari Pa (ཀངྐཱ་རི་པ་), from grief to liberation.