New Delhi – The traditional Tibetan art of painting thangkas combines the sacred and the sublime to provide the viewer with an unmatched aesthetic experience.
The mountains have inspired artists and philosophers the world over. And from the mountains have come many religious artistic movements.
One such representative form is the traditional Tibetan art of painting thangkas that combines the sacred and the sublime to provide the viewer with an unmatched aesthetic experience.
The art of thangka painting is one of several Tibetan traditions that is struggling to stay alive.
Threatened by dislocation and political turmoil, the Tibetan community in exile has looked to impart its artistic and cultural heritage to the younger generation through a formalised education system, and several institutions run professional courses designed to promote art-forms such as this one.
Thangkas, or scroll paintings, are “a form of Tibetan religious art, used as an aid for meditation,” according to Tenzin Ngodup, a 32-year old artist and teacher from the Institute of Tibet and Thangka Art (ITTA) in Dharamsala.
Usually depicting stories from the life of Buddha, the Boddhisattvas, and saints and great masters, thangkas may be painted on canvas; printed with wooden blocks; woven; or even embroidered.
For the lay observer, thangkas, with their intricate detail and fine colours, perhaps serve only an aesthetic purpose. But for a Buddhist, thangkas, with their profound religious and sacred references, represent both religion and art, simultaneously. “For a Tibetan, for a Buddhist, this is art and religion, both,” says Ngodup.
Representing this artistic-religious combine is the arresting figure of Vajrapani, a Buddhist deity of the Tantric tradition; his angry, expressive face surrounded by skulls, and his body, by flaming rings of fire.
The icon’s wrathful appearance is symbolic of his dedication to the protection of the ‘dharma’, and belies his true compassionate nature. Compassion, peacefulness, purity are all motifs commonly represented in traditional Buddhist art.
“The process of making a thangka [too] is many-layered,” says Ngodup. He describes the steps involved in a painted thangka thus: first, the material (hand-woven linen, cotton or, for important subjects, silk) is stretched on a wooden frame, and is treated with a paste of powder and glue in preparation for painting. Then the central figure and the surrounding details are then drawn with charcoal, after which the painting begins.
“We use only natural colours, processed from minerals and plants and trees. These are then applied on to the canvas with a medium of animal glue and water. The painting remains an unfinished product until it is mounted on a brocaded silk cloth, called ‘khochen’,” says Ngodup. The material, available in many vibrant colours, is specially chosen for each painting.
Making thangkas is no longer just part of the family tradition it used to be some decades ago. “I do not belong to a traditional family of thangka painters. I chose to take this up as a profession, and started learning the art when I was 13 years old, ” says 37- year old Migmar Tsering, another artist from the ITTA, who has held solo exhibitions in many parts of the world.
Ngodup and Tsering were here recently for an exhibition of contemporary thangka paintings. They are both students of the Venerable Sangye Yeshi, Master thangka painter from Dharamsala. They belong to the Mendri school of painting, that has its roots in Tsang, in southwestern Tibet.
The style came to the fore in the 17th century, when it was patronised by the first Panchen Lama and his disciple, the fifth Dalai Lama, gradually becoming popular all through central Asia.
Painting thangkas is a very formalised and stylised skill, requires immense concentration and patience, and of course, demands years of training and practice. The apprenticeship-period to become a professional thangka painter, which both artists have undergone, is usually seven to ten years.
The apprenticeship lays down certain fundamentals: rules of iconography, for instance, are to be followed very precisely, for “in Buddhism, it is a sin to draw disproportionate figures,” according to Ngodup. So, a young student begins by drawing figures using geometric references: three triangles are transformed into a face, a circle into a palm, and so on.
“The lines and circles are meant to aid perfect drawing.
This is a practise followed for years before one is able to draw free hand. Even the most perfect of artists measures a drawing’s proportions before transferring the colours onto the canvas,” the artist adds.
But before being taught iconographic intricacies,” a student is first taught how to draw Buddha’s head. Then, his body, and then … He is draped with clothes. Only after perfecting this, the student may progress to other Buddhist deities,” say the artists.
After many years of training, a student may perhaps be able to draw with perfection the thousand-armed Avalokiteswara, the Tibetan god of compassion, with an eye in each palm: the omniscient, one, who hears all our requests.
Tibetan Buddhist iconography is a complex subject. Even a subtle colour change alters the meaning.
So goddess Tara in white, personifies long life, peacefulness and compassion, but in green, indicates success and helpfulness.
A Thangka as a meditative aid is most striking, perhaps, when portraying a mandala, which represents the universe with the deity residing at its centre. A meditation expert can actually visualise moving through the maze that is the universe, to reach the central palace of the deity, ” says Ngodup.
This is an experience that is reserved for the initiated, but oOrdinary people can look at a thangka and capture something of the magic and mystery of Tibet.
