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In the summer of 2009， I trekked all the way to Tongren County in Huangnan Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture of northwestern China’s Qinghai Province for the fieldwork for my Ph.D. thesis. The area is known as Regong in Tibetan， and has been a hotbed for Buddhist thangka painting for generations.
Regong’s arts encompass several Tibetan ethnic arts such as thangka， mural， duixiu （barbola）， and sculpture. Due to their unique aesthetics， raw materials， and inheritance customs， Regong arts have significant historical and artistic value in realms of Tibetan Buddhism， folk art， and architecture. In 2009， Regong arts were inscribed on the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
After staying in the home of a young thangka painter， I bonded with local thangka artists over the following three years. Thangka artists often travel away from home to paint for Buddhist temples and followers. After they finish farming the barley fields， they set off to work on thangkas elsewhere. Although the majority of their time is devoted to depicting Buddha， they must also negotiate with buyers from the Han ethnic group in Mandarin. Every morning， they devoutly light incense and change the water in front of a Buddha statue， but for the most part， they enjoy modern lifestyles.
Lama Painter
Tsering， in his early 30s， has already become a veteran painter. Like many other lama painters， he joined a monastery and began learning Buddhist sutras and painting after graduating from primary school. He is the youngest and last student of Shawo Tsering， a late National Craftsman and Artist. At 19， Tsering participated in the creation of the massive scroll painting Colored Painting of China’s Tibetan Culture and Arts， which Guinness World Records cited as “the world’s longest Tibetan painting” in 1999. Despite his relatively young age， Tsering’s years of painstaking training have left him with a masterful command of thangka painting skills. He even instructs older students while working on various projects.
“Many don’t know how to appreciate thangka，” laments Tsering. “As soon as they see a thangka painting， they just fixate on the details. Thangka artists don’t pay attention to details early on， but rather examine whether the portrait of the Buddha is well-proportioned， whether his sitting position is stable and whether his posture is correct. When looking at a thangka painting， lay people get distracted by a lifelike bee or flower in the background and fail to notice whether the primary subject – the Buddha – appears messy. We examine how the Buddha’s eyes are depicted and whether they embody Buddhahood. Just like meeting someone in daily life， if he or she has beautiful eyes， we consider the person appealing. Tiny details are the last things to notice.” Some buyers and collectors will pay high prices for gilded thangkas. “Actually， we have strict rules about the use of gilding techniques，” Tsering remarks. “Those who don’t know how to appraise thangkas only create a market for sub-par work.”
In the past， Tsering drifted about with his teacher to learn and practice thangka. He met many patrons and collectors. “In the past， thangka paintings were mainly used as Buddhist teaching tools or mediums through which one can offer prayers or make requests，” Tsering explains. “But now many collect them and seek profits through reselling and distribution. Some businesspeople even purchase thangkas in bulk to give as luxury gifts.”
In the eyes of Tsering， the value of a thangka cannot be measured monetarily. When he began to learn thangka， artists would devote their heart and soul to the work regardless of how much they were getting paid. It was common for an artist to spend an entire year on a single thangka. Nowadays， many artists produce up to 100 annually. “How can they guarantee the quality with this volume of work？” Tsering asks. “If a young artist focuses on getting paid by churning out thangkas rather than improving his skill through painstaking practice， he is actually ruining his future. I like money as much as anyone else， but I believe I will be naturally rewarded through recognition of my skill.”
Chodri’s Inheritance
Thangka has long been passed on from generation to generation within family-like workshops. Apprentices sleep under the same roof as their mentors. In their spare time， students help teachers with farming and household labor. Like parents， mentors also teach protégés life philosophy and exemplify their values.
A co-founder of Longshu Painting Academy in Regong， Chodri believes such a model for inheritance has drawbacks because most teachers concentrate on the skills， but neglect cultural education. Local children begin to learn thangka after they graduate from primary or middle schools. A lack of cultural education in both Tibetan and Han culture has become the biggest obstacle for thangka inheritance. “I helped make murals and thangkas at temples on Wutai Mountain for nine years，” Chodri sighs. “I like to stay home alone because I like the silence， but more importantly， I don’t speak Mandarin well， so I seem like a mute when I need to communicate with strangers elsewhere. Thangka paintings abound in Buddhist stories. Although I have deep insights related to the stories of Sakyamuni， I cannot explain them in Mandarin. This is a major regret.” The primary reason Chodri and his partners founded Longshu Painting Academy was to teach Tibetan and Han languages and eliminate illiteracy. “When the construction of the painting academy is completed， I’ll hire some teachers who can speak both Tibetan and Mandarin to teach language and cultural knowledge， so that I can concentrate on teaching thangka，”Chodri explains. “The institute will provide opportunities to educate more local children.”
“Thangka is meant to teach Buddhist stories and doctrine，” Chodri adds. “A good thangka can depict an entire volume of Buddhist sutra. Any inaccuracy will be misleading. Of over 800 thangka painters in my village， only 50 have the ability to produce soul-stirring work. Building the academy is not seeking rewards from patrons， but due to my consciousness as a thangka artist.”
Penpa’s Innovation
At 18， Penpa began to learn thangka from Kunsang Langyel， a renowned Tibetan master. He joined his mentor in restoring thangkas and murals in the Potala Palace and monasteries of Jokhang， Tashihunpo， and Samye. Of more than 200 thangka pieces in The Complete Collection of Tibetan Thangka （2005）， 72 are from Penpa.
For many who reside outside Tibetaninhabited areas， thangka seems mysterious and exotic. From this perspective， its religious background hinders the art from deeper communication with the outside world. How to deal with this obstacle？ Penpa drew inspiration from some foreigners who bought thangkas from him. “When seeing the Green Tara， the Vajrabhairava， and the Thousand-Eyed and Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara in thangkas， foreigners consider the subjects amazing and extremely abstract，” declares Penpa. “After I explained the reason Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara has 1，000 hands and 1，000 eyes， they were deeply touched and referred to thangka as contemporary art. I hope religious beliefs and art can be independent to some extent. For Buddhists， thangkas have religious connotations； for non-believers， they are just art.”
After pondering this predicament， Penpa began to explore the reflection of“ego” on the canvas. Visits to the 798 Art Zone and Songzhuang， both famous art districts in Beijing， inspired him to attempt a fusion of thangka and contemporary art. In one of his early creations， he drew Adolf Hitler wearing a skull with thangka techniques to convey his thoughts about war and the Nazis. Another of his thangkas depicts Red Guards， expressing his sorrow about their culturally-destructive behavior and the rare sutras and ancient thangka paintings that were lost during the “cultural revolution” period. Penpa’s innovation received rave reviews from art circles. In recent years， his contemporary thangka work has received wide acclaim after exhibitions in Hangzhou， Guangzhou， and Beijing. One of his paintings depicts a young Tibetan man wearing an earring in one ear， urban chains around his neck， a tie， and a sideways cap.“Many Tibetan youths now long for the pop culture of the Han， Japan， South Korea， and even the United States，” Penpa sighs.“They know very little about the alien cultures as they discard the roots of their own culture. They cannot speak English， yet don’t understand traditional Tibetan customs either. Although traditional culture does have its shortcomings， we need to view it from a dialectic perspective. Today， young people don’t ponder the essence of Tibetan culture. This painting was a warning sign.”
Penpa’s innovation also mirrors the cultural collision of Tibetan people’s increased contact with the outside world， which has forced Tibetans to rethink their identity and the roots of their culture， so as to paint a path to the future.
Regong’s arts encompass several Tibetan ethnic arts such as thangka， mural， duixiu （barbola）， and sculpture. Due to their unique aesthetics， raw materials， and inheritance customs， Regong arts have significant historical and artistic value in realms of Tibetan Buddhism， folk art， and architecture. In 2009， Regong arts were inscribed on the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
After staying in the home of a young thangka painter， I bonded with local thangka artists over the following three years. Thangka artists often travel away from home to paint for Buddhist temples and followers. After they finish farming the barley fields， they set off to work on thangkas elsewhere. Although the majority of their time is devoted to depicting Buddha， they must also negotiate with buyers from the Han ethnic group in Mandarin. Every morning， they devoutly light incense and change the water in front of a Buddha statue， but for the most part， they enjoy modern lifestyles.
Lama Painter
Tsering， in his early 30s， has already become a veteran painter. Like many other lama painters， he joined a monastery and began learning Buddhist sutras and painting after graduating from primary school. He is the youngest and last student of Shawo Tsering， a late National Craftsman and Artist. At 19， Tsering participated in the creation of the massive scroll painting Colored Painting of China’s Tibetan Culture and Arts， which Guinness World Records cited as “the world’s longest Tibetan painting” in 1999. Despite his relatively young age， Tsering’s years of painstaking training have left him with a masterful command of thangka painting skills. He even instructs older students while working on various projects.
“Many don’t know how to appreciate thangka，” laments Tsering. “As soon as they see a thangka painting， they just fixate on the details. Thangka artists don’t pay attention to details early on， but rather examine whether the portrait of the Buddha is well-proportioned， whether his sitting position is stable and whether his posture is correct. When looking at a thangka painting， lay people get distracted by a lifelike bee or flower in the background and fail to notice whether the primary subject – the Buddha – appears messy. We examine how the Buddha’s eyes are depicted and whether they embody Buddhahood. Just like meeting someone in daily life， if he or she has beautiful eyes， we consider the person appealing. Tiny details are the last things to notice.” Some buyers and collectors will pay high prices for gilded thangkas. “Actually， we have strict rules about the use of gilding techniques，” Tsering remarks. “Those who don’t know how to appraise thangkas only create a market for sub-par work.”
In the past， Tsering drifted about with his teacher to learn and practice thangka. He met many patrons and collectors. “In the past， thangka paintings were mainly used as Buddhist teaching tools or mediums through which one can offer prayers or make requests，” Tsering explains. “But now many collect them and seek profits through reselling and distribution. Some businesspeople even purchase thangkas in bulk to give as luxury gifts.”
In the eyes of Tsering， the value of a thangka cannot be measured monetarily. When he began to learn thangka， artists would devote their heart and soul to the work regardless of how much they were getting paid. It was common for an artist to spend an entire year on a single thangka. Nowadays， many artists produce up to 100 annually. “How can they guarantee the quality with this volume of work？” Tsering asks. “If a young artist focuses on getting paid by churning out thangkas rather than improving his skill through painstaking practice， he is actually ruining his future. I like money as much as anyone else， but I believe I will be naturally rewarded through recognition of my skill.”
Chodri’s Inheritance
Thangka has long been passed on from generation to generation within family-like workshops. Apprentices sleep under the same roof as their mentors. In their spare time， students help teachers with farming and household labor. Like parents， mentors also teach protégés life philosophy and exemplify their values.
A co-founder of Longshu Painting Academy in Regong， Chodri believes such a model for inheritance has drawbacks because most teachers concentrate on the skills， but neglect cultural education. Local children begin to learn thangka after they graduate from primary or middle schools. A lack of cultural education in both Tibetan and Han culture has become the biggest obstacle for thangka inheritance. “I helped make murals and thangkas at temples on Wutai Mountain for nine years，” Chodri sighs. “I like to stay home alone because I like the silence， but more importantly， I don’t speak Mandarin well， so I seem like a mute when I need to communicate with strangers elsewhere. Thangka paintings abound in Buddhist stories. Although I have deep insights related to the stories of Sakyamuni， I cannot explain them in Mandarin. This is a major regret.” The primary reason Chodri and his partners founded Longshu Painting Academy was to teach Tibetan and Han languages and eliminate illiteracy. “When the construction of the painting academy is completed， I’ll hire some teachers who can speak both Tibetan and Mandarin to teach language and cultural knowledge， so that I can concentrate on teaching thangka，”Chodri explains. “The institute will provide opportunities to educate more local children.”
“Thangka is meant to teach Buddhist stories and doctrine，” Chodri adds. “A good thangka can depict an entire volume of Buddhist sutra. Any inaccuracy will be misleading. Of over 800 thangka painters in my village， only 50 have the ability to produce soul-stirring work. Building the academy is not seeking rewards from patrons， but due to my consciousness as a thangka artist.”
Penpa’s Innovation
At 18， Penpa began to learn thangka from Kunsang Langyel， a renowned Tibetan master. He joined his mentor in restoring thangkas and murals in the Potala Palace and monasteries of Jokhang， Tashihunpo， and Samye. Of more than 200 thangka pieces in The Complete Collection of Tibetan Thangka （2005）， 72 are from Penpa.
For many who reside outside Tibetaninhabited areas， thangka seems mysterious and exotic. From this perspective， its religious background hinders the art from deeper communication with the outside world. How to deal with this obstacle？ Penpa drew inspiration from some foreigners who bought thangkas from him. “When seeing the Green Tara， the Vajrabhairava， and the Thousand-Eyed and Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara in thangkas， foreigners consider the subjects amazing and extremely abstract，” declares Penpa. “After I explained the reason Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara has 1，000 hands and 1，000 eyes， they were deeply touched and referred to thangka as contemporary art. I hope religious beliefs and art can be independent to some extent. For Buddhists， thangkas have religious connotations； for non-believers， they are just art.”
After pondering this predicament， Penpa began to explore the reflection of“ego” on the canvas. Visits to the 798 Art Zone and Songzhuang， both famous art districts in Beijing， inspired him to attempt a fusion of thangka and contemporary art. In one of his early creations， he drew Adolf Hitler wearing a skull with thangka techniques to convey his thoughts about war and the Nazis. Another of his thangkas depicts Red Guards， expressing his sorrow about their culturally-destructive behavior and the rare sutras and ancient thangka paintings that were lost during the “cultural revolution” period. Penpa’s innovation received rave reviews from art circles. In recent years， his contemporary thangka work has received wide acclaim after exhibitions in Hangzhou， Guangzhou， and Beijing. One of his paintings depicts a young Tibetan man wearing an earring in one ear， urban chains around his neck， a tie， and a sideways cap.“Many Tibetan youths now long for the pop culture of the Han， Japan， South Korea， and even the United States，” Penpa sighs.“They know very little about the alien cultures as they discard the roots of their own culture. They cannot speak English， yet don’t understand traditional Tibetan customs either. Although traditional culture does have its shortcomings， we need to view it from a dialectic perspective. Today， young people don’t ponder the essence of Tibetan culture. This painting was a warning sign.”
Penpa’s innovation also mirrors the cultural collision of Tibetan people’s increased contact with the outside world， which has forced Tibetans to rethink their identity and the roots of their culture， so as to paint a path to the future.