For the Chinese, death was not the end. Buddhist traditions about the infinite cycle of incarnation and reincarnation (samsara) mixed with millennia-old local traditions regarding the spiritual embodiment of human...
For the Chinese, death was not the end. Buddhist traditions about the infinite cycle of incarnation and reincarnation (samsara) mixed with millennia-old local traditions regarding the spiritual embodiment of human beings after death, to create a unique funerary culture which spanned the vast gulf of time between the arrival of Buddhism during the Han Dynasty, around the time of Christ, to the end of the unitary imperial Chinese State in AD 1912, and even into the Modern Era. This burial tradition centred on two spiritual incarnations which appeared after death: the hun (‘cloud soul’), which left the body after death and ascended into Heaven (tian), and the po (‘white soul’), which remained trapped in the realm of the tomb. If not adequately provided for, the po could break out of the tomb, wandering as a revenant. Even if your own po was taken care of and content to remain in the burial chamber, one’s eternal rest could always be broken by the wandering of another’s ghost. Even worse, the burial chamber was vulnerable to wandering demons, taken from the Buddhist tradition. Known as ‘hungry ghosts’ (e gui, or preta in Sanskrit), fearful beings which were punished for a life of greed by becoming gluttonous creatures with enormous stomachs, but tiny pin-prick throats, through which food may never pass. Always hungering for more, these figures could be highly destructive. And finally, the po had to contend with various demons of Chinese mythology, which might disturb the rest of the deceased. A solution was required, and for most of Chinese history, this solution was found in Guardian Figures.
The first evidence for Guardian Figures predates even Buddhism, originating in the Warring States Period (475 BC – 221 BC). These simple totems tended to take the form of deer antlers on a columnar base, which were then all coated in thick red lacquer. The exact origin and purpose of these figures is lost to time, but it is clear that by the succeeding Han Dynasty (202 BC – AD 220), they had become more figural and less abstract. Gradually, these figures became a special sub-category of ‘door guardians’ (dvarapala), Buddhist figures which guard the entrances to sacred spaces. Dvarapala became assimilated to the more famous lokapala, the guardians of the four cardinal directions. Known in Chinese as the ‘Four Heavenly Kings’ (sitianwang), their primary role was to inspect and evaluate the state of morality of humankind. Like other guardian figures, they also served the function of guarding each cardinal direction from the ongoing onslaught of asuras, demons, which, in the Buddhist canon, also included the ghosts who lived on the plane between life and death (bardo or antarābhava). But while this figure bears many comparisons with lokapala, and examples of the type are often mis-attributed to them, they are in fact an entirely separate category of guardian.
This remarkable figure, a beautiful example of a tomb guardian, can be identified by the phoenix rising from his headdress as the ‘Guardian of the Burial Chamber’ (tang-k’uang), one of the pair of guardians which usually secure the door of Tang Dynasty tombs. He is depicted as stocky, muscular man, wearing the plate armour introduced to the Chinese during the highly turbulent times of the Northern and Southern Dynasties (AD 420 – AD 589), when China had no robust central government, and rival dynasts capitalised on the collapse of the Jin Dynasty. Plate armour – which offered the advantage of imperviousness to arrows and spears, compared to the scale armour of previous times – was the ultimate luxury for Chinese warriors. It was only fitting that the ‘Guardian of the Burial Chamber’ should be kitted out as the ultimate soldier, both in order to protect him from his foes, and to intimidate them, by accentuating his bulk and height. The highly stylised armour contains exquisitely realised details, like the dragon’s heads on the shoulders, from whose mouths issue the arms, as well as the exaggerated pectorals, designed to give the impression of musculature. The figure’s fearsome facial expression, with furrowed eyebrows, flared nostrils, and snarling mouth, is supported by his powerful pose. He stands, one foot raised, on a demon, one of the imagined creatures which may have entered the burial chamber unbidden. His grotesque face, and two-toed feet, are designed both to imagine a horrible being, but also to denigrate it comically. He bites hard on the foot of the Guardian of the Burial Chamber, but his diminutive size means he is unlikely to succeed in overpowering him. The empty raised hand of the Guardian would once have held a genuine bronze-tipped weapon, some kind of spear or lance, whose point would have rested upon the demon, in an eternal pose of near-victory.
The head of the Guardian of the Burial Chamber is crowned with a phoenix, whose white feathers and sinuous neck also assimilate it to a swan. The swan imagery was much akin to the European conception: they stood for grace, purity, beauty, and enduring love, all features associated with a pure Buddhist heart. The phoenix (feng huang) has a more complex symbology. Associated with fire, it was the symbol of summer and the south, and therefore the droughts brought by hot weather. The phoenix was also a feminine symbol, and a negative symbol of yin as opposed to the masculine and pure yang. By demonstrating mastery over this beast, and perhaps by bringing out its swan-like qualities in the process, the Guardian of the Burial Chamber is further assimilated to the ‘heavenly kings’ (tianwang), one of whose titles is ‘good, rainy weather, for growing crops’ (fēng tiáo yǔ shùn, which, given Chinese didactic playfulness, begins with the same syllable as the opposite state brought about by the phoenix).
This figure is a masterful example of the kind of terracotta sculptures produced for tombs during the Tang Dynasty (AD 618 – AD 907). The Tang were master potters, whose wares were exported as far as the Islamic World and Europe. These tomb figures were perhaps the most numerous of Tang products which survive to us, but also demonstrate the most innovation, both in terms of style and medium. It is among the tomb figures which we first see the sancai (‘three colour’) glaze, which is so expertly applied to this piece. Appearing around AD 700, the sancai glaze was a versatile decorative style, which was especially used to mimic the textures of the natural world – the fur of a horse or camel, or the scales of a reptile used on dragons – through the layering of different shades, usually of amber, green and off-white. The traditional triumvirate of glazes was used in this figure, to create a mottled effect both on the armour and on the body of the demon being trampled. The use of Green to highlight the armour may mimic the colour of tarnished bronze, while the amber and off-white represent both the gilded accoutrements, the colour of his tunic, and the unusual skin of the demon. The demon’s face is unglazed, left in the slightly off-white colour of the clay. This is a marker of elite status: pale skin was associated in Ancient China with the ability to delegate one’s outside work to subordinates, and therefore never to have one’s skin kissed by the sun.
Tang tomb figures are the product of China at one of its material heights. During this period, trade with the outside world brought never-before-seen wealth and prosperity, and the strength of the centralised imperial government resulted in a period of unity and relative harmony, albeit bookended by the uncertain periods of the Northern and Southern Dynasties before, and the around sixty years of war which came after. Later periods looked back on the Tang, alongside the Han, as one of the great imperial dynasties, and as a period in which China came closest to the Confucian ideal of a scholar-kingdom. This ideal is reflected in the abundant and extraordinary artistic output of the period.
References: a similar figure can be found in London (Victoria and Albert Museum C.48-1955), though this example stands atop an ox rather than tramples a demon; another demon-trampling example can be found in San Francisco, California (Asian Art Museum B60S154+).