type of tree which cannot be identified with any particular genus.
Though mountains, water, and trees are the main elements of landscape painting, this does not mean that the artist restricted himself to these. Rocks also played an important role, and some of the early Ch'ing painters, such as Shih-t'ao, were famous for their wonderful rendering of picturesque stones. Besides these, many different kinds of grass, moss, bushes, and flowers are represented, and romantic waterfalls and gorges were much admired, emphasizing as they do the grandeur and wildness of nature. In the midst of these natural phenomena, the artist, especially in the Sung and Ming periods, placed a tiny hut and a sage or two lost in rapt admiration of the vastness and beauty of the landscape. The onlooker, in turn, was supposed to identify himself with the tiny figure, letting his spirit dwell in the imaginary scene so that he too might find peace in the contemplation of nature.
The mentality of the gentleman-scholar who devoted himself to landscape painting is perhaps best expressed in Kuo Hsi's famous "Essay on Landscape Painting," which, although written in the eleventh century, served as a model and source of inspiration for all subsequent Chinese landscape painters. In it the author, himself a famous painter, says:
Why does a virtuous man take delight in landscape? It is for these reasons: that in a rustic retreat he may nourish nature; that amid the carefree play of streams and rocks, he may take delight; that he may constantly meet in the country fishermen, woodcutters, and hermits, and see the soaring cranes, and hear the crying of the monkeys. The din of the dusty world and the locked-in-ness of human habitations are what human nature habitually abhors; while, on the contrary, haze, mist, and the haunting spirits of the mountains are what human nature seeks, and yet can rarely find. When, however, in the heyday of great peace and prosperity, the minds, both of man's sovereign and of his parents, are full of high expectations of his services, should he still stand aloof, neglecting the responsibilities of honor and righteousness? In face of such duties the benevolent man cannot seclude himself and shun the world. He cannot hope to equal in spirit virtuous hermits such as Chi Tzu and Yin Hsü-yu or share the name of Hsia Huang-kung and Ch'i Li-chi.8
Since in doing his duty to society the lover of landscapes is cut off from the joys of nature, it is to the painting of landscapes that he must turn in order to participate, in spirit at least, in these delights, and Kuo Hsi goes on to say:
Having no access to the landscape, the lover of forest and stream, the friend of mist and haze, enjoys them only in his dreams. How delightful then to have a landscape painted by a skilled hand! Without leaving the room, at once, he finds himself among the streams and ravines; the cries of the birds and monkeys are faintly audible to his senses; light on the hills and reflections on the water, glittering, dazzle his eyes. Does not such a scene satisfy his mind and captivate his heart? That is why the world values the true significance of the painting of mountains. If this is not recognized, and the landscapes are roughly and carelessly approached, then is it not like spoiling a magnificent view and polluting the pure wind?9
Thus the onlooker, reverently unrolling a painting, was invited to identify himself with the tiny figures wandering about the valleys, standing at the water's edge, or contemplating the scenery. Kuo Hsi, discussing the different types of landscape, talks of those in which one can travel, those which can be gazed upon, those in which one can ramble, and finally, those in which one can dwell, stressing that it is the last two which are most praiseworthy. Few, he says, will ever achieve this effect, but these beautiful works arouse in the superior man the yearning for forest and stream. This emphasis on the landscape itself is peculiar to Chinese painting: in most Western art, the landscape is merely a backdrop for human activity, while here the reverse is the case, and man is subordinate to the immensity of nature.
In selecting a particular motif, the artist often drew upon traditional subjects, especially scenes which had been celebrated by the poets of the past, such as Li Po or Tu Fu. There is a Chinese saying that poetry is a picture without form and painting a poem with form, and a few lines from a lyric often served both as inspiration and subject matter. Kuo Hsi, discussing poetry, wrote: "The beautiful lines give full expression to the inmost thoughts of men's souls, and describe vividly the scenery before men's eyes."10 One of the most popular subjects was the group of eight views of the Hsiao and Hsiang Rivers, each of which represents a scene from the shores of Lake Tung-t'ing that Li Po had celebrated in the following famous poem:
On the Tung-t'ing Lake
Westward from Tung-t'ing the Chu River branches out,
While the lake fades into the cloudless sky of the south.
The sun gone down, the autumn twilight steals far over Chang-sha;
I wonder where sleep the lost queens of Hsiang of old.11
The very titles of these views are deeply suggestive of the spirit of this kind of landscape painting: The Evening Bell from a Distant Temple, Sunset Glow over a Fishing Village, Fine Weather after Storm at a Lonely Mountain Town, Homeward-Bound Boats off a Distant Coast, The Autumn Moon over Lake Tung-t'ing, Wild Geese Alighting on a Sandy Plain, Night Rain on the Rivers Hsiao and Hsiang, and Evening Snow on the Hills.
Other paintings show the valley of the Yellow River, a fisherman in a boat, a hermit in the mountains, a sage gazing at the moon or visiting a friend in his retreat, mist over the mountain tops, and many similar scenes. The overwhelming aspect of nature, especially of mountains, and the minuteness of man contemplating this majesty are the ever-recurring subjects of Chinese painting. In depicting such scenes, the artist was taught that he must first of all identify himself with the landscape and become one with the Tao which pervades all of nature, for only then could he begin to do justice to his theme. He was not concerned with that outward appearance of nature which absorbed the French Impressionists, but rather with its innermost spirit. Thus, he concentrated on the essentials, for only in so doing would he be able to present the soul of the cosmos. We are told over and over again how the great painters of China would spend months and even years wandering through mountain landscapes, immersing themselves in the forms of nature until they had discovered their true being; and then, and only then, would they take up their brushes and record their impressions. Preparatory sketches of the type common in our civilization are almost unknown in Chinese art, and painting directly from the scene itself was very rare, for the artist, after having achieved a mystical identification with the spirit of nature, recreated the vision from within himself.
Although the landscapes are often identified by name, and certain famous motifs are done again and again, this does not mean that these paintings are to be thought of as realistic versions of particular scenes, painted the way a Courbet might have painted an actual place, but rather that these traditionally admired sights were considered ideal landscapes. These scrolls were the expression of a cultural ideal which during the Sung period and after dominated the artistic output of the Chinese painter-scholars. During later periods, such as the Ming and Ch'ing dynasties, artists often derived their inspiration not from an actual scene but from a celebrated scroll by some painter whom they particularly admired, usually one of the great masters of the T'ang, Sung, or Yuan periods. This is not to say that these works were outright copies but rather that they were painted in the spirit of the artist who had inspired the work, so that the earlier painter became a kind of godfather to the later one. This, in a way, assured the continuity of the great artistic tradition of China, but at the same time it often had a stultifying effect upon the output of later periods, when a dead academicism replaced the vital artistic spirit which had prevailed in earlier times. This attitude also creates particular problems for the historian and the connoisseur of Chinese painting, since it becomes next to impossible to determine with certainty which scrolls are by the artists to whom they are ascribed and which are no more than copies of originals or works inspired by some famous masterpiece of one of the great painters of the past.
The landscapes represented were shown in a variety of moods depending upon the time of day, the weather, and the season
