is in the Freer Gallery of Art in Washington. It comes from the Sung period, probably the twelfth century, and represents the tale of the nymph of the Lo River (Plate 1). A continuous scroll in which figures are seen in a landscape, the painting illustrates very clearly the primitive kind of landscape typical of the period. In the detail shown, the figures are too large in relation to the landscape which, as in the work of Italian Primitives like Giotto, is little more than a setting for human activity. The mountains in the left foreground are so stylized that at first glance one hardly recognizes them, and the trees, climbing up the slopes and standing in front, have no consistent relationship in size, either among themselves or to the mountains. One tree soars high above the tallest peak; another, a willow, is the same size as the mountains; and the rest are as small as a single branch of the largest tree. In the middle foreground the trees are much shorter than those standing above in back, and the ship at the right is too small in relation to the figures. Each part—the mountains, the figures, the ship—is almost a unit in itself, and neither in space nor in perspective has the painter succeeded in fusing the parts into a whole. The treatment of the landscape is still highly decorative and corresponds very closely to Chang Yen-yüan's description. It is clear that Ku K'ai-chih has attempted to show figures in a natural setting, relating them to the space and to the scenery, but it is equally clear that his ability to render the setting convincingly is still inadequate, and the result, though charming in an archaic sort of way, is not successful as a landscape.
A somewhat younger contemporary of Ku K'ai-chih who lived on into the fifth century was Tsung Ping (375—443), of whom unfortunately no paintings have been preserved. We are told, however, that he was famous for his landscape paintings and that he roamed about the mountain wilderness, playing his lute and enjoying the beauty and grandeur of nature. When he grew old he painted some of his favorite scenes on the walls of his house and lamented the fact that he could no longer wander in the mountains. He wrote a brief essay entitled Shan Shut Sü, or "Introduction to Landscape Painting," which shows a sentiment closely allied to that of the great landscape painters of later periods and is clearly Taoist in inspiration. In it he says:
Landscapes exist in material substance and soar into the realm of the spirit.... Taoists travelled among the mountains.... Such sojourning has often been called finding pleasure in mountains and water by the virtuous and wise. The virtuous man follows the Way (Tao) by spiritual insight, the wise man takes this same approach. But the lovers of landscapes are led into the Way by a sense of form. The virtuous man also takes pleasure in this. Then, are not the pleasures of the virtuous and wise similar to those of the lovers of landscape?20
No doubt landscape painting itself underwent considerable development during the fifth century, but unfortunately no authentic scrolls from this period have survived. The only original which may be traced back to the fifth century is a wall painting in cave Number 110 at the famous Buddhist site of Tun Huang at the westernmost frontier of China. Here, in a Jataka scene depicting a Buddhist legend, there is a mountain landscape which perhaps gives some idea of what the landscape painting of this period may have been like (Plate 2). However, it must be said that Tun Huang was far off in the provinces and that these works, although invaluable for us today, were only a crude reflection of the style current at the imperial court and in the other cultural centers. It must have taken a generation or more for the latest artistic developments to reach this outpost, and it may be assumed that the painters active here were provincial artisans who cannot be compared with such great masters as Ku K'ai-chih and Tsung Ping. However, even when this has been taken into account, one must conclude that little real progress had been made during the century. In the detail shown, the treatment of the landscape is far more decorative than that of the "Nymph of the Lo River" scroll. While Ku K'ai-chih varied the arrangement of his trees and mountains, showing them in groups or singly in silhouettes and placing some parallel to the bottom of the painting and others diagonally, the artist at Tun Huang made a pattern of the natural elements. The mountains, each with one slope straight and the other jagged, are set side by side in groups which are rhythmically repeated and so stylized that one cannot be sure they are mountains. In considering this work, however, it must be borne in mind that the landscape is only the setting for a Buddhist wall painting; although none have survived, there must have been landscape scrolls painted during the period which showed a more advanced style.
With the sixth century, developments reached a climax which led to the establishment of true landscape painting. Again we are greatly handicapped by the lack of authentic paintings, but other artistic monuments such as engraved stone slabs give a good idea of the style which prevailed during the century. The finest and most famous of these is the stone sarcophagus in the Nelson Gallery of Art in Kansas City, whose incised side panels represent stories of filial piety (Plate 3). Now, for the first time, the figures are rendered in proper proportion to the setting, and they move among the trees and rocks in a natural and convincing way. There is also a real feeling of space, with the eye of the observer being led into the distance. The free-flowing line is employed with both skill and elegance, pointing up the picturesque shapes of the trees and rock formations. However, even here the artist's main emphasis is upon the Confucian story, and the landscape is, in the last analysis, merely a setting for the figures shown. This is certainly typical of that age, though it may be assumed that some pure landscapes were painted at the time, even if Buddhist and Confucian scenes with landscape settings were the more popular subject.
The other work which reflects the style of the age convincingly is a sacrificial stone house in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston (Plate 4). It is dated 529 and is similar in style to the Kansas City sarcophagus. Again, the scenes depict episodes of filial piety, but the emphasis is more on the interior setting than the outdoor landscape. However, the manner of representation is very like that of the sarcophagus in the Nelson Gallery, with delicately incised lines suggesting the contours of the objects. In the immediate foreground, rocks, grasses, trees, and undulating earth are rendered with the greatest economy and with the inspired and dynamic use of line so typical of the period. Above, figures in the building are engaged in various activities, and in the background, a variety of trees loom over the tiled roofs. The slanting parallel lines in the right side of the building indicate the artist's attempt to give perspective, thus showing that the rendering of space in depth is a problem with which he is consciously struggling. The quality of the execution here, as well as in the sarcophagus, is very fine, and it may be assumed that these works reflect the most advanced artistic style. It would thus appear that the sixth century already knew landscape painting as a distinct genre, but that the nature of the landscape was still stylized and decorative.
3
The T'ang Period
NOT until the T'ang period (618—907) did landscape painting evolve into a separate and major genre of Chinese painting. This age, in fact, was looked upon by later critics as a golden age, during which some of the greatest artistic figures were active. How much of this estimate was based upon actual knowledge of their works and how much is the characteristically Chinese veneration of all that is ancient and traditional is hard to tell, but even the famous Sung scholar Su Tung-po complained in 1085 that only one or two original scrolls by Wu Tao-tzu could be found. Today the situation is even worse, and it is doubtful if there is more than one true T'ang landscape in existence. This state of affairs is very similar to that in Greek art, where we have numerous literary references to the famous sculptors of the Golden Age but few if any originals which can be attributed to them with certainty, since all the surviving works are either Roman copies or minor works by anonymous artists.
The first of the four great artistic figures who dominated this period was Li Ssu-hsün, known as General Li, who was probably born around 650 and died in 716. His fame was no doubt due just as much to his high social position and official rank as to his artistic accomplishments, for he was a descendant of the founder of the T'ang dynasty. Critics such as the celebrated Sung painter Mi Fei and the Ming scholar Tung Ch'i-ch'ang considered his work rather dry and poor, and his painting was no doubt somewhat academic, belonging to that tradition which emphasized meticulous detail and bright colors,
