Parsa explores the poetry of Michelangelo by analyzing the underlying messages expressed in his poems regarding faith, beauty, and love. Parsa engages in literary analysis, as well as an examination of the Neoplatonic philosophical underpinnings of Michelangelo’s poetry.

One (of many) perks of being a Brown student is the history at our footsteps, the treasure cove of artifacts that is the RISD Museum. On a recent trip, I was greeted by this artifact that prompted a deep dive into Buddhism, and its associated sculpture making. This artifact dates all the way back to the 400- 530 CE from the ancient Wei dynasty of China. It is a stela (upright stone or slab used as a monument or marker) made of gray limestone, and upon closer inspection, has faint traces of pigment. In this essay, by analyzing the elements of this specific stele, I will attempt to trace the Indian influences on Chinese Buddhist art, particularly during the Northern Wei period, while also highlighting the distinct styles that evolved in each region.
The Buddha evolved with specific iconography in its Indian depictions that prevailed impressively over time. These unique markers are apparent in early Chinese sculptures. For instance, in this particular stele one can observe a high bun, elongated earlobes, serene expression and a cross leg seated position, all of which trace back to the initial Indian sculptures. While one hand is chipped off and remains unclear, the second is making the Varada mudra which symbolizes fulfillment of wishes and charity, and is a gesture tracing back to the Indian Gupta period. When Buddhist art migrated from India to China, it retained these essential elements but were adapted to local artistic sensibilities, with more angular facial features. A significant observable difference in this stele, is the thick robe and more stylised depiction of the garment. In India, Buddhist teachings preached naturalism and emancipation from material desires, hence donning thin, almost sheer garments draped close to the visible body. One reason, amongst many, for thicker depicted garments in Chinese sculptures is that China does not have a temperate climate like India, and even a double-layered Sanghati didn’t provide sufficient warmth and protection from the elements. Thus, Chinese layered additional, Taoist-style robes and ‘kimonos’, as seen in this stele, proving there were some cultural adaptations made to artistic practice while still retaining essential elements.
What initially drew me to this particular sculpture was the flames and lions present. These are traditionally associated with fierceness, which, to me, contrasted the serenity the Buddha represented. Upon further research, I found that both Chinese and Indian art frequently employ this symbolism within varying contexts. Indian Buddhist sculptures often feature flames to indicate the enlightened being’s spiritual power. This is further emphasized in this stela by extending the painted flame motifs to encase the entire figure in a fiery mandorla (almond shaped back), signifying transformation and purification . The lions depicted at the base of the figure are also a shared symbol in Indian and Chinese Buddhist art. Lions were native to Southern Asia around the time of Buddhism’s birth so were often associated with the imperial court of India. The Buddha himself was formerly known as Shakyamuni, roughly translating to “lion of the Shakya tribe”. As a result, religious images often depict Shakyamuni sitting on top of a lion's throne, riding a lion, or having a lion pet sitting nearby, guarding the Buddha as he meditates. In fact, the Ashokan pillar now featured on Indian denominations, boasts four lions said to personify the Buddha, who preached his ‘Four Noble Truths’ at Sarnath. It is believed they face each cardinal direction to spread his sermons across the nation and beyond. Therefore, lions came to be closely associated with Buddhist practice in South Asia. Lions do not occur in primitive Chinese art but were introduced in connection with Buddhism, where they continued to carry this symbolic meaning but were stylized in a distinctly Chinese manner, as seen in this stele. They appear more abstracted and less naturalistic than in Indian examples. One theory for this stylisation is that Chinese artists had to rely upon the visual depictions and oral interpretations of the lions from previous generations due to dwindling asiatic lion populations. These interpretations, however, tended to overly romanticize the majestic qualities of the lions, more closely resembling phoenixes and dragons. Now, the conventional Chinese lion is called the “Foo Dog,” and is found at the threshold of Buddhist temples, serving as both spiritual and physical guardians of the sacred space. It was very interesting to see how the lions became ubiquitous in both cultures, symbolizing nearly identical values, but are adapted from different contexts and artistically portrayed differently.
What sets the Chinese stele apart from its Indian counterparts is the more rigid and formalized composition. In Indian Buddhist reliefs and steles, there is often a greater sense of fluidity and naturalism in the depiction of figures. Chinese artists, influenced by Confucian ideals of order and hierarchy, often arranged figures in a more symmetrical and balanced manner, as seen in this stele where the Bodhisattvas are perfectly mirrored on either side of the central figure. The production of steles during the Northern Wei dynasty saw a shift towards more symbolic and less narrative compositions because, presumably, they wished to portray the spiritual aura of the figures rather than focus on storytelling. The focus was on creating a central image of a Buddha flanked by attendants and surrounded by decorative elements as seen in this example. Unlike the comparatively narrative and descriptive Indian style, the seven bodhisattvas painted on the mandorla are equidistant and mostly uniform. Therefore, not much can be inferred about them or their relation to the Buddha.
Upon further research, however, I identified the flanking bodhisattvas as Guanyin and Dashizhi. Guanyin, in particular, was interesting because she was adapted from Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara (roughly translates to Lord who looks down with compassion) who is portrayed as male in India but female in China. One reason for this gender fluidity may be to emphasize the Bodhisattva’s ability to manifest on earth in many different forms. In traditional Chinese culture, feminine virtues such as compassion, nurturing, and self-sacrifice are highly valued. Guanyin’s role as a compassionate savior resonates with these values, allowing her to become a powerful figure, particularly in the lives of female practitioners. Thus, the shift to a female form may reflect a desire for a relatable, accessible figure of compassion, especially for women in east asian societies. While it's widely acknowledged that Guanyin underwent a gender transformation, my research hasn’t clarified the impetus behind this shift, and I’m interested in exploring it further, with a focus on her significance for the queer community as well.
Within the limited scope of my research, I was unable to find conclusive information regarding how and with what such stelae where produced, and more importantly, how they differed between artisans. While most sources referred to casting and molding techniques, it would be interesting to further explore how artistic practices were influenced by cultural differences. For instance, I would like to research how materiality choices were impacted by availability of resources, weather conditions and practice when moving from South to East Asia. As aforementioned, the seven Bodhisattvas were faded and not painted with a narrative quality so one can only speculate the context they were situated in and their relation to the Buddha. It raised the question as to whether the Chinese portrayed their myths and folklore through art in the same way Indians did, and if not, what did they rely on to immortalize their stories. I was also very fascinated by the ‘Chinese Foo Dogs’ but found a lot of conflicting information because some argue their roots were found in India while others say it was Persia or Greece. Once again, the symbolism of the fire and lions in this stela are purely speculative as one cannot know their true significance at time of production, since the exact date is not specified.
Overall, researching this artwork taught me there is much more than meets the eye, and each element is soaked in a deep history and likely has symbolic value. I was successfully able to identify significant similarities and differences between both regions but these were brief and there is a tremendous scope for further investigation. This stele thus stands as a testament to the cross-cultural exchanges that shaped Buddhist art in Asia, blending the serene humanism of Indian art with the spiritual transcendence of Chinese aesthetics.
(Cover Image: Unknown Maker, Chinese, Stela, Northern Wei Dynasty (400- 530 CE), Gray limestone with traces of pigment at view in the RISD Museum via the RISD Museum)