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Raktayamari
with Entourage
Central Tibet, early 14th century Pigments on cotton, 25 3/4 x 21 3/4 in (65.4 x 55.5 cm) Not only is this one of the finest thankas in the Ford collection, but it is also one of the earliest-known paintings of this subject. It is certainly earlier than other Raktayamari paintings given fifteenth-century dates and is at least coeval to a mandala in the Kronos Collection dated to the first half of the fourteenth century. All four paintings were commissioned by Sakyapas and show strong influences from the Newar style, which at this time was predominant in Sakyapa monastic establishments. This particular thanka may well have been rendered in the artistic milieu of Shalu in the early fourteenth century, in which case it may be the earliest example of a Raktayamari mandala. Yamari literally means the enemy of Yama, who is the lord of death and is therefore homonymous with the expression Yamantaka, or exterminator of Yama. The prefix rakta simply means red. The name of his consort, or prajna, is Vajravetali, or the female ghoul, and not Svabha-Prajna. The two together are locked in a sexual embrace on a red buffalo, which is crushing a handsome blue male. If the object in his raised hand is an arrow, then he may represent Kama or Mara, the god who arouses desire, and also signifies death in Buddhist thought. Yamari holds the vajra-crowned staff (danda) and the skull cup, while Vajravetali has the ubiquitous chopper and skull cup. Interestingly, in both the Ford and the Kronos thankas, her right arm goes all the way around his neck, so that the blade of the chopper is in the cup, whereas, in later representations, the chopper is held over his left shoulder. Moreover, in none of the others is the dark figure beneath the buffalo as active. Rather, he lies at times like a corpse on the animal's back. One wonders whether such variations have theological implications or simply reflect the artist's individual impulses. That the formation of the entourage suggests divergent teachings or visions is clear enough from the differences in the numbers and forms of the deities and of the teachers, both Indian and Tibetan, accommodated around the central tableau depicted against a bold, fiery aureole. In comparison with the other fourteenth- and fifteenth-century examples cited earlier, the Fords' is the simplest. Four other representations of the central pair, with different colors, and four pots with plants and skull cups are included symmetrically within the panel. In the bottom register are fifteen clones of the principal pair, exactly as in a fifteenth-century mandala in Boston. In the top register, two representations of Krishnayamari, or Black Yamari, at the two ends enclose nine human transmitters of the Raktayamari teachings. Led by Virupa, the first five are mahasiddhas; they are followed by two pairs of conversing monks, the first of whom is an Indian. The second mahasiddha, riding the tiger with his spiritual consort, is Dombipa, whose guru was Virupa. TheTibetan monks are of the Sakya order. |
| THE HISTORY OF
TAOISM Russell Kirkland University of Georgia © 2002 THE TEXTS OF "CLASSICAL TAOISM" There were actually no “Taoists” per se in “classical China” (i.e., before the Ch’in/Han unification, ca. 200 BCE). (It was not until early medieval times—ca. 500 CE—that anyone in China began to identify themselves as “Taoists” to distinguish their traditions and practices from those of Confucians or Buddhists.) But by early Han times, historians trying to “make sense” of the plethora of writings and ideas from classical times coined a label (tao-chia) and applied it to some of the ancient materials; a variety of such writings, and the ideas in them, were thus artificially and retroactively identified as “taoist,” despite the fact that their original authors were a diverse lot and never regarded themselves (or each other) as members of any “school” or “group.” Once Taoism per se developed, much later, the Taoists who put together their “canon” (i.e., their corpus of important texts) decided to include a variety of texts from classical times; they did so partly because they found inspiration in those texts, but mostly because such texts could be used to show how ancient and noble their tradition actually was. In Han times, the imperial government divinized “Lao-tzu” (a fictitious classical “author”), stimulating a late-Han belief that “Lord Lao” mandated certain new religious movements. Hence, later Taoists often recognized Lord Lao as the originator of their tradition, while identifying other historical personages as more proximate “founders.” In modern culture, it is widely believed that the core of “classical Taoism” was a certain set of ideas. In reality, the classical roots of Taoism lay in the practices of unknown men and women who tried to refine and transform themselves to attain full integration with life’s deepest realities. Eventually, around the 4th-century BCE, some of them anonymously wrote about such practices, urging others to enage in them, thereby solving life’s problems. In time, such self-cultivation practices were even marketed as a solution to social and political problems. In modern times, non-Taoists around the world have enjoyed such ideas, and have re-interpreted such texts as Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu as offering ideal solutions to modern problems. However, in doing so they have often done violence to the authentic messages of the ancient texts, and have neglected the ways that those messages were preserved by centuries of living Taoists of China, men and women who continue to engage in holistic self-cultivation. Today’s scholars debate the dating, contents, and signficance of the classical texts associated with Taoism. |
