Ming: 50 Years that Changed China, British Museum, London; Ming: the Golden Empire, National Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh
Peter Lewis visits two exhibitions that explore the legacy of the rich and powerful Ming empire
This year has witnessed a muchness of Ming. Exhibitions in Edinburgh and London have demonstrated nearly three centuries of achievements when 16 emperors of the Zhu family reigned over the largest, richest and most populous empire in the world.
The founding emperor, a Han Chinese, rose from a peasant background to overthrow the Mongol-ruled Yuan dynasty in 1368. This he named Ming (Great Brightness) but chose as his personal title Hongwu (Vast Military Power).
He was intelligent and industrious as a general and an administrator, and he purged dissent by banishments, imprisonments and multiple executions. China became an autocracy; all aspects of life were subordinate to the will of the Son of Heaven, including the arts.
The present government of China is conscious that the Ming were the last truly Chinese dynasty to rule over what historian Craig Clunas has described as a country that possessed a greater land area, bigger cities, bigger armies, bigger ships, bigger palaces, bigger bells, more literate people and more books, ceramic dishes, textiles and spears than any other state on earth. It is an empire whose dominance they seek to emulate.
In the west, the word Ming has interesting connotations. Few of us have any concept other than the fine blue and white porcelain – ceramics that we sigh over in museums or possess in poor imitations on our mantelpieces.
Television shows on antiques have changed our attitudes to an artefact where its worth has replaced its value. And Ming, like Fabergé, Rolex or Lalique, has become a fashionable brand.
To the credit of the British Museum and the National Museum of Scotland, they have both recognised that myopic view. In each of their blockbuster exhibitions they stress just how much else there is to appreciate.
Their publicity features vibrantly coloured images: the British Museum splashes a multi-hued cloisonné enamel jar on its posters and catalogues, while the National Museum of Scotland has silk brocade dominated by two dragons.
Travelling vase
This is not to ignore the power of the familiar. As part of the BP sponsorship of the British Museum’s main exhibition, an iconic blue and white Ming vase has been loaned to four partner museums across Britain.
The vase will travel to Glasgow, Sheffield, Bristol and Basingstoke to be shown alongside regional collections and contemporary artists, who will be invited to create new work.
Ming: the Golden Empire opened in Edinburgh in June and ran until October. The exhibition was also shown in Amsterdam and was made possible by a close association with Nanjing Museum.
Nanjing was the first capital of the Ming empire before it transferred to the newly built Forbidden City in Beijing. One of the early exhibits was a large hanging silk scroll in which the architect Kuai Xiang stands in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace.
Behind is a stable of ceremonial elephants, tributes from Burma and Vietnam. I was fascinated too by a whole range of ceramics, including one named chicken-fat yellow.
Seismic shift
The National Museum of Scotland exhibition had a comprehensive explanation in text and objects detailing religious beliefs and practice. I made obeisance to Wenchang, the god of literature, hopefully successfully. A detailed explanation of the civil service examination system was harder to follow.
The museum had attempted to cover the whole dynasty in one exhibition and, as a result, some text panels on the walls became wearisome. As always on occasions like this you look for the unexpected delight. Here, a small piece of jewellery showing a gold cicada perched on a leaf of jade was exquisite. Objects such as these saved what might otherwise have been a mundane trek round dimly lit cases.
The British Museum exhibition, Ming: 50 Years that Changed China, focuses on the first 50 years of the 15th century and in particular on the influence of the Yongle Emperor (Perpetual Joy) and his grandson, the Xuande Emperor (Proclaimer of Virtue).
The curators’ aim is to show that these decades illustrate a seismic shift in which China was turned upside down. The exhibition has been greeted with delight by most commentators but some historians believe that the Ming emperors were conservative rather than innovative.
Ming mania and careless marketing in the west have ignored the far more artistically creative Song and Tang dynasties. I think these critics are right.
The familiar is evident – scroll paintings, calligraphy, blue and white porcelain, red lacquer, gold chopsticks and ladles, and the traditional portraits of wispy-bearded emperors in fabulous yellow robes.
The general tone of the exhibition is didactic. It is not a show for browsing; the principal appeal is intellectual and the tone is scholarly.
Ming and the Magi
The objects and labels need close study and visitors spend most of the time looking down into glass cases or reading text on walls. It is educational and enlightening but not that exciting. The artefacts, wholesome in themselves, need an interpretive splash of theatricality. It would be good to look up at something and be simply amazed.
The exhibition itself is the second to be shown in the new Sainsbury Exhibitions Gallery (the first was Vikings: Life and Legend, 6 March-22 June 2014), a long rectangular space that aims to provide a better visitor experience in terms of comfort, interpretation and design.
I am not certain that the space is as conducive to wonder as the old Reading Room, which hosted past blockbusters.
But there are unexpected pleasures. These include a long silk hand scroll depicting the emperor in the park with his company of eunuch guards. They are taking part in sports based on military training exercises.
In one scene the emperor watches an archery contest. In another he sits in front of a temporary cloth screen observing riders playing polo. In yet another he watches as his guards play with balls – the exercise looks remarkably like modern-day keepie-uppie.
There are other more culturally significant paintings. A beautiful long image of Spring Rain on the Xiang River by Xia Chang defies belief that it could have been painted in 1455. But even this pales beside Chen Lu’s Plum Blossoms and Moonlight.
It is nearly 800cm long and features exquisite draughtsmanship. In Europe only Dürer could match this.
Porcelain, in a small coup de théâtre, ends the exhibition. A small devotional picture, distemper on linen circa 1495, by the Italian painter Andrea Mantegna shows an Adoration of the Magi.
A middle-aged turbaned Asiatic Melchior holds a Turkish censer, while the young African magus Balthazar carries a covered agate cup. The infant Jesus blesses a bareheaded elderly Caspar, who is offering a rare antique Ming bowl filled with gold.
The three figures conform to conventional Renaissance iconography, representing both three ages and three continents of worshippers. They wait to kiss the baby’s foot in homage.
The symbols are so precisely placed that we are forced to consider the significance of that alien Ming bowl, the earliest representation of such an object in western art. Direct formal trade between Europe and China will not occur till the next century. How did it get here and why is it shown?
Given the movements in the Chinese art market, had Mantegna’s small Ming bowl survived, it would now command a much higher price than the picture. Any bidder would need far more gold than the bowl contains.
Ming: 50 Years that Changed China, British Museum, London
The founding emperor, a Han Chinese, rose from a peasant background to overthrow the Mongol-ruled Yuan dynasty in 1368. This he named Ming (Great Brightness) but chose as his personal title Hongwu (Vast Military Power).
He was intelligent and industrious as a general and an administrator, and he purged dissent by banishments, imprisonments and multiple executions. China became an autocracy; all aspects of life were subordinate to the will of the Son of Heaven, including the arts.
The present government of China is conscious that the Ming were the last truly Chinese dynasty to rule over what historian Craig Clunas has described as a country that possessed a greater land area, bigger cities, bigger armies, bigger ships, bigger palaces, bigger bells, more literate people and more books, ceramic dishes, textiles and spears than any other state on earth. It is an empire whose dominance they seek to emulate.
In the west, the word Ming has interesting connotations. Few of us have any concept other than the fine blue and white porcelain – ceramics that we sigh over in museums or possess in poor imitations on our mantelpieces.
Television shows on antiques have changed our attitudes to an artefact where its worth has replaced its value. And Ming, like Fabergé, Rolex or Lalique, has become a fashionable brand.
To the credit of the British Museum and the National Museum of Scotland, they have both recognised that myopic view. In each of their blockbuster exhibitions they stress just how much else there is to appreciate.
Their publicity features vibrantly coloured images: the British Museum splashes a multi-hued cloisonné enamel jar on its posters and catalogues, while the National Museum of Scotland has silk brocade dominated by two dragons.
Travelling vase
This is not to ignore the power of the familiar. As part of the BP sponsorship of the British Museum’s main exhibition, an iconic blue and white Ming vase has been loaned to four partner museums across Britain.
The vase will travel to Glasgow, Sheffield, Bristol and Basingstoke to be shown alongside regional collections and contemporary artists, who will be invited to create new work.
Ming: the Golden Empire opened in Edinburgh in June and ran until October. The exhibition was also shown in Amsterdam and was made possible by a close association with Nanjing Museum.
Nanjing was the first capital of the Ming empire before it transferred to the newly built Forbidden City in Beijing. One of the early exhibits was a large hanging silk scroll in which the architect Kuai Xiang stands in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace.
Behind is a stable of ceremonial elephants, tributes from Burma and Vietnam. I was fascinated too by a whole range of ceramics, including one named chicken-fat yellow.
Seismic shift
The National Museum of Scotland exhibition had a comprehensive explanation in text and objects detailing religious beliefs and practice. I made obeisance to Wenchang, the god of literature, hopefully successfully. A detailed explanation of the civil service examination system was harder to follow.
The museum had attempted to cover the whole dynasty in one exhibition and, as a result, some text panels on the walls became wearisome. As always on occasions like this you look for the unexpected delight. Here, a small piece of jewellery showing a gold cicada perched on a leaf of jade was exquisite. Objects such as these saved what might otherwise have been a mundane trek round dimly lit cases.
The British Museum exhibition, Ming: 50 Years that Changed China, focuses on the first 50 years of the 15th century and in particular on the influence of the Yongle Emperor (Perpetual Joy) and his grandson, the Xuande Emperor (Proclaimer of Virtue).
The curators’ aim is to show that these decades illustrate a seismic shift in which China was turned upside down. The exhibition has been greeted with delight by most commentators but some historians believe that the Ming emperors were conservative rather than innovative.
Ming mania and careless marketing in the west have ignored the far more artistically creative Song and Tang dynasties. I think these critics are right.
The familiar is evident – scroll paintings, calligraphy, blue and white porcelain, red lacquer, gold chopsticks and ladles, and the traditional portraits of wispy-bearded emperors in fabulous yellow robes.
The general tone of the exhibition is didactic. It is not a show for browsing; the principal appeal is intellectual and the tone is scholarly.
Ming and the Magi
The objects and labels need close study and visitors spend most of the time looking down into glass cases or reading text on walls. It is educational and enlightening but not that exciting. The artefacts, wholesome in themselves, need an interpretive splash of theatricality. It would be good to look up at something and be simply amazed.
The exhibition itself is the second to be shown in the new Sainsbury Exhibitions Gallery (the first was Vikings: Life and Legend, 6 March-22 June 2014), a long rectangular space that aims to provide a better visitor experience in terms of comfort, interpretation and design.
I am not certain that the space is as conducive to wonder as the old Reading Room, which hosted past blockbusters.
But there are unexpected pleasures. These include a long silk hand scroll depicting the emperor in the park with his company of eunuch guards. They are taking part in sports based on military training exercises.
In one scene the emperor watches an archery contest. In another he sits in front of a temporary cloth screen observing riders playing polo. In yet another he watches as his guards play with balls – the exercise looks remarkably like modern-day keepie-uppie.
There are other more culturally significant paintings. A beautiful long image of Spring Rain on the Xiang River by Xia Chang defies belief that it could have been painted in 1455. But even this pales beside Chen Lu’s Plum Blossoms and Moonlight.
It is nearly 800cm long and features exquisite draughtsmanship. In Europe only Dürer could match this.
Porcelain, in a small coup de théâtre, ends the exhibition. A small devotional picture, distemper on linen circa 1495, by the Italian painter Andrea Mantegna shows an Adoration of the Magi.
A middle-aged turbaned Asiatic Melchior holds a Turkish censer, while the young African magus Balthazar carries a covered agate cup. The infant Jesus blesses a bareheaded elderly Caspar, who is offering a rare antique Ming bowl filled with gold.
The three figures conform to conventional Renaissance iconography, representing both three ages and three continents of worshippers. They wait to kiss the baby’s foot in homage.
The symbols are so precisely placed that we are forced to consider the significance of that alien Ming bowl, the earliest representation of such an object in western art. Direct formal trade between Europe and China will not occur till the next century. How did it get here and why is it shown?
Given the movements in the Chinese art market, had Mantegna’s small Ming bowl survived, it would now command a much higher price than the picture. Any bidder would need far more gold than the bowl contains.
Project data
Ming: 50 Years that Changed China, British Museum, London
- Cost undisclosed
- Sponsor BP
- Partner Art Exhibitions China
- Display cases TESS Demountable
- Exhibition ends 4 January 2015
- Museums Association members get free entry to temporary exhibitions at the British Museum (Monday to Friday)
- Cost £370,000
- Sponsor Baillie Gifford
- Design, lighting and display cases Nomad Exhibitions
- Exhibition dates 27 June-19 October