.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
Qi Baishi’s Disciple of Buddha is a decisively modern take on a classical religious subject. It captures a seminal moment in Chan Buddhism (Zen in Japanese), when the Buddha Sakyamuni sparked the enlightenment of his disciple Kasyapa through a simple, delicate gesture.
Kasyapa’s awakening took place on Vulture Peak, a favourite retreat of the Buddha and his followers in the Rajgir hills in North East India. On this occasion, the Buddha did not give a lengthy sermon when his disciples assembled to receive instruction. In fact, he said nothing at all. He simply raised a small flower. Kasyapa broke into a slight smile, an outward sign of his inner transformation through the Buddha’s non-verbal teaching. For Chan and Zen Buddhists, this wordless awakening marks the beginning of their lineage, described as a ‘separate transmission outside the sutras, not based on language.’
Qi painted the Buddha’s robe in bold, confident strokes. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and lines around his mouth stress his humanity and mortality. This weathered, open face is far removed from the idealised divine countenance so often seen in historic paintings and sculptures of the Buddha. His robes are a muted grey, and his hair a dense pile of snail-like curls. The flower in his hand is an uncomplicated white blossom.
Qi’s characteristically accessible and direct style of painting forms an eloquent synergy with the religious narrative in this painting. Both are deceptively simple yet powerfully immediate. Both convey the transformative power of a direct gesture.
Kasyapa’s awakening took place on Vulture Peak, a favourite retreat of the Buddha and his followers in the Rajgir hills in North East India. On this occasion, the Buddha did not give a lengthy sermon when his disciples assembled to receive instruction. In fact, he said nothing at all. He simply raised a small flower. Kasyapa broke into a slight smile, an outward sign of his inner transformation through the Buddha’s non-verbal teaching. For Chan and Zen Buddhists, this wordless awakening marks the beginning of their lineage, described as a ‘separate transmission outside the sutras, not based on language.’
Qi painted the Buddha’s robe in bold, confident strokes. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and lines around his mouth stress his humanity and mortality. This weathered, open face is far removed from the idealised divine countenance so often seen in historic paintings and sculptures of the Buddha. His robes are a muted grey, and his hair a dense pile of snail-like curls. The flower in his hand is an uncomplicated white blossom.
Qi’s characteristically accessible and direct style of painting forms an eloquent synergy with the religious narrative in this painting. Both are deceptively simple yet powerfully immediate. Both convey the transformative power of a direct gesture.