Who was Su Shi, and why is he so revered within Chinese culture?
Art critic Alastair Sooke and Christie’s specialist Sophia Zhou look at the life and times of this giant of Chinese culture, and reflect on his revolutionary ideas about what painting could be
‘During the Song dynasty, a period of unsurpassed refinement
in the arts in China, Su Shi had a brilliant and staggeringly
varied career,’ explains art critic Alastair Sooke. A poet, politician, writer, calligrapher, painter and aesthetic theorist, Su Shi was the pre-eminent scholar of the Song dynasty. ‘He was so prolific in so many different fields that it is very tempting
to think of him as a proto-Renaissance man,’ says Sooke, ‘even though he was born four centuries before Leonardo.’
In order to appreciate Su Shi’s pre-eminent place within Chinese
culture, it is important to understand the period and society
in which he lived. The Song dynasty (960-1279) was a key
turning point in Chinese history — a period that witnessed
an explosion in population, significant increases in the
empire’s economic capacity and power, and rising levels of
education. ‘The Song dynasty was also the peak of artistic
achievement in the history of Chinese art,’ points out Chinese Paintings specialist Sophia Zhou.
Empire was administered and run by scholar officials who
were selected through a meritocratic system of examination
and imperially orchestrated appointments. One of the results
of this meritocracy was a flowering of painting and calligraphy
— mandatory arts for scholar-officials. While scholar-officials had previously been required to be able to evaluate paintings aesthetically, they were not necessarily required to be able to paint.
Su Shi was born into a literary family in 1037. At the age
of 19 he passed the highest-level civil service examinations
with flying colours, and was marked out as a rising star within
the world of officialdom. His lucid, eloquent essays greatly
impressed Emperor Renzong (1010-1063) and by the time the young Emperor
Shenzong (1048-1085) ascended to the throne in 1067, Su Shi was a respected
figure among scholar-officials at court.
Tensions existed between rival political factions
within the imperial court, however, and in 1071 Su Shi fell foul of this
factionalism and left the capital to take up a post in Hangzhou.
Over almost a decade, he held a variety of government positions
in prefectures including Mizhou, Xuzhou and Huzhou.
In 1079, Su Shi was arrested and put in jail. It is thought that the reason for his punishment and subsequent banishment were private verses he had written that mildly satirised the reformist movement, which held sway at court at the time.
came out in 1080 he was a different man,’ explains Zhou.
‘He was more introspective and started to shy away
from politics, and began instead to contemplate on life and
philosophy. He was reading Confucius and the Book of Changes [an ancient Chinese text], and writing a lot of poetry.’
Su Shi was exiled to provincial Huangzhou, where he lived in relative poverty. He built a farm in the foothills of what became known as the Eastern Slope
(Dongpo), and began to call himself Master of the
Eastern Slope (Su Dongpo). For all the hardships he experienced in exile, it was
during this period that he produced some of his most well-known
Frustrated with the court and living in exile, Su Shi’s works from this period ‘often conveyed a sense of desolation’, says Kim Yu, Christie’s International Senior Specialist in Chinese Paintings. ‘The artworks he created were different from those artisans, craftsmen or professional painters of the Imperial Academy. The bamboo plant and rocks, painted with brushstrokes that twist and turn, give a real air of elegance and grace. The lines may seem simple and yet they are incredibly varied and expressive.’
In 1086, Su Shi was recalled to the capital. During his absence,
a power shift had taken place with the ascension of a dowager
Empress who had a more sympathetic view of the conservative
faction of which Su Shi was by then among the most senior
Su Shi was banished for the second time in 1094, being sent to Huizhou (in present-day Guangdong province) and Danzhou. During the Song dynasty, this provincial, malaria-ridden backwater would have been seen as a death sentence. Su Shi survived, however, and was pardoned in 1100, whereupon he was posted to Changzhou. He died the following year, while en route to his new assignment.
Today, Su Shi is recognised as one of the eight great prose masters of the Tang and Song, and one of the four Song masters of calligraphy. His poems, including At Red Cliff, Cherishing the Past and Prelude to the Water Melody, have become embedded in Chinese culture, inspiring landscape paintings and poetic illustrations throughout the Ming and Qing dynasties. His calligraphy has been copied, studied and collected for centuries.
Su Shi’s ideas on what it was to create an image, and the relationship
of the image to the internal psychology of the painter, were
revolutionary, and can be seen as a launchpad for painting
as a non-representational, psychologically driven process.
It was Su Shi who first began to explore concepts of artistic
practice as the outward expression of the artist’s interior
Similarly revolutionary was Su Shi’s approach to brushwork. Other contemporary painters pursued a representational style that involved great detail and strong delineation. But Su
Shi’s brushwork is impressionistic and spare. Writing on the principles by which to judge the highest class of painting, Su Shi once declared, ‘If one discusses painting in terms of formal likeness, one is no different from a child.’ For him, there was painting in poetry and poetry in painting.
‘There is a saying in Chinese art history that “ink has five colours”,’ says Zhou. ‘Ink has all that you need to depict the external world and to express yourself and whatever your artistic impulses have to say. Wood and Rock is a true embodiment of the artist’s state of mind at the time, which you can see so palpably in the painting.’
Ancient rocks and withered trees were subjects that were close to Su Shi’s heart. In Chinese iconography the withered tree has been imbued with many different meanings. It is associated with notions of surviving difficult situations, such as the one Su Shi found himself in, but still being able to grow tall.
Wood and Rock is inscribed with the poetry of Su Shi’s
friend Mi Fu (1051-1107), which was probably added at a later date. Like
Su Shi, Mi Fu was a celebrated poet, calligrapher, painter
and statesman. For Su Shi, expressing affinity through the
giving and exchanging of painting and verse in the form of
calligraphy was a means of building networks of cultural
The ink traces on this scroll offer insights into abstracted
ideas of how Su Shi and Mi Fu thought and conceived of art,
but also illuminate how these exceptional men of the 11th
century understood each other. They are, therefore, tangible representations of the relationships between cultural giants of the
Mi Fu’s verse on the scroll interprets his friend’s painting
of a withered tree as an intimate expression of oneself at
an old age. The pathos in Mi Fu’s lament certainly resonates
with what is known of Su Shi’s experiences in exile. In Mi
Fu’s other writings, he speaks of how Su Shi condensed his
emotions in the turns of his brush and the construction of
his rocks and trees.
‘What Su Shi did, and what is palpable, tangible and legible
in Wood and Rock,’ says Chinese Paintings specialist
Malcolm McNeill, ‘was to replace illusion with something that,
to his own understanding, was very much more psychologically
raw and direct. In the elegant curves across the rock, every
mark from each bristle coated in dry unsaturated ink creates
a sense of this.’
And that, says Alastair Sooke, is Su Shi’s ‘gift to art history’
— the sense of an artist’s inner psychology being appropriate
subject matter for art.