This fellow in a New York mood is Ai Weiwei, self-photographed in 1983. His show at Asia Society just completed, but there is still what looks like an excellent exhibition of Buddhist sculptures from Pakistan at the Asia Society Museum, including this handsome Gandharan bloke, on loan from the Lahore Museum:

Ai Weiwei, 1983 is a post from: 7junipers.com

English speakers have an uphill slog to make sense of Chinese pronunciation from its transliteration. The Wade-Giles transliteration system used a lot of diacritical marks, with all the annoyances that entails. But the Pinyin system, which now far predominates (and is used in the museum’s materials) has its own challenges. Such as:

1. Q
   This one at least is easy to learn. Q is pronounced like “ch,” so “Qin” is pronounced “Chin.”
2. Zh
   You would think this would represent the initial sound of the French word “gardin,” or the way some people pronounce the second gee in “garage.” Nope. It’s pronounced like a J. “Zhou” is “Joe.”
3. Ang
   What could be simpler, right? Wrong. No really, wrong: it’s pronounced more like the “ong” in “wrong.”
4. X
   Who knows how to pronounce X in any language? In the U.S. many people just give up and pronounce the Spanish name Xavier as “Ex-avier.” In Pinyin X represents a kind of “sh” or “hs” sound, sort of like in the word “sheer.”
5. C
   If you know Western languages you would have three guesses about this one: the C in “cat,” the S in “sat,” or the CH in “chat.” But it’s actually pronounced more like the “ts” in “nets.”
6. Iu
   When you get to the IU sound you know when Pinyin was constructed someone must really have been trying to be difficult. This is pronounced like the “yo” in “yoyo.”
7. I
   After c, s, or z the “i” sound is pronounced like the “i” in “sir”: after ch, sh, zh, or r it’s like the whole”ir” sound in the same word, “sir.”
8. Z
   This isn’t really too bad. Just add a little initial dee sound, like the “dz” in “adze.”
9. Er
   Not the sound a hesitant speaker makes, this is a homonym for the English word “are.”
10. Ong
    This is pronounced like the “ung” in the German “achtung.”

Got that? Now we’re ready to tackle any Chinese name. Can you say the name of the late Ming painter Dong Qichang? Sure you can. It’s something like “Dung Chi(r)chong.” Er, I think. Please correct me.

The ten most confounding Pinyin pronunciations is a post from: 7junipers.com

This unusual enso based on the character for heart/mind was made by Daido Bunka in the first half of the eighteenth century.

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The Character for ”Heart/Mind” as an Ens?, 18th century, by Daido Bunka (Japan, 1680-1752). Hanging scroll, ink on paper, image 11 3/16 x 21 in. Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Gift of Edwin Janss, M.84.211.1.

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Daido Bunka enso is a post from: 7junipers.com

Singapore has a tradition of vibrant colored buildings with shutters. This great geometric composition comes from swisscan’s photostream.

Photo Wednesday: Red house in Singapore is a post from: 7junipers.com

The Longest Way is a post from: 7junipers.com

This image of two women viewing omikuji, or rolled-up fortunes, comes from kalandrakas’ photostream. Kalandrakas writes:

Omikuji are random fortunes written on strips of paper at Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples in Japan.

The omikuji predicts the person’s chances of his or her hopes coming true, of finding a good match, or generally matters of health, fortune, life, etc. When the prediction is bad, it is a custom to fold up the strip of paper and attach it to a pine tree in the temple grounds. A purported reason for this custom is a pun on the word for pine tree (? matsu) and the verb ‘to wait’ (?? matsu), the idea being that the bad luck will wait by the tree rather than attach itself to the bearer. In the event of the fortune being good, the bearer should keep it. Though nowadays, this custom seems more of a children’s amusement, omikuji are available at most shrines, and remain one of the traditional activities related to shrine-going . . .

Photo Wednesday: Omikuji is a post from: 7junipers.com

Stones in Japan are used for bridges, water containers, lanterns, and many other purposes. They are especially used as steps on paths.

In an echo of Japan’s animistic native beliefs, stones are chosen for the spirit they emanate. They form a link between people and the earth. Stones that are scored or pitted or covered with moss evoke the spirit of wabi-sabi — of harmonious simplicity and impermanence (more on this in a subsequent post).

This image of petal-covered stepping stone as Shokokuji, a Rinzai Zen temple in Kyoto, comes from EYLC’s photostream.

The spirit of stones is a post from: 7junipers.com

This photo of Hongkong at twilight comes from Stuck in Customs’ photostream

Photo Wednesday: Hongkong lights is a post from: 7junipers.com

Indra, a major Hindu deity, also figures in the Thai Buddhist belief system, where he seen as powerful but limited and subservient to the Buddha (and sometimes as one of the four guardian kings of the cardinal directions). He is recognizable by his green skin.

The image shown is a detail from a large painting of the story of the life of the Buddha in the collection of the Asian Art Museum (Scenes from the life of the Buddha, 1800-1850. Thailand; paint and gold on cloth. Gift from the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation’s Southeast Asian Art Collection, 2006.27.122.15).  The painting will be displayed during the museum’s upcoming Emerald Cities: Arts of Siam and Burma exhibition

In an essay I wrote on the subject of translation, I talked about the “middle way” of the Chinese translator Xuanzang (who lived in the seventh century but may be most familiar from his role in the Ming dynasty “Monkey” stories). Xuanzang insisted that translation be both “truthful” and “intelligible to the populace.” In the essay I go on to discuss other advocates of the middle way, such as the Mexican poet Octavio Paz.

In this detail Indra makes a case for the middle way in a charming manner. The Buddha-to-be (shortly before his enlightenment) has been troubled about whether to give up the extreme austerities he has been practicing. Here Indra appears to him and plucks three strings of a lute-like instrument. One string is too slack, and it makes only a dull sound. One string is too tight, and it breaks when plucked. Only the properly tightened string makes a beautiful sound.

Indra’s lute is a post from: 7junipers.com

This image of patterns and reflections at Wat Rajabophit, Bangkok, Thailand, comes from Taiger808′s photostream. The temple was constructed in 1869 under the command of King Rama V.

Photo Wednesday: Wat Rajabophit is a post from: 7junipers.com

This photo of Indonesian officials at an election polling stations is by Andry Prasetyo of Reuters; it appeared in the New York Times. The officials are dressed as puppet theater characters.

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Photo Wednesday: Indonesian election officials is a post from: 7junipers.com

Check out this entrancingly nutty samurai samba. Via Kenneth Ikemoto at the Asian Art Museum blog.

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Samurai samba is a post from: 7junipers.com

J. S. Marcus writes in the WSJ:

Kew has … installed a special Indian garden in the museum’s forecourt. Designed by Kew horticulturalists Steve Ruddy and Richard Wilford, “India Landscape” transforms 440 square meters of lawn into a concise overview of the Indian subcontinent’s three main habitats: the Himalayan Mountains, the temperate woodlands of the Himalayan foothills and the humid subtropical lowlands.

The Himalayas are conjured up with a vertical rock garden, surrounded by pine trees and cranesbill. The temperate zone includes a Himalayan walnut tree and a blue poppy, one of the world’s truly blue flowers. The subtropical regions come to life thanks to a lotus filled pond, and a mature banyan tree. The winding path, in the shadow of the British Museum’s neoclassical façade, has a dense but spacious quality, and the gardeners have somehow managed to create a sense of north-south travel as we make our way from barren rocks to the spidery lushness of the banyan.

The British Museum will collaborate with Kew on:

• Garden and Cosmos: the Royal Paintings of Jodhpur, May 28 to August 23.
• India Landscape, May 2 to September 28, British Museum forecourt, free.
  Culture of import
• A Bollywood film festival
• Evenings of Indian performance, dance, music, and food
• Lunchtime lectures in the new garden, by museum curators and Kew gardeners, on Indian medicinal plants, horticulture, landscapes and ecology
• Painting and printing workshops, recreating traditional Indian craft techniques

A nice program!

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Indian Summer is a post from: 7junipers.com

In conjunction with its exhibition The Dragon’s Gift: The Sacred Arts of Bhutan, the Asian Art Museum is hosting two Bhutanese monks, Lopen Neten, who is from eastern Bhutan, and Lopen Gyem, who is from western Bhutan. The monks created a beautiful sand mandala that can be glimpsed in this video and are now working on a second one.

Usually work on the mandala occurs around 1:00. At about 11:00 and 3:00 the monks perform their prayer, or pujas, as viewed here from the second floor walkway.

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Lopen Neten and Lopen Gyem performing pujas is a post from: 7junipers.com

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Ani Choying Drolmna is a post from: 7junipers.com

Yesterday the Portland Art Museum unveiled a recent purchase: an eleventh-century stone Ganesha from northeastern India.

The Portland Ganesha is shown seated in the posture of “royal ease,” with one knee raised. His rat mount looks up from below, a wisdom bearer (vidyadhara) reaches down from above with a garland of flowers. One of Ganesha’s hands is held in the gesture of reassurance, while the others hold various objects.

How was this object removed from India? No one seems sure.

In the museum world the date 1970 is a significant one. In that year the United Nations adopted measures intended to prevent the looting of antiquities. So objects whose provenance is murky prior to 1970 may be points of contention. The museum bought this work at a Christie’s auction in 2008; in 2000 it had been sold by Sotheby’s. But there seems to be no explanation how Sotheby’s came by the object, as Sotheby’s says its documentation is “missing.”

According to the Association of Art Museum Directors, when a work is acquired despite doubts about its provenance, it is supposed to be listed in an object registry on the AAMD’s website. The registry is intended to provide a mechanism for anyone with a claim to ownership of the work to examine the evidence and come forward. This Ganesha is historic in that it is the first such work to be placed on that list.

Was the sculpture obtained legally, or was it stolen? Why is there no existing record of a sale? Under these circumstances is it appropriate for a Western museum to purchase and display such a work? Does going public and listing the object on the registry make a difference? What will happen if a claimant appears?

These are the kinds of questions that will play out in coming years.

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Ganesha, 11th c. Northeastern India, Pala dynasty (mid-8th-12th century). Stone.

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The Portland Ganesha is a post from: 7junipers.com

I love this very blue blue meanie from The Dragon’s Gift: The Sacred Arts of Bhutan, a show that’s about to open at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco.

Despite appearances, he’s not really a meanie. He’s a wrathful deity and — so long as you are on the side of the true dharma — he’s your friend. Wrathful deities protect against malevolent forces. As a result, few images of wrathful deities were allowed to be removed from Bhutan for the exhibition, for fear of leaving the country unprotected.

Vajrabhairava is a wrathful form of Manjushri, the bodhisattva of wisdom (you can see Manjushri’s peaceful head at the top of Vajrabhairava’s multiples heads in this image). He is shown here without his female partner. But, clearly, he is ready for her.

The painting depicts Vajrabhairava performing a war dance by which he transforms demons into protectors of the Buddhist doctrine. Backing up his lead performance is a captivating chorus of similar blue figures. His thirty-two outer hands carry various weapons, which are repeated in the hands of figures dancing around him. His main hands hold a chopper and a skull cup. With his sixteen feet Vajrabhairava tramples on all sorts of creatures to stop harmful influences in their tracks.

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The wrathful deity Vajrabhairava, 1700–1800. Bhutan. Ink and mineral colors on cotton. Phajoding Monastery, Thimphu, Bhutan.

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Vajrabhairava’s war dance is a post from: 7junipers.com

Folks in the San Francisco area on February 26, March 26, or April 23 this year have an opportunity to tour the Asian Art Museum with members of the San Francisco Zen Center. Each group is limited to 15 people. Cost is $20, which includes $15 for dinner in the Asian’s private dining area, which is usually restricted mainly to high-level donors. Sign-up is by e-mail to events [at] sfzc [dot] org, specifying a date.

The SFZC’s appealing logo features an enso by — I think — the center’s founder, Shunryu Suzuki-roshi (not to be confused with Zen scholar D.T. Suzuki), a Japanese Zen priest belonging to the Soto lineage, who came to San Francisco in 1959 at the age of fifty-four and helped popularize Zen teachings in the U.S.

(If I’m wrong about attributingt the enso to Suzuki Roshi, let me know — it’s good enso.)

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San Francisco Zen Center tour of Asian Art Museum is a post from: 7junipers.com