The River Bend
Artist
Kuncan
(Chinese, 1612-1673)
Date1661
DynastyQing dynasty (1644-1911)
MaterialsInk on paper
DimensionsH. 39 1/2 in x W. 47 1/4 in, H. 100.3 cm x W. 120 cm (image); H. 93 7/8 in x W. 50 in, H. 238.4 cm x W. 127 cm (overall)
Credit LineThe Avery Brundage Collection
Object numberB65D53
DepartmentChinese Art
ClassificationsPainting
On View
Not on viewSignedArtist signature and date: 署款：辛丑八月一日，坐大歇堂作此。天壤石溪殘道人。
注：辛丑為順治十八年(1661年) 。
Seal：石溪（白文方印）；介丘（朱文方印）；好夢（椭圓朱文印）。
Collector's seal：曾藏方夢園家（朱文方印）；愛住XX（白文方印，两字不清）。
Inscribed"I grew weary of the city and retired to the riverside. Early in the morning, after bathing, I came to the famous Xiang River [in Hunan province] and sang sad songs to the cloudy mountaintops. This is the place where Duke of Fan used to visit and hold gatherings.
As I watched the dusty world, my mind reverted to a state of dejection and to the
desolation of an unkempt garden. I became entangled in melancholy.
When the immortal Wang Zijin attained the Way, he disappeared in scrolls of clouds. Phoenixes sang over the Yellow and Ren rivers, and cranes nested and stayed for an entire year.
A cool wind rises, falters, and dies. The water in the creek is limpid. The swirling river then invades the creek's boundaries. I forget my own existence to follow Ji and Yuan. They lived with ink slabs as neighbors and cared only for literary gems.
The starving kite can only wail, but what is the use of just lamenting? Even if Heaven had kept secret the works of Zhong and Wang, the bones and flesh of their beings would have remained the same. When the hearts are free from all impurities, genius is always clearly manifested.
Made the first day of the eighth month of xinchou [1661] while sitting in the Daxie Studio. Tianran, the Crippled Taoist of Stone Valley [Shixi Candaoren, one of the artist's many artistic names]"
自題詩：城市厭煩懊，江山玩清曉。盥濯臨石湖, 吟嘯望雲巘。范公逰集地，登臨陟塵遣。悽悽靡遺構, 鬱鬱猶荒苑。仙人王子晋，抱道雲舒卷。鳳吹翔河汾, 棲偃凉風生。短檻溪水清, 涴涴何當臨。此際忘年從稽阮，生與愧為鄰。惟知楮穎珍，飢鳶繼吟嘯，哪用憂空困。夭燆鍾王跡，遒然骨肉匀。澄懷無渣滓，時時見天真。
More InformationKuncan exemplifies the educated artists who lived through the fall of the Chinese-ruled Ming dynasty (1368–1644) and into the Manchu-ruled Qing dynasty (1644–1911). The Manchu conquest was a devastating event, yet outright protest was impossible. Becoming a recluse at a Buddhist monastery was one way of escaping the turmoil; indirect protest could be registered through the choice of a painting style and in the wording of inscriptions. This was the route chosen by Kuncan, who was eventually appointed abbot of a monastery near Nanjing.
Kuncan's dry, rough style is personal, and it reflects something of his state of mind. In the painting's long inscription, he openly expresses his emotions:
I grew weary of the city and retired to the riverside. Early in the morning, after bathing, I came to the famous Xiang River [in Hunan province] and sang sad songs to the cloudy mountaintops. This is the place where the Duke of Fan used to visit and hold gatherings. As I watched the dusty world, my mind reverted to a state of dejection and to the desolation of an unkempt garden. I became entangled in melancholy. When the immortal Wang Zijin attained the Way [of the Dao], he disappeared in scrolls of clouds. Phoenixes sang over the Yellow and Ren rivers, and cranes nested and stayed for an entire year. A cool wind rises, falters, and dies. The water in the creek is limpid. The swirling river then invades the creek's boundaries. I forget my own existence to follow Ji and Yuan. They lived with ink slabs as neighbors and cared only for literary gems. The starving kite can only wail, but what is the use of just lamenting? Even if Heaven had kept secret the works of Zhong and Wang, the bones and flesh of their beings would have remained the same. When the heart is free from all impurities, genius is always clearly manifested.
Made the first day of the eighth month of xinchou [1661] while sitting in the Daxie Studio. Tianran, the Crippled Daoist of Stone Valley, Shixi Candaoren [one of the artist's many artistic names].
Kuncan's dry, rough style is personal, and it reflects something of his state of mind. In the painting's long inscription, he openly expresses his emotions:
I grew weary of the city and retired to the riverside. Early in the morning, after bathing, I came to the famous Xiang River [in Hunan province] and sang sad songs to the cloudy mountaintops. This is the place where the Duke of Fan used to visit and hold gatherings. As I watched the dusty world, my mind reverted to a state of dejection and to the desolation of an unkempt garden. I became entangled in melancholy. When the immortal Wang Zijin attained the Way [of the Dao], he disappeared in scrolls of clouds. Phoenixes sang over the Yellow and Ren rivers, and cranes nested and stayed for an entire year. A cool wind rises, falters, and dies. The water in the creek is limpid. The swirling river then invades the creek's boundaries. I forget my own existence to follow Ji and Yuan. They lived with ink slabs as neighbors and cared only for literary gems. The starving kite can only wail, but what is the use of just lamenting? Even if Heaven had kept secret the works of Zhong and Wang, the bones and flesh of their beings would have remained the same. When the heart is free from all impurities, genius is always clearly manifested.
Made the first day of the eighth month of xinchou [1661] while sitting in the Daxie Studio. Tianran, the Crippled Daoist of Stone Valley, Shixi Candaoren [one of the artist's many artistic names].
approx. 1850-1950
