Day 112 -Buddha plaque
December 20, 2018
Gallery 246 contains objects from Burma and from central and northern Thailand that were produced during the seventh through ninth centuries. The wall placard says that, in general, the Indian influence was stronger in peninsular Thailand than in these areas, which were not on the major trade routes linking India and China.
I don't find most of the objects all that compelling, although I have to admit that my desire to get home before we get hit by a major rainstorm trumps my desire to look at them closely. So much for my aesthetic sensibilities! That said, I'm interested to see that faces made in stucco look much more plastic- and funny, with big noses and receding chins, than those made of stone. These stucco and terra-cotta figures, I read, often adorned the sides of temples.
Today's object is a small clay plaque, perhaps six inches high, that shows Buddha seated on a raised platform under a bodhi (aka bo) tree flanked by two standing bodhisattvas. Buddha faces us full-on; he sits in a cross-legged yoga position, his hands clasped in his lap. The much smaller bodhisattvas are shown in profile. All three figures wear elaborate headdresses.
The plaque appeals for three reasons. First, I like the way the tree, with its big leaves and spindly, arcing branches, is represented; it takes up almost half the space. Second, I note that the object was donated to the Met in 1991 by friends of Jim Thompson. I remember that Judi Anderson and I visited Thompson's lovely home, now a museum, when we were in Bangkok. Thompson, an American businessman who was an important figure in the silk industry and an avid collector of Southeast Asian art, had wonderful taste; I wonder whether at some point he owned this plaque. So there is a personal connection of sorts.
The third reason also entails a personal association. I just finished reading Neil MacGregor's Living With the Gods, a book about the role that religion plays in society. One of the chapters discusses pilgrimages to holy sites, and the fact that pilgrims often brought home medals or other keepsakes to mark their journeys to the sacred places. As I recall, MacGregor talked largely about Christian pilgrimages. But a wall caption explains that the manufacture of plaques like the Buddha plaque originated in major pilgrimage sites along the Ganges, where Buddha lived. It's so interesting to think of these plaques as the sort of thing that Buddhist pilgrims would want to bring home as souvenirs, just as Christian pilgrims did. In any event, the very act of producing these plaques with images of Buddha conferred merit on their makers, and their manufacture spread to other parts of Southeast Asia, including central Thailand. I have no idea whether or not the Met plaque was originally a pilgrim's souvenir, but still, relating this object to something I know feels very satisfying
I don't find most of the objects all that compelling, although I have to admit that my desire to get home before we get hit by a major rainstorm trumps my desire to look at them closely. So much for my aesthetic sensibilities! That said, I'm interested to see that faces made in stucco look much more plastic- and funny, with big noses and receding chins, than those made of stone. These stucco and terra-cotta figures, I read, often adorned the sides of temples.
Today's object is a small clay plaque, perhaps six inches high, that shows Buddha seated on a raised platform under a bodhi (aka bo) tree flanked by two standing bodhisattvas. Buddha faces us full-on; he sits in a cross-legged yoga position, his hands clasped in his lap. The much smaller bodhisattvas are shown in profile. All three figures wear elaborate headdresses.
The plaque appeals for three reasons. First, I like the way the tree, with its big leaves and spindly, arcing branches, is represented; it takes up almost half the space. Second, I note that the object was donated to the Met in 1991 by friends of Jim Thompson. I remember that Judi Anderson and I visited Thompson's lovely home, now a museum, when we were in Bangkok. Thompson, an American businessman who was an important figure in the silk industry and an avid collector of Southeast Asian art, had wonderful taste; I wonder whether at some point he owned this plaque. So there is a personal connection of sorts.
The third reason also entails a personal association. I just finished reading Neil MacGregor's Living With the Gods, a book about the role that religion plays in society. One of the chapters discusses pilgrimages to holy sites, and the fact that pilgrims often brought home medals or other keepsakes to mark their journeys to the sacred places. As I recall, MacGregor talked largely about Christian pilgrimages. But a wall caption explains that the manufacture of plaques like the Buddha plaque originated in major pilgrimage sites along the Ganges, where Buddha lived. It's so interesting to think of these plaques as the sort of thing that Buddhist pilgrims would want to bring home as souvenirs, just as Christian pilgrims did. In any event, the very act of producing these plaques with images of Buddha conferred merit on their makers, and their manufacture spread to other parts of Southeast Asia, including central Thailand. I have no idea whether or not the Met plaque was originally a pilgrim's souvenir, but still, relating this object to something I know feels very satisfying
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