Jin Dynasty [265-419 CE]

Wei Shuo [272-349 CE]

Madam Wei was a noted calligrapher and theorist of the Jin Dynasty, the author of the groundbreaking essay Picture of a Brush Battle. She was the student of Zhong Yao himself (the originator of Regular Style), and the teacher of Wang Xizhi (the most famed calligrapher in all of Chinese history). So she did pretty well. And yet, I'm sorry for her.

Nobody thought of teaching her calligraphy when she was a little girl, you see. She practiced herself after watching her uncle, when she was left alone to wash his brushes. Her talent blossomed in solitude. But even after it was discovered, and her uncle introduced her to the great Zhong Yao -- years later, when she too was a great calligrapher, people described her calligraphy as graceful, but as timorous as a young bond girl performing her first dance.

Wang Xizhi [303-361 CE]

Wang Xizhi, official of the Jin dynasty -- the greatest calligrapher who ever lived. Or at least the greatest writer of Walking Style in history, and certainly a rich source of legend and story, even for calligraphers today. My favourite tale is how he used to get an inky face by chewing on his brush instead of his favourite biscuits. It strikes a chord, because of the time I wiped my eye with an inky finger, gave myself "eyeshadow" or asymmetrical eyebags, and then unwittingly went out to MPH bookstore!

Some personal history. His teacher, Madam Wei Shuo (whose teacher had been Zhong Yao, the inventor of Regular Style). His son, Wang Xianzhi.

And his wife, the fair unknown, daughter of a great minister, Xi Jian. Wang Xizhi is the reason why son-in-laws are still be called , or "east couch", and when you congratulate your friend on a good son-in-law you say , "good thing you chose the son-in-law on the east couch". Xi Jian wanted the very best for his daughter. Wang Xizhi's cousins wanted to impress him, because he was powerful, and the lady was beautiful. The best manners and clothes were on display when Xi Jian came visiting. Xi Jian, however, picked Wang Xizhi because our hero obviously couldn't care less -- that hot day, he was lying in the east study, half-stripped for coolness, practicing calligraphy in the air with his favourite biscuits, munching and waving his legs.

I wouldn't recommend prospective son-in-laws out there to try this approach -- but the marriage was prompt and highly succcessful.

A particularly endearing trait of Wang Xizhi's was his devotion to geese. I kid you not, geese. Geese roamed about his house, once swallowing a treasured pair of pinkish-grey pearls; they inspired his one-stroke "goose" ideograph; he wrote the Huang Ting Jing to buy some enchanting geese from a little temple with a shrewd negotiator of an abbot. If you see a painting/sculpture of a scholarly man clasping a shapely duck, now you know who it is!

Wang Xizhi's most famous work is the Orchid Pavilion Essay. This was dashed off one afternoon, amidst poetical, happy, tipsy friends on a jaunt. It has virtually become the stuff of legend among calligraphers. Professor Pei houses the calligraphy of the Orchid Pavilion Essay on his site. Try reading Dr Siu-Leung Lee's commentary on the Lanting Xu (that's how you pronounce it!) too. I'd love to elaborate on the adventures of this brilliant work and its clones here, but that would take a page on its own.

Wang Xizhi's legacy has been invaluable in Walking Style (or cursive). He believed you should write a character just a little differently every time it appeared in an essay, to add interest; and should hold your brush so tightly that your father couldn't sneak up behind you and snatch it (yes, he tried that on his son and failed) but should leave enough loose space in the palm for an egg to fit.

Stories collect around Wang Xizhi like calligraphy ink on my white T-shirts. An account of just the popular stories about him would fill several webpages. All I can say about his calligraphy is that it has the rhythm and grace of running water, and yet retains the strength and vigour of a dragon. (penetrates wood 3 millimetres) is a proverb invented just to describe its forcefulness. It originates from the time Wang Xizhi wrote some calligraphy for a student on a brand-new table. The student's incensed father tried to shave it off before the student found out and raised an anguished protest. However, the calligraphy had penetrated so deep that the student managed to salvage some of it. Great calligraphers such as Zhao Mengfu and the Zhiyong Heshang (monk), not to mention his own son, Wang Xianzhi, have taken great pride in successfully imitating Wang Xizhi's work.

Intro ~ Styles ~ People ~ Snippets ~ My Work ~ Other Sites This page hosted by GEOCITIES Comments? Tell E-Ching at e-ching@oocities.com!

Brahm's Hungarian Dance No. 2