COLOSSAL BRONZE IMAGE OF A BODHISATWA
(South Kensington Museum)
But a still more astonishing development was yet to come in the colossal bronzes, which exceed in size any other pieces of casting the world has seen. The largest of all, a seated Buddha, is at Nara, and, no less than fifty-three feet in height, is the greatest bronze statue that has ever been cast. A figure of great dignity, it has, however, suffered much by the lapse of years. The head was damaged by an earthquake in 855 A.D., and later by a fire, and was finally replaced by another in the sixteenth century. Much finer as a work of art, though slightly smaller, being forty-nine feet seven inches in height, is the Daibutsu, or Great Buddha, at Kamakura, which is considerably later in date, the best judges placing it at 1252. The seated figure, with hands folded in contemplation, is of almost oppressive dignity and power. The modelling is simple and severe, the drapery hangs in large ample folds, and the face bears an expression of profound and majestic calm. In the history of art we have met such an expression before; there is something akin to it in the strange, inscrutable smile of the Sphinx. But the calm of the Buddha has a deeper and more spiritual quality: it is the calm of perfect knowledge; it speaks of the conquest of human passions and a spiritual peace elevated far above all earthly things.
The statue was originally surrounded by a building fifty yards square, the roof supported by sixty-three massive pillars; but this shelter was swept away by a tidal wave in 1369, and again in 1494. Since the latter date it has not been rebuilt, though the stone foundations may still be seen. In the rather irreverent phrase of the Japanese, the Daibutsu has become a “wet god.”
The process of casting these colossal bronzes is not known in detail. In all probability a full-sized model was first built up, and from it the mould made in several pieces. The Kamakura Daibutsu is formed of sheets of bronze, each cast separately, then brazed together, and finished on the outside with the chisel.
With the decline of this old Buddhist work in bronze appeared another phase of the sculptor’s art, which continued to a much later date, and exhibited a different side of the national character. I refer to the grotesque figures of gods or demons which are so characteristic of early Japanese carving. These vary in size from a few inches to between twenty and thirty feet in height, and are chiefly executed in wood, several pieces being joined together in the larger works.
The most famous exponent of the school was Unkei, who lived at the end of the twelfth, and beginning of the thirteenth century. At the gateway of the temple of To-Dai-ji at Nara stood a pair of Nio, or Temple Guardians—huge figures of sinister aspect and terrific power, hewn out of wood—the one by Unkei, the other by Kwaikei, his contemporary. It is said that after Unkei’s death the king of the nether world objected that, whereas the sculptor had many times endeavoured to depict him, he had never succeeded in doing him justice. Accordingly, Unkei was sent back to the earth that, having seen the god himself, he might carve his portrait faithfully.
Though on a small scale, only standing two and a half feet high, a pair of little wooden demons by Koben, the third son of Unkei, exhibit the same grotesqueness, combined with an almost terrible power. The masterly representation of the straining muscles shows clearly that the Japanese artist could model the human figure realistically when he pleased, and that when he conventionalised he did so knowingly, and for a given purpose, as has been the custom of the decorative artist from time immemorial.
The third phase, which marks the early sculptures, is the series of portrait statues, chiefly carved in wood, and it is curious to know that most of these extremely realistic studies were executed during the highly idealistic Buddhist period. The statues of two saints, for instance, Asanga and Vasubandhu, in Kofukuji, which are said to date from the eighth century, are absolutely realistic in style. The drapery certainly is treated in a broad and simple manner, but the face and expression is obviously a portrait, a study of an individual. Many of these portraits exist, dating chiefly from the eighth to about the thirteenth century, and are all strong and characteristic presentments of actual men—speaking likenesses.