BIBLIOGRAPHY

Testa colossale del Buddha.

Preparazione a “Buon fresco “ su tavola intelaiata.

Cm.130 x 160.

2004

The earliest figurative representations of “Buddhist” art appear in the bas-reliefs of the railings that surrounded the stupas of Bodh Gaya and Bharhut.

Of the first we know that it was built in a period very close to that of Ashoka.

The railing of the Bharhut stupa was erected by a prince named Vatsi-putra Dhanabuthi of the Sunga dynasty; it was therefore built at a later time than Ashoka’s. About one hundred bas-reliefs are carved on the stones of this railing, and the names of the depicted figures as well as the title of the legend or Jataka are also inscribed.

Another major testimony of “early Buddhism” is found in the bas-reliefs on the toranas (gateways) of the enclosure of the Great Stupa at Sanchi, built at the time of Ashoka, around 250 BC. The construction of the enclosure and the toranas required more time; an inscription on the southern gateway states that it was erected during the reign of King Satakarni around 155 BC.

The upper part of the railing at Bodh Gaya is ornamented on its inner faces with long rows of elephants, deer, makaras, and other animals, and on the outer faces with garlands of flowers. In the bas-reliefs of Bharhut and Sanchi we find a detailed documentation—rendered with truly convincing realism—of the customs and daily life of India at that time.

The distinctive feature of these representations of “early Buddhism” is the absence of the figure of the Buddha. One who has been freed from “name and form” cannot be represented; the presence of the Enlightened One can only be testified through symbolic forms. In one scene Ajatasatru—the king during whose reign the Buddha attained Nirvana—bows before an altar upon which the footprints of the Master are impressed: a way of affirming—literally—one’s determination to follow in his footsteps. In the scene in which Siddhattha leaves his home, we see the faithful servant Channa and the Devas lifting the horse Kanthaka so that no sound is produced by its hooves; on the horse’s back no man is depicted, but only the parasol of authority. At Sanchi, the most frequent representation is the Buddha in the form of a tree; and in one bas-relief an inscription reminds us that it is the Bodhi tree of Sakyamuni.

The anthropomorphic representation of the Buddha begins in the first half of the 1st century BC, when the Theravada tradition starts to fade and Mahayana begins to flourish. With the advent of this new tradition, the intellectual discipline achieved through the practice of Vipassana—which had characterized the Dhamma and formed the core of the early disciples’ speculation—begins to dissolve in favor of a spirit of devotion expressed in the creation of a cult. The deeply human need for divinities able to bestow compassion upon all who seek their help lies at the origin of the cult of personified deities—humanizing the divine.

It is an idea that has remained alive over time. André Gide, in his diary (1939–1942), wrote on June 14, 1940: “We are inexorably sunk into matter, and even our spiritual loves cannot do without a material representation. The vision of the image favors and sustains our ecstasy, which, without the material support of a sensible sign, would be exhausted in itself. We need symbolic images, statues, and monuments in order to offer feeling something tangible, resting points, so that what takes flight from our heart may be fixed—yet could not remain there for long.”

The earliest statues depict the Buddha seated in meditation; certainly correct mental discipline—Samma Samadhi—the foundation of the introspective process through which one learns to develop equanimity—Upekkha—practiced seated and with closed eyes, underlies the visible icon of He who has perfectly understood the elements of existence.

From an iconographic point of view, the seated figure of the Buddha takes three fundamental forms:

The first is that of Samma Samadhi, with closed eyes and hands in Dhyana mudra, crossed in the lap with palms facing upward.

The second has open eyes and the right hand resting on the knee, fingers pointing downward to touch the ground; it is known as Bhumisparsa mudra, “the gesture of calling the earth to witness,” the gesture by which Mara and his temptations are definitively dispelled before attaining enlightenment beneath the Bodhi tree at Bodh Gaya.

The third, with the hands held before the chest in Dhammacakra mudra, “the gesture of turning the wheel of the law,” indicates the act of teaching.

The characteristic posture of standing figures is that of Abhaya mudra, “the gesture that dispels fear,” with the palm of the right hand facing outward and slightly raised, while the left hand holds the edge of the robe.

The reclining posture on one side, with one arm bent under the head and the other extended along the flank, indicates the Buddha in the act of detachment from the earthly world, Mahaparanibbana.

Thirty-four major signs and eighty-four minor ones are traditionally enumerated as distinguishing the Buddha. Among the major signs, one of the most characteristic is the Ushnisha, a protuberance at the crown of the skull which, in Indian physiognomy, marks superior beings. Other features include very elongated earlobes, a symbol of wisdom; intensely blue eyes; golden skin; and flat feet.

As images of the Buddha begin to spread, they are often marked by monumental scale, an expression of the moral greatness of the ideal of Nibbana. One of the earliest examples is the colossal Buddha of Anuradhapura (2nd century AD), which later became one of the prototypes for the spread, across different regions of the East, of monumental statuary such as the Buddhas of Bamiyan in Afghanistan—recently destroyed by the iconoclastic madness of the Taliban—or those of the caves of Yungang in China, and the Great Buddha of Kamakura in Japan.

In 1997 I learned about the project for the Global Pagoda under construction in Bombay to commemorate the return of the Dhamma from Burma to India. Over the last two years I have designed the images for the communication of this project.

In 1998 Corrado Pensa,a professor and scolar of indian and Buddhist culture, expressed the wish to have an image of the Buddha for the Rome center; and, observing how artists over time had given this image a likeness resembling the inhabitants of the countries in which the teaching spread, I found the idea of painting it from a “Western” point of view very interesting.

The image that inspired me is not a monumental statue, but the fragment of a bust 110 cm high depicting the Buddha in meditation while Mucalinda, king of the Nagas, protects him from the fury of the elements with his hood. I was deeply fascinated by the very gentle expression of this statue from the first period of Bayon art, which I saw in an exhibition on Khmer art at Museum Guimet in Paris and later in Angkor Wat.

Darkness, silence, and emptiness are themes of great interest for contemporary art—and darkness, silence, and emptiness are also categories frequented by those who practice Vipassana. Thus was born the idea of these aggregates of matter emerging from a black ground.