Wang Family Lineage

Wang Xingru 􀺦􀾒􀳀 (b. 1922) is a seventh generation lineage holder in a long

line of professional designers or huashi, as they are locally known.181 As a family trained

in print design, the Wang painters specialized in figure paintings of popular deities

executed with fine brushwork and detail, a type of painting referred to as gongbi hua 􀛽􀐳

􀟂. They were seen as ritual experts familiar with local religious practices and existing

traditions of visual iconography. They make sculptures, architectural designs, coffins,

prints, paintings, and murals. With the support of their long-standing lineage, the Wang

181 The term huashi is broadly used for those who design the original paintings for reproduction as prints.

These designers are usually literate or semi-literate and live in urban areas.

designers contributed creatively to these traditions by bringing to each project their

distinct repertoire of designs.182

The following discussions are based on a group conversation with Wang during

the summer of 2006. I was accompanied by Liu Zhumei, my mentor, and Ning Zhiqi 􀭡􁆽

􀰅, a historian and director at Mianzhu’s Cultural Relics Bureau. Both Liu and Ning were

well acquainted with Wang, who had collaborated with them on past research projects

concerning nianhua history. The discussions were conducted in the local dialect, with Liu

and Ning translating obscure terms into Mandarin when necessary.

It is significant that Wang chose to share his lineage documents before taking out

his many sketches and scroll paintings. In doing so, he first establishes the authority of

his lineage-holding status, providing an appropriate social context for the viewing of his

own painted works. From the onset of the conversation, Wang took a lead in presenting

the information and guiding the discussion. It was immediately evident that he was

experienced in sharing his workshop’s history with visiting scholars and officials. Wang

brought out a wooden box that was fully packed with various lineage documents,

however he chose only a few items for us to document and photograph (fig.28).

According to Wang, these rare documents were kept safe during the Cultural Revolution

because his father Wang Tianbao 􀺦􀸿􀐌 (1885-1971) took great risks to protect them and

managed to bury them in a secret location. Wang Xingru was able to retrieve his father’s

precious documents only after the nianhua revival got underway in the late 1970s. Many

182 Local archives list many names for the family lineages of professional huashi designers, including the

Ma, Zhang, He, and Wang families. For a partial list of these lineages including the names of individual

designers, see Liu Zhumei 􀨾􁇰􀪼 and Ning Zhiqi 􀭡􁆽􀰅, “Mianzhu nianhua huashi ji yishu chengjiu" 􀫥􁇰

􀭍􀟂􀟂􀴽􀠣􁁜􀶌��􀣼􀊦The huashi designers of Mianzhu nianhua and their artistic achievement] in

Zhongguo Mianzhu nianhua 􁇏􀝓􀫥􁇰􀭍􀟂􀀼China’s Mianzhu nianhua], ed. Yu Jundao 􁂿􀤮􀖡􀀁(Beijing:

Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 2007), 103-113.

of the older works were in a state of serious decay, as worms had started eating through

the documents while they were underground.

The first work he showed us is his copy of the family’s geneaology chart, a traced

copy that is composed like an unbound book, with a front and back cover and seven loose

pages in the middle bearing diagrams of the family lines. The writings on the front cover

are particularly significant here because they demonstrate the intimate link between a

patrilineal bloodline and a profession (fig. 29). The center of the front cover foregrounds

the family name and bears the four large characters: “Wang family genealogy chart” 􀺦􀵦

􁈷􀯶. The back cover reads, “May the Wang family school flourish forever” 􀺦􀵦􀏫􀮊􀀍􀰤

􀜞􀩀􀙙. Here, the first four characters name the lineage as the “Wang family school,”

where the kinship term for “clan name” (shi 􀵦) is combined with the term for

“professional school” (bangpai 􀏺􀮊).

In the center of the front cover, on either side of the family name, a pair of

antithetical couplets references the central importance of the family profession: “Because

it is so difficult to establish a profession, keep in mind the work of your ancestors. To

sustain one’s acheivements is not easy, thus future generations should be warned.” 􀵯􀓴

􀒂􁁞􀢵􀘸􀷤��􀀁􀔷􁀼􂆒􀡛􀶱􁉃􁃹. This couplet is flanked on either side by another set of

couplets that call for ritual offerings to be made to the ancestors, in honor of their

achievements: “May the virtuous achievements and honorable names of our ancestors

flow forth for hundreds of generations. Through spring frost and autumn dew, may they

receive sincere offerings for thousands of years.” 􁉃􀖣􁈷􀛿􀙙􀩀􀏤􀕽􀀍􀀁􀔽􀶟􀱬􀩝􁧹􁱦􀰤􀭍.

The top of the genealogy chart cover has a set of horizontally inscribed verses that read:

“With sacrificial offerings of fragrant foods, may the ancestors be honored with care and

devotion” 􄃇􁧹􁆕􁹴􀀍􀀁􀴰􁇑􁈔􁃹.

These couplets directly link the preservation of ancestral memory to sustaining a

form of livelihood. The center couplets repel the portentous by warning future

generations against the difficulties of sustaining the family profession. The flanking

couplets attract the auspicious by announcing the virtue and longevity of the lineage.

Ancestral virtue is characterized as “flowing” 􀩀 through the generations, like a river or

stream.183 The arrangement of the couplets on the genealogy cover mirrors the spring

couplets placed around his studio entrance, reinforcing the efficacious power of the

genealogy chart (fig 30). Like spring couplets protecting the entrance to a family’s abode,

these inscribed couplets appear to protect the names listed in the genealogy chart. The

written names of ancestors carry a powerful living presence in the context of lineage

documents. This is most evident in the ancestral tablet placed on the Wang family altar,

which bears the names of his forefathers (fig. 31). This tablet, which is placed next to a

photo of Wang’s father, occupies the center of the altar where the Wang family members

place regular offerings of food, drink, and incense. The altar itself is located in a

prominent place in the center back wall of Wang’s painting studio, on a tall cabinet. This

spatial arrangement joins the ancestral shrine with the work area in such a way that the

ancestors appear to be keeping watch over the room, and over the survival of the family

profession.

183 Keeping with the imagery of flowing water, a double meaning for “school” 􀮊􀀁is a river’s “tributary.”

Like tributaries carving new paths to expand the reaches of the river, so do the lines on the genealogy chart

expand and fan out in complex and unpredictable patterns. This metaphor supports an understanding of

lineage as connected to a common source yet also diverse and evolving in its continuity.

Keeping with their family traditions, Wang received a version of the chart from

his father and made a copy of it by placing tracing paper over the original and

reinscribing the characters by hand with a brush. Each inside page represents a single

generation 􀵗, which are numbered at the top of each page, followed by the names of the

parents of that generation of offspring (fig. 32). 184 While the names of female family

members are included, the lines of descent are only continued through the male offspring.

When multiple sons appear in the same generation, each son would receive a set of

lineage documents at the father’s discretion. Upon copying the chart, Wang added the

name of his youngest brother’s only son, the only male in his generation and the last

name to appear on the chart. Ritually traced by each lineage holder, the transmission of

the chart is considered an auspicious activity that must be continually performed in order

to maintain the family profession and to “sustain one’s achievements” for all future

generations.

The close relationship between the copied mark and genealogical transmission has

been long recognized by scholars of Chinese painting history. Chinese art historian Wen

Fong, in his discussion of Chinese literati painting and calligraphy, has noted: “The

artistic process of replication parallels the anthropological concept of genealogy. Just as

one’s mortal body both replaces and transforms that of one’s ancestors, the life and

authority of artistic tradition, through endless replication, can remain forever ancient and

forever new.”185 In this genealogical framework, the “styles of the canonical masters, as

transmitted through tracing copies and replicas, may thus be considered a kind of DNA

184 The names of all the siblings in the same generation share a common character after their last name. The

names of the wives for each son in the family are included but not the names of the daughter’s husbands,

reflecting the understanding that daughters were married out of the family while the sons bring their wives

into the family.

185 Wen C. Fong, “Why Chinese Painting Is History,” The Art Bulletin 85, no. 2 (June, 2003): 262.

imprint from which all subsequent idioms emerge.”186 Although Wen Fong is referencing

elite literati traditions, the genealogical dimension of the copied mark also carries a

powerful currency in Mianzhu nianhua. In Mianzhu, the painting term linmo 􀨢􀬄 is

loosely used today to reference tracing or “side be side” freehand copying. As I will show

below, this term is flexible in meaning and does not refer strictly to an exact copy;

instead it often carries with it connotations of genealogical transmission and revelation.

This is evident in a set of paintings completed by Wang Xingru’s grandfather

Wang Zhengfa 􀺦􁆞􀘿 (1865-1929), who traced by hand a complete set of a Qing dynasty

version of Gengzhitu 􀛶􁆮􀹭 or “Plowing and Weaving Pictures.” In copying this

prestigious set of prints that was nationally circulated by Emperor Kangxi in 1696, Wang

Zhengfa accomplishes two key tasks. First, he appropriates the visual language of

royalty, authority, and moral virtue, resituating these values within the context of the

Wang family lineage. Secondly, he uses this as a vehicle to display his own embodied

mastery of the brush, a vital skill that is transmitted from generation to generation within

the family line.

Inspired by an earlier set of “Plowing and Weaving Pictures” from the Song

period, Kangxi began distributing his own commissioned version of the prints as a form

of state propaganda. The pictures were designed to boost the emperor’s public image as a

benevolent Confucian ruler despite his Manchu heritage.187 Kangxi’s prints bear idealized

scenes of rural families working diligently to support the nation with agriculture and silk

weaving as encouraged by the court. Each scene is accompanied by Kangxi’s own poems

186 Fong, 262. The major terms for copying in Chinese painting reveal a broad spectrum of approaches: lin

􀨢, mo 􀬄, fang 􀙟, ni 􀭅, fenben 􀙸􀐧, and beilin 􀐜􀨢.

187For a complete reproduction and description of the forty-six “Plowing and Weaving Pictures” circulated

by Kangxi, see Wang Chaosheng 􀺦􀓖􀴳, Zhongguo gudai gengzhitu 􁇏􀝓􀜞􀕽􀛶􁆮􀹭􀀁[Plowing and

weaving pictures of ancient China] (Beijing: Zhongguo nongye chubanshe, 1995).

that exhort Confucian virtues among the common populace, such as filial piety, frugality,

and hard work. By the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, different popularized

versions of “Plowing and Weaving Pictures” were circulated in regional print centers as

ritually efficacious images to attract bountiful harvest, prosperity, and social harmony.188

In Mianzhu, Wang Zhengfa’s decision to copy the Kangxi version may reflect its

local status as the most “traditional” or “classic” model of plowing and weaving pictures.

By resituating these auspicious prints in the context of his family lineage, Wang Zhengfa

expands the workshop’s repertoire of images while appropriating the prints’ status and

prestige. As an interesting parallel to this, a pair of antithetical phrases on the back cover

of the Wang genealogy chart calls for the blessings of the state to support the family

profession: “A riteous nation is harmoniously ordered like the stars in the sky, may

upright officials bring us peace. True wealth and honor are as precious as jade; may every

generation prosper” 􀝓􁆞􀸿􀾒􀶨􀀍􀀁􀜲􀱢􀫼􁈱􀎽􀀍􀀁􁃖􀵆􁆇􀚶􀝌􀀍􀀁􀵗􀕽􁂥􀓄􀩈 (fig. 33).

In contrast to the carvers, printers, and those trained in the final stages of coloring

and painting, nianhua designers are primarily recognized for their ability to design and

paint many different kinds of ritually efficacious images. In this context, Wang Zhengfa’s

“Plowing and Weaving Pictures” can be understood as a display of his mastery of the

brush in both painting and calligraphy. In particular, it showcases his ability to paint a

wide range of figures, including men, women, and children engaged in many different

activities of daily life and labor. As Wang Xingru explains, their family lineage

specializes in figural painting: “We specialized in painting figures, which in the past were

called gongbi pictures. We painted deities for home altars, such as the deity of the home,

188 For this study, I consulted a complete painted version of the Kangxi “Plowing and Weaving Pictures”

held in the Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, Canada, with forty-six leaves of paintings in two albums.

These works are dated to the late eighteenth century or later.

Guanyin, Zhongkui, the Wealth Deity, the Eight Immortals, the Sixteen Arhats, Eighteen

Lohans, and the Twenty Four Filial Acts.”189

Wang’s grandfather painstakingly rendered the complete set of 46 prints of

Kangxi’s “Plowing and Weaving Pictures” into a set of paintings by laying thin paper

over the prints then copying the lines with brush and ink. In contrast to the original prints,

Wang’s painted copy bears the delicate nuances of Wang’s energetic brushwork. If one

compares a scene from Kangxi’s prints to Wang’s version, it is possible to see how the

brushwork comes to the fore in Wang’s copy. In Kangxi’s version, the last scene in a

series of plowing images depicts a family making sacrificial offerings to the deity of

agriculture (fig. 34). It is a hand colored woodblock print reproduced after a painting by

Jiao Bingzhen 􀢊􀑥􁆋, who was commissioned by Kangxi to design the entire set. Not

shown in this image are Kangxi’s calligraphic verses added to the top of the page. In

Wang Zhengfa’s traced version of this same scene, the calligraphy along the top is also

absent although the calligraphy inside the frame of the picture is faithfully reproduced

(fig. 35). It is not clear whether the version he was tracing included the calligraphy.

In contrast to the Kangxi version, Wang’s copy only includes the outlines of the

image, leaving out the shading and the coloring. Wang’s hand painted lines stand out

against the background, with each brushstroke visible on the surface of the delicate paper.

In comparing the minute details of the altar, straw roofing, and fencing, Wang’s version

bears fewer lines to mark out a textured surface in an abbreviated manner. The short grass

and vines growing at the edges of the walls are only indicated by a few dots, delineating

the compositional space these details would occupy if one were to paint them in with

color. It is possible that these works were painted as designs to be carved into

189 Wang Xingru in discussion with the author, Mianzhu, Sichuan, June 2006.

woodblocks, although the lengthy collection of 46 images would have made this a very

expensive and laborious task. It is more likely that Wang’s painted version served as a

painting model, to be reproduced as paintings within the family workshop. Passed down

through the family and copied by each lineage holder, the work becomes a vehicle for

transmitting and performing the embodied mastery of the brush.

Copying lineage paintings is thus a means of attaining certain skills and

displaying one’s accomplishment. According to Wang, his father decided to train him in

the family profession instead of sending him to school:

I learned the art at the age of eleven. It wasn’t possible for my family to continue

my education, and my father had a lot of work to do. There were often people

coming over to rush him in his work, there was so much work and not enough

people to do it. So he asked me to start working. That’s how I learned to

paint.190

Thus instead of attending school, Wang learned how to read from his grandfather, who

was going blind at the time: “When I was learning to paint, his eyes could no longer see.

If I didn’t recognize a character, I’d write it on the palm of his hand with my finger. Then

he’d tell me how to read the character. ”191 Sparked by our viewing of his grandfather’s

painting, Wang’s recollected memories reveal how he learned to read and write by

copying characters onto his grandfather’s palm. This intimate act speaks to the

significance of copying in ways that are not recorded on paper but only in memory. These

forms of copying are as important as the ones that leave physical traces and speak to a

kind of on-going transmission of knowledge through touch and observation.

190 Ibid.

191 Ibid.

Scholars of Chinese art and drama have emphasized certain difference between

the Chinese concept of mo 􀬄 (usually translated as “imitate” or “copy”) and the Western

notion of mimesis, which is usually associated with a likeness or semblance in outward

form. In his study of mo in Chinese drama, Chen has noted, “To understand the Chinese

concept of mo, one must also understand the Chinese concept of aesthetic truth,

especially theatrical truth. Revealed in all major traditional Chinese arts, such as painting

and drama, is the idea that aesthetic truth is not empirical. Rather, truth lies beyond mere

superficial likeness.”192 Citing drama critics from the Yuan dynasty to present day, Chen

argues that mo is “closer in meaning to the words ‘revelation’ or ‘display’ than to

‘imitation’ or ‘duplication.’”193 Chen’s retranslation here sheds light on the Wang

family’s “Plowing and Weaving Pictures,” which are not simply replicas of Kangxi’s

prints but transformed copies that also reveal and display the genealogical marks of the

family lineage.

In examining the Wang family genealogy chart and lineage paintings, it is

possible to see a complex form of shared authorship that is continually shaped by each

lineage holder. Wang Xingru situates his own works within a collection of works

produced by his forefathers, thus lending authority to his own paintings as transmissions

of a living lineage. Wang Xingru’s brushwork simultaneously bears the mark of his

ancestors as well as his own. It is possible to understand the Wang family paintings as

produced by the individual as well as the lineage since these two categories are mutually

inclusive rather than exclusive. This point challenges the idea that a collectively produced

work takes creative agency out of the hands of the individual artisan by pointing to a

192 Jingsong Chen, “To Make People Happy, Drama Imitates Joy: The Chinese Theatrical Concept of Mo,”

Asian Theater Journal 4, no. 1 (1997), 43.

193 Ibid., 40.

conceptual framework that simultaneously embraces individual and multiple authors. It

should be kept in mind that the “individuation” of knowledge as described by Foucault in

his famous essay “What is an Author?” did not develop in China to the same degree as it

did throughout the history of modern Europe.194 In the context of a painting lineage, the

creative process is not necessarily bounded by an individual “creator” but may be

considered part of genealogical continuum. In the case of nianhua, it is the authority and

supporting context of the shared lineage that supports an individual’s creative

contributions to the profession. As Wang’s paintings show, the copied mark straddles

continuity and change as variations are creatively exploited. In the words of Wen Fong,

these traces are “forever ancient and forever new.”195

Wang’s lineage box also contains sketches from his ancestors, however the ones

he showed us were his own contributions to the collection. Drawing out a thick stack of

small-scale sketches, Wang laid out on the table various religious motifs, intricate

patterns, auspicious creatures, cloud designs, rebuses, and written characters. Many of

these sketches had written notes on them, such as notations on color, size proportions,

and explanatory comments on the ritual significance of specific details (fig. 36). These

sketches serve as a visual compendium of design concepts for producing ritually

efficacious objects, including prints, paintings, sculptures, architectural components,

temple murals, and coffins. Accrued over many generations, the sketches betray the

profound wealth of ritual knowledge maintained in the family profession. They also

illustrate how certain designs could be used in different configurations and in different

media, generating a virtually limitless range of possibilities for the designer to explore.

194 Michel Foucault, “What Is an Author,” in Foucault Reader, ed. Paul Rabinow (New York: Pantheon

Books, 1970).

195 Fong, “Why Chinese Painting is History,” 262.

For instance, in a scroll painting known as Double Longevity 􀶠􀵰, auspicious patterns

from Wang’s sketches are incorporated into many aspects of the image (fig. 37). The

painting, which depicts a pair of male and female longevity deities, is designed to be a

birthday gift to be given to an elder. According to Wang, this painting is an appropriate

gift to present to one’s parents in their older age. Both deities are depicted only if both the

mother and father are alive, otherwise only the female deity is presented to the mother or

the male deity to the father. The female goddess of longevity and the protector of elderly

women is the immortal Magu 􀪐􀜜, who is often distinguished by her youthful

appearance, long nails, and her basket of gourds, fruits, and flowers swung over her

shoulder on a pole. Her child attendant carries two peaches of immortality in a basket on

his back. Standing beside them is the god of longevity, Shouxing 􀵰􀾒 or Nanji Shouxing

􀬲􀠞􀵰􀾒, who carries a knotted staff with a gourd that contains life-sustaining water and

in the other hand, a blessed citron fruit known as a Buddha’s hand 􀚍􀵭. All three figures

are bearing gifts of health and long life, reinforcing the painting’s intended function as a

birthday gift.

Wang incorporates a range of ritually efficacious patterns into the figures’

clothing to bolster the power of the painting to ensure longevity. Wang added these

patterns to Magu’s robe, which is covered with images of fecundity in the form of

flowers, vines, and leaves. Her basket is also transformed into an auspicious object with

the addition of a longevity sign that appears woven into its structure. Similarly, her young

attendant’s robes are covered in flowers. The Shouxing figure is appropriately adorned

with longevity signs on his robe, patterns that are more flatly imposed onto the figure.

These patterns enhance the ritual efficacy of the painting while dressing these well113

known figures in the unique marks of the Wang family workshop. The patterns also bear

strong resemblance to the stamped designs found in many of Mianzhu’s historic door

deity prints, suggesting a process of cross-referencing between printing and painting

techniques.

In examining Wang’s sketches and lineage documents alongside his finished

works, it is possible to see how copying from an existing repertoire of patterns, designs,

and auspicious imagery allows for many variations to emerge in different media. Wang’s

thick stack of sketches is a visual library of efficacious signs that is an efficient way to

create a range of ritual goods imprinted with the distinct marks of one’s workshop. As the

Wang family works permeate public spaces in the form of murals, sculptures, and

architectural designs, their designs become readily recognizable in the community. It is

no wonder that the copying is considered an auspicious act in itself, as it serves a very

practical function of distributing a distinct lineage identity while attracting recognition

and prosperity to the family workshop.196

Historically, Mianzhu’s nianhua worshops have much at stake in developing

unique lineage identities and recognizable repertoires of printed works. According to the

archived records of the early twentieth-century print trade, door deity guilds fiercely

guarded their trade secrets and production methods.197 They were aware of regional

competitors and sought to brand their products with certain visible characteristics in order

196 The use of preparatory sketches, drawings, and copying methods in painting workshops has a long

history in China. For a more detailed study on this topic, see Sarah Fraser’s study of the ninth and tenth

century preparatory sketches found in the Dunhuang caves: Sarah Fraser, Performing the Visual: The

Practice of Buddhist Wall Painting in China and Central Asia, 618-960 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University

Press, 2004). Also see Qing Pan, “Creativity Within Copying: A Comparative Study of Copying as a Way

of Learning in Euro-American Painting and Chinese Painting Traditions” (PhD dissertation, Columbia

University, New York, 2007).

197 For a discussion of Mianzhu’s trade guild practices see Feng, “Historical accounts of Mianzhu's trade

associations,” 112-119.

to trade them at a higher value in the regional print markets.198 On a smaller scale,

different workshops within Mianzhu also strived for prestige by mastering certain skills

within the constraints of the guild rules, knowledge that was carefully guarded and

transmitted through family lineages. Individual workshops and even individual artisans

would thus occupy the vanguard of particular aspects of print production, competing for

status in the industry in ingenious ways. Although many print formats or designs

remained stable over time, the methods of production reflect great diversity and

experimentation. Today, these ritual strategies are still vital components of how lineageholding

workshops engage the marketplace.

While Wang Xingru claims his place in a multigenerational lineage of nianhua

designers living in Mianzhu’s urban center, the Chen and Li workshops are newly formed

lineages that emerged after the Cultural Revolution in Mianzhu’s rural outskirts. In

contrast to Wang, the Chen and Li workshops do not have lineage documents to draw on.

Their situation reflects unique strategies of adaptation, where they reconstruct their

workshop lineage identities by copying historic nianhua works. Chen and Li refer to their

lineages as pai 􀮊, a term used for painting schools comprised of both kin and nonkin

members. While Chen Xingcai claims to be the head of the “Southern School” (nanpai 􀬲

􀮊), Li Fangfu claims lineage in the “Northern School” (beipai 􀐚􀮊). I will now draw on

interviews conducted with members of both schools to show how the process of copying

plays into the territorial politics of lineage discourse to further boost the status of the

workshops.

198 These characteristics include the production of thick, high quality paper known as fenjianzhi 􀙸􀡖􁆼 and

the use of gold or silver leaf applied by either brush or small stamps. According to Li Fangfu, an elder

nianhua maker, the door deity guild enforced certain practices to maintain the quality of works produced in

their workshops. Inspectors would visit the workshops in search of works that did not meet the proper

standards. Works that failed the inspection would be burnt.

The Northern School of Mianzhu Nianhua