Inspired Copyists

There was a time when the great Siamese Kings who ruled in what is now Thailand waged war for an extraordinary purpose: to capture as many artists and artisans as possible. The conquerors rarely sought glory for themselves, nor did they want their artists to produce anything novel. The art of few nations has been as changeless as that of Thailand, and yet each century has managed to seem as fresh as the last.

Last week, under the guidance of Prince Subha-dradis Diskul, curator of the National Museum in Bangkok, Manhattan's Metropolitan Museum was setting up the first major exhibition of the art of Thailand ever to come to the

U.S. Transported by the U.S. Navy, the exhibit opened two months ago at the University of Indiana, which has a thriving teacher and student exchange program with Thailand. When it leaves the Met in February, the show will go on to Boston, Toledo, Los Angeles, Seattle, San Francisco and Honolulu in the U.S. before getting back home.

Rings & Reminders. Some of the art is newly excavated--and was barely saved from vandals. Two years ago, the government learned that a gang of thieves had been looting a 15th century crypt at the former Thailand capital of Ayudhya. The thieves had already melted down about 40% of the gold objects, but the government was able to rescue hundreds of rings, jeweled swords, wrist bands, fragile animal motifs of hammered gold. Experts guess that there may be scores more of such crypt treasures across the nation: only four months ago, a cache of 16th and 17th century crystal was found by workers excavating a dam.

But the dominant theme of the exhibit is Buddha, for the art of Thailand grew out of a yearning for new ways to worship him. After Buddha died in the 5th century B.C., his bodily relics were divided and divided again, but there were never enough to supply all the stupas (Buddhist shrines) in the land. As a result, the faithful constructed a hierarchy of lesser deities (Bodhisattvas) to worship, as well as an elaborate system of "reminders" of the sage himself. A reminder could be a stupa that possessed no relics but was a replica of one that did. There were also small clay tablets that recalled the sites of the four Great Events in Buddha's life--Kapilavastu, where he was born; Bodh Gaya, where he attained enlightenment under the Bo tree; Sarnath, where he "set the Wheel of Doctrine spinning"; and Kusinagara, where he died. For a long time the Buddhists considered it unthinkable that anyone should reproduce the figure of Buddha himself.

Tree into Body. The earliest tablets showed only symbols of the sage: his footprint on a mountainside, the great Bo tree, or the wheel. Gradually, the footprints grew into feet, the tree into a body. The artists never used a human model. Instead, each artist studied existing statues or paintings, and when he had the image firmly in mind, he would produce a work of his own. Though the art of Thailand has in a sense been a perpetual act of copying, the finest artists could not help leaving their personal stamp.

Because of Thailand's humid climate, few paintings have survived, but the sculpture is more than sufficient to show the paradoxical versatility of Thailand's artists. The bronze Bodhisattva (see color) is a masterpiece of intricate workmanship; the lithe little dancing figure, who was meant both to protect and entertain Buddha, bends solemnly to the tinkle of music. The Buddhas that the artists made usually hewed to a perfect blending of art and tradition. Buddha's legs, tradition said, were to be like those of a deer, his thighs like the stems of banana trees, his hands like opening lotus flowers. The body as a whole was to have the absolute peace of nirvana -- and the fiery energy of flame.

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