Xu Beihong: A Journey Through China’s Artistic Heritage

In the first installment of what will be a two-part feature, we’ll talk about Xu Beihong, a famed Chinese painter and art educator known for blending traditional Chinese ink techniques with Western realism.

Transcript

Xu Beihong: A Journey Through China’s Artistic Heritage

In the first installment of what will be a two-part feature, we’ll talk about Xu Beihong, a famed Chinese painter and art educator known for blending traditional Chinese ink techniques with Western realism.

In 2024, the Chinese Dragon, also referred to as the “loong,” assumes a central role, embodying considerable significance in Chinese mythology as a legendary and auspicious creature. Diverging from their European counterparts, Chinese dragons do not exhale fire; rather, they are frequently linked with water, representing attributes such as business prosperity, bountiful harvests, and robust health.

In the Chinese year of the dragon, people exchange wishes like “龙马精神” (lóng mǎ jīng shén), which is a Chinese idiom that translates to “the spirit of the dragon and the horse.” It refers to a spirit of vigor, vitality, and resilience, often associated with legendary creatures like dragons and powerful horses. This expression is used to describe someone who possesses great energy, strength, and determination to overcome challenges and achieve success.

Furthermore, alongside the rich tapestry of idioms associated with horses, there exists a plethora of artists, notably painters, who have dedicated themselves to depicting these majestic creatures. Among them stands Xu Beihong, a preeminent figure in contemporary Chinese art renowned for his mastery of horse painting.

On July 19, 1895, Xu Beihong, originally named Xu Shoukang, was born into a commoner family in the city of Yixing in east China’s Jiangsu Province. He showed astonishing talent in painting from a young age, learning poetry and calligraphy from his father, Xu Dazhang.

Despite being born into a poor family of educators, Xu Beihong understood the hardships of life early on. His father, a part-time village school teacher who loved painting, initially refused to teach him due to his young age. However, Xu Beihong, inspired by a story he read, secretly learned to draw a tiger, showcasing his natural talent. Recognizing his son’s potential, Xu’s father then encouraged him to copy popular paintings daily, thus marking the beginning of his journey in art.

Each time they painted, Xu’s father would handle the main parts of the painting, while Xu would practice coloring less significant areas. Gradually, Xu was able to become an art teacher at a middle school, teaching students how to paint. However, he knew he still had a long way to go on his artistic journey.

Unfortunately, in 1908, due to consecutive floods in Yixing, the Xu family’s financial situation worsened. At the age of thirteen, Xu Beihong began selling calligraphy and paintings to make a living. He traveled with his father, enduring hardships, and offering services such as writing couplets, making seals, painting landscapes, flowers, birds, and portraits for others. When he was nineteen, tragedy struck as his father fell seriously ill and passed away. To pay off his father’s medical debts, Xu Beihong, as the eldest son, took on the responsibility of supporting his siblings in the face of enormous financial burdens. He had to teach at three schools in the county to support his family. But the heavy pressure didn’t crush his determination to paint. 

In an attempt to raise enough money to study art, he went to Shanghai and submitted a bunch of sketches to sell to the Novel Monthly magazine, but they were rejected outright. Struggling with odd jobs, he saw no hope. Feeling cornered, he couldn’t afford to stay at the temporary lodging anymore due to overdue rent. Facing imminent homelessness and thinking of his deceased father, he unconsciously headed towards the Huangpu River and contemplated ending his life right then and there. Suddenly, he heard a loud shout beside him: “Bookworm, what are you doing!”

Xu turned around to see his newly made friend who brought him back to the dormitory, where they ate and slept together, spending some time. From that moment on, Xu made a decision to change his original name, Xu Shoukang, to Xu Beihong, likening himself to a sorrowful lone goose, determined to cross the vast sky.

Later, he secretly stayed in a casino at night, practicing drawing feverishly during the day. He would sleep on the gambling tables after the customers dispersed around two or three in the morning. Life was tough. While everyone was celebrating the New Year, Xu Beihong, hungry, was coloring a magazine cover. He had forgotten the taste of rice and steamed bread. During that time, when he felt hungry, he would drink a few sips of well water, and his stomach would rumble as he walked. 

By the time he was admitted to Aurora University to study French, he had gone days without food. “Only when one is at the end of one’s tether and can pull oneself out is one not a coward,” Xu Beihong always remembered this phrase left by his father. He entered the school wearing his father’s mourning clothes, tears in his eyes.

But opportunity favors the prepared, and in a stroke of luck, Huang Zhenzhi, a wealthy businessman, saw Xu Beihong’s scroll painting “Snow Scene” and greatly appreciated it, wanting to give the young man a chance. At the same time, Cai Yuanpei, the president of Peking University, and others also noticed the young artist and extended their help. 

Coincidentally, there was a call for portrait works of the ancient sage Cangjie at the time, and Xu’s work was selected. At the age of 22, he was hired as a tutor by the Peking University Painting Research Society. Kang Youwei, a prominent political thinker and reformer in China of the late Qing Dynasty, placed his hopes of transforming traditional Chinese painting on Xu Beihong and told him, “You must go abroad to see others’ paintings!”

Upon hearing about this, Fu Zengxiang, the Director of Education of the Beiyang Government, insisted on arranging for Xu Beihong to study in France, believing it would be a waste not to nurture such talent. It was thought that Xu Beihong’s path as a master artist would be smooth sailing from then on, but the real challenges were just beginning. 

In 1919, shortly after going abroad, amidst the civil war in France, Xu’s sources of income dried up. He often survived on plain water and bread, spending 10 hours a day painting without interruption. He diligently practiced sketching, copied famous ancient paintings, and worked hard on creating both traditional Chinese and oil paintings. He also illustrated books for bookstores and wrote articles to sustain himself.

In the summer of 1921, the Beiyang government suspended the tuition fees for international students due to the turbulent domestic situation. In the midst of poverty and illness, Xu Beihong had to move to Berlin. Due to the post-war inflation in Germany, the deutsche mark was devalued, and the same number of francs could increase in value several times in Germany. Shortly after arriving in Berlin, Xu closely observed paintings including those of Adolph Menzel. He stayed in Berlin for nearly two years, painting more than 10 hours a day in both summer and winter. At that time, he loved Rembrandt’s paintings the most, so he often went to museums to copy them. 

Since childhood, Xu Beihong had loved to depict animals, and in Berlin’s zoos, most fences were semicircular, which made the setting ideal for painters to sketch. Therefore, whenever the weather was sunny and there was no model available, he went to zoos to sketch animals. His favorite one to draw was the lion. Just like drawing horses at the French stud farm, he observed the various postures of lions standing, lying, walking and leaping in a fine manner, and studied the structure of lions carefully. In order to observe the life pattern of lions for a whole day, he wouldn’t even leave to eat meals. Later, as he did with horse paintings, he was able to draw lions in any position from memory, and he went on to create many works with lions as the theme.

In the early spring of 1923, the long-interrupted funds for studying abroad were sent from China again. Xu Beihong immediately returned to Paris to continue his studies. After completing the final exams of art history, art theory, perspective, anatomy and other courses at the Beaux-Arts de Paris with honors, he still did not slacken in his studies and creations. On weekdays, he sometimes painted at school and sometimes copied oil paintings at the Louvre. He became close friends with a number of local artists, with whom he used to meet on weekends to comment on their works or discuss historical topics.

In the impoverished and backward China of the warlord era, China held no significant position in the world, and within certain circles, there were whispers of discrimination. Once, during a gathering of many international students, a foreign student, reeking of alcohol, stood up and said, “Chinese people are stupid and foolish, only fit to be slaves. Even if you send them to heaven for education, they still won’t become talented!” 

Xu Beihong, seated nearby, couldn’t tolerate it. He strode up to the foreign student and said, “Sir, you say Chinese people are incapable? Then, let me represent my homeland, and you represent yours. Let’s compare. When we finish our studies, we’ll see who truly has talent and who is foolish!”

From then on, Xu Beihong doubled his efforts in studying. When he went to major museums in Paris to copy world-famous paintings, he often brought along a loaf of bread and a jug of water. He would stay there for the entire day, not leaving until closing time. Eventually, even the museum administrators softened their stance and allowed him to continue painting a bit longer. 

His oil paintings caused a sensation in the Parisian art world when exhibited. The foreigner who once bet against him saw Xu Beihong’s work and bowed deeply to him, saying, “I admit that Chinese people are very talented. It seems I made a mistake.” Xu Beihong chuckled, patted his shoulder and walked away.

During those years, Xu Beihong’s name had become widely known. Yet, every week, he still visited his teacher, Pascal Dagnan-Bouveret, a French painter and one of the leading members of the naturalist school, to seek guidance. Pascal always encouraged Xu Beihong, saying, “Studying art is a tough journey. Don’t chase after extravagance, and don’t be content with minor achievements.” He urged Xu Beihong to excel in sketching and cultivate the habit of memorization.

Xu Beihong followed Pascal’s advice diligently, and it paid off. His works were eagerly collected by art collectors and selected for exhibitions in France, including masterpieces like “Portrait of a Cat Keeper,” “Groom and Horse,” and “Distant Listening.” In 1927 alone, nine of his works were selected for the French National Art Exhibition, achieving the highest level of achievement for a Chinese artist in Western realistic art techniques.

Well, that’s the end of our first podcast about Xu Beihong, and we’ll present the second half next time. Our theme music is by the famous film score composer Roc Chen. We want to thank our writer Lü Weitao, translator Du Guodong, and copy editor Pu Ren. And thank you for listening. We hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please tell a friend so they, too, can understand The Context.