- 1117
ATTRIBUTED TO SHITAO (YUANJI) | SCENERY OF CHAO RIVER
Estimate
30,000 - 50,000 USD
Log in to view results
bidding is closed
Description
- Shitao
- SCENERY OF CHAO RIVER
- ink and color on paper, hanging scroll
- 153 by 65.8 cm. 60 1/4 by 26 in.
signed Qingxiang Xiazunzhe Yuanji, with four seals of the artist, qian you long mian ji, a chang, qing xiang shi tao, zan zhi shi shi sun a chang With three collector's seals of Ye Yungu (1775-1832), ye meng long yin, ye shi feng man lou yin, nan hai ye shi yun gu jia cang, and one other collector's seal, zhu chi zhen wan
Condition
- Paper bears darkened tone due to age. - Restoration of paper loss and ink loss can be found here and there. - Moderate surface stain and dirt.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.
Catalogue Note
Artist's inscription:
Over a hundred and eight miles in Chao Lake, a hundred and eight kinds of sorrow. The traveler who has come has not traveled with a light heart. The endless mountains form a row of blue shadows. As the roaring waves arise they resemble white hair. For now I step upon clouds to ascend the Phoenix Terrace. Listlessly I seek unfiltered wine and an immortal's boat. To leave or stay in life is a matter of destiny. I can only trust that the gods will keep the good journeyers around.
Amidst the waves I spy the craggy windswept cliffs. How monumental is the Phoenix Terrace decked in jade! It is suspended in mid-air amidst flying clouds, surrounded by the sounds of passing boats and the cries of arriving geese. The sinking of the ground beneath Chao Lake happened during the Chiwu period. The four rivers filled it and continue to flood it even now. For days the east wind has kept us at the sandy bank. With no way to go, the travelers are forced to mill about.
Two poems on "Stayed by wind at Zhongmiao during the ascent to the Phoenix Terrace" The east wind has kept me on the edge of Chao Lake, where boats are anchored in tens and fives. Farming families live on White Geese Bank. The night wind sends the fragrance of lotuses towards the fields. Through the clear water and verdant moss one can count the fish. In the famous place of Jinsha, what year is it now? The upstanding host is kind to his guest, insisting on entering the water to harvest the lotus. He tells the guest to pay him with a poem for a flower: "I only love poetry and do not love money." He harvests a lotus that has not fully blossomed; the single flower is forlorn and pitiable. I now believe in the paradise beyond the grotto, increasingly immersed in my fantasy as I enjoy the flower. Day after day it seems about to blossom but does not blossom. I record these memories in front of it.
Lodging at Jinsha River at night, I received a white lotus as a gift from the local farmer, who allowed my boat to anchor there for days without trouble. He refused my attempt to pay him money and asked for a poem instead.
Traveling lightly with a staff and a hat, I am pleased not to have a home. Bidding my friend farewell, I turn towards the shining lake. In my study of Buddhism I have never stayed at one place. My home is in nature, continually changing.
In the summer of yihai, Grand Chancellor Li Rongzhai and Governor Zhang Jianyang greeted me in Hebei and wanted to host me at Daoxianglou, where Master Zhili had stayed. By nature I do not like receiving favors, and I thanked them and left. I composed these poems passing through Chao Lake, where I was detained by wind for some five or seven days. Here I have shared them with brother Zhang Jianyang and memorialized an episode from my lifetime of travel.
Over a hundred and eight miles in Chao Lake, a hundred and eight kinds of sorrow. The traveler who has come has not traveled with a light heart. The endless mountains form a row of blue shadows. As the roaring waves arise they resemble white hair. For now I step upon clouds to ascend the Phoenix Terrace. Listlessly I seek unfiltered wine and an immortal's boat. To leave or stay in life is a matter of destiny. I can only trust that the gods will keep the good journeyers around.
Amidst the waves I spy the craggy windswept cliffs. How monumental is the Phoenix Terrace decked in jade! It is suspended in mid-air amidst flying clouds, surrounded by the sounds of passing boats and the cries of arriving geese. The sinking of the ground beneath Chao Lake happened during the Chiwu period. The four rivers filled it and continue to flood it even now. For days the east wind has kept us at the sandy bank. With no way to go, the travelers are forced to mill about.
Two poems on "Stayed by wind at Zhongmiao during the ascent to the Phoenix Terrace" The east wind has kept me on the edge of Chao Lake, where boats are anchored in tens and fives. Farming families live on White Geese Bank. The night wind sends the fragrance of lotuses towards the fields. Through the clear water and verdant moss one can count the fish. In the famous place of Jinsha, what year is it now? The upstanding host is kind to his guest, insisting on entering the water to harvest the lotus. He tells the guest to pay him with a poem for a flower: "I only love poetry and do not love money." He harvests a lotus that has not fully blossomed; the single flower is forlorn and pitiable. I now believe in the paradise beyond the grotto, increasingly immersed in my fantasy as I enjoy the flower. Day after day it seems about to blossom but does not blossom. I record these memories in front of it.
Lodging at Jinsha River at night, I received a white lotus as a gift from the local farmer, who allowed my boat to anchor there for days without trouble. He refused my attempt to pay him money and asked for a poem instead.
Traveling lightly with a staff and a hat, I am pleased not to have a home. Bidding my friend farewell, I turn towards the shining lake. In my study of Buddhism I have never stayed at one place. My home is in nature, continually changing.
In the summer of yihai, Grand Chancellor Li Rongzhai and Governor Zhang Jianyang greeted me in Hebei and wanted to host me at Daoxianglou, where Master Zhili had stayed. By nature I do not like receiving favors, and I thanked them and left. I composed these poems passing through Chao Lake, where I was detained by wind for some five or seven days. Here I have shared them with brother Zhang Jianyang and memorialized an episode from my lifetime of travel.