2010年 水松石山房主人 （生於1943年）

ink on paper with calligraphy and four seals of the artist, framed

The overall condition is very good.
"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. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."

Inscription:

I fondly recall my all too brief sojourns with my friend Haoran at the height of the Tang, when wealth filled the capital to such an extent that even the dead spent money like fools and even burial processions were proscribed.  Haoran was lucky to have absented himself from all this, having come to his jinshi degree late in life, and had only a very brief official career.  I met him first on Mount Lumen, where he was a recluse for a while, 'though not so far from his original home.  The second time was on a boat trip when he wrote some lines that have survived down the centuries:

I admired his often melancholy poetry, and when he casually wrote some lines for me one evening, I offered to make for him a walking staff.  He was very fond of prunus so the wood was never in question.  We went in search of a suitable branch, riding our donkeys in the snow until we came across one that felt just right to me.  To him they seemed the same, but they were not, and I wanted one with inner force, a spirit of its own to match his in poetry.  If he never learned to bring it forth or control it, it would still sustain him in his future endeavours.

It is almost impossible to find a truly natural prunus-wood walking staff, that is strong, narrow and suitably gnarled and ancient looking.  If narrow enough, the shoots will be recent and both insubstantial and callow in appearance; if strong enough, and suitably aged with gnarled knot-holes and the wisdom of age, it will be too thick for use.  We found eventually a solid branch seething with the inner force of a massive, ancient tree that had seen the snows come and go again for centuries, and carved its surface with the semblance of the mightier branches.  He was well pleased, and kept it by his side the rest of his life.  He even wrote a poem about it, but it is lost now and although I recall the staff with the uncanny clarity of the artist, much of the poem he chanted to me only once is lost to me to recreate as I now recreate the staff.

My friend was ranked with Wang Wei as among the best of the Tang landscape poets and who can resist such lines as:
          I hear the mourning apes on darkened hills,
          The dark blue river flows swiftly through the night.

At the Water, Pine and Stone Retreat in the summer of 2010.