Podcast – Apreciar el arte chino


A través de una maravillosa obra, “Wang Xzhi viendo gansos” de Qian Xuan (China, siglo 13 – Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York), entraremos en el “Du Ha” —la base para apreciar la pintura China.

Du Ha” o “leer una pintura” es entrar en la pintura lentamente, ver sus detalles, admirar los espacios, y confundirse con el personaje o el paisaje, para experimentar serenidad y salir del caos cotidiano.

Con esta obra de tinta y oro sobre papel, trataremos de entender cómo el arte chino busca en todo momento extenderse hacia lo bello, tal y como lo hace un árbol, una flor, el cielo.

Con esto, podremos entender y posiblemente experimentar el “yi” — lo que viene de la profundidad, el soplo de la vida misma.

Si me permiten, si les interesa el tema y lo quieren profundizar, les sugiero leer el corto y maravilloso libro del filósofo, poeta y miembro de la Academia Francesa, François Cheng, “Cinco meditaciones sobre la belleza.” (publicado en español por la Editora Siruela, España, 2016.)

Link para el podcast (ocho minutos) a través de Sound Cloud aquí.


Pagina principal para los podcasts de historia del arte aquí

Art – Lady with a fan


She stood with a fan in her hand, her gaze reaching far beyond the fence.

She filled the museum room with grace and poise – a silent contrast to the visitors, all smart phone at hand rushing by, their short attention span turning stillness into boredom.

I was absorbed by her grace. I never asked myself any questions about what she may have been thinking. There was no need.

I stood there, wishing for her serenity to touch me. And as the visitors withered away, it did. I hope it touches you as well.


“Lady with a fan” by Fei Danxu (China, 1801-1850), ink on paper, hanging scroll, Qing Dynasty – a photo I took at the Shanghai Museum in June 2018.

Inspiration: Chinese New Year and serenity. 

Art and poetry – Li Bai

“Li Bai chanting poetry” by Laing Kai, China XIIIth c. (Southern Song Dynasty) – via Tokyo National Museum

An ink painting on paper remarkable for its simplicity in technic made with just a few brush strokes; and in the portrayal of Li Bai (701-762), one of the great Chinese poets of the Tang Dynasty, known for his unencumbered use of words and depth of poetry.

The robe seems to blend with the background and a faint shadow suggest that Li Bai is walking during the evening. The painting has no elaborate details and yet we can feel the serenity of both the poet and the setting.

There is one poem by Li Bai that has always moved me and that with time, I have come to understand:

“The birds have vanished down the sky,
and now the last cloud drains away.

We sit together, the mountain and I,
until only the mountain remains.”