Mianzhu’s Woodblock Prints 綿竹木版年畫
The Victorian traveller Isabella Bird visited Mianzhu in the 1890s and described “a beautiful modern bridge over a branch of the Fou, of six stone arches, a fine roof, iron balustrades, and a central roofed tower”. The Jiying Bridge (积英桥) dates to 1881, part of a wider programme of flood-proofing infrastructure instigated by Sichuanese governor Ding Baozhen. Because of subsidence along the river bank two extra arches were added in the 1990s.
Mianzhu is a riverside market town on the edge of the Chengdu plains. Mountains rear up to the north, dusted with snow well into spring; they mark a tectonic fault line and Mianzhu was almost destroyed in the 2008 Sichuan earthquake, whose epicentre was only 60km away. Rebuilt from scratch, today the town is low-rise and modern, excepting some temples, the Jiying bridge, and a single “antique” lane focusing on a wine industry dating back to the tenth century.
Woodblock printing is another old tradition, tenuously claiming Song dynasty origins (960–1279). The eleventh-century Records of Chengdu Past and Present by Zhao Bian mentions an annual market at the Sichuanese capital for “peachwood talismans” (桃符), a local name for protective door-god pictures, but doesn’t actually say these were made at Mianzhu.
Two early 20C prints of a military door god with a mace, and civil door god holding a smoking incense burner. Printed on heavy, locally-made paper, and loosely hand-painted (with gold stenciling) over a faint woodblock-printed outline. From their expressions, the artist had a sense of humour
At any rate, by the nineteenth century the town supported three hundred small woodblock studios, producing millions of prints annually for export across China. There were even “northern” and “southern” schools, depending on which side of Mianzhu the village workshops were located. Studios specialised in just two subjects: woodblock rubbings in black ink (covered in full here), and woodblock prints of door gods.
Colouring in outlines at Xiaode Woodblock Printing Village (孝德镇年画村), south of Mianzhu. My feeling is that a good deal of spontaneity has been lost from the process by a studious reproduction of approved old designs.
Only the outline design was printed, with all colours overpainted by hand. This allowed for variation between studios: some went for a bright, bold and imposing look; in others the figures are coloured in a much more playful, freehand manner.
So here are typical Mianzhu military door gods, the familiar pair Qin Qiong and Yuchi Gong, designed in the distinctive local style with their bodies twisting inwards. Unusually, their eyes have also been painted over in a clear, shiny glaze which makes them flicker as you move past.
Qin Qiong (better known at Mianzhu as Qin Shubao) and Yuchi Gong, Tang dynasty generals who in folklore scared off demons which had been plaguing the emperor with nightmares. They appear China-wide as door gods, offering a useful comparison of local design styles. Prints c1980s
Chinese wooden deity statues have their pupils dotted on in a ceremony called 开光, literally “opening the light”, after which the spirit of the deity is held to be resident in the statue. In the original outline print of this woodblock, the eyes were left blank, and this – combined with the glazed effect – makes me wonder if the painting the eyes on these door gods also “activated” them in a similar way.
Civil door gods are generally anonymous and hold symbols bestowing wishes for high rank and salary. This pair however depict key characters and objects from the Sichuan opera “The White Cockatoo”.
Mei Lun on left, Pan Ge at right. Prints c1980s
The story goes that during the regin of the last ruler of the Shang dynasty (1075–1046 BC), a barbarian state presents three treasures in tribute: a white cockatoo which calls out a person’s true nature; a cup which magically warms wine; and a felt shawl which brings sobriety. Concubine Su Ying (苏英), three months pregnant and favoured by the king, is given these treasures to guard. Meanwhile her childless rival, Concubine Mei, jealously plots with her brother Mei Lun (梅伦) to ruin Su’s position at court: they kill the cockatoo, get Su blamed and have her condemned to death.
The virtuous minister Pan Ge (潘葛) realises that Su is innocent and persuades his own wife to be executed in her place, while he sneaks the real Su out of the palace. On the run, Su gives birth to a son and abandons him to be raised by a peasant family. Thirteen years later mother and son are reunited and return to court to claim the prince’s birthright. The king, who has long regretted Su Ying’s execution, recognises her and, delighted to learn he has an heir, restores her to favour. Concubine Mei is imprisoned, Mei Lun executed, and everything ends well.
Never play cards with a bunch of monkeys. 1920s print on display at the Mianzhu Woodblock Print Museum (绵竹年画博物馆).
Finally, a rare 1920s foray into satire: a pig (wealthy merchant) being cheated by monkeys (card-sharps) while gambling in a tea-house - watch them passing cards to each other under the table. Shame Mianzhu studios didn’t make more like this.
Sources
Gao Wen Mianzhu New Year Pictures (高文:綿竹年畫; Cultural Relics Press 1990)
Mianzhu Woodblock Printing Museum 绵竹年画博物馆
Xiaode Woodblock Printing Village 绵竹孝德镇年画村
Zhao Bian Record of Chengdu Past and Present (赵卞: 成都古今记)