Tai Jingnong (1902–1990) wrote this seven-character couplet in his signature running script, the content extrapolated from two lines of a poem composed by Weng Tonghe 翁同龢 (1830–1904). The small size of this exquisite couplet gives it a bookish quality.

Interested in creating new modern literature, Tai Jingnong actively participated in the New Cultural Movement when he was young. However, in addition to being forward thinking, he was a traditional intellectual in terms of his manner and training.Shu Wu, “Yi Tai Jingnong xiansheng” 憶臺靜農先生, in Hui Lai Ping ed., Tai Jingnong shiji臺靜農詩集 (Hong Kong: Han Mo Xuan Publishing Co., Ltd, 2001), appendix: 5. His knowledge of traditional literature was profound. From 1946 until his retirement in 1973, Tai served as a professor of Chinese Literature at National Taiwan University, teaching classical Chinese literature. Being a literatus, Tai Jingnong considered calligraphy to be a leisurely pastime, a form of self-expression and entertainment. He did not regard himself as a calligrapher, and resisted showing his calligraphy in public, despite its popularity. When he had his first and only calligraphy exhibition at the National Museum of History, Taipei, in 1982, he was immediately recognized as one of the master calligraphers of his time.

What makes this achievement in calligraphy even more interesting is that he gave up practicing calligraphy while studying at the Peking University in 1910s and 1920s, when he was engrossed in the pursuit of new knowledge and the writings of Lu Xun (1881–1936), master of the new Chinese literature. To the young Tai, calligraphy was a petty pleasure hindering the pursuit of higher aims.Tai Jingnong, “Foreword,” in Hui Lai Ping ed., Han Mo Series A33: Tai Jingnong- Paintings (Hong Kong: Han Mo Xuan Publishing Co., Ltd, 2001): 141.

After moving to Taiwan in 1946, Tai refrained from voicing his opinion on politics and government, because the political environment was not favorable to intellectuals. Thus he devoted much of his time to calligraphy. He pointed out, “I often felt depressed during my spare time after teaching and reading. So I took up the brush again to vent my feelings but I did not want people to know this.”Ibid. When Tai wrote for his own pleasure and to express his thoughts and emotions, his calligraphy attained new heights.

This couplet was most likely done during Tai's mature period. His running script was indebted to the late Ming master, Ni Yuanlu 倪元璐 (1593–1644). Tai Jingnong's first encounter with Ni’s calligraphy occurred when he was in Sichuan province during China’s War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression (1937-45). Tai could relate to Ni Yuanlu, because both lived in times of turmoil. When, during the war, Tai moved to Chongqing, Sichuan province, in 1939, he began to use “Xiejiao an” (歇腳盦), “room for resting one’s feet,” as his studio name and continued to use it until 1982, more than thirty years after he and the Nationalists moved to Taiwan. Thus, for much of his life, he used a studio name that implies temporary residence, suggesting that he lived in a continual state of instability and uncertainty. Indeed, he lost three sons during that time.Tai Yijian, “Hard Times- Memories of My Father,” in Han Mo Series A33: Tai Jingnong- Paintings: 117, 139. Likewise, Ni Yuanlu witnessed the dynastic collapse of the Ming, committing suicide in 1644— expressing his loyalty to the fallen dynasty. Tai notes that Ni’s calligraphy has a sense of “chilliness” 冷and “emptiness空靈,”Note 1: 10, 13. and he, Tai, attempts to incorporate that spirit into his own poetry and calligraphy.

Apart from Ni’s calligraphy, Tai also studied the famous Han clerical script stele, Ode to Shimen (Shimen song 石門頌).See Tai Jingnong, Official Script after the Style of Shimen Song, 38x54 cm, collection of Chen Xiasheng. In Hui Lai Ping ed., Han Mo Series C19: Tai Jingnong- Volumn of Calligraphy (I) (Hong Kong: Han Mo Xuan Publishing Co., Ltd, 2001): 87. Familiarity with Ni’s work and the Ode to Shimen allowed him to combine the qualities of Han clerical script and late Ming cursive script to formulate a distinctive personal style, in which the brushstrokes are defined by fluency and release of energy. Executed with modest speed, the strokes are not exaggerated, but sharp, with occasional dry strokes which enliven the spirit. Last but not least, each character appears stable with a narrow top and wide base.

© 2013 by the Seattle Art Museum