Appointment with Rodin

It was early spring and almost everyone in China knew that the works of Rodin were coming to China. His "Thinker," his "Gates of Hell," his "Bronze Age," his "Calais Uprising," his "Kiss" and many more were going to be exhibited first in Beijing and then in Shanghai.

In Rodin's country, France, in the courtyard of the Musee Rodin on the Rue de Varenne Paris, "The Thinker" was being carefully lifted from its base by the long, dangling arms of a large blue crane, to be placed in a wooden crate. Several hundred famous French artists quietly watched while countless movie and camera lenses were all positioned for the slow ascendency. They came to see him off. They knew that this huge bronze patina-lined sculpture, since being safely placed here in 1906, had never left its home. Now it was going, and for the first time traveling far away. The objective of this first long journey was Asia's China.

To introduce France's great bronze work to age-old China which possessed a great bronze culture was perhaps a decision which will never be surpassed in aptness. It also seems as if this might have been an unrealized wish of Rodin because of the tremendous impact which the mysterious art of the East had on him.

So, I got on a train going to Beijing to see Rodin.

I had seen some of Rodin when I was young. Of course, that was just some reprints of his work. Of these, two works affected me most deeply: one was a figure draped in a dressing gown, clearly recognizable as the disorganized Balzac; one was the flabby-muscle, naked Hugo. The young and inexperienced me just couldn't understand why Rodin would portray these two great writers the way he did. In the eyes of a young girl, it seemed as if he treated these two men far too casually. Only after growing up did I realize how honestly Rodin was treating his friends and how these two friends honestly wanted Rodin to render them this way. I've read somewhere that Balzac felt he was his true self only as Rodin had portrayed him. Consequently, up to this day, every time people mention Balzac and Hugo, the first thing that sweeps past my eyes is not their works, but the images of them as created by Rodin's hand. I think this is largely because they represent the insight shared by artists and writer, and it is this insight which captures a place in the viewers' memory. Rodin possesses this kind of strength to capture the viewers' memory; he was captured my memory.

The spring wind was pleasantly warm and the sun's rays radiant. I was at the front gate of the Chinese Museum of Art lined up waiting to buy an entrance ticket. The long line of people maintained a rarely experience agreeableness and orderliness. It was as if, coming to see Rodin, they had made a pact between themselves. For that moment, they became friendly and considerate with one another.

"The Thinker" was the first to catch my eye. He had been placed in the courtyard of the Art Museum, facing the bustling thoroughfare and a scattering of traditional grey tiled rooftops. He sat on a rock, completely naked, bent over himself; one of his arms with clenched fist supported his lower jaw, his jaw muscles taut from being deep in thought. This, after all, was a figure that everybody was familiar with. At a first glance, it seemed as if the posture was too stylized, and it did not arouse any new feeling in me. It was only when I circled around to his back that I was truly stirred. I was astonished at the painstaking attention to detail which Rodin had lavished on the back of "The Thinker." The fully articulated muscles on this broad and burly back, like turbulent waves which rhythmically rose and fell made me suddenly understand how Rodin, at the start of his work, and been able to break through the confines of his original prototype of the poet Dante, to transform the clothed and thin-faced ascetic figure into the present "Thinker." Is it possible that the artist's entire conception of agony and happiness has permeated this muscular, powerful body of "The Thinker"? Did he want intense contemplation to emerge from within a powerful body or was it perhaps that only a powerful figure like this had the strength to evoke intense contemplation? While Rodin did not neglect the head, he seemed even more fascinated with the torso buttering the head. The back was an essential element in expressing this intense contemplation. I discovered for the first time in this back, which museum-goers overlooked, the complete "Thinker"; every tense and convulsive muscle on his back conveyed to me a new sense of happiness. I derived a deep satisfaction from this moment, a moment which I alone experienced. It occurred to me that, confronted with great works of art, people tend to make trite comments on the front view—more often than not stereotyped by the viewer—while overlooking the back, in spite of the fact that its creator had painstakingly labored to create the back. Now it is the "Thinker" whole and complete, making me think.

It is a blessing in my awareness of the wholeness of the "Thinker", from the fact that I met two of my colleagues while contemplating the "Thinker." They were Jiang Yun and Li Rui, two writers from Shanxi Province. They said that they too had taken the train for Beijing to see Rodin. Although Shanxi and Hebei are neighboring provinces, we had not seen each other in years.

We gazed at each other in delightful surprise as spectators milled in front of us, while "Bronze Age," "Calais Uprising" and the beautiful shape of Claudelle lay behind us. We were surrounded by Rodin, making us suddenly realize that we were all there in search of Rodin, and that only the appeal of Rodin drew us each from our own cities to meet here.

We gazed at each other in delighted surprise, not speaking of Rodin, nor of the miracles that he had wrought for us. We uttered few words, fearful that this precious gift would disappear, as if there was no need for words in front of Rodin; we all understood that to think was a blessing.

The luxuries of life are after all extremely limited. That the "Thinker" was able to travel across the seas to come to old Beijing was a rarity, the fact that I was able to witness these miracles of human endeavor, that I was able to meet with friends in front of these miracle, these are luxuries of life. What matters is not that these miracles will disappear, what matters is that you have had this luxury, even if Rodin is back in his native land and your friends take leave.

At the beginning of winter, Jiang Yun called me from Shanxi, and she again talked of Rodin. She said that the day we met in front of Rodin was March 10, her birthday.

I am sure that we each in our hearts are deeply grateful to Rodin. It was Rodin who beckoned us to keep the appointment with him, so that we could bask in the light of farflung and extended thinking.