3—
Portraits of Jin

The dark chamber, once sealed,
For a thousand years shall not again see dawn's light.
Tao Yuanming, "Funeral Song No. 3"

The fall of the Han dynasty in A.D. 220 marked the official end of the centralized state that had prevailed for over four centuries. The ensuing political and intellectual ferment led to the development of new institutions, ideas, and attitudes that were to mark China for centuries and to have a lasting effect on its literary and visual arts. The events of the third century will therefore occupy a prominent place in this study of portraiture. For the moment, however, I shall postpone discussion of those events and juxtapose to Han portraiture some portraits of the fourth century. In wrenching them temporarily from their historical context, I hope to sharpen the comparisons and contrasts.

The stone tomb at Yinan in Shandong province offers an example for comparison with later tombs. Opinions vary as to its precise date, although no scholar places it earlier than late second century, the date first proposed in the archaeological report.^[1] Most architectural fea-

tures, tomb relics, and pictorial themes support the conclusion of its authors. Historical events also play a role in their considerations: A tomb of such lavish construction and décor, they argue, could not have been constructed after the fall of the dynasty, the consequent partition of the country into separate states, each striving to restore the empire at the expense of the others, and the general dislocation and impoverishment that ensued.^[2]

In recent years an increasing number of archaeologically excavated stone tombs datable to Eastern Han have reinforced the argument for a Han date for the Yinan tomb.^[3] I shall note here only its most salient characteristics.^[4]

Constructed of dressed stone slabs, the tomb measures approximately 8.7 by 7.55 meters. Intended to resemble a dwelling, it is divided into eight rooms: three chambers on its longitudinal axis running north and south, three side chambers to the west, and two side chambers to the east. The post-and-lintel construction is especially notable for its use of octagonal columns and bracketing. The sophisticated corbeling for roof construction is also worthy of note, especially in the main chamber, where diagonal placement of corbels forms a Laternendecke.

Both façade and interior walls are covered with relief images whose subjects form a compendium of Eastern Han tomb iconography. The elaborate scenes of offerings, kitchen preparation, feasting, and entertainment tell much about life and death in Han China, as well as about the status—or would-be status—of the deceased. Supernatural images serve to protect the tomb; hybrid creatures signal auspiciousness. Historical or legendary figures—the Duke of Zhou and King Cheng, Duke Huan of Qi and the Virtuous Lady, Confucius and Laozi (fig. 11)—are the exemplars on whom the deceased most surely modeled himself in life.

The Yinan tomb is thus a model of Han funerary practices and conviction. Its pictorial décor, with its emphasis on status, righteous behavior, and protection of the tomb, may be read as a summary of late-Han values and beliefs. Although the reigning dynasty fell in A.D. 220, many Han values persisted.

Tombs of the Northeast

The sporadic control exercised by the Chinese over its commanderies in third-century Korea ceased, presumably, with the conquest of

north China by various tribal groups in 313. In 1949, however, archaeologists unearthed a stone tomb at Anak (the former Han commandery of Lelang) that bore an inscription in Chinese referring to one Dong Shou.^[5] The inscription states that Dong Shou died in A.D. 357 and that he was governor of Lelang. It adds several other official titles, all of which are purely Chinese.

Many architectural elements of the Yinan tomb, such as the octagonal pillars, corbeled ceilings, and Laternendecke, are found in the Dong Shou tomb. Its plan, moreover, is similar to Yinan's, with a front and a back room lying on an axis and asymmetrically arranged rooms, one on either side of the main chamber.^[6] Still other architectural elements of Yinan, which need not concern us here, are found in northern tomb constructions of the early Six Dynasties period.^[7]

Like the Yinan tomb, the stone walls of the Lelang tomb are covered with pictures, as are the ceilings. Here, however, the pictures are painted rather than carved. Su Bai links both the method and the style of the paintings to third-century tomb paintings at Liaoyang.^[8] Except for the motifs painted on the ceilings, the subjects of the paintings—domestic scenes, attendants, mounted processions, the tomb occupant and his wife—are, as Su Bai remarks, the stone images of Han.^[9] These subjects are also found in the Liaoyang tombs.^[10] The scenes of history and legend, however, do not appear in these later tombs of the northeast.

I shall discuss the portrait of Dong Shou (fig. 13) in conjunction with another, recently excavated, portrait from a tomb at Chaoyang in present-day Liaoning (fig. 14).^[11] Although both tombs are of stone, they differ architecturally. The newly unearthed tomb has only one main chamber and one side room and is considerably smaller than the Dong Shou tomb. Construction is simple, with none of the architectural refinements of the Yinan and Lelang tombs.^[12] Portrayed on its plaster-coated walls, however, are numerous scenes, many of whose themes—such as food preparation, processions, officials, attendants—are similar to those of the Lelang tomb. The authors of the report conclude, because of similarities of construction, relics, and style of the paintings to other tombs both in the same region and elsewhere, that the tomb was constructed in the first half of the fourth century.^[13]

A portrait of the deceased appears on a wall in a niche of the main chamber of the Chaoyang tomb. It is virtually identical with the portrait of the Lelang tomb. Although the portrait is badly damaged and difficult to see in reproduction, the report confirms this. Both men are frontally seated, cross-legged, on a platform surmounted by a canopy

13.
Portrait of Dong Shou.
Drawing of a wall painting from a stone tomb at Lelang
(Anak, Korea). Ca.  A.D.   357.  (From K. H. J. Gardiner,  Early History of Korea. )

and backed by a screen. The faces of both are long ovals that show thick dark eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes, a long nose, and so forth. The Chaoyang report confirms that there are traces of a beard, as in the Dong Shou portrait, although one is not visible in the reproduction. Robe lapels are wide, sleeves are broad. Each man grasps in his right hand an object identified in the reports as a fly whisk, held upright in front of the right shoulder. According to the Chaoyang report, the fingertips of the left hand touch a cup held in front of his waist. The published illustration, however, shows the left hand in the same gesture as Dong Shou's, but touching the wearer's belt, to which is attached the shou, his sign of rank. The men wear identical hats. The broadly painted interior strokes of their upper robes and the lack of any definition of bodies underneath clearly suggest the heavy cloth that, visible on the Dong Shou drawing, fully covers and hides the

14.
Detail of a wall painting from a stone tomb at Yuantaizi, Chaoyang county,
Liaoning province. Fourth century A.D.  (From Wenwu  1984.6.)

lower torso and legs. Its wide, scalloped contours are the only evidence of the subject's seated, cross-legged posture.

Virtually identical, wholly interchangeable, these are official portraits. The frontal, static posture, the accoutrements of office (hats, fly whisk, the heavy robes with wide lapels, canopy, screen, flanking attendants) tell us no more than that they are officials. It is their status that counts, their membership in an elite group. All else is irrelevant. That they served well is confirmed by the accompanying scenes that attest to the abundance and prosperity of a well-ordered domain.

No inscription remains in the Chaoyang tomb to identify the incumbent. Nor is it clear, despite the inscription, that the Lelang tomb was built for the governor of Lelang.^[14] If it is his tomb, who appointed him, under whom did he serve?

We read of Dong Shou only once in the Jin shu, in connection with

the Murong Xianbei chieftain Huang, in whose domain Dong apparently resided.^[15] Embroiled in the civil wars that engulfed the domain after the death in 333 of Huang's father, Hui, the faction to which Marshal Dong Shou belonged was defeated by Huang. Offered sanctuary by the king of Koguryo, many of the defeated, including Dong Shou, fled east and south.

We can thus account for the presence of Dong Shou in Lelang. But it is not clear who actually controlled the territory. It is unlikely, as K. H. J. Gardiner points out, that it was still a Chinese commandery, in terms of any actual administrative control. Evidence in the form of inscribed bricks, however, suggests that as late as 404, Chinese were settled there.^[16] Dong Shou therefore governed Lelang either as the appointed official of the king of Koguryo or as an independent warlord.

Arguing for the latter, Gardiner notes that the string of titles on the tomb inscription are official Chinese titles, although without foundation in fact. "By these titles," he notes, "Tung Shou [Dong Shou] signalized his independence of Koguryo and gave himself the appearance of a loyal officer of the Chin [Jin] dynasty in China."^[17] Moreover, they served to increase his prestige by linking him to earlier, legitimate governors of Lelang. Assessing the arguments, Gardiner concludes that the tomb was built for Dong Shou and that the portrait is intended to be like him.^[18]

In fact, however, we do not know who the incumbents of the Lelang and Chaoyang tombs were or whom they served. Chinese architecture, Chinese pictorial subjects, and Chinese titles are not in themselves clear evidence that the patrons were Chinese: they merely tell us that the patrons wished to be seen as Chinese. The grandiose titles of the Dong Shou inscription, such as "General Pacifying the East," "Commander-Protector of the Barbarians," are Dong Shou's wish, his soi-disant rank. So also may have been the characteristics of the portrait.

For the purpose of this argument, therefore, neither the origins (ethnic, social, etc.) of the subjects of the two portraits nor the actual masters they served matters; what matters is that they wished to be portrayed as Chinese. The specific Chinese pictorial traditions they chose reveal much about what they valued, about their soi-disant character, as it were.

It is therefore of considerable interest that these two tombs of the fourth century perpetuate architectural (in the case of the Lelang tomb) and pictorial traditions of a much earlier period, the late Han

dynasty. The many paintings that adorn the stone walls depict some of the same scenes found in the Han tombs at Yinan, Helingeer, and so forth, such as a kitchen scene, stables, officials, processions. However, there are no depictions of historical or legendary figures exemplifying filial piety, uprightness, incorruptibility. Status and wealth are depicted for us; Confucian virtue is not, or, at least, not in the same way, for, as I have noted in the previous chapter, status and wealth are themselves evidence of virtue.

The incumbents of the Chaoyang and Lelang tombs wished to be portrayed as ones who administered a state and served an empire—and with the same conduct and values publicly espoused by those who had, in reality, served the Han empire. It is therefore not surprising that artisans utilized Han pictorial traditions to convey these specific values. The two portraits differ little from the many Eastern Han finds of depictions of officials. Whether it be the Master of Records portrait painted on the brick tomb at Wangdu in Hebei, the homage scene of the brick tomb at Helingeer, or the homage scene in relief in the stone tomb at Zhucheng in Shandong, the chief subjects of these paintings are depicted as serving (or as having served) the state.^[19] Large figures, seated frontally, cross-legged and motionless on a platform, formally robed and capped, their attendants at the ready—these are portraits that denote rank.

They are the pictorial counterparts of the various inscriptions that appear in these tombs. The Master of Records at Wangdu is named by the office held, not by personal name; the incumbent of the tomb at Helingeer is referred to by offices held, not by personal name; the inscription at Lelang names Dong Shou and follows with a long list of putative offices held. In the broadest sense of the definition, the pictorial depictions, albeit stock images, are portraits because they were intended to be like specific individuals. Conventions that had not yet lost their significance told all that counted, a man's rank or status in life. As I have remarked of earlier images, if the subjects of the Chaoyang and Lelang portraits look exactly alike, it is because they were alike, in the only way that mattered. Chinese artisans residing in the Han dynasty settlements throughout the northeast transmitted these traditions, which were refreshed by the influx of Chinese fleeing the turmoil of the early third century.Their continuance is seen in the tomb paintings, datable to the Three Kingdoms–Western Jin period (A.D. 220–316), at Liaoyang, in Liaoning province.^[20] The tradition of the Han "official" portrait, however, did not survive merely as a result of later artisans' pictorial bankruptcy. Other paintings in the

Chaoyang and Lelang tombs, for example, are clear evidence of the emergence of new themes and of a large stockpile of images and scenes for funerary art. The portrait of rank persisted because it was wanted. It continued to have meaning for patrons and viewers.

The Nanjing Tomb

The tomb excavated in 1960 in the vicinity of the Xishan Bridge, south of present-day Nanjing, seemed at first little different in either construction or contents from other Six Dynasty tombs previously unearthed in the area.^[21] It had been broken into at an early date, but damage was confined largely to the corridor. Constructed of gray brick, the oblong tomb's interior, measuring 6.85 by 3.1 meters, comprised a narrow corridor and a single burial chamber. Its wall construction of three rows laid horizontally to every vertical row of bricks was characteristic of fourth- and fifth-century tombs, as were the herringbone-patterned brick floor, tunnel-vaulted roof, and stone doors topped by a stone lintel embossed with a design shaped like the letter A. The report refers to a neighboring tomb, dated A.D. 369, with similar characteristics, while a tomb dating from 384, excavated east of the city, featured a similar drainage system of sump pits connected to drainage lines under the floor.^[22] A few bricks utilized in construction and distributed randomly throughout the tomb were inscribed with floral designs.^[23]

Mortuary objects scattered in the burial chamber were the usual array of metal coins, clay utensils and vessels, glazed stoneware. The pottery horse and rhinoceros were common, and the small stone pigs were ubiquitous in known tombs of the period. The three clay effigies, of which a male and a female remained intact, resembled others found in the region.^[24] The low brick platform filling the latter two-thirds of the room (exclusive of the apse at the rear) was another characteristic feature. On this platform sat four stone slabs intended to be the base for two wood coffins, their only remaining traces being the iron nails scattered on the floor.

In sum, only one feature of this tomb was unique, the two relief murals on the long walls of the burial chamber (figs. 2 and 3). Beginning approximately halfway into the room, and one-half meter above the floor, each mural measured 2.4 by 0.8 meters. Each was composed of many dozens of gray bricks set in the same pattern as the rest of the

wall, namely, three horizontal rows of bricks to every vertical row. The sides or ends of the bricks bore inscriptions that were obviously guides to their positioning.^[25]

The very intricacy of the composition was without parallel in previous tomb finds. The technique of stamping a design in clay could, after all, be traced back to late Neolithic times and was commonly used for tomb walls of Western Han.^[26] Multiple-brick designs datable to the Six Dynasties had been found earlier in the Nanjing area.^[27] One of these was a small stag in fine-line relief and composed of two bricks; the other composition required three bricks to depict a tiger, again in fine-line relief.^[28] Many of these bricks, including the multiple-tile compositions, have floral or animal designs—sometimes complete, sometimes partial—on other facets of the bricks, including the narrow sides and short ends. Each brick design, in short, is a mass-produced module.^[29]

No one had anticipated the technical complexity of the new finds. The excavators posited a complicated process of manufacture: The mural designs were first drawn on wood boards, which were then carved and pressed into wet-clay bricks. After firing, the bricks were assembled as integral parts of the tomb walls.^[30] The method, as Akiyama Terukazu has remarked, is sophisticated, and the Xishanqiao murals are surely not the first to have been constructed in this manner.^[31]

Complexity of construction, however, was not the only surprise for the excavators. Both the subject of the murals—for the pair constitute one subject—and its treatment were to astonish. Quite simply, nothing like them had been previously excavated.

Each mural is composed of four male figures and five trees. The variegated trees, which stretch the full height of the panel, separate and frame each figure. Like their Han predecessors, these images are accompanied by inscriptions. Beside each figure a brick supplies a name in relief. The murals, therefore, are portraits. The subjects, however, are new. Seven of the eight men in the composition are historical personages who lived in the third century. The eighth figure, also a man, is known from at least one story circulating in their time. Let us see how they were depicted approximately a century later, in a region of China far from their homes.

On the south wall, as one enters the burial chamber, a tree with broad, scallop-edged leaves rises behind a frontally seated figure whose head turns slightly, in three-quarter view, to the west (the rear of the room).^[32] His moustache and whiskers are visible; his hair is tied

15.
Xi Kang.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing.
(From Yao and Gu, Liuchao yishu. )

16.
Xi Kang.
Detail of figure 2.

in tufts at the top of the head. He wears no cap or hat. The back is rigidly erect, and the arms extend down, with both hands resting on a long, stringed musical instrument, the qin. The fingers are poised, as if ready to pluck the strings. The upper portion of the robe reveals the chest; the bunched right sleeve bares the arm. The left leg, resting on the fur mat that separates the figure from the ground, bends at the knee, where the robe folds back, to uncover the calf and foot. The right knee, covered by his robe, is raised, while the foot lies flat on the mat. His garments drape in folds and flutter behind his bared arm and at his feet (figs. 15 and 16).

17.
Ruan Ji.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing. (From Yao and Gu,  Liuchao yishu. )

18.
Ruan Ji.
Detail of figure 2. (Photograph courtesy of Amy and Martin J. Powers.)

The inscribed brick tells us that he is Xi Kang (A.D. 223–262), poet, musician, and seeker after immortality. Related by marriage to the royal family of Wei, he was executed for political intrigue.^[33]

To the west of Xi Kang, separated from him by a tree, a figure drawn partly in profile, partly in three-quarter view, faces him (figs. 17 and 18). A soft, puffed cloth covers part of his head. The palm of his left hand rests behind him on the mat, as if to support the leaning torso. The right elbow perches on the right, raised knee; the arched fingers are close to the puckered lips and suggest that the man is about to whistle. The left leg extends out on the mat, the foot is relaxed. Here, too, the robe bunches, drapes, or flutters to reveal the chest, arms, and bare foot. To the left of the figure appears a large-handled, footed bowl and saucer. It is a wine bowl, typical of many found in

19.
Shan Tao.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing. (From Yao and Gu,  Liuchao yishu. )

20.
Shan Tao.
Detail of figure 2.  (Photograph courtesy of Amy and Martin J. Powers.)

tombs of the period. I interpret the small object discernible inside the bowl to be a dipper.^[34]

We learn from the inscription that the figure is Ruan Ji (A.D. 210–263). Like his friend Xi Kang, he was a poet and a musician.^[35]

The next figure, depicted in three-quarter view, faces the west wall and gazes in the direction of the figure who follows after him (figs. 19 and 20). His head is covered by a cloth wrapped loosely as a turban. He sits erectly; his left arm is raised from the elbow, his hand holds a wine cup. Both sleeves are pushed back to reveal the lower arms, while the right hand reaches around the raised right knee to clutch the gathered sleeve of the other arm. The left leg is bent at the knee, its calf and foot tucked behind the right leg. The chest and feet are bare. A wine bowl, similar to Ruan Ji's, appears at the right of the figure.

21.
Wang Rong.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing.
(From Yao and Gu, Liuchao yishu. )

22.
Wang Rong.
Detail of figure 2. (Photograph courtesy of James and Nicholas Cahill.)

Shan Tao (A.D. 205–283) is the name on the accompanying brick. He occupied a high position under the Sima clan, founders of the Western Jin dynasty (A.D. 265–316).^[36]

The mural on the south wall terminates in a figure, again in three-quarter view, who faces Shan Tao (figs. 21 and 22). His hair, like Xi Kang's, is tufted, and a slender ribbon or lock of hair hangs down his back. He slouches in a curious posture that few, if any, can imitate: the front of his left thigh lies flat on the mat, the leg rotates up at the knee, rotates again at the ankle. The sole of the foot thus faces up, while the toes rest lightly on the raised right knee, whose foot rests on the mat. The elbow of the left arm, muffled in cloth, rests on a rectangular box.

23.
Xiang Xiu.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing.
(From Yao and Gu, Liuchao yishu. )

24.
Xiang Xiu.
Detail of figure 3.

The lower arm extends up, the palm opens, and the fingers curve sinuously. A long wand, a ruyi, perches on the very tips of the fingers.^[37] A wine bowl, similar to the others, appears to the figure's left. The duck swimming inside is actually, I believe, a tiny dipper with a bird-shaped handle. A crescent-shaped, footed wine cup sits above (behind?) the bowl.

By now the insouciant figure's bare limbs should not surprise us. It is, rather, a surprise to learn that it is Wang Rong (A.D. 234–305), who held the highest office in the land.^[38] It is unlikely that he is performing his official duties in this scene. The mural on this wall terminates in a gingko tree fanning out above Wang Rong's head.

25.
Liu Ling.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing.
(From Yao and Gu, Liuchao yishu. )

26.
Liu Ling.
Detail of figure 3.

On the north wall, as one enters the room, the first, frontally depicted figure slumps against a tree, identical to the gingko that accompanies Wang Rong on the opposite wall (figs. 23 and 24). He wears a cloth cap; his eyes are closed; and one short, downward-curving line hints at a wrinkled forehead. His inclined head and left shoulder suggest utter relaxation, as the left sleeve of his robe falls and crumples from his shoulder to bare his chest and upper arm. His right hand rests on his naked thigh; the bent knee and calf weight the swirls and scallops of his tumbled robe—an interesting contrast to the scallops of cloth that float out and up from behind his right arm. His left leg, fully covered, is raised at the thigh and bends at the knee.

27.
Ruan Xian.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing.
(From Yao and Gu, Liuchao yishu. )

28.
Ruan Xian.
Detail of figure 3.

The inscription informs us that he is Xiang Xiu (A.D. 228–281), the author of a now-lost commentary on the Zhuangzi.^[39]

The figure to the right of Xiang Xiu faces in his direction (figs. 25 and 26). His left hand, held close to his waist, holds a wine cup. His bare head is inclined in the direction of his right hand, which he holds up, fingers curled, in front of his chest. One finger extends down and into the wine bowl. His right leg is raised, his bared knee bends so that the foot rests on the mat. The left leg lies flat on the mat and curls behind the other. His loose garment gathers and folds to reveal his bare chest, lower right arm, and leg.

29.
Rong Qiqi.
Relief detail, tomb at Xishanqiao, Nanjing.
(From Yao and Gu, Liuchao yishu. )

30.
Rong Qiqi.
Detail of figure 3.

This is Liu Ling (third century), lover of wine and known primarily as the author of a hymn to its virtues.^[40]

The third figure in the row turns his face to the entrance (figs. 27 and 28). Wearing a billowing, kerchief-like cap, he directs his gaze to the frets of the stringed musical instrument he holds in front of his chest. His left hand cups around the fingerboard and, with the pluck in his right hand, he touches the strings of the sounding-board. He sits cross-legged on the mat.

The inscription names the figure as Ruan Xian (A.D. 230–281), musician and tippler.^[41] He was the nephew of Ruan Ji, who appears on the opposite wall.

According to tradition, the seven figures named and depicted in the murals formed a group known as the Seven Worthies of the Bamboo Grove. The eighth figure, however, is an outsider.

This final personage also faces the entrance to the room (figs. 29 and 30). Capless, his long hair falls over his shoulders. Three short arcs furrow his brow. He sits with his knees together, his feet tucked under his robe. The hands rest on either end of a stringed musical instrument in his lap, his fingers arch. He is garbed like the other figures, save for a twisted belt, the ends of which depend from his waist. The mural, like its counterpart on the south wall, terminates in a gingko tree.

The inscribed brick names this last figure as Rong Qiqi, a legendary creature. Huainanzi tells us that when Rong Qiqi plucked one chord of his lute, "Confucius, moved by its harmony, rejoiced for three days."^[42]

Eight images, with no background or spatial setting, divided between two walls, are nevertheless united into one composition. They are united by repetition of depiction—one figure, one tree; by repetition of attributes—wine bowls, musical instruments, fur mats; by repetition of forms that are variations on a theme—lounging en déshabille. They are united, finally, by one fact: seven of the eight figures in the composition were known, at the time this Nanjing tomb was constructed, to at least some people in the Nanjing region, as the Seven Worthies of the Bamboo Grove.^[43] The mural is, as I shall argue, a collective portrait, in which all eight men personify—and celebrate—the same values. Its significance was to endure for centuries—indeed, to the present day.

What astonished the excavators was its difference, as we have observed, from Han-period and even later portrayals. Alternating trees and human figures were not an innovation; they appear on countless Western Han stamped tiles. Here, however, the human figures do not stand, like their predecessors; they sit. They do not sit, however, on elevated platforms in the formal, motionless pose of the Dong Shou portrait. They lounge, they loll, on fur mats on the ground. They are not decorously bundled in official robes like the seated, gesturing figures painted on the Lelang basket. Rather, their garments fall around them to expose bare chests, bare feet. There are no robe lapels, no braids dangling from belts to signify a person's station in life. No headgear or attribute supplies clues to rank or status. No two images are exactly alike, and the stock figures of Han are replaced by individualized figures.

Like those of the earlier, painted basket, the Nanjing figures are all

the same size and are seated at the same level, with no hint of hierarchy. All the basket figures, however, are depicted, by their postures and gestures, in relationship to at least one other figure. In contrast, each relief figure is isolated from his compeers by a tree. Although some of the eight men face each other, no gesture of any one can be interpreted as specifically directed to another figure in the mural. Each of them, limbs close to the body, seems self-contained.

The stretching and turning, the reaching and gesticulating of the Lelang figures create a sense of lively animation. Muscles are not apparent, but we know, from posture and gesture, that they are tense. One may point also to the violent and agitated postures of many relief figures at Yinan, which contrast so strongly with the still poses of Confucius and Laozi in the same tomb.^[44] The lounging limbs and self-contained gestures of the Seven Worthies and Rong Qiqi, however, are relaxed. Even Xi Kang, his back and head erect, his fingers positioned as if to play (like the other musicians), manages to convey a relaxed feeling, by virtue, perhaps, of his bared limbs. About this lolling and self-containment there is a curious air of calm, of quiet. Yet, as I shall discuss below, the forms are not static like Dong Shou's, nor are they stately and measured like Confucius's and Laozi's.

The subjects could not, of course, have been depicted before the third century. If we knew nothing about them, we would know from their postures, garb, and attributes that no pious Confucius confronts us; no filial Ding Lan reminds us of our obligations; no servant of the empire trumpets, like Dong Shou, service, duty, or rank.

No inscription, save those naming the figures in the murals, was found in the tomb.^[45] Comparing the Xishanqiao find with dated tombs in the area, the authors of the original excavation report proposed a date of either late Eastern Jin or early Liu-Song. Although its characteristics have been repeatedly discussed and evaluated in the ensuing years, no firmer dating has been agreed upon.^[46] The occupants of the tomb, presumably husband and wife, remain unknown to us. In the years following the discovery of the Nanjing tomb and its Seven Worthies portraits, three more tombs were unearthed with evidence for the portrayal of the same individuals. The sites of all three are in present-day Danyang, not far from Nanjing. The remains of large stone animal sculptures at each of the sites confirm that all were royal burials.^[47] During the Six Dynasties period, Danyang, known then as Southern Lanling, was the home of a branch of the Xiao family, which ruled in the south from 479 to 502 as the Southern Qi dynasty. Thus, although no inscriptions with dates or names were found

at these Danyang sites, it is clear that all three tombs were made for members of the Qi imperial family and that all were constructed during or immediately following the reigning years of the dynasty.

There is nothing to suggest that the earlier Nanjing tomb housed royalty, whether a Sima of Jin or a Liu of Song, and no scholar believes that it did. If the earlier portrait began as nonimperial art (perhaps even as an idiosyncratic choice), as the earliest of the four tombs known to us suggests, what about it was so compelling that some fifty to one hundred years later it was adopted by men who ranked highest in the land? Why were a few playful poets and tippling officials so important to anyone, let alone to members of the imperium? Whatever happened to filial piety, to uprightness, to incorruptibility, to rank and wealth? Where was Virtue?

I shall first attempt to ascertain the meaning the Seven Worthies portraits may have had for the earliest tomb incumbent known to us, someone in the late fourth or the early fifth century, who lived in what is now Nanjing. Establishing that, I shall then compare them with the later portraits to demonstrate that they have risen in the world.