The White Old Man Sūtra - Part One

South Korea, July 2022

From Lhasa to Philadelphia

The White Old Man Sūtra and the Long Life Tableau on the Back of Tibetan Currency Notes.

This two-part blog is for Yu Wonsoo, and Hanna Sorek, too.

During these past years of shutdown and isolation, visits to homes of friends have been rare. Still, we did do it once several months ago. I noticed our long-time friend Hanna, known to have an interest in Tibetan things, had a 100 srang currency note framed on her wall. She took it out from behind the glass and I started to say something about the design decorating the back of it, a tableau of the Man of Long Life (མི་ཚེ་རིང་), and before I knew it I was trying to point out and interpret its every detail. There is really a lot to see in it, and I’m sure I didn’t get it all right. So I’m going to try again. I hope this will not be a narrowly iconographic study, but a wider search for the meaning of this particular work of art and why it is found where it is. Placement may not be everything, but it is always significant.

Before we dive into the iconography of money, a few words about the circumstances that made me rethink a few things. Several connections I could not have even conceived before reading into Toni Huber’s impressively important 2-volume monograph on annual rituals for long life and prosperity held in both eastern Bhutan and its eastern neighbor, the Mönyul Corridor. A life of Tibetan Studies is one filled with amazing coincidences that can also create ruptures in your ordinary thought processes. So naturally, while I was reading the early chapters of Huber’s Source of Life an article fell on top of me, one by the famed Mongolist Caroline Humphrey,* that started me along a new train of  thinking. The conclusion that there are connections between the two was inescapable if not immediately explicable.

(*If you like, go to the references listed at the end of Part Two. Humphrey’s article fell on me thanks to the weekly notifications I receive from “Googlescholar.” I’m not going to review Toni’s book here, just extract from you a promise to read it, the first hundred pages at the very least.)

Now the Kalmuck-American community in New Jersey formed after a group of the westward-moving Oirats — displaced after World War II in Vienna, Belgrade and elsewhere in Europe — were taken much further west; in 1951 the U.S. granted them asylum and resettlement in New Jersey and Philadelphia. Among the first arrivals was Lama Sanji Rabga Möngke Bakši, who served as the head of the St. Tsongkhapa temple in Philadelphia until his death in 1972. Found among his personal effects was an Oirat version of the White Old Man Sūtra. According to the essay writer, Sanj Altan, the rituals associated with it were performed by the Kalmyk settlers up until the 1980’s.  

Click to enlarge

Basically a lay practice, monastics might be present to do the sūtra recitation, although in their absence this, too, could be done by a literate layperson. It involved ritual libations of milk, aspersed using a leafy branch, as you can see in the photograph, taken by an anthropologist named Carleton Coon, well known for other reasons back in the early 60’s.

It could be argued that in a sense all of Tibetan religion is about long life. Or, to put it in a different way, lay Tibetans tend to think that attending Buddhist teachings and particularly empowerments will result in a longer life, and they might even call such events ‘Long Life.’  I heard this numerous times during my days in Bodhnath in Nepal, but if you have doubts about this testimony, I can suggest Barbara Gerke’s book you see here, with the title Long Lives and Untimely Deaths. It might change your mind.

I use the word ‘tableau’ as a convenient word for a small group of Tibetan artworks with set iconography. I would identify three or four sets of figures I would like to call by the name of artistic tableaus, or simply tableaus.

They have in common that they are symbolic devices often found painted on outside walls of Tibetan monasteries and the like. They are sometimes found on odd sides of the building where they aren't especially visible. I cannot confidently explain why this is.

The Six of Long Life is one of them. Here you see illustrated two more. On the right you see the Four Harmonious Brothers, and on the left, the Mongol Leading the Tiger. 

Another less commonly seen one is the Indian Teacher Leading an Elephant.  I once noticed an example tucked into an outside corner of a temple in Bodhnath, and wish I could find the photograph.

The Four Harmonious Brothers seems to have its source in the Vinaya-vastu, but the stories used to explain the picture can vary quite a lot.  The message would seem to be one of the importance of cooperating in order to attain common goals, and that is how I've nearly always heard and seen it explained. However, in the Vinaya text it is more about respecting hierarchies based on seniority (the smallest animal is in fact the oldest and for that reason requires the top position).

Mongol Leading the Tiger:  Even if less frequent, this is another scene often painted on outer sides of temple walls. I’ve seen arguments this represents a legendary Mongolian warrior called Dugar Jaisang.  Somehow, in some unknown way, I’m thinking it must at least in a general way symbolize the Mongolian assistance given to the Gelugpa school against its opponents. It’s as if the aggressor (in the form of the tiger) is being pulled back and led away. Some give an elaborate interpretation of its three elements — the tiger, the Mongol and the chain — as symbolizing three Bodhisattvas. From what few explanations I’ve learned about, this has been the most popular one.

Both the Four Harmonious Brothers and the White Old Man can be found on backs of Tibetan currency notes of the early-to-mid 20th century. Here you see the front side of a Tibetan 100 srang denomination banknote. Have a good look at it, and I’ll briefly review its main features.

We can know from the twice handwritten serial no. kha[1] 18253 that this particular bill was made in 1953, the year of my birth (that the two numbers share the last 2 digits is another happenstance). I’ve labeled the various elements, and translated the main inscriptions in the slide you see here:

I should also point out a few difficult-to-see details — Note the sūrya-candra (sun-moon) symbol forming the top of the the round seal of the Dalai Lama, and Vajra Wall symbol surrounding the 'Phags-pa letters in the square seal of the Lhasa Bank. The sūrya-candra in this context surely means the pairing of religious and political affairs, while the Vajra Wall emphasizes the impenetrable nature of the Lhasa Bank. It conveys the notion of security and inviolability, although “security features” is one of those many subjects that could easily lead us off into interminable tangents. So let’s turn it over and see what’s on the back.

The verso of the same 100 srang banknote

One thing to notice before we narrow in on the central field:  The green border conceals ’Phags-pa script of Tibetan words also found on the front side.” The left side reads “Dga’-ldan Pho-brang” or ‘Ganden Phodrang,’ while the right reads “Phyogs-las Rnam-rgyal,” or ‘Victorious over the Directions.’ 

The central field of the same enlarged

For comparison, I also show the back side of the 50 srang banknote, all printed in blue. Its design is pared down to the most basic elements corresponding to the Six of Long Life, but its relative simplicity may make it easier to read.

Verso of the 50 srang banknote

• In the mean time, try and see what you can see in it. For the explanations that I think I can offer, go to the continuation by clicking here.

Alchi Padampa's Meaning: A New Light to Shine on it

I remember being perplexed over and over again by this particular painting of Padampa, not only because of its unusual iconography but perhaps even more by its placement. Not that there is the least dishonor in being depicted anywhere at all on an image of the Bodhisattva of insightful wisdom, philosophical acumen and learning. But down there practically between the ankles? He has enough Padampa characteristics there can be not much doubt it’s him. Notice the earring-enlarged earlobes, the white blanket loosely enshrouding his basically unclothed body, the intensely staring eyes, the meditation strap holding up his knees and his legs crossed at the ankles. All that says Padampa. Everything checks out. But his hands might tell a different story. He is holding what has been described as a stick in his left hand* and what could be a stem of a plant in his right. We’ll focus on the stick.

(*Linrothe, p. 366: “a long white stick that may well be intended to indicate a shinbone horn.” Ham’s book, p. 53, calls it a flute.)

This painting is located in the temple of Alchi in Ladakh, in a justly famous three-storey temple there called the Sumtsek, or Triple Stack. It has three quite tall standing Bodhisattva images, and Padampa is located in the “populated robes” of one of them, Manjushri. See how Padampa floats there alone at a lower level than all the Great Siddhas that inhabit the cloth above him. He is even further marked out by being a larger size than any of them are.

Years in the business of Tibetan Studies should have made me immune — you do get used to having previous ideas turned on their heads and inside out — but I was sorely unprepared for the double-dose of shock I felt when an email popped up in my mailbox from a friend thousands of miles away. The email from author and translator Sarah Harding was about a visionary practice belonging to the Shangpa Kagyü school of Tibetan Buddhism, one that involves envisioning Padampa. The practice is detailed in a text that preserves some of the earliest Shangpa teachings, one attributed to Sukhāsiddhī, woman disciple of Virūpa. In a manner reminiscent of better-known guruyoga practices, the Great Siddha Virūpa is seen as identical to Hevajra. He sends down blessings in the form of a string of seed syllables and divine nectar that are then channeled by means of a cane flute held by Padampa directly into the opening called the Brahma aperture at the top of the head of the visualizer. 

(*Bear in mind that both Virūpa and Sukhāsiddhī were among the fifty-four Indian gurus of Padampa; ten of those Indian gurus were women. You heard me right.)

A few comments: Obviously the visionary practice text is a lot more involved than this, and in fact it is all about those confidential teachings the Vajra Vehicle is famous for, more particularly Completion Stage practices resembling the better known “Six Yogas of Naropa.” If you want to know more, turn to a qualified professional, because my point is not to go into any of that right now. The thing that turned my mind around was the cane flute (sba’i gling-bu) he holds in his left hand. Some people of past and present do mistake the cane for the reed, both being swamp plants, but reeds are flat, while cane has rounded stems that can get large enough to make easily hollowed out tubes suitable for making flutes. I myself, as a child, once tried following a book’s directions for making a flute from cane I picked myself, but making it make the right notes turned out to be a little more difficult than I had anticipated. This was not my first or last failure. Wait, let’s go back to the points I wanted to make.

The episode of imaginative visualization suddenly made me see something in the Alchi Padampa I’d never seen before, so let me see if you see it too. Padampa is depicted as a conduit for the blessings of the group of Great Siddhas, a role he accomplishes by making use of the cane flute as a kind of blowgun to inject blessings into the internal energy system of the practitioner. But the receiving person doesn't need to be visualized or depicted in Alchi. He or she is right there on the spot, seeking blessings just the way worshippers often do when, for instance, they place their heads below the extended right foot of Târâ or walk underneath the bookshelves that hold the scriptural Volumes. This would appear to be one of those instances in which a highly esoteric practice of the Highest Yoga Tantras is at the same time a popular devotional practice. There is nothing low or demeaning about being a conduit for the blessings of the Great Siddhas, is there?

And for anyone who might still harbor doubts about Padampa’s exaltation, I would ask you to have a look at the illustrated robes of another giant Bodhisattva in the Sumtsek, the Avalokiteshvara (Ham’s book, p. 164), find out what you find in the exact same position between the Bodhisattva’s shins, and tell me if you don’t see a painting of an enshrined standing Shakyamuni Buddha. I think we have to find better ways to think about worshippers’ interactions with icons and how such considerations might determine their placement.

•  •  •

Readings and Viewings:

Chiara Bellini, “Some Other Pieces of the Puzzle: The Restoration of the Alchi Sumtsek (A lci gSum btsegs) by Tashi Namgyal (bKra shis rNam rgyal) and Other Considerations on the Stratification and Reinterpretation of the Paintings of this Temple,” Inner and Central Asian Art and Archaeology, vol. 2 (special issue: Judith A. Lerner and Annette L. Juliano, eds., New Research on Central Asian, Buddhist and Far Eastern Art and Archaeology, Brepols 2019), pp. 247-266. Thanks to A.H. for bringing this to my attention. Now I will have to read it. I tried to list the newest publications, on the assumption that they will contain references to earlier publications so I don’t need to include them here.

Peter van Ham with Amy Heller and Likir Monastery, Alchi, Treasure of the Himalayas: Ladakh's Buddhist Masterpiece, Hirmer (Munich 2018), especially plates on pp. 53, 248-249, 384.

There are a number of albums about Alchi published so far, and more are on the way. This one is more recent and available, and probably less pricey than the others. They all have magnificent photographs of the art. On p. 375 is a damaged but especially intriguing 2nd Alchi painting of Padampa, this one from the interior of a Chorten as part of an exclusive grouping of four icons. Two of them are unidentified Vajra Masters, the other local tradition identifies as Rinchen Zangpo and Naropa, and although the one is likely to be Jigten Gonpo, the other is most definitely Padampa. This Padampa is of interest because despite the damage it appears to depict the cane flute, and it also has in the right hand a very clear sprig of some herb, something not so visible in the Sumtsek portrait. I wish I had something to say about the botanical question and I haven't come to any conclusions of my own about the dates of the Alchi Padampa, but let’s say either late 12th or late 16th centuries. Ham's book suggests, as part of its discussion on p. 53, that the Padampa may have been added to a previously blank part of the painting during the 16th century renovation of the Sumtsek Temple.

Sarah Harding, Niguma, Lady of Illusion, Snow Lion (Ithaca 2010). 

If you want to know about the Shangpa Kagyü and its teachings, I send you to this. Niguma and Sukhāsiddhī were two outstanding women leaders at the very origins of the Shangpa lineage.

Amy Heller & Shawo Khacham, “Tibetan Inscriptions at Alchi, Part I: Towards a Reassessment of the Chronology,” contained in: G. Hazod & W. Shen, eds., Tibetan Genealogies: Studies in Memoriam of Guge Tsering Gyalpo (1961-2015), China Tibetology Publishing (Beijing 2018), pp. 535-552.

Rob Linrothe, “Group Portrait: Mahâsiddhas in the Alchi Sumtsek,” contained in: R. Linrothe & H. Sørensen, eds., Embodying Wisdom, Seminar for Buddhist Studies (Copenhagen 2001), pp. 191-206.

Although this article is all about the dhoti of Mañjushri, the very subject of this blog, there is no suggestion on the role Padampa might play in it. Its main value to my mind are in its well grounded and persuasive reflections on the needs of patrons, artists and the viewing Buddhist public, that would explain why the Great Siddhas are being portrayed as a whole group, why it is that so few of the Great Siddhas can be identified by their individual characteristics (maybe eight of them have identifiable iconographic features, and although cartouches were included so that names could be supplied, there is no trace of them ever being written). This author takes the people standing on the ground into account as few others have done, and my own thinking builds on it.

Rob Linrothe, “Padampa Sangye,” contained in: Rob Linrothe, ed., Holy Madness: Portraits of Tantric Siddhas, Rubin Museum of Art (New York 2006), pp. 364-367. 

On p. 364 is a superior print of the Alchi Sumtsek’s Padampa. Figure no. 10.9 in this volume is of special interest as it depicts what might well be a cane flute rather than a shinbone-flute (rkang-gling) as would be the common assumption based on Chö ideas about his iconography (for a closer view, see the enlarged detail of that painting on p. 108). 

Christian Luczanitz, “New Research on Alchi Monastery, Ladakh.” Posted on the YouTube channel of The Ho Center for Buddhist Studies at Stanford on February 8, 2021. 

I also recommend a visit to C.L.'s website. Go here and scroll down a bit before losing an afternoon or two just looking at the photographs of the most impressive works of art. There are pages devoted entirely to Alchi, but I have faith you will find them yourself if you really want to. Tibetanists will want to take special notice of the entire fragmentary text of the long patron's inscription in the Great Stupa.

Dan Martin, “Padampa Sangye: A History of Representation of a South Indian Siddha in Tibet,” contained in: Rob Linrothe, ed., Holy Madness: Portraits of Tantric Siddhas, Rubin Museum of Art (New York 2006), pp. 108-123. This has not a word about the flute.

Su-kha-siddhi’i Lo-rgyus / Rgya Gzhung / Gsang-sgrub Lte-ba Sprul ’Khor / Dbang-chog-rnams, contained in: Gdams-ngag Mdzod, vol. 12, pp. 279–96. Plus another brief text in the same volume: Sukha-siddhi’i Zhal-gdams-kyi Skor dang / Gzer Gsum Gdams-pa-rnams [Bde Gsal ’Od-’bar]. 

For the English we look forward to Sarah Harding’s translation. Here is the most relevant passage with its reference to the cane flute, clipped from the digital etext supplied by TBRC:

For some earlier Tibeto-logic blog entries about Padampa's iconography see these:

https://tibeto-logic.blogspot.com/2020/03/not-padampa.html

https://tibeto-logic.blogspot.com/2011/06/padampa-portrait-painting-middle.html

§  §  §

There have been very many new and enlightening publications related to Padampa and Zhijé tradition in recent months, so many I was contemplating a blog just on that subject, but right now I am pleased to inform you, assuming you haven’t heard, about a complete, first-ever translation of the volume on Zhijé from the Treasury of Precepts, or Gdams-ngag Mdzod done by Sarah Harding — 

Jamgön Kongtrul Lodrö Taye, compiler, Zhije, the Pacification of Suffering, from The Treasury of Precious Instructions: Essential Teachings of the Eight Practice Lineages of Tibet Volume 15, Snow Lion (Boulder 2019), a hardback book in 668 numbered pages. Sarah Harding is translating a volume of Shangpa Kagyü texts from the same collection.

Addition (March 6, 2021)

I inexplicably neglected to list an article that is precisely on the subject of this blog. I mean Rob Linrothe's “Strengthening the Roots: An Indian Yogi in Early Drigung Paintings of Ladakh and Zangskar,” Orientations (May 2007), pp. 65-71. Now I have to go find it and remind myself about what it says. Sorry about this. It does depict several other early Ladakhi representations I didn’t mention, and emphasizes that these largely correspond to the earlier Zhijé types of representations, and not the later Cutting type with damaru and thighbone.

 

Additional addition (March 9, 2021)

I should not have neglected some further examples and discussions of Padampas in early Drigung-related Ladakhi sites in Rob Linrothe, “Conservation Projects in Ladakh, Summer 2008,” Orientations, vol. 40, no. 8 (November 2009), pp. 91-99, and especially pp. 98-99. Thanks to R.L. for bringing it to my attention.

From Saspol Cave

Adding to the additional addition (July 2, 2023)

Christian Luczanits, “Alchi at the Threshold of a New Era in Tibetan Buddhist Art.”

https://projecthimalayanart.rubinmuseum.org/essays/monumental-manjushri-with-mahasiddha-adorned-robe/

I would particularly value reader interactions. Please be so kind as to place your commentary in the comments box and share your thoughts with everyone. I’m sometimes wrong and need to be told so, as we know.

Black Bodhisattvas

Two Mahāmudrā teachers. From a small 14th-century painting once in the Jucker Collection, presently in the collection of the Rubin Museum. Vairocanarakṣita, an important Indian teacher from Orissa, best known for his single-handed translations of Dohā (‘couplet’) songs of the Mahāsiddhas, is on your left, with Padampa on your right. They are identified beyond any possibility for doubt by inscriptions on the reverse side of the painting. Padampa's name is given as Dampa Gyagar Nagpo ('Holy Black Indian' —for this name, look here, on p. 32). For the full picture, look here.

I would like to dedicate today's brief blog, along with the paper linked to it, to both Martin Luther King Day, which was yesterday, and to the inauguration of the first ever African American (or as people my age will probably continue forever to say with pride and respect, disregarding the latest demands of the logo-therapists [those who believe in the theory that changes in reality are brought about by changes in terminology], black) president, which has taken place today. Like some others, I'm sure, I'm a little too old, world-weary and cynical to be a true believer in all that rhetoric of 'hope' and 'change' repeated so often in the pre-election campaign. Nonetheless I've been in an unusually optimistic mood these last few days. Even I can't make myself so cynical as to say that hope is unjustified. What is President Obama's book called, The Audacity of Hope? I see real possibilities that a black head of state — and yes, even one with faults and the ability to make mistakes — might go very far to heal the racial divide in the U.S. Racism is hardly a U.S. monopoly, but its long and shameful history of black slavery and subsequent exploitation and discrimination has practically defined the term for the rest of the globe. And beyond the U.S. borders, we can hope (and if you prefer, pray) that the Obama presidency will be instrumental in bringing richly deserved and long overdue peace to the Middle East. With peace, equality, personal growth and understanding, everyone benefits. Partisanship, chauvinism, hostility, discrimination? We know what they bring all too well.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  Yes indeed!

It may be audacious of me to imagine the attached paper will make people think about things that so far haven't much entered into the minds of those with interests in Tibet; I mean in particular the academic Tibetologists. Although limited to a particular locale at only one point in Tibetan history, it raises issues of ethnic identity and conflict on various levels. I hope it can lead to some rethinking and creative solutions to some old problems, even if I haven't been able to propose very much along those lines. Because it is somewhat technical, I only recommend it to people engaged in Tibetan Studies, or to those who have been following the previous blogs and articles on Padampa.  I tried to make things clear/er, but it isn't for beginners.  If you think you want to read more, press here to get started. Meanwhile, whether you feel like reading it or not, remember to be thankful for air and other simple gifts.

Warmly recommended reading:

Janice D. Willis, Dreaming Me — Black, Baptist and Buddhist: An African American Woman's Spiritual Journey, was first published in 2001 by Riverhead Books. The author is a professor at Wesleyan University. Written in a clear style, this book should prove appealing to practically everyone I know. Sorry, but I loaned my copy to my sister, and don't expect to see it again any time soon. Here is the kind of commercial link I don't usually like to give.

President Obama neglected to mention Buddhists in his Inaugural acceptance speech.  I don't think it means anything, and won't make an issue of it.  But Buddhism has over time achieved a high public profile in the U.S. (here's proof if any were needed), and probably deserves mentioning as much as those he did mention:  

"For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness.  We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers.  We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth..."

One country — guess which one — felt free to edit out (to censor) parts of his speech that endangered their susceptible citizens.

I would also like to point out the website “Rainbow Dharma,” and particularly this page, "Black Buddha: Bringing the Tradition Home."  The interviewee, with the Tibetan name Choyin Rangdrol (this could be approximately translated, “The Realm of Dharmas Self-Liberated”), is a teacher of the Tibetan Nyingmapa school active in the area of Oakland, California.  I don't know much in particular about him or his teaching activities, but I'd like to learn more.  My favorite quotes: "The suffering is on both sides!" and "...being human is enough, and the rest is a footnote."

Essential reading on Padampa iconography:  Rob Linrothe, Strengthening the Roots: An Indian Yogi in Early Drigung Paintings of Ladakh and Zangskar, Orientations, vol. vol. 38, no. 4 (May 2007), pp. 65-71.

Are you wondering what the Tibetan "Obama" has to say these days?  If so, walk on over to "High Peaks Pure Earth" blog and have a look at this.

For more remarkable artworks featuring Padampa, see this link (second figure from your left; that's Virūpa on your far right... identifications for all four figures, see Linrothe's article, p. 69) and this one, too.  A small collection of Padampa  artworks are here.

§  §  §

Quotes of the day

Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.

— Rev. Martin Luther King

These things are old.
These things are true.

— Barack Hussein Obama,

President of the U.S.

January 20, 2009

Full moon over the rotunda of the Capital Building 

in Washington DC on January 10, 2009