All his life Dai pursued a dry, softly textured style, creating evocative images of Daoist reclusion and high-minded self-cultivation. This album, one of the finest examples of Dai’s art, is stylistically datable to his late maturity, circa 1690. In traditional fashion, the album concludes with a snowscape. Dai’s final words on that leaf makes it clear that the intent of his painting is self-expression as well as representation.
I clean my inkstone not just to paint, But to reveal the images in my mind.
Due to rights restrictions, this image cannot be enlarged, viewed at full screen, or downloaded.
Open Access
As part of the Met's Open Access policy, you can freely copy, modify and distribute this image, even for commercial purposes.
API
Public domain data for this object can also be accessed using the Met's Open Access API.
Regarding [the officials] Gao [Tao] and Kui versus [the hermits] Chao [Fu] and Xu [You], Serving and withdrawing are essentially the same. While heaven’s bounty does indeed exist within the mountains, Each man has to follow his own will. The energy between heaven and earth circulates through the caves and valleys. Laughing to myself [I think], “Why don’t I use this old brush to penetrate them and show people!”
This artwork is meant to be viewed from right to left. Scroll left to view more.
Regarding [the officials] Gao [Tao] and Kui versus [the hermits] Chao [Fu] and Xu [You], Serving and withdrawing are essentially the same. While heaven’s bounty does indeed exist within the mountains, Each man has to follow his own will. The energy between heaven and earth circulates through the caves and valleys. Laughing to myself [I think], “Why don’t I use this old brush to penetrate them and show people!”
The exquisite zither suddenly sounds mellow; the turbulent waterfall sounds particularly extraordinary. Whose hands can bring forth [music like] the timely rain? In a lofty studio I chant poetry to myself. This is the method that Zhonggui [Wu Zhen, 1280–1354] left us. I regret my painting is unable to resemble his, but it preserves his concept; it will do.
The sound of waves swirls through the blue sky; as waterfalls brush against the dark green rocks. With a tranquil mind, I always come alone, listening carefully, I never feel satiated. Listening to the ethereal sounds and the heavenly wind cleanses away worldly thoughts. One should know that I, a rustic old man, have left traces of them in my paintings.
Pines and peaks contend in fantastic appearance; A house sits on the steep cliff. Just as clouds shift from dark to light, everything keeps changing; Even the rainmaker cannot stop this. Only the Heavenly Citadel and Lotus Peaks [of Mount Huang] have this appearance, which is not something that can be captured by the man-made Six Principles [of painting]. I casually emulate their general likeness.
The feeling of mountains is expansive; the sound of streams pitter patters. From high above wafts the sound of the temple bell; below I hear a flute from a fisherman's boat.
Copying Baishi Weng [Shen Zhou, 1427-1509]
The rocky shore lies across from my wood gate; to venture deep into it would wear out my hemp sandals. The waterfall comes flying from beyond the clouds; its sound reaches the studio above the woods.
In imitation of Yifeng Laoren [Huan Gongwang, 1269–1354]
This is not Mi Yuanhui [Mi Youren, 1086–1165], nor is it Gao Yanjing [Gao Kegong, 1248–1310]. My dry brush plays with the brooding mists, simply to reveal the tranquility of the mountains.
Among all my "wintery-weather" companions, who will k eep me company in my wanderings? Unable to climb up th steep cliffs, an old crane flies down at the height of autumn.
Pale mists highlight the distant peaks; the peaceful village catches the glow of the setting sun. You can imagine that deep in the bamboo grove vulgar visitors are naturally rare.
In imitation of Autumn Mountains by Master Ju [Juran, act. Ca. 960–995]
I bring [my pet] crane along in my fishing boat, but a flock of wild geeze is startled and takes flight. Other living things and I cannot ignore one another; so this fishing rod is of no use. Fishing requires a calculating mind. Nevertheless, fish and birds are hard to deceive. I raise the issue with seekers of the Way for a laugh.
Pure and severe, the air suddenly turns harsh; across a thousand cliffs pines appear like shadows through the snow. I clean my inkstone not just to paint, but to reveal the images in my mind.
The Song dynasty [960–1279] method of depicting snow has largely been lost to most contemporary [artist]. I've tried to imitate it, but don't know if I've caught it nor not. Painted by Dai Benxiao, Woodcutter of Mount Ying'e of Liyang [Anhui] by the ancient Pavilion for Pleasing One's Mind.
How can I get the qualities of [the pines, which endure] the snow and frost, to abide in me? Laboring hard at poems to send forth their elegance, I set up high by a slab of rock alone.
[The work of] stubborn Ni [Ni Zan, 1306–1374] was overly simple and desolate, so I have changed his methods. It is not necessary to limit oneself to one style.
Artwork Details
Use your arrow keys to navigate the tabs below, and your tab key to choose an item
Inscription: Artist’s inscriptions and signatures[1]
Leaf A (4 columns in semi-cursive script):
Regarding [the officials] Gao [Tao] and Kui versus [the hermits] Chao [Fu] and Xu [You],[2] Serving and withdrawing are essentially the same. While heaven’s bounty does indeed exist within the mountains; Each man has to follow his own will.
The energy between heaven and earth circulates through the caves and valleys. Laughing to myself [I think], “Why don’t I use this old brush to penetrate them and show people!”
Pines and peaks contend in fantastic appearance; A house sits on the steep cliff. Just as clouds shift from dark to light, everything keeps changing;[3] Even the rainmaker cannot stop this.[4]
Only the Heavenly Citadel and Lotus Peaks [of Mount Huang] have this appearance, which is not something that can be captured by the man-made Six Principles [of painting]. I casually emulate their general likeness.[5] Benxiao
The sound of waves swirls through the blue sky; As waterfalls brush against the dark-green rocks. With a tranquil mind I always come alone, Listening carefully I never feel satiated.
Listening to the ethereal sounds and the heavenly wind cleanses away worldly thoughts. One should know that I, a rustic old man, have left traces of them in my paintings. Old Woodcutter of Mount Ying’e
The exquisite zither suddenly sounds mellow; The turbulent waterfall sounds particularly extraordinary. Whose hands can bring forth [music like] the timely rain? In a lofty studio I chant poetry to myself.
This is the method that Zhonggui [Wu Zhen, 1280–1354] left us. I regret my painting is unable to resemble his, but it preserves his concept; it will do. Ying’e
淨琴忽覺潤，驚瀑響尤奇。 誰袖為霖手，高齋獨詠詩。 仲圭遺法，愧不能似，姑存其意可也。 鷹阿
Leaf E (8 columns in semi-cursive script):
This is not Mi Yuanhui [Mi Youren, 1086–1165], Nor is it Gao Yanjing [Gao Kegong, 1248–1310]. My dry brush plays with the brooding mists, Simply to reveal the tranquility of the mountains.
Ying’e
不是米元暉，亦非高彥敬。 枯穎弄氤氳，聊以見山靜。 鷹阿
Leaf F (8 columns in semi-cursive script):
The rocky shore lies across from my wooden gate; To venture deep into it would wear out my hemp sandals. The waterfall comes flying from beyond the clouds; Its sound reaches the studio above the woods.
In imitation of Yifeng Laoren [Huang Gongwang, 1269–1354]. Benxiao
石岸隔柴關，深討倦芒屩。 飛來雲外泉，響入林端閣。 仿一峰老人。本孝
Leaf G (4 columns in semi-cursive script):
The feeling of mountains is expansive; The sound of streams pitter patters. From high above wafts the sound of the temple bell;[6] Below I hear a flute from a fisherman’s boat.
I bring [my pet] crane along in my fishing boat; A flock of wild geese is suddenly startled and takes flight. Other living things and I cannot ignore one another; So this fishing rod is of no use.
Fishing requires a calculating mind. Even fish and birds are hard to deceive. I raise this issue with seekers of the Way for a laugh. Benxiao
Pale mists highlight the distant peaks; The peaceful village catches the glow of the setting sun. You can imagine that deep in the bamboo grove Vulgar visitors are naturally rare.
In imitation of Autumn Mountains by Master Ju [Juran, active ca. 960-95]. Woodcutter of Mount Ying’e, Benxiao
澹靄明遙岫，閒村掛夕暉。 可知深竹裏，俗駕自來稀。 仿巨師 《秋山》。鷹阿山樵夫本孝
Leaf J (3 columns in semi-cursive script):
Among all my “wintry-weather” companions, Who will keep me company in my wanderings? Unable to climb up the steep cliffs, An old crane flies down at the height of autumn.
Woodcutter of Mount Ying’e
皆是歲寒侶，何人堪共遊。 巉巖攀不及，老鶴下高秋。 鷹阿山樵長
Leaf K (6 columns in semi-cursive script):
How can I get the qualities of [the pines, which endure] the snow and frost To abide in me? Laboring hard at poems to spread their elegance, I sit high by a slab of rock alone.
[The work of] stubborn Ni [Ni Zan, 1306-1374] was overly simple and desolate, so I have changed his methods. It is not necessary to limit oneself to one style. Ying’e
安得雪霜姿，相依在一處。 苦吟播芳風，片石獨高據。 倪迂過於簡寂，故變其法，不必局於一家也。鷹阿
Leaf L (7 columns in semi-cursive script):
Pure and severe, the air suddenly turns harsh; Across a thousand cliffs pines appear like shadows through the snow. I clean my inkstone not just to paint, But to reveal the images in my mind.
The Song dynasty [960-1279] method of depicting snow has largely been lost to most contemporary [artists]. I’ve tried to imitate it, but don’t know if I’ve caught it or not. Painted by Dai Benxiao, Woodcutter of Mount Ying’e, of Liyang [Anhui] by the ancient Pavilion for Pleasing One’s Mind.
Ying’e 鷹阿 (Leaves A, D, E, G, H, L) Xiexin 寫心 (Leaves A, B, H) Xijia 夕佳 (Leaves A, J, K) Zhenshan wei shi 真山為師 (Leaf B) Dai 戴 (Leaves B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L) Ben Xiao 本、孝 (Leaf C) Wuzi 戊子 (Leaf D) Tiaotiao Gu 迢迢谷 (Leaf F) Shouyan 守硯 (Leaf F) Huasui 畫髓 (Leaf F) Benxiao 本孝 (Leaves G, I, L) Wuzhan 務旃 (Leaf I) Po qin 破琴 (Leaf J) Shiwai shan 世外山 (Leaf K)
Label strip
Weng Tonghe 翁同龢（1830–1904）, 1 column in semi-cursive script, undated:
戴鷹阿畫。缾生藏。 ________________________ [1] Translations from Department records. [2] Gao Tao 皋陶and Kui 夔 were exemplary officials in the court of the legendary monarch Shun 舜; see The Classic of Documents 《書. 舜典》. Chao Fu 巢父 and Xu You 許由were two hermits living in the time of the legendary monarch Yao 堯. It was said that when Yao wanted to pass his throne to them, they turned it down. They have long symbolized hermits who refuse government service. See. Huang Fumi’s 皇甫謐 (215–282) Biography of Lofty Men 《高士傳》. [3] The phrase “white cloth or dark dogs” 白衣蒼狗 indicates the possibility of a sudden change for the worse. It comes from a poem by Du Fu (712–770)〈可嘆〉: “The clouds floating in the sky resemble white cloth; suddenly they change into dark dogs” (天上浮雲如白衣，斯須改變如蒼狗 ). [4] For Pinghao 萍號, the “rainmaker,” see the poem Heavenly Questions 《天問》 attributed to Qu Yuan (340–278 BC). The poem, which poses a series of questions about early history and mythology, asks: “Pinghao causes it to rain, how does he do it? (萍號起雨，何以興之) “ [5] For a different translation of the poem, see James Cahill, ed. Shadows of Mount Huang: Chinese Paintings and Printing of the Anhui School. Exhibition catalogue. Berkeley; Detroit: University Art Museum, Berkeley; Detroit Institute of the Arts, 1981, cat. no. 55, p. 143. [6] In place of “temple,” Dai Benxiao uses the term “Vulture Peak” (Jiu Ling 鷲嶺), the name of the Indian mountain where Sakyamuni lived and preached, which became metaphor for any Buddhist temple.
[ Ssu Isabel and I-hsueh Hugo Weng , until 1989; sold to MMA]
New York. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. "Traditional Scholarly Values at the End of the Qing Dynasty: The Collection of Weng Tonghe (1830–1904)," June 30–January 3, 1999.
New York. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. "Dreams of Yellow Mountain: Landscapes of Survival in Seventeenth-Century China," September 13, 2003–February 22, 2004.
New York. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. "Bridging East and West: The Chinese Diaspora and Lin Yutang," September 15, 2007–February 10, 2008.
New York. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. "The Art of the Chinese Album," September 6, 2014–March 29, 2015.
New York. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. "Streams and Mountains without End: Landscape Traditions of China," August 26, 2017–January 6, 2019.
The Met's Libraries and Research Centers provide unparalleled resources for research and welcome an international community of students and scholars.
The Met Collection API is where all makers, creators, researchers, and dreamers can connect to the most up-to-date data and public domain images for The Met collection. Open Access data and public domain images are available for unrestricted commercial and noncommercial use without permission or fee.
Feedback
We continue to research and examine historical and cultural context for objects in The Met collection. If you have comments or questions about this object record, please complete and submit this form. The Museum looks forward to receiving your comments.
The Met's collection of Asian art—more than 35,000 objects, ranging in date from the third millennium B.C. to the twenty-first century—is one of the largest and most comprehensive in the world.
