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Lot Essay
This extraordinary thangka by the Tenth Karmapa, Choying Dorje, stands out as one of the very few surviving examples bearing an inscription that honors both his artistic legacy and spiritual authority. Among the limited number of known inscribed thangkas attributed to him, this painting is especially significant, not only for its aesthetic mastery but for the rare presence of an inscription, which situates it within a select group of works where authorship, place, and date are explicitly recorded.
The subject is the Oath-Bound Protector (Damchen), rendered in the nag thang or black-ground painting tradition, a visual mode typically reserved for wrathful deities. The inscription in gold identifies the Tenth Karmapa as the source of the image, though the formal and honorific language, similar to that found in the Marpa thangka (von Schroeder, The Tenth Karmapa Tibet's Greatest Artist, Hong Kong, 2025, pp. 198-9, P1), indicates it was likely written by a devotee rather than by the Karmapa or his direct attendant. Despite this, the attribution remains critical in understanding the painting’s place within Choying Dorje’s oeuvre.
While the genre and subject matter are distinct from his other works, the techniques used in this composition show strong affinities with the 1660 painting set attributed to him. The palette, dominated by deep blacks, rusty reds, and warm browns, creates a striking visual intensity, heightened by ethereal atmospheric effects that give the painting an almost dream-like, otherworldly quality. The dramatic contrasts between opaque and translucent elements, warm and cool tones, and dynamic versus still forms generate a surreal, nearly cinematic tension throughout the scene.
David Jackson has commented on the unusually affectionate and realistic treatment of animals in this thangka, a hallmark of Choying Dorje’s style. The rendering of the goat, the bear, and the spectral white figure emerging from the smoke suggests not only technical mastery but also a unique emotional sensitivity. Particularly noteworthy is the use of colour and brush technique: pigment is applied in a manner reminiscent of Chinese ink painting, with subtle tonal variations achieved by layering pale, creamy hues over slightly darker underlayers.
This method is especially effective in the sea of blood the deity rides across, painted in graded reds reminiscent of the green tonal variations in the decorative details of Choying Dorje’s other works. These reds are further intensified by the juxtaposition of cool blue rocks and the smoky, ink-washed background, out of which bursts of flame and billowing smoke frame the central figure. Within the smoke, a ghostly white form materialises just above the Damchen’s arms, which hold the symbolic blacksmith’s hammer and bellows, its hands splayed in a haunting, almost hallucinatory gesture.
The animals’ fur is depicted using soft, boneless pigment washes, especially evident in the dappled coat of the bear cub and the delicate shading on the goat’s muzzle. Meanwhile, the deity’s own body, rendered in unpigmented black silk ground, is defined only by light blue outlines and quick, expressive strokes that give volume and dynamism without compromising the spectral quality of the form. The blacksmith’s hammer, rendered in flat yellow-gold, stands in bold contrast to the subtle shading elsewhere, and this contrast is characteristic of other thangkas bearing Choying Dorjes inscription.
The inscription not only attributes the work to the Tenth Karmapa but provides crucial information regarding its date and location. It records that the painting was created in the “Land of Gura Sharka” in Minyak (southern Kham), specifically in Banghe village, Daocheng County, Sichuan, placing the work geographically and narrowing the possible dates within the Tibetan calendrical Sheep Years of the Karmapa’s lifetime to 1655. This aligns with historical accounts of the Karmapa’s presence in the region during his exile, particularly a documented visit to Minyak in 1655.
Further corroboration comes from the Karmapa’s biography, which records that in the same year he painted a thangka of Damchen Dorje Lekpa in the style of Jeu (Byeu). Given that the figure in this painting is clearly labeled as Damchen in the inscription, and carries the hammer and bellows typical of the blacksmith emanation Damchen Garwai Nakpo, the identification seems well-founded. The rest of the figure’s name in the inscription, “the great long-haired one,” appears to be descriptive rather than a formal epithet, but corresponds with the deity’s iconography found in other Tibetan sources.
As Shakabpa notes in his description of wrathful figures in the Jeu style, such deities are often portrayed as short, with large heads and bellies, and when rendered in dark blue or black, are outlined in white or pale blue, details that precisely match the stylistic choices in this painting.
This thangka is not only a testament to Choying Dorje’s technical virtuosity but also a profound expression of visionary creativity. The inscription elevates its importance, placing it firmly within a rarefied body of signed and attributed works and providing essential historical context. More than a devotional object, this painting is a powerful atmospheric experience, its inky veils of smoke, spectral forms, and vibrant pigments drawing the viewer into a liminal world where wrathful protectors emerge from fire and mist. Few thangkas achieve such an ethereal, dream-like presence while remaining so grounded in historical specificity and technical mastery.
The subject is the Oath-Bound Protector (Damchen), rendered in the nag thang or black-ground painting tradition, a visual mode typically reserved for wrathful deities. The inscription in gold identifies the Tenth Karmapa as the source of the image, though the formal and honorific language, similar to that found in the Marpa thangka (von Schroeder, The Tenth Karmapa Tibet's Greatest Artist, Hong Kong, 2025, pp. 198-9, P1), indicates it was likely written by a devotee rather than by the Karmapa or his direct attendant. Despite this, the attribution remains critical in understanding the painting’s place within Choying Dorje’s oeuvre.
While the genre and subject matter are distinct from his other works, the techniques used in this composition show strong affinities with the 1660 painting set attributed to him. The palette, dominated by deep blacks, rusty reds, and warm browns, creates a striking visual intensity, heightened by ethereal atmospheric effects that give the painting an almost dream-like, otherworldly quality. The dramatic contrasts between opaque and translucent elements, warm and cool tones, and dynamic versus still forms generate a surreal, nearly cinematic tension throughout the scene.
David Jackson has commented on the unusually affectionate and realistic treatment of animals in this thangka, a hallmark of Choying Dorje’s style. The rendering of the goat, the bear, and the spectral white figure emerging from the smoke suggests not only technical mastery but also a unique emotional sensitivity. Particularly noteworthy is the use of colour and brush technique: pigment is applied in a manner reminiscent of Chinese ink painting, with subtle tonal variations achieved by layering pale, creamy hues over slightly darker underlayers.
This method is especially effective in the sea of blood the deity rides across, painted in graded reds reminiscent of the green tonal variations in the decorative details of Choying Dorje’s other works. These reds are further intensified by the juxtaposition of cool blue rocks and the smoky, ink-washed background, out of which bursts of flame and billowing smoke frame the central figure. Within the smoke, a ghostly white form materialises just above the Damchen’s arms, which hold the symbolic blacksmith’s hammer and bellows, its hands splayed in a haunting, almost hallucinatory gesture.
The animals’ fur is depicted using soft, boneless pigment washes, especially evident in the dappled coat of the bear cub and the delicate shading on the goat’s muzzle. Meanwhile, the deity’s own body, rendered in unpigmented black silk ground, is defined only by light blue outlines and quick, expressive strokes that give volume and dynamism without compromising the spectral quality of the form. The blacksmith’s hammer, rendered in flat yellow-gold, stands in bold contrast to the subtle shading elsewhere, and this contrast is characteristic of other thangkas bearing Choying Dorjes inscription.
The inscription not only attributes the work to the Tenth Karmapa but provides crucial information regarding its date and location. It records that the painting was created in the “Land of Gura Sharka” in Minyak (southern Kham), specifically in Banghe village, Daocheng County, Sichuan, placing the work geographically and narrowing the possible dates within the Tibetan calendrical Sheep Years of the Karmapa’s lifetime to 1655. This aligns with historical accounts of the Karmapa’s presence in the region during his exile, particularly a documented visit to Minyak in 1655.
Further corroboration comes from the Karmapa’s biography, which records that in the same year he painted a thangka of Damchen Dorje Lekpa in the style of Jeu (Byeu). Given that the figure in this painting is clearly labeled as Damchen in the inscription, and carries the hammer and bellows typical of the blacksmith emanation Damchen Garwai Nakpo, the identification seems well-founded. The rest of the figure’s name in the inscription, “the great long-haired one,” appears to be descriptive rather than a formal epithet, but corresponds with the deity’s iconography found in other Tibetan sources.
As Shakabpa notes in his description of wrathful figures in the Jeu style, such deities are often portrayed as short, with large heads and bellies, and when rendered in dark blue or black, are outlined in white or pale blue, details that precisely match the stylistic choices in this painting.
This thangka is not only a testament to Choying Dorje’s technical virtuosity but also a profound expression of visionary creativity. The inscription elevates its importance, placing it firmly within a rarefied body of signed and attributed works and providing essential historical context. More than a devotional object, this painting is a powerful atmospheric experience, its inky veils of smoke, spectral forms, and vibrant pigments drawing the viewer into a liminal world where wrathful protectors emerge from fire and mist. Few thangkas achieve such an ethereal, dream-like presence while remaining so grounded in historical specificity and technical mastery.