Visualizing the Spirit Consciousness: Reinterpreting the Medicine Buddha Tableau in Mogao Cave 220 (642 CE)

Abstract

This paper considers how Buddhist art of the early Tang dynasty was shaped by concerns with states of consciousness and transmigrating spiritual entities. Focusing on the Medicine Buddha (Skt. Bhaiṣajyaguru) tableau in the main chamber of Mogao Cave 220, dated to 642 CE and among the earliest full wall transformation tableaux at Dunhuang, I propose that the tableau depicts a structured process centered around the transmigrating spiritual entity of spirit consciousness (shenshi 神識) and its transformations that were visually expressed by lighting devices. Other elements in the tableau, such as the dancers and bodhisattvas seated in the pond, are also part and parcel to this visual project of transformation, as indicated through the colors of their attire and the types of dance being performed. The spirit consciousness could be visualized through lighting devices in the Medicine Buddha tableau because of the associations of lamps with vital, spiritual parts of humans since the first century CE. More importantly, the central role of the spirit consciousness in the Medicine Buddha tableau shows that such Buddhist murals depicting rituals and performances situated among grand edifices could be visual expressions of states of spiritual entities and their transformations. Seemingly intangible spiritual entities in Buddhist art were thus inextricably intertwined with and visually expressed through physical objects and their representations. To this end, this study is a first step towards understanding the pictorial program of Mogao Cave 220 and similar cases through explorations of cognitive templates that informed the creation and production of Buddhist art, with the spirit consciousness as a case in point.

1. Introduction

Can life be conceived of and sustained without a physical body? If yes, through what means? The answer Buddhism would offer is that life extends beyond the body as a spiritual entity transmigrating from one reincarnation to another. Yet the exact nature of this transmigrating entity and how it should be approached have sparked much debate because of Buddhism’s rejection of a permanently existing, unchanging self. While such debates are mostly studied through textual accounts, given Buddhism’s reputation as a “religion of images, or xiangjiao 像教” (Wang 2005, p. xix; T03, no. 186, pp. 516c29–517a2), a key question to consider is how were such transmigrating spiritual entities beyond the expiration of the physical imagined, understood, and pictorialized? As I shall propose in this study, one of the best examples for understanding how such transmigrating spiritual entities were imagined and pictorialized is found in a Buddhist cave at the Mogao Caves, Dunhuang, excavated in the mid-seventh century.

Among the many caves at Dunhuang with well-preserved murals and sculptures, Mogao Cave 220 remains a unique case. Initially constructed in 642 CE, Cave 220 is the first known case at the site of a single family claiming exclusive patronage over a cave (Ning 2004, p. 5).1 Square in plan with a rectangular main niche in the west wall and a truncated pyramidal ceiling (Figure 1; ibid., p. 3), the original murals on the four side walls of Cave 220’s main chamber exemplify the cosmopolitan flair of the capital’s style (ibid., p. 5),2 the introduction of which to Dunhuang was made possible by the donor family’s close connections to the Tang capital Chang’an (Rong 2018, p. 2). While the composition of the west wall is relatively conventional with a seated sculpture of the historic Buddha Śākyamuni accompanied by sculptures and murals of attending bodhisattvas, heavenly guardians, and Śākyamuni’s Ten Great Disciples (Figure 2; Ning 2004, p. 4), the other three walls are covered with the first full wall depictions of transformation tableaux at Dunhuang (Feng 2018, p. 52; Ning 2004, pp. 4, 12).

An innovation reflecting the shift in Buddhist art within a matter of decades from the end of the sixth century to the seventh century, the entire surface of the wall is now used for the depiction of a single theme instead of a collection of compartmentalized sections with different contents. The mural on the south wall depicts the Western Paradise of Amitābha (Figure 3; Feng 2018, p. 56), and the east wall, where the entrance is located, depicts the famous debate between the enlightened layman Vimalakīrti and the Bodhisattva Mañjuśrī, with Mañjuśrī and Vimalakīrti placed on either side of the entrance (Figure 4). The tableau on the north wall features seven standing images of the Medicine Buddha (Skt. Bhaiṣajyaguru, Ch. Yaoshifo 藥師佛) as part of the Medicine Buddha’s healing ritual (Figure 5; Ning 2004, p. 13).3

This study focuses on the Medicine Buddha tableau covering the entire north wall of the main chamber of Mogao Cave 220 and proposes a new interpretation of the tableau, suggesting that it depicts a structured process centered around transmigrating spiritual entities known as the spirit consciousness (shenshi 神識/shishen 識神). In the tableau, the spiritual consciousness and its transformations are visually expressed through the lighting devices, revealing one possible strategy for visualizing conceptions of life without the physical body. The central role of the spirit consciousness in the Medicine Buddha tableau shows that such murals depicting rituals and performances situated among grand edifices could also be visual expressions of nebulous and seemingly intangible states of consciousness through the use of certain material objects. The Medicine Buddha tableau thus not only depicts the healing ritual for worshipping the Medicine Buddha, but also presents a topography in which transmigrating spiritual entities are located, imagined, and pictorialized.

The earliest seventh century murals in Mogao Cave 220 have been meticulously studied by scholars since their discovery in the 1940s, when the tenth century murals on all four walls of the main chamber were removed. The first comprehensive introduction of the cave is found in Akiyama Terukazu’s volume, Arts of China, which identified the iconography on the north, east, and south walls of the main chamber as Vimalakīrti, the Pure Land of Amitābha, and the Pure Land of Bhaiṣajyaguru respectively (Terukazu and Saburō 1969, p. 14). This identification remains the standard iconography for the cave. Based on Akiyama’s iconographic identification, scholars have also analyzed the iconographic themes of the tableaux on each wall by situating them within the larger history of iconographic developments (Feng 2018; Katsuki 1992, pp. 67–86; Yagi and Li 2012, pp. 9–15, 125–129).

The most notable monograph on Cave 220 remains Ning Qiang’s Art, Religion, and Politics in Medieval China, which approaches the contents of the cave from the perspective of social art history. Identifying the cave as inaugurating the tradition of family caves at the site, Ning explains the iconographic choices in Cave 220 with reference to historical events. Particularly relevant for this present study is Ning’s emphasis on the healing ritual of the Medicine Buddha on the north wall, likely related to the patron family’s participation in warfare on the northwest frontiers in the 630s (Ning 2004, p. 5). While the seven images of the Buddha and the lamp-lighting scenes directly connect the tableau to the Medicine Buddha, whether the tableau depicts the Medicine Buddha’s Pure Land in the east has also been a subject of heated debate.4 Other studies of the Medicine Buddha tableau of Cave 220 have mostly focused on the lighting devices and the performers. For instance, Sha Wutian has studied the dancers and musicians in the Medicine Buddha tableau as examples for understanding contemporaneous nighttime music and dance in the Tang dynasty (618–907 CE, Sha 2015, pp. 34–44).

Building on the excellent work laid out by previous scholarship, I revisit the details of the contents of the Medicine Buddha tableau in Cave 220 to propose a new interpretation, suggesting that the tableau actually depicts a scene centered around the spirit consciousness (shenshi 神識/shishen 識神), in which a transformation process is visually outlined in steps through the lighting devices. A neologism of the third century CE likely coined as an equivalent of the Sanskrit term vijñāna “consciousness,”5 the spirit consciousness offered a solution to an important tension central to the theory of reincarnation in Buddhism: if there is no permanent self, as stated by Buddhist doctrines, then what is the transmigrating entity that connects different lifetimes (Radich 2016, p. 105)? The spirit consciousness could explain transmigrating entity because it survives death as a non-immortal entity, which does not contradict the unchanging, permanently existing self that Buddhists take issue with (T02, no. 125, pp. 642c20–643a24).6

With lighting devices as a mediated way of representing the spirit consciousness and its transformations brought about by the Medicine Buddha, the Medicine Buddha tableau of Cave 220 offers a solution to how life beyond the expiration of the physical body could be imagined and pictorialized. By suggesting that the spirit consciousness is the protagonist of the tableau, this study also proposes a shift in focus from specific iconographic themes to the underlying cognitive models informing Buddhist art in the early medieval period. The study begins with an introduction of the spirit consciousness, which usually corresponds to the Sanskrit term vijñāna “consciousness,” and why the spirit consciousness is the protagonist of the Medicine Buddha tableau instead of the physical body. It then analyzes details of the Medicine Buddha tableau in Cave 220 to show that the tableau actually depicts a multi-stage transformation process centered around the lighting devices. The study concludes with further reflections on how and why lighting devices could visually represent the spirit consciousness, offering a way for this nebulous entity to be visualized and transformed in a structured process. The central role of the spirit consciousness in the Medicine Buddha tableau shows that such Buddhist murals depicting rituals and performances situated among grand edifices could be visual expressions of nebulous states of consciousness through the use of certain material objects. The seemingly intangible states of consciousness and mind are thus inextricably intertwined with and visually expressed through physical objects in Buddhist art of early medieval China, and the Medicine Buddha tableau of Cave 220 is a case in point.

2. Lamp-Lighting Ritual for the Medicine Buddha and the Spirit Consciousness

Symmetrical in composition, the Medicine Buddha tableau in Cave 220 features seven standing images of the Medicine Buddha accompanied by bodhisattvas on a vermilion red platform peppered with round white dots (Figure 5).7 An incense burner decorated with dazzling gems and the flaming cintāmaṇi jewel is placed in front of each of the six Buddhas, except for the one in the center. Luxuriant jeweled canopies hover above the Buddhas, fluttering in the wind along with long, multi-colored banners on either side of the terrace as flying apsaras shuttle back and forth between them. Twelve yakṣa generals—guardian deities associated with the Medicine Buddha—are divided into two groups of six and flank the standing Buddhas (Ning 2004, pp. 24–25). The azure platform that the yakṣa generals stand on extends all the way to the foreground, creating an almost stage-like setting for the musicians, dancers, and bodhisattvas attending to lighting devices.

Based on the unique seven standing Buddhas and the date in the inscription, this tableau has been identified as depictions of the Medicine Buddha with Dharmagupta’s 616 CE translation of the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra 佛說藥師如來本願經 [Sūtra on the Fundamental Vows of the Master of Medicine Tathāgata] as the scriptural basis (ibid., p. 13). Literally the “Master of Healing,” the Medicine Buddha’s ability to help one attain longevity is especially emphasized in the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra, making the text immensely popular since the fifth century CE (Birnbaum 1979, p. 57). According to the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra, if a patient wants to recover from a severe illness, they should chant this sūtra and set up a ritual by “lighting forty-nine lamps, making seven images of the Medicine Buddha, and placing seven lamps as large as wheels in front of each image” (T. 14, no. 449, p. 404a7-9).8

The presence of this lamp-lighting healing ritual from the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra in the north wall of Cave 220 was argued by Ning Qiang to be the main contents of the north wall Medicine Buddha tableau (Ning 2004, pp. 20–37). Given the healing capacity of the Medicine Buddha, it seems natural to assume that this ritual pertains to the physical body. Revisiting the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra, however, shows that a different project may be at play. The Medicine Buddha’s healing powers do not directly heal one’s physical body:

“In the future, there will be sentient beings suffering from severe illnesses… and signs of death will appear. … With his body lying in its original position, he is seized by the messengers of Yama, who lead his spirit consciousness (shenshi 神識) before that King of the Law. … King Yama will interrogate this person … According to the positive and negative karma, he shall judge him. … If that sick person’s relatives, close friends, and acquaintances are able to take refuge in the Lord Master of Medicine, the Lapis Lazuli Radiance Tathāgata for that person’s sake, then that person’s spirit consciousness may be returned to his body [immediately]. He will clearly remember what he has experienced, as if it were a dream. When his spirit consciousness returns after passing through seven, twenty-one, thirty-five, or forty-nine days, he will remember all of his good and bad karma. Due to his personally witnessing and experiencing the fruits and retributions of his karma, he will not create bad karma for himself [in the future]” (T14, no. 449, p. 403c16-29).9

This passage explains how the Medicine Buddha’s powers work to save those on the brink of death and is followed by instructions on how to properly pay obeisance to the Medicine Buddha through the lamp-lighting ritual to be set up in front of seven images of the Medicine Buddha (T14, no. 449, p. 404a1-10). The Medicine Buddha does not directly work on the physical body, which remains in one location and does not move all. The protagonist given more emphasis here is actually the spirit consciousness. As stated in the passage above, it is the spirit consciousness that travels to the court of King Yama for judgment and it is only able to return to the physical body because of the Medicine Buddha’s powers.10

What is the spirit consciousness and why is it evoked as the protagonist in the lamp-lighting ritual in Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra? Prior to the arrival of Buddhism, the Chinese already had notions regarding the spiritual parts of humans that could survive death of the physical body. The predominant theory involved the dual concepts of the hun 魂 and the po 魄. Both are considered the source of knowledge and intelligence for human beings and death comes when the hun and po leave the body to go their separate ways (Yü 1987, pp. 365, 371). According to the Book of Rites (Ch. Liji 禮記), at the moment of death the hun, “intelligent spirit,” ascends to heaven, while the po, “animal soul,” returns to the underground (Sun 1989, vol. 2, p. 714).

The spirit consciousness is similar to the hun in that both are considered to be awareness-oriented, but the most significant distinction between the two is that the spirit consciousness transmigrates across lifetimes, while the hun does not. The term started to appear since the fourth and fifth centuries in scriptures such as the Dharmapāda 出曜經 (tr. 308 CE) translated by Zhu Fonian 竺佛念 (fl. 373–413), the Saṃyuktāgama 雑阿含経 (tr. 435 CE) by Guṇabhadra (394–468), and the Ekottarāgama 增一阿含經 by Saṃghadeva (fl. 383–401) or Dharmanandi (fl. 383–391).11 As noted by Jungnok Park, the terms shenshi and shishen are combinations of the same characters in different order and designate the same object—an agent of thought, and/or the transmigrating spiritual entity in saṃsāra (Park 2012, p. 191). Park points out that the virtual identity in meaning between shishen and shenshi in turn strengthens the identification of shen as shi, the latter of which was the standard rendering for the Sanskrit term vijñāna (Park 2012, pp. 184, 191).

The spirit consciousness may have originated from the need to explain to the Chinese audience the plot premises of Buddhist jātakas and avadāna stories—how it was possible for one to be the same across multiple lifetimes (Itō 1986, pp. 219–220). Within the Chinese Buddhist context since the third and fourth centuries CE, the term offered a solution to an important tension central to the theory of reincarnation in Buddhism: if there is no permanent self, as stated by Buddhist doctrines, then what is the transmigrating entity that connects different lifetimes? The spirit consciousness could explain such transmigrating entities because it survives death as a non-immortal entity, which does not contradict the unchanging, permanently existing self that Buddhists take issue with (T02, no. 125, pp. 642c20–643a24). It should also be noted that while spirit and matter often form an ontologically opposite pair in some cultures, the spirit consciousness did not fall within this dualistic framework. Spirit consciousness is nearly, but not completely, immaterial, thus making its physical existence extremely difficult to detect (T33, no. 1694, p. 17a22-27).12

The importance of the spirit consciousness should not be understated despite its nebulous nature. The Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra is one example that speaks to its importance in Buddhist practices and imaginations of early medieval China. Inscriptions of the Northern and Southern dynasties period (420–589 CE) also show that patrons of Buddhist art were already preoccupied with the spirit consciousness from at least the early sixth century. For instance, a 504 CE inscription found at the Guyang Cave of Longmen Grottoes in central China states that the grandmother of the king of Guangchuan made an image of the future Buddha Maitreya for her young grandchild and wished that the resulting good karma would “nourish the spirit consciousness 資潤神識” (Tsukamoto 1974, p. 310). In Weishu, the official history of the Northern Wei (386–534 CE) compiled in the Northern Qi (550–577 CE), the term shishen “consciousness spirit”, interchangeable with shenshi “spirit consciousness” (Radich 2016, p. 115; Park 2012, p. 191), is also mentioned as the transmigrating entity surviving death in Buddhist beliefs (Wei 2013, p. 3026).13 Other inscriptions seem to have shortened the term to “spirit (shen 神)” for rhyming purposes, but still refers to the spiritual part of beings understood to be able to exist beyond the expiration of the physical body.14 A 538 CE inscription at Mogao Cave 285 wishes that the “spirit travels to the Pure Land 神遊淨土” (Dunhuang Yanjiuyuan 1986, p. 114). And a very similar phrase also appears in a 687 CE inscription at Longmen Grottoes wishing “the spirit of the deceased to be reborn into the Pure Land 亡者神生淨土” (Shi 2009, p. 561). The repeated appearances of the spirit consciousness in translations of Buddhist texts, official histories, and donor inscriptions attest to its central role in the early medieval Chinese conceptions of life beyond the expiration of the physical body.

How was the spirit consciousness visualized and approached in Buddhist art? The Medicine Buddha tableau in Cave 220 provides an excellent case in point for understanding how such transmigrating spiritual entities were imagined and pictorialized in the mid-seventh century.15 A closer look at the lamp-lighting healing ritual centered around the spirit consciousness in the tableau shows that it is actually presented as a structured, multi-stage transformation process. The most conspicuous visual cues for this structured transformation process lies in the contrast between two pairs of bodhisattvas attending to the lamp trees, and the types of lamps housed in the lamp tower. The duo on the right is still in the process of lighting the lamps (Figure 6 and Figure 7), whereas all lamps on the left are already lit and the two bodhisattvas seem to be refilling or replacing the lamps (Figure 8 and Figure 9). In other words, the two duos appear to be engaged in different stages of the lamp-lighting process.

As for the lamp tower, lamps housed in different sections of the tower take on different forms. While the lamps in the main section of the lamp tower are depicted as flickering flames, those above the platform brimming with cloud patterns the flames are supported by little lotuses and a bird-shaped lamp tops the tower itself (Figure 10, Figure 11 and Figure 12). Such graduated changes in depictions of lamps on the lamp tower and contrasts between the two lamp trees suggest that these lighting devices outline a larger transformation process consisting of different stages.

3. Ascension and Transformation: The Lamp Tower and Lamp Trees

How does this transformation process come to be visually expressed by the lamp tower and the lamp trees in the Medicine Buddha tableau? The key to understanding the workings of different stages of this process lies in a small platform behind the lamp tower covered with meandering patterns of clouds and qi (Figure 10). Known as “patterns of clouds and qi” 雲氣紋, these patterns are considered to be visualizations of qi forces in the universe and have been associated with transcendents and used on funerary objects since the Western Han dynasty (206 BCE-9 CE; Sakai 2003, p. 22). The application of this pattern on a platform, as seen in the Medicine Buddha tableau of Mogao Cave 220, is without precedent or analogue in extant Buddhist art of early medieval China. But the appearance of lotuses as lampholders above this platform filled with cloud and qi patterns offers clues to the reason behind placing such cloud patterns at this particular location in the lamp tower (Figure 10). Lotuses are commonly used motifs on lamps since the Northern and Southern dynasties, which likely provided the material foundations for imaginations of lotuses supporting lamps. An example is the lotus-shaped lamp from the tomb of Xu Xianxiu 徐顯秀 (d. 571 CE) in Taiyuan. Such decorations, however, were not random choices, but rather were informed by the deep connections between lotuses and life in the Buddhist context (Gao and Sun 1997, p. 52; Tian 2010, pp. 178–79). For instance, one is said to enter a Pure Land at the end of this life through “birth by transformation” (Ch. Huasheng 化生), usually visualized as being born from a lotus flower.16

The association of lotus flowers with birth by transformation is particularly suggestive for understanding the details of the lamp tower in the Medicine Buddha tableau. Only the lamps above the small platform filled with patterns of cloud and qi have such lotus lampholders (Figure 12). This placement suggests that the lotus lampholders likely indicate a post-transformation stage, with the cloud and qi patterns below as indicators of transformations underway.

The appearance of lamps with lotus lampholders only in close proximity to the top of the lamp tower also points to an ascending directionality in the conception of the transformation process visually expressed through the tower, calling attention to the very apex of the tower structure. A bird perches at the very top of the lamp tower, immediately evoking the vermilion bird (Ch. zhuque 朱雀)—the cardinal emblem associated with the direction of south and the element of fire (Tseng 2011, p. 198). A closer look at this bird shows that its body is more bulbous than standard representations of the vermilion bird found in funerary contexts and its tail feathers are actually flaring flames (Figure 11). That is, the bird at the top of the lamp tower is actually a bird-shaped lamp visually evoking the vermilion bird.

Examples of similar bird-shaped lamps, with spread wings and a bulbous body, can be traced back to the Eastern Han dynasty (25–220 CE, Figure 13 and Figure 14). Just like the lotus lampholders, the logic behind such bird-shaped lamps runs deep. Since as early as Neolithic times, such birds evoke not only the element fire or a cardinal direction, but were associated with the sun (ibid., p. 281). As pointed out by Lillian Tseng, birds were considered to be interchangeable with the sun in pre-Han and Han pictorial art (ibid.). This association ran strong beyond the Han dynasties as well and served as the foundation for the notion of the brightest fire being extracted from the sun. Sun Ji in particular has demonstrated that such bird-shaped lamps should be understood as mingzhu 明燭 “bright candles” (Sun 1996, pp. 5–6). Mentioned in Rites of Zhou (Ch. Zhouli 周禮, Sun 2015, vol. 9, pp. 3505–8) and Songs of Chu (Ch. Chuci 楚辭, Wang 2014, p. 138),17 “bright candles” were lamps that housed the “bright fire” minghuo 明火 extracted from the sun with concave metal mirrors that concentrate and amplify rays of sunlight to ignite flammable materials. Such mirrors were known as yangsui 陽燧 (Needham 1959, vol. 4, p. 87). Since the ignition relies on the sun as the “source” of the fire, yangsui mirrors were considered tools for extracting the sun’s finest light and yang energy (Li and McMahon 1992, p. 156). Interestingly, Sun points out that the bird-shaped lamp in particular could be understood as a stand-in for yangsui, as suggested by the example of murals from a tomb dated to 408 CE on the Korean Peninsula (Sun 1996, pp. 4–5). An inscription found next to the bird reads: “The yangsui bird treads on fire as it travels 陽燧之鳥，履火而行” (Figure 15; ibid.) (Sun 1996, pp. 4–5). One notices formal similarities between this rendition of the yangsui bird and the bird-shaped lamps in their slender necks and similar poses, with both wings extended and outstretched. Most importantly, both are informed by the association of birds with the sun’s sacred fires and yang energies. In the case of the bird-shaped lamp on top of the lamp tower, given its elevation and central location in the Medicine Buddha tableau, it seems that only the brilliant fire from the sun would match its importance. Placed at the center of the tableau and atop the lamp tower, the bird-shaped lamp indicates the culmination of the process embodied by the lamp tower both in its location and symbolic significance.

Another notable feature of this lamp tower and its important role in the lamp-lighting healing ritual is the purposeful placement of the tower directly in the pond (Figure 10). The symbolic significance of a tower with its foundations in a realm of water may be gauged through a passage in the sixth century Records of Buddhist Monasteries in Luoyang, the first entry of which focuses on the renowned Yongning Monastery. The entry tells of a “nine-storeyed wooden pagoda” in the monastery, visible even hundreds of li away from the capital Luoyang (Yang 2018, pp. 11–12).18 Although seemingly unrelated to the lamp tower in the Medicine Buddha tableau of Cave 220, the two structures share several similar features. Both are multistoried high-rise towers in Buddhist contexts that are four-sided, painted with vermilion paint, and decorated with hanging bells that generate marvelous sounds (Ibid.).19 These shared similarities suggest that the lamp tower and the nine-storeyed pagoda recorded in the Yongning Monastery entry may be informed by largely similar conceptual templates. Most notably, during the nine-storeyed pagoda’s initial phases of construction, the workers were said to have “dug beneath the Yellow Springs,” implying that the pagoda was both literally and symbolically grounded in a realm of water—the “Yellow Springs” that refers to the netherworld (Ibid., p. 11).20 Interestingly, the lamp tower in Cave 220 is also literally placed in a realm of water, the chthonic associations of which are further emphasized by the context of the Medicine Buddha’s lamp-lighting healing ritual that deals with those on the brink of death. In other words, although the lamp tower may appear to be a miniaturized structure, symbolically its foundations were meant to extend all the way down to the netherworld and its apex the sun to extract its brilliant fires and refined energies.

The significance of the lamp tower’s placement in a realm of water is brought into clearer relief by a seventh-century tale of the man Yu Lintong 虞林通 in Fahua zhuanji 法華傳記. Yu was said to have died and been taken to the gate of a great city by six officers of the netherworld, where he met a monk called the “Medicine King 藥王.” The monk taught Yu a gāthā that could transform hell into a lotus pond. After chanting the gāthā, Yu was able transform the eighteen hells into a lotus pond and managed to recover after spending 2 days in the netherworld (T51, no. 2068, p. 75b18-c2).21 In the Medicine Buddha tableau of Mogao Cave 220, the image of a tower in a realm of water evokes the netherworld of “Yellow Springs” in addition to the placement of the Medicine Buddha tableau on the north side wall—the direction associated with darkness, water, winter, and the end of life in Chinese correlative cosmology. Intriguingly, one finds the Western Paradise of Amitābha on the opposite south wall (Figure 3). Since one is reborn into the Western Paradise in a lotus, as demonstrated by various depictions of infants and children in enclosed and blooming lotus flowers, the Western Paradise of Amitābha on the south wall is likely the result of the transformation of the netherworld into a lotus pond. This hypothesis is further supported by the unusual appearance of a small platform near the center of the south wall tableau (Figure 3). Its placement within the larger composition of the tableau is similar to the platform brimming with cloud and qi patterns in the Medicine Buddha tableau on the opposite wall (Figure 5 and Figure 10). Together, the two platforms present a continuum of transformation, from the cloud and qi showing transformation underway and life in flux, to the stability and brilliance of colored lozenge patterns suggesting the miraculous beryl ground (Ch. liulidi 琉璃地) of the Pure Land.22

Based on the different types of lamps found in different sections of the lamp tower and its placement in a realm of water, the transformation process visually expressed by the lamp tower could thus be summarized as follows. Emerging from a chthonic realm of water, the lamp tower houses flames that undergo transformations, with the cloud and qi patterns on the small platform as indicators of transformations underway. The post-transformation stage is visually expressed through the addition of lotus lampholders only to the lamps above this platform. On the very top of the lamp tower, the bird-shaped lamp introduces the brilliant fire of the sun and its finest energies into this process. The collision of the sun’s yang energy with the water of the lotus pond provides an explanation for the unusual appearance of the cloud and qi patterns, further pointing to the small platform as marking a watershed moment in the transformation.

As exemplified by the lamps in the lamp tower, recurring themes and motifs often serve to suggest a sequential process rather than a static scene, especially if minor changes suggesting processual order are present. Such is also the case for the two lamp trees on either side of the central lamp tower in the Medicine Buddha tableau of Cave 220. The two lamp trees and the bodhisattvas surrounding them also outline a process of transformation, with the lamp tower discussed earlier as a culminating final stage.

The placement of the lamp tower at the center of the tableau clearly demarcates the lighting devices and bodhisattvas into two groups, each engaged in different activities. The two bodhisattvas on the right (east) side of the tableau are still in the process of lighting the lamp tree—half of the lowest section of this lamp tree is still empty and yet to be filled (Figure 6 and Figure 7). The lamp tree on the left (west) side of the tableau, on the other hand, presents a different stage in the process. The bodhisattva on the ground is either passing or receiving something from the second bodhisattva standing on a small end table. Since this lamp tree is fully lit, the bodhisattvas seem to be replacing or refilling the lamps (Figure 8 and Figure 9). The lamp tree on the right side, yet to be fully filled, thus likely represents an earlier stage, while the fully-lit lamp wheel on the left suggests a later step in the process.

A second indicator of processual order for the two lamp trees is the lotus-shaped incense burner on the end table next to the lamp wheel on the left (Figure 8 and Figure 9). From this lotus incense burner emerges cloud and qi patterns resembling those on the small platform. Given the charged associations of the cloud and qi patterns with birth and life, its emergence from this small incense burner resonates with the Medicine Buddha’s principal healing abilities that restore life to those on the brink of death. More importantly, the repeated appearances of the cloud and qi patterns connect the three lighting devices in the tableau to form a larger process. The lamp tree on the right precedes that on the left, as it still has some vacant slots yet to be filled by lamps. And the lamp tree on the left precedes the lamp tower because the cloud and qi patterns here are in initial stages of emergence, growing from the lotus incense burner in only small quantities. A complete process connecting the three lighting devices thus comes into clear relief. The lamp tree on the right pictorializes the initial stages of a larger process, continued on the lamp tree on the left where the cloud and qi patterns begin to emerge. The lamp tower embodying a transformation process itself is the final culminating stage of a larger transformation process in which the two smaller lighting devices also participate.

This conclusion is further supported by other details in the Medicine Buddha tableau that also align with the processual structure established by the three lighting devices, such as the dancers next to the lamp trees and the bodhisattvas sitting on blooming lotuses in the pond. The dancers in the Medicine Buddha tableau present a peculiar case among murals at Dunhuang. Dancers in the foreground of the tableau usually perform the same type of dance and those found on the opposite south wall of Cave 220 constitute the earliest extant examples (Figure 16). In the Medicine Buddha tableau, however, the lamp tower seems to act as a demarcation line clearly separating the two lighting devices and duos of dancers (Figure 17). The duo on the right is engaged in spinning, horizontal movements, while the duo on the left leaps vigorously into the air in vertical movements. This division is also echoed in the color scheme of their attire. The clothes of the dancers on the right are of a bright, shining white, while the dancers on the left wear clothes of saturated red, green, and blue. This contrasting color scheme also applies to the bodhisattvas seated on blooming lotuses in the pond—the duo on the right is clad in pure white robes, while the duo on the left is dressed in saturated colors of red, green, and blue (Figure 6, Figure 8 and Figure 17).

How might these details fit into the structured process outlined by the three lighting devices? Distinctions in the type of dances, namely two types called huxuan 胡旋 “Sogdian swirl,” and huteng 胡騰 “Sogdian leap,” respectively, shed considerable light on the situation.23 Duan Qing has proposed that both words originated from the Sogdian word wrt—huxuan being a translation and huteng a transliteration—and both describe dances brought by Central Asians into China in the sixth century (Duan 2005, p. 413). Formal contrasts between the “Sogdian swirl” and the “Sogdian leap” have already been made in Buddhist art of the Northern and Southern dynasties. A damaged pedestal of a Buddhist statue found at the mausoleum of Emperor Wu of Han (156–87 BCE, r. 140–87 BCE), stylistically dated to the Northern Zhou dynasty (557–581 CE), shows a scene of two dancers performing on either side of a large incense burner (Figure 18; Shan 1957, p. 48). Interestingly, the female dancer on the right extends her arms sideways, engaged in horizontal movements, while the male dancer on the left raises his hands over his head, as if leaping into the air. This configuration of two dancers flanking an object in the center, with the dancer(s) on the right performing the Sogdian swirl and dancer(s) on the right the Sogdian leap, matches the configuration of the dancers in the Medicine Buddha tableau of Cave 220.

More importantly, the images on this sixth century pedestal highlight another distinction between the two types of dances—the predominant association of the leaping huteng dance with male dancers in its explosive power, and the swirling huxuan with female dancers in its lightness and ethereality (Zhang 2005, p. 392; Duan 2005, p. 413). The connection of the leaping and swirling to dancers of different genders offers clues for understanding the reason behind the alignment of the swirling huxuan with dancers and bodhisattvas wearing primarily white robes, and the leaping huteng with attires of vibrant red and green in the Medicine Buddha tableau (Figure 6, Figure 8 and Figure 17). That is, this alignment follows the systematic association of seasons with certain colors and energies established in the “Monthly Ordinances” section of the Book of Rites. The bodhisattvas on the right side primarily wear white—the color of autumn, the season in which the yin energy rises.24 The bodhisattvas on the left, on the other hand, wear green and red—the colors of spring and summer, seasons of growth when the yang energy rises (Sun 1989, vol. 1, pp. 410, 423, 431, 442, 449, 456).25

Taking these observations of the two lamp trees and the bodhisattvas surrounding them into account, we could gain further insight on the workings of the larger transformation process in the Medicine Buddha tableau outlined by the three lighting devices. It begins on the right side associated with the yin energy, subsequently proceeding to the left side, where the yang energy rises. Ultimately the two forces meet in the middle. As the final stage in the process, the lamp tower is where the two opposing energies clash both horizontally and vertically. The cloud and qi patterns on the small platform indicate the encounter of these forces culminating in a transformation—the flames above the platform now acquire little lotus holders reflecting their post-transformation state. Presided over by the seven Medicine Buddhas, attending deities, and accompanied by the appropriate offerings, this process is bound to be efficacious on saving the spirit consciousness visiting King Yama, the protagonist in the section of the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra on lamp-lighting healing rituals.

4. Visualizing the Spirit Consciousness in the Medicine Buddha Tableau

Why could lighting devices be used in the Medicine Buddha tableau as visual expressions of the spirit consciousness and its transformations? I suggest that the choice of adding nuanced distinctions to the lamps and lighting devices in the Medicine Buddha tableau to outline a transformation process was likely informed and enabled by the associations of lamps with life and vital, spiritual parts of humans. Lamps remain key symbols in Buddhism as “the mind of correct enlightenment” and a perpetual offering to the Buddha, but the significance of lamps was likely not only informed by Buddhist interpretations (Kieschnick 2003, pp. 153–54). While the lamp-lighting ritual is closely connected to the Medicine Buddha in Buddhist practices of early medieval China, prevalent contemporaneous Daoist lamp-lighting rituals also dealt with similar concerns, namely one’s personal destiny and the extension of life (Mollier 2008, p. 161). The central role of lighting devices in life-prolonging rituals is likely informed by Chinese debates on the survival of death by spirit, specifically on the relationship between form (xing 形) and spirit (shen 神). At the center of this debate was the question of whether some form of spirit continued to exist beyond the expiration of the physical body. From the many heated debates on the topic, an extended metaphor emerged as the enduring imagery on the matter. Most famously discussed in the works of Huan Tan 桓譚 (d. 56 CE) and Wang Chong 王充 (27–97 CE), this metaphor characterizes the relationship between form and spirit as that of fire lighting a log of wood (Huan and Zhu 2009, p. 31) and physical death was the extinguishing of this fire (Wang 2010, pp. 417–18; Forke [1907] 1962, p. 196). The log and fire metaphor gained further traction in later discussions on the question of “survival of death by the spirit” (shenbumie 神不滅). In defense of the reincarnation system, the Buddhists argued that a spiritual entity does survive physical death. The metaphor of log and fire from the first century CE was picked up by the Buddhist monk Huiyuan 慧遠 (334–416 CE) and employed in his famous defense of the “survival of death by the spirit” position. Huiyuan extended the original metaphor to argue that the transmigration of spiritual entities across different lifetimes, namely the process of reincarnation, is similar to that of fire being transmitted from one log of wood to another (T52, no. 2102, p. 32a1-4).26 That is, burning fires are now directly connected to spiritual entities transmigrating from one lifetime to the next in the system of reincarnation.

This direct connection of fire to spiritual parts of humans is likely the underlying logic behind Buddhist lamp-lighting rituals, informing and lending support to the efficacy of these life-prolonging rituals while being further circulated and reinforced with their popularity. According to the catalog Chusanzangjiji 出三藏記集, compiled by the monk Sengyou (445–518) in the early sixth century, the first translation of the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra as a chapter of the Abhiṣeka Sūtra was noted for its popularity precisely because “it concludes with a rite for prolonging life [the Healing Ritual], and this has caused [the text] to circulate very widely in the world” (T55, no. 2145, p. 39a21-23).27 Lamp-lighting was already central to the life-prolonging ritual in this first translation and remained so through all four Chinese translations of the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra. The introduction and primacy of the spirit consciousness in the healing ritual as outlined in the Dharmagupta translation of the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra in particular further points to the spirit consciousness as the protagonist in the transformation process visually expressed by the lighting devices in the Medicine Buddha tableau of Mogao Cave 220. The process depicted in the Medicine Buddha tableau could use the lamps as way of pictorializing and visually expressing the nebulous spirit consciousness and its transformations brought about by the Medicine Buddha because of the association of lamps with the vital, spiritual parts of humans that informed the lamp-lighting healing ritual in the first place.

5. Conclusions

This article examines how Buddhist art of the early Tang dynasty was shaped by concerns with states of consciousness and transmigrating spiritual entities. Proposing a new interpretation of the Medicine Buddha tableau in Mogao Cave 220, this study shows that such transmigrating spiritual entities were not arbitrarily inserted into pictorial programs. Rather, they were thoughtfully integrated into the tableau as part of a structured transformation process. Other elements in the tableau, such as the dancers and bodhisattvas seated in the pond, are also part and parcel to this visual project of transformation with the lamp-lighting healing ritual in Dharmagupta’s translation of the Bhaiṣajyaguru Sūtra as basis, as indicated by the colors of their attire and the types of dance being performed.

Central to the pictorialization of the transmigrating spiritual entity is its association with and visual expression through certain material objects. In the case of the Medicine Buddha tableau, this was achieved through the visual expression of the spirit consciousness through lighting devices. The spirit consciousness could be visualized through lighting devices because of the associations of lamps with vital, spiritual parts of humans since the first century CE. More importantly, the central role of the spirit consciousness in the Medicine Buddha tableau shows that such Buddhist murals depicting rituals and performances situated among grand edifices could be visual expressions of states of spiritual entities and consciousness. Seemingly intangible spiritual entities in Buddhist art are thus inextricably intertwined with and visually expressed through physical objects. To this end, this study may serve as a first step towards a renewed systematic understanding of Cave 220 and similar works of art, exploring the cognitive templates that informed the creation and production of Buddhist art with the spirit consciousness as a case in point.