Taihu stones (太湖石) are found near Suzhou on the shore of Dongting Mountain (洞庭山) and Lake Tai. (Taihu means “Lake Tai.) The rocks feature pores and holes where the surging currents pierced the soft limestone. While the most prized rocks are natural, companies today make cultivated versions: “starter holes” are drilled and the rock is submerged for about eight years. I suppose it’s like farming versus harvesting from the wild.
Since at least the Tang dynasty (619–907), scholars kept small Taihu rocks as objects of inspiration and contemplation. Large ones were installed as sculptural elements in gardens. Admirers saw the rocks as microcosms, symbolizing mountains where Daoist immortals dwelled, Buddhist monks meditated, and Confucian scholars retreated to secluded lives. Since the rocks stood for centuries despite sun, wind, and rain, they also invoked endurance.
I accepted all this from my studies. But on this trip, I saw the holes on par with the rock. When I left the museum and gazed at the high rises of New York, their windows were akin to the holes in the Taihu rocks. When I overheard people exclaiming about openings to other dimensions, I imagined those same holes.
Moreover, the water wears away the holes, enters the openings, and leaves no gap between water and stone. At the same time, the stone stays present, its hardness and contours blocking the water. Water and stone are completely interlocked.
At night, Lake Tai’s blackened liquid mirrors the moon. Do we remember that there is no lake without the basin that holds it? Do we remember that the night is vast space? Do we joyfully sail across its waters? And do we remember how free it is to cross space?
As I stood inside the scholar’s hall, I looked through the lattice windows. It seems we’re always framing our views—television and movies show the director’s perceptions. Every painting and drawing on display at the museums was framed. Every door I passed through framed the way to another space.
Perspective is the difference between the Taihu rocks and the lattice. The viewer walks around the rocks to enjoy the contours in the round. The lattices are a plane. The plane doesn’t change except in the angles of its lines and therefore the shape of each view it frames.
We are used to looking at objects. We are trained to detect matter. But space is just as important: it is the context for all the solidity we see.
__________
Rock and lattice in the Astor Chinese Garden Court. Ming dynasty (1368–1644). 17th century style. China. Taihu rocks, granite terrace, ceramic tile flooring, roof tiles, and door frames, various woods (nan wood columns, pine beams, gingko latticework), brass fittings. TheMet.
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/78870
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/78870
Rock in the form of a fantastic mountain. 20th century. China. Taihu limestone; wood stand. H. (with stand) 46 in. (116.8 cm); W. 28 1/2 in. (72.4 cm); D. 20.5 in. (52.1 cm). TheMet.