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Buddha gone baroque

In the Mahayana we have a broader picture as regards the role of the Buddha-figure. In Tibetan Buddhism particularly, but also in other forms of Mahayana Buddhism, a rich and complex set of variants on the Buddha-figure emerges. There are a huge variety of figures representing different aspects of enlightenment, including Avalokiteshvara and Tara representing compassion, Manjushri representing wisdom, Vajrapani representing energy, and Vajrasattva representing purity. The Five-Buddha mandala offers a whole system of symbolism where Buddhas symbolising different qualities are associated with colours, directions, animals, and other associated symbols. Not limited to Buddhas, Tibetan Buddhism also offers bodhisattvas, female deities, wrathful deities, protectors, dakinis and more.

This symbolic system is not only found in Tibetan and other Mahayana art, but also in the meditation practices in which these symbolic figures are visualised, known as sadhanas. Indeed, it is claimed that the artistic representations derive from meditation experiences, rather than the other way round. The variety of figures symbolic of enlightenment may be stimulated by meditation, or in turn stimulate meditation experience. It may be engaged in at a shallow level by the mere viewer of art, or at a deeper level by the meditator.

This incredible wealth of symbology can be overwhelming, and it is easy to be either overawed or repelled by it. However, it seems to be subject to exactly the same kinds of factors as the simple Buddha-figure of Theravada Buddhism. In some respects this rich symbolism may relate to our experience and provide spiritual inspiration, but in others it may also just express a commitment to a fixed idea of transcendent enlightenment which does not speak to our experience. We need to consider how the artistic tradition is being used, as well as our degree of cultural access to it.

Just as real spiritual qualities can be conveyed through the expression of a Buddha-figure, so they can also be conveyed (especially to someone instructed in the symbolic system) through colour and symbolic association. By this means an aesthetic rather than intellectual way is found of conveying a spiritual quality which can be dwelt on, whether through visualisation, or producing or appreciating art, and with enough dedicated practice this may help the practitioner to make that quality a habitual part of his or her response to the world. For example, a Buddhist who meditates on Tara, the female figure representing compassion, may develop an aesthetic and symbolic correlate for compassion, which only needs to be recalled to stimulate a compassionate response. I have come across an example of this recently in the travel writing of a Buddhist friend. In the middle of a threatening situation in  which he was beginning to feel intense fear,

And then, as if receiving a blessing, the mantra of Green Tara, Buddhist goddess of compassion who protects from fear, arose in the depths of my mind and something in me relaxed.  Perhaps the moment of death was approaching, here in the dark Sri Lankan jungle.  Some part of me accepted this, I felt incredibly aware and alive.  The mantra continued to sound without any conscious effort on my part.  Time slowed to moments of prolonged intensity[1].

However, my friend’s experience is exceptional, and I wonder how often the theory of symbolic correlation actually reaches fruition in practice. For it to work in this way, a number of conditions need to be in place. The meditator needs to have a dedicated and consistent practice over a period of time, a strong visual imagination, and a strong cultural access to the Mahayana symbolic tradition. Even for those who have a dedicated practice and a strong visual imagination, for Westerners the third condition – cultural access to Mahayana symbols – is  very difficult to acquire, and might still be deracinated even after decades of practice. The cultural forms we are exposed to in childhood seem to have a very strong conditioning effect, which means that it is very difficult to gain such a deep engagement as is required here with an alien cultural form. For someone brought up in a culture saturated by Christian or secular types of artistic endeavour, understanding of other types of art or symbolism tends to be shallow and intellectual. Other forms may be attractive, but only superficially.

Even when these kinds of obstacles are overcome by long immersion in traditional Buddhist cultural forms, there are further problems. The complex symbolism of, say, Tibetan art can very easily become an end in itself, and the authority of tradition given to it may well mean that all it comes to represent for the viewer is a metaphysical absolute which just becomes a matter of attachment and leads nowhere else. This might particularly be the case when one has committed oneself to the Buddhist tradition, but the branch of it that one is committed to regards engagement in all these symbolic forms as a necessary and non-negotiable part of Buddhist practice. It seems likely that this is the case in most Tibetan Buddhist groups, and I have also found it to be so with the FWBO, which makes much use of the Tibetan figures, though often in slightly modified forms.

In the FWBO, in theory one could ignore it and concentrate on other aspects of Buddhism, but in practice it is impossible to ignore if one wants to be part of the group, because of its widespread use in collective ritual. When the shrine hall is hung with pictures of Padmasambhava, Avalokiteshvara etc, and collective worship is frequently devoted to them, they hardly become an optional aspect of the group’s practice. This means that for many, there is also likely to be a cultural resistance to these forms, which interferes with the spiritual benefits they could gain from other aspects of the group’s practice.

The test of whether these many forms of the Buddha are really being used only for spiritual inspiration, or whether they are primarily to reinforce group-values, create commitment to a metaphysical absolute or have just become an end in themselves, is how far they are contingent. Could they be replaced by other symbols which do the same job, even if those symbols do not originate in the Buddhist tradition? Or could the figures be modified, even removing what tradition may dictate to be their “essential” features, in order to do their job better in a Western context? If the very idea of this is inconceivable, I would suggest that the main function of the figures is in fact the perpetuation of dogma and narrow attachment, not spiritual development.

Westerners attempting to use the Tibetan symbolic system as a spiritual tool have the odds stacked against them so much in so many ways, that at the very least I would suggest that it be regarded much more as a pursuit for highly committed (and self-selected) enthusiasts only, rather than standard fare for the mainstream of Western Buddhists. This is not at all to reject symbolism as such, or to reject the idea of symbolic systems such as those used by Tibetan Buddhists. However, new, or very much more radically modified symbolism would be far more successful. More than anything else, also, renewed symbols should represent not enlightenment as it is said to be achieved, but rather the process of moving forward from our current experience. This probably means that the mere recourse to symbolism needs to be supplemented with more expressive or realist types of artistic expression as they are found in the Western tradition, and that the kinds of symbology that can be used need to be understood much more flexibly.

What would this actually mean? Well, imagine you walk into a Buddhist shrine-room one day in the future, and a ritual for the inspiration of compassion is about to begin. On the shrine is not a Buddha or a Tara figure, but a realistic painting of an old woman. The participants have spent some preparatory time working out what would symbolise compassion in their experience, and have brought in a number of smaller pictures. Poems are read, songs are sung, symbolic objects are placed on the shrine, most of them Western in origin and originating from the immediate environment, although one or two people include Buddhist, Christian or even Hindu pictures which speak to their experience.

What would be Buddhist about this? Nothing needs to be except the overall intention and the underlying framework of the Middle Way. By celebrating compassion, the people are focusing on one aspect of conditions which we all need to address. Certainly in doing this, they need a clear intention, and they need concrete forms to relate to, rather than just abstract ideas. However, the assumption that the concrete forms will be more successful just because they are ones approved by traditional Buddhism is one that is in conflict with central Buddhist insights.