Su Zhiyong's Selected Running and Cursive Scripts Through Generations: True Grass Thousand-Character Classic

Author: Jiang Yin / Mo Xiaobu (editors)
Publisher: Xiling Press
Publication Date: 2006-01-01
Features:
Zhi Yong, also known as Monk Zhi Yong, was surnamed Wang and named Fa Ji. He was a native of Kuaiji during the Chen and Sui dynasties and a descendant of Wang Xizhi, the renowned calligrapher of the Jin Dynasty, in the seventh generation. In his early years, he became a monk and later traveled to Shanlin Town, Wuxing County, Zhejiang Province, where he lived in Yongxin Temple for thirty years. Here, Zhi Yong lived a secluded life, rising at dawn each day, grinding a large amount of ink, and then practicing calligraphy by copying Wang Xizhi’s works without interruption. Zhi Yong also kept several large baskets in his room, each holding over one stone in capacity. When his brush tips became worn out, he would remove them and place them in the baskets. Over time, the broken brush tips accumulated to fill ten baskets. Later, Zhi Yong dug a deep pit in an open area in front of Yongxin Temple and buried all the broken brush tips, building a mound and calling it the “Brush Tip Tomb.” The legend of “brush tips becoming a tomb” originated from this story. Through years of relentless and diligent practice, Zhi Yong’s calligraphy finally flourished, forming his own style and becoming one of China’s most famous calligraphers. During his time, many sought his calligraphy and inscriptions, so much so that the wooden thresholds of the temple were worn through and had to be covered with iron sheets. Later, this story became a classic tale known as the “Iron Threshold.” In his later years, he used the contemporary literacy text “Thousand Characters” as the subject, writing over a thousand copies in both regular and cursive scripts. From these, he selected eight hundred of his most satisfactory works and distributed them to various monasteries in Zhejiang. Even today, Zhi Yong’s “Thousand Characters” ink rubbings and engravings are regarded as models for learning calligraphy.
Dong Qichang’s “” in the Ming Dynasty described how he studied Zhong Yao’s “Xuan Shi Table”: “Every time he used the brush, it curved and turned, returning gracefully, with a deep and firm conclusion—what is said to be ‘penetrating through the paper when writing.’” As for his “Thousand Characters,” He Shaoji of the Qing Dynasty said: “Every stroke seems to come from the void and return to the void, even the traces of ink dripping like water from a leaking roof cannot fully describe it.” By closely examining his ink rubbings of “Thousand Characters,” we can see that his brushwork is protected at both ends, with every stroke full of twists and turns, conveying a subtle and rhythmic charm. Dong Qichang and He Shaoji’s descriptions are precise, specific, and apt.
The true and cursive “Thousand Characters,” “Retirement Ode,” and the cursive script collected in the “Hall” are all masterpieces. Among them, the true and cursive “Thousand Characters” is the finest, and its ink rubbings still exist, making it particularly precious. At that time, Yong Zhi Shi saw that ancient calligraphic methods were gradually fading and, to revitalize the art, he took Wang Xizhi as his model, spending decades to copy eight hundred true and cursive “Thousand Characters” and distributing them to monasteries in Zhejiang. This earned him fame in his time and lasting legacy. The copies he made were praised as the “Law of the World’s Calligraphy.”
The surviving ink rubbings of the true and cursive “Thousand Characters” are only damaged in the first two lines, with the rest still intact. As for the missing parts, they have been supplemented based on the Guanzhong version. The Guanzhong version refers to the stone engravings made by Xue Sigang in the third year of the Guangguan era of the Song Dynasty, also known as the “Shaanxi version.” The original stone still exists in the Xi’an Stele Forest. It is said to be “extremely refined, leaving no regrets,” making it a fine edition. However, compared to the ink rubbings, it feels slightly inferior. The calligraphy is ancient in meaning, strict in rules, unyielding in every stroke, yet slightly influenced by running and cursive scripts, containing a free and elegant spirit, as well as warmth, grace, and strength. His cursive script has each character standing independently, with skilled brushwork that remains rooted in antiquity amidst its elegance. Truly, he inherited the essence of Wang Xizhi—no wonder people praised him as “Zhi Yong capturing Wang Xizhi’s flesh.” This can be seen as proof.