Imperial Illusions. Kristina Kleutghen
ground what began as a very ethereal study. Yukio Lippit actively encouraged my work on this subject, and, profoundly, taught me how to really look at paintings. Cheng-hua Wang of the Academia Sinica continually offered advice and mentorship, and provided an intellectual role model for investigating Chinese artistic responses to foreign contact. I owe these three a debt of profound gratitude. In addition, Irene Winter not only expanded my study of cross-cultural aesthetics, but also showed me how to improve the project. Philip A. Kuhn patiently suffered through my first naïve translations of the Wish-Fulfilling Studio Archives. Mark Elliott held me to the rigorous historical standard and meticulous attention to detail to which I aspired, and went above and beyond in his support of this project. Additional thanks are due to Melissa McCormick, Hao Sheng, Karen Hwang, Michelle Wang, Youn-mi Kim, Akiko Walley, Alan Yeung, Phillip Bloom, Jeffrey Moser, and Alison Miller. Anne Rose Kitagawa, Melissa Moy, Nozomi Naoi, Mark Erdmann, and Rachel Saunders deserve special mention for their friendship, as well as their material assistance, which was essential to completing this project. I truly could not have done it without them.
The generosity of the Blakemore Foundation enabled me to spend two uninterrupted years in Beijing, which coincided serendipitously with the Forbidden City events that made research for this book possible. At the Inter-University Program at Tsinghua University, I am especially grateful to my teachers Hua Kuoman and Liu Lu for their patience and expertise. Henry Ng of the World Monuments Fund and Nancy Berliner, now of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, generously allowed me to visit the Qianlong Garden twice during its conservation, an experience crucial to this project. Freda Murck not only facilitated access to the Palace Museum for research, but also graciously and generously offered mentorship in all areas, and provided the initial suggestion that led to chapter 4.
Also at the Palace Museum, Lei Yong, Wang Zilin, Zhang Shuxian, Madame Guo, Liu Lu, and Zhou Yaoqing freely offered their time and assistance, as did Dong Jianzhong of the Qing History Institute. At The Beijing Center for Chinese Studies, Father Ron Anton, S.J., and Dr. Russell Moses were invaluable in allowing access to the library that carries on the ideals of the Jesuit mission in China. At the Shenyang Palace Museum, Vice-Director Liu Ning took significant time out of her busy schedule to facilitate multiple painting viewings fueled by delicious meals. At the National Palace Museum in Taiwan, numerous librarians helped with references. Chiu Shi-hwa and Lai Yu-chih (now of the Academia Sinica) are due particular thanks for helping me acquire an essential image permission.
I completed much of the original work for this project during a Mellon fellowship at the Needham Research Institute (NRI), where I wish especially to thank John Moffett, Sue Bennett, Christopher Cullen, and Catherine Jami for their generosity and collegiality. The time spent at the NRI has continued to pay dividends as I slowly metabolize the legacy of Joseph Needham, and the intersections between the histories of Chinese science and Chinese art. Professor Terry Kleeman and Michael Stanley-Baker, whose time at the NRI overlapped with mine, offered crucial insight into cave-heavens. At the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London, Lukas Nickel, Timon Screech, and Shane McCauseland facilitated a Research Associateship that allowed me access to the SOAS library. In addition to allowing me to present an early version of chapter 3 to their community, they offered wise counsel that greatly improved the project. Colleagues all over the world contributed here, particularly the Qing Art History workshop, who created a strong community both in person and online: Yeewan Koon, Lisa Claypool, Lihong Liu, Kaijun Chen, John Finlay, Nixi Cura, Francesca dal Lago, Philip Hu, Roberta Wue, Lihong Liu, Michele Matteini, and Stephen Whiteman. The chapters that Kaijun Chen and Lihong Liu read were improved immeasurably by their thoughts.
My colleagues at Washington University in St. Louis and the Department of Art History and Archaeology encouraged the completion of this project in a variety of ways, and I am grateful to Elizabeth Childs, William Wallace, Betha Whitlow, and Lindsey Derrington for their help. Robert Hegel offered advice, mentorship, and shared amusement over the varying quality of Qianlong’s poetry. Tony Chang miraculously procured texts that I could not travel to see, and sometimes did so on a moment’s notice. The Eighteenth- Century Interdisciplinary Salon welcomed a non-Westernist into their midst with open arms and generously offered their thoughts on early versions of the introduction and epilogue.
The funding I received for language study, research, and completion from a variety of sources is what made both starting and ending this project possible. To that end, I am grateful to Harvard University, the Fairbank Center for East Asian Research, the Harvard University Asia Center, the Blakemore Foundation, the Needham Research Institute, the National Endowment for the Humanities, and the Getty Research Institute for their support of this project. The College Art Association, Association for Asian Studies, and
Washington University in St. Louis generously provided subvention funds for the publication. The final manuscript was revised and completed during a 2013–14 Getty Research Institute–National Endowment for the Humanities Postdoctoral Fellowship with the theme “Connecting Seas: Cultural and Artistic Exchange,” during which my colleagues, who all specialized in cross-cultural contact, created the ideal intellectual environment in which to finish this book.
Of course, many others contributed as well. Seth Graebner has endlessly edited and advised this project, and his unwavering support has persisted throughout the many gritty moments that have attended its completion. Jess and Eli brought Qianlong’s experience with the young Prince Yongyan to life. Allison and Danielle made it physically possible to write. At University of Washington Press, Lorri Hagman, Tim Zimmermann, and Beth Fuget patiently shepherded me through the publication process. Matthew Williams of click! Publishing Services was a phenomenal and patient designer. Anonymous readers offered sage advice and detailed commentary, pointing out problems that I had vainly hoped to dodge and thereby improving this project immeasurably. I also gratefully acknowledge Ben Argyle, Thaddeus Law, Laura B. Whitman, Deanna Dalrymple, Jan Smarsik, Elisabetta Corsi, Marco Musillo, David Porter, and Anne Gerritsen, who provided support, advice, and inspiration at many points. Too numerous to name, many other friends and colleagues at Dartmouth and Harvard, in Beijing and both Cambridges, and in countries and cities around the world have contributed in various ways. You are not forgotten. With all the help I have received along the way, any failed illusions of correctness, completeness, and clarity in the text are mine.
This book is dedicated to the memory of Melanie Michailidis (1967–2013), a brilliant historian of Islamic art and architecture. Beginning at Washington University in St. Louis at the same time I did, she died tragically on February 1, 2013. Melanie profoundly affected me during the short time she was my friend. Professionally, she provided camaraderie and creative insight during the period of most intense writing; personally, she inspired so much more, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. This meager pile of paper is hardly the towering stone mausoleum in Samarkand that she deserves, yet I hope that it might still be the least of the monuments to her memory.
NOTE TO READERS
Unless otherwise indicated, all translations are my own, and all Chinese romanization is given in pinyin. Chinese names are given in Chinese order, with surnames first (e.g., Wang Youxue). Emperors are called by their Chinese reign names (as opposed to their temple names, given names, etc.). I have also followed Chinese placement of the word “emperor” following the reign name (i.e., Qianlong emperor, not Emperor Qianlong as in the Western tradition). Chinese lunar calendar dates have been translated into Gregorian form in the text, but are typically given in both this form and in their original Chinese form in the notes, in the sequence of emperor’s reign year/month/day (i.e., QL24/6/1 is the first day of the sixth month in the twenty-fourth year of Qianlong’s reign). “Qianlong” is pronounced “Chee-en-lung,” the initial q pronounced not with the hard k sound as in English but rather as if it were a ch, as in “China.”
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