Streams and Mountains in Autumn Mist 1634

Curator: Up next, we have Bian Wenyu's "Streams and Mountains in Autumn Mist," created in 1634. It resides here at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a masterful ink drawing on paper. Editor: It’s really serene, isn't it? Sort of melancholic in a beautiful way. The muted tones make me feel like I'm watching the world through a veil. Curator: Landscape painting during the late Ming dynasty became a vessel for literati artists to express personal emotions amid political upheaval, a rejection of the court style. This piece, in particular, resonates with the artist's inner world. Editor: I feel that melancholy deeply. There’s a certain loneliness to the wispy trees and distant mountains that hits hard. Does knowing the political context heighten that emotion or does it provide kind of a story? Curator: Both, really. Understanding the societal unrest provides a frame for understanding why Bian Wenyu, and artists like him, chose nature as their refuge and their mode of expressing dissatisfaction. Art became their social statement. Editor: So the mist isn't just mist; it’s symbolic! I mean, of course. It’s kind of beautiful how artists can take real world and use them in artworks for symbolic intention. Like what’s being hidden versus what's revealed, you know? It almost turns into a form of storytelling! Curator: Exactly! The blurring effect of the ink washes diminishes solid form which then opens the interpretation beyond surface appearance. It asks the viewer to feel the state, rather than merely observe a scenery. Editor: I will forever see misty landscapes differently now! The personal feelings combined with cultural history and society impact makes everything so much more meaningful now. Curator: That is why we tell stories in the art! This artwork is more than meets the eye if the viewer allows their senses and history to merge.