A Tale of Two Masterpieces

The Art Institute of Chicago holds a rare treasure from China’s Five Dynasties period (907–960 CE): The Harmony of Music (Hetu), attributed to the court painter Zhou Wenju. Scholars now believe this fragmented scroll may be a surviving section of Zhou’s lost masterpiece Night Revels of Han Xizai—a work better known through its 12th-century Southern Song copy (held in Beijing’s Palace Museum) bearing Gu Hongzhong’s signature.

When comparing these two versions—Zhou’s original fragment and the later Song replica—we witness more than artistic transmission. These paintings serve as time capsules, preserving subtle but revolutionary changes in Chinese daily life: the quiet demise of floor-sitting culture and the rise of chairs as status symbols.

Floor-Sitting Aristocrats: The Five Dynasties World

Zhou Wenju’s Harmony of Music captures an intimate musical performance in the household of Han Xizai, a controversial minister famed for his extravagant parties. The details are telling:

– Musicians sit cross-legged on carpets, including a drummer kneeling on the floor
– Guests stand respectfully, except for Han himself, enthroned on a raised platform
– The sole seated female guest perches on a low stool

This reflects Tang-Five Dynasties norms where floor-sitting dominated elite interiors. Excavated murals like the 9th-century Banquet Scene from Xi’an’s Nanliwang Village tomb confirm this: Tang aristocrats cluster on low platforms (lianta), their postures mirroring earlier Qin dynasty “kneeling figurines” with backs straight and knees bent.

The Chair Revolution: Song Dynasty Transformations

The Southern Song replica of Night Revels tells a different story. Here, the same musical scene undergoes subtle but seismic shifts:

– Five musicians now sit on round stools
– A male guest perched on a stool plays clappers
– Han Xizai awkwardly crosses legs on a backrest chair—an anachronistic hybrid pose

These changes reveal how 12th-century painters unconsciously modernized historical scenes. Just as Renaissance artists painted biblical figures in contemporary garb, Song painters projected their chair-filled world onto the past.

Archaeological evidence charts this furniture revolution:

1. Pre-Tang Era: Only low furniture like folding “Barbarian beds” (huchuang) existed
2. Tang Transition: Early chairs appear in elite settings (e.g., Boston MFA’s Scholars Collating Texts)
3. Song Consolidation: High-legged chairs become ubiquitous, as seen in Children Playing Under Banana Leaves (Palace Museum)

The Ripple Effects: How Chairs Changed China

The chair’s adoption triggered cultural shockwaves:

### Dining Revolution
– Floor-sitting era: Individual meal trays (fengpan) necessitated separate dining
– Chair era: Shared tables enabled communal meals, birthing modern Chinese banquet culture

### Body Politics
Early kneeling (jizu) carried no submissive connotations—it was simply rising from seated posture. Han dynasty records show emperors rising to acknowledge ministers’ bows. But chairs altered this dynamic:

– Tang/Song Transition: Standing bows replace floor kowtows in most interactions
– Yuan Dynasty (1271–1368): Mongol rulers institutionalize kneeling as submission
– Ming/Qing Escalation: Officials practice kneeling for hours; knee pads become essential

A telling contrast emerges between:
– Song Court Ladies’ Admonitions (Palace Museum): Officials greet empresses with clasped-hand salutes
– Qing Virtuous Empresses series: Artists anachronistically insert kneeling courtiers into historical scenes

The Lasting Legacy

This furniture revolution’s impacts endure:

1. Social Hierarchy: Chair designs mirrored status—from Emperor’s dragon thrones to merchants’ backless stools
2. Cultural Memory: Modern Chinese still say “invite to seat” (qing zuo) rather than “invite to stand”
3. Global Connections: The humble “Barbarian bed” (huchuang) exemplifies Silk Road exchanges, later evolving into military camp stools

As historian Wang Maolin noted, “Small things like sitting postures can reveal great historical currents.” These two paintings—separated by centuries but linked by artistic tradition—preserve the moment China literally rose from its knees.