Max Foley

February 11, 2015

Japanese Art History
Hachiman in the guise of a monk

!
A.
The figure of Hachiman in the Todaji shrine is a curious one. At first glance, it may
appear to be a simple Buddhist figure, but this is not in fact the case. Hachiman is a Shinto
figure, as this was a time where Shinto and Buddhism were merging to a certain extent and
borrowing figures from one another. We can tell by the name of the figure, "Hachiman in the
guise of a monk", that the Shinto deity has been transformed by being clad in Buddhist garb, thus
forming a fusion of belief systems. But what is interesting still is Hachiman's role - he originally
represented the god of war. This seems strange, as Buddhism is known for its pacifism, and
monks known for a lifestyle of sitting in calm silence. We will look at how the artist resolved this
apparent paradox by cultivating an image of calm, muted strength.
The most immediately striking thing about Hachiman is the radiant colors on display. The
base includes a petal design in bright vermillion, the robes are a soft, warm orange, like the light
of a distant fire, and the sash features a vibrant smattering of a wide variety of hues. All of this
contributes to the impression of Hachiman as a metaphorical candle of sorts, a light to guide the
faithful through dark times. But perhaps most important of all is the effervescence of the face and
skin. Hachiman is adorned with a complexion that we would today describe as "healthy",
"glowing", or "youthful". We can see here that this figure we are looking at is one in good health.
We can contrast this to other monks, who appear wrinkled, tired, or perhaps emaciated, due to

the demands of the monastic lifestyle. But due to Hachiman's status as warrior, such weakness
would be unsuitable, and therefore we do not see it. Indeed, we cannot see under the robes, but it
is not hard to imagine that Hachiman may have a more fit, athletic sort of build that would befit
his role as a deity.
Hachiman also is sculpted with a wide head and square jaw. His head resembles a
rounded cube, an image of strength, fortitude, and masculinity, as opposed to the softness of a
sphere. We can also note that faces with high width-to-height ratio and prominent chins have
been observed by scientists to be indicative of high testosterone. Therefore the way his head is
sculpted implies the visage of a powerful warrior, albeit one in the guise of a monk.
Now let us turn to the expression on Hachiman's face. His gaze is cast downward. We can
speculate that this indicates submission, but that hardly seems appropriate given the stature of the
figure. A more adequate interpretation is that Hachiman is in a position of authority, looking
down at the viewer, perhaps judging him. However, at the same time, the statue does not appear
to be unmovingly stern. His mouth is in a neutral expression that resembles a smile more than it
does a frown. Therefore the viewer does not need to be threatened by the warrior god's eye.
Hachiman holds a staff. It is not difficult to imagine that this is a weapon of sorts, given
his role. However, it is resting in a very casual way in Hachiman's hand. It does not appear as if
the deity is about to strike. We can see that Hachiman has power, and yet we do not need to be
afraid or threatened by it. We should also note the slenderness of the weapon. It, in contrast to the
figure itself, is of a more delicate, less intimidating nature. This allows us to imagine that the
weapon is more of a metaphorical, spiritual, ceremonial one than one that is meant to be actually
used in battle.

The overall impression of the statue is one of great solidity and centrality. Hachiman rests
on a circular pedestal, but even on top of that, Hachiman's cross legs almost form another
pedestal of their own in their simple, flat geometry. The wood material conveys solidity, like an
immovable oka. The deity's body looks tranquil and symmetrical, and his head rests in the center
of the simple circle that is the mandorla. We can interpret this on the one hand as a reference to
the mental state of meditation, as one remains perfectly calm and "centered" if one can achieve
proper focus. But it also could suggest a counter-intuitive importance to Hachiman. Hachiman,
living at Todaji, is naturally dwarfed by the massive Vairocana Buddha. And Buddha is,
obviously, the central figure of Buddhism, while Hachiman is a lesser borrowed god. All this
might let one readily write off Hachiman as a "side god", of sorts. But the way the figure is
sculpted discourages that dismissal. Not only is Hachiman sitting in the same way the Buddha so
often is (to the point where a less familiar viewer would probably confuse him as the Buddha),
he fully appears to be the central figure in his own universe, and therefore encourages respect
and veneration.
In all, we receive the effect of calm, relaxed power. It is obvious that a great strength
exists inside Hachiman, but he does not appear to be about to use it, nor does he seem violent,
nor intimidating. He is seated in meditation, and he has adopted the robes of the monk. We can
now speculate as to the role of the god of war. He is not meant to be wrathful - moreover, he is a
model for warriors who come to a Buddhist shrine. Power is meant to be used only when
necessary, says Hachiman, and one must be tranquil enough to know when that is. Therefore we
can see how the Shinto concept is effectively worked into Buddhism by giving Hachiman the
robes of a monk.

B.
Kakeis Statue of Hachiman in Todaji by Christine Guth Kanda is an article that does not
delve too deeply into artistic considerations of the titular statue. Instead, it spends the majority of
the text discussing the history behind the statue, how it came to be, the political conflicts over its
creation, and how Todaji came to house the deity Hachiman. It is difficult to dispute these
historical pieces of data, as they seem well-researched and supported. However, Kanda does
make claims about the statue itself. She argues that the statue is an important example of
Kaikeis mature sculptural style. This is hard to argue with, as it is valid to the point of being
almost tautological. However, she also suggests that a key distinction in the statue of Hachiman
is that it is more naturalistic than ones which came before, saying the realism was grounded in
an interest in precise outward appearances reflecting a new awareness of the realities of the
phenomenal world.
This is easy to dispute, however, when we look at the figure of Hachiman. The figure is
not unrealistic, per se, but it is far from true-to-life, as is befitting a deity and not a mortal man.
First of all, we see Hachiman in the same stock pose that the majority of the Buddhist
iconography depicts - the ideal meditation stance. Contrast this with a more natural style like the
contraposto. We also see Hachimans features, and they are boldly, simply defined almost to the
point of making the first steps into cartoonish territory. His eyes are beady black circles, his
eyebrows elegant single strokes, his lips are an uncanny full red. His complexion almost looks as
if he is wearing makeup. His head is blocky, smooth, and symmetrical, in contrast to the more
fleshy, flawed visage of a mortal human. All of this lends Hachiman the appearance of god far
more than man. This makes sense, as Hachiman is adorned with a mandorla, seated on a

pedestal, and placed in a shrine. We also know that the face was based on an iconic painting, and
not an actual person. So it does not make sense to imagine that specific physiognomy would be
at play here. While it may be true that Kaikei adopted a slightly more naturalistic style than his
predecessors, the difference is small and Hachiman cannot be called naturalistic in any
meaningful way, aside from perhaps the flowing folds of the clothing.
It is also said that the statue of Hachiman is based upon a painting from Jingoji. There are
several resemblances between this painting and the statue. The pose is the same, they rest on a
similar lotus base, the mudras are the same, and Hachiman holds a stick the same way. However
there are also several major differences. First of all, in the statue at Todaji, Hachiman is missing
the beads that he held in his right hand in his painting. It is possible that these beads were once a
part of the statue and later removed, however. The staff that Todaji Hachiman holds also looks
like more of a threatening weapon, as opposed to the Jingoji, which almost looks like a fishing
rod. But most importantly, Hachiman in the painting does not possess the same strength and
centrality that is so captivating about statue Hachiman. We see him at a three quarter view, so it
is less of an iconic image of a god and more of a portrait. Hachimans image in the Jingoji
painting is also more fluid and slender, unlike the resolute-ness of the Todaji statue. The face in
the painting lacks the manly strength as well. Overall, Hachiman in the painting looks much
weaker, and is not as imposing of a guardian figure. Therefore we can see that Kaikei was
determined to give Hachiman the power he deserved. Kanda describes Kaikeis style by writing
The slender form and shallow, even carving of the statue of Hachiman are traits associated with
Kaikeis mature Anami style. But in this case, Hachiman is precisely not slender, which gives
him his authority.