I remember staring at those beautiful symbols as a young child, wondering why my uncle took such great care to shape each one with so much love and precision. I remember thinking that they were just “simple letters” and could not understand why someone would take so much time to draw them, especially when they were not part of a “greater purpose.” I was naïve at the time and saw individual letters purely as parts of an alphabet, whose sole purpose was to make words and grammatically correct sentences. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that letters could represent a form of art-one that I would later revere as one of the greatest and most sacred creations of the Eastern hemisphere. My great uncle, Chen Wu, was the one who became not only my mentor and source of inspiration, but also a guide to something beyond money and recognition—something could only be tapped by the inner soul.
I called my uncle Chen and asked him if f I could interview him for this project, and even though I could not see his face, I could still feel his delight and enthusiasm through the static phone. He stated that he was humbled by my request and that he would be more than happy to share his journey with me. He stated that he first became interested in calligraphy when he was a young boy, in the times that his family was poor and instead of having toys to play with, his father use to leave him his ink pen and a piece of paper. I could barley believe my ears when my uncle told me that he never received any formal training…although, what does that really mean? He never went to school or attended any college classes, but the times that he spent with his father taught him more than any one-hour university session could ever have.
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My uncle smiled as he recalled the times when he and his father would go outside and cut bamboo to make the sticks for the calligraphy pens. First, they would use their machete-style knives to shave the bamboo down into perfect holding vessels for the brush. Second, they would take the brush material (which could be rabbit, chicken, or pig hair) and embed it into the top of the bamboo. Finally, they would reinforce the tip with a glue-like substance and then test the brush on paper. “When I say paper, by the way, I mean not a traditional 8 ½ X11 white sheet from your copy machine; rather, I refer to the hard piece of surface that we use to make by hand” (Uncle Chen).
“Staying true to my roots is what’s important, said Chen Wu; without any hesitation or direction of where I should go. I pressed him; however, asking about the other mediums that I knew calligraphy was made for. He stated that silk was another beautiful medium upon which he could lay his beautiful brush. He stated that it had always played a major role in his life because it was a way to connect with the outside world.
Uncle Chen said to me, in his most humble voice, that he hopes to one make a difference one day. He never answered me again. The phone went dead on the other line and I never heard his voice again. I know he is still alive, but he feels uncomfortable with someone questioning his every move. He answered me, I know, because he wanted to share his message with the world, and he knew that I would be at the frontline. He couldn’t answer my question of where he thought the art was going today. As far as rewards, he couldn’t identify any because that was never a purpose of his art. Uncle Chen stated that he hopes to preserve the Chinese culture and teach the new generations to appreciate art in its purest form.
Whether you are in the Louvre and admiring the “Mona Lisa,” or you are standing outside the village of Bame, you cannot help but admire the beautiful and authentic writings on the wall. The families in this region have been writing on the walls for centuries, and to them, it represents the highest form of art. In all, the word “art” may seem like a universal concept, but when you take it across the world, it takes on a different meaning. I hope that my uncle and I have taken you on a journey that you will never forget.
