ABSTRACT

A paradox underlies the Buddhist monastery of medieval China. As a religious establishment, it amounts to “a closed space, an enclave of the cosmos within the surrounding chaos . . . a living organism, a utopia, a microcosm sufficient unto itself.”1 To this end, certain distinctive architectural features and signposts-in particular, the heavenward-aspiring pagoda-imbue the precinct with religious overtones to make the enclave nothing short of a monastery. There is hardly a Buddhist monastery without a pagoda. In Tang times, however, architectural style was not necessarily the primary feature that proclaimed a Buddhist monastery. Many Buddhist monasteries in the capital cities were converted from aristocratic mansions or a lay residence.2 The monastic grandeur derived more from the sprawling spread of a cluster of compounds rather than from any specific architectural feature or design.3 Indeed, a pagoda be added to the erstwhile residence as part of the conversion process.4 By Tang times the pagoda gave way to the Buddha hall as the center of gravity in a Buddhist monastery.5 There is, however, nothing distinctly Buddhist about the architectural design of the Buddha hall, for it shares basic features with secular architecture; its distinction stems more from its ceremonial character. Hence it was relatively easy to convert an aristocrat’s house into a monastery. To press the architectural style of such a monastery for its religious character can therefore be misguided.