Serenity Enshrined: Tibetan Master Artist
TINLEY CHOJOR
by Ross Rice

We go up the steep and twisty way of Rock City Road. Mount Guardian on the left, Overlook on the right, to the monastery of Karma Triyana Dharmachakra (KTD), the American seat of His Holiness the 17th Gyalwa Karmapa, head of the Karma Kagyu order, one of the four main lineages of Tibetan Buddhism. KTD is an important spiritual outpost for the Tibetan Diaspora as well as Western devotees, with year-round teachings, retreats and a shrine room that is open to the general public. The reason we are huffing up this incline today through the (so far) light snow and fog? To meet the man who painted the place—interior and exterior—who happens to be the master artist-in-residence, and has been internationally accorded the very highest acclaim in the realm of Tibetan architectural art: Tinley Chojor.

We finally reach the cleft between the two mountain groups, where KTD is nestled. A large monastery building is still under construction, but the shrine building, with golden cupola, is finished, sitting next to the large farmhouse that serves as the main office and bookstore. We knock at the door of the second cottage down the road, where we are warmly greeted by Tinley himself, who accepts our small gift (homemade cookies), and invites us inside, where we make a game attempt at limited conversation while Tinley’s wife serves tea. No translator is available at this time, so we smile and gesture a lot before ruefully giving up, finishing our tea, and getting up to go see the monastery.

We trudge over to the main building, enter and take off our boots and jackets in the foyer. Tinley leads the way as we pad through the austere lobby to the shrine room. Where we enter and. . . just have to. . . stop. . . . . everything.

It’s a microcosm of powerful beauty and serenity, both uplifting and relaxing. Front and center is an eleven foot tall golden Buddha Shakyamuni, with four-foot statues of Guru Rinpoche, White Tara, Manjushri, and Vajrasattva, as well as a statue of His Holiness the 16th Gyalwa Karmapa (Rangjung Rigpe Dorje), who founded KTD in New York City in 1976, and moved it to this location in 1978. A large stupa stands with relics of the 16th Karmapa, a complete collection of Buddhist scriptures in Tibetan, next to rows of candles and new calligraphies by His Holiness the 17th Karmapa. Multi-colored silk brocade appliqués adorn posts and circumvent the central skylight, the fabric work a sacred art unto itself. The silk comes from Benares, the ancient Indian city where Buddha taught long ago (these amazing decorations are made by sacred art master Gyaltsen Chopel). “Legacy” thangka paintings line the upper part of the walls, depicting the images of numerous illustrious masters who, over hundreds of years, have sought to ease the suffering of mankind, leading all the way back in time to the blue-tinted primordial Buddha, Vajradhara.

But after sitting in contemplation, you become aware of the intricate images that occupy the space between, symmetrical and repeating patterns: sometimes geometric and straight-lined, like molecular structures; sometimes sinuous and natural, with vines, leaves and flowers. Warm primary color tones touched off by the skylight, blues greens and mellow reds, with saffron orange-yellows in shapes suggesting a peaceful inter-connectedness, a timeless continuation. This is Tinley Chojor’s art, and it’s really quite safe to say that nobody in the world (as we know it) does it better.

Back in 1645, the Fifth Dalai Lama wanted to have the best in the land helping to build the Potala, the world-famous Buddhist palace in Lhasa. Word was spread, artists and artisans gathered, and when the best was selected, Tinley’s ancestors (from the region of A Lhagyari, southeast of Lhasa) were among the select group of artists, forming what Tinley refers to as the “Zong Jong”, a community (or guild) which lasted seven generations, until 1959.

Tinley Chojor was born in Lhasa around 1935, the seventh-generation lineage holder of this renowned family of Tibetan artisans, and showed early aptitude for the family trade, so his father started his training at home at eight years. In 1942, he was one of twenty-seven children selected by the Tibetan government to study and maintain Tibet’s artistic culture. At the same time, he started his education at the Tibetan monastery, which at that time was the single source of higher learning available (pre-dating the secular systems imposed by the Chinese regime). Memorization of Buddhist scripts went hand-in-hand with brush and color techniques, blending the spiritual with the aesthetic. Tinley became an apprentice, working constantly on projects all over Tibet, including The Potala, and eventually The Jokang, Norbulingka, Ganden, Sera, Drepung, Nechung, and Tsurphu Monasteries.

The political situation took a turn for the worst starting in 1951 when China took control of Tibet. Although the Dalai Lama was initially given a high degree of autonomy, things quickly soured as the Communist Chinese government began land re-distribution in Eastern Kham and Amdo, causing an insurrection that eventually spread to Lhasa, which the Chinese brutally crushed in 1959. They subsequently used this event as a pretext to rescind all autonomy, confiscating land and systematically dismantling the culture. The Fourteenth Dalai Lama fled with government principals, and formed a government-in-exile based in Dharamsala, India. Tinley, married, with children, and from a prominent Lhasa artisan family, was under careful watch and unable to escape, and was thus forced to endure the brutality of Chinese rule. Tragedy struck home even further in 1970 when Tinley’s wife became a casualty in one of the sporadic uprisings that have occurred during the occupation. Throughout this period, Chinese Red Guard fanatics destroyed over 6,000 Buddhist temples, sparing but a few, including the Potala—an unconscionable loss of Tibetan culture, which finally abated around the time of Chairman Mao’s passing. As one of the only living qualified Tibetan Buddhist artists, Tinley was instrumental in the eventual restoration process that followed; a sometimes gratifying process of reclamation that was yet made under duress by the Chinese regime. Still, this roughly twenty-five year period remains a time that Tinley would understandably prefer not to discuss.

Tinley and his second wife, Wangchen Pema (he remarried in 1973) finally made their move out of Tibet in 1982, securing passage to Nepal to work on the Pullahari Monastery, and then on to India to work on the Rumtek Monastery, the Norbulingka Institute, and the Nechung Foundation. During his time in India, he re-acquainted with good friend His Eminence Jamgon Kongtrul Rinpoche, who was temporarily administering the affairs of the Kagyu order and the Karmapa, at that time between incarnations (the seventeenth Karmapa being all of three years old and yet undiscovered). It was Rinpoche who requested that Tinley emigrate to the U.S. and be master painter at Karma Triyana Dharmachakra in Woodstock, New York. Tinley and Wangchen accepted the offer, and Tinley started work there in August of 1988.

With minimal assistance from apprentices, Tinley spent the next six to seven years painting KTD, starting with the outside, then continuing with the amazingly intricate work we see in the interior. What’s really the most remarkable thing about Tinley’s art is that he never plans out what he will do. He gets his five main colors of water-based paint together, each of which has definite symbolism in Tibetan art: blue/sky and air, white/cloud, yellow/earth, red/fire, and green/water. Then, he just. . . paints. Although it does sound a little corny, Tinley really does “paint from the heart,” knowing the therapeutic effect his images will have on the meditative spirit, and drawing from that beneficial energy. The shapes seem to flow through him into the brushwork unhindered by ego or self-interest, as he expertly mixes the basic pigments, creating the hues and shapes identified with his family’s style. Though he clearly and humbly appreciates our slack-jawed reaction to his achievement, nonetheless, it’s still all in a days work for Tinley.

At our next meeting two months later, I realized that as I was asking questions (through our incredibly capable interpreter, Acharya Sungrab G. Drongpa), I kept coming back to a distinctly Western question, which amounted to: how much of your “self” do you put into your work? Tinley seemed bemused as this sort of thing kept coming up, but I was just trying to determine how much of the artist’s soul is revealed through the technique. I finally asked if this was an inappropriate question to ask of a devout Buddhist, and he smiled, replying (loosely translated) that what he was doing was really more of a spiritual practice, a devotional gesture rather than a personal artistic expression. The painting wasn’t something he was “creating” as much as “being”—his dharmic mission in this world.

Though there’s been no shortage of projects for him over the last twenty years, including the Tibet House in New York City, the Albany KTC, and the Kagyu Thubten Choling in Wappingers Falls, as well as the home of noted American Buddhist Robert Thurman (father of actress Uma), just “being” has been a little more problematic as of late. Tinley was diagnosed with stomach cancer three years ago, and almost died. The radical surgery—removing his entire stomach—has a five percent recovery rate, so things were pretty touch-and-go for awhile. The separation from family made it even harder for Tinley; one son, who works at the Potala, was denied a visa to visit his ailing father. (His other son has been missing since 1988, another casualty of resistance to Chinese rule. Of his three daughters two still live in Tibet, but one made it to the U.S. in 1995, presently living in San Francisco and is following in the family trade, painting like her father.) Tinley seems to have physically recovered from the surgery very well indeed, saying he could now “eat anything!” Spiritually, however, this was clearly a tough time for him, and the indifference politics can show toward important family situations never more apparent.

When I asked Tinley if he would try to return to his homeland, he shook his head. He seems to have found peace in the community of KTD, who genuinely revere and appreciate him, and has some good doctors nearby to keep an eye on him. He chuckles, and says he’ll stay put and “enjoy being a ‘Woodstock artist,’” visit his daughter in California occasionally, and maintain the visual needs of KTD. Despite the immense difficulties of his long and fruitful life, he sustains the serenity of a true master, with his infectious smile, beige cap and paint-spattered pants. After saying goodbye, I can’t help but feel incredibly blessed to have met this amazing and unique individual as I descend back into the world of samsara in my dingy Neon. It’s a beautiful day in the Catskills of New York. I really hope he liked the cookies.

Tinley’s life is far too rich and complex a story to properly express in this miniaturized magazine format. Fortunately, a book about him will soon be coming out: Opening the Eye Of the Buddha: The Life and Work of Tinley Chojor, Master of Tibetan Architectural Painting and Decorative Arts, by Louise Light and Claire Pullinger. Guests are welcome to visit Karma Triyana Dharmachakra, please call ahead at 845.679.5906, or the website at www.kagyu.org for appropriate times. (A small donation is greatly appreciated.) For more about the flight of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, please see Martin Scorsese’s movie Kundun.