An Encounter with Tashi Mannox Asian Art Newspaper. Tashi Mannox comes as something as a surprise. On my first meeting I was embarrassingly taken aback by the fact that he is of English rather than Asian descent. His stylish dress and apparent ease with modernity belies a man who has spent 17 years in monastic robes away from the ‘world of dust’. Born in Birmingham, from a Buddhist family, in the year of the Water Tiger, Tashi has studied an eclectic variety of disciplines during his journey as an artist. His first place of study was Bournville School of Art, which was followed by a BA Hons in Fine Art at Lancester polytechnic. At the age of 22, the artist became a Buddhist monk of the Tibetan Karma Kargyu Order. He was initiated as a monk by the previous incarnation of Kalu Rinpoche, and received full ordination by H.E. the Tai Situ Rinpoche, taking the name ‘Tashi’ which means ‘auspicious’. Tashi’s artistic talent soon found an outlet, working for a 15 year period as an apprentice on temple decoration under the direction of Sherab Beru Palden, a master of the Karma Gadri school of thangka painting. From Sherab he learnt the significance of the decorative scheme of the Tibetan temple that transforms the shrine into a sacred space. His studies continued in Nepal and Dharamsala, the seat of the exiled Dalai Lama. He was also fortunate enough to attend the only masterclass in drawing sand mandalas given by Tenga Tulku when he was in the UK practising this painstaking art during a four-year retreat. As a monk, Tashi received rigorous training in the written forms of Tibetan, a skill refined over years of copying ancient Tibetan texts. In addition to learning the classic form, U-chen script, Tashi became proficient in the U-meh cursive form and the Horyik seal script. But his imagination was captured by Sanskrit and Dru-cha, the calligraphic form of the Tibetan U-meh cursive script. The sacred syllables of Sanskrit, the ancient Indian language, are important in Tibetan iconography. In his work as a temple decorator, Tashi began to notice inconsistencies in the way that the characters were drawn from location to location. Few have learnt the art of forming Sanskrit characters and artists; copying each other’s work, simply reproduced mistakes. Tashi set out to find an authentic master from whom he could learn the true forms. His search led him to Dharamsala. Here he met the Nachen Oracle, once Tibet’s State Oracle and now a personal adviser to the Dalai Lama, who was reputed to be trained in written Sanskrit. The venerable Oracle politely disclaimed any skill in the language. Perhaps intuitively recognising a latent talent, he recommended as a teacher Pema Ludrob, an aged lama from Eastern Tibet. Lama Pema had undergone training at Kham-kar lobdra, one of only two colleges in Tibet that taught Sanskrit and was noted for his work in the Norbu Linka at Lower Dharamsala. The Oracle, whose authority few would question, arranged an interview by telephone. Tashi found Pema Ludrob to be a kind and gentle guru keen to develop a young man’s interest and pass on the tradition he had received. It was Dru-cha, the calligraphic form of the cursive Tibetan U-meh script that captured Tashi’s imagination. Calligraphy has a long and well-known history as both pure art and spiritual discipline in China, Korea and Japan. Calligraphy was widely practised in Tibet but was rarely practised as a free art form. Two high lamas have been important influences on Tashi’s work. The Tai Situ Rinpoche is an accomplished calligrapher who devotes a chapter to Creativity, the first of the ten branches of knowledge, in his book Relative World, Ultimate Mind. With regard to calligraphy, the Tai Situ regards strokes of ink on paper as ‘the expression, signature, fingerprint, of that movement.’ Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche (1940 – 1987) was another source of inspiration. Art, and calligrapher in particular, played a prominent role in Trungpa’s teaching. His own Tibetan calligraphy, much of which is now is private collections, was heavily influenced by the Zen aesthetic. According to Trungpa, ‘Venerating the past in itself will not solve the world’s problems. We need to find a link between our traditions and our present experience of life. Nowness, of the magic of the present moment, is what joins the wisdom of the past with the present.’ Trungpa applied this concept to art and his approach to calligraphy deeply influences Tashi’s own work. Tashi decided to give back his monastic robes only after much deliberation, deciding to express what he had learnt as a monk through his art. The Tradition into which he was initiated remains important to him. He feels he has a personal mission to be a bridge between East and West, embodying in everyday life the wisdom he learnt outside of the ordinary world. The discipline of his monastic training, both spiritual and artistic, remains the foundation of his work. He says, ‘In our Western society there is much clutter and confusion. Although a painting is another material object, I hope that the stark contrast of movement of the black ink on the white paper provides a window of space and freedom. It is kind of a reminder to our inner self. After all, within our busy self we all have a limitless spacious mind.’ Tashi comments, ‘I have to draw sacred meaning into my work – it has to have merit.’ That process begins in meditation. To work he must achieve a state of mind clear of everyday ‘clutter’ and unbiased by his own expectations. ‘I don’t wish to paint with a mind filled with conflicting emotions but strive to be natural and unbiased.’ The rigorous training he has received allows him to form the letters or characters without interference of his conscious mind, drawing them almost automatically. The spontaneity and creativity of the finished work he attributes to the Ultimate Mind of which he believes he is as much a tool as his brush. Tashi uses the analogy of a Zen master and pupil: ‘Before entering, the pupil will strike a gong. The master is able to tell the pupil’s state of mind from the quality of the sound of the gong and instruct him accordingly. The sound will be effected by how the gong is struck and the action of striking by the pupil’s state of mind. In the same way, the formation of characters on the paper is directly related to the artist’s mind.’ The split second before the brush touches the paper Tashi feels inspiration flow through him. The spontaneity of that moment transcends the sense of physical satisfaction he feels producing the work. Only when he is satisfied that the work represents that creative impulse will Tashi apply his seal. The personal seal is an integral part of the finished work. Its placement is part of the final composition. As Tashi says, ‘Where you place the seal is important, a piece of work can seem off-balance until the seal is applied.’ The size and design of the seal is important. Tashi’s name seal was personally approved by the Tai Situ himself. Tashi’s first exhibition in London was at the gallery of Linda Wrigglesworth. This association also arose from Tashi’s former life as a monk. He worked for several years in the monastery wardrobe, making and caring for the monks’ ritual robes. Tashi has also recently had his first exhibition in New York, during Asian Art week in March. Entitled Ri-newal, his theme was regeneration and transformation. A highlight of the collection was a triptych showing a lotus seedpod, a lotus in full bloom and an unopened bud, representing past, present and future. Tashi believes, ‘Humanity has the potential to use defilement as a means of transcendence: the purest lotus flower has its roots in the deepest mud.’ Gary Dickinson Tashi Mannox’s work is available through Kismet, 170, 75th Street, New York. Linda Wrigglesworth. Kismet