Six Dynasties Stone Carvings in Nanjing

Six Dynasties Stone Carvings in Nanjing

The Six Dynasties Stone Carvings are a cultural tourism attraction.

Heading northeast from Zhongyangmen and entering October Village on the Ningqi Highway, you’ll soon spot, amid the vast fertile fields under the azure sky, several stone beasts standing proudly. With tongues outstretched toward the heavens, they stride forward with heads held high, chests puffed and wings tucked, long tails dragging on the ground—an imposing sight of unbridled majesty. Having weathered a thousand years of wind and frost, their surfaces are covered in cracks, as if riddled with leaks and wormholes, losing the intricate craftsmanship of their time but retaining a rugged and primitive grandeur that compels one to pause in awe and admiration. These stone beasts are the Pixiu, the iconic symbols often used today to represent the “dragon-coiled Mount Zhong” and the “tiger-guarded Stone City”—the celebrated relics of the Six Dynasties.

The highest form of art does not lie in replicating nature, but in recreating it. And the pinnacle of recreating nature is capturing its essence to form a realm. The highest achievement in forming such a realm lies in embodying grandeur and profundity. Other qualities—such as elegance and vigor, delicacy and precision, wild charm and scholarly grace, or even the bizarre and absurd—follow in descending order, each with its own merit. Understanding this secret unlocks the mystery behind Chinese artistic representations like the Dragon, Phoenix, Taotie, Fangxiang, Qilin, and Pixiu. These beings seem to exist yet do not; they are imagined yet feel real; born of nothingness yet surpass reality. Only by observing the stone carvings of the Six Dynasties tombs can one grasp the profound duality and the triumph of the intangible over the tangible.

Among the Six Dynasties stone carvings, the Pixiu stands as the finest. Known as a mythical creature in ancient legends, the Pixiu was believed to ward off evil spirits, hence its name. Its overall form resembles a lion, which is why local farmers simply call it a “stone lion.” In truth, it looks nothing like a lion. Its massive size surpasses even that of a whale or elephant; viewed from afar, it stands in the open field, bearing the sun and moon, as if rooted to the earth yet reaching for the sky—its grandeur beyond description. Its broad chest and sturdy belly far outmatch those of tigers or leopards; up close, it appears as if a giant stone beast looms overhead, its might indescribable. Its tongue is long, hanging down past its chest as it opens its mouth, while its tail sweeps the ground like a broom in the wind. It is neither lion nor elephant, neither tiger nor leopard, neither eagle nor falcon—yet it resembles all of them. It is a culmination of the world’s greatest birds and beasts, exuding an aura that suggests: if it doesn’t roar, it shakes the heavens when it does; if it doesn’t fly, it soars to the skies when it does; if it doesn’t move, it travels thousands of miles unimpeded when it does. By function, how could it not “ward off evil”? By classification, it can only be called a “mythical beast.” From an artistic perspective, it symbolizes power, embodies majestic beauty, radiates ruggedness, antiquity, intimidation, divinity, and grandeur. Call it abstract, and it has form; call it concrete, and no such creature exists in nature. It is a historical creation unique to human culture—something never made by heaven or god but forged by mankind. It is the treasure of Chinese culture and the pride of the Six Dynasties. Here, the true essence of Chinese art—capturing spirit through form and transcending form to capture essence—is displayed in its full glory.

There are three surviving Pixiu in October Village, all masterpieces from the height of the Liang Dynasty, over 1,300 years old. One is located inside Ganjiagang Primary School, part of the stone carvings of Xiao Xiu’s tomb. Its body is robust and well-rounded, with finely carved head, wings, and feet, while the rest is rendered with simplicity. To its west lies the tomb of Xiao Dan, with similar styling, but what’s peculiar is the small Pixiu placed horizontally beneath the belly of the larger one—youthful boldness beneath aged majesty, creating a delightful contrast of playfulness within solemn dignity, achieving excellence in both realm and charm. Further west is the tomb of Xiao Jing, which, besides the Pixiu, also features a striking stone archway. The archway has a columnar shape, adorned with rope-patterned reliefs, and atop its lotus-petal-shaped column capitals sits another small Pixiu. Amidst the bold grandeur, such refined intricacy leaves a lasting impression.

Additionally, there are two remaining stone Qilin from the tomb of Liu Yu, the founding emperor of the Liu Song Dynasty of the Southern Dynasties, located outside Qilinmen in Nanjing’s eastern suburbs. These carvings are simple and honest, representing the early style of Southern Dynasties stone art. The Pixiu from the tomb of Xiao Ze (Emperor Gao of the Southern Qi Dynasty) at Jing’anling in Danyang County is even more noble and graceful, exuding an air of pride and confidence that surpasses even those of the Liang Dynasty in Nanjing. The Pixiu from the tomb of Xiao Zhengli (late Liang Dynasty) come in male-female pairs, seemingly conversing with affectionate expressions, offering a unique charm. The stone Qilin at Yongningling, the tomb of Chen Bao, in Nanjing’s Shizichong, now consist of one unicorn-horned and one double-horned beast, their bodies adorned as if draped in silk, wings spread wide, and hooves poised mid-flight—stylistically ornate and delicate. The fluid forms of the stone beasts at Xiao Hong’s tomb outside Nanjing’s Xianhe Gate and the towering Pixiu at Xiao Ji’s tomb in Shishizhuang Village, Jurong County, each possess their own remarkable qualities. Though they may lack the rugged grandeur of the Liang Dynasty’s peak, each piece is uniquely captivating, drawing endless admiration to the ancient capital of the Six Dynasties. Can visitors—both past and future—leave without lingering in awe?