Illustrating Narratives with “Storytelling Images”

In its latest exhibition, Storytelling Images, the National Palace Museum harnesses the art of manga to illuminate the profound narratives embedded in traditional ink paintings, breathing new life into these artistic traditions.

Sense of Wander: ★★★★★

An album leaf titled Three Men Laughing by Tiger Creek, originally from the Song dynasty period (960–1279), is reimagined in manga style.

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Our daily lives are saturated with images, from commercial ads to social media posts. But does living in a society awash with visual content — both still and moving — sharpen our ability to interpret images? In other words, has this constant exposure to an image-rich world enhanced our visual literacy, or does it dull our perception, causing us to overlook the very images we encounter as our brains filter out hundreds, if not thousands, of visuals each day?

An image is composed of various elements — subject, colour, style, and composition, to name a few — all of which contribute to the story it seeks to tell. For millennia, painters have harnessed these tools to craft stories through their art, giving rise to the genre of “narrative paintings.”

For modern viewers, however, interpreting these visual stories has become a challenge. Many narrative paintings can’t be understood at a glance; they require knowledge of their titles, historical context, or cultural references to unlock their meaning.

For those eager to decipher the narratives embedded in traditional paintings, Taipei’s National Palace Museum (NPM) is hosting Storytelling Images, a blockbuster exhibition dedicated to “story-paintings” or “narrative paintings.”

The exhibition’s curatorial statement lays out a clear purpose, exploring three key questions: How can a picture tell a story? Why paint this type of story? And how should narrative paintings be understood? By examining these works through the perspectives of their creators, patrons, and audiences, the exhibition offers a well-rounded understanding of the stories these paintings reveal.

A section of the rubbing from the Wu family shrine captures the dramatic scene of “Jing Ke Assassinates the King of Qin,” bringing this legendary moment to life.

From ancient Egyptian mural paintings that depict scenes of daily life and the afterlife, to the Jataka Tales in India’s Ajanta Caves, where the Buddha’s previous lives are portrayed to convey moral lessons, images have long served as powerful narrators.

In Chinese art history, one of the earliest examples of visual storytelling is found in the stone carvings of the Wu Family Shrine, dated to 151 A.D. The first exhibit on display is a rubbing from the central registers of the shrine’s west wall, depicting themes of loyalty and filial piety, including the iconic scene “Jing Ke Assassinates the King of Qin” — a visual narrative that any art history student would be familiar with.

This scene captures Jing Ke’s failed attempt to assassinate King Zheng, who would later become Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of the Qin Dynasty (reigned 221–210 B.C.). While some details of the original carvings have been lost in the rubbing, Jing Ke is depicted with an outstretched arm as the king’s guard attempts to restrain him. These elements, rendered with meticulous detail and fine lines, bring subtle nuances to this dramatic narrative.

In this section of the handscroll Illustrations of Auspicious Responses, we see Emperor Qinzong of the Southern Song dynasty handing his robe to his brother, Zhao Gou, symbolising the transfer of power. Image courtesy of the National Palace Museum.

A handscroll, Illustrations of Auspicious Responses, attributed to Li Song (circa 1170–1255), also commands attention. In a section titled “Removing the Robe in a Dream,” Zhao Gou dreams of his brother, Emperor Qinzong (reigned 1126–1127), removing his robe and handing it to him. The depiction of the dream within a cloud-like bubble intriguingly parallels the way dreams or thoughts are often illustrated in manga.

This symbolic transfer of power was among the auspicious omens compiled by Zhao Gou’s ministers to legitimise his ascension to the throne as Emperor Gaozong (reigned 1127–1129).

What’s intriguing is that the National Palace Museum has reimagined this story in manga, integrating the original painting — specifically the scene where Zhao dreams of his brother — while also recreating missing conversations and dramatic moments.

A section of the Southern Song dynasty handscroll comes to life in single-page manga, adding colour to the story “Removing the Robe in a Dream” — an auspicious omen that served to legitimise Emperor Gaozong’s rule. Image courtesy of the National Palace Museum.

Mangas made for Storytelling Images are displayed for visitors to sit down and enjoy.

Several paintings from the museum’s collection have been reimagined in manga, offering audiences a fresh way to engage with these classic works. These single-page manga adaptations are displayed alongside the original paintings and have also been compiled into a manga book, exhibited along the wall outside the galleries for visitors to enjoy.

Some of these paintings explore themes of filial piety, a genre that, according to 9th-century art historian Zhang Yanyuan, serves to “enlighten through education and uphold social relations.”

The Twenty-Four Paragons of Filial Piety features stories such as “Lu Ji’s Oranges,” where a six-year-old boy secretly pockets oranges from a feast to bring home for his mother — a gesture that later earned him a reputation leading to his appointment as governor. Another story, “Wang Xiang and the Ice Carp,” recounts how a devoted son, seeking to fulfill his bedridden mother’s craving for carp one winter, melts a frozen lake with his body heat. The ice eventually cracks open, and two carp leap out — and the mother’s illness was miraculously cured by the carp soup. Through the artistry of manga, these timeless tales are brought to life.

A poignant moment unfolds in the hanging scroll Lady Wenji’s Return to China, depicting Lady Wenji bidding farewell to her husband.

Besides the solemn didactic themes, the exhibition also features narrative paintings intended for “entertaining viewing.” The Romance of the Western Chamber, for example, explores love themes that resonated deeply with readers during the Ming dynasty (1368-1644).

Another highlight is Lady Wenji’s Return to China, attributed to Southern Song (1127-1279) painter Chen Juzhong. This hanging scroll portrays the poignant tale of Cai Wenji (162–229), who was captured and married to the Left Xian King of the Southern Xiongnu.

The painting captures the moment when Lady Wenji, redeemed by Cao Cao, bids farewell to her husband. The conflicting emotions on her face are expressed through delicate brushstrokes. It’s fascinating how these nuances convey her inner turmoil — though I’m not sure whether my interpretation comes from the power of the imagery itself or from my prior knowledge of the story.

For those fortunate enough to view this hanging scroll, which is designated a National Treasure, it is a rare experience. But the painting will only be displayed for 42 days before being removed from public view.

This scene from Romance of the Western Chamber depicts a cloud of dreams emerging from the slumbering Zhang Sheng as he experiences his romantic encounter with Lady Cui.

Illustrations of Tao Yuanming’s “Homecoming Ode” narrate Tao’s return to pastoral life after resigning from public office. This scene vividly illustrates the power of imagery, capturing Tao’s profound experiences and contemplations after stepping away from worldly conventions.

One of my favourite works on display depicts three men standing by a flowing stream, surrounded by autumn leaves, sharing a hearty laugh. Three Men Laughing by Tiger Creek recounts the story of Lu Xiujing (406-477) and Tao Yuanming (365-427) visiting the monk Huiyuan (334-416). The three conversed so merrily that Huiyuan unknowingly broke his vow never to escort guests beyond Tiger Creek. This story is often interpreted as symbolising the harmonious coexistence of the three doctrines: Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism, each represented by one of the characters.

In the manga adaptation, the laughter of the three men is further amplified by the repeated use of the word “ha,” the Chinese term for “laugh,” which forms an arc above them.

Three Men Laughing by Tiger Creek is featured in the final section of the exhibition, inviting viewers to unravel the narrative woven into the painting through its visual cues — such as the characters’ expressions, their actions, and their surroundings.

While the National Palace Museum is not the first to feature manga in an exhibition (the British Museum hosted Manga in 2019, the largest such exhibition outside Japan), it certainly deserves credit for its innovative blending of traditional ink painting and manga.

This fusion transforms what might otherwise be distant visual imagery into something engaging, especially for younger generations. In my view, this approach successfully captures attention, inviting visitors to step into the exhibition.

I could be wrong, but it seems to me that these “stories” are not the primary objective of the Storytelling Imagesexhibition. Instead, its success lies in attracting more visitors to the museum and making its collection more accessible — not just to children and teenagers, but also to adults who may rely on these newly illustrated narratives to better understand the value and context of these old paintings.

Personally, I find my visit to Storytelling Images to be a delightful experience. As someone with an art history background, it offers the opportunity to view familiar works in a new light, inspiring a deeper understanding of centuries-old art through a modern lens.

Storytelling Images is on view at the National Palace Museum in Taipei until January 1, 2025.