Untitled by Prince Yongxing

This album of nine paintings and nine calligraphy leaves was made in 1787 by Prince Yongxing, the eleventh son of the Qianlong Emperor. It was never meant for public display. It was a private gift.

Look first at the landscape: mist dissolves the mountain peaks into bare paper, a pavilion nestles into sheer rock, and a tiny figure below sets the scale. Yongxing's brush is light and fast, sketch-like, almost modern. But the real power of the object sits on the left page.

Yongxing was widely considered the finest calligrapher of his generation. That was a problem. His father, the Qianlong Emperor, fancied himself a master of the brush and grew resentful of his son's reputation. According to court records, the emperor eventually forbade Yongxing from producing public calligraphy. So the prince turned inward, creating private albums like this one for a circle of trusted friends. The red seals stacked at the bottom of the calligraphy page are the receipts, each one a collector or recipient marking the object's passage through trusted hands.

The painting is lovely. But the calligraphy is the forbidden act. It is the sound of a son being told to stay quiet, and finding another way to speak.