In Nepal, Padmapani Avalokiteshvara is the most important of the Mahayana—‘Great Vehicle’—Buddhist bodhisattvas. In the Mahayana tradition of Buddhism, the search for enlightenment was expanded beyond the individual struggle to reach the truth that Lord Buddha originally envisioned. The central figure of the Mahayana way is the bodhisattva, the heroic renunciant who vows to remain in the world of illusion to help bring all sentient beings to final enlightenment before passing into Nirvana himself. In Mahayana Buddhism, the Buddha, often shown seated in a state of contemplation and meditative calm, cedes place to the figure of the bodhisattva, frequently shown in Nepalese art as we see him here, standing in a graceful pose, slightly swaying as if in movement or about to move, looking down upon the mortals whose salvation he takes as his mission.

This depiction of Padmapani has much in common with the one we have already seen (cat. no. 32), although the present example is larger. The figures are standing in the same tribhanga pose, their hands in the same position. The decoration in this example is somewhat more exuberant, which might lead us to ascribe to it a slightly later date; but both belong to the period of virtuoso craftsmanship and loving attention to detail that characterize the work of the Kathmandu valley metal sculptors of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

The thirteenth century marks the beginning of the period of the Malla kings who reigned over the Kathmandu valley until the end of the eighteenth century, when they ceded place to the dynasty of the present king, the Shahas. The Malla period in general was a period of overall political stability punctuated by internecine squabbles between the various principalities of the Nepal valley. It was a time of considerable prosperity, nourished by the valley’s fertility and by a lucrative trade with Tibet and India. It was also a time of great artistic activity, and Newar artists prospered through the patronage of the devout of the Kathmandu valley, the various noble houses there, and the wealthy lamas who eagerly sought the renowned Newar artists.

In contemplating this lovely sculpture it is easy to understand why these artists were so sought after. The sculpture is graceful and alluring, the tribhanga perfectly executed, the elements of the body beautifully proportioned and finely drawn. The delicate hands, and the appealingly natural features of the handsome face are typical of the Newar style. Typical too is the luxurious gilding—now much worn away—and the profusion of detail in the god’s jewellery, studded with individually cut and perfectly mounted stones. We appreciate now the pleasing patina, with the warm copper setting off a mellow gold, but we can imagine that the figure, when just finished, must have been dazzling with its freshly burnished gilding and brightly coloured stones.