Thangka Hunting - Bhaktapur, Nepal
Bhaktapur, Nepal
When I was in Kathmandu two years ago, I bought 5 thangkas. You could say I went a little thanka crazy -- at least that's how I titled my blog post describing the experience. I resolved that the next time I was here, I might buy one or two more. That's it. A couple friends asked me to shop for a thangka on their behalf and I figured that would be fun.
I love looking at thangkas, particularly master quality ones. They're so beautiful. I also heard last time I was here that many master thangka painters reside in Bhaktapur, so I figured this would be a good place to shop around. Turns out I was right.
There are two differentiators between the good shops and the mediocre ones. The good shops ONLY sell thangkas. The mediocre ones supplement with other things. Occasionally you find a mediocre shop that's exclusively thangka, but they're always very small; just one little room.
I make the rounds. I wander in a shop, look around and start rattling off the names of deities and styles, making occasional comments on quality or technique. That informs the owner or sales rep that I know something of what I'm talking about. Even after that, many want to show me a Kalachakra mandala, which are mostly made by student-level painters and meant to be the souvenir the tourists buy. If they patronize me like that, I turn cranky and threaten to leave.
That's when they pull out a few deities at the lower professional range. I point out their flaws. Then the good stuff begins to emerge and it becomes a matter of what I like, what doesn't do anything for me, and how good a value something is. If they get a sense I can afford it (and they have it), I see master quality.
In making the rounds, I become known as a real prospect. How known, I didn't realize until today. I settle on three outfits. I say "outfits" because one outfit has 3 shops plus a separate school.
The first outfit is a smaller family operation where I'm dealing directly with the 4th generation lama who paints the face of the thangka. His daughter and nephew paint the rest. The face is the most important aspect to get right, so that makes sense. He actually puts price tags on his hangkas and they are very reasonable. There's basically no room for negotiation. As a westerner, I'm comfortable with that. I like him and his thangkas and I buy three, one on behalf of a friend, the other two for me.
The other single-shop outfit I mistook for being part of the multi-shop outfit because it has a very similar name. No one respects trademarks in this part of the world. Two young women did most of the talking with an older man hanging back.
Both seemed to not be terribly knowledgeable about their thangkas. One mistook a Medicine Buddha for a Shakyamuni Buddha. Unless she's profoundly color-blind, that should be no-brainer. The other needed help identifying what a Manjrushri looked like. He's the golden guy with the flaming sword. As a team they could pretty much figure everything out. They had some very nice thangkas and were quoting reasonable prices.
My guess is that the man was the owner and the girls were his daughters. He figured I would respond better to them because they're cute and not quoting inflated prices. If they got into trouble, he'd take over. And because I mistake this outfit for being part of the more aggressive one, relating to their reasonable, easy-going style is a breath of fresh air. I figure I'd do well to deal with them before any of the aggressive guys show up. I don't know if that last part was intentional, but it worked out to be a good strategy for them. I buy one on behalf of a friend.
The multi-shop outfit was not quoting any deals and in fact most of these guys were obnoxious. But they had a large inventory that included a few real gems. They showed me a couple of nearly identical Manjrushris that were just phenomenal. Of course the price seemed a bit high.
One of my friends falls for the Manjrushris and asks me to negotiate, but fails to tell me which one he likes. As I'm waiting for confirmation, I'm canvassing the lesser shops hoping to uncover a hidden gem. A few thangkas show promise, but the quality is inconsistent; like the artist has the chops, but got impatient in a few areas. Take a look at the Milarepa and you'll see what I mean.
The multi-shop outfit sends it's student painters out as spies. I've been perusing and buying thangkas for almost a week and so I'm "marked" by now. I step out of the Milarepa shop and one of them directs me to their largest shop -- but not the one where I saw the Manjrushis. He and another student start asking me what kind of deities I'm interested in. I say that I'm always looking for quality, which is true, but frustrates them. They have a huge stack of deities and won't show me anything until I name one. Fine, Manjrushri. They pull out the two Manjrushris I saw at the other shop...oh and what a coincidence, the lama who painted them just happens to be here.
I smell a rat.
They must have called ahead when they made me in the Milarepa shop. I casually ask how much these thangkas are. The spy plays the calculator game where apparently he needs to do some kind of higher order math to determine the price. I hate that game; it's so insulting. He comes up with a value that's more than 15% higher than the original quote.
I get up and begin to storm out. A third guy asks me what's wrong? I told him I was already shown those thangkas and that they're playing games with the price. I won't be taken for a fool. He tries to negotiate with me as I'm walking out, but he doesn't feel right to me -- too aggressive. I tell them I won't do business with any of them.
Then, as I'm stepping into the street, a fourth guy materializes and says, "Do you remember me? I showed you some thangkas the other day." I do remember him. I allow him to coax me back into the shop. The other guys disappear. He says that normally they only do this for volume purchases, but he's going to give me a 20% discount from the original quote. That's more like it.
I check my email and I haven't heard anything back about which Manjrushri my friend wants. By this time, I've grown quite fond of them too and want one for myself, so I make him an offer for both. It's way too low. I know this, but I figure if they're going to play games, I'm going to play games too. We go back and forth. Finally he checks with the lama and gets the nod. The final discount is 30% off the original quote.