Shan shui qing

There can never be enough praise for quality of the art and animation. It looks just like traditional Chinese art. The characters are also very expressive, you can always tell just how they feel at any given moment without any dialogue. I think the sound effects for the animals and the water were recorded in nature itself, which is a nice touch in my opinion.

My one flaw is that the story is hard to follow. The ending made little sense to me.

This film is different from other animation films and is unique in that it show cases of traditional Chinese paintings as well as traditional Chinese music instrument. Plot wise is not so much.

This is one animated short you'll have to see for yourself, as it really isn't possible to truly capture what SHAN SHUI QING was in mere words. Instead of a traditional animated film, this one looks like traditional Chinese watercolor paintings that come to life. Through these gorgeous scenes, characters move about and interact in a way that is a pure delight to the eyes.

The story isn't the most important thing about the film, but here is my attempt to summarize it. A girl rows an older man across the water. The man is weak and once they have crossed, he collapses to the ground. He is nursed back to health and while convalescing he teaches her to play the zheng (sort of like a Chinese zither). She becomes very proficient and when he eventually leaves, he gives her the gift of this fine instrument.

As I said, though, this is like a painting that moves and looks like something that would be shown in an art gallery--especially since the story itself is not the main point of the film. See it for yourself--it's rather magical and worth a look.

The animation style of Te Wei is quite distinct to that usually seen in either East or West, and most resembles traditional Chinese paintings, in light colours, and often with a softness of line, much like watercolours.

I recently viewed this excellent short film on a disc of animation by Te Wei. This one, called 'Feeling of Mountain and River' was my favourite on the disc, though 'The Cowboy's Flute' was also excellent.

This particular film consists almost entirely of images of landscapes and flowing water, and music played on the qin, a traditional zither-like instrument, though there is a back-story of the old qin-player instructing a child who aids him when he falls ill sick. The melodies are simple and superbly rendered, and the animation fits them perfectly, depicting scenes from nature, the movements of birds, animals and fish, plants, rivers, waterfalls, with consummate grace.

This short film really was a pleasure to watch, and had quite a calming effect on the senses.

I have watched 'Shanshuiqing' many times since it was first released in 1988 and I watched it again today, and it is indeed a masterpiece. It is a work that speaks to me on so many levels, a work that captures both the extraordinary beauty of the visual and the aural, a work that engages the heart and soul.

The title can be translated as 'A Deep Attachment for Mountains and Rivers,' 'A Love for Chinese Landscapes,' or 'An Affection for Mountains and Water.' We could also translate it as: 'A Deep Affection For What Can Be Discovered in Mountains and Water.' Such a title conjures up a vision of what we can discover when we 'read' a scroll landscape painting: a mountain hidden in the mist, a recluse disappearing into the clouds, an old man playing the seven-stringed qin zither or a little boat carrying a hermit to a riverbank through a narrow gorge.

This short animation brilliantly melds the brush, ink and paper of landscape painting with music. There are the natural soundscapes of water, wind and rain, now and then the swoop of a bird, a harsh wind stirs, the wind dies down, all is still again. The boy blows a reed calling out into an infinite space, into a great vastness. When I heard the first three pitches of the reed a whole expanse of space began to open up within me.

No words are exchanged between the qin master and the boy. Within the silences a whole new world is revealed, the silence that announces the encounter of a qin master who falls ill and a boy from a nearby fishing village who looks after him, the silence that the qin master and the boy are predestined to meet, succinctly expressed in a Chinese saying: 'Though born a thousand li apart, souls which are one shall meet,' the silence of parting, and the silence when you remember those you met or loved.

We are witness to a silence that speaks of a shared affinity, of deep affection. If we expressed it in words, its beauty would be gone. It is the same silence that permeates the entire canvas of this work: the trees, the birds, the fish, the mountains, the sky, the qin master and the boy.

The greatness of this work lies in the silences. Through silence alone we discover all kinds of hidden treasures among the mountains and rivers, and as these treasures and gifts are revealed to us, an affection, a love, a longing grows.