Journey back to a time when the emperors of China ruled by the mandate of heaven. Here at the 日晷 (Rìguǐ), or sundial, time itself was a gift bestowed upon the people. Imagine the Forbidden City in its heyday. The emperor, considered the Son of Heaven, held dominion over all, even time. The sundials, crafted from white marble and iron, weren’t mere timekeeping devices. They symbolized the emperor’s power to confer time upon his subjects. The 日晷 (Rìguǐ) located in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, and its siblings near the Palace of Heavenly Purity and the Halls of Spiritual Cultivation and Happiness and Longevity, served a crucial function. They meticulously tracked the hours of the day and the all-important solar terms, dictating the rhythm of life within the Forbidden City. The sundial’s design is deceptively simple yet ingenious. The marble plate, etched with precise scales representing hours, sits parallel to the equator. This angle corresponds to Beijing’s latitude, 39°54′ north. The iron gnomon, piercing the plate, casts a shadow that sweeps across the scales, mimicking the hand of a clock. From spring equinox to autumn equinox, the sun’s northern trajectory casts the gnomon’s shadow above the plate. In the latter half of the year, the sun shifts south, projecting the shadow below. But even imperial timekeeping had its flaws. Cloudy days rendered the sundials useless. The arrival of foreign self-ringing clocks in 1601, a gift to Emperor Wanli, marked the beginning of the end for sundials in the Forbidden City. While the sundials may no longer govern the flow of time, they still stand. They offer a glimpse into a time when the emperor’s word was law, and even time itself was subject to his decree. The 日晷 (Rìguǐ) serves as a silent testament to the intricate relationship between celestial mechanics and imperial authority in ancient China.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to