Temple of Heaven Park 天坛公园
The greatest achievement of Míng dynasty architecture
Part of A Better Guide to Beijing’s coverage of South of Qián Mén
Of all Peking’s enchanting sights, the beauty of the Altar of Heaven is the hardest to describe. Its sublime austerity is mocked by words. It is what it is — the most fitting architectual expression of man’s highest aspirations in the world.
John Blofeld, City of Lingering Splendour, 1961
Blofeld thought even the Taj Mahal would look fussy and tawdry in comparison. In the 1930s he had the luxury of viewing the deserted altar under snow with just a few equally appreciative Chinese friends for company. In 1934 Sir Osbert Sitwell thought the altar ‘one of the chief objects of beauty in the whole of the Orient’ but expected that due to its extreme simplicity it would disappear within the space of a few years. The great trees on the surrounding land had already been hacked down for firewood by soldiers and peasants, and the temples were being used as offices and a police station. However, a quick look at Arlington and Lewisohn’s In Search of Old Peking reveals that, like many a modern blogger, Sitwell was only regurgitating the views of his guidebook.
Tiān Tán was constructed in the same period as the Forbidden City by the Míng Yǒnglè emperor and completed in around 1420. Tiān Tán actually means ‘Altar of Heaven’, and it was the site of the emperors’ winter solstice sacrifices and prayers for a good harvest, and as much off-limits to ordinary Chinese as the Forbidden City. Now it’s a recreational facility for the local lǎo bǎi xìng (老百姓, ‘old hundred names’ — ordinary people), who fly kites, practise tàijíquán and martial arts, sing opera and play traditional musical instruments — activities which tend to add to the attraction for the foreign visitor, especially since there are fewer funfair rides and less of the piped music of many other parks. There’s some matchmaking here, too (see Zhōngshān Park).
The buildings, altars, and enclosures have the themes of earth, signified by square shapes, and heaven, signified by round ones. The outer wall of Tiān Tán Gōngyuán is square on the south side and rounded on the north, and some of the interior enclosures follow the same plan.
So important were the rites performed here that when at the winter solstice of 1915 President of the Republic Yuán Shìkǎi revived them and went to the altar himself, it was taken as a clear public announcement of his intention to place himself on the throne. As imperial tutor Reginald Johnston sardonically remarked, ‘Unfortunately the ceremony was shorn of much of its traditional beauty and stateliness by the fact that Yuán thought it necessary to ensure his own safety by proceeding from the palace to the Altar of Heaven in an armoured car.’
As you enter from the north, the first major building is the perfectly circular Qínián Diàn (祈年殿, Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests) which is possibly the most beautiful ancient hall in Běijīng. It’s painted in blue, green, and gold, its ground floor surrounded by red latticed doors. The triple-layered roofs are a deep blue, reflecting its heavenly focus, and topped with a large gold knob.
It stands on a triple-layered marble terrace and is heavily decorated both internally and externally, a superb dragon-phoenix relief in the centre of the ceiling being mirrored by a naturally mottled marble circular slab on the floor. The hall is entirely constructed of wood, supposedly without the use of nails, and its roof is supported by 28 pillars, including four of particularly massive girth, all made from single tree trunks. It was struck by lightning and burned down in 1889, and has been restored several times since being rebuilt. The original timber for the main pillars came from Yúnnán Province, but signs fail to mention that the 19th-century replacements came from Oregon, since by then China no longer had tall enough trees.
The hall was used for displaying the tablets of the emperor’s ancestors and for ceremonies before he proceeded to the sacrificial altar. You can stand at the doors, but only swallows enter now to perform aerobatics around the pillars of the interior, just as they do in a similar building at the Qīng imperial summer resort at Chéngdé.
Small halls on the east and west sides of the compound were once used to worship various weather-influencing gods, but now the one to the east houses a small exhibition of Chinese traditional musical instruments and a model of a Chinese orchestra in full swing with recorded accompaniment. The west hall is a gift shop.
Just south of here a path leads to the west entrance and to the Zhāi Gōng (斋宫, Palace of Abstinence), where the emperor, who fasted for three days, spent the night before the ceremonial sacrifice. The palace is like a Forbidden City in miniature, walled and moated (although the moat is now dry), and during the occupation of Běijīng by the forces of the Eight Allied Powers in 1901, this building was the British headquarters, and the emperor’s personal apartments became the sleeping quarters of the British officers. In the northeast corner there is a two-storey bell tower, built in 1742. This hall is only sometimes open to the public.
Return to the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, from where a broad, raised walk leads south to the second main group of buildings. The Huángqióngyǔ (皇穹宇, Imperial Vault of Heaven), a lower, round building used for storing material used in the ceremony, is enclosed in a perfectly circular wall. This is said to function in the same way as the Whispering Gallery at St Paul’s, London, or the gallery at the Duomo in Florence, reflecting the sound of words spoken near the wall to listeners also near it but some distance away or even on the opposite side of the enclosure. But it is impossible to find sufficiently quiet conditions to test the effect. Once local visitors pressed their ears against the wall itself, making it impossible for them to hear sound anyway, but now they are hindered from doing so by a fence. Instead they shout loudly enough at it to ensure that their voices are heard on the other side of Běijīng, let alone on the other side of the compound, much as many use their mobile phones.
Leading from the base of the stairs to the hall is a row of three flagstones. To stand on one and clap produces the expected single echo, but to repeat the action on the second produces two echoes, and the third three. The compound is full of the sound of desultory applause as many visitors experiment and none gives way to others. To experience the eerie acoustics of curved enclosures, visit the Western Qīng Tombs.
The final major feature is the Huán Qiū (圜丘), usually known as the Circular Mound, although the huán character is not the one for ring (环) but for mediate. This, not the visitor-attracting Hall of Prayer, was the focus of the site and was where the complicated three-part ceremony of supplication took place, culminating with the burning of a bullock killed earlier. The multiple-layered round altar is enclosed in both round and square walls, symbolising the earth’s appeal to heaven. Buildings to the east held the sacrificial implements, the tents that covered the ceremony, and were where the butchering of the animals took place.
▶ Tiān Tán Gōngyuán, t 6701 2483, en.tiantanpark.com, summer 8am–6pm; spring & autumn 8am–4pm; winter 8am–3.30pm. Apr–Oct ¥35; otherwise ¥30. Park only ¥15. m Tiān Tán Dōng Mén (Line 5). b to 天坛西门 (west gate): 2, 特11, 17, 20, 专30, 35, 36环行, 69, 71, 93, 120, 504, 707, 729. 天坛北门 (north gate): 6, 34, 35, 36环行, 106电, 110, 687, 707. 天坛体育场 (east gate): 25, 36环行, 39, 525, 610, 685, 686, 723, 827, 829, 957, 958. 天坛南门 (south gate): 特3, 特11, 特12内环, 特12外环, 36环行, 53, 运通102线, 120, 122, 525, 610, 958.
From the west gate it’s a short walk through the former entertainment district of Tiān Qiáo to the Altar of Agriculture. Walk west along Nán Wěi Lù (南纬路) and turn left into Dōng Jīng Lù (东经路).
Next in South of Qián Mén: Altars for all Seasons (story)
Previous: Máo’s Maze (story)
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