The Image of Music and Sound in Xunzi's 'On Music': A Study of Character, Cosmos, and the Cultivation of Rites and Music

Chapter Four: The Intent of Dance: Body, Rhythm, and Group Harmony

Section 1: Unfolding the Inquiry: "How is the Intent of Dance Known$24" ($\text{hé yǐ zhī wǔ zhī yì}$)$25

The third passage in the original text unfolds through a question-and-answer format, leading to a deeper inquiry into the meaning of dance:

"How is the intent of dance known$26" ($\text{hé yǐ zhī wǔ zhī yì}$)$27

This question is highly insightful. Why does Master Xunzi direct this question specifically to "dance" ($\text{wǔ}$) and not to the drum, bell, or chime stone$28

The answer lies in the unique nature of dance. The qualities of instrumental music can be perceived through "hearing"—hearing the drum’s grand beauty, one knows it; hearing the bell’s substantial synthesis, one knows it. The quality of song can also be perceived through hearing—hearing the song’s purity and exhaustion, one knows it. Only dance—its meaning resides not in "sound" but in "movement," perceived not by "hearing" but by "seeing." If the meaning were merely visual beauty, there would be no need to ask "How is the intent of dance known$29"; one could simply state, "The form of the dance is beautiful." Xunzi asks about the "intent" ($\text{yì}$), meaning the deep significance behind the dancer’s movements—that inaudible "intent."

This raises an epistemological question: How can one discern the inaudible "intent" from the visible "form" (the dancer's movements)$30 This question mirrors the Yijing's mode of inquiry—observing the external "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$) to grasp the internal "principle" ($\text{lǐ}$).

Section 2: "Eyes Do Not See Themselves, Ears Do Not Hear Themselves" ($\text{mù bù zì jiàn, ěr bù zì wén}$) — The State of Self-Transcendence

Xunzi’s answer begins unexpectedly:

"It is said: The eyes do not see themselves, the ears do not hear themselves." ($\text{yuē: mù bù zì jiàn, ěr bù zì wén yě}$).

What does this mean$31 The eyes cannot see their own operation; the ears cannot hear their own reception.

At first glance, this seems irrelevant to dance. However, upon careful consideration, this reveals Xunzi’s profound insight.

"The eyes do not see themselves" ($\text{mù bù zì jiàn}$)—When dancing, the dancer cannot see their own posture. The dancer does not observe their movements from an external perspective. In other words, the dancer’s grasp of their own actions is not achieved through visual self-monitoring but through the body’s internal sense.

"The ears do not hear themselves" ($\text{ěr bù zì wén}$)—While dancing, the ears can hear the music, but "the ears do not hear themselves" should be understood here as the dancer not consciously "listening" to grasp the rhythm. Instead, the body has completely merged with the rhythm, which has been internalized as the body's natural movement, requiring no deliberate auditory control.

This is a supreme state—the transcendence of self-consciousness. In this highest state, the dancer no longer "watches themselves" (no self-scrutiny) and no longer "listens to themselves" (no self-monitoring). They are completely immersed in the dance, and the body moves naturally according to an inner rhythm.

This state deeply resonates with Zhuangzi’s discussion of "forgetting" ($\text{wàng}$). In Zhuangzi: The Way of Authenticity ($\text{Dá Shēng}$), the carpenter Ziqing carves a gǔ (a ritual drum stand):

"When the stand was finished, those who saw it were startled as if by ghosts or spirits. The Marquis of Lu saw it and asked: 'What technique did you use to achieve this$32' He replied: 'I am merely a craftsman, what technique do I have! Nevertheless, there is one thing. When I was about to carve the stand, I fasted for three days so that I did not dare to harbor thoughts of praise, reward, or status. After five days, I dared not harbor thoughts of criticism or praise, of skill or clumsiness. On the seventh day, I forgot that I possessed four limbs and two eyes... Then I went into the forest and observed the nature of the wood... When the form of the wood presented itself to me, I then applied my hand to it. Otherwise, I would have stopped... Thus, when the Dao unites with the Dao, the vessel is able to mystify the spirits. Is this not the case$33'"

"On the seventh day, I forgot that I possessed four limbs and two eyes"—forgetting the physical body. "When the Dao unites with the Dao"—uniting the inherent nature of the self with the inherent nature of the material. This state of "forgetting the body" ($\text{wàng shēn}$) corresponds to Xunzi’s "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself"—the dancer forgets the self-awareness of the body, forgets the external sound, and allows the body’s natural rhythm to align with the music’s natural rhythm.

However, Xunzi and Zhuangzi differ fundamentally on the path to this state. Zhuangzi’s "forgetting" aims at individual freedom—forgetting all social norms and self-consciousness to return to natural essence ($\text{tiān xìng}$). Xunzi’s "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" points toward collective harmony—the dancer forgets the self not to return to nature, but to better obey the collective rhythm ("in order to meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence"). This difference reflects the core divergence between Confucianism and Daoism regarding the "body"—Daoism seeks the body’s freedom, while Confucianism uses the body as a means of ritualistic discipline.

Nonetheless, they share a commonality: both point to a higher state beyond the conscious control of the self. In this state, action flows naturally without deliberate calculation—one no longer needs to "think about how to do it." The difference is that Zhuangzi believes this state is reached by "removing artifice and returning to truth" ($\text{qù wěi guī zhēn}$), while Xunzi believes it is reached by "transforming nature and completing artifice" ($\text{huà xìng chéng xí}$) through repeated training, allowing ritual music to become a second nature.

Section 3: Regulating Bending, Rising, Advancing, and Hastening ($\text{zhì fǔ yǎng, qū xìn, jìn tuì, chí sù}$) — The Order of the Body

"Yet, they regulate (govern) the bending and stretching, rising and falling, advancing and retreating, slowing and hastening" ($\text{rán ér zhì fǔ yǎng, qū xìn, jìn tuì, chí sù}$)—Yet, they are able to govern (control, normalize) the actions of rising and falling, bending and stretching, advancing and retreating, and slowing and hastening.

The character "govern" ($\text{zhì}$) is crucial. In pre-Qin usage, $\text{zhì}$ means to rectify, control, or standardize, contrasting with "chaos" ($\text{luàn}$). This governance ($\text{zhì}$) is the human effort to transform chaotic, natural states into orderly, cultural ones. The dancer's "governance" ($\text{zhì}$) of these bodily movements means bringing all possible human movements under the control of prescribed order, transforming the chaotic natural state into an orderly cultural state.

The four pairs of terms—fǔ yǎng (down/up), qū xìn (bend/stretch), jìn tuì (advance/retreat), chí sù (slow/fast)—exhaust the fundamental dimensions of human motion:

• Fǔ Yǎng: Vertical dimension.
• Qū Xìn: Articulation dimension (opening/closing of joints).
• Jìn Tuì: Anterior/Posterior dimension.
• Chí Sù: Temporal dimension (speed).

By covering these four opposing categories, Xunzi logically encompasses all possible bodily movements. The dancer "governs" ($\text{zhì}$) these four pairs—incorporating all potential human motion into an ordered regulation.

We must ask: Why use four pairs of "opposing categories" to describe bodily movement$34 Up vs. Down, Bend vs. Stretch, Retreat vs. Advance, Slow vs. Fast—all are complementary pairs.

This strongly resonates with the pre-Qin concept of Yin and Yang. The Yijing, Great Treatise states:

"One Yin and one Yang is called the Dao."

All things can be described by the dualistic framework of Yin and Yang. Rising is Yang, falling is Yin; stretching is Yang, bending is Yin; advancing is Yang, retreating is Yin; hastening is Yang, slowing is Yin. The dancer’s body constantly alternates between Yin and Yang, just as the Dao of Heaven alternates between Yin and Yang—an unceasing cycle.

The "Dao of Heaven" ($\text{tiān dào}$) mentioned in "Dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven" gains a concrete meaning here—the core of the Dao of Heaven is the alternation of Yin and Yang, and the bodily actions of the dancer are likewise an alternation of Yin and Yang. The dancer uses the body’s rising/falling, bending/stretching, advancing/retreating, and slowing/hastening to simulate the ebb and flow of the Dao of Heaven. This is the profound meaning of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$)—dance interprets the entirety of the Dao's intention through bodily movement.

Section 4: "None Lacks Clear Regulation" ($\text{mò bù lián zhì}$) — The Ritual of the Body

"None is without clear regulation" ($\text{mò bù lián zhì}$)—All these bodily movements are crisp, distinct, and conform to established measure.

The term "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) was used earlier to describe the chime stone. Here, it describes the dancer’s movements. "Pure/Angular" ($\text{lián}$) means clear and distinct, with sharp edges; "Regulated" ($\text{zhì}$) means restraint and adherence to rule. Describing the dancer’s movements with "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) implies that every rise, fall, bend, stretch, advance, retreat, slow, or fast movement must be sharp, clean, and precise, without ambiguity, and must be measured, neither excessive nor deficient.

The term "none" ($\text{mò bù}$) emphasizes universality—every action conforms to "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$). This is an extremely high requirement. Consider dozens of people dancing simultaneously while exerting full physical effort—to have every single movement land exactly on the rhythm of the bell and drum ($\text{yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) requires extraordinary physical control and rhythmic sense!

This "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) echoes the quality of the chime stone. The chime stone’s quality is "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$), derived naturally from its material (stone). The dancer’s movement is also "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$), but this is not a natural state—human movements in their natural state are chaotic (think of a child’s spontaneous movements). The dancer’s "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) is the achievement of postnatal training, the embodiment of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$).

This perfectly reflects the essence of Xunzi’s theory of $\text{Lǐ}$ ($\text{Ritual}$):

"Ritual ($\text{Lǐ}$) is that by which the self is rectified ($\text{zhèng shēn}$)." (Xunzi, On Self-Cultivation)

The function of $\text{Lǐ}$ is to "rectify the self"—to standardize bodily conduct. Dance training is the most thorough form of "rectifying the self"—bringing every bodily action under the regulation of $\text{Lǐ}$. The "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) achieved by the dancer is the highest realization of $\text{Lǐ}$ on the physical plane.

Furthermore, Xunzi: On Rites ($\text{Lǐ Lùn}$) states:

"Ritual ($\text{Lǐ}$) is the ultimate human way ($\text{rén dào zhī jí}$)."

Ritual is the limit of the human way. Dance, as the art form that embodies "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) using the entire body, can be considered the ultimate expression of "Ritual" ($\text{Lǐ}$)—the ultimate realization of $\text{Lǐ}$ in the body.

Section 5: Exhausting Strength to Meet the Bell and Drum's Convergence ($\text{jìn jīn gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) — Unity of Strength and Measure

"Exhausting the strength of sinew and bone ($\text{jìn jīn gǔ zhī lì}$), in order to meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence ($\text{yǐ yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$)"—This reveals the dancer must exert maximal physical effort while precisely coordinating with the complex rhythms set by the bell and drum.

This sentence hinges on two key terms: "exhausting" ($\text{jìn}$) and "seeking/meeting" ($\text{yào}$).

"Exhausting" ($\text{jìn}$): To use up completely. "Exhausting the strength of sinew and bone" means deploying the full physical power of the entire body. This shows that dance is not a light or casual affair but a solemn activity demanding full commitment of body and spirit. The dancer cannot be lazy, superficial, or hold back—they must "exhaust" ($\text{jìn}$) their strength.

"Seeking/Meeting" ($\text{yào}$): To demand, aspire to, or seek to match. "To meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence" ($\text{yǐ yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) means striving to align with the rhythmic points created by the interaction of the bell and drum. "Convergence" ($\text{fǔ huì}$) refers to the downward movements and the intersection of various rhythmic markers. The target is the precise rhythmic moment set by the combined sound of the bell and drum.

This sentence reveals the core requirement of dance: the unification of strength and measure. The dancer must simultaneously achieve two things: "exhaust strength" (full bodily exertion) and "align with the measure" ($\text{hé jié}$) (precise coordination with the music’s rhythm). These two seemingly simple tasks are extremely difficult to achieve simultaneously.

"Exhausting strength" implies maximum intensity in all bodily movements—wide rising and falling, vigorous leaps, rapid turns. To ensure that every movement lands exactly on the bell and drum's rhythm ($\text{yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) during such high-intensity motion requires immense physical control and rhythmic sensitivity.

We must ask: Why must the dancer "exhaust the strength of sinew and bone"$35 Why can't dance be merely light and elegant, requiring little effort$36

The answer lies in the nature of pre-Qin music and dance. The great dances of the pre-Qin period—such as Da Wu ($\text{Dà Wǔ}$, the Grand Martial Dance, accompanying the music celebrating King Wu’s conquest of Shang)—were not delicate court dances but grand, powerful group performances. Dancers held shields and battle-axes ($\text{gān qī}$), enacting combat maneuvers. The Book of Rites: Record of Music describes the steps of Da Wu:

"When the Martial Music is prepared and its beginning is laid out, why is it so$37 ... Moreover, in the Martial Music, in the first section, they move northward; in the second, they extinguish Shang; in the third, they move south; in the fourth, they demarcate the southern states; in the fifth, they divide the territory; in the sixth, Duke Zhou is on the left, Duke Shao on the right, and they converge, honoring the Son of Heaven."

This describes the dance movements mimicking King Wu’s military campaign against Shang—a large-scale dance simulating military action, naturally requiring the "exhaustion of sinew and bone."

Even in the civil dances (like Da Shao), pre-Qin dance required total bodily commitment. The dancer's "exhaustion of sinew and bone" is not just a physical demand but an attitudinal requirement—engaging in dance with utmost sincerity and full effort, daring not to slacken in the least. This embodies the manifestation of "Reverence" ($\text{jìng}$) as stated in the Analects, Xue Er:

"The Master said: 'Be serious in handling affairs and trustworthy in your speech.'" ($\text{Jìng shì ér xìn}$)

The dancer's "exhausting of sinew and bone" is the attitude of "reverence" ($\text{jìng}$) applied to the performance of dance.

Section 6: "And There Is No Contrariness" ($\text{ér mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$) — No Deviation

"And there is no contrariness" ($\text{ér mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$)—And there is not a single instance of deviation or disorder.

"Mí" means "no"; "contrary" ($\text{bèi nì}$) means violation or chaos. This sentence emphasizes that in the midst of full physical exertion, not one single movement violates the rhythm of the bell and drum—all actions precisely coordinate with the music, without a single error.

How difficult this is! Imagine dozens, perhaps hundreds, of dancers moving simultaneously with full physical exertion, yet every movement of every person lands exactly on the rhythm of the bell and drum—no one makes a mistake, no movement is misplaced. This requires immense training, coordination, and skill!

This immediately reveals the admiring tone of Master Xunzi. "No contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$)—this perfect group coordination is an extraordinary achievement in Xunzi's view. It proves the effectiveness of "the cultivation of rites and music" ($\text{lǐ yuè jiào huà}$): through long-term training, people can move from a chaotic, disorderly natural state to a highly ordered cultural state.

This also contains a subtle political philosophy. "No contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$) implies no rebellion—no one violates the rules or acts disorderly. This is the very picture of an ideal political order: in a state governed by a Sage-King, subjects accept their stations and fulfill their duties, "no one rebels or acts contrary." The harmony of music and dance is a miniature reflection of political harmony.

Xunzi: On Music explicitly develops this idea elsewhere:

"When music is performed in the ancestral temple, the ruler and ministers, the high and the low, listen together, and none is not harmonious and respectful. Within the chambers, father and son, older and younger brothers listen together, and none is not harmonious and kind. Among the village elders and clan leaders, the young and old listen together, and none is not harmonious and compliant."

The function of music is to make people "harmonious and respectful" ($\text{hé jìng}$), "harmonious and kind" ($\text{hé qīn}$), and "harmonious and compliant" ($\text{hé shùn}$) in all social relations. The scene of "no contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$) in dance is the most direct presentation of this social harmony.

Section 7: "The Multitude Accumulates Intent, Profoundly Harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$)! — The Ultimate State of Group Harmony

"The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$)!—This sentence concludes the passage with an exclamation, reaching the climax of the entire section.

"Multitude" ($\text{zhòng}$): The masses of dancers, the entire body of participants.

"Accumulates Intent" ($\text{jī yì}$): The intent accumulated through effort. The character "accumulate" ($\text{jī}$) is extremely important in Xunzi’s thought. Xunzi: Exhortation to Learning ($\text{Quàn Xué}$) states:

"Accumulate soil to make a mountain, and winds and rains arise; accumulate water to make an abyss, and dragons and serpents emerge; accumulate goodness to make virtue, and the spiritual mind is spontaneously attained, and the Sage’s heart is complete."

"Accumulate" ($\text{jī}$) is a process of moving from little to much, from shallow to deep. "The multitude accumulates intent" ($\text{zhòng jī yì}$) refers to the deep and rich consensus achieved by the many dancers through long-term training and repeated accumulation—a synergy that transcends mere words.

"Profoundly Harmonious!" ($\text{zhōng zhōng hū}$): $\text{Zhōng zhōng}$ is an iterative compound word describing a state of harmony that is calm, measured, and unhurried. This couplet evokes a sense of peace, tranquility, and profound well-being.

The entire sentence means: The state of collective intention achieved by the dancers through long-term, accumulated training is so profoundly peaceful and harmonious!

This concluding exclamation pushes the passage to an emotional peak. Xunzi is not merely analyzing the technique of dance but expressing genuine admiration for the aesthetic beauty of group harmony presented in dance. This beauty is not just visual or auditory, but also moral and spiritual—it is a microcosm of the highest cultural achievement possible through "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$).

The emphasis on "multitude" ($\text{zhòng}$) in "the multitude accumulates intent" ($\text{zhòng jī yì}$) highlights the collective over the individual. Xunzi’s focus is consistently on overall social harmony, not individual freedom or liberation—a sharp contrast to Zhuangzi. Xunzi: The Kingly Way states:

"Why can men form groups ($\text{qún}$)$38 Because they have distinctions ($\text{fēn}$). Why can distinctions be implemented$39 Because they have righteousness ($\text{yì}$)."

The reason people form groups is due to "distinctions" (social divisions and hierarchies); these "distinctions" can be implemented because of "righteousness" (legitimacy and moral constraint). The group harmony in dance is the most vivid manifestation of this ideal social state—the multitude works together in coordination, each having their role and action, ultimately achieving a state of natural, peaceful harmony.