Ching Dynasty Beauty

This gorgeous 1850's yixing teapot belongs to Kai, a serious yixing collector and frequent visitor to the shop. Until this post, there's only been a handful of us lucky enough to see pieces from Kai's private collection. He brought along this Xianfeng Era teapot a couple Fridays ago. It fit perfectly in my palm and I felt the supple clay come to life as I warmed it with my hands.
I ask him if his teapot will pose for photos while he's having tea. He's more than accommodating, "You can keep it till my next visit. I have faith in you." I'm touched by his generosity and trust. But then he (half-joking) made me understand any serious damage to his pot would result in the immediate surrender of my strand of Tahitian black pearls. I guess it's easier to have faith when it's bolstered by collateral : )
Afraid my recent streak of clumsiness would result in 20 grand worth of pretty pottery shards and the loss of one cherished necklace, I hurriedly snapped some pics and returned the teapot to Kai before he left. Part of me wanted to keep it forever.

Lush peonies, chrysanthemum and even a sprig of bamboo are topped with a decorated finial.

Kai says this teapot was most likely produced for export to the West. Although the body is a traditional Yixing pear shape, the illustration and decorative accents would not have appealed to Asian tastes. I love how the unusual amalgam of styles makes it exotic even among other Yixing pieces.

Even the spout has some abstract adornment; something I've never seen before.More decorative glaze on the handle. Although the art is quite elaborate for such a small teapot, the simple shape supports all the incredible detail. Not an artist's stamp but a carved inscription. One that was difficult for us to make out.Fanciful butterflies play in a garden of floral delights. Even the wings have elegant streaks of gold!
I wish I could convey to everyone just how incredible the clay felt. There was something buttery and smooth in texture. It seemed to pull the heat away from my hands and I could have held on to this perfect little gongfu pot for a long time.

Remnants of a past

This beautiful shard of porcelain used to be a gaiwan. A notably elegant one that managed to stay intact for over 50 years until one day, several years ago, it was dropped by Winnie. Even dainty, gracile Winnie has clumsy moments (not me... I have clumsy weeks). This one resulted in shattered porcelain. Naturally, Winnie was upset over the loss of a favorite tea vessel. Michael helped her pick up the pieces but instead of throwing them away, he insisted they keep every shard found. " You never know, we may find a way to use them again", he said. "Besides, it's still beautiful to look at."
Picking through remains, I had to agree. Still beautiful...

The reason Michael and Winnie wanted to show me these fragments: This exquisite bird.

There's something poignant about this delicate bird, separated from it's tree. Pert and lively, it looks as if it will sing or fly away at any moment.A beautiful show of brushwork from beak to tail feathers.

Speaking of porcelain remnants...

Here are a pair of identical lids long separated from their cups. As I mentioned in my previous post, surviving lids can have a second life as shallow cups for tea or rice wine. I can only imagine how beautiful the missing cups and saucers were.
These lids are reproduction pieces from 1900 - 1950.
The stamp on the lid says it was made in QianLong era. That tells us the original design was produced between 1736 - 1795 during the Ching Dynasty. The playful pattern is delicately embossed. Bright colors are subtly brought together, enhancing the lyrical design.

Whether it's saving the unbroken parts of a gaiwan or holding onto a handful of shards, there is still beauty to be found, new perspectives to be learned. I'll think twice before judging something just because it's less than whole.

Til next time...

Vintage Gaiwans

I ask Michael if I can take photos of his vintage gaiwan collection to share with some friends on the web. "Just be careful with them," he says as he watches me raid the cabinets. "It's hard to find the older styles." Knowing the hefty price tag on some of them, I'm very careful with the gaiwans. But I do trip over a wire and knock his super expensive camera off the table. Surprisingly, he allows me to live and continue taking photos. Here are a few of my favorites. No gaiwans were harmed in the making of this post.

Lively brushwork on a rich orange surface. Michael believes this piece was crafted as early as the 1930's. Vintage gaiwans enhance a collection with different clay, discontinued colors and shapes. There's a variety of artistic styles missing in more modern forms; not to mention a level of creative expression that was stamped out during the Cultural Revolution.

A playful piece with bold primary colors. Is it a psychedelic plant creature with multiple heads? Was the artist recreating a childhood dream or nightmare?

From retro outburst to an elegant floral motif.
It seems there really is a style for every mood and every tea.

Let's compare a pre-Cultural Revolution gaiwan to it's modern counterpart:

Many older gaiwans are characterized by a bluish-grey tint to the porcelain. A hue made more apparent when compared to this modern gaiwan with it's milky white complexion. It's not hard to see why the short, shallow nob and straight walls of older styles have fallen out of vogue. It takes a skilled tea brewer with adroit, nerve-deadened fingers to maintain a secure grip on this type of vessel filled with dangerously hot tea. Newer gaiwans generally have a tall, easy-to-grasp nob and a flared rim that allows for a comfortable grip.

What's the safest way to handle a vintage lid with a shallow nob? Pinch one side of the nob with thumb and index finger and brace the middle finger against the opposite side of the nob.

Another eye-popping design. This one I've used (very carefully) for tea tastings. I love to pair a decades old gaiwan with an equally old tea. The opportunities are rare but the experiences are unforgettable.

A more traditional looking piece with delicate artwork. Little details like the cobalt blue mountain peaks add something precious to the already graceful scene. Subdued and refined.

For a more contemplative tea experience. A rare find: the skillful brush strokes and delicate coloring by the artist increases the value of this piece from the 1930's. Sadly, many gaiwans of this caliber do not survive the decades of use. Often times, cups are missing lids or vice versa. But separate pieces still have a value and use. What was once a beautiful lid can be flipped over and used as a shallow tea or rice wine cup. The nob now becomes a little foot. New life for old porcelain.