Porcelain

by Edward Dillon

In the case of the pale opaque blue (to which the name of turquoise may be applied more aptly than to the sky-coloured transparent blues of the demi grand feu), the surface of the enamel is sometimes painted with an irregular net-work of black lines, as if in imitation of some kind of marble. This turquoise enamel towards the end of Kien-lung’s reign was often applied to the surface of large vases, and when in combination with a lemon-yellow decoration the effect is even more unpleasant than when used alone.

We have mentioned, when speaking of Yung-cheng’s reign, a valuable list of the various kinds of porcelain made at that time at King-te-chen. We must now refer to another document, quoted, like the list of Nien’s time, in all the Chinese books dealing with the history of the imperial porcelain works. The emperor Kien-lung, it would appear, when overhauling certain manuscripts preserved in the palace, came upon a series of twenty water-colour drawings illustrating the manufacture of porcelain. He at once summoned Tang-ying, the famous superintendent at King-te-chen, to Pekin, and, handing over the drawings, commanded him to prepare a full description of all the processes illustrated in these pictures. This was in 1743, shortly before Tang’s retirement. The drawings themselves have never been made public; but we have in Tang’s report what is, after the letters of the Jesuit father, our most important source for the technical details of the manufacture of porcelain in China. With these details we are not concerned just now, but we will quote from Dr. Bushell’s translation a disquisition on certain principles that should govern the forms and decoration of porcelain. This is a kind of obiter dictum of Tang-ying, à propos of the fashioning and painting of vases. In his flowery style he tells us (I abbreviate in a few places): ‘In the decoration of porcelain correct canons of art should be followed. The designs should be taken from the patterns of old brocades and embroidery; the colours from a garden as seen in spring-time from a pavilion. There is an abundance of specimens of ware of the Sung dynasty at hand to be copied; the elements of nature supply an inexhaustible fund of materials for new combinations of supernatural beauty. Natural objects are modelled to be fashioned in moulds and painted in appropriate colours. The materials of the potter’s art are derived from forests and streams, and ornamental themes are supplied by the same natural sources.‘[68] It is a strange fancy which connects the decoration of a vase with the source of the materials with which it is made. Elsewhere, speaking of the painting of the blue and white ware, Tang-ying says: ‘For painting of flowers and of birds, fishes and water-plants, and living objects generally, the study of nature is the first requisite. In the imitation of Ming porcelain and of ancient pieces, the sight of many specimens brings skill.’ We see in this a kind of hesitation, a balancing between two influences—the naturalistic and the traditional—which is characteristic of the period.

We may call attention, by the way, to the important place that is given in this report to the process of moulding in the fashioning of a vase, especially as supplementary to the throwing on the wheel, and above all, to the care required in the turning and polishing on the jigger or lathe to ensure accuracy of outline in the finished piece.

The last picture described by Tang-ying illustrates the worshipping of the local god and the offering of sacrifice. And we are told the story of how, when the great dragon-bowls failed time after time, and when, in consequence, the workmen were harassed by the eunuchs sent down by the Ming emperor, Tung the potter leaped into the furnace; and how, after this sacrifice, when the kilns were opened, the bowls were at last found perfect in shape and brilliant in colour. So Tung was worshipped as the potter’s god; and, indeed, Tang-ying tells us, as a voucher for the truth of his story, that in his time one of these very dragon fish-bowls, ‘compounded of the blood and bones of the deity,’ still stood in the courtyard of the temple, a witness to the sacrifice (Bushell, chapter xv).

Tang-ying resigned his post in 1746; his influence was therefore only felt during the first years of Kien-lung’s long reign. His is the last name that can be personally connected with any Chinese ware, unless it be that of the emperor his master.

Kien-lung was a poet, and a very productive one—his complete works were published in an edition of 360 volumes, containing nearly 34,000 separate compositions. These are generally occasional pieces suggested by the aspects of nature. Such verses are not unfrequently found on the egg-shell porcelain of his time, signed, too, with the vermilion pencil. There is quite a long poem of his on a dish of thin ware now in the Musée Guimet in Paris.

The emperor interested himself in a new kind of opaque glass made in Pekin by a skilful artist, one Hu, and he sent specimens of this ware to King-te-chen to be imitated in the nobler material, as he deemed it. This was effected by means of a very vitreous paste, and the little snuff-bottles moulded in high relief in this material are much prized both by Chinese and American collectors.

There was, indeed, at this time a rage for imitating other substances in porcelain, which was doubtless fostered by the increased command of technical processes and of new colours. A good deal of the porcelain covered with black or sometimes brown lacquer,[69] inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the laque burgauté of the French, dates perhaps from an earlier period. But the little snuff-bottles, imitating jade, pudding-stone, agate, turquoise, as well as silver, gold, and bronze of varied patinas, or again the rusted surface of iron—to say nothing of wood, bamboo, and mother-of-pearl—may, with few exceptions, be attributed to this time. We may compare such work to the contemporary triumphs of the Japanese in lacquer.[70]

But by the middle of the century it is no longer the demand of the court that gives the general tone to the productions of King-te-chen. The taste for Oriental wares had spread among the middle classes in Europe. The English were taking the place of the Dutch as the principal exporters, and this change was reflected in a demand for a gaudy ware crowded with a motley array of figures, the ‘mandarin china’ properly so called. As to the extensive class of porcelain painted with coats-of-arms and other European designs, a class well represented in the British Museum, we will only mention that the greater part was decorated at this time by a special school of artists at Canton, though some pieces date from a somewhat earlier period.

Kia-king (1795-1820), the son and successor of Kien-lung, was like his father a poet, but a man of weak and dissolute character. The high finish of the previous reign was, however, maintained, and the pieces marked with this emperor’s name are sought after by Chinese collectors.