Chapter 11 of 18 · 7585 words · ~38 min read

CHAPTER XI

K’ANG HSI MONOCHROMES

In passing to the K’ang Hsi monochromes we enter a large field with boundaries ill defined. Many of the colours are legacies from the Ming potters, and most of them were handed on to after generations; some indeed have enjoyed an unbroken descent to the present day. Consequently there are few things more difficult in the study of Chinese porcelain than the dating of single-colour wares.

In some cases the origin of a particular glaze has been recorded, and within certain limits the style of the piece will guide us in assessing its age; but how often must we be content with some such non-committal phrase as “early eighteenth century,” which embraces the late K’ang Hsi, the Yung Chêng and the early Ch’ien Lung periods? On the other hand, the careful student observes certain points of style and finish, certain slight peculiarities of form which are distinctive of the different periods, and on these indefinite signs he is able to classify the doubtful specimens. To the inexpert his methods may seem arbitrary and mysterious, but his principles, though not easy to enunciate, are sound nevertheless.

[Illustration: Plate 109.--Figure of Shou Lao, Taoist God of Longevity.

Porcelain painted with _famille verte_ enamels. K’ang Hsi period (1662–1722). Height 17¼ inches. _Salting Collection_ (_V. & A. Museum_).]

We have already had occasion to discuss a few of the K’ang Hsi monochromes in dealing with the question of _lang yao_. But besides the _sang de bœuf_ there is another rare and costly red to which the Americans have given the expressive name of “peach bloom.” Since their first acquaintance with this colour in the last half of the nineteenth century,[323] American collectors have been enamoured of it, and as they have never hesitated to pay vast sums for good specimens, most of the fine “peach blooms” have found their way to the United States, and choice examples are rare in England. “The prevailing shade,” to quote from Bushell’s description, “is a pale red, becoming pink in some parts, in others mottled with russet spots, displayed upon a background of light green celadon tint. The last colour occasionally comes out more prominently, and deepens into clouds of bright apple green tint.” The Chinese, in comparing the colour, have thought of the apple rather than the peach; it is _p’in-kuo hung_ (apple red), and the markings on it are _p’in-kuo ch’ing_ (apple green), and _mei kuei tzŭ_ (rose crimson). Another Chinese name for the colour is _chiang-tou hung_ (bean red), in allusion to the small Chinese kidney-bean with its variegated pink colour and brown spots.

It is generally supposed that, like the _sang de bœuf_, the “peach bloom” owes its hue to copper oxide, and that all the accessory tints, the russet brown and apple green, are due to happy accidents befalling the same colouring medium in the changeful atmosphere of the kiln.[324] This precious glaze is usually found on small objects such as water pots and brush washers for the writing table (see Plate 111[325]), and snuff bottles, and a few small elegantly formed flower vases of bottle shape, with high shoulders and slender neck, the body sometimes moulded in chrysanthemum petal design, or, again, on vases of slender, graceful, ovoid form, with bodies tapering downwards, and the mouth rim slightly flaring. In every case the bottom of the vessel shows a fine white-glazed porcelain with unctuous paste, and the K’ang Hsi mark in six blue characters written in a delicate but very mannered calligraphy, which seems to be peculiar to this type of ware, and to a few choice _clair de lune_ and celadon vases of similar form and make.

The colour in the peach bloom glaze, as in the _sang de bœuf_, is sometimes fired out and fades into white or leaves a pale olive green surface with only a few spots of brown or pink to bear witness to the original intention of the potter. The glaze is sometimes crackled and occasionally it runs down in a thick crystalline mass at the base of the vessel.

Needless to say this costly porcelain has claimed the earnest attention of the modern imitator. The first real success was achieved by a Japanese potter at the end of the last century. He was able to make admirable copies of the colour, but failed to reproduce adequately the paste and glaze of the originals. I am told that he was persuaded to transfer his secret to China, and with the Chinese body his imitations were completely successful. The latter part of the story is based on hearsay, and is given as such; but it is certain that there are exceedingly clever modern copies of the old peach blooms in the market; otherwise how could an inexpert collector in China bring home half a dozen peach blooms bought at bargain prices?

The copper red used in painting underglaze designs[326] will sometimes develop a peach bloom colour, and there is a vase in the British Museum with parti-coloured glaze in large patches of blue, celadon, and a copper red which has broken into the characteristic tints of the peach bloom vases.

Another red of copper origin allied to the _sang de bœuf_ and the peach bloom, and at times verging on both, is the maroon red, which ranges from crimson to a deep liver colour. There are wine cups of this colour whose glaze clouded with deep crimson recalls the “dawn red” of the wine cups made by Hao Shih-chiu.[327] Sometimes the red covers part only of the surface, shading off into the white glaze. The finer specimens have either a crimson or a pinkish tinge, but far more often the glaze has issued from the kiln with a dull liver tint.

Naturally the value of the specimens varies widely with the beauty of the colour. The pinker shades approach within measurable distance of the pink of the peach bloom, and they are often classed with the latter by their proud owners; but the colour is usually uniform, and lacks the bursts of russet brown and green which variegate the true peach bloom, and the basis of the maroon is a pure white glaze without the celadon tints which seem to underlie the peach bloom. It may be added that the maroon red glaze is usually uncrackled.

As to the overglaze red, which is known by the names of _mo hung_ (painted red) and _ts’ai hung_ (enamel red), it is the colour derived from iron, and it was used both as one of the enamels of the _famille verte_ palette and as a monochrome. In both capacities it figured on Ming porcelain, and was fully discussed in that connection. On K’ang Hsi wares it varied in tone from dark brick red to a light orange, according to the density of the pigment, and in texture from a thin dry film to a lustrous enamel, according to the quantity of fluxing material[328] combined with it. Among the richly fluxed varieties is a fine tomato colour of light, translucent tone. Sometimes the iron red is found as sole medium for painted designs, as on a rouleau vase in the Salting collection, but more commonly it serves as a ground colour between panels of enamelled ornament (Plate 103), or in border passages. In these last two positions it is usually of a light orange shade, and broken by floral scrolls reserved in white. A dark shade of the same pigment is also used in diapers of curled scrolls, forming a groundwork for enamelled decoration. There are besides beautiful examples of a pure red monochrome formed of this colour, but I have only met with these among the later wares.

* * * * *

The blue monochromes include a large number of glazes varying in depth and shade with the quality and quantity of the cobalt which is mingled with the glazing material. These are _chiao ch’ing_ (blue monochrome glazes), and they are all high-fired colours. They include the _chi ch’ing_[329] or deep sky blue, whose darker shades are also named _ta ch’ing_ (_gros bleu_), the slaty blue, the pale clear blue,[330] the dark and light lavender shades, and the faintly tinted _clair de lune_ or “moon white” (_yüeh pai_), in which the amount of cobalt used must have been infinitesimal. But it would be useless to attempt to catalogue the innumerable shades of blue, which must have varied with every fresh mixture of colour and glaze and every fresh firing.

There is, however, another group materially different from the ordinary blue glazes. In this the colour was applied direct to the body, as in blue and white painting, and a colourless glaze subsequently added, with the natural result that the blue seems to be incorporated with the body of the ware rather than with the glaze. There were several ways of applying the colour, each producing a slightly different effect. The cobalt powder could be mixed with water, and washed on smoothly with a brush, or dabbed on with a sponge to give a marbled appearance, or it could be projected on to the moistened surface in a dry powder, through gauze stretched across the end of a bamboo tube.

The result of the last process was an infinity of minute specks of blue, a massing of innumerable points of colour. This is the well-known “powder blue,” the _bleu soufflé_, or blown blue described by Père d’Entrecolles in his second letter[331]: “As for the _soufflé_ blue called _tsoui tsim_ (_ch’ui ch’ing_), the finest blue, prepared in the manner which I have described, is used. This is blown on to the vase, and when it is dry the ordinary glaze is applied either alone or mixed with _tsoui yeou_ (_sui yu_), if crackle[332] is required.” We are further told that as on the blue and white a glaze softened with a considerable proportion of lime was necessary for the perfection of the colour.

The “powder blue” seems to have been a new invention in the K’ang Hsi period. Under the name of _ch’ui ch’ing_ (blown blue) it figures in the _T’ao lu_[333] among the triumphs of Ts’ang Ying-hsüan’s directorate. It is certainly a singularly beautiful colour effect, and worthy of the homage it has received from collectors and ceramic historians. Though the blue used was as a rule of the finest quality, it varied much in intensity and tone with the nature of the cobalt and amount applied. Probably the majority of collectors would give the palm to the darker shades, but tastes differ, and the lighter tones when the blue is pure sapphire have found whole-hearted admirers. A notable feature of the powder blue is its surprising brilliancy in artificial light, when most other porcelain colours suffer eclipse.

[Illustration: PLATE 110

Two examples of “Powder Blue” (_ch’ui ch’ing_) Porcelain of the K’ang Hsi period (1662–1722), in the Victoria and Albert Museum

Fig. 1.--Bottle of gourd shape with slender neck: powder blue ground with gilt designs from the Hundred Antiques (_po ku_) and borders of _ju-i_ pattern, formal flowers and plantain leaves. Height 7½ inches.

Fig. 2.--Bottle-shaped Vase with _famille verte_ panels of rockwork and flowers reserved in a powder blue ground. Height 7 inches. _Salting Collection._]

It was used indifferently as a simple monochrome or as a ground in which panel decoration was reserved, the panels painted in _famille_ _verte_ enamels or in blue and white; and in both cases the blue surface was usually embellished with light traceries in gold. Plate 110 illustrates both types. Both are highly prized by collectors, and change hands at high prices when of the good quality which is usual on the K’ang Hsi specimens. We have already noted[334] the occasional decoration of the powder blue ground with designs in _famille verte_ enamels, and Père d’Entrecolles[335] records another process of ornamentation which was applied to all the blue grounds of this group, viz. the washed, the sponged, and the powder blues: “There are workmen who trace designs with the point of a long needle on this blue whether _soufflé_ or otherwise; the needle removes as many little specks of dry blue as are necessary to form the design; then the glaze is put on.” From this precise description it is easy to recognise this simple but effective decoration. There are two examples in the British Museum with dragon designs etched in this fashion, the one in a washed blue, and the other in a sponged blue ground. The pattern appears in white outline where the blue has been removed by the needle and the porcelain body exposed.

Long usage has given sanction to the term “mazarine blue.” It was applied to the dark blue ground colour of eighteenth century English porcelain, and in the contemporary catalogues the name “mazareen” was given to any kind of deep blue from the mottled violet of Chelsea to the powdery _gros bleu_ of Worcester. In reference to Chinese porcelain it is used to-day with similar freedom for the _ta ch’ing_ or dark sky blue and for the powder blue. Assuming that the phrase derives from the famous Cardinal Mazarin, it cannot in its original sense have had any reference to powder blue, for the Cardinal died in 1661, and, if he had a weakness for blue monochrome, it must have been for some variety of the _chiao ch’ing_ or blue glazes proper which were current at the end of the Ming and the beginning of the Ch’ing dynasties. At the present day it is impossible to guess the true shade of mazarine blue, and we must be content to regard it as a phrase connoting a deep blue monochrome the exact definition of which has gone beyond recall.[336]

The K’ang Hsi mark is sometimes found on porcelain coated with a very dark purplish blue glaze with soft looking surface and minute crackle. It is apparently one of those glazes which are fired in the temperate parts of the kiln, and its use is more frequent on porcelains of a slightly later period.

Finally, the turquoise blue, variously named _fei ts’ui_ (kingfisher blue) and _k’ung ch’iao lü_ (peacock green), was freely used as a monochrome on figures and ornamental wares. It is a colour which descends from Ming times, and whose use has continued unchecked to the present day, so that it is often extremely difficult to give a precise date to any particular specimen, especially if the object happens to be of archaic form, a copy of an old bronze or the like. Its nature has already been discussed[337] among the Ming glazes, and one can only say that the K’ang Hsi pieces have all the virtues of the K’ang Hsi manufacture--fine material, good potting, shapely form, and beautiful quality of colour. The tint varies widely from the soft turquoise blue of kingfisher feathers to a deep turquoise green, and some of the most attractive specimens are mottled or spotted with patches of greenish black. The glaze is always minutely crackled, and has sufficient transparency to allow engraved or carved designs on the body to be visible. It is a colour which develops well on an earthen body, and the potters often mixed coarse clay with the ware which was intended to receive the turquoise glaze; but this, I think, was mainly practised after the K’ang Hsi period, and the K’ang Hsi specimens will, as a rule, be found to have a pure white porcelain basis.

As in the Ming wares, the turquoise sometimes shares the field with an aubergine purple of violet tone, both colours being of the _demi-grand feu_. The purple is also used as a monochrome. There are, in fact, two aubergine purple monochromes, the one a thick and relatively opaque colour sometimes full of minute points as though it had been blown on like the powder blue, the other a thin transparent (and often iridescent) glaze of browner tone. Both are derived from cobaltiferous ore of manganese, both have descended from the Ming period, and have already been discussed as monochromes and as colours applied to the biscuit.

[Illustration: PLATE 111

Two examples of Single-colour Porcelain in the Salting Collection (Victoria and Albert Museum)

Fig. 1.--Bottle-shaped Vase of Porcelain with landscape design lightly engraved in relief under a turquoise blue glaze. Early eighteenth century. Height 8½ inches.

Fig. 2.--Water Vessel for the Writing Table of the form known as _T’ai-po tsun_ after the poet Li T’ai-po. Porcelain with faintly engraved dragon medallions under a peach bloom glaze; the neck cut down and fitted with a metal collar. Mark in blue of the K’ang Hsi period (1662–1722) in six characters. Height 2¾ inches.]

The cobaltiferous ore of manganese is the same material which is used to give a blue colour, but in this case the manganese is removed, and the cobalt rendered as pure as possible. For the manganese if in excess produces a purplish brown, and its presence in however small a quantity gives the blue a purple or violet strain. By the simple method of graduating the amount of manganese which was allowed to remain with the cobalt the potters were able to obtain many intermediate shades between dark blue and purple for their monochrome glazes.

The green monochromes are scarcely less numerous than the blue. There are the transparent greens of apple or leaf green shades whether even or mottled, which have been described among the glazes applied to the biscuit and among the enamels of the _famille verte_. These were used as monochromes and ground colours; and closely akin to them are (1) the cucumber green (_kua p’i lü_), in which a yellowish leaf green is heavily mottled with darker tints, and (2) the snake skin green (_shê p’i lü_), a deep transparent green with iridescent surface, one of the colours for which the directorate of Ts’ang Ying-hsüan was celebrated. There are good examples of both in the Salting Collection, but it would be useless to reproduce them except in colour.

There are the apple and emerald green crackles (in both cases a green glaze overlying a grey or stone-coloured crackle), but these have already been discussed.[338] A somewhat similar technique characterises the series of semi-opaque and crackled green glazes of camelia leaf, myrtle, spinach, light and dark sage, dull emerald and several intermediate tints. These are soft-looking glazes with small but very regular crackle,[339] and their surface often has a “satiny” sheen which recalls the Yi-hsing glazes. They are evidently glazes of the _demi-grand feu_, and the colouring agent is doubtless copper, though apparently modified with other ingredients. How far this

## particular group was used in the K’ang Hsi period is hard to say. Most

of the specimens which I have seen give me the impression of a later make, but as there are a few which might come within the K’ang Hsi limits I have taken this opportunity to discuss them.

There is one specimen of a rare green in the British Museum to which I cannot recall a parallel. It is a bowl with the ordinary white glaze, but covered on the exterior with a very bright yellowish green, like the young grass with the sun shining on it. It is, perhaps, rather in the nature of an enamel than a glaze, but the ware has the appearance of age and should belong to the early part of the K’ang Hsi period.

Most of the green glazes are low fired, melting in the temperature of the _demi-grand feu_ and the muffle kiln. The high-fired greens are those of celadon class. There is the _lang yao_[340] green, which has been discussed under that heading, a crackled glaze, in colour intermediate between apple green and the sea green celadon, and with a surface texture hazy with bubbles like the _sang de bœuf_, to which it is a near relation. This soft and beautiful colour has been described as a “copper celadon,” and though Dr. Bushell refuses his blessing on the name it seems to me a particularly happy expression. For the colour apparently results from the same copper medium which under slightly different firing conditions produces the _sang de bœuf_ red and at the same time its tint approaches very nearly to the typical celadon green.

The true celadon glaze was freely employed on the early Ch’ing porcelains, especially on those of K’ang Hsi and Yung Chêng periods. It is a beautiful pale olive or sea green colour, made light by the pure white porcelain beneath which its transparent nature permits to shine through. Compared with the Sung celadons as we know them,[341] the Ch’ing dynasty ware is thinner in material and glaze, wanting in the peculiar solidity of appearance of the ancient wares; the body is whiter and finer, and the base is usually white with the ordinary porcelain glaze. There is, moreover, no “brown mouth and iron foot,” unless indeed this feature has been deliberately added by means of a dressing of ferruginous clay, a make-up which is too obvious to deceive the initiated. There were, however, some careful imitations of the ancient celadons made at this time and got up with the appearance of antiquity, but these were exceptional productions.[342]

Père d’Entrecolles, writing in 1722, alludes to the K’ang Hsi celadon in the following terms[343]:--“I was shown this year for the first time a kind of porcelain which is now in fashion; its colour verges on olive and they call it _long tsiven_. I saw some which was called _tsim ko_ (_ch’ing kuo_), the name of a fruit which closely resembles the olive.” The _long tsiven_ is clearly a transliteration of the characters which we write _Lung-ch’üan_, the generic name of the old celadons; but it is odd that Père d’Entrecolles should not have seen copies of this glaze before 1722, for its use must have been continuous at Ching-tê Chên from very early times, and we have found reference to it in various periods of the Ming dynasty. It is evident, however, that the colour was enjoying a fresh burst of popularity just at this time. D’Entrecolles gives a few further notes which concern its composition. His recipe is substantially the same as that given in Chinese works, viz. a mixture of ferruginous earth, which would contribute a percentage of iron oxide, with the ordinary glaze.[344] He also states that _sui yu_ (crackle glaze) was added if a crackled surface was required, and there are numerous examples of this kind of ware to be seen. The most familiar are the vases with crackled celadon or grey green glaze interrupted by bands of biscuit carved with formal patterns and stained to an iron colour with a dressing of ferruginous earth. Monster heads with rings (loose or otherwise) serve as twin handles on these vases, which are designed after bronze models. These crackled celadons are evidently fashioned after an old model, but they have been largely imitated in modern times, and almost every pawnbroker’s window displays a set of execrable copies (often further decorated in underglaze blue) which are invariably furnished with the Ch’êng Hua mark incised on a square brown panel under the base.

The yellow monochromes of the K’ang Hsi period are mostly descendants of the Ming yellows. There is the pale yellow applied over a white glaze reproducing the yellow of “husked chestnuts,” for which the Hung Chih (q.v.) porcelains were celebrated; and there is a fuller yellow, usually of browner shade, applied direct to the biscuit. Yellow is one of the Imperial colours, the usual tint being a full deep colour like the yolk of a hen’s egg, and the Imperial wares are commonly distinguished by five-clawed dragons engraved under the glaze. Other glazes[345] used on the services made for the Emperor are the purplish brown (aubergine) and the bright green of camelia leaf tint, which with the yellow make up the _san ts’ai_ or three colours. In fact the precise shades of these colours are those used on finer types of three-colour porcelain[346] with transparent glazes fired in the temperate part of the great kiln. All these glazes tend to become iridescent with age.

The colouring medium of the pale yellow is antimony combined with a proportion of lead, and iron oxide is added to give the glaze an orange or brown tinge.[347] It is noticeable that the yellow applied to the biscuit is usually browner in tone. This is the nature, if we may judge from the excellent coloured illustrations in the Walters catalogue,[348] of the eel yellow (_shan yü huang_), a brownish colour of clouded smoky appearance, and one of the few glazes named in the _T’ao lu_ as a speciality of the directorate of Ts’ang Ying-hsüan. The other yellow associated with the name of Ts’ang is the “spotted yellow” (_huang pan t’ien_), discussed on p. 127. Its identification is uncertain, and Brinkley describes it as “stoneware with a dark olive green glaze with yellow speckles,” while Bushell (_O. C. A._, p. 317) regards it as a “tiger skin” glaze with large patches of yellow and green enamel, the same as the _huang lü tien_ (yellow and green spotted), which he quotes from another context.

All these varieties belong to the _couleurs de demi-grand feu_; but there are besides several varieties of yellow enamels fired in the muffle kiln. Of these the transparent yellow was used as a ground colour in the K’ang Hsi period, but the opaque varieties, such as the lemon yellow, etc., belong rather to a later period. Among the latter I should include the crackled mustard yellow, though examples of it have often been assigned to the K’ang Hsi and even earlier reigns. There is, for instance, a bottle-shaped vase with two elephant handles in the Victoria and Albert Museum, which Bushell[349] regarded as a specimen of the old _mi-sê_ (“millet colour”) glaze of the Sung dynasty. A careful examination shows that this crackled brownish yellow is made in much the same fashion as the apple green and the sage green crackles, viz. a yellow glaze or enamel overlying a stone-coloured crackle. This is not a Sung technique, but rather an imitative method belonging perhaps to the Yung Chêng period, when old glazes and archaic shapes were reproduced with wonderful skill and truth.

There is a solitary specimen of a high-fired glaze of pale buff yellow colour in the British Museum, which perhaps should be ranked with the yellow monochromes, though its appearance suggests an exceptional effect of the pale _tzŭ chin_ or “Nanking yellow” glaze. And a rare vase in the Peters Collection has a minutely crackled brownish yellow glaze clouded with dark olive in bold markings like those of tortoiseshell.

Another Ming monochrome freely used in the K’ang Hsi period is the lustrous brown (_tzŭ chin_), formed like the celadon by mixing ferruginous earth called _tzŭ chin shih_ with the ordinary glaze. Presumably the quantity of this material was greater in the brown glaze than in the celadon. Père d’Entrecolles describes this glaze in its diverse shades of bronze, coffee and dead-leaf brown, but he makes the curious error of proclaiming it a new invention in 1722.[350] He also refers to its use on the exterior of white cups and as a ground colour in which white panels were reserved. “On a cup or vase,” he tells us, “which one wished to glaze with brown, a round or square of damped paper was applied in one or two places; after the glaze had been laid on, the paper was peeled off, and the unglazed space was painted in red or blue. This dry, the usual glaze was applied to the reserve by blowing or by some other method. Some of the potters fill the blank spaces with a ground of blue or black, with a view to adding gilt designs after the first firing.”

There were other methods of decorating these panels, and perhaps the most familiar is that in which the early _famille rose_ enamels were employed. This combination of brown ground with panels of floral designs in thick opaque rose red, yellow, white and green was a favourite with the Dutch exporters. In fact this ware is still called Batavian, the old catalogue name derived from the Dutch East Indian settlement of Batavia, which was an entrepot for far-Eastern merchandise. The date of the Batavian porcelain is clearly indicated by the transition enamels as late K’ang Hsi.

The _tzŭ chin_ brown was used as a monochrome in all its various shades from dark coffee colour to pale golden brown, and the lighter and more transparent shades were sometimes laid over engraved decoration. In the British Museum there are two candlesticks, the stems of which with dragon designs in full relief are in an intensely dark _tzŭ chin_ glaze, so dark, indeed, that the tops have been exactly matched in the deep brown ware made by Böttger of Dresden about 1710, the latter polished on the lathe to simulate the lustrous surface of the Chinese glaze. In the same collection are two saucer dishes of dark _tzŭ chin_ glaze of fine quality painted with slight floral designs in silver.[351] This kind of decoration must have been singularly effective in its original state, but the silver does not stand the test of time, and though it still firmly adheres its surface has turned black. An unusual effect is seen on a vase in the Peters collection which has a lustrous coffee brown glaze passing into olive and clouded with black; and a very rare specimen in the same collection has a “leopard skin” glaze of translucent olive brown with large mottling of opaque coffee brown. The latter piece bears the Wan Li mark.

The lightest shade of this colour is what has been described as Nanking yellow.[352] It is used as a monochrome or as a ground colour with panels usually of _famille verte_ enamels, and sometimes with enamelled decoration applied over the brown glaze itself. It is clear that the _sui yu_ or crackle glaze was sometimes mixed with the _tzŭ chin_, for we find many examples of beautiful lustrous brown crackle. They have, however, in many cases an adventitious tinge of grey or green, for which the crackle glaze is perhaps responsible.

A near relation to the _tzŭ chin_ (brown gold) glaze is the _wu chin_ (black gold), a lustrous black glaze obtained by mixing a little impure cobaltiferous ore of manganese (or coarse blue material[353]) with the _tzŭ chin_ glaze. Like the latter the black is an intensely hard glaze fired in the full heat of the great kiln, and it has a lustrous metallic surface which earned for it the name of “mirror black.”[354] This glaze seems to have really been a K’ang Hsi innovation,[355] and possibly it was a confusion with this fact which led d’Entrecolles into his erroneous statement about the date of the lustrous brown.

[Illustration: Plate 112.--Three figures of Birds, late K’ang Hsi Porcelain, with coloured enamels on the biscuit.

Fig. 1.--Stork. Height 17¼ inches. _British Museum._

Fig. 2.--Hawk. Height 10 inches. _S. E. Kennedy Collection._

Fig. 3.--Cock. Height 13½ inches. _British Museum._]

[Illustration: Plate 113.--Porcelain delicately painted in thin _famille verte_ enamels. About 1720.

Fig. 1.--Dish with figures of Hsi Wang Mu and attendant. Ch’êng Hua mark. Diameter 6¾ inches. _Hippisley Collection._

Fig. 2.--Bowl with the Eight Immortals. Diameter 8⅞ inches. _S. E. Kennedy Collection._]

[Illustration: Plate 114.--Hanging Vase with openwork sides, for perfumed flowers. _Cumberbatch Collection._

Porcelain painted in late _famille verte_ enamels. About 1720. Blackwood frame. Total height 17 inches.]

The mirror black is usually a monochrome tricked out with gilt traceries, but as in the case of the powder blue the light Chinese gilding is usually worn away, and often its quondam presence can now only be detected by a faint oily film which appears when the porcelain is held obliquely to the light. It is a common practice to have this lost gilding replaced by modern work.

There are several large vases of triple-gourd form in the Charlottenburg Palace with the upper and lower lobes coated with gilt mirror black, and the central bulb enamelled with _famille verte_ colours; and another use of the glaze as panel decoration in a lustrous brown ground has already been noted in an extract from Père d’Entrecolles; it is also found on rare specimens as a background for panels of _famille verte_ enamelling. But its most effective use is as a pure monochrome only relieved by faint gilding, and some of the choicest K’ang Hsi specimens have soft brown reflexions in the lustre of the surface. Another and probably a later type of mirror black is a thick lacquer-like glaze with signs of minute crackle.

There is a type of glaze which, though variegated with many tints, still belongs to the category of monochromes. This is the _flambé_, to use the suggestive French term which implies a surface shot with flame-like streaks of varying colour. This capricious colouring, the result of some chance action of the fire upon copper oxide in the glaze, had long been known to the Chinese potters. It appeared on the Chün Chou wares of the Sung and Yüan dynasties, and it must have occurred many times on the Ming copper monochromes; but up to the end of the K’ang Hsi period it seems to have been still more or less accidental on the Ching-tê Chên porcelain, if we can believe the circumstantial account written by Père d’Entrecolles in the year 1722[356]:--“I have been shown one of the porcelains which are called _yao pien_, or transmutation. This transmutation takes place in the kiln, and results from defective or excessive firing, or perhaps from other circumstances which are not easy to guess. This specimen which, according to the workman’s idea, is a failure and the child of pure chance, is none the less beautiful, and none the less valued. The potter had set out to make vases of _soufflé_ red. A hundred pieces were entirely spoilt, and the specimen in question came from the kiln with the appearance of a sort of agate. Were they but willing to take the risk and the expense of successive experiments, the potters would eventually discover the secret of making with certainty that which chance has produced in this solitary case. This is the way they learnt to make porcelain with the brilliant black glaze called _ou kim_ (_wu chin_); the caprice of the kiln determined this research, and the result was successful.”

It is interesting to read how this specimen of _flambé_ resulted from the misfiring of a copper red glaze, no doubt a _sang de bœuf_; for in the most common type of _flambé_ red (see Plate 123, Fig. 1) passages of rich _sang de bœuf_ emerge from the welter of mingled grey, blue and purple tints. The last part of d’Entrecolles’ note was prophetic, for in the succeeding reigns the potters were able to produce the _flambé_ glaze at will.

There are, besides, many other strangely coloured glazes which can only be explained as misfired monochromes of the _grand feu_, those of mulberry colour, slaty purple, and the like, most of which were probably intended for maroon or liver red, but were altered by some caprice of the fire. But it would be useless to enumerate these erratic tints, which are easily recognised by their divergence from the normal ceramic colours.

The French have always been partial to monochrome porcelains. In the eighteenth century they bought them eagerly to decorate their hotels and châteaux, and enshrined them in costly metal mounts. But as the style of the mounting, rococo in the early part of the century, neo-classical in the latter part, was designed to match the furniture of the period, the oriental shapes were often sacrificed to the European fashion. Dark blue and celadon green were favourite colours, if we may judge by surviving examples, and to-day enormous prices are paid for Chinese monochromes fitted with French ormolu mounts by the Court goldsmiths, such as Gouthière, Caffieri, and the rest.[357] But these richly mounted pieces have more interest as furniture and metal work, and the ceramophile regards them askance for their foreign and incongruous trappings, which disturb the pure enjoyment of the porcelain.[358]

It remains to consider the white porcelain, that is to say the porcelain which was intended to remain white and undecorated with any form of colouring. White was the colour used by the Court in times of mourning, and large services of white porcelain were made for the Emperor on these occasions. But it is not to be supposed that all the beautiful white wares were made solely for this purpose.[359] They have always been highly esteemed by the Chinese from the early Ming times, when the Yung Lo bowls and the white altar cups of Hsüan Tê were celebrated among porcelains, down to the present day. Many exquisite whites were made in the early reigns of the Ch’ing dynasty, and as with so many of the perennial monochromes their exact dating is full of difficulty. We are not concerned here with the _blanc de chine_ or white porcelain of Tê-hua in Fukien, which has already been discussed, but with the white of Ching-tê Chên, the glaze of which is distinguished from the former by its harder appearance, and its bluish or greenish tinge.

The latter was made to perfection in the K’ang Hsi period. Having no colours to distract the eye from surface blemishes, nothing short of absolute purity could satisfy the critic. In choice specimens the paste was fine, white and unctuous, the glaze clear, flawless, and of oily lustre,[360] the form was elegant and the potting true. Such pieces without blemish or flaw are the very flower of porcelain, whether they be of eggshell thinness (_t’o t’ai_), half eggshell (_pan t’o t’ai_), or of the substance of ordinary wares.

But though innocent of colour the white porcelain was rarely without decoration. The finest Imperial services were usually delicately etched under the glaze with scarcely visible dragon designs. Other kinds have the ornament strongly cut, such as the eggshell cups and saucers with patterns of hibiscus, lotus, or chrysanthemum petals firmly outlined, or the vases with full-bodied designs in low relief obtained by carving away the ground surrounding the pattern.[361] Others have faint traceries or thickly painted patterns in white slip, in steatite,[362] or in fibrous gypsum under the glaze. A fuller relief was obtained by pressing in deeply cut moulds or by applying strips and shavings of the body clay, and working them into designs with a wet brush after the manner of the modern _pâte sur pâte_. There are still higher reliefs in K’ang Hsi porcelain, figures, and symbolical ornaments, formed separately in moulds and “luted” on to the ware with liquid clay, but these generally appeared on the enamelled wares, and are themselves coloured. The applied reliefs on the white wares are usually in unglazed biscuit, and there are, besides, pierced and channelled patterns, but these processes have been fully described among the late Ming wares,[363] and nothing further need be said of them, except that they were employed with supreme skill and refinement by the K’ang Hsi potters. Père d’Entrecolles[364] alludes to these perforated wares in the following passage:--“They make here (i.e. at Ching-tê Chên) another kind of porcelain which I have never yet seen. It is all pierced _à jour_ like fretwork, and inside is a cup to hold the liquid. The cup and the fretwork are all in one piece.” Wares of various kinds with solid inner lining and pierced outer casing are not uncommon in Chinese porcelain and pottery. Sometimes, however, the cups are completed without the inner shell, like Fig. 2, of Plate 78, which could be fitted with a silver lining if required to hold liquid.

Objects entirely biscuit are exceptional. There are, however, two small Buddhistic figures, and two lions of this class in the British Museum, and curiously enough both are stamped with potter’s marks, which is itself a rare occurrence on porcelain. The former bear the name of Chang Ming-kao and the latter of Ch’ên Mu-chih (see vol. i., page 223). Bushell[365] tells us that the Chinese call biscuit porcelain _fan tz’ŭ_ (turned porcelain), a quaint conception which implies that the ware is turned inside out, as though the glaze were inside, and the body out; and this illusion is occasionally kept up by applying a touch of glaze inside the mouth of the unglazed vessel.

Biscuit porcelain is specially suitable for figure modelling, because the sharpness of the details remains unobscured by glaze. It has been largely employed in European porcelain factories for this purpose, but the Chinese seem to have been prejudiced against this exclusive use of the material. As a rule they reserve it for the fleshy parts of their figures, giving the draperies a coating of glaze or of enamel or both. A rare example of the use of biscuit is illustrated in the catalogue of the Walters Collection (_O. C. A._, Plate XXIX.), a white bottle with a dragon carved out of the glaze and left in biscuit.

The white wares so far described were made of the ordinary porcelain body and glaze, but there is another group of whites which is ranked with the so-called “soft pastes.” This is a creamy, opaque and often earthy-looking ware, the glaze of which is almost always crackled. It is in fact an imitation of the old Ting yao (q.v.), and its soft-looking surface and warm creamy tone are seen to perfection in small vases, snuff bottles, and ornamental wares. Indeed, the elegantly shaped and finely potted vessels of this soft, ivory crackle are among the gems of the period.

Crackle is a feature which is common to many of the monochromes, and incidental mention has frequently been made of it in the preceding pages. It is essentially a Chinese phenomenon, dating back to the Sung dynasty, and there are various accounts of the methods employed to produce it. We are speaking of the intentional crackle which is clearly defined and usually accentuated by some colouring matter rubbed into the cracks, as opposed to the accidental crazing which appears sooner or later on most of the glazes of the _demi grand feu_, and on many low-fired enamels. One crackling process used by the Sung potters has been described on p. 99, vol. i. Another method is mentioned in the K’ang Hsi Encyclopædia,[366] viz. to heat the unglazed ware as much as possible in the sun, then plunge it into pure water. By this means a crackle was produced on the ware after the firing.

But the normal process in the Ch’ing dynasty seems to have been to mix a certain ingredient with the glaze which produced a crackle when fired. There are constant references to this ingredient under the name of _sui yu_ (crackle glaze) in the letters of Père d’Entrecolles in connection with various monochromes, and in the first letter,[367] the following definite account appears:--“It is to be observed that when no other glaze but that composed of white pebbles[368] is added to the porcelain, the ware turns out to be of a special kind known as _tsoui ki_ (_sui ch’i_ = crackled ware). It is marbled all over and split up in every direction into a infinite number of veins. At a distance it might be taken for broken porcelain, all the fragments of which have remained in place. It is like mosaic work. The colour produced by this glaze is a slightly ashen white.”

The effect of this ingredient of the glaze whatever its composition may have been is easily understood. All porcelain and pottery undergoes a considerable amount of contraction--from loss of moisture, etc.--in the kiln, and to obtain a perfectly even glaze it is necessary that the contraction of the glaze should be the same as that of the body. Clearly this ingredient caused the glaze to contract to a greater extent than the body, and so to split up into minute fissures. The Chinese were able to control to a great extent the size and nature of the crackle, as is shown by the appearance of alternate bands of large and small crackle on the same piece. The methods of colouring the crackle include rubbing red ochre, ink, and decoction of tea leaves into the cracks before the ware was quite cool. Another method is described by Bushell (_O. C. A._, p. 511) by which a white crackled ware was stained pink or crimson. The vessel was held in the fire in an iron cage until thoroughly heated, and then water mixed with gold-pink colouring matter was blown on to it. This, however, is a later process. Most of the monochrome glazes are occasionally crackled, but the most characteristic colours of the crackle glazes are the greyish white (the _blanc un peu cendré_ of Père d’Entrecolles), and light buff, which were probably intended to recall the ash colour (_hui sê_) and the millet colour (_mi sê_) of the Sung _Ko yao_. Some of the light buff or “oatmeal” crackles of the early Ch’ing period are peculiarly refined and beautiful.

Though this has seemed a favourable opportunity for discussing crackle glazes it is not to be supposed that they were a speciality of the K’ang Hsi period. They are common to every age since the Sung dynasty, and probably they were never made in such abundance and with such care as in the Yung Chêng and early Ch’ien Lung periods.

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