Size: Height 14.5cm
Please Note. The coral is for display purposes only and does not come
with this item
Condition: A nice even glaze with good strong colouring, faint vertical hairline approx. 13cm, professional restoration to the rim.
Provenance: This piece can be cross checked with the
original Christie’s Amsterdam auction catalogue, sale date Tuesday 7th and
Wednesday 8th of April 1992.
Please Note. I do not have a Christie’s auction catalogue available
for purchase but I am happy to provide a print out of the relevant pages for
reference with your purchase.
As these pieces have spent hundreds of years submerged beneath the sea, an
overall dulling of the glaze is quite common and more prominent in some
examples.
The Vung Tau Cargo Chinese Export Porcelain
Christies Amsterdam Tuesday 7th April 1992 & Wednesday 8th
April 1992
Pyramids of porcelain: a veritable mountain of bright China ware. There was no
question that in the later 17th Century, Europeans were fascinated
by the newly abundant ceramic wares of China and Japan. For the first time in
history, these boldly painted blue and white, overglaze coloured, porcelain
vessels from the Far East were imported to Europe in sufficient quantities to
play a crucial role in the development of taste and interior decoration, in
many of Europe’s most cosmopolitan capitals. This auction of Chinese porcelain
at Christies Amsterdam will enable collectors, scholars and historians of taste
to recreate, in a manner and on a scale unequalled since the 17th
Century, the fashionable character and exotic variety of a ‘Palace of
Porcelain’.
Recovered under Government license from a trading ship wrecked off the southern
coast of Vietnam, the cargo of Chinese export porcelain casts new light on
Asian coastal trade, on Chinese porcelain production, and on the development of
European interior design in the last decades of the 17th Century.
The Shipwreck
In 1989, A Vietnamese fisherman, trawling the sea bed for the locally plentiful
supplies of shellfish, snagged his nets on an obstruction. He was a few miles
away from Con Dao Island, which lies approximately 100 nautical miles away south
of Vung Tau on the southern coast of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. The
island had a long history as one of the last fresh water refulling stops for
ships making the long journey from Northern Vietnam and the south east Chinese
coast, down the enormous eastern coastline of Vietnam, and across the Gulf of
Thailand to the North western islands of Indonesia. Thousands of ships have
moored in the natural harbour around the island, to take on water to be stored
in the large brown stoneware jars which are found at every trading centre and
in every wreck in Asia. But a few of the many ships that must have been lost
from monsoons, piracy or fire (cooking daily rice on an all wooden junk was a
perilous affair) have ever been discovered. The fisherman’s chance discovery
gradually came to public attention. Under the authority of the Vietnam
Government, the Vietnam Salvage Corporation, headed by Mr Le Minh Cong, its
General Director, a state owned company of the Ministry of Transport and
Communications, undertakes all salvage and sea bed investigations within the
territorial waters of Vietnam as a monopoly on behalf of the Government. It was
decided to raise the Cargo as a commercial operation, with the sale of a
proportion of the cargo helping to finance the installation of other parts of
it in appropriate Vietnamese museums. Seeking a joint venture partner to share
the costs of the recovery, the Corporation (VISAL) joined forced with a
Singapore based Swedish diving expert, Sverker Hallstrom, whose Company had extensive
experience of surveying and operating remote controlled diving vehicles at
unusually great depths. In fact, this was not essential for the Vung Tau Cargo;
it lay only at some 120 feet. But visibility was poor, the diving seasons were
interrupted by seasonal monsoons, and eventually it required three seasons of
diving to complete a systematic recovery of the cargo, recorded by site grid
drawings of the hull, and underwater film.
The ship was an Asian trading vessel with typical ‘compartment’ construction,
originally some 110 feet long and 33 feet wide. Examination of the timbers
showed clearly that the vessel had been burned to the waterline; a part of the
cargo had rolled off the damaged deck, and lay encrusted and broken around the
irregular remains on the sea bed. It was these encrusted pieces that the
fisherman had found first, the internal contents of the ship, carefully removed
and inventoried by two separate Government appointed supervisory bodies, proved
to be in much better condition, though with inevitable wear and tear compounded
by the effects of the salt water. There was little to date the wreck, except a
few coins of the reign of the Chinese Emperor Kangxi 1662-1722 and a small
rectangular Chinese inkstick, relief moulded with a cyclical date responding to
AD 1690. What was the rationale for the trading route of this nameless wreck?
The Trade
Judging by the location of the wreck, the ship was almost certainly bound for
Indonesia. The sea route south from Con Dao Island was one of the best
established in Asia, part of the enormous and intricate network of maritime
trade routes which had linked South Asia for millennia, bringing trade goods
from China at an early date as far West as the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf. At
this date, the Vung Tau Cargo was probably intended for the major trading
centre in Java, the city of Batavia (now Jakarta). Settled by the Dutch in
1619, it had prospered greatly while the British trading port at Bantam, 10
miles west up the coast, yielded influence to the excellent natural harbour.
‘Batavia Roads’ came to be the main revictualling and refurbishing point for
most early European merchant ships making the three month run to China and
Japan. It was the greatest Dutch colonial fortified city in Asia for centuries.
As the Asian administrative centre of the enormous Dutch East India Company
(VOC), it enjoyed great political and economical independence, and drew
substantial revenues from the sprawling local market outside the walls which
attracted buyers and sellers from all over South East Asia. There are strong
grounds for supposing that much of the present cargo would have ended up here,
ready to be bought by the Dutch VOC supercargoes (business managers) preparing
a mixed consignment for the homeward run to Amsterdam or elsewhere along the
Netherlandish seaboard. Unlike the Geldermalsen’s cargo, sold in these rooms at
1986, the ‘Nanking Cargo’, there are no personal artefacts recovered, no
shipping manifests, no judicial records to help identify the likely destinations
and the origin of the cargo. The best evidence lies in a study of the cargo
itself, for the Chinese porcelain that comprises it is a very remarkable
consignment indeed.
The Porcelain
The provincial coastal kilns of China, and the more sophisticated inland ones
at Jingdezhen in South Central China, had been producing ‘export market’
ceramics for well over a thousand years before our junk loaded its ill fated
consignment. Arab Dhows from the Near East, ocean going Chinese junks capable
of travelling to India, and ‘Country’ boats commuting under western license
from India to China had all helped transport Chinese porcelain across
remarkable distances. The arrival of western ships extended the range even
further. Spanish galleons from Manila took it to Acapulco, and even ultimately
back to Spain across the Atlantic; slow sailing Portuguese merchant ships from
Macao delivered it up the River Tegus to the Court in Lisbon; and latterly in
the 17th and 18th Century, aggressive merchants from
Holland, England, France, even Demark and Sweden shipped it to their respective
Company headquarters for local sale, normally at huge public actions dominated
by wholesale ‘Chinamen’. Dating as it does from very close to AD1690, the
porcelain is exceptionally interesting for two reasons.
Firstly, it was made within a decade of AD1683, the year ceramic historians
regard as the official date of the re opening of China’s major porcelain kilns,
at Jingdezhen. Civil war had disrupted industry since the 1630’s, as northern
Manchu invaders systematically drove the native Ming Dynasty court southwards
and into exile. The records show that Jingdezhen suffered badly from the
economic and political dislocation; while Fujian Province, where blanc de chine
was made, was a last centre of resistance to the victorious Manchus, and
suffered accordingly. Although the Manchus dated their new hegemony from AD1644,
the disruption caused both to ceramic production, and to the export trade, is
traditionally believed to have lasted several more decades. The Dutch only
officially resumed importation of Chinese ceramics in 1681; after a break of
some three decades during the Civil War period, when it was easier to buy and
import Japanese ceramics.
by 1690, the industry had recovered. The present cargo shows dramatically, and
in a way never before noted so clearly by ceramic historians, that western
demand apparently played a direct and influential role in this recovery. It was
not just in restimulating the industry, but even more so by supplying specific
models for Chinese potters to reproduce in porcelain. This is the really
remarkable characteristic of the export porcelain in the Vung Tau Cargo. The consignments
heading for Batavia were in many cases forms of objects which had no precedent
in China or Asian ceramics but were consciously copying Western metal or glass
shapes and designs, to cater presumably for the burgeoning long distance trade
to Europe based around the entrepot market at Batavia. The printed records of
the Dutch VOC gives some clues as to what happened. There are still records of
models made of wood, and in other materials, being sent to show Chinese and
Japanese artisans what vessels should look like.
Indeed, even in European porcelain rooms of the period, there are records that
such painted wooden vessels copying porcelain wares were entirely acceptable
substitutes when lost in an extensive baroque display; certainly, in Germany.
These ‘Design models’ would have been delivered from Holland, throughout
Batavia or Canton, to Chinese merchants controlling the complicated ceramics
trade with Jingdezhen. During the warm dry potting season, when the clay was
malleable, the models would have been delivered, moulds made, the commissions
prepared, and the peculiar, finished products finally return to the Asian port
of origin – perhaps a year later.
Among the vessels in the cargo showing clear western inspiration, the standing
pieces with multi knopped stems are perhaps most obviously influenced by the 17th
Century preference for ‘turned’ decoration; barley twist legs on furniture,
rows of horizontal flanges up the stems of glasses and candlesticks, tiered
finials on silver cups.
Goblets and covers, wine cups, flat topped tazze, small vases with elaborate
lower parts, deep cups with shallow covers; these are remarkable shapes,
irresistibly western inspiration. Very many of the small vases are potted with
spiral panels in shallow relief. This too, is most unusual in Chinese ceramics,
but can easily be found in European decoration, because by that time there was
no established Eastern tradition this somewhat disturbing design element, which
imparts movement and a certain apparent asymmetry to perfectly standard little
storage vases and beakers.
The painted deisigns too, reflect a blend of traditional Eastern patterns, and
some remarkable Western innovations. The cargo contains an exceptional range of
fairly simple floral patterns drawn with cross hatching filling in the main
fields, quite unlikely anything Chinese, but entirely Similar to western prints
with cross hatched backgrounds. A group of shallow covers and cups have an
extraordinary design; a seated western monarch and queen, clearly holding an
orb and sceptre, and known only from about ten examples where the pattern is
accompanied by a virtuous French proverb. And, above all, a series of large
vases, some baluster shaped with covers, some of flaring form – are uniquely
painted with panels of tall, gabled, tightly clustered non Chinese houses that
have an uncanny resemblance to Dutch canal houses of the period. Since the
design is combine with an entirely baroque cartouche of pendent swags of
flowers, it seems very likely that here too we see a very early appearance on
Chinese export porcelain of precisely copied Dutch prints.
Secondly, the academic interest of the porcelain itself is only one side of the
fascination this cargo holds for historians. Equally revealing is the other
side of the same coin; the effect this type of porcelain had, when it arrived
in Europe. This was not porcelain for everyday use; dinner services, soup
plates, cups and saucers, porcelain to be used in architectural assemblages;
standing vessels which could be built into room ornamentation or used to dress
an imposing piece of furniture.
reform, stock market, frenzies, maritime expansion, massively profitable new
industrial activity; all were burgeoning enterprises in cosmopolitan countries
recently released from crippling land and sea wares, and free to flex their
muscles economically, politically, socially and culturally. Into this late 17th
Century welter of cultural exploration, full of sudden fancies and fashions, of
tea drinking and tulipmania, came an opportunity to transform export of China
into the very pineapple of politeness. Like an exotic hothouse bloom introduced
to a somewhat stolid drawing room, the architectural use of imported Chines and
Japanese porcelain revolutionised taste and interior decoration in many of the greatest
European houses from Lisbon to St Petersburg it was, as the English writer
Daniel Defoe described it somewhat critically, the new English Queen Mary
II who ‘brought in the Custom of humour,
as I may call it, of furnishing houses with China ware which increased to a
strange degree afterwards, piling China upon the tops of cabinets, scrutores
(writing stands), and every chimney piece, to the tops of the ceilings, and
even setting up shelves for their China ware , where they wanted (lacked) such
places’.
Since the 16th Century, precious objects and even some porcelain had
been displayed, in symmetrical wall arrangements on individual small brackets.
This tradition was continued, but now it was the massed effect which mattered.
Those who disliked the novel fad, even those who enjoyed the contrasts it
created, called the phenomenon ‘China Mania’