Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Celadon as palimpsest






In the chilly Autumn,
thousands of porcelain pieces
as green as the mountains
appear from the kiln.
                    Lu Guimeng

Strictly speaking celadon is not a good green. It has none of the vivid energy of leaf buds, nor the sombre notes of eucalyptus. It is neither verdantly mossy or bravely bottle green. It sits somewhere between jade and lichen  - on the colour spectrum it leans towards grey and away from yellow. Rather than lifting the heart it speaks to it - a colour for poets and those of an exquisite eye. Made from earth and ash, celadon has an earthy appeal. The green glaze is composed of iron and cinders. An incremental increase in iron results in deeper greens. One can imagine the Chinese feeling for porcelain as a magic composed of the elements - of fire, water, earth and iron.

That colour is arbitrary or inexact is a notion we rail against. We do our best to describe it as chemistry in terms of mineral pigments - in physics as wavelength and frequency. But surely my green is not your green. Greenness is in the eye of the beholder. Derwent pencils - the last word in colour in my childhood originally produced 10 greens. In 1939 the full spectrum of Derwent colours was 72 - in the 1990's that increased to 120. When on my twelfth birthday I was given a set of 24 I felt life could not possibly be richer. Today there are 14 shades of Derwent green including teal, fern, felt, apple, iron and Ionian. There is no celadon. Perhaps the fact that celadon can be anything from a smoky jade to a oyster shell makes it a poor descriptor.

In the Romance and Icelandic languages the word for green derives from the root word for growth. In many cultures green is synonymous with hope, freshness, Spring, youth, perennial return and in times of ecological fragility with environmental safety and protection. But green can also stand in for callow inexperience, for jealousy, sourness and decay. If the green of the celadon ware had resonance for Chinese poets and princes it spoke to Buddhist teachings too. Pottery is the perfect palimpsest. It has meaning laid over meaning. It is used and wiped clean like a slate. It is at once fragile and concrete. It is a vessel and so are we.

Long before the Japanese fascination for wabi sabi, the Chinese celebrated flaws. Fabled celadons were often crazed - the glaze and porcelain operating differently under fire. Even after being taken from the kiln the finish can move and the cracks travel. This process is said to explain the life of the pot - a resident energy - an exquisite tension expressed in the clay's journey from plastic to some sort of stone. The imperfect finish somehow suggested, hinted at the sublime. How much more perfect can an object be than one where the beauty is somewhat diminished? One must instead hold the idea of perfection in the mind.

The oldest celadons are also the least perfect - their crackle like cobwebs, their porcelain heavier than other pots. Originally this might have been because of limited production compared to other wares. Practice makes perfect. Or it might be direct reflection of its material makeup. But perhaps celadons were also less than perfect in order to pique the jaded eye of the elite.

For a long while celadon was secret. Green was valuable. Like the royal purples of popes, the Middle Kingdom's monied classes kept green porcelains for themselves. The Chinese for secret also means withheld - unspoken, reserved as in shy or reserved for, as in reserved for royalty. The ambiguity is aptly appropriate. Celadon's scarcity enhanced its appeal.


9 comments:

  1. I think it's interesting that our word for celadon is said to come from a popular French play written in the 1600s. One of the character's was named Celadon and his clothes were the same color green as the ceramics that had made their debut in France around the same time. You're right about greenness being personal. I do think of certain shades that others might not. When I went with my family to the amazing jade exhibit at SAMA in San Antonio last year to see the national treasures of Taiwan that were part of the exhibit, I only knew the color jade as the jadeite green jade objects on display. I had no idea that jade can be the color of what I imagine celadon to be, or celery, light grayish chartreuse, dirty cream, or even light tan. Lends an air of mystery and seduction to it, doesn't it?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Seems fitting that we have inherited a French word for these pots doesn't it. I can imagine that the French would have appreciated it in all its subtlety and variety.
      Lucky you to see all those jades! You describe it so well. Is there a white jade too or have I just imagined that?

      Delete
    2. I think you're right about the French appreciating all the nuances of celadon, since France has been an important center of art and culture in the world. I didn't know it before today, but there is white jade also. Apparently, jade is a generic term referring to two different gems, nephrite and jadeite. Depending on the mineral content, the colors of nephrite can be green, white, black, brown, pink, red, orange, or violet, almost the whole rainbow!

      Delete
  2. This poetic meditation on color and emotion as molded into, and emitting from, this subtle pottery was one to savor!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jenn I imagine that those pale celadons play into your French colour palette well.

      Delete
  3. Hi Blorgie, gotta love someone who loves dogs as much as you do! Thanks for the kind words on my blogs, I enjoyed reading yours, lovely pictures.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hello Ori-game - dogs are some of the best people! And I love your blogs. Both of them! And you are in Australia!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thank you for your kind comment on my etegami blog. You'll need to send me your email address to get the newsletter (see original post for details).

    There was a time in my late teens and early twenties when I thought I would become a professional potter. I became a professional translator instead, and translated for many an art exhibit. One of my treasures is a delicate celadon vase that a Korean potter gave me in appreciation for my work. I had it wrapped up and stored away where it is probably weeping for lack of attention, but now that you've reminded me, I will bring it out and use it daily. :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. Your etegami site is a joy dosankodebbie! I'm sure you would have been a superb potter. Imagine pots decorated with your paintings! Glad you will bring out the celadon - perhaps it will appear in one of your etegami.

    ReplyDelete