"Pumpkin" Yixing zisha pot

I used to admire this teapot often in the teashop, without ever really thinking to buy it, until one day, the owner told me if I want it, the price was about to go up. Obviously, I'm a sucker for a sales pitch...

What I like about it is that it's a pumpkin design but still retains an overall simplicity. The lid reminds me of a persimmon and I like the Gong Chun style spout. The clay is a nice dark-orange with small chunks of stone. Though the walls are quite thin, it's a highly porous clay, making it good pot for puer. The grooves it the lid tend to pool water, leaving marks but that's not such a big deal. The quality of the Yixing clay is very high. The chunky clay is actually very difficult to fire without the pot exploding in the kiln. These aren't nearly the largest chunks I've seen, but they do add to the pot's value. They also make the pot a little more interesting as the patina develops, creating a nice contrast and unique beauty.

Korean-made Yixing "Xi Shi" teapot • 韓國 西施 宜興 茶壺

Looking for a break from the city, my family and I spent 2012, bookended by a few months of 2011 and 2013 on each side, in a small town just outside of Daegu in the south-eastern corner of Korea.

Adjacent to Daegu's famous traditional medicine street, is a street with a surprising number of tea shops. One in particular caught my attention because the owner was a potter who'd studied in China and claimed to be the only Korean potter who makes Yixing teapots. He makes them in China, then brings them back to his shop to sell. He has a large variety of designs and they were all very well crafted. Some even had Korean themed images or poems written in hangeul, rather than the traditional Chinese subject matter that may usually adorn pots.

I ended up choosing a small Xi Shi pot, mostly for its size but also because of my weakness for Xi Shi pots. I've always liked how they sit firmly and balanced but appear as though they could roll over with the slightest nudge. I like how the lid fits (usually) flush with the contour of the pot, creating a continuous line. Then one day, in Seoul, I learned that the design was meant to resemble the breast of Xi Shi, the first of the historical four most beautiful women of China. The funny thing was, the tea master at Kkik Da Geo had just placed a newly arrived Xi Shi pot in my hands as he told me the story. I couldn't resist blushing when he got to the part about it being her breast and there I was, delicately cupping it in my palm, admiring its shape. I also had to pause a moment and wonder if that had anything to do with my natural attraction to them. I didn't arrive at any definitive conclusion...

Back to this pot, I was very impressed with the Korean potters skill. The lid fits perfectly and the lip is so smooth the lid slides on it like glass. The pour is quick and clean. Xi Shi pots should have a feminine sensitivity to them and the spout, which could be seen as phallic, is often kept very short, though I have a few Xi Shi pots with regular spouts. The handle is bottom-heavy, as though it was attached up side down, but adds to its charm. The top bead is relatively large but not awkward. Then, finally, on the bottom is a very unique stamp, the only Korean one I've ever seen on an Yixing pot.

Gong Chun 龔春

Pottery in the Yixing area has been produced for thousands of years, but it wasn't until the early 16th Century that the birth of Yixing pots, as we know them today, took place.

A monk from Jinsha-si, the Golden Sand Temple, just outside of Yixing, who had studied with a local potter began producing fine quality teapots with the zisha clay. His name has been lost with the golden sands of time but a name that is still remembered well is Gong Chun, a young servant of a scholar who'd come to Jinsha Temple to study for the Imperial examination.

Gong Chun spent his free time with the monk, learning to make pots. With some zisha clay, he went out and modeled a teapot after the texture and form of a burl in an old Ginkgo tree growing on the temple grounds. Pressing his thumb into the bottom of the pot, marking it his own, he began a long tradition of Yixing masters.

Eventually, his master freed him to dedicate his life to potting. Tea was a popular commodity amongst the upper-classes and at the time of Gong Chun, tastes were shifting from extravagant to elegant simplicity. Also, the Emperor had recently declared that tribute tea must no longer be in bricks that were to be ground, but as loose leaves. Gong Chun's style fit perfectly into this new trend and his master quickly spread the word of Gong Chun and his pots, making his work highly sought after. Gong Chun and his master also recognized the superior quality of the porous zisha clay for brewing loose-leaf tea.

He was a great innovator of Yixing pottery, creating his own tools. He also designed as several unique styles of pots, many derived from nature, including the "Dragon Egg", "Square Seal", and the "Burl" teapot, now better known as the "Gong Chun" teapot. There is only one remaining pot in the world that is quite certain to be his, on display at the National Museum of China. Unfortunately, the lid was "lost" during the war, but a convincing replica was make to replace it. Since shortly after his time there has been a constant line of potters imitating his work, keeping his creations and his spirit alive.

the "Gong Chun" teapot

Chen Tu Gen's Zisha Peach-Branch Teapot

In previous posts, I referred to the artist as Jin To Geun. I've since learned that is the Korean pronunciation of his name. Chen Tu Gen is more accurate to his Chinese name.

Sometimes desire creeps in slowly. I see a teapot, it's looks nice, I leave then the thought of the pot circles my thoughts until I "must" have it. This pot was different. From the moment it was shown to me, I wanted it, more than I'd ever wanted any other teapot.

Though I'd been on the looking out for a "stump" teapot (this one is more of a "branch") it was really the heart-shaped spout that I found the most appealing, but the peach is also one of the "Ten Symbols of Longevity" (12th on the list, don't ask...). It's a popular motif on many temple murals; A Daoist immortal accompanied by a couple of his little attendants, one of whom is lugging a giant peach for the master.

The pot is authentic Yixing zisha. The walls are so thin that when I pinched them to check the thickness, I was almost afraid that my finger would punch through, like on the paper windows on traditional latticed doors. Of course, I knew that it wouldn't, but it's just a testament to how amazingly thin the pot is. Unfortunately, the peach-branch design also means that the pot's thickness is not fully even, which affects the distribution of heat, in turn affecting the tea, but it's a minimal drawback, far outweighed by its beauty.

The wide spout allows for a very quick, clean pour, just a few seconds, which can make a good difference when using a larger pot. The lid fits perfectly in place and has a nice groove to keep the design in line. It fits so well that I've actually had a difficult time removing it after rinsing from the tight seal that forms. For some reason, after rising it hasn't been a problem. As I become more familiar with it, perhaps I'll figure something out.

The color of the clay is light purplish-brown. The specks of larger grain give it a slightly pink tone. At first, I commented that I preferred the even color of the other pots he made but Mr Ahn's description of the clay was that, "It's like the Milky Way in the night sky." After hearing it put that eloquently, I was willing to change my mind's eye... and admit that I have a lot to learn before I can call myself a tea master!

This zisha one was a promotional model, but there are several smaller (approx. 100-120ml) ones made from authentic zhuni available at >Kkik Da Geo<. The zhuni pots are exceptionally good for puer. Anyway, I'll let the photos do the rest of the talking. Any questions, I will gladly answer in the comments.

 

陳兎根 • Chen Tu Gen

Last year, Chen Tu Gen, a Chinese man from Yixing, came into Kkik Da Geo with a collection of hand-made pots, hoping to do business in Korea. He said that all the shops he'd visited weren't interested (they most likely didn't trust him) and Kkik Da Geo was the last place he was trying before going back to China.

When he unveiled his pots, their jaws dropped at what they beheld; a perfect blend of technique, artistry, and precious, rare clay. A combination rarely seen these days. As far as teashops in Seoul go, few owners have Mr Ahn's eye for clay and he immediately recognized that the pots were authentic zisha and zhuni clays. Needless to say, they immediately agreed to sell his pots, considering their meeting him to be "in-yeon", a sort of karmic-affintity. 

Not long after, I visited their website and my own eyes nearly popped out when I saw the new collection of pots they had. The one that amazed me the most was a peach-branch pot with a heart-shaped spout. I'd never seen anything like it. Unfortunately, by the time I made it into Seoul, it had been sold, but I was pleased to set aside an elegantly crafted zhuni guava pot. The stone used to make zhuni clay has been extinct since the early 1970's, but his supply of clay has been in his family for 200 years and he inherited it from his grandfather.

As fate would have it, just a few days after I bought the guava pot, I dropped by the shop just as a parcel arrived from Chen Tu Gen. Mr Ahn carefully unwrapped a zisha pear-branch pot for me to admire and said it was mine if I wanted it. At first I said no, but called them the next day to change my mind. They let me pay it off as I could and after four long months of admiring it through the glass display case, I was able to bring it home to join the rest of my indulgences. 

What amazed me the most about these pots, aside from their perfect form, is how fast they sold. In even a week between visits I'd notice more than a dozen would be gone. There were several of them that were accented with gold leaf for more than twice the price of a regular one and within two weeks they were all gone. 

Not that I plan on selling them anytime soon, but if there's one justification to owning these pots, beyond desire/greed, they are actually good investments, as their value is guaranteed to grow. Really, though, they just make drinking tea that much more enjoyable.

Here are a couple of photos I took at Kkik Da Geo with my phone (not the greatest quality). I will do a proper, in-depth review of each one when time permits.

> Chen Tu Gen's Ba Le (Guava) pot <

Pear Shaped Zhuni • 梨形茶壶

Over the years, I've developed a fondness for fruit-shaped Yixing teapots. Pear-shaped ones, especially, seem to catch my eye, with with their elegantly curved spouts and smooth contours.

There are a few at the teashop that I can't help but stare at every time I go in (which is often...) but they are all antique and the one my eye likes the best is $2000. I asked if there were any that were more affordable but was told not many artists still make the curved spouts anymore, so they're usually antique.

Eventually, I found one that didn't quite match the perfectly crafted antique ones but was still very nice for less than a tenth the price. The rough texture of the surface made me think it could be zhuni, and I was right. The odd thing about the pot is that it has no stamp but a poem carved into the bottom, "Creek under the moonlight," with the name of an old master who lived three-hundred years ago. The thing is, the pot is less than ten years old. So, it's sort of like having an eight year-old Stradivarius. But if it's even remotely comparable to a Stradivarius, then I'm not really concerned who made it!

It's 100ml, perfect for two gongfu cups, or one large cup, if I'm alone. The walls are slightly thick, making it nice for dark oolong. It's great for puer, too, but the opening is so narrow the tea has to be broken up quite small. The lid fits very nicely, allowing a very clean pour and the edges of the rim and lid are smooth and sharp. The top bead is perfectly shaped with nice proportion to the pot, he lower portion of the lid, that slides into the pot, is angled slightly inward, showing the artist's care for detail.

Shui Pin & Biao Zhun teapots • 水平 ＆ 標準壺

The most important concept in the art of making teapots is 'Shui Pin', 水平. The original meaning is 'water level', as in the tool, but in teapot terms, it is the three point line connecting the tip of the spout, the rim of the teapot's opening, and the vertex of the handle. In terms of function, a pot with good Shui Pin is well balanced when held and pours comfortably. Because of shrinkage of the clay during firing, you can judge a potter's expertise by their ability to produce a nice Shui Pin.

For the first Yixing teapot I ever bought, the tea master at Kkikdageo chose a simple, standard looking pot, which he said was as a good teapot for a beginner. It turns out its Chinese name, 'Biao Zhun' 標準, translates directly as 'standard'. It's an old Early Republic of China Shui Pin design that the Yixing No 1 Factory literally standardized and produced in mass quantity during the 1960's. The highly functional design of the Biao Zhun Shui Pin pots has kept them the standard design. Though different specialized teapots have been designed for different teas, a Biao Zhun Shui Pin is suitable for any tea.

A quick way to check a pot's Shui Pin line is to remove the lid and set it upside down on a flat surface. If the spout, rim, and handle are all touching the surface, then you have a well crafted teapot. Another test is to set the lid so that it is balanced either between the rim and the spout or the rim and the handle. This can be useful when allowing the steam to escape, not to cook the tea, or when leaving the teapot open for drying. To demonstrate this, I've superimposed two photos, with the lid balance on each side.