Qing Shi (Chime Stone) Teapot • 磬石 茶壺

Qing Shi (Chime Stone) Teapot • 磬石 茶壺
Qìng shí cháhú

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to haul out a seldom used stone pot for a post. It was one of the first Chinese pots I'd bought but it sat unused in the pack row of pots since just a few weeks after I'd bought it. Partially because I seldom drink puer at home compared to other teas and mostly because I've gone overboard in my Yixing collecting and this pot got left in the dust of the fancy zisha clays.

I grabbed it for a change of pace but I'm glad I did because it prompted a fellow tea blogger to request this post. And I'm glad he did because it got me to discover a little more about the pot.

I knew that the density and heat retaining property of the stone made it great for puer. Though I've never seen them use a stope pot at the tea shop, they praised how well it brews puer when I first bought it and again the other night when I asked about it again.

My main question was what kind of stone it is. I was guessing black soapstone or some sort of granite but we had a really difficult time finding a translation of the Korean word for it, 경석 (gyeong-seok). Finally, I was able to find the Chinese characters, 磬石, just as the battery on my phone died. They told me it was a stone used for traditional music but that was as far as we got. At home, I was able to look up 磬石 on my computer and found "qing shi", or "chime stone" in English. It was used to make the chimes of an ancient instrument called the bian qing 編磬, a type of hanging lithophone.

I like the idea of a teapot with a musical connection! It brings together another aspect of life's joy to tea time...

The pot itself I think is a Xishi style, but it also has a bit of an Aladdin's Lamp feel to it with it's pointy spout. It was made in 1990 and holds 120ml (without tea) which makes it perfect for two regular sized Chinese gongfu cups. The workmanship is a little rough, with several tool marks around it. I can appreciate the amount of work that went into it, though, especially with it's polished surface. The inside of the lid was chipped a little when I bought, but it fits snuggly and doesn't drip at all. There's no stamp on the bottom but, hey, can't expect too much! The pot is a bit heavy for its size, but well-balanced and comfortable to pour.

I'd grabbed this for about $35 (35,000 won) back in 2007 but the couple they have left are marked for $100 now. They also have a smaller hexagonal one with a dull finish that's very nice.

"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.

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.

                

Yixing Zisha teapots • 宜興紫砂壺

»a basic intro to Yixing Zisha teapots«

When it comes to brewing gong fu cha, an authentic Yixing Zisha teapot is usually preferred. Yixing is a district in eastern China and zisha, "purple clay", is the clay mined in the area.

The reason these teapots are exclusively desired is the supreme quality of Yixing zisha clay for infusing tea leaves. The porous quality of the clay retains heat and also absorbs the tea's essential oils, eventually curing it until the pot itself takes on the fragrance of the teas brewed in it. For this reason, a true gong fu cha master will only use one particular type or family of tea in one pot, as the build up of oils will enhance the same or similar tea but may not harmonize with other teas. One should also never use soaps or detergents to wash a pot, as they would remove the precious oils from the pores. It also explains why tea enthusiasts may develop an obsession with collecting teapots, in search of the perfect pot for each type of tea.

An Yixing teapot's form is typically elegant and very simple. The beauty of an Yixing pot is in the smooth lines of its contour and balanced form. For brewing gong fu cha, simplicity is essential as a uniform pot will distribute heat evenly while steeping, ensuring a proper infusion.

Yixing teapots are small, by western standards, usually between 3-7 ounces (90-200 ml), or even a single ounce, and vary in thickness and firing temperature. Generally, a thick walled, low-fired pot (about 1100ºC), will retain heat longer, making it suitable for teas requiring boiling water, such as a fully fermented puerh tea. The low firing also leaves them more porous, allowing them to absorb more of the tea's oils, helping to soften the taste of stronger tea. A thin walled, high-fired pot (about 1200ºC), is less porous, and absorbing less of the tea's oils, is suitable for fragrant, delicate tasting teas, such as Tie Guan Yin or high-mountain oolong.