How to judge people by tea ware and why you really shouldn’t.
Pots and cups, and all sorts of little trinkets, which by most standards look miniscule – are the reality on the streets of Xiamen, Fujian. Some of it can be very pretty, and some of it not so, but in most cases more important is knowing – how much usage does this drinker exhort on his or her tea ware? It gives you an idea of what kind of drinkers they are in the tea realm.
When I first arrived in Xiamen 2010 a great many things disgusted me. Utterly repulsed by an uncountable list of stuff was mainly the norm of the day than an exception. Without going into these sources of convulsion any further, one of them was the peculiar element of what, I at the time felt, was dirty tea ware. Now, I stand corrected.
Don’t get me wrong – dirty tea ware still exists. And it is still to this day disgusting. Nothing has changed in that sense. But alongside plain old dirty, there also exists the very unusual, one could say, art form of letting tea stain your teacup or pot or any tea related item until the patina brought on by the oil in tea makes the object more valuable. Getting the desired result depends on the glaze of the objects, or lack of it, which allows the tea oil to be absorbed creating different kinds of effects. If the glaze is not porous enough, no matter how long you use your tea ware, there will be no alteration. If the glaze is of the porous-type, through constant contact with tea, these objects start to acquire a soulful presence that was not there before. The most priced objects probably being the red-brownish Yixing clay pots that can be cultivated by tea to the point that they shine marvellously, and have taken in the smell, and the taste of the chosen tea. The idea is to use one pot for one type of tea.
As the chosen tea keeps infusing into the pot or cup, you will have something very precious in your possession. To what extent? The claim/legend is, in the end you would just need to pour hot water in the pot and out comes a perfect brew. As I reserve an element of doubt for it to quite reach that point, I can testify to it to a degree – I have a selection of pots smelling wonderfully of their designated teas. And my cups are beautifully seasoned by the tea having seeped deep into them causing a rather marble-like effect. In tea talk “你的茶具养的很美“, your tea ware has been cultivated very beautifully. Not to mention my teeth having turned a few degrees more yellow thanks to all the tea one is honoured to consume. So, shine and a certain type of soulful staining is desirable, being just dirty is not.
In his delightful book for anybody who wants to get more serious in their drinking, Bret Hinsch, in The ultimate Guide to Chinese Tea (2008), also touches on the subject of how to care for one’s tea ware. His maxim is to only use hot water to wash your tea ware. Soap should never be used, especially on Yixing pots: “Soap will also instantly ruin the subtle patina of a carefully seasoned Yixing pot. Destroying a carefully nurtured patina with soap would be a monstrous travesty, and ruining someone’s teapot this way would test even the strongest friendships.” A chance definitely not worth taking. And as far as the locals go, I can testify the same: hot water is only ever used with clay and porcelain. Sometimes a magic sponge is used with glassware to keep it sparkling clean.
B. Hinsch continues in the same book, still referring to Yixing pots, “Although seasoning occurs naturally over time, you can speed up the process. As you drink, occasionally pour a bit of tea on top of the pot. You can also use a clean soft Chinese calligraphy brush or paintbrush to sweep tea over the pot’s surface repeatedly. After each stroke, the clay will quickly absorb the liquid. Getting more tea into the pot’s walls this way speeds up seasoning.” Ah yes, most certainly does. But as it turns out, not everybody whom would want to have a gloriously shining pot, have the time or patience to be fondling the pot with soft brushes. So… there are other avenues available.
The catch is – local people being so practical – you can actually buy a new pot of quite significant value, take it to a teashop and have them cultivate it for you. Or a cup. Or like many shops do, they rotate the pots in use until they are all quite well “tea-touched” and then sell them for quite a profit. Some shop keepers like to tell horror stories of having had their clients’ pots for cultivating and then one of the cleaning ladies taking it upon themselves to scrub it clean rendering it valueless. One can only deduct, I am not the only one to have mistaken tea stains for plain old dirty.
Obviously, not all pots are new. Hence, the option of stumbling upon a beautifully seasoned pot at an antique fair of course exist. But this being China, the promised land of fake milk and fake honey, a word of warning is probably not misplaced. The above-mentioned author puts it very well: “You should be cautious, however, as unscrupulous antique dealers know how to give an Yixing pot an artificial patina by boiling it in water mixed with a bit of processed tea oil.”
Yet, having said that, the elderly shopkeepers who pride themselves in tea drinking and selling pots, can’t seem to be bothered with fakery. I asked one of these Old Yixing-pot-hands about the artificially patinated pots. He said it happens, but you can tell the difference. When pressed on how, he simply said: “it is hard to put your finger on it – there simply is no soul in them (pots). Anyway, why would you buy an old one? It doesn’t have your stories in it. Buy a new one, and make your own history with it.” I suppose he is right: you will handle a pot or cup very differently if you have cherished it for years, let alone decades. And a good cup or pot, with a nice hand feel to it, truly becomes more like a trustworthy friend – the question of buying and selling seems to be outside of that realm of what is at hand.
Whatever the case, it makes good dinner conversation to discuss one’s valuable pots. And it adds to the general prestige of the household to have precious items like that lying about. Not only are they expensive, but also being brought to life by the apparent use. But since there really is no way of cheating when it comes to properly/soulfully “staining” the cups or making the pots shine, but to use them -what is one to do? Either one uses them, or hires someone else to do it for you. And in a country where labour is cheap and favours can be called on even this way… take it with a pinch of salt that your host has cultivated their pot themselves.