- What’s On
Julian Thompson reviews ‘Blue and White: Chinese Porcelain Around the World’ by John Carswell
John Carswell’s Blue and White is a very different book from any written hitherto on this popular subject. His treatment is eclectic and all the better for it. There is much new material of importance to scholars and Carswell’s approach relies on his own strengths: the eye of an artist applied to the analysis of designs, their development and adaptation; personal experience of the sites which provide the sherd material from which trade routes can be tracked, and of handling the surviving material; and knowledge of the world’s trade routes from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries and the contemporary history of the Islamic world.
Carswell’s subject is limited to the production, development and influence of Chinese blue and white made for use outside China in the Yuan and Ming dynasties. Only passing mention is made of the later export trade in the Qing dynasty. Blue and white made for imperial use is specifically excluded, though essential evidence from the Zhushan kiln-site at Jingdezhen is cited in the discussion of Islamic shapes. There is, however, a useful chapter on copper-red decorated porcelain and on the celadon wares exported in far greater quantities than blue and white in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.
The early chapters comprehensively cover the two most creative periods in the production of early blue and white: towards the end of the Yuan dynasty in the mid-fourteenth century, and the Ming dynasty reigns of the Yongle and Xuande emperors in the early fifteenth century. The most intriguing new Yuan material is included here a group of blue and white sherds recently recovered from the bed of the Red Sea, the first certain evidence of the maritime transport of highest-quality blue and white at this period. It is hoped further porcelain can eventually be retrieved from this site. These sherds are described and illustrated in detail in a section on porcelain recovered from shipwrecks, and their patterns compared to those on pieces in the Topkap? Palace and from the Ardebil Shrine, now in Tehran. The book would be an obvious addition to a Chinese art library for this section alone.
The Sinan wreck off the southwest coast of Korea, containing an extraordinary group of fine celadons intended for the Japanese market datable to 1423, is well known. Less familiar is a wreck of similar date, also containing celadons, near Trincomalee, Sri Lanka. Carswell describes two tantalising fragments which appear to be contemporary blue and white. Unfortunately the political situation makes further investigation of the site unlikely for the present, but it is just this kind of information which keeps the subject alive.
Carswell is particularly persuasive on the influence of Chinese designs on local manufacture of ceramics in a number of centres in the Middle East. Examples of Syrian blue and white are illustrated, as well as Timurid copies of early fifteenth-century Chinese designs from Samarkand. Perhaps most striking are the Turkish Iznik examples, such as a polychrome dish decorated with a chained leopard, convincingly traced to the design of a fabulous animal on a dish now in the Musée Adrien Dubouché in Limoges. The influence is not one-way. Islamic shapes were adopted in China, and though examples are to be found in Topkapı and Ardebil, larger numbers are in the imperial collections in Beijing and Taipei. These alien forms were embraced by the Chinese court, alongside decorative motifs that were passed in both directions. Sixteenth-century trade with China became dominated by the Portuguese, followed by the Spanish, who opened the sea route across the Pacific from Manila to Acapulco. Carswell devotes a chapter to this first involvement of Europeans in trade with China, discussing Western reaction to this extraordinary new material so much more attractive and durable than any ceramics then known and to the subsequent formation of collections of blue and white by the rich and powerful.
The book is well produced, with lavish illustrations. The editors have, however, allowed the Yellow River to flow westwards towards the Pacific on page 71, and have chosen a miserably restored and rather dull Yuan blue and white ewer as the frontispiece, as well as a downbeat Yuan dish to fill up the half-title page.
The book’s title, too, is open to criticism, following a trend among publishers for titles claiming greater scope than the text delivers, particularly irritating for internet buyers, who purchase without the chance to browse first. None the less, this refreshingly individual and entertaining book is highly recommended to any student of ceramics, Chinese or Middle Eastern, or of the history of world trade.
For more than thirty years Terence Mitford and George Bean painstakingly identified and recorded the forgotten ancient sites of Turkey’s Aegean and southern shores. Their contribution to the preservation of the country’s archaeological heritage is incalculable, their guidebooks are legendary, yet the men themselves are unsung. Barnaby Rogerson, in this homage to his heroes, uncovers an extraordinary pair: a gentle giant and a man of steel
The dusty rooms of a crumbling Istanbul palazzo are a living museum of the plaster-caster’s art. Berrin Torolsan visits the heir to a fine tradition. Photographs by Fritz von der Schuelnburg
A new book on Vassilaki Kargopoulo: Photographer to His Majesty the Sultan. By Philip Mansel
William Morris and Mariano Fortuny familiarlised the West with the sumptuous floral designs of Ottoman textiles. But few are aware of the the bolder side of Turkish design
The intoxicating scent of attar of roses, the oil distilled from the petals of damask roses, has worked its magic on men and women for centuries. Martyn Rix traces the history of the damask rose from its roots in Neolithic times and travels to Isparta in southwest Anatolia to see how these precious petals yield up a liquid worth its weight in gold
Few travellers to Turkey enjoying the hedonistic delights of Mediterranean cruising venture east of Antalya, capital of Anatolia’s Turquoise Coast – intimidated perhaps by rumours of a wild hinterland that even Alexander the Great found hard to tame. But those who dare to leave the crowds behind will discover an awe-inspiring landscape of cliffs that drop sheer to the sea, epic castles and remote Byzantine retreats. Kate Clow and Jacqueline de Gier joined ten other guests and a lecturer for a twelve-day voyage of enlightenment aboard a traditional gulet
Geoffrey Lewis, acknowledged as the dean of Turkish studies in Britain and beyond, learned the language while serving in the RAF in Egypt. When he finally visited Turkey, he was smitten for good. By Andrew Mango. Portrait by Charles Hopkinson