Mulan’s phoenix is actually the Vermillion Bird

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While the biggest event in Fashion x History has just concluded, judging from the turnout at the Met Gala, one can conclude that dressing to the theme isn’t quite a forte of A-listers. In the name of greater good, this series will demonstrate how one can be fashionably historically-inspired, while still adhering to certain themes.

AUSPICIOUS BIRDS AND US

Birds have had a long history of being seen as auspicious creatures and totems in Chinese culture. The Sun, for example, was represented by a three-legged bird. And of course, we are all very familiar with the phoenix, which at some point became synonymous with the bird in question I’m discussing today.

It has been known by many names in the Eastern part of the world, Zhu Que by the Chinese, Suzaku by the Japanese, Jujak by the Korean and Chu Tước by the Vietnamese. It symbolised the southern constellations of the night sky, and the element Fire.

Because of its association with fire, the vermillion bird is often thought to be the phoenixes by the West. And yes, plural because the Chinese Phoenixes fenghuang had gender (Feng was the male, and Huang was the female, and they combined into a singular identity somewhere down the road later on), while the Vermillion Bird did not.

The phoenix was believed to have the colours of the rainbow while the Vermillion Bird took its colour from the fire. Was that a phoenix or a vermillion bird that we spotted in Mulan? hmmm…..

Mulan (2020) live action movie featured a ‘phoenix’ which actually looks more like the Vermillion Bird of the South. Disney probably got confused between the Chinese and the Western phoenix.

Although some sources said that the ancient Chinese thought the stars in the southern night sky resembled the vermillion bird, thus the assignment of this symbol, it is unlikely so as the Vermillion Bird of the South as well as the Black Warrior of the North did not come into existence in the constellation assignment until much later (about 2,000 years ago) while the ancient Chinese were already very familiar with the constellations for far longer and had assigned the Dragon and Tiger to them first.

THE STYLING

Since Tang and Qing dynasty has the most fun and daring make-up trends ands styles, our styles were mainly based on these two periods, jazzed it up for modern taste.

The vermillion bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies. A single red feather nose piece is the only thing to hint at it being a bird.

This styling was designed in collaboration with Aaron Han (@aharw) assisted by gabby @ga.bae.be
Makeup assisted by Danny @chenlingx0 and Silas @operatang
Photo by Aaron and I

The styling was done in a manner to represent the animals but also not in a literal sense. The traits that are used are symbolic, just like the animal themselves are symbolic.

The Vermillion Bird obscures half of its face with a Bian Mian fan which is a half-oval type of fan with a history of over 2,000 years. Originally made of bamboo, it evolved to other materials overtime and the one in the shoot was made with an emerald green silk gauze with weaved patterns. Very understated, and quintessentially Chinese. Its subtletly is juxtaposed with the red feather nose piece of The House of Malakai styled by Aaron (@aharw) to suggest its avian nature. Of course, the collar design and the Tang style (circa 8th century) wing-like eyebrows are also suggestive of that.

Section of the reference brow from Tang. This is a painting on silk screen uncovered from the Astana tombs.

Underneath the nose piece, were rouge blushers across the cheeks which some might recall seeing on famous 90s Chinese singer Faye Wong, or more recently, singer Rainie Yang. Except that it’s a lot more intense, as it would’ve been how the Tang people of the 10th century were copying the Tibetans during that time in this style of make-up.

Who wore it better? Left Faye Wong, Middle a Tibetan lady, Right Rainie Yang.

Obviously celebrities typically don’t do much research when they try on different make-up styles, pretty sure the socialites of Tang didn’t either, it was probably just cool or fun for them to experiment with a different styles because this style of blusher was deemed barbaric by the early Tang rulers, and had requested for the Tibetans to stop this practice. Who’d knew that a few hundred years later, it would become vogue at the end of Tang!

And just in case you thought the hair looks non-Chinese (like the typical long hair at the back in Chinese period dramas), I’d like to point you towards the Dunhuang murals from the Tang dynasty (same period), and look at the blushers and the hairstyle and accessories, it’s really quite Over The Top:

Section of Dunhuang Mural in Mogao Cave no. 61 with a noble lady of late Tang accessoried with many large and elaborate hair pins, haircombs, and the Tibetan style brick-red rouge on her cheeks.

The lip was also historically based on the last dynasty of China—Qing dynasty. Similar to the Tang rulers, the Qing were not of the Han ethnic group although they have adopted a great deal of the Han practices after ruling over this Han-majority land for centuries. The Qing lip would typically be just a red dot on the bottom lip, but there were instances where the top lip was also painted fully.

Picture of Imperial Consort Pearl (Zhen Fei), who was rumoured to have been drowned in a well in the Forbidden City by the Empress Dowager Cixi. She has the Qing style lip with a dot an her bottom lipi in this picture.

The Modern Vermillion Bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies.

The fringe skirt by Raf Simon for Calvin Klein is a reference to its long tail feathers.

Unlike the Phoenix, the Red Bird is just red, while phoenixes were said to be of rainbow colours.

The vermillion bird wears vintage Thierry Mugler jacket, with big exaggerated shoulders but sleek silhouette to emphasize it being an animal of the skies. A single red feather nose piece is the only thing to hint at it being a bird with its front skirt is a reference to its long tail feathers.

The broad shoulder look was never really a Chinese thing, as sloping shoulder would look better in the traditional Chinese garment that has no shoulder seams. But that changed in the 40s with women adding shoulder-pads to their Cheongsams to accentuate the shoulder. This look is exemplified by the Japanese Singer in China Yoshiko Yamaguchi, most famously known by her Chinese stage name Li Xiang Lan 李香兰:

Left: Famous American-Chinese writer Eileen Chang
Right: Yshiko Yamaguchi/Li Xiang Lan in broad shoulder Cheongsam

QUINTESSENTIALLY CHINESE CRAFT, ACCESSORIES AND AESTHETICS

The Western fashion is very big on silhouettes of the dress, while the Chinese has always been about the hair, the craftsmanship, and the understated luxury where one needs to be close enough and in the ‘right circle of knowledge’ to appreciate the weave, the texture, the material, the motif etc. There’s a lot of secrecy behind many of the crafts, and that made them exclusive, therefore a sign of prestige for those who recognise them. Yet, in Chinese culture (quite unlike the Japanese), the craftsmen are anonymous, and undervalued in the grander scheme of things because the Chinese aesthetics has always been literati-led and the craftsmen were more of the ‘technicians’ to the literati’s ‘artistic vision’. Not unlike the many craftsmen working anonymously behind designer brands that bore the mark of the big name designers who most likely did not make those items themselves.

Another style with hair full of Chineseness. Velvet silk flower of bird motif, Chinese-Hakka style wound silk flowers, and purple jade flower.
Bodysuit by Richard Quinn, Nose piece by Ricardo Tisci for Givenchy, styled by Aaron han (@aharw)
Hair and accessories by me, make-up by Silas and I.

And just to transition into the more purely Chinese look, we did another look with more Chinese accessories, and also a Tang style hair and make-up with Qing lips. You probably think that it is a copycat of Frida Kahlo, honestly we didn’t realise it until it’s been done, and I immediately recalled a stranger getting in touch to borrow from me my silk flowers for her dressed-up costume party (she stopped responding the moment I told her the price of the flowers. I know, the value of these things aren’t very apparent to those who are not familiar with them).

I use a lot of lacquer and silk flowers because they are so, so, archetypically Chinese but most people just think of Chinese = gold. When in actuality, Chinese didn’t really use much gold in the ancient past. Or Green Jade (Jadeite) for that matter.

I love the emerald green silk scarve that has the auspicious clouds motif done in silver and gold couching technique.

Notice the green bangle? That is a vintage carved lacquer bangle (very rare to come by as typically it would be in red/cinnabar). Carved lacquer came about sometime during the Tang dynasty as well (circa 8th century or so) and became quite a thing later on so even though lacquer was used in many Asian cultures, carve lacquer can be said to be quintessentially Chinese. It is an extremely tedious process, as you would require hundreds of layers of paint, painted and dried, and painted and dried, before you can reach just a few centimetres of thickness for carving.

The Met (HAH!) had an exhibition on lacquer/cinnabar in 2009, you can read the synopsis HERE.

For the Traditional Chinese Vermillion Bird, I’ve decided to go with a wedding look because we often think of phoenixes for Chinese weddings, yet the colour that brides often wear for that occasion would be Red which is actually the colour of the Vermilion Bird. And since the Vermillion bird is often confused with the Phoenix, and more often than not used interchangeably with it, might as well throw the two into the same mix. If you can’t beat them, join them!

Styled, shot, accessories by me.

And you don’t say, Silas certainly looks a bit like Gemma Chan here don’t you think?

For this time round, she’s wearing cinnabar carved lacquer bangles. One is red-on-red, one is red-on-black. Both are vintage pieces.

Now, I shall introduce you to the real Chinese filigree and cloisonné craft for hair accessories. Not the fashion jewelry type worn on the red carpet at the Met by Chef Melissa King for her nail protector. Apparently it was supposed to be inspired by Empress Dowager Cixi (who is, by the way, NOT the last empress of China, contrary to what the Chef wrote on her insta).

The thing about traditional craftsmanship that came from a lineage of thousands of years, is that they get finer and finer, and they are often consumed by the imperial family so the demand for finesse is extremely high. Also, they are all about understated luxury. If it’s that big a bling, it’s probably too crass for them.

Filigree nailguard with ruby, pearl and kingfisher feather inlay. Collection of the Palace Museum in Beijing.

Close-up details of the nailguard

The Palace Museum collection has quite a number of nail guards made from the Imperial Chinese filigree craft, completed with gems, pearls and kingfisher feathers on many occasions. You can zoom in to see the fine details of these nailguards, and they are extremely intricate —as fine as the kingfisher feathers.

In order to give you a bit more context on the scale of these intricacies, I shall zoom in a little bit on the filigree and cloisonné of the phoenix hairpiece in my photo which has similar craftsmanship as the palace museum nail guard above.

It is made with tiny grains of freshwater pearls and ruby (I think, I can’t remember the stones cos I have too many of these accessories.. lol). Her earrings are also filigree and cloisonné phoenix. SUPER AUSPICIOUS I KNOW!

I did an apprenticeship a couple of years back on filigree, cloisonné and kingfisher feather craft in Beijing, and it was through this process that I came to fully appreciate just how intricate this craft is. It’s not the type that you can see on photos or videos, that’s why celebrities wouldn’t really wear them because they don’t show up on screen that well cos they’re too tiny.

Extremely close up view of the phoenix filigree and cloisonné hairpin.

If you zoom in close enough, you can see that the edges of the wings is made up of tiny dots of gold. It’s actually very very fine silver threads gilded in gold, twisted into like a braid-like structure and welded onto the base. When I did my apprenticeship, the first thing to do was to learn how to pull the thick silver threads into fine strands, finger than human hair. And how to twist them in shape without breaking them. Sorry about the resolution, it’s just too fine for my camera. I will do better next time.

Our vermillion bird bride with a hair full of intangible cultural heritage craft—silk flowers based on Palace Museum collection, and a fan of another type of intangible cultural heritage craft—Kesi, also based on Palace Museum collection.

Since this set is all about intangible cultural heritage and fine Chinese crafts, I threw in the Kesi (literally translated to carved silk) fan. This is a replica of the Qing dynasty fan in the collection of the Palace Museum in Beijing.

The side profile you can see butterfly hair pieces made of dyed silk using the wound silk flowers craft, and also dyed goose feather accessories to replace the kingfisher craft. This hairpiece is based on the Qing dynasty item in the collection of the National Palace Museum in Taipei.

The topic on Kingfisher feather is contentious, and there are many modern attempts to replicate the effect of kingfisher feather without the cruelty of it. Even the Qing dynasty rulers implemented a ban on using kingfisher feathers for accessories (with limited success obviously).

The cloisonné was one of the historical ways during the Qing period which middle class women could get a pseudo kingfisher feather colour accessory while the aristocrats continued with theirs.

These days, wound silk accessories, dyed goose feather, or peacock feathers are all reasonable substitutes. If you’re wondering (as I did), goose and peacock shed feathers quite readily and their feathers are abundant so it’s not like the case of the kingfisher where you need to kill many to get a tiny bit (disclaimer: goose and peacocks are not harmed since you just gather their shed feathers).

I’m actually making a series of accessories with these type of feathers and vintage lacquer pieces, and will be sharing them later half of the year! So stay tuned!

Meanwhile, if you’re planning to have a Chinese wedding shoot, please don’t go red + gold. It’s so cliché and nouveau riche. At least try to add some finesse like turquoise, blue, green, cyan, pearl, aquamarine, lapis lazuli, lacquer… They are going to add a lot more texture and colours to your otherwise crass look. We do, after all, have at least 5000 years of material culture and history to tap on, don’t behave like we only have 50.

Oh no, I was totally not referring to the billionaire daughter’s wedding (which one? so many huh.. :P).

POP CULTURE REFERENCE

The four guardians were first brought to my attention when I was a young latchkey child watching Japanese anime on my couch after school with my sister. Fushigi Yuugi was the name of the anime, and it started with the chapter of the Vermillion Bird of the South—Suzaku (in Japanese). It had all the characters with special abilities, each representing one of the 7 constellations of the southern nightsky under the charge of the Vermilion Bird.

So it is fitting that we start off this series with the Vermillion Bird.

DRAG IN CHINESE CONTEXT & AFTERTHOUGHTS

In the anime, the king of the southern kingdom Hotohori was a man who was as beautiful as a woman, probably very ahead of its time in the 90s.

And in this series, I have worked with Silas (@operatang) to portray this beautiful feminine side of a man. Drag is not new to Chinese traditional culture, except that it was not politicised like the West. The archetypical Chinese Opera look was a result of men trying to hide their masculine facial features in order to look more feminine. And beautiful men were a thing and even recorded in historical texts for thousands of years.

Hotohori in Fushigi Yuugi

When I approached Silas for this project, I also intended to try to re-interpret drag as we know it today in a traditional Chinese manner—from the perspective of someone who wants to look as much like a woman in representation according to a male perspective. This is historically related to the oppression of women in public for about 500 years where images and representation of women were manifested through male bodies in public performances, through their ideas of what a woman is like, how we walk, how we talk, or by male painters.

So as a result, as it is today, men could be more ‘feminine’ than we are (small sample size, but the 2 women involved this shoot can attest to that!). Maybe femininity has often been depicted through the male gaze, so what we see is often a man’s ideal woman image (not how we actually behave, but how they fantasize us to be). So a man could possibly represent very well this ‘ideal femininity’ if they are in touch with their feminine side. Silas showed me some Asian drag queens who are absolutely gorgeous and live up to the ideal female archetype upheld by society (we’re all fellow subjects of the male gaze in this instance!).

I also wondered about the concept of ‘womanface‘ in western drag practices, where features of what it meant to be a woman were used as content for jokes, as part of the overall ‘ridiculous’ look. I’m not sure if I prefer that, or the over-romanticisation of female body during our oppression (as in the Chinese context). Two extremes of the male take on femininity.

Food for thought I guess!

AND because you lasted till the end of this article, you are rewarded with a Vermillion Bird Instagram/facebook selfie make-up filter! Click on the hyperlinked text to claim them:

INSTAGRAM
Vermillion Bird (without frame)
Vermillion Bird (with 5 choices of Chinese motif frames)

FACEBOOK

Vermillion Bird (without frame)
Vermillion Bird (with 5 choices of Chinese motif frames)

Beyond Red: The Chinese Palette–The Calm After Storm Blue 汝窑

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If you’re a Jay Chou fan, you’ve GOT to know this colour–Greyish blue sky colour 天青色 which was part of the lyrics written by his lyrics Fang Wen Shan in his famous song 青花瓷. This is a colour-term that is imperially unique and reserved for the Ru ware of Song dynasty.

The Ru ware, for all its understated simplicity, is seen as the king of Chinese porcelain. There’s even a Chinese saying that regardless of how wealthy a person is, it pales in comparison to just a fragment of the Ru ware.

The colour of Ru ware was said to be inspired by the colour of the sky after rain, where the clouds parted and the sky revealed itself.

Although the song title referred to the blue-and-white porcelain which most of us are more familiar with, based on the lyricist’s reflection article, we know that he was actually really referring to the Ru ware of Song dynasty. After all, the lyrics did mention the Song calligraphy writing!

The Ru ware celadon

The Ru ware is most famously known for its record-breaking high auction prices, having fetched almost 0.3 billion HKD in 2017’s auction by Sotheby’s HK. And, Sotheby’s has a really nice video dedicated to the Ru ware.

You must’ve find it extremely underwhelming to have anyone paying so incredibly much for something you probably can find in Daiso. I know what you’re thinking.

Except that you can never find it in Daiso. Even with today’s technology, artisans are struggling to replicate it to no avail.

There’s something that pictures cannot capture, I was told, about these Ru wares that there’s a faint purplish glow to its greyish-blue-green glaze that is matte-ish.

Also, apparently they are all extremely dainty in size, with most of the items ranging between 10-16cm, and very few above 20cm, almost none that’s more than 30cm. Thus the saying–nothing big ever comes out of Ru ware 汝窑无大器 (oh the irony).

As always, Emperor Qianlong of Qing dynasty likes to mark his collection with his chops and comments. Neither he nor his dad Emperor Yongzhen was able to replicate the beauty of Ru ware, so I guess the best that he could do was to mark his territory.

So from a mercantile pov, it’s an extremely high price per cubic cm price. That’s why one can never look at works of art or antiques through a monetary lens.

Today’s replicas are generally too glossy and are made of coloured pigments so the colour isn’t a result of the chemical reaction that the glaze underwent when heated unlike the original. It was said that the ancient craftsmen mixed agate (a semiprecious stone) powder amongst others in the glaze to produce this look.

So let me tell you why people, even in 2017, fought for good 20 minutes at the auction, over 30 bids, to arrive at such an astronomical amount for a simple, understated, minimally decorated plate.

Unattainability
There are only about 100 pieces known to exist in this entire world, with only about 10 in private collection and the rest under the collection of various museums (strictly prohibited from auctioning and reselling). So there’s almost no circulation of such in the private market.

Notice the faint purplish ream around this greyish blue glaze

Rarity
These pieces were only produced as imperial ware for a very short period of 20 years (this is extremely short compared to others that have been around for centuries) and dynasties. It has a jade-like quality, but some researchers believed that its production ceased partly because they ran out of the right material to produce this exact glaze. Another reason was because of foreign invasion during that period, the production ceased and after relocation, they weren’t able to reproduce them anymore perhaps due to access to raw material or other limitations.

Irreplicability

The skills and knowledge of creating such glaze are lost. Even in subsequent eras and dynasties, artisans were unable to recreate the glaze to its original glory, let alone current day artisans who have been long-removed from that past.

In case you suspect that the high price of Ru ware might be from its lack of crackling lines–The Ru wares also have really fine crackling lines, but it differs quite a bit from the harsh lines of Ge and Guan wares. The Ru ware’s lines were really fine and there is a lot of variations between the weight of the lines (thickness and thinness vary greatly).

Definitely a dainty glaze for the dainty ware.

Ru for the Romantics

Besides the extremely elegant and minimalist design, the Ru ware is also associated with romantic ideals of the Song dynasty, and in particular that of, the Song emperor Song Huizong.

Nope, not this guy. But maybe close.

“Albert Camus wrote a novel, The Stranger, in which his character, Meursault, is condemned to death. Three days before his execution, he was able for the first time in his life to touch the blue sky. He is in his cell, he is looking at the ceiling. He discovers a square of blue sky appearing through the skylight. Strangely enough, a man forty years of age is able to see the blue sky for the first time. Of course, he had looked at the stars and the blue sky more than once before, but this time it was for real. We might not know how to touch the blue sky in such a profound way. The moment of awareness Camus describes is mindfulness: Suddenly you are able to touch life.”–Thich Nhat Hanh

Very much like the character in Camus’ novel, Song Huizong was an emperor who wanted to be reminded of life in a mindful and deliberate manner. He was a firm believer of Taoism (almost to a bit of an extremist state actually), and there has been a long-established tradition amongst Chinese literati to aspire towards being one with nature through acts such as having bonsai and stone formations in their gardens. The discovery of Ru ware, too, was in line with that romantic aspiration.

As usual, there are several versions of stories on the founding of Ru ware. My favourite and the most romantic one was that in the deepest of the imperial palace over 900 years ago, Emperor Song Huizong had a dream. In it, he dreamt of a beautifully calming scene where the rain had just stopped, and the clouds were started to part. He found the part of the sky where the clouds were parting particularly charming and ordered for his men to make a glaze according to that colour in his dream.

After multiple trial-and-error, they finally succeeded in creating it around 1090 CE.

The blue and white porcelain that we are most familiar with was very much used for foreign export or commoners in its ancient past (thus the universal familiarity with it), whereas the Ru glaze was very much something owned by only the Chinese imperial family.

Knowledge of such glaze is a symbol of your cultural capital or social status–so now you’re all qualified to parade around pretending to be of the literati class! I’m sure mentioning this would earn you quite some respect from the more learned Chinese!

I’ve read that there is a Taiwanese artisan who managed to almost replicate the colour and lustre of the Ru ware, using agate and gold powder as ingredients. Judging from the images, I would say that it really seems like quite a close match with quite a reasonable price tag of about 1800 SGD for a cup (it’s relative!)!

As self-orientalising as this sounds, this scene reminds me of Puccini’s Madame Butterfly’s Cio-cio san and Pinkerton (before the separation).

I am aware how this set of dresses look very Japanese, but it’s actually Tang dynasty style of dressing toned down to blend with the Song aesthetics. And that’s why this looks very Japanese–because a large part of the Japanese aesthetic and arts is very much inspired by the Tang and Song period of China.

The Ru ware and its calming qualities (haha I’m making this sound like crystals or some new age thing) remind ancient literati and emperors alike the importance of nature, simplicity, and authenticity. It’s ok to appear plain and simple if you have greater depth to your existence, and your value will be appreciated in time like a beacon of clear light shining through the messy opulence.

My model will probably kill me but, I have decided not to edit his beard to stay true to the Song aesthetic belief–there’s beauty in imperfection and simplicity.

Tea Pairing

Fenghuang Dancong

A highly versatile tea with a sweet alluring profile, Dancong is perhaps best known for its ability to evoke myriad aromas and flavours like tropical fruits and flowers — think peach, apricot, jasmine, orange blossom, citrus, and so on. Like a soft, gentle, shy, and sweet summer kiss, Dancong is at once intoxicating and invigorating, veiled ever so thinly in an aura of exoticness and mystery.

Credits/Acknowledgement:
Flowers and styling by @blancstudios.co
Model styling and photography by @hanfugirl
Tea recommendation by Kenny from Teatle-Tattle

Beyond Red: The Chinese Palette–Sensual White定窑

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White colour is most likely to be voted the most unlikely colour for Chinese wedding with Black being the only other contender for top spot. However, it might surprise you to know that both Black and White have been used for weddings in various points in Chinese history. I’ll talk about black another time, but now, let’s focus on White and its symbolism and cultural importance in the Chinese culture.

The Song Dynasty’s Ding porcelain ware was known for its white colour range which in turn was supposed to represent the white jade (nephrite) of ancient Chinese traditions. There were of course other glaze colours but white was by far the most valuable and highly sought after one by collectors then and now.

Although a colour that none would associate with the Chinese wedding today, white was not always seen as inauspicious. It depends on the context of use, and in fact, the practice of wearing white for a wedding in China also took place some 1,800 years ago! There were a few hundred years in Chinese history where white was sought after by rulers and commoners alike and was prized as one of the more desirable colours to wear for weddings!

History of White in Chinese culture

As early as over 2000 years ago in China, there was a strong belief in the 5 elements–Fire, Metal, Earth, Wood, Water.

They each represented a direction (North, South, East, West, Centre), a colour (Red, White, Blue/Green, Black, Yellow) and many many other things like your internal organs and health, medicine, seasons etc.

So long story short–the 5 elements were seen as governing your entire system of living, the ecosystem, the rule of life.

White, corresponds to the Metal element. But for thousands of years before that, it has been seen as a plain colour/style for dressing and which was used for funerals. So it is true that it has always been associated with the inauspicious and the dead.

However, there was a (relatively) short period after the Han Dynasty in the 3rd century or so, where the traditional symbolic meaning of White was disregarded in daily wear, and transformed into a fashionable colour all because a powerful and influential ruler liked it.

The ruler is none other than the famous warlord Cao Cao 曹操 of the 3 kingdoms, who was also known for his chronic spitting headaches, and for killing a famous Chinese physician Hua Tuo for suggesting skull operations (but that’s another story for another day). So basically he felt much better after wearing a white scarf on his head when having the headache (placebo effect alert on high!), and then it kickstarted the trend of people wearing white headscarves, and even white for weddings!

In fact, there is also a record mention in a Qing dynasty book in the 17th century 陇蜀余闻 compiled by a scholar about the sightings and customs of the Sichuan region. In it, he mentioned that the Sichuan/Shaanxi border place, white was a highly prestigious and popular colour and that men and women would wrap their head with white scarves. In another neighbouring area, the people would wear white dresses/costumes for their new year and auspicious occasions. These people were regarded as the “original” descendants of Han people and culture. It was believed that they wore white in memory of Zhuge Liang (a miliary strategist during the 3 kingdoms in the 3rd century), and that tradition continued and evolved to become auspicious wear.

But more than just a colour, the white dresses iconic in many paintings from that era also represented the spirit of the time. It was a period where the overbearing Confucianism of the period era was breaking apart, and people opted for a more free-spirited look–which was white! Along with it, people also started wearing slippers to official events to express their rebellion against Confucianism.

It was the start of the pursuit of minimalism as an influence from Taoism and Neo-Taoism school of thought. The emphasis is on nothingness, beauty in nature and a pursuit for the simple and true form of things （以无为本，返璞归真）–something that made a comeback in the Song dynasty some 1000 years later around the 10-12th century.

The White porcelain glaze of the Ding kiln （定窑） during the Song dynasty

Some consider Ding ware as “stoneware” instead of porcelain as its chemical make-up doesn’t seem to contain any “porcelain stone”.

Song dynasty is known for its Minimalist taste, and this would then go on to influence the Japanese minimalist which we are so familiar with today. And the Ding wares were considered one of the top porcelain wares produced during that period, in accordance with the Song taste.

The kiln which fired this type of porcelain ware started production of such in the period before during the late Tang dynasty (circa 9th century), but reached its peak during the Song dynasty(10-12th century). And what started out as a civilian’s kiln before was elevated to the status of an imperial kiln later on where only the imperial family had access to. With the passage of time, it evolved to producing other coloured wares such as black, purple and green Ding wares, but none was as famous as the white ones. Kinda like how every brand has a signature design, though they also produce other designs, the best seller is always its signature (and also the highest pricing one).

The shallow relief patterns on white porcelain of Ding wares was the predecessor of the blue and white porcelain that is so iconic of Chinese ceramics later on.

Its aesthetics was said to be smooth, thinly and lightly applied, and opaque with a slight tinge of yellow, like the top quality white Jade adored by the Chinese. Yes, opaque nephrite (AKA soft jade软玉 AKA real jade真玉), not gemstone-like translucent/crystal clear jadeite (AKA hard jade硬玉), were seen as extremely valuable and desirable by the Chinese for its lustre, and how it probably reminded one of the femininity, and soft and tender skin of a woman (my own theory).

The porcelain pillow below is a fine example of the Ding ware collection of the Beijing Palace Museum. History of porcelain pillows goes all the way back to the Sui dynasty (7th century), was popularised during the Tang dynasty after, and reached its peak in the Song dynasty all the way into the Mongolian rule in the 12th century or so. What started as being purely functional took on a more aesthetic and artistic identity and all kinds of animals and motifs were incorporated into its making. Eventually, it faced its decline in the Ming and Qing dynasty (from 13th century onwards) due to the availability of softer and better material for the pillow.

Norther Song dynasty Dingware porcelain pillow with child

I remember someone lamenting right next to me in a museum when standing in front of a porcelain pillow, about how uncomfortable that must’ve felt. However, I think that it is very much a question of preference and shifting taste. For one, I feel that the traditional Chinese has a huge preference for harder materials (wooden sofas, beds etc.) and my parents always complain about mine being too soft and lack the form and support they require. Also, they said it’s much cooling that way. Likewise for porcelain pillow I guess!

There’s a quick and interesting article from Christie’s on this!

There are jades, and there is Jade

Tang dynasty top quality white jade bangle with gold setting and connecting parts vs my cheaper replicas. One would’ve thought that my jade is of better quality, but I would have to sell my kidneys to buy an opaque white “mutton fat”/Lanolin jade whereas the translucent one costs much less.

Just like how the Eskimos have 100 over words for snow (that’s a myth btw),  and how the Japanese are familiar with hundreds of fish names (that’s true), the Chinese have many types of stones which they call jade. There are serpentine jade, jadeite jade, nephrite jade, jasper jade etc. So basically Chinese like to call pretty stones of similar colour and texture jade. And naturally, certain jades are more authentically and traditionally Chinese than others. It might surprise you to know that Jadeite jade (翡翠feicui) is not one of the ancient-traditional ones despite its pervasiveness in the world and in Chinese culture today.

One thing that set ancient Chinese aesthetics apart from the West (besides porcelains) and our general taste today is their preference for more muted and understated pieces of jade. Nephrite jade has been highly regarded in Chinese culture for over 5,000 years, whereas Jadeite Jade, which the rest of the world is more familiar with, only has a history of about 500 years in Chinese culture as it was originally from Myanmar. When Jadeite was first introduced to China during the Ming dynasty, it wasn’t popular nor expensive, and it was only about the last century or so that its price skyrocketed (possibly because of the shifting aesthetics towards more gem-like translucent stones).

And the most prized type of white nephrite jade is what is known as the “mutton fat jade” (I would like to translate it as Lanolin jade) 羊脂玉 from Xinjiang region (Western China). The empress’s seal from Western Han dynasty over 2,000 years ago was found to be made of this type of nephrite. To the Chinese, white (slightly yellow tinge), opaque jade that looks like a smooth and rich crystalised fats represented the righteousness and purity of values they so look up to.

The English translated name definitely sounds quite gross (thus my own proposed name Lanolin), since the Chinese term for fats/cream–Zhi脂, has an extra quality of delicateness often associated with women. The smooth and fullness of the jade are described as 润Run (lustre is the closest word), and together with the concept of this full, white Zhi/fat/cream, they create an idealised image of a beautiful woman with her soft, tender skin/bosom. There’s even a Chinese saying that someone (a woman’s) skin is like frozen Zhi /fats/cream (some things are just better in its original language and pronunciation 肤如凝脂). Think of it as being closer to tofu, than uh, fats.

My husband said I might be overthinking this, but as an ex-Lit student, reading into words and picking out nuances is what I love doing!

Flower & Plant Pairing

When I collaborated with Blanc Studios for the shoot, I briefly explained to them the Ding kiln aesthetics through images, and while I work on the model styling, they worked on the floral and composition stylings.

Jonathan’s design is inspired by serenity and the surface of water. So we got in the lotus, and had the chair decorated as if it’s a leaf-boat that’s floating on the surface of water. The model, then has this Thumbelina feel, like a lotus that’s resting atop the leaf.

Beyond its religious association with Buddhism, culturally, the lotus was seen as a symbol of purity in China. There is a Chinese phrase that is used to describe the beauty and purity of the flower–出污泥而不染，濯清涟而不妖。

Surprise, surprise, this phrase actually came from a Song dynasty writer!

Here’s a poetic translation of the relevant passage:

“[M]ore worldly people have adored the peony ever since the Tang dynasty. But my special love is for the lotus which grows out of the mud but remains unsoiled, is cleansed by pure rippling water and which, for all its beauty, remains free from seductive guile.”
-Translated by Mark Friggiths

I really like the combination of green and white even though green was not part of the original palette for Ding wares. It adds to the entire feeling of being at one with nature, and that lotus with its lotus leaves just floating atop water, drifting down the river.

The white lotus (yes it’s lotus, not peony!) and tulips worked really nicely in bringing out Elizabeth (the model)’s gentleness.

You probably wouldn’t realise, but she was seated on a Song dynasty style armchair! Chairs weren’t really popular in China until this period actually! In the past, people used to kneel on the floor just like how the Japanese are still continuing with this tradition. Then the Chinese started using stools, and chairs, and then in Song dynasty, there was this foldable armchair being invented and even then, that’s really meant for men or really important people of the household. Women just stand around or sit on stools generally. Yes, gender politics of the furniture!

So I’m really quite happy that Jon (Blanc Studios) actually turned the chair into a beautiful frame and support for a woman, kind of subverting its original history.

Tea Pairing

Just to complete this entire shoot with a bit of tea, I have also invited Kenny, a Tea sommelier, to recommend the type of tea that would complement the light and gentleness of the Ding wares.

Bai Mu Dan (white peony)

Connoting light and translucency with the gentleness of white jade, wares of the Ding kiln make us reach out for a glass of white tea such as this wild-grown Bai Mu Dan. The light pale colour of the tea and its soft gentle aromas and flavours evoke a sense of calming brightness and warmth, coupled with a deep and comforting expression of purity and elegance.

Credits/Acknowledgement:
Flowers and styling by @blancstudios.co
Model styling and photography by @hanfugirl
Tea recommendation by Kenny from Teatle-Tattle

Beyond Red: The Chinese Palette–Perfect Imperfections哥窑

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Just like how John Legend’s All of me would have you believe, your perfect imperfection is deeply valued by ancient Chinese over 1000 years ago. And we have porcelain glazes from the imperial court of Song dynasty to prove it.

Greatly influenced by the school of Zen Buddhism under Mahayana Buddhism of Tang dynasty (7-10th Century), the Song (10-13th Century) aesthetics infused it with Taoism of its period and started the trend of wabi-sabi in its art, literature and of course, porcelain. This highly refined Chinese aesthetic went on to influence Japanese aesthetic sensibility profoundly as it embraced Zen Buddhism and Chinese tea-drinking practices and culture.

Chinese Minimalism and the love for imperfection

For those unfamiliar with the concept of Wabi-Sabi–essentially it was about the appreciation of the impermanence, asymmetry, humiliation and imperfection. These concepts are the opposite of the Western pursuit of symmetry, permanence, grandeur and perfection (of course this is a very sweeping statement, but generally that’s the rough idea).

If you’ve read my interview with artist/designer-artisan Lijing, you would be introduced slightly to the Chinese hierarchy of taste. One that is based on the taste of the scholars and literati and which has a strong Han Chinese sensibility and pursuit for the understated and the minimalist.

I’m sure the term Chinese minimalist is something that feels rather foreign to most people as we generally associate the Chinese culture with kitschy opulence and loud, excessive colours. But if you think about the traditional Chinese ink paintings, and how stylised and minimalist they are, then it might not seem so unrelated after all.

Such an aesthetic sensibility was not democratised and popularised amongst the average population in ancient/feudal Chinese societies as it requires a large amount of cultural capital. Access to those is strictly determined by your social hierarchy officially registered with the government (and hereditary). So essentially there’s no way a merchant class, however wealthy, would have the means or environment to be surrounded by a culture and people of that type/level, let alone the other poorer peasants. Since we mentioned hierarchies, the caste system is not unique to India, Chinese had it too, and it might surprise you to know that merchants are the lowest of the hierarchy (the opposite from modern society it seems!).

As such, it remained aloof and exclusive to the aristocrat and literatis of Han-Chinese culture in its early days. Then, with warfare and changing rulers, other aesthetic sensibilities overshadowed it.

侘び寂び

The term wabi-sabi is a uniquely Japanese term which pervades throughout its history and art forms. Although it was brought to Japan from China, there is no formal term for it today in Chinese and the Chinese now use the borrowed word 侘寂  (cha ji) instead. Perhaps the closest Chinese phrase I could think of would be 残缺美 or melancholy.

In the aspect of the love for an imperfect appearance, we could see it when the Chinese ladies of the Tang court painted scar-like shapes on their temples to look beautiful. And in the instance of the Song porcelains, the crackling effect was intentionally created in pursuit of this sense of beauty.

The difference between the Japanese and the Chinese understanding as expressed in their artforms would most likely be the difference in degree in which they pursue this sense of imperfection.

For the Chinese, the concept of balance and moderation is still the basis of its cultural philosophy. So when they create beautifully sculpted vases or containers, the compliment it with some crackling lines to display the balance between perfection and imperfection, and also to add greater interest and depth to it.

The Japanese seem to pursue this imperfection to a great extent and would intentionally create imperfect and raw-looking vases and containers to amplify this concept.

This palette is full of earthy tones, and interweaving linework.

While many of the other porcelain glazes of the period had intentionally created crackling lines, the Gare ware took it to the next level of having dark/black crackling details that emphasised the imperfection even more.

The Ge Ware AKA The Elder Brother porcelain ware story

The story of Ge Ware is basically a familiar one about sibling rivalry. There were actually two kilns, one by the elder brother called Ge Kiln (which means elder brother kiln) and another by the younger brother called Di Kiln (which means younger brother kiln) or Long Quan kiln (based on the location of the kiln).

The elder brother was the hardworking one, and produced really premium porcelain. The emperor heard about his work and made an order. Obviously, the younger brother was unhappy with the praises that his elder brother has been receiving and wanted to sabotage his brother for this critical order from the emperor.

One day, the elder brother had to run some urgent errand and asked the younger brother to take care of the kiln for him. It was a golden opportunity for the younger brother to sabotage the WIP porcelains of the elder brother, and he did just that. When the elder brother returned, he opened up the kiln and was shocked to find that the otherwise perfectly smooth glaze of the porcelains had millions of cracks appearing.

He didn’t know what to do, but like any good Chinese man, decided to have a cup of tea while he regains his composure using the ‘ruined’ porcelain cups. When he did so, he realised that the tea has stained the cracks into brown lines, and then he dapped some Chinese ink on it which formed the black lines.

He brought them to the market to see if anyone would like them, and some literati walked by, and gave it really high praise, willing to pay high price for these bowls. Encouraged by the validations of the gentlemen/literati, he sent these to the emperor. The ware was very well received by the empror and this highly unlikely but nevertheless accept tale became the “Founding” tale of Ge ware.

As expected, the Chinese literati also gave those black and brown cracklines a very poetic name–Golden silk-threads and silver strings 金丝银线.

In a way, isn’t that what we love about mosaic artworks? That fragile balance between the is and isn’t, the positive and negative space, and that sense of peek-a-boo.

Like John Legend being in love with the perfect imperfections, this has been a forgotten but very much indigenously Chinese aesthetic concept. Cracks on the surface, like stretch marks (in today’s Dove-advert context), were meant to be unique prints of an object. Viewers who appreciate these unique marks were deemed to be more sophisticated and therefore more worthy of befriending by the literati (I concur) as they saw beyond the superficial perfection and understood the uniqueness and depth of an object.
I came across an elegant English quote that beautifully expresses the abstract idea of the attractiveness in such imperfection.

“At the beginning and end of time, Truth was a beautiful glowing orb. One day, the orb was shattered into shards that outnumbered the stars in the universe by one to infinity. These shards became souls. Thus it is that each soul represented one part of Truth. But Life intervened, and many souls believed that they were Truth, and so Hatred was bred. But some souls held onto the memory, and attempted to remind the souls who’ve forgotten.

I do not know the end of the story as it is yet to be written. But I do know that when all the souls are reunited, the space between the shards would be where the light shines through. And that Truth’s beauty would then take another form.”

Flower Styling

When Jon conceptualised the floral styling of this set, he was greatly influenced by his ikebana training (which has Buddhism origin as well). He wanted to create a composition that has interweaving of lines, positive and negative space, and a play on simplicity in complexity. So a fair bit of branch work was added into this simple arrangement to add greater layer and complexity.

We wanted to create a new East Asian aesthetic for weddings, which isn’t too over the top as what people have stereotyped/orientalised it to be. East Asian floristy often features leaves, trees, branches and lines more than flowers per se.

Tea Pairing

Since the story revolves around how tea made a difference in the success of Ge ware, naturally it’s time to introduce the tea pairing for this set!

Lishan oolong or Dong Ding

On the surface, oolong may seem like a relatively simple class of tea, when in actual fact it requires the most tedious and complex processing methods. Within oolong there are plenty of regional and stylistic differences, but they are most appreciated for their outstanding bouquet and breadth of flavours. Wares of the Ge kiln, both in their simplicity and complexity as well as its range of varying colours and expressions, work up in us a thirst for Lishan or Dong Ding, teas that are enjoyed for their floral/fruity nuances or deeper mellower characters.

Credits/Acknowledgement:
Flowers and styling by @blancstudios.co
Model styling and photography by @hanfugirl
Tea recommendation by Kenny from Teatle-Tattle

Beyond Red: The Chinese Palette–Imperial Turquoise 官窑

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There’s Tiffany blue, and there’s Imperial Turquoise.
One has a history of 200 years, the other has a history of almost 1000. And we’re going to talk about the more ancient one in this article.

Finally kicking off my latest collaboration that is done with my good pal from Blanc Studios which relooks at the traditional Chinese wedding aesthetics! In this series, I will reveal a new palette that is built on the finest of traditional Chinese taste–the Song dynasty glaze palette and a bit of jade history.

And yes, because Red, however beautiful and auspicious, is overrated.

We know how the Chinese love rankings, so this series will be based on the top 5 porcelain glaze and kiln during the Song dynasty–a period known for its incredibly fine and sophisticated taste, and the original inventors of minimalism.

The Song dynasty (10-13th Century) was a period where great Chinese arts flourished and so many different types of porcelains were being created and produced in specialised kilns with unique glazes across the land. Out of the 170 ancient sites for porcelains in China, the Song dynasty ones occupied 130 sites which made up 75% of the total. That makes Song dynasty the most China period in China (haha!).

The term Guan ware is not unique to the Song dynasty, because it simply meant the imperial/official kiln where such wares are made. So you would have Guan ware from various era displaying a range of different characteristics. However, I’m going to focus on the Guan ware of Northern Song dynasty (the period was split into Northern and then Southern Song due to warfare).

Having the imperial brand meant that these wares were only supplied to the imperial family to be used, and not to be, under any circumstances, be owned by a commoner. The imperial kiln Guan ware production during the Song dynasty took it a step further and was personally managed and directed by the emperor himself!

The emperor with the highest artistic achievement in the entire history of China is generally believed to emperor Song Huizong who ruled China around the 11th century. He was really more of an artistic genius with impeccable taste, than a strategic ruler. Which is also why even till today, the Chinese still looked to the Song dynasty and in particular, the taste of emperor Song Huizong as the epitome of sophistication and finesse. In contrast, the Qing dynasty emperor Qianlong has often been mocked (especially in pop culture lately) for his opulent and ‘crude’ taste.

Unfortunately, good taste is not enough to run an empire.

This artist, calligrapher, poet, lyricist, collector, emperor, who excelled in everything artistic was hopeless at running a country. As a result, he lost half his empire to the Jurchens and lived in captivity for 9 years.

Not the most auspicious thing to say about weddings but… one cannot talk about Song dynasty art without mentioning this genius. After all, he was the one who brought us this imperial turquoise colour which precedes tiffany blue by about 700 years. Yeap, no biggies, just 700 years.

The Imperial Turquoise glaze of the Guan kiln (官窑) during the Song dynasty

Characterised by a thin porcelain base coated with a thick glaze of turquoise, the Guan ware was also marked by web-like crackling lines that spread across its entire surface. This aesthetic was personally designed by emperor Song Huizong as he was unsatisfied with the porcelain wares that were created for his use at that point.

This craft was made by combining techniques and colours from a few other separate kilns–one of which has a very similar look and colour as this Guan ware–The Ru ware (AKA the most expensive porcelain ever auctions). We will get to the Ru ware in time. So in a way, this is technically more precious/highly regarded in its time than the Ru ware.

There are extremely few (if any) Guan ware in the commercial market because it was only owned by the emperor and passed down the lineage (since they were not to be used for burial), so one can only see them in the palace museums (Taiwan and Beijing)!

The emperor basically commissioned a compilation of all the ancient bronze ware collection he had and got his imperial kiln to create porcelain wares based on the form of those historical items but in an aesthetic that resembles jade more. His purpose? To embed greater meaning and sense of origin in every piece created.

Yeap, he’s my man.

Since I mentioned jade, I would like to clarify that the ancient Chinese refer to pretty stones as jade in general. But the jades they usually refered to are Nephrite jades which have a history of over 5,000 years in Chinese culture. Ancient Chinese did not use Jadeite jade until the last 500 years or so, and even then, the status of Jadeite was quite low.

This is why you would see that they linked porcelain to nephrite jades–because both were rather opaque-looking materials.

The wedding look book

Of course, I am not a cultural revisionist! I do think that traditions are important, so although I’m proposing a different colour palette for Chinese weddings, it can still fit very well into the traditional Tea Ceremony!

The idea of the Guan ware fits this traditional (kind of) Chinese embroidered/embellished wedding dress perfectly! For one, the beads that lined the dress are very similar to the air bubbles that lined the Guan ware surfaces, which apparently is another unique aesthetic of the glaze. Also, there is this formality that is not too overpowering about this set due to the cool light tone.

A word of caution to all Chinese brides–don’t wear your hair down if you want to go for a traditional Chinese dress look. Traditionally, women had to have their hair up after the coming of age (around 16 years old) or after they get married (whichever is earlier). So unless you want to look like a XX-year-old virgin refusing to accept your new found status and long-established age, I suggest having them styled up neatly.

I told Jon during brainstorm stage, that the overall colour is like turquoise with a bit of purplish tinge, so naturally, hydrangeas (my favourite flower!) was chosen for this set. The styling of the backdrop and flowers were all by Jon, and he went along with the idea of a formal ceremony that remains somewhat light and fun!

So we had a lot of symmetry in this set (something which you’ll find missing in the rest of the series later on), to express that sense of order which is often associated with the Chinese empire.

Jon also invited a cake artist brand Sherramelts on board for this collab and I think the combination of the round backdrop with the square cake works really well along the ancient Chinese idea of a round heaven and a square earth (天圆地方). You see this aesthetic perpetuating the Chinese culture in many aspects such as their architecture design and layout, their ancient bangles designs etc.

In a way, when a reunion is between heaven and earth, I think it would be considered supremely auspicious and in order from a Chinese perspective!

Tea Pairing

Just to complete this entire shoot with a bit of tea, I have also invited Kenny, a Tea sommelier, to recommend the type of tea that would complement the light and gentleness of the Ding wares.

Wuyi yancha, Laocong Shuixian

The Song court highly favoured tribute tea that came from the area of Wuyi in Fujian.

This was clear especially to tea aficionado and poet Su Dong Po, who wrote: 君不見武夷溪邊粟粒芽，前丁後蔡相籠加，爭新買寵各出意，今年鬥品充官茶。Today, Wuyi tea is considered to be some of the finest in the world. Among them, Shuixian from old tea trees is particularly highly prized for its richness and depth — truly an icon of class and finesse in its own right.

Credits/Acknowledgement:
Flowers and styling by @blancstudios.co
Model styling and photography by @hanfugirl
Cake by @Sherramelts
Tea recommendation by Kenny from Teatle-Tattle

Beyond Red: The Chinese Palette

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Whenever one thinks of the Chinese wedding or anything Chinese, red is the defacto colour that comes to mind. But that’s not necessarily representative of the diversity and depth of the Chinese culture and history. In a few days’ time, it will be the Chinese festival of flowers. It’s opportune to reveal a sneak peek of the latest floral+fusion project that I did with a few friends. I am aware that my Sailormoon series still has 4 more to go so I will do that concurrently too!!

Jonathan (from Blanc Studios) and I have been wanting to do a series of modern Chinese wedding-ish shoot to redefine the Chinese wedding aesthetics inspired by the history and taste of ancient past.

We settled on Song dynasty for its minimalist aesthetics which is relevant to the trend today (yes, tastes and trends are very cyclical). There’s a lot of hype over the Yanxi Palace’s supposedly Modi colour scheme, and I’m so over and done with Qing dynasty for a long time to come, so I thought why not just work on the amazing China porcelain glaze which the Song dynasty is known for! It’s definitely more than the blue and white glaze that we automatically think of.

As we live in a world that’s increasingly anti-intellectual, it’s also refreshing to look back into history to a period where there was a thriving intellectual and artistic environment. The beauty that it offered could only be reimagined since these glaze techniques have been lost and there is only a handful of these in the collections of museums and private collectors. It was the culmination of thousands of years of evolution, distillation and crystalisation of finesse.

Ding Ware

And of course, China (ware) is a superbly appropriate medium to look at to represent Chinese aesthetics! Chinese Song dynasty culture and aesthetics also influenced Japanese culture heavily such as the use of ground tea powder (matcha) and their tea ceremony. Ikebana was also something that evolved from Chinese floral arrangement traditions. So while many look at Chinese aesthetics as kitschy/gaudy/red-only, it is in my personal interest to explore the alternative aesthetics of the literatis and aristocrats in ancient China.

They created the light elegant turquoise glaze a thousand years before Tiffany Blue patented its colour. And mind you, with an extra touch of understated sophistication.

Guan Ware  Ru Ware

They experimented and appreciated the more alternative mix of galaxy palette thousand of years before it exploded on social media.
Jun Ware

They also were the original creator of wabi-sabi aesthetics that values imperfection, before the world associated it with the Japanese ethos. Albeit with much less melancholy.

Ge Ware

I’ve also invited Kenny to jazz this up further (is that even possible one might ask, and my reply is a resounding yes!). So he is going to come in with his recommendation of 5 types of tea that would fit the spirit of these 5 glazes according to my interpretation (disclaimer alert). It would be nice if we have an event that serves the 5 teas in Chinaware of these 5 glazes (replicas obviously :P), and get Kenny and Jon to talk about flowers and tea as well.

As we speak, the hanfugirls have just booked a private course on Ikebana with Jon so we’ll be able to share more (hopefully) on our creations soon!

I was just discussing about the Chinese identity, and in particular the Chinese diaspora identity with a new friend. And I echo the recent themes in Aquaman and Wonder Woman–that hybridity is nothing to be ashamed of and it does not make us culturally weaker or more inferior than the “purebred” Chinese (there’s no purebred anyway). I am really embracing the complexity of my Chinese identity these days because sometimes it really takes getting out of the culture to relook and appreciate it.

Diasporas tend to hold on really tight to their culture, fearing to change as if that would make them/us less legitimate as someone of a particular ethnic/culture otherwise. I think diversity cultural identity should empower, not handicap us. It’s great to be a diaspora because you straddle between different worlds, and you benefit from the multiple perspectives. You acquire different languages of understanding due to this exposure, and there’s more lateral thinking that’s possible as a result of this.

So this series is to redefine and challenge our assumptions and the world’s stereotypical idea of what they understand or know about the Chinese culture and wedding look. I will go into individual look and the special glaze of the Song dynasty in the individual posts.