The Beauty of Chinese Ceramic Spoons is Not Skin Deep

Looking back to my thirty-five years’ love affair with collecting antique Chinese ceramic spoons always brings back joyful and exciting memories. I can vividly recall scouring for these much ignored and elusive common dining utensils in three continents. When I first became a novice collector in the late 1960s, I had to endure painful learning experiences which are documented in my posting of February 2008. However unpleasant these experiences were, they have taught me an indelible lesson in collecting that it takes years of experience and learning to become a shrewd and cultivated collector, and there are no short cuts to it.

At that time, good quality antique pieces were still available in several reputable antique shops in my native Singapore and neighbouring Southeast Asian countries at prices that were a mere fraction of their current market values. In places like Hong Kong, Macau and China prices were much lower than in Singapore and supplies were plentiful as China was then more concerned with political and economic developments than worrying about the outflow of their huge quantities of various kinds of antiques. By allowing the sales of these antiques to other countries to satisfy international demand would earn them the urgently needed foreign exchange in so-called hard currencies, like  the American dollar and the British pound sterling, which would enable them to pay for imports which they needed for national development. It was only years later that they started to restrict the export of good quality antiques when the stocks of these finite historic legacies had run low. Consequently, international market prices for fine Chinese antiques, especially ceramics, shot up by leaps and bounds everywhere because the demand for these had far exceeded supply. Singapore was no exception.

It was four years after I started collecting Chinese ceramics that I began to notice that  a rather unique kind of colourful and gaudy ceramic ware, known as Nonya ware, mostly of the 19th to early 20th century vintages, had made their appearance in a few secondary antique shops and flea marts. They came in different varieties, sizes, shapes, forms and motifs and were decorated in blue and white, monochrome or polychrome palettes. In the bygone era, Nonya ware was highly popular with the affluent local-born Chinese families in both Malaysia and Singapore who would have them specially made in China with specifications to suit their tastes and requirements. The tea and dinner sets would be used only on auspicious occasions to reflect their prominence in society. It became a status symbol to own them. Their entire collections would be handed down to the next generation as family heirlooms. After the older generations had passed on, some unsentimental younger descendants would often sell them off cheaply to antique shops or flea marts due to economic reasons or ignorance of their market worth. Among these Nonya pieces were different types of ceramic spoons which, despite being lowly priced at the shops compared with other more popular Nonya items, had few takers except for a handful of expatriates working in Singapore. There were two main reasons for the lack of interest in these spoons. First, the serious collectors would deem it beneath contempt to have these common dining utensils in their collections. Also spoons, which are a necessity in every Chinese household, both rich and poor, for their daily meals did not appeal to lesser collectors as worthy of collecting. Consequently, most reputable antique shops and other lesser shops would not carry them in their stocks. However, these and other non Nonya spoons were sometimes available mostly at the flea marts. Influenced by the snobbish attitudes of the more experienced collectors, I too, gave these spoons a miss even though I was initially quite fascinated by  some of the finer pieces whose beauty was far from skin deep. In retrospect, I had forfeited a golden opportunity to acquire an assortment of these Nonya and other types of spoons and paid a high price for being a crowd follower instead of being guided by my own artistic inclinations.

A couple of years later, I chanced to read an interesting article in the famed Hong Kong based art magazine, Arts of Asia, about the impressive Chinese spoon collection of an American couple working in Hong Kong. They gave a vivid account of the joys and frustrations of searching, finding and buying different varieties of Chinese spoons in Hong Kong and Macao, mostly dating from the 18th to the early 20th century. The couple had accumulated several hundred pieces of  these over a number of years, with the help of a trusted antique dealer there. They were still eagerly looking out for more finds to add to their collection. These spoons had rewarded them with endless hours of enjoyment and would continue to do so for many more years to come. This article reignited my latent interest in collecting spoons, and I was resolved to buy some before their prices went up.

From then onwards, I spent many a weekend visiting a couple of art and craft shops and flea marts in my home town, which previously had spoons for sale, but I was disappointed that only a few spoons of lower quality but high prices were available. The shop owners told me that spoons were harder to come by now as more collectors, especially local ones, had begun to buy them, thus putting pressures on prices. Another reason was that, compared with other more sought after ceramic wares, spoons were still more affordable for the new spoon collectors caught by the bug of collecting. Over a period of more than a year, I succeeded in buying only twenty pieces of average quality spoons. However, my luck improved significantly when I took a week-long holiday in Penang in neighbouring Malaysia. One of the first things I did was to visit Penang Rd and Rope Walk, where there were a number of antique shops, arts and craft shops and flea marts. What a delightful and rewarding outing it turned out to be! Among the old ceramic items on display, there were many old Nonya and other spoons awaiting patronage. After spending several hours there, I was able to harvest no less than 50 pieces of above average quality spoons, more than two-third of them were Nonya pieces, at vastly lower prices than those I previously paid in Singapore flea marts. The next day, I visited more shops in other parts of the city where there were a number of established antique and arts and craft shops. Good fortune was again on my side and I made several other memorable purchases. I added another 40 pieces of spoons to my collection, not to mention my purchases of other good quality ceramic wares which I would have gladly bought at higher prices in Singapore.

As I was fully satisfied with my lucky ceramic acquisitions there, my family and I spent the rest of our holiday sightseeing and enjoying the justly famous Penang street food which, without a doubt, was and still is, the best and cheapest  in Malaysia and Singapore. Many Singaporeans go there just for the hawker food and for the equally famed pungent local durian fruit, which came fresh from its several durian orchards. After visiting many of the well-known landmarks, we  finally ended up in the historic but somewhat run-down Penang Museum, which was housed in a stately looking building. We were the only visitors there. A very friendly museum staff volunteered to guide us around and he explained to us the history and significance of the major exhibits. My interest was aroused when we came to the section on Chinese and other ceramic collections of Southeast Asian countries, and I spent sometime admiring the rare Nonya ware pieces. Among them was a set of refined Chinese spoons, which were often found in the homes of  the rich local-born Chinese families there. Sensing my obvious interest in the Nonya collection, the genial museum guide inquired if I would be interested to view a private Nonya ware collection at the home of his once-rich family friends, who had asked him to look out for potential buyers for their extensive collection. I accepted the invitation gladly. He later telephoned this family and a family member offered to fetch me from my hotel the same night to see the collection. What a bountiful evening it turned out to be. The large bungalow of colonial architectural design, though old and dilapidated, must have been grand in its heyday. There were plenty of different shapes and sizes of Nonya antiques throughout the house: in the entrance hall, in the living room, in the study and in the dining rooms. They included furniture, cupboards, gold-gilted chest of drawers, intricate wood carvings and dazzling Nonya ceramic pieces in the display cabinets and on the sideboards. There were also many porcelain vases standing at the corners of the floors. To my great delight, there were dozens of perfect condition Nonya spoons and other small pieces of porcelain bowls and plates neatly laid out on a large dinning table for my convenience of viewing. After hours of inspecting and negotiating with my friendly and hospitable host, I bought all the spoons, several other portable ceramic pieces which I could bring home in my car, as well as a number of large wood carvings and furniture items which the owner would arrange to ship to Singapore. I left the house well after 3 AM in the morning fully exhausted, and was grateful for a lift home to my seaside hotel. I made several other return trips to Penang in subsequent years. Alas, by then, there were not many Nonya ceramic pieces and spoons left in the shops and prices had escalated to a level that was approaching the prevailing Singapore prices. This was because Singapore antique dealers and collectors had bought up whatever Nonya pieces they could find in Penang when they were much cheaper than in Singapore. This had seriously depleted the finite stock available to satisfy the insatiable appetite of collectors for this particular ware. It has sentimental values to the people of Singapore and Malaysia who were prepared to pay inflated prices for them.

Besides Penang, the only other Malaysian city that has an even richer Nonya heritage is Malacca, where the Chinese traders had left their permanent footprints since the 15th century. Many had subsequently sunk their roots and set up their families there through inter-marriages with the native women. Their community was continually being augmented throughout the ensuing centuries by migrations of men and women from China, especially during the 19th and the early 20th century. The local-born offsprings of these immigrants came to be called Baba for men and Nonya for women to distinguish them from those born in China. There were, and still are, many wealthy Chinese families there and it is truly the home of Nonya ware. However, being much closer to Singapore in terms of distance compared with far away Penang, it was the most popular destination for Singapore antique dealers and collectors to descend on in search of Nonya ware at bargain prices, years before they would go to Penang after the Malacca shops had practically run dry of these ceramics. By the time I became a buyer of Nonya and other spoons, there were not many such items left in Malacca for me to buy. All in all I was only able to buy less  than ten pieces of spoons there at quite high prices. Of these, I was extremely fortunate to acquire one truly outstanding spoon from a well-known local shop simply because I was willing to pay a grossly jacked-up price as I was anxious to add it to my collection at all cost. Be that as it may, looking back more than 25 years later, I did not make such a bad decision after all for such a pedigree piece! Some distance from Malacca is the Malaysian capital, Kuala Lumpur, which is  not particularly noted for Nonya ware, but I had better luck there in securing more than thirty good pieces of Nonya and other spoons at much more competitive prices than in the home of Nonya ware itself.

As time marched on, my fascination for old Chinese ceramic spoons had become a passion. I was a familiar face in the local shops on weekends. Knowing my partiality for spoons, some shop owners would telephone me whenever they had these in their shops and I would invariably buy those that suited my taste even if I had to pay a higher price for them. Thus, slowly and steadily, my spoon collection grew and I became known as an avid spoon collector to dealers and some collector friends. One fine day, and quite unexpectedly, a collector friend of ours, who was reputed to have the largest collection of Nonya ware in Singapore and Malaysia, telephoned me and invited me to his home to see his collection. It was by far the most comprehensive and superb collection of this ware that I had ever come across. According to my host, he had inherited some of these from his parents and the rest were added to his collection through selective purchases, mainly in Malaysia, over the years when prices were low and this particular porcelain had not yet become so hotly sought after as it has since become. He had accumulated several thousand pieces, much of these were packed in boxes due to lack of display space in his spacious house. He said that he had from time to time sold some of the pieces to take advantage of the growing interest for Nonya ware and the escalated prices paid for these. He assured me that he would offer me very favourable prices for the pieces that I fancied. I told him that I was not a regular collector of Nonya ware in general, but would certainly be keen to purchase his two sets of spoons, of the rare early 19th century provenance, which were among the finest of its kind that I had seen anywhere. Sensing my  keen desire to own these, he quoted what I thought was quite a stiff price because of their rarity. I finally bought them after some haggling over the price. I have never regretted buying these rare and superb pieces and paid a high price for them. What is their estimated value today? according to an expert Nonya ware collector who had seen my spoons, he reckoned that they would be immediately snapped up by a discerning collector at no less than twelve times the price that I paid ages ago!  Like any other form of art collecting, rarity is what determines the market worth of any work of art, apart from its intrinsic artistic quality of course. Nonya ware is now quite scarce in both Malaysia and Singapore shops.

In the past decades, I had travelled to many countries, both on business and holiday. As mentioned in my postings from March to May 2008, I would take the opportunities to drop in at the antique shops and antique markets to buy ceramics and, perchance, to acquire a piece or two of spoons that attracted me. More often than not, I was not disappointed. I did quite well in London, in the South and West English counties as well as in Scotland and Ireland. Even in countries like France, Netherlands, Spain, Portugal and Germany, some Chinese spoons would come my way. The quality of the pieces in Europe and Britain was generally higher than the average pieces available in Southeast Asia. Across the Atlantic, I also have happy memories of my  spoon chasing trips in California, New York and some other states. My best buys were in San Francisco’s Chinatown and in the posh Palm Springs, at the fringe of California’s Death Valley, where the famed Hollywood star, Bob Hope, lived. In San Francisco, I was thrilled beyond words to be shown an array of Chines porcelain spoons of high quality. My excitement grew when I saw an unusual   piece with Iranian script “God is great” written on it. It is of 18th century origin, and was exported by China to the Middle East market. After several cups of fine Chinese tea, I bought all the spoons at reasonable prices. I returned to the shop in subsequent years but they had no more spoons in stock. In Palm Springs, I bought one of the finest pieces in my collection at a surprisingly cheap price. I guess the shopkeeper had hardly any knowledge of Chinese ceramics and the odd spoon was incidental to his trade. My most successful spoon buying trips were, understandably, in China, Macao and Hong Kong. I remember vividly roaming the antique markets in Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Chengdu and Kunming searching for the seemingly elusive spoons. My enthusiasm and efforts were not in vain. I came away with no less than sixty pieces of spoons that I liked, and a number of these were probably made for the imperial court officials and the rich merchants. Across the border in Macao and Hong Kong, I managed, over the years, to add more pieces to my spoon collection. The small antique shops in Hong Kong’s Hollywood Rd and its vicinity had always excited me with their spoon collections as they had regular customers looking for them. In a family run shop there, I bought a set of eight exquisitely crafted and thinly potted blue and white spoons, of 18th century provenance, which I paid a high but not excessive price for them. As if to allay my doubt of its intrinsic value, the kindly looking lady unhesitatingly gave me a written certificate of authenticity and assured me that I could at any time after one year resell them back to her at no less than ten per cent profit should I decide to do so. They are easily the best pieces in my entire spoon collection and they deservedly occupy a central place in my display cabinets.

In the course of three decades, I had left my footprints in three continents in hot pursuit of the common Chinese ceramic spoons and these experiences have greatly enriched my life. More importantly, they have given me countless hours of  delightful pleasure and will continue to do so in the years to come. When I first started collecting them there were very few spoon collectors in Singapore. Three decades later, as far as I know, the number has swelled and is still growing. After years of collecting them, I now have about 600 pieces of spoons, of various categories, colours, shapes, sizes, motifs and differing qualities. The marvel is that all have a theme or story to tell within such a tiny space. As I  have said earlier, these spoons, crafted and individually painted by human hands, have a beauty which is more than skin deep. They were produced by master craftsmen at a time when there was hardly any time pressure to meet commercial demands. It was also a labour of pride and love for them. It is a miracle that, despite their constant usage over such a prolonged period of time, these fragile dining tools have managed to survive in good condition, save for some wear and tear, to be admired and deeply valued by keen collectors of spoons everywhere. Hurray and long live the Chinese spoons!

Lam Pin Foo

Racial Harmony Through the Arts and Culture

The following article first appeared in the Singapore Chinese daily, Lianhe ZaoBao’s Bilingual Commentary Column, on 6 January 2001. Chinese translation by Lianhe ZaoBao.

As the world is moving towards the Global Village era, with freer movements of people and instant communications between countries, more of the hitherto homogeneous societies are becoming plural ones. The consequential adjustments by the natives and newcomers are often traumatic.

Viewed from both the historical and current standpoints, racism is demonstrably still one of the greatest dangers facing mankind today, and will continue to exercise the minds of rational-thinking people for a long time to come. In our own time racial conflicts, and religious bigotry, have polarised or torn apart countries and communities, and inflicted untold miseries on their people and retarding their national development.

We in Singapore are most fortunate to have racial harmony and religious freedom, thanks to the farsightedness of our ever vigilant leaders and the strict laws against anyone stirring up racial or religious animosities. This is augmented by the firm desire of the overwhelming majority of Singaporeans to keep it that way. While we enjoy an enviable reputation for good racial relations, there is, unfortunately, not much spontaneous social interaction among the races outside of the work environment, despite that more public avenues now exist for them to do so.

It is, of course, human nature everywhere for people to feel more comfortable in the company of their own kind. But for any multi-racial society with multi-culturalism to flourish, it is essential that its ethnic components must strive to understand and appreciate each other’s way of life. This would help to remove any in-built prejudices and misconceptions due to sheer ignorance, unfounded apprehensions or apathy and bring the different races closer.

In view of our colonial past and racial mix, English has been the dominant language of administration, business and education, and the vehicle of communication among the various races here. Without it, Singaporeans of different extractions will cease to communicate. The pervasive soft power of the English language is such that many Singaporeans, understandably, are more attracted to the Western culture and influences than to their own ethnic roots. Consequently, they tend to have lesser interest in the cultural heritage of their forebears and those of their fellow citizens.

In light of the factors mentioned earlier, these are formidable obstacles to promoting greater social interaction among Singaporeans. Unfamiliarity and lack of genuine interest in each other’s culture and way of life are, in my view, two major impediments that need to be overcome. As a positive first step, we should begin to take a more active interest in the arts and culture of the other racial groups. Knowing rudiments of each other’s language and traditions would certainly make this a more meaningful and pleasurable experience. But it is a difficult task, especially for the older Singaporeans.

The answer probably lies with the younger people. Parents and our educational institutions have a vital role to play in inculcating the right attitudes in our young during their formative years. With concerted and sustained efforts by all concerned Singaporeans, racial harmony should attain a new dimension when the next generation of citizens take their rightful place in society.

Lam Pin Foo
18.9.2009

通过艺术和文化增进种族和谐

环球化的趋势,使到人们能够在世界各地更自由流动,国与国之间的沟通也更为迅速和直接。越来越多的单一种族社会逐渐变得多元化。

土生土长的人们和外来人口之间,所需要作出的相互调整和适应,往往是令人感到非常不愉快的经验。

不论是从历史或现代的眼光来看,种族主义仍然是人类面对的最大危险之一。有识之士需要时刻保持警惕。

在我们这个时代,种族冲突和宗教偏见,在很多地方使国家和族群对立或分裂。不仅人民饱受其害,国家发展也因此停滞不前。

在新加坡,我们很幸运的能够享有种族和谐和宗教自由。这得感谢我们高瞻远瞩的领袖,以及对付企图挑起种族或宗教敌意人士的严刑峻法。此外,国人都强烈的希望保持现有的情况。

虽然我们拥有令人羡慕的种族和睦关系,可惜,除了在工作地点以外,不同族群的人,较少在公共场所自然交往。

当然,和来自同一族群的人在一起,总会让人感到比较轻松自在。但是,如果要我们的多元种族社会,进一步发扬光大,个别族群就有必要学习了解和欣赏彼此的生活方式。

这可以帮助消除因为无知、毫无根据的疑惧或者冷漠,所造成的偏见和误解,进一步缩短各族的距离。

因为我们的殖民地背景和多元种族社会,英语长期以来都是官方、经商和教育的主要语言,也是各族赖以沟通的语言。如果没有了英语,来自不同族群的人,将难以交谈。

英语和它所带来的影响,使人们更容易被西方文化吸引,而忽略了自己的根,这是可以理解的。因此,他们一般上对先人的文化遗产不感兴趣。

这样看来,要促使新加坡人多多沟通,须要克服许多困难。我认为,对它族文化和生活方式感到陌生和缺乏了解的兴趣,是两大障碍。

我们可以开始做的,是培养对它族艺术和文化的兴趣。如果我们对它族的语言和传统,有一些基本的认识,这肯定会是一个很有意义和愉快的经验。但是,知易行难,对老一辈的新加坡人来说,更是如此。

不过,我们可以把希望寄托在年轻一代的新加坡人身上。在年轻人的成长过程中,家长和教育机构在灌输他们正确的态度上,扮演着关键性的角色。

只要我们同心协力和持之以恒,种族和谐的关系必定能在将来更上一层楼。

蓝秉湖
(作者是一名退休律师·叶琦保译)

The Tranquility and Poetic Charm of Chinese Paintings

I have always enjoyed gazing at traditional Chinese landscape paintings as their tranquil impact soothes my mind and body, especially after a hectic work day. They would bring me into a seemingly surreal world of majestic mountain peaks shrouded in cloud or mist, surrounded by lush greenery, gently flowing streams and rustic bridges, with occasional contemplative scholars in their isolated thatched huts savouring the beauty of mother nature or a lonely but content fisherman patiently fishing in a placid lake without any worldly cares. In my becalmed state of mind, I would spontaneously recall the perfect summation of the essence and charm of the Chinese landscape painting. There is poetry in the painting and painting in the poetry, to quote the memorable words of the celebrated Song Dynasty poet So Dongpo.

I first became interested in collecting Chinese brush paintings in the 1980s through the infectious influence of a small group of friends who were established collectors of well-known works by Mainland Chinese artists. Having already earlier been initiated into the palpable excitement of purchasing other art works, it was not difficult for my wife and I to be appreciative of Chinese paintings. These friends invited us to their homes to meet other collectors in their art appreciation evenings , which they would take turns to host. Under their tutelage, I began to learn about the various schools of Chinese paintings, with differing styles, characteristics and approaches in interpreting the salient points of Chinese paintings, be it on landscapes, flower and birds, human figures, and other subject matters. When our interest reached a level when we were ready to acquire our first pieces, these thoughtful friends would introduce us to a couple of reputable art dealers in town in order to ensure that we would be off to a smooth and good start in our new interest.

At that time, more Singaporeans were smitten by the collecting bug than ever before, and especially popular were the collecting of Chinese paintings. The local art galleries were well-stocked with works by Mainland artists of considerable repute and their prices, in comparison with their market value today, were affordable to many Singaporean professionals, business executives and successful businessmen and women. For example, a thousand dollars or two could easily buy you works of China’s leading contemporary artists. Among the keenest were the English-educated elites, some of whom could not even read or write Chinese. Despite such obvious handicap, several of our personal friends had, over the years, built up creditable collections through knowledge learned from art publications in English, with the initial help of fellow collectors, dealers and, principally, through their own artistic tastes and judgments.

I have always held the view that the monetary value of a nation’s art works, apart from their artistic merits, is also influenced by domestic and international demand as well as by its economic and political clout on the world scene. Japan is a very good example. Following its defeat in WWII in 1945, its art pieces could be had cheaply as the country was devastated and impoverished. Consequently, many of their best specimen were eagerly sought overseas and left its shores. Prices for Japanese art pieces began to escalate relentlessly when Japan became rich from the ’70s onwards due to increasing demand from their own individual and corporate collectors, in addition to international competition for the most desirable works. With the rapid rise of China as an economic and political power since the mid 1990s, the value of Chinese works of art too have risen by leaps and bounds for the same reasons as the Japanese case. Nowadays, well-off Chinese collectors would especially seek out the rarest of their country’s art works at international auctions by paying high prices, often out of patriotic sentiments, especially for articles that were removed form China unfairly by foreigners in the distant past, in order to ensure that these would remain where they really belong. These works, including Chinese paintings, would now fetch millions of US dollars a piece. However, compared with the most expensive Western oil paintings, their prices are still a long way below them. So, art experts confidently predict that the works of renowned Chinese artists will continue to move forward until the gap between them and the Western paintings has been substantially narrowed. This, inevitably, must happen if China continues its current economic expansion at a high rate.

Be that as it may, one daunting obstacle confronting collectors of Chinese paintings is that the faking of works of leading artists, both past and living, is widespread as it is very lucrative. In a seemingly perverse way, that is what makes buying them so exciting and challenging. Not infrequently, it is a battle of wits and knowledge between the collector and the unethical dealer, the outcome of which would invariably favour the latter if the collector is inexperienced and naive. Occasionally, some fakes are so skillfully created that they could even fool almost anyone, including the experts in the field. There have been many cases of dispute between reputable auction houses and the buyers and most have been settled between the parties privately without litigation. However, a celebrated case regarding a significant work by artist Zhang Daqian, often dubbed the “Chinese Picasso”, ended up in the Chinese Supreme Court and the parties involved was a leading Chinese auction house and a prominent Chinese corporation seeking refund of the massive price they paid on the ground that the painting was a fake. Unfortunately, I am unable to obtain its decision thereon as the case might have been ultimately settled out of court and the terms of settlement were not made public.

Almost all contemporary fake Chinese paintings emanate from Hong Kong, Macao and, increasingly since the ’90s, from the Mainland China itself. The rise in fakes of famous Chinese painters is due mainly to the current Chinese and worldwide demand for fine Chinese paintings. This has led to very substantial increases in their market values as such works, especially those of artists no longer living, are finite and their demand would have already outstripped their availability in the market place. To make the supply situation more acute, many of the works by China’s most notable painters are now in foreign museums and firmly held by them. Already, Chinese fine art dealers and auction houses have been scouring Southeast Asia, including Singapore, as well as other countries with sizable collectors of Chinese paintings with a view to persuading them to re-sell their pieces to them at attractive prices or to induce them to auction these in China and cash in on their profits. I know as a fact that quite a few Singaporean collectors had found it worthwhile to take handsome profits from their past purchases.

If some fakes are of high quality, why won’t the fakers proclaim their creative talents openly by proudly selling their original works instead? In my view, the collectors are partly to blame because most would go for big names only, often for prestige or investment purposes. Sadly, when tastes in collecting are invariably dictated by snobbery or monetary considerations, a painting’s intrinsic quality tends to become grossly distorted so that one might fetch a king’s ransom in the market place, while another by an unknown but promising artist could not even secure a buyer at low prices. Consequently, some talented but frustrated artists would be compelled to live in the shadows of the masters by passing off their works in order to survive economically in this harshly competitive profession.

In the ’80s Singapore was a rich “fishing ground” for Hong Kong’s fly-by-night art peddlers who would hold regular art exhibitions cum sales here with a seemingly impressive array of works attributed to luminary Chinese artists including Qi Baishi, Zhang Daqian, Huang Binhong, Fu Baoshi, Wang Yi-Ting, Zheng Shifa, to name just a few, at prices that were very much lower than their going rates for the genuine pieces at the reputable art galleries here and elsewhere. Virtually all were outright fakes of these venerable art masters, which a discerning collector would be able to tell without any difficulties. Also, the low price tags for these inferior works should have been an obvious tell-tale sign to an average collector with some knowledge of the Chinese art market. The cheap prices were the bait set by these unscrupulous art vendors who exploited the inexperienced collectors’ vanity and weakness to secure bargains at bargain basement prices and then boast about their achievements to others. Many succumbed to the bait, hook, line and sinker. Indeed, the adage: “A little learning is dangerous” and the commercial caveat: “Buyer beware!” are timely reminders for those who intend to take up this esoteric pursuit that knowledge and judgment in this field cannot be built up quickly, except through learning and experience.

When some of these hapless victims subsequently found out that they had been taken for a ride by these “black sheep” art merchants, they tried to locate them in Hong Kong to seek refunds, but were shocked to find out that their respectable business addresses printed on their business cards were fictitious ones and they could not be traced. At the other end of this episode, other unsuspecting victims might still be basking in the glory of their “exceptional finds” and are elated over their good fortunes and sound artistic judgments!

Are there no safeguards or legal protections against such blatantly dishonest art dealers to allow them to get away with their misdeeds with impunity? The best safeguard, in my view, is to buy art works from only reputable dealers. You will find them in Singapore and elsewhere too. This is because reputations take a long time to establish, and no reliable dealers would be foolish enough to place their hard-earned reputation in jeopardy by betraying the customer’s trust and goodwill with one dishonest act of selling a fake work as a genuine article. Also, it is always prudent to insist on a certificate of authenticity of the piece purchased as a further safeguard. As to legal protections, this would differ from country to country. As far as I know, in Singapore, one can sue a fraudulent dealer for misrepresentations under the Sale of Goods Act. However, do be forewarned that litigation is a costly, traumatic and long drawn our affair and the outcome is not always predictable. It should only be resorted to when other modes of resolving the matter have been exhausted.

Luckily, we were spared such painful learning experiences because we were ever mindful of the dangers of buying Chinese paintings from unproven sources and had heeded the sound advice from our more experienced collector friends. Above all, we must thank the late Mr Sze, Manager of the Chung Hwa Art Gallery, who had taught us the art of buying good Chinese paintings, based on his expertise and experiences in this field. He was one of the most knowledgeable and respected art dealers in Singapore and was always most helpful to collectors. He passed away many years ago. I can still recall vividly and fondly the many a most pleasant Saturday afternoon spent at his gallery in South Bridge Road admiring his impressive array of paintings of both renowned and up-and-coming Chinese artists, which he personally sourced from China, and listening to his masterful commentary on their merits and also certain weak points, and therefore the price disparity, in order to guide us in our selections to suit our budgets. He never rushed us to make up our minds and would instead advise us to take home the pieces that we liked to see if we could live with them over time before making up our minds whether or not to purchase them.

Over the years, we had bought a number of paintings from Mr Sze and they included works by Lu Yanshao, Li Kuzhan, Chen Dayu, Tang Yun, Song Yinke, Wang Xuetao, Zheng Shifa and Xuxi, among others. Through his introduction, we also acquired a couple of paintings by Huang Zhou and Ya Ming form Zhi Kuzha Gallery of Hong Kong. Mr Sze and the proprietor of this shop were good friends and had jointly held art exhibitions in Singapore and Hong Kong. In our first trip to China during the “80s, I sought Mr Sze’s guidance on buying paintings there. He very kindly and unselfishly advised me that the most reliable shop to buy them would be the 300-year old Rong Baozhai, the most famous and venerable art dealers in Beijing, and asked me to mention his name to a Mr Zhang there. We went to this famed art shop and was given every assistance by Mr Zhang, who most professionally and patiently showed us more than a dozen of paintings by some of China’s leading artists in a private room usually reserved for important customers because of his firm friendship with Mr Sze. With his help and recommendations, I purchased two paintings that both my wife and I liked very much, one by Zhu Qizhan and the other by Lu Yanshao, with a special discount.

I met one of China’s top artists, Guan Shanyue, a leading light of the Linnan School of painting, through the then Director of Singapore’s National Museum, Mr Lee Wai Kok, when he was invited to stage a solo exhibition at his museum. At my invitation, Mr Guan and his wife, accompanied by Mr Lee, came to our house for dinner. I took the opportunity to invite several of my fellow collector friends, most of whom own Guan’s paintings and that of other Lingnan School artists, to meet Mr Guan and to show him their pieces. Mr Guan was thrilled to see a rare painting by his teacher, Gao Chienfu, a founder of Lingnan style of painting, and spontaneously suggested that he and my friend pose for a picture together, with the masterpiece between them. However, his jovial mood suddenly turned sombre when a work of his, his special gift to a very good friend overseas, came into the collection of one of my other guests. The master artist was most disappointed that his friend would part with it for money as the painting was sentimental to him.

While in Singapore, Mr Guan was asked by many Singaporean collectors to authenticate his his own works in their collections, some of which turned out to be fakes. In this delicate situation, he would be diplomatic but witty at the same time to make light of their oversights. “I have painted numerous paintings over the decades, but I don’t seem to remember having done this particular one. In any case, this artist can probably do a better job than I can!”, joked the famed artist.

Collecting Chinese paintings, and other art works, have made life more pleasant and meaningful for my wife and I and they will continue to give us endless hours of enjoyment. Also, they certainly look more attractive than stock and share certificates!

Lam Pin Foo
1.7.08

Singapore Artists Need Your Support to Scale New Heights

My interest in art began only after my marriage in the early 1960s, through the gentle influence of my wife who has always shown a discerning taste in both visual and performing arts, as well as in the beautiful creations of mother nature. This has had a beneficial impact on me and gradually increased my interest in the arts.

In school, art was my weakest subject, and I dreaded and hated it because of my lack of visible progress compared with many of my classmates. I secretly admired and envied those who with a few strokes of the pencil or brush could comfortably compose an impressive image or object and I had often wishfully hoped that their artistic skills could somehow rub off on me! Ironically, more than five decades later, during which time my crop of thick and black hair has long turned grey and thin, art appreciation is now an essential part of my life, without which it would certainly be robbed of its richness. If any of my old school chums should chance to read this article I dare say that they would be tickled pink, because the very thought of my becoming a collector of paintings must seem to them as remote a possibility as the launching of a ship without a bottom.

My path to art collecting started only after we had moved into our own new house in the late ’60s. With our basic needs taken care of, we believed that a couple of good quality paintings would certainly enhance the ambiance of our new home, besides giving us endless enjoyment. We visited art galleries, attended art exhibitions and read art books in order to have a better grasp of the local art scene. Through the introductions of our arty friends, we also visited several artists’ studios in order to gain a first-hand insight into their creative genius.

My wife and I agreed that, with our limited financial resources, we should, as a start, concentrate wholly on the works of local artists on grounds that they were more affordable compared with foreign artists and more “intimate” to us. Also, they would need all the support they could get in order to stay active and to scale new heights. With my earlier impetuous experiences and lack of sound artistic judgment when making my first purchases of antique Chinese ceramics still fresh in our minds, we were in no hurry to strike our first acquisitions of paintings until the pieces that we both really liked came along so that we would not regret buying them later.

In the ’60s and part of the ’70s, Singapore’s art scene was still in its early stages of development as not many Singaporeans could either afford or had the inclinations to spend their disposable income on purchasing paintings or other art works which most would consider luxuries they could well do without. The Government was then more concerned with the country’s economic survival and job creation after achieving full independence under very difficult circumstances, and supporting the arts meaningfully was, understandably, not on its priority list. Against this background, it was not easy, to put it very mildly, for full-time or active artists to make a decent living in pursuit of their chosen profession. To me, an active artist is one who paints regularly, whose works are on sale at galleries and who participates in art exhibitions at least once a year. It is therefore not surprising that there were only a very small number of full-time or active artists here during these two decades. Even the most well-known and accomplished of them all had to have a full-time job, mostly as art teachers, and carried out their painting activities, including getting their works ready for an art exhibition, outside the normal work hours. Despite earning a modest income, they would not give up the life of an artist for other more lucrative jobs because of their passion for the art.

Fortunately for these core practising artists and the development of art in Singapore, there was a small band of individual art lovers and corporate art supporters who would regularly purchase their works in order to help them stay afloat and to forge ahead. They included successful entrepreneurs, like Loke Wan Tho, Tan Tsze Chor and Yeo Khee Lin, professional people, business executives and academics, large corporations, including banks, oil companies and multinational firms, as well as the expatriate and diplomatic communities. Without their continuing patronage, the growth of the Singapore art would have been seriously curtailed. Art is indeed a calling that many creative young men and women may believe it to be a fascinating and intellectually satisfying career as it would free them from the mundane office routines. In reality, however, it is very demanding and only the most dedicated and talented among them can succeed with resultant financial rewards and fame. This is true of artists in all countries, including the developed ones, and particularly more so in the developing countries like Singapore during that era.

Despite the seemingly insurmountable obstacles facing full-time artists in Singapore, a promising young SIngaporean artist by the name of Thomas Yeo, who had earlier graduated from a London art college and who had gained some working experience in the United Kingdom as an art teacher and had participated in art exhibitions there and elsewhere, was planning to return to his native Singapore bent on earning his living as a full-time artist right away. When he confided his intentions to his former London college lecturer, the latter strongly urged him to desist from such an ill-conceived adventure. He then advised him to take a full-time job first, like teaching art, and pursue his own artistic creations in his spare time. This was what the overwhelming majority of art graduates in the United Kingdom would embark upon after graduation in order to survive economically before attempting to become a whole time artist later. He reminded Yeo that there were some 100,000 artists in the UK longing to become full-time ones, but, in reality, only a handful of the most outstanding among them would eventually make this viable. Such was the stark facts of life for artists anywhere then and even now. Yeo, while mindful of the sound advice of his former teacher, nevertheless decided to fulfill his ambition of practising art professionally from the beginning despite the odds against him succeeding were formidable.

Upon his return to Singapore in 1968, Yeo took the plunge immediately. Before the year ended, he was already staging a solo exhibition at the National Library Exhibition Hall, a popular and one of the few art exhibition venues then available here. More subsequent solo exhibitions followed in the ensuing years. His one-man shows were well-received by the art-loving Singapore public and my wife and I were among those who were captivated by his dream-like and lyrical landscape paintings, with their pleasing and vaguely familiar pastoral scenes, enhanced by effective and harmonising mix of vibrant but soothing colours, which were refreshingly aesthetic to the eyes and other senses. In short, Yeo had created quite a unique style which was instantly recognisable and difficult for lesser artists to emulate it convincingly. From landscape paintings, Yeo later simultaneously specialised in abstract collages, also with considerable success. He was a prolific artist and had held numerous solo and group exhibitions at regular intervals from the late ’60s to the present day in different parts of the world, both within and beyond the shores of Asia. He became one of the leading Singaporean artists when the ’70s ended. His works are in many private and public collections around the world. By 1984, only 16 years after he first set himself up as a professional artist, he was awarded the Cultural Medallion by the Singapore Government, the state’s highest arts accolade for artists and other arts practitioners. Yeo, now 72, is as active as ever in the pursuit of his beloved esoteric calling. Like all accomplished artists, he modestly believes that his best works will eventually emerge with time.

The Singapore art scene became more vibrant from the ’80s onwards and this has continued unabated until the present time, following the great leap forward of its expanding economy which has propelled this tiny island Republic into a First World country, with a per capital GDP that has now surpassed many other developed nations. As Singaporeans are now better educated, more affluent and more attuned to art and its sublime beauty, more art galleries , art museums, professional artists and art patrons have risen significantly. From only a handful of professional artists in the earlier decades, the number of practising artists, both full-time and active, are reckoned to have been increased to about 100 today. The most successful among them are now earning a comfortable income, own cars and properties and regularly travel overseas both for work or pleasure. Several have become household names too, and highly respected by their peers and the community.

Over the years, we have enjoyed purchasing a number of paintings by both the established and the promising artists in different media. These have withstood the test of time because their aesthetic charm and appeal are far from skin deep and they have and will continue to add value to our life. I would like to single out the following artists for special mention, as they have become our personal friends. One of our earliest acquisitions was an unusual oil painting by Choo Keng Kwang. When we showed interest in two of his works, he patiently and painstakingly enlightened us on the finer points and the subtle differences between the two paintings. We finally picked Riverside (dated 1972), a semi-abstract piece, as we were impressed by its harmony of colour and lyrical feel. Choo’s paintings command high prices today and are keenly collected both locally and abroad.

The late Chen Wen Hsi was already widely-known for his Chinese brush and finger paintings when he opened his own art gallery in the early ’70s. We became one of his instant admirers and could be seen at his gallery regularly at weekends. Our eldest son later joined his art class held at his home. He invited us to see his “private zoo”, with its gibbons, squirrels and a variety of birds. He would observe their movements and moods closely in order to enhance his creations. He is justifiably renowned for his depictions of gibbons and squirrels. We purchased quite a number of his works over more than a decade. We received these from his own hands and with his personal recommendations or endorsement. He was conferred an honourary Doctorate degree by the National University of Singapore in recognition of his contributions to art in Singapore, among other national honours.

Cheong Soo Pieng is unquestionably one of the most versatile and accomplished artists that Singapore has ever produced. He is equally adept in both Chinese and Western art forms. Among his most ardent supporters was movie tycoon and art connoisseur, Loke Wan Tho, whose untimely death in 1965 had robbed Singapore of one of its most illustrious art patrons. We managed to acquire two of Cheong’s works: Bathing by the Riverside (1961) in Chinese ink and colour and Sarawak River (1962) in acrylic. He advised us to buy one of his important oil paintings but, to our lingering regret, we did not do so as it was well beyond our budget. Sadly, Cheong passed away in the prime of his career in the 1980s and was a great loss to the art in Singapore.

We chanced upon a charming water colour painting by a medical doctor cum artist, Earl Lu, at a charity painting exhibition. We were fascinated by the blue roses in this painting as we had never seen one of our favourite flowers being captured in this hue before. His paintings sold very well at that exhibition as they were good and very reasonably priced and there were only a couple of them left. We bought it. Years later we got to know Dr Lu quite well as we were both active members of the Southeast Asian Ceramic Society. His wife ran an antique shop at the Tanglin Shopping Centre in the “70s and I had purchased a number of Chinese ceramic pieces from her. I later found out from Earl that these pieces came from his own large collection of Chinese and Southeast Asian ceramics. He donated a substantial part of his collections to local museums. He died a few years ago and was mourned by his many friends here and abroad.

I became acquainted with Thomas Yeo in the ’80s in the course of work. I was a member of an art advisory committee of which he was the chairman. My wife and I later established a firm friendship with him and his charming wife, Margaret, that has continued to the present time. As we got on well, Thomas invited us to his apartment to view his latest works. A master abstractionist, he is famed for his landscape paintings and collages, and have successfully created an inimitable style all his own. Needless to say, we were completely bowled over by his innovative and masterful works. With his expert help, and over cups of aromatic coffee and snacks made by his wife, we were delighted to become the proud owners of two of his catalogued works, a landscape painting dated 1987 and a collage done the following year.

Among the several younger talented artists, we took a liking to Christine Mak’s works. Her specialties are Chinese brush paintings and those done in Western mixed media. She studied under the late Chao Shao-An, a leading exponent of China’s Lingnan School of painting. Her works have gained popularity with both individual and corporate collectors. We have two of her works: Lotus Joy (1991) and Countryside (1994), both Chinese brush paintings. Her style is elegant and subtly conveys a gentle flow of tranquility and poetic charm.

As Singaporeans are now well-educated and very well-off, they will increasingly turn to art collecting as a means to upgrade their quality of life. The economic value and prestige of the Singapore art pieces will likewise be uplifted with time, if the experiences of the other developed countries are anything to go by. For those of you who are blessed with discerning eyes, and with financial resources to match, this is a good time to pick up works by local artists of your choice as they are still relatively affordable. If you make the right selections, they will give you continuous enjoyment like those now adorning our home have given us all these years.

Happy art hunting!
Lam Pin Foo
3.6.08

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