Lam Pin Foo

China had been exporting large quantities of trade porcelain to the Nanyang (Southeast Asia), particularly to Indonesia and Philippines, from the Song Dynasty (960-1279) onwards, in exchange for spices, bird nests, cinnamon, rare hard woods and other exotic produces of this region. It became a status symbol immediately and changed the way of life of the privileged and rich in these countries drastically. Much of these ancient relics have survived the vicissitudes of time because of the natives’ customary and delightful practice of burying these precious objects with the dead for use in their next life!

These artifacts first saw the light of day again when Nanyang farmers dug them up accidentally when tilling their lands, or in the course of construction works. Once their economic value became obvious, many farmers and fishermen quickly abandoned their traditional livelihoods and turned to the potentially more lucrative, but clandestine, grave-digging activities in order to assuage the insatiable demands of collectors and as a quick route to wealth. Unfortunately for posterity, such indiscriminate and unscientific excavations had damaged, or even destroyed, a great deal of archaeological finds and irreplaceable evidence which would have been of immense benefit to historians and other scholastic researchers.

During the 1960s and 1970s, a significant amount of these Chinese export porcelains were brought over to Singapore by Indonesian antique dealers, in wicker bags filled to the brim, for sale to both local and expatriate collectors. These included bowls, plates, dishes, vases, jars, covered boxes, figurines and other articles in various shapes and colours, such as the blue and white, celadon, polychrome, monochrome and other wares, spanning more than a thousand years of Chinese history. Almost all of these pieces came from the provincial kilns in Guangdong and Fujian in southern China. Compared to the refined ceramic wares manufactured exclusively for the more sophisticated Chinese domestic market, these export porcelains were coarser in quality and less well potted but nevertheless have a charm of their own, often decorated with deft brush strokes and whimsically-executed motifs. They were found in abundance throughout Indonesia, from Sulawesi to Bali to Sumatra to Java and to the Riau Archipelago, which is only a short sea distance from Singapore.

As far as I know, although large amounts of these trade porcelains were also found in the Philippines, hardly any of its antique dealers came to Singapore to sell their pots, possibly because there was sufficient domestic demand for these wares in their own country. These Chinese relics could be bought in Singapore from these travelling Indonesian antique sellers for as low as $40 for a 16th century Ming bowl, $200 for a small 14th century Yuan plate and $300 would make you the proud owner of a 12th century Song dragon-motif jarlet! Although they were made as utilitarian objects, and not as works of art, they appealed to both Singaporean and expatriate residents as they were very cheap compared to similar wares made for the home market. Also, not many of these refined Chinese pieces were readily obtainable in the Singapore shops and one had to buy them in the upmarket Hong Kong antique shops or from reputable international auction houses overseas at prices which would put them beyond the reach of the average collector anywhere. Over the years, these Chinese export wares have been enthusiastically sought by collectors and museums in different parts of the world to fill a gap in their collections.

The modus operandi of these Indonesian dealers was that they would fly to Singapore and stay at one of the cheap hotels along Bencoolen Street and carried out their business activities there. They would telephone individual collectors and invite them to view the pieces in their hotel rooms. They preferred to sell directly to collectors, rather than to antique shops, because of higher profit margins. Unsold articles would later be offered to a single antique shop on a package deal at a huge discount.

I was introduced to several of these Indonesian vendors and spent many a delightful lunch hour and evening inspecting their goods, which were spread out on the bed, and haggling with them over cups of black coffee. Rarely did I leave empty-handed or disappointed. Initially, a novice collector would, most probably, be taken advantage of in terms of price, quality or condition of the articles. There was a tendency for him or her to fall for the so-called “bargain pieces”, which the more experienced collectors would avoid like a plaque. These were usually the defective pots with some chips or cracks, or those that had been skilfully-repaired or re-decorated, which the dealers would palm off to unsuspecting beginner collectors. Thanks to an expert collector who was my mentor, I learned that, when in doubt, one should not hesitate to ask the vendor to allow one to immerse the chosen piece in boiling water as no repaired works are likely to withstand such intense heat. I put this advice to test on a couple of occasions and immediately brought out the more honest side of the dealer’s character!

Be that as it may, once mutual trust and confidence was firmly established between the seller and the buyer, such “teething problems” should not recur. I had many memorable buys from some of them, which are now worth substantially more than what I had paid, not to mention that I had also gained much useful practical knowledge from them which cannot possibly be gleaned from books.

I would like to share an amusing incident with the readers. On one of my lunchtime forays to a Bencoolen hotel to buy antiques, I ran into an old school friend just outside the hotel. He greeted me warmly and, with a twinkle in his eyes, sincerely assured me that the secret of my hotel assignation would be safe with him. He was, however, surprised that I would conduct my extra-marital escapades even in broad daylight! When I told him that I made regular visits to the hotel in order to buy antiques from Indonesian dealers whenever they were in town, he was somewhat offended that I could invent such a bizarre story and would expect him to fall for it hook, line and sinker. Even today, I am convinced that he had never accepted my version of what actually happened that day. I do hope that he would be reading this article and be convinced of my truthfulness in our mutually awkward encounter.

All good things must come to an end some time or other. These Indonesian dealers abruptly stopped coming to Singapore from the 1980s onwards. By then, the finite quantities of Chinese trade ceramics found in their country had been substantially depleted, coupled with the fact that the demand for them in the domestic market had already out-stripped supply, as more and more local and overseas collectors would pay vastly-enhanced prices for the articles they liked.

Today, I reckon there are at least several hundred collectors of Chinese export porcelains in Singapore and with many more elsewhere. Some of them were, or are still, members of the cosmopolitan Southeast Asian Ceramic Society in Singapore, of which I am a long-standing member, whose main objective is to generate greater awareness and interest in the antique ceramics of China and that of the ASEAN region.

Lam Pin Foo
2.4.08

Every time I look at my Chinese ceramic collection, I can’t help casting my mind back to the palpably exciting and fruitful times I had in England, some 30 years ago, feverishly Chinese antiques-hunting not only in London but also in the provinces! England is indisputably the world’s most antiques-loving nation. They collect practically all forms of art, both East and West. A profusion of antiques shops and markets are spread all over their cities and towns in order to cater to the collector’s varied and insatiable needs and tastes.

More than 400 years of empire-building and wealth accumulation have produced a sophisticated body of art connoisseurs and numerous internationally-renowned museums and art galleries whose rich and superb contents were culled from the world over through both legitimate and questionable means.

England, in the 1970s and earlier, was truly a paradise for collectors of antique Chinese ceramics. London’s reputable antique shops were well-stocked with choice collector pieces of considerable variety and quality to cater to a worldwide clientele.

These Chinese artifacts fall under 3 main categories. Millions were exported by China to Europe between the 17th and 19th centuries to meet a growing demand from their nobility and landed-gentry. In addition, a further large quantity of these was also brought back to England by its senior colonial civil servants and merchants upon their departure from China to adorn their country estates as status symbols. Others were the stocks-in-trade of antiques dealers who had regularly purchased them from China and Hong Kong at extremely low prices before demand outstripped supply in the past several decades.

Fortunately, my wife and I had opportunities to visit England, both on business or holiday, during the 1970s. When we were first exposed to these Chinese pieces, we were amazed at their quantities, quality and affordable prices compared with the much higher prices prevailing in Singapore, Bangkok or Hong Kong. As an added bonus to collectors, there were hardly any fakes in the market place. It was therefore safe even for the beginner collector to take the plunge, as it were, as the law and the antiques dealers’ associations there strictly and scrupulously safeguarded the buyer’s interests and their own reputations or face legal consequences.

I recall vividly that a typical day’s antiques buying, especially in London’s popular and colourful flea-marts, such as Portobello Market, Camdon Passage and Cheapside Market, would easily yield us 6 to 8 pieces of reasonably good quality Chinese ceramics, ranging from the blue-and-white, the polychrome, the monochrome to a variety of other wares. For an experienced collector blessed with sharp eyes and intimate knowledge of comparative prices in different countries, there were bargains galore at prices that were enormously below that obtaining in Singapore or elsewhere.

Outside London, especially in Devon and Cornwall, prices were even cheaper. For example, fine quality antique Chinese cups, bowls, plates, vases and figurines, mostly of the 18th and 19th century periods, could be had for a modest sum of between S$30-$300. These English dealers would scour the length and breadth of the country regularly, looking for cheap sources of supply. Not infrequently, the less sentimental younger members of the deceased’s family would part with their Chinese family heirlooms for a song, following the death of their parents, due to either a complete lack of interest in them or sheer ignorance of their intrinsic value.

If the dealers bought them cheaply, they would be quite satisfied with a lower profit margin in order to secure a faster business turnover and the cash flow needed for fresh business opportunities. Most of them, except those specialising in Oriental antiquities in London or other affluent provincial places , had hardly any knowledge of Chinese antiques which were incidental to their trade.

One can, of course, bargain with them, usually up to 10% of the asking price. However, practised collectors could sometimes cut the price down by a further 10% if they were persuasive or persistent enough! The English dealers often showed warmth and friendliness to the Chinese-looking customers because of the great purchasing power and expertise of the Hong Kong and Taiwanese buyers. On numerous occasions, I was asked whether a particular article was “an antique, or made yesterday in China or Taiwan” when the ware in question was unmistakably old for all to see!

Among these dealers, especially those in South England, were may erstwhile senior colonial civil servants, business houses executives and gazetted armed forces personnel, and quite a few of them were former residents of Singapore. It was a strange feeling watching them manning their portable stalls at antiques fairs and reminiscing to us about their glorious times in good old Singapore, with domestic help and chauffeurs to pamper their every need! Some became itinerant antiques dealers not for lack of financial resources but to to keep themselves active and to spend their time doing something they enjoyed doing. I admire their spirit.

We have many fond memories of our antiques-fishing sprees in England. In fact, more than half of our collection was formed through purchases there over a decade. It was the high point of our collecting career, the likes of which can never be duplicated elsewhere. This was self-evident from our subsequent visits to England in the mid 1980s and 1990s. By then, prices of Chinese ceramics were already approaching the Singapore level, as much of the old stock, accumulated over the centuries, had been almost depleted. This meant higher replacement costs and selling prices.

All collectors love exceptional bargains and rare finds, ourselves included. In an earlier article posted in my blog last February, I wrote about our painful experiences as novice collectors. I would now redeem my “bruised ego”and regale you with our more edifying adventures in England. I once acquired an exquisite Kangxi blue-and-white meiping vase (1662-1722) of no mean value from a London antiques market for the cost of a set lunch for two at an average Chinese restaurant in Singapore. It still commands a pride of place in our collection. On another occasion, my wife picked up a beautiful hexagonal Kangxi wine cup at a church fair in Cambridge, which cost less than two Big Macs at McDonald’s! It now sits prominently in our display cabinet.

One of our greatest finds is a refined 25 cm 18th century polychrome vase, which we came upon unexpectedly in a delightful ancient town in West England. The dealer, who specialised in old English antique furniture, bought the entire household furniture from a country house in a trustee’s sale and the vase was thrown in for good measure! He was anxious to sell it to us and offered a price which we couldn’t resist.

Why do people collect antiques? In a nutshell, the ecstasies and frustrations are what make it such a fascinating and absorbing pursuit. Once truly initiated into it, one’s life will never be the same again.

Lam Pin Foo
18.3.08

For the first 30 years of my life, art did not interest me at all. During my school days in my native Singapore and in my youth, I had set foot in the local museum only once as a family outing. To this day, the only exhibit there that I can still recall vividly was the massive skeleton of a whale, which was hung prominently in the main gallery of the museum! This museum has since been transformed into a fine history museum, minus the ubiquitous whale skeleton of course.

Even in art-rich and metropolitan London, where I resided for four years studying to be a lawyer, I steadfastly stayed away from its world-renowned museums and national art galleries until shortly before leaving London for home after my graduation. When a close English friend found out that I had not even visited the British Museum, which was near my lodging, he was aghast and thought me uncultured! He then firmly advised me to go there and to also to visit the National Gallery, the Victoria and Albert Museum and the Tate Gallery in order to widen my intellectual horizons, or I might live to regret it. After some hesitation, I decided to heed his sound advice. These visits did enlighten me and opened up my mind to the sublime beauty of art and the ancient artifacts. After having been initiated into art collecting for the past four decades, I now look back to this long learning process with mixed emotions of ecstasies and frustrations. Certainly, there were moments of triumphs and self congratulations but, more often than not, I was truly appalled at my own initial lack of good taste or for allowing rare buying opportunities to pass me by when they came my way.

My nascent collecting career started when we moved into our new house. Like all proud first time property owners, my wife and I agreed that a couple of art objects would definitely add a touch of elegance and refinement to the ambiance of our new home. We began to plough into art books, visit museums, art galleries and antique shops at weekends, so as to gain some insight into the esoteric world of art collecting. We were fascinated by antique Chinese ceramics and contemporary paintings and decided to make forays into purchasing them. Armed with such skin-deep theoretical knowledge, we thought that we were ready to embark on our path as collectors! We could not have been more wrong.

We were cautious in our first ceramic acquisitions of the late 19th century Chinese pieces, which were relatively affordable and there were few fakes then in the shops and more quality conscious collectors would shun them in preference for those of older vintages. Our colourful wares were pretty to look at, but lacking in artistic merit as we found out only much later. As we were quite satisfied with these picks then, we became emboldened and decided to go for the older and better quality pieces which would set us back by quite a tidy sum.

One day, we were shown an assorted antique Chinese ceramic pieces by an amiable and patient proprietor of a long established antique shop. A 12-inch blue and white vase caught our eyes and we were instantly struck by its obvious aesthetic charm and appeal. The proprietor, sensing our interest in it, promptly complimented us on our “cultivated taste” in selecting a “rare collector’s item”, made during the reign of Emperor Kang Hsi (1662-1722) of the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911). We bought it after some negotiation over several cups of exquisite Chinese tea, as this seemingly benign and elderly dealer had convinced us that it was indeed a very good buy at a most reasonable price considering its quality, rarity and intrinsic value. A well-carved blackwood stand and a silk-lined brocaded box came with it.

We later proudly showed it to a couple of collector friends who showed much interest in our ware and congratulated us on our “discerning eyes and judgment”. But the moment of truth came six months later, long after we had “discovered several more bargain pieces” from this and other shops as we were then gripped by a burst of collecting fever and spent almost all our weekends hoping to discover more bargains from various antique shops. The fateful day finally arrived, a consummate collector of impeccable credentials from overseas came to our house for dinner. We naturally showed him our pride, the Kang Hsi vase, confident that he, too, would be impressed by it and this would decidedly make our day. He took a close look at its motif and examined the neat and well-written six-character reign mark at the base, and lamented that, although it is undoubtedly a superbly-crafted first rate specimen of that period, its neck had, unfortunately, been truncated due to earlier damage. He taught us our first object lesson in collecting antique ceramics: that a defective porcelain, no matter how exquisite, leaves one with an utter sense of frustration, not to mention that its commercial value would have been substantially diminished. He put it most aptly and poetically: “Its like gazing at a stunningly beautiful woman with pock marks.”

He also told us that the dealer was under a professional duty to disclose its condition to us. The fact that he had failed to do so, and instead charged us an exorbitant price as though it was perfect, clearly showed that he meant to deceive us on account of our inexperience. I promptly confronted the dealer who, at first, flatly denied that the vase was defective and refused to make a refund. It was only when I threatened to seek legal redress that he realised that the game was up and I got my money back.

This unpleasant episode was timely and had a salutary impact on our collecting career. We became more discerning and less impulsive when buying antiques thereafter, for impetuosity is a common weakness of most beginner collectors. Through the recommendations of expert collectors, we came to know two reputable and knowledgeable Singapore dealers. From Mr Goh and Mr Loh, of Moon Gate, we bought our first respectable and perfect piece of porcelain, a doucai bowl of the Jiaqing reign (1796-1820), which was sagaciously chosen by my wife. But, unfortunately, we could not bring ourselves to acquire a couple of even more desirable pieces which, at a pinch, we could have afforded by not buying the other lesser pieces. To this day, our lack of foresight continues to haunt us, as such excellent wares had become very scarce in the market and would now fetch a small fortune at international auctions.

From the late Mr Lim, who once owned a well-known shop in Orchard Road, we bought a fine blanc de Chine libation cup, made by a Dehua kiln in China’s Fujian province, in the 18th century. Its glaze is almond-white and was very thinly potted. It has sentimental value for us both: it was my birthday present to my wife.

Over the years, we had learned a great deal about the finer points of Chinese ceramics of the different periods from these and other mentors, much more than we would have gained from book knowledge and passive viewing of pieces at museums or exhibitions. Since then, despite our having ventured into collecting other art forms such as painting, jade, antique furniture, collecting Chinese ceramics continues to be our real passion and abiding hobby, without which our lives will definitely be less fulfilling. As our experience and knowledge grew, we had also made some very exciting and memorable purchases overseas.

Based on our own experiences, the following tips might help would-be or new collectors of Chinese ceramics, if only to avoid certain pitfalls which had confronted us earlier, and to make their artistic pursuit more joyous and smoother a process:

• Read, view and handle as many pieces as possible before making your first purchases.
• Take your time before making up your mind so that you would not regret it later.
• Buy only from reputable dealers as they would guarantee the authenticity of the article in order to maintain their hard-earned trust of collectors.
• Concentrate on the best quality pieces that you can afford, as this will pay handsome dividends in the long run than buying quantities of mediocre pieces, besides giving you endless hours of enjoyment.
• Collect art for appreciation rather than for investment. By so doing, your collection will better reflect your personality and taste, instead of that of your expert advisers! Also, if you had bought the right pieces, they would definitely increase in value with time as their supplies are limited and finite.

Happy antiques hunting!
29.2.08