Page 14 - Sothebys HK Dragon Emperor April 2024

LONDON, NOVEMBER 2010 inflected by the strong architectural contours, I am overcome with emotion as I sit grandfather must have missed it dearly for him to
completes this profound aesthetic experience. chase at great cost its close counterpart just a few
It is auction season in London and collectors and in front of this beautiful gathering years later in a packed room in St James, the one he
art world professionals from across Greater China, of ceramics, ethereally threaded would later pass on to Ataka.
Japan, Europe and America have gathered in London together by the continuum of the
for a week of auctions. Mayfair, St James and For the week, I choose to wear my More than a decade has passed since I handled
Kensington Church street are bustling with cocktail Chinese potter’s art through the these pieces for the first time. As I write these lines,
parties, openings and auctions. For the week, I grandfather’s 1960s Omega and rise and fall of dynasties, and by I glance at my old watch, my grandfather’s Omega,
choose to wear my grandfather’s 1960s Omega and his classic ‘Goldknot' cufflinks, my grandfather’s eye who ever so not looking at the time, but rather reminding myself
his classic ‘Goldknot’ cufflinks, heirlooms that I wear heirlooms that I wear only sparingly of the power that objects have to transcend it, bring
only sparingly. It is the day after our auction and I assuredly handpicked them. My back to the present moments and people, while
finally have some time to myself and retreat to our […] I have heard the name many grandfather is here in soul, in each inviting us to weave ourselves into this continuum.
department, hidden deep in the entrails of Sotheby’s. times before growing up, my father and every one of the pieces. Sadly, the distinguished European collector who
I walk past our storage shelves and notice a vase, had spoken about a group of fine for close to sixty years cherished these treasures
octagonal in form and dressed in a caesious-coloured of Chinese ceramic art has since passed. His heirs
glaze, perched high on a shelf. From this distance, pieces sold by my grandfather to There are other pieces too. I climb up the ladder take have kindly given me the privilege of dispersing
it looks strangely familiar, perhaps a cousin of the a European collector, the pieces them down one after the other. I am overcome with them in the hope that a new generation of collectors
famous Song dynasty Guan vase that stands today had seemingly vanished for many emotion as I sit in front of this beautiful gathering and custodians may share in the joy of their
in the Ataka collection in Osaka, an object that I of ceramics, ethereally threaded together by the contemplation.
have admired for many years, a masterpiece of Song decades. continuum of the Chinese potter’s art through the
ceramics that my grandfather Edward Chow acquired rise and fall of dynasties, and by my grandfather’s
in an epic auction battle against the Japanese dealer eye who ever so assuredly handpicked them. My
Goro Sakamoto in London in 1970. It cannot be that grandfather is here in soul, in each and every one of As I write these lines, I glance at
vase. I climb up the tall ladder, pick up the vase, Why is this extraordinary object sitting on a high the pieces. I pull out my phone and call my father, I my old watch, not looking at the
bring it over to our library and place it on our study shelf in our department. I walk over to my colleague’s tell him that this group has at long last reappeared.
table. The strength of the form anchored in its wide office, our department head, and ask him about it. He He asks me whether there is a Song dynasty guan time, but rather reminding myself
shoulders is accented by a ridge that almost seems says that the piece is part of a distinguished European vase among them, an object he says grandpa had of the power that objects have to
to pull the glaze back from the sharply falling sides. collection of mostly Chinese monochromes which much affection for. I hang up and return to it, losing
The glaze is rich, brought to life by a rhythmic crackle has been taken in for valuation. I ask him for the name myself in the maze of its crackle. The thought comes transcend it, and bring back to the
that runs across the somewhat milky expanse and of the collector. Uncanny. I have heard the name to me that, soon after selling the present vase, my present moments and people.
swirls around the tall neck. Its extraordinary depth many times before growing up, my father had spoken
keeps me absorbed in contemplation. I finally reach about a group of fine pieces sold by my grandfather
out to explore it with my hands and the tactile to a European collector, the pieces had seemingly
generosity of the vase, the soft unctuous touch vanished for many decades.

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