Friday, February 16, 2018

Happy Chinese New Year, the Year of the Dog

Today is the first day of Chinese New Year, which this year is also Dog Year. Last night I went as usual to my friends to have dinner, but today it struck me how much the celebration of New Year has changed in the relatively short time since I came to Taiwan.

The New Year is not celebrated with the intensity and traditions it once had even a few years ago. One reason might be the banning of firecrackers as too dangerous. Before, midnight was thunderous with the noise of firecrackers (to scare bad luck away), and during the entire new year’s day, and even for a week,  there was a constant barrage. Now all is still, except for a rare pop here and they from someone intent on keeping the old traditions, or with a few leftover firecrackers.

Also, for at least a week all shops were closed and the streets were virtually empty. It was like a ghost town, but now many shops are open even on New Year’s Day, and there were quite a few people walking about, instead of spending time with their families and playing mah-jongg.  Many of my friends used to go to some other part of Taiwan for a week or two to visit family, but now they only go for a few days, if they leave at all. By Monday (since this is a weekend) I am sure that everything will be back to usual.

Another oddity is in New Year’s Greetings. There used to be a dozen or two to choose from, some of which were mentioned in the post on the tin house bank. It has even been a couple of years since I have heard the classic “Gong Xi Fa Cai” (congratulations and prosperity, in Mandarin), which has become archaic. Now all you hear, even to natives speaking to each other, at least in Taipei, is “Xin Nian Kuai Le” the literal translation of Happy New Year.

It is not unusual even to hear “Happy New Year” spoken in English between natives. Most people in Taiwan like to sprinkle some English around, the way English speakers once liked to toss in French phrases, for added cachet and élan (see!).

My selection of New Year Animals has to be somewhat skimpy this year, owing to a paucity (no pun intended) of real dogs in Chinese antiques, at least the ones I have collected. As has been touched on in the past, foo dogs (or fu dogs) are not dogs at all, but are actually lions. I have once or twice tried to look this up, but the etymology of the phrase seems lost in time. Perhaps the ‘foo’ is the same as the Chinese word meaning wealth or luck, but even that is uncertain, and it still leaves the dog part unexplained.

This small black and white ceramic dog, a charming little fellow, is however an unequivocal example. The black stripes might look more at home on a zebra, but since there is no Zebra Year, I have no hesitation in letting him be the mascot for Dog Year. Looking at it, it seems as though it might have been influenced by some of the Staffordshire ceramics from England, although a quick internet check failed to find any close parallels.

One problem with small Chinese animals is that they are often not identifiable with any degree of certainty. Take a look at this small pendant wooden case, with brass hardware, intended to be worn at the waist and perhaps for tobacco or snuff. The small animal splayed on the lid seems like it could be a dog, but this is far from certain. Let me know in the comments whether you think this is a dog or some other animal—fox?? weasel?? etc. I know that I should go after that dust with a toothbrush, but my policy with cleaning or fixing antiques is to go slowly. I imagine that in the future I will spiff this up a bit.

I deliberately withheld this wooden vinaigrette with a dog finial from the vinaigrette post, although it was visible in the group photo, because I knew that Dog Year was coming up. Almost always, an animal on top of the vinaigrette is a lion, of which many examples were shown in the earlier article. In fact, I think that this is the only animal-topped example I have seen that does not feature a lion.

This vinaigrette does seem somewhat later than the other ones—perhaps 1940’s, but that is only a vague guess. Sporting a dragon on each side, it could well have been made to celebrate some earlier Dog Year, or as a gift for someone who was a Dog, that is, born in a Dog Year. At any rate, the dog is boldly modeled, and I love the way his tongue sticks out!

Remember, this is only about 2 inches tall.

The narrow side features a coin and a connected-dot pattern; perhaps this is supposed to depict a dog constellation.

There are seasonal stores in Taiwan that at this time sell New Year decorations and merchandise. Unlike my antiques, almost anything dog-related is available, done up in the traditional red and gold. I bought a red plush dog wearing traditional brocade clothing and hat, for the same child who got the chicken last year.

As in the West, in Chinese cultures dogs are valued for their friendliness, loyalty, and responsibility. These would all be welcome traits to come to the forefront in the coming year. I wish everyone a joyful, healthy and prosperous Year of the Dog.

All photos and original objects property of the author.

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Collecting Chinese Pewter

Recently I wrote about the use of pewter in Chinese tea caddies, which led me to examine some of the other pewter articles I have accumulated over the years. Before I came to Taiwan, pewter from America, Britain and Europe evoked such iconic objects as plates, spoons, teapots, tankards and measures. Indeed an old-time or historic interior seems incomplete without the sheen of pewter. Chinese pewter was similarly worked into a wide range of objects, many of them replete with Chinese symbolism or incorporating Chinese methods of decoration.

This wonderful bright object is a hanging wall shelf in the shape of a bat. It is difficult to know what it was definitely for, but likely some religious use rather than a strictly household one. Chopsticks and incense usually had tubular or boxlike wall holders. The bat, lucky in itself,  is holding a disc in which is cut a lucky two-joined-coins symbol (representing prosperity) just above the tray with its scalloped edge. The base is formed of a large engraved vase flanked by patriotic flags. It is decorated with lively glass “jewels” including the black eyes of the bat, and even the ears were made separately and fixed in place—a nice touch.

The back view gives some clues to the construction, and shows how the gems were set so that light could shine through them.

Above is a delightful small cloud-shaped box. If it had a specific use it is a mystery—perhaps it once held a fancy cake of ink. The shape somewhat resembles a bat, so the ink could have been molded in that form, but in that case I would have expected the matching box to be shaped and engraved accurately.

The box opened—what could have been inside?

Pewter is a soft metal, easily worked by many methods, such as casting, stamping, or engraving, as show below. The graying metal shows off the elaborate floral engraving in the center, surrounded by a fretwork border made by a stamp.

The side of this box has already been seen here.

Opened up, we see that this is a cosmetics case with mirror and small drawer. Note the odd-shaped reservoir that lies flat under the mirror, presumably for trinkets, which would not be visible or accessible when the mirror was shut.

The cosmetics case has a clear, round hall mark.

Below is a small incense burner, with a pierced lid which includes five lucky bats surrounding a longevity symbol.

A side view discloses the thickness of the box, as well as the tab feet to keep the heat from delicate surfaces. Although it doesn’t show in the photo, the box rests securely on three of these feet, equally spaced.

Some pewter objects highlight the workability and ease of decoration of the pewter, while others, like this deep box, emphasize the beauty and sheen of the metal itself. The decoration is limited to one very thin line inscribed around the edge of the lid, which is very slightly rounded or domed, as had been seen previously in one of the tea canisters.

A side view shows the notable depth of the box.

Removing the top reveals all. This box contained the red ink paste used for Chinese seals or chops. The two unequally-sized compartments are presumably for different grades of ink. This box is quite large for ordinary personal seals, and considering its quality it was probably used by some important official or artist to accommodate the large seals used for documents and paintings. Someone made an attempt to scrape out the old ink, which had probably seen better days. Luckily, they did not clean it completely, but notice how the soft pewter was scratched when the ink was gouged out from the bottom.

The above small charming box, perhaps meant for face powder, is very delicate in its workmanship. About three inches across, it shows the refinement that can be built into pewter. The top has been inlaid with brass or copper in a pattern of birds resting on flowering plum branches. 

A close-up of the top shows that the brass has been further engraved for more detail, and that the eyes of the birds and the centers of the flowers have been in turn inlaid with more pewter or perhaps silver.

The inside shows the incredible patina, as well as the gently curving sides of the box.

The fitted wooden box shows that some collector prized and protected this delightful pewter object.

I purposely enlarged the photograph of this spectacular pewter dragon knife with base to give some idea of its large size, about two feet long. It is splendid in the boldness of its modeling. Many gods and heroes carried these halberd- or glaive-like weapons with the knives mounted at the end of long shafts. This model knife was meant to come out of its base, and be attached to a long pole for use in religious parades, which often include giant figures of the god or gods being honored.

Although probably used in parades, this knife was for show only. The metal is much too soft to be actually used, even for a martial-arts demonstration. The round bosses or studs on the blade are perhaps bronze, which would have given it a dressy look when new. Note also the wooden collar where it fits into the base, and the blue material that will allow it to come out easily.

This is the same photo, but reduced so you can see the shape all at once. Among the Chinese names I have found for this type of weapon are qing long dao (青龍刀, green dragon knife), guan dao (關刀,knife of Guan Yu), and yan yue dao  (偃月刀,reclining moon knife), but classification of Chinese arms can be complicated. Large knives mounted on long spears are collectively called da dao (大刀, or simply “big knives”).

Here is an old-fashioned square hallmark from a compartmented pewter box.

Finally, we come to a most remarkable object, one so delicate and complicated that it is surprising that it has survived so long undamaged. It reminds me of those intricate Mediaeval European wood or ivory carvings. The decoration is built up in registers or layers, a technique encountered frequently in ancient art (although this pewter object is “merely” antique).

At the bottom, there is a panel of old-fashioned Chinese characters, Tian Zuo Zhi He (天作之合) meaning “a match made in heaven,” indicating that this was likely a wedding gift. Above this is a band of naturalistic-looking branches, enhanced with three bosses. Directly above this, at the narrow waist of the object, is a simple rectangular grid.

The next panel up shows two Chinese coins, probably indicating prosperity for the new couple. We might expect these coins to be joined as are those in the Bat shelf, showing that two individuals now make one combined unit, but these coins are separated. Perhaps they are meant to underscore the individual importance of the two participants, or if we read this as a story, up from the base, they have not been married yet.

The actual ceremony seems to be taking place in the next and main panel, showing the happy couple individually framed but with hands joined. They are flanked by diamond-shaped geometrical panels with central bosses. Above this is a row of three large bosses, separating the next panel of geometric stars (with central bosses), which, in honor of my British readers, look like Union Jacks. The crowning decoration is a row of nine bosses.

Why so many bosses, especially on the upper part of this object? The bosses are smoother than the surrounding metal, indicating that they had originally been polished. When this was new and the pewter was bright, the bosses would have sparkled like jewels, making quite a remarkable sight, although it is perhaps just as well that it has toned itself down over the years.

A top view tells us that this is an offering stand. Although it looks specifically meant for eggs, it was more likely for any small offerings to be placed on the altar. I have seen wooden versions of these stands with the cups much shallower, in which eggs could not easily stand. Since eggs carry such symbolism, I additionally asked my married friend Wen if eggs played any part in the marriage ceremony, but he thought not—at least not at his wedding. Notice how each cup has been crafted separately and then carefully soldered into the top. 

Pewter certainly played an important part in Chinese art and craftsmanship. The items illustrated here are all very different in scale, complexity, and use, but let me know if you have a favorite, or if you have any pewter objects of your own (not necessarily Chinese) that you treasure.

All photos and original objects illustrated are property of the author.

Friday, December 29, 2017

How Many Brass Mouthpieces Do You Need?

Last summer I was sorting through a box of brass instrument mouthpieces, placing them on a table as I unpacked them. My mother happening to come by asked me, “How many mouthpieces do you need, anyway?”

Of course, there is no limit to the number of mouthpieces I need, but what struck me about her question was that although they may appear similar, there are worlds of differences between mouthpieces that make ownership of many of them not an idle whim, but a vital necessity.

Unpacking these brass mouthpieces was like visiting old friends.
I like to play old brass instruments, especially the cornet and the alto horn, and each mouthpiece has its own qualities and merits. The difference they can make in the playability and sound of each instrument is almost unbelievable. This is in addition to their different appearances and historical associations.

The mouthpieces they make today can be very high quality, but they are very inappropriate to use with old instruments. This is especially true for cornet mouthpieces, which used to be conical in shape, and gave a more mellow sound. Today’s cornet mouthpieces are really miniature trumpet mouthpieces, featuring a cup-shaped interior, and give even antique cornets a more brilliant, trumpet-like sound, which is at odds with old cornet music, which, while capable of brilliance, revels in its moonbeams-and-roses, Victorian atmosphere.

The late 19th and early 20th century were the golden era of brass instruments, when every town had its own brass band, and cornet and trombone soloists such as Jules Levy, Herbert L. Clarke, and Arthur Pryor were all household names. Many old mouthpieces feature the names of premium manufacturers, and were modeled after the preferences of the famous brass soloists of years gone by.

When you obtain an old brass instrument, you must gather as many historical mouthpieces as possible, and see which ones fit the instrument, your anatomy (embouchure), and personal playing style. Here are a few particular ones from my collection:

This tuba mouthpiece is very special to me, as it belonged to my grandfather, a professional tuba player and music store owner in Canton, Ohio. It was custom made to his specifications by the famous maker Vincent Bach, and has my grandfather’s initials, E.G. for Edward Gottlieb, stamped on it.

Here are two very early ivory mouthpieces made for bass instruments such as serpents and ophicleides.   

An example in the V&A of a serpent, an early bass instrument and predecessor of the ophicleide and tuba, and often played with ivory mouthpieces like the above.

Three trombone mouthpieces from different eras. At left is a modern Vincent Bach, in the middle an anonymous Victorian example, and on the right an early 20th century Lyon and Healy, a fine maker, with its more sleek “moderne” shape.

Two trombone mouthpieces endorsed by famous players. At left is a Conn Pryor model. Arthur Pryor was possibly the greatest trombone player in history. On the right is an Innes model, also by Conn, named for Frederick Neil Innes.

Arthur Pryor was a trombone player whose virtuosity was stunning, and whose playing was often captured on early records. He also wrote many of the more difficult trombone solos still played today.

Frederick Neil Innes was another trombone soloist of the golden era, who likewise wrote solo compositions still popular with all brass players.

Here are two alto-range mouthpieces. First, a mellophone mouthpiece by Conn—all brass instruments and mouthpieces by Conn are first-rate. Next to it is a cheap, modern alto mouthpiece by Herco (even the name sounds unpleasant!). There really should be a law forbidding Conn and Herco to be photographed together. Herco is a terrible mouthpiece, uncomfortable to play and inferior-sounding. These are often given to new students, who understandably give up after a short while, thinking that the fault is theirs. There really is no excuse for poor quality mouthpieces like Herco or Jupiter when so many fine ones are being made—or just lying around. They deserve C.S. Lewis’s description as mouthpieces “that the lip loves not.”

A modern but fine quality French horn mouthpiece by Rudy Muck, which I found at a house sale just last summer.

Three early trumpet mouthpieces, by Hill, anonymous, and Cousenon, the latter a fine French maker.

More modern trumpet mouthpieces by Holton (always a great name), Vincent Bach (again), and H.N. White, a maker of professional quality instruments in Cleveland, Ohio.

Finally, we get to the all-important category of cornet and bugle mouthpieces. Here are two very early examples.

Classic early cornet mouthpieces by Pepper, Besson (another important French maker), McMillin (another quality Cleveland maker), and Charles Triebert. Charles was the brother of Frederic Triebert, the maker most important in developing the modern oboe (my main instrument). The Charles Triebert company continued into the 20th century, and appears to be a mass maker of many types of band instruments.

A variety of good cornet mouthpieces. First, a modern Vincent Bach (naturally!),  followed by a fine and classic Frank Holton. Next is a H.N. White cornet mouthpiece (White was McMillin’s foreman, and apparently took over his operations.) Finally, a Conn Wonder, an instrument and mouthpiece that seems to find special favor with musicians.

A top view shows the differences between old and newer cornet mouthpieces. Notice the shallow, cup-like depression in the Bach mouthpiece on the left, in addition to its general massiveness, compared to the deep, conical interior of the older and lighter Holton model on the right. The shape of the interior is probably the single-most important factor in the basic sound of the instrument.

A spectacular find, “The only genuine Levy Model” made by Lyon and Healy. Jules Levy was the greatest cornetist of the late 19th century.  

Jules Levy was habitually known as “The World’s Greatest Cornetist.” Although he did make a few fine records in the early 1900’s, he was by then a little past his prime, but these records are still treasured. In addition to his brilliant playing, he was known for his beautiful phrasing, and famous opera singers would attend his concerts to hear him play and learn from him.

Along with the mouthpieces themselves, one has to look out for the small tuning bits or shanks, which could correct the pitch of an instrument in an era of multiple pitch standards, or even make it play in another key, while acting as a liaison between mouthpiece and instrument.

A special tribute to my very favorite: an anonymous 19th century alto horn mouthpiece. It might not look like much, but it plays great, and is very comfortable. I brought this to Taiwan to play with an old Conn alto horn from the 1920’s, but unfortunately brass instruments are too penetrating to play in an apartment (I don’t hate my neighbors that much!).

At this point, the different silhouettes of the mouthpieces will convey more meaning, as well as show the size range for the several types of instruments. This just represents one box worth, and is hardly a treatise on mouthpieces, but I hope that some of their basic differences and qualities have been illustrated.

How does one acquire so many examples? When I was in college, I used to stop in at older-looking music stores and ask if they had any old mouthpieces lying around. They usually came up with a box of miscellaneous parts and junk from the back room from which I could choose; some real treasures turned up this way.

If you play a wind or brass instrument, did you have a special mouthpiece that made all the difference when playing it? What about brass instruments in general—do you have a particular favorite? Although I most often play the alto horn, my real favorite is the old-fashioned cornet, especially when played by the likes of Jules Levy, Herbert Clarke, or Bohumir Kryl on early records. 

You are supposed to blow horns to usher in the New Year. I hope that this post will get everyone in the mood, and that all my readers have a happy, healthy and prosperous 2018!


All mouthpieces and photos of same property of the author.
Photos of Pryor, Levy and the Serpent via Wikipedia.
Photo of Innes located here.