brought until now does not amount
to much and is mostly inferior.” He decided not to buy any of what was on offer that year. “Only very curious goods will serve,” he decided.
By the time the White Lion was loading at the docks of Bantam in the winter of 1612, Chinese suppliers were meeting the higher standard that the VOC
expected. The Wapen van Amsterdam , the flagship of Lam’s decimated fleet, brought back only five barrels of porcelain, each of which contained five large dishes.
These were special purchases brought as gifts to VOC officials. It was the other Dutch ship that made it to port, the Vlissingen , that carried the main china cargo. It disgorged 38,641 pieces, ranging from large, expensive serving dishes and brandy
decanters to modest but attractive oil and vinegar jars and little cups for holding candles. The load was worth 6,791 guilders—not
an unimaginably vast sum when you consider that a skilled artisan at the time could earn 200 guilders in a year, but substantial
nonetheless. This was the start of a long and growing trade in porcelain. By 1640, to choose a date and ship at random, the Nassau alone carried back to Amsterdam 126,391 pieces of porcelain. Porcelain was not the most profitable cargo on the ship—that
was pepper, of which the Nassau carried 9,164 sacks—but it was the commodity that created the greatest presence in Dutch society. Over the first half of
the seventeenth century, VOC ships delivered to Europe a total of well over three million pieces.
CHINESE POTTERS PRODUCED FOR EXPORT markets all over the world. They also produced for the home market, in quantity and quality
far beyond the stuff they shipped abroad. Chinese of the Ming dynasty were as keen to own beautiful blue-and-white porcelain
as were Dutch householders, but they acquired it guided by much more complex standards of taste.
Wen Zhenheng was a leading connoisseur and arbiter of taste of his generation (he died in 1645). He was living in the cultural
metropolis of Suzhou when the White Lion exploded and sank. His home city produced and consumed the very finest works of art and cultural objects to be found in China,
as well as the most commercial. Wen was perfectly placed to produce his famous handbook of cultural consumption and good taste, A Treatise on Superfluous Things . The great-grandson of the greatest artist of the sixteenth century, an essayist in his own right, and a member of one of
the richest and most exclusive families in Suzhou, Wen had all the credentials needed to pass the judgments of his class on
what was done and not done in polite society, and on what should be owned and what avoided—which is what A Treatise on Superfluous Things is all about. A guide to the dos and don’ts of acquiring and using nice things, it was an answer to the prayers of readers
who, unlike a gentleman such as Wen, were not sufficiently educated or well bred to know these things by upbringing. It was
for the nouveaux riches who yearned to be accepted by their social superiors. On Wen’s part, it was also a clever way to profit
from their ignorance, for the book sold well.
In the section on decorative objects, Wen Zhenheng sets the bar for good quality porcelain very high. He allows that porcelain
is something a gentleman should collect and put on display, but doubts that anything produced after the second quarter of
the fifteenth century has any value, at least as something you would want to let your friends know you owned. The perfect
piece of porcelain, he declares, should be “as blue as the sky, as lustrous as a mirror, as thin as paper, and as resonant
as a chime”—though he has the sense to wonder whether such perfection has ever been achieved, even in the fifteenth century.
He does let a few sixteenth-century pieces pass his scrutiny—but only so long as they were only for everyday use. A host might
serve tea to his guests in cups produced by Potter Cui, for
to much and is mostly inferior.” He decided not to buy any of what was on offer that year. “Only very curious goods will serve,” he decided.
By the time the White Lion was loading at the docks of Bantam in the winter of 1612, Chinese suppliers were meeting the higher standard that the VOC
expected. The Wapen van Amsterdam , the flagship of Lam’s decimated fleet, brought back only five barrels of porcelain, each of which contained five large dishes.
These were special purchases brought as gifts to VOC officials. It was the other Dutch ship that made it to port, the Vlissingen , that carried the main china cargo. It disgorged 38,641 pieces, ranging from large, expensive serving dishes and brandy
decanters to modest but attractive oil and vinegar jars and little cups for holding candles. The load was worth 6,791 guilders—not
an unimaginably vast sum when you consider that a skilled artisan at the time could earn 200 guilders in a year, but substantial
nonetheless. This was the start of a long and growing trade in porcelain. By 1640, to choose a date and ship at random, the Nassau alone carried back to Amsterdam 126,391 pieces of porcelain. Porcelain was not the most profitable cargo on the ship—that
was pepper, of which the Nassau carried 9,164 sacks—but it was the commodity that created the greatest presence in Dutch society. Over the first half of
the seventeenth century, VOC ships delivered to Europe a total of well over three million pieces.
CHINESE POTTERS PRODUCED FOR EXPORT markets all over the world. They also produced for the home market, in quantity and quality
far beyond the stuff they shipped abroad. Chinese of the Ming dynasty were as keen to own beautiful blue-and-white porcelain
as were Dutch householders, but they acquired it guided by much more complex standards of taste.
Wen Zhenheng was a leading connoisseur and arbiter of taste of his generation (he died in 1645). He was living in the cultural
metropolis of Suzhou when the White Lion exploded and sank. His home city produced and consumed the very finest works of art and cultural objects to be found in China,
as well as the most commercial. Wen was perfectly placed to produce his famous handbook of cultural consumption and good taste, A Treatise on Superfluous Things . The great-grandson of the greatest artist of the sixteenth century, an essayist in his own right, and a member of one of
the richest and most exclusive families in Suzhou, Wen had all the credentials needed to pass the judgments of his class on
what was done and not done in polite society, and on what should be owned and what avoided—which is what A Treatise on Superfluous Things is all about. A guide to the dos and don’ts of acquiring and using nice things, it was an answer to the prayers of readers
who, unlike a gentleman such as Wen, were not sufficiently educated or well bred to know these things by upbringing. It was
for the nouveaux riches who yearned to be accepted by their social superiors. On Wen’s part, it was also a clever way to profit
from their ignorance, for the book sold well.
In the section on decorative objects, Wen Zhenheng sets the bar for good quality porcelain very high. He allows that porcelain
is something a gentleman should collect and put on display, but doubts that anything produced after the second quarter of
the fifteenth century has any value, at least as something you would want to let your friends know you owned. The perfect
piece of porcelain, he declares, should be “as blue as the sky, as lustrous as a mirror, as thin as paper, and as resonant
as a chime”—though he has the sense to wonder whether such perfection has ever been achieved, even in the fifteenth century.
He does let a few sixteenth-century pieces pass his scrutiny—but only so long as they were only for everyday use. A host might
serve tea to his guests in cups produced by Potter Cui, for
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