The History and Mystery of Ceramics

View Photos (6) Image © 2000 Claire Ellis

It is our golden rule of traveling, "don't buy anything you can't carry easily or that's breakable." But then rules were always meant to be broken and no where is it more tempting than wandering along the rows and rows of ceramics for sale in Vietnam. Just glancing at them in the shop window was enough to bring a stern look from my traveling partner. But then, just two shops further down, it was he who brought my attention to the tiny fine blue and white tea pot, covered in a film of dust on the second shelf from the top, at the back. Of course we bought it, nursed it gingerly through the remainder of our travels and it now sits jauntily on a shelf in the living room, reminding us of far more than just the foray into the shop and the gentle art of negotiation that began.

It is hard to ignore ceramics on a visit to Vietnam. Many shops are lined with all sorts of variations; old, dusty pieces touted as antiques that definitely are not; a few choice items that possibly are old; bright and modern vases; ornaments, lamp stands and stools; and classic Chinese style blue and white bowls and plates or tiny fine cups. Perhaps new copies of Ming are more your style. Many are too large and heavy to carry on a journey through the country but the urge for a great memory and wonderful bargain is strong. Travelers are often seen boarding the plane on their departure with a large well-wrapped package. "Why not," said Pete in Ho Chi Minh's airport, as he stood next to a bundle that turned out to be a huge vase. "We spent two weeks going through the country with nothing but a couple of back packs. In our last two days here before we left, we saw it, loved it and the difference between what it cost us to buy it here, compared to back home....hey, its no problem." He was waiting to check it on as luggage. Alternatively, have it shipped.

Ceramics are not a new export and for centuries the country was known for making some of the finest in all of Asia. As one of the early industries, producing for both the domestic and export market, it had a significant impact on the country's history. Flick through any ceramics book and you'll find a section on Vietnam. Many of these ancient urns and bowls are prized in specialist collections around the world and while these antiques are justly famous, they are now classified as part of the country's heritage and so are not permitted exports. This doesn't stop me from admiring them and reverently inspecting the pieces I see as I travel. After all, learning about the development of ceramics in Vietnam is yet another way of getting a glimpse into the people's way of life in the past and the influences that ebbed and flowed throughout the country's history.

The introduction of ceramics to Vietnam was considered such a significant event that there are two temples dedicated to the country's most famous potters. The technique was brought here by the Chinese. Hoang Quang Hung came and observed people having to go to the river to drink. Amazed, he taught them how to make a large water storage pot. Prior to this, the Vietnamese had only been able to make much smaller, basic pieces. Now they learned the skills to make larger pottery items. It took three months to learn all the complicated tasks set by the Chinese teacher, but one student, Troung Trung Ai, studied well and became highly skilled. According to legend, he was so grateful afterward for the new knowledge that he offered his teacher twenty gold bars as a reward. Troung then went on to teach his fellow villagers what he had learned. Both teacher and student have a temple honoring them.

The techniques soon spread throughout the country and two of the reasons Vietnam went on to become so esteemed in ceramic production were the great skills of the potters and also the fact that the country has many deposits of the basic ingredient, kaolin. In certain areas the quality is extremely high.

Archaeological digs have found several important historic sites. Production was usually concentrated in a village and a large kiln area indicates a good sized population must have lived there. Because of the wealth that came from the ceramic trade, these villages were coveted and protected by local rulers. Today, production still tends to be clustered around certain villages. Locations are known for their work and can be distinguished by the type of product they make. Mong Cai, Hai Duong and Bat Trang are known for porcelain-ware, Song Be and Dong Nai for pottery and Thanh Hoa, Bien Hoa and Song Be, again, for earthenware.

The most famous region is the Red River Delta area, within about a hundred kilometer radius of present day Hanoi. Here the bulk of the classic pottery of the last 1000 years was made and a significant amount of the specifically produced export pieces. Although there is little remaining evidence of many of the ancient pottery centers, there was certainly plenty of the basic raw materials of kaolin and feldspar available. These historic pieces are rather confusingly known as Annam ware. Annam means 'pacified south', and at the time when ceramic production was at its height, this was the name given by the Chinese to this part of Vietnam. Later, this northern region was renamed Tonkin and Annam became the name for what is now central Vietnam.

Central Vietnam also had its own village production centers and the ancient Champa kingdom was known for its glazed pottery. The Go-Sanh kilns near Qui Nhon in Binh Dinh were well-established and probably stopped production around the late fifteenth century as the Champa Kingdom fell.

The links with China are obvious and at times it takes an expert to distinguish a Chinese from a Vietnamese antique ceramic. But careful examination of some pieces also indicates similarities with Thai ceramicware, pointing to a historic link between the two cultures. From detailed archaeological work, it appears there was a link around AD 1300 between northern Thailand and northern Vietnam.

But the examination of the past through artifacts is not always a straightforward process. For hundreds of years traders have been honing their skills and the global world of international trade that we see today was not so different in the past. Detailed examination of old pieces across Asia reveals that certain items were made specifically for export to a single area and were made to the design given by the importer. Entrepreneurs knew what the kilns of each country were making and samples or drawings from one kiln were sent to a rival with requests for it to be copied, naturally at a lower price. This has made identifying and recognizing the origins of certain pieces a nightmare for the archaeologists, but from shipwrecks, and land-based digs, careful examination of the designs, shapes, stacking methods and symbols have helped unravel some of the ceramic mysteries of Asia.

A quick glance around today indicates that the same business acumen shown by traders in the past is still present today. Just as exports were a crucial part of the trade centuries ago, so too, today's modern ceramic businesses are producing a huge eclectic mix of items for both the export and domestic markets, depending on demand. There are finely painted elephants with flat tops as side tables, umbrella stands, gaudily painted fish-shaped plates, and classic shaped kendi pots for keeping water cool. I was admiring some gorgeous deep blue pottery garden pots with bright yellow suns painted on them. They hit you in the eye in a mod-Mediterranean way and were certainly not traditional. As I eyed them, the lady from the factory told me that the stacks I was examining were being prepared for export by the container load to Australia. The design was shown to them by the importer.

It made me pause for thought. No wonder Vietnam is so good at copying and trading. They have been practicing for centuries! The same production techniques that brought trading ships from around the region here, and made the country famous hundreds of years ago, are still used in the villages. The ceramics producers of today are building on that wealth of indigenous materials and talent. And the traders are simply doing what they have always done. The results of current international trade links means some producers are recreating traditional designs after discussing needs with architects and interior design consultants who are helping restore some of the older buildings in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh. Some are using the same ideas and materials to design new buildings that will fit in with the classic buildings next to them, rather than clash in terms of architectural style. Other traders are again focusing solely on the international markets and bringing overseas designs that can be reproduced with Vietnamese skills and flair, to produce an even better product.

Mr. Binh, from Dona Ceramics, acknowledged that the ceramics export business is currently flourishing. "We have orders from all over the world and it is difficult for us to produce fast enough to fill them." Sadly, I had to agree as the best were being readied for export and only the seconds, that had not passed the inspection test, were left for me to pick over as I hoped to buy a couple of plates. Pete's shopping advice were experienced words of wisdom. "Make sure you take a rag or some thing to wipe down the pieces. The cheaper ones are often seconds rejected by exporters because of bubbles or problems with the glaze. The faults can be very minor, but make sure you wipe off the dust and have a good look at it in the sunshine before you decide. "Then," he added for good measure, "stand and watch while it is being wrapped." Looking longingly at the perfect stacks of wares being prepared for shipping, I could appreciate Mr. Binh's problem as well as mine. But in the past, the ceramic trade was even more significant than it is today and the country was one of the largest exporters in the Asian region.

Since Hoang Quang Hung taught his skills to Troung Trung Ai, probably around 100 BC during the Chinese Han period, a time when a thick green glaze was popular, Vietnam's ceramic production has tended to parallel that of China in both form and style. This is not surprising considering their intertwined histories. But the Vietnamese students were so talented they became highly successful at directly competing against the Chinese in the export market. By the Ly Dynasty, in the late thirteenth century, exporting was firmly established. From the fourteenth to the seventeenth century much of the production went to the Middle East and Japan. The earliest export to Japan found so far, is dated at 1330 AD. The quality and type of ceramics sent overseas varied dramatically and items have been subsequently found as highly prized pieces in royal collections, tribal and family heirlooms, wall decorations and burial items. For archaeologists, the burial items are some of the best preserved and so have helped fill in the gaps in their knowledge.

With some items it is hard to determine the point of origin because styles were copied so precisely but the majority of pieces have a distinct Vietnamese identity that experts can recognize immediately. The producers had become sufficiently competent and confident to stamp their own identity on their work. For instance the blue and white wares that were so popular in the fifteenth and sixteenth century are based on classic Chinese shapes and designs but are different in feel, spirit and quality. They are far from identical copies and instead have blended and adapted the Chinese style into their own. The favorite items made included a wide range of products from bottles, jars, dishes, plates, bowls, covered boxes, kendis, jarlets, zoomorphic water droppers to miniatures. Glazed tiles became very popular as wall decorations and covered boxes were created for the Indonesian market. This was the heyday of Vietnamese ceramic exports; by the seventeenth century, China dominated the international trade and Japan was producing items for export to Europe.

During the seven centuries Vietnam was a major ceramic producer in Asia, there are six distinctive periods and certain pieces for which they have remained famous. Hollow wall tiles are one of these and animal designs often featuring birds or fish is another, but perhaps the most popular still are the pouring vessels made into animal shapes. These are a Vietnamese specialty and reflect a sense of humor and fun as well as great artistic ability that is so much a part of the people's character. While Vietnam is no longer the largest exporting country for ceramics, its industry is still very vital and there are a number of active centers around the country. Traditional time-honored techniques are still used in many villages and so a visit to a ceramic center is like a window into the past. Both Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh each have an active center lying just outside their boundaries, making a visit an easy and fascinating travel option.

From Hanoi, the village of Bat Trang is just six miles downriver to the southeast. It is a compact village where tiny alleyways lead past tall brick walls. Round, thick black discs can be seen plastered against the brick. Close examination shows they are coal pats drying in the sun, an essential ingredient in the firing process. Off the main road, the alleys are deeply rutted as heavily laden carts swing by carrying loads of huge finished pots. Here traditional techniques and designs are blended with new ideas, glazes and patterns. These kilns were producing at least as long ago as the sixteenth century and maybe even beyond that. Another large producer in the area currently are the porcelain factories of Hai Duong about 30 miles east of Hanoi. Now a provincial capital, it is located in a strategic geographic position and being on the summit of a delta is an ideal trading location.

From Ho Chi Minh City, the area of Song Be is a popular half-day trip to visit some of the many scattered factories. It is also possible to purchase direct from the producer there as well as see the pieces being made.

A White Elephant

Having a little spare time in Ho Chi Minh City, it was to Song Be that we decided to venture to observe exactly how objects such as the ceramic elephants can be produced by hand, and yet be so perfect.

Fine white kaolin is the preferred type of clay and rather than throwing it onto a wheel to turn into a pot, it goes through quite a different production process. The clay is mixed with water and kept in a large pit, about thigh-deep. Its opaque, gooey mixture looks rather like a vast vat of something that would be more appropriate in an expensive beauty clinic than a pottery factory. The mental comparison made me smile as a fit young Vietnamese man with strong slender legs hopped straight into the pit and proceeded to energetically knead the mixture with his legs. He had fine unblemished, although sun-kissed, skin. Of course, it may have been coincidence but I couldn't help wondering if there could be a side business here in selling bulk quantities of facial masque. Unfortunately I did not have an empty jar on me and so missed my chances for home experimentation and perhaps entrepreneurial expansion.

Turning back to the process Mr. Binh, the manager, was explaining to us, I watched as a bucket of this smooth paste was quickly carried down a row of matching pottery urns. At first I thought these were part of the finished product, coarse and not yet cleaned, but the bucket stopped at one and was poured into the top. What I was looking at was not the final product, but thick molds sitting row after identical row, in the sun. "We fill each with this thin, watery clay mixture and then we leave them for several days. Exactly how many days depends on the weather and the needed thickness of the finished product," said Mr. Binh. "After that a small hole is made near the bottom of the mold and the runny fluid inside drains away. Just a thin coating of clay is left on the inner walls of the mold having set in the heat of the sun."

Later the two sides of the mold are carefully prized away and the beginning of the final product is now visible. But it still has a long way to go before it is one of the gleaming shiny items sitting in the showroom. If it is a simple product, it may just be smoothed down, painted and then placed in the kiln. We watched as one of the large round urns was put on a wheel. It was gently turned by the man's foot as he smoothed the mold markings off and made the piece slightly finer and added a little decoration.

Not all pieces can be made this way. Many are not round, such as the ones I had come to see being made, the ceramic elephants. These require a different step in their manufacture. Mr. Binh led me over to the center of the factory area and picked up a piece of soft, flexible rubber about six by eight inches. On it was an intricate raised pattern. Still unclear, I watched as one of the workers, Mai, pressed it gently onto the still soft clay sides of a ceramic elephant. The rubber had been brushed with a purple dye and left a patterned imprint to be used as a guide when lightly carving the decorative lines into the clay. Quickly and smoothly Mai's hands lightly followed the purple traces she had neatly placed there, removing each line to an even depth. She paused to look up at us. Now I began to realize how each hand-made product could be turned out so quickly and with such precision. Smiling she gestured to us to try it for ourselves. We did and soon got the hang of just how much pressure to use as we guided the tool along the colored lines. Thankful I hadn't ruined what was already looking like a beautiful object, I handed the tool back to more skilled and practiced hands.

Each stage of production was visible in the long warehouse and as we moved toward the end, past rows of pastel painted pots, waiting for the firing to bring out their colors, masses of heavy brickwork loomed in front of us. The kilns were impressive. Row after row of high arches stood there, and above each, a tier of bricks headed further skywards culminating at the chimney. The rooms were high to accommodate the height of the kilns and cobwebs, dark with accumulated years of dust and ash, crisscrossed the beams above them, adding age to the already well-used looking kilns. Our visit was in April and I was rather glad we had come at a time when the kilns were not fired up as I could imagine the immense heat radiating out from them. Warm and cozy from a distance on a wintry Minnesota day perhaps, but far from comfortable for a yet-to-be-perfectly-climate-adjusted tourist in the heat of Ho Chi Minh, I thought.

Looking at the odd-shaped horses, urns and elephants that made up the bottom row, I began to realize the great skills that must be involved in working out how to stack the kiln to the maximum advantage and yet still have perfectly fired products emerging afterward. It made me appreciate why the archaeologists spent so much time examining antiques for the fine stacking marks that help reveal where the product was produced.

After a fascinating hour and a half of wandering, I found myself settling into the couch of the showroom, sipping tea and breaking my own rules of traveling--buying a hard-to-carry white ceramic elephant.

Published on 8/1/97