Despite efforts to recreate a Western subject, traces of a lack of proficiency in Western techniques remain pronounced in all of these porcelain artworks. The use of soft stippling to achieve enamel shadings and abundant blank space to depict the figures’ bodies evokes a sense of lightness commonly seen in Chinese ink and wash paintings, yet this omits complex muscle textures and weakens the tonalities of human flesh if judged by Western standards. Figures also display elongated arms and shrunken legs, not to mention the unbalanced contour of Hera, whose weight rests on her right leg in what appears to be a dramatic yet unnatural contrapposto. More striking are the stiff stripes on Athena’s back, which are perhaps abdominal muscles mistakenly depicted in place of dorsal muscles.
The poor anatomy possibly is a result of Chinese artists’ inexperience in Western art forms. It is also plausible, though, that the Western originals received by the Chinese were only inexpensive prints of unimpressive quality and caused artists’ misreading. Besides, the painting may not even have aimed at completely imitating the Western style—the broad cyan brushwork tinting the background greenery and the drapery’s thick curvatures manifest a strong, intentional presence of Chinese aesthetics. Whether regarding this as stylistic blending or aesthetic discordance, it is, nevertheless, clear that the medium of enameled porcelain itself and the exotic feel the medium carries were European clients’ true priorities.
At the Crossroads of East and West
As one can see, recounting the story of these Qing-dynasty porcelain pieces, whether the one in Guangzhou or around the world, can be a difficult endeavor: from being finished in a Cantonese workshop to being stored in a European merchant vessel’s hold to being filled with drinks and handled by guests at 18th-century dinner parties, and ultimately to where it now stands. Whether any single exhibition space in the modern day can exhaustively inform its audience of this cross-continental odyssey, as it seems, is greatly uncertain. What is certain, however, is that the separation between East and West—at least in the history of art—may not be as large as one might think.
Author’s bio:
Yi Xin grew up in Beijing and is currently a senior at Beijing Huijia Private School. As a passionate art history student, he is also enthralled by Classics, architecture, and philosophy. If not tirelessly traveling in the streets of Athens, Florence, and Beijing, you’ll oftentimes find him wandering in the historical and literary realms of these fabulous cities.