An Interview with Chris Hall
Orientations: What inspired you to begin collecting art, specifically Chinese textiles? At what age did you begin?
Chris Hall: I believe that collectors are born and that I would always have collected something. When I was a little boy, the highlight of the week was the trip to the toy shop, where I would spend my pocket money on building my collection of plastic zoo animals. These are still brought out occasionally when I have a young guest to entertain.
I was perhaps fated to collect textiles. Both of my parents liked to dress well, and I inherited their love of clothes. When my mother bought a new outfit, she would show it to the two men in her family, and they were both interested!
I returned to Hong Kong in 1978 when I was 26 years old. One day I was walking through the old Mandarin Hotel and saw Sotheby’s first exhibition of Chinese textiles. It was love at first sight. I attended the auction but bought nothing as my salary was $4,500 HKD per month. Nonetheless, that Sotheby’s viewing ignited a spark, and I began to purchase Chinese textiles.
In the 1980s I bought both Japanese and Chinese textiles. I decided to focus on Chinese textiles because I could see there was a unique opportunity to put together a great collection whereas I could not do the same with Japanese textiles. The great Japanese textile collection had already been assembled by Nomura Shojiro (1879–1943) and is now in the Tokyo National Museum, safely out of the reach of any collector. In 1980, little was known about Chinese textiles as very few were held in museum collections. Only one great collection of Chinese textiles had been put together, by Zhu Qiqian (1871–1964) in the early Republican period (1912–49), and nothing had developed since. As China opened up in the 1980s, wonderful Chinese textiles of the 17th century and earlier appeared on the market. Many of these had never been seen before and provided a great opportunity to put together an exceptional collection of Chinese textiles. Later Qing period (1644–1911) textiles also appeared in large numbers in European and American auctions. These had been acquired by foreign merchants and missionaries in China after the fall of the Qing dynasty and were now being offered for sale by family members who inherited them. Never again will so many Chinese textiles appear on the market, as did in the 1980s and 1990s.
O: What are your criteria for acquiring a new piece?
CH: I apply the ‘wah’ test (the Cantonese equivalent of ‘wow’ ). I buy a piece if it says ‘wah’ to me. To express it more analytically, the qualities I look for in a piece are rarity, beauty, condition, and age. Another crucial consideration is if I can afford a piece. In the 1980s, I could afford to buy virtually any textile offered to me. Unfortunately I am now seeing beautiful textiles that say ‘wah’ very loudly to me, but I cannot afford them because of the great increase in prices.
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Rank badge
Vietnam; 19th century
Silk embroidery; 23.5 x 26 cm
Collection of Chris Hall
Photo courtesy of Asian Civilisations Museum
O: How have your taste and preferences in textiles changed over the years?
CH: I did not plan to collect Chinese rank badges. I bought my first rank badge in 1985 (fig. 1). I thought it was a Chinese badge, from the 18th century. I was wrong on both counts. Its unusual red background subsequently showed that it was not Chinese but rather a Vietnamese badge of the 19th century. In spite of this inauspicious beginning—in fact, it was not so inauspicious, for Vietnamese badges are much rarer than Chinese badges—I continued to buy badges. A London dealer had purchased a hanging made of eleven complete Ming (1368–1644) badges, which are very rare. At the time, a museum would be pleased if it had even one Ming rank badge. The dealer put the hanging up for auction, but it did not sell. The dealer therefore telephoned me and asked if I would like to buy one or two of the badges. I surprised him by saying that I would buy the entire hanging for $35,000 USD (I even surprised myself as I had never yet spent so much on a single item). By making this single purchase, I acquired a good collection of Chinese rank badges, which started me off on collecting them seriously. I now probably have the best collection of Chinese rank badges in the world.
O: What are the three most valuable lessons you have learnt through collecting, and are they applicable to life in general?
CH: What I have learnt is how important textiles were in the past as a store of value and a display of status. The Industrial Revolution made textiles so cheap that everyone can afford to dress well. When everyone can dress smartly, one gains little prestige by doing so. For example, when I go to see my client in a restaurant, the smartly dressed man in a suit and tie is the waiter and my millionaire client is in jeans and a T-shirt. In the past, it was completely different. One’s clothes displayed one’s status, and much of the family budget was spent on clothing. Textiles were expensive because they required a huge amount of labour. For example, a silk embroidered lady’s jacket required many tasks performed by different people: growing mulberry leaves; harvesting the mulberry leaves; feeding the mulberry leaves to the silk worms; looking after the silk worms until they have spun their cocoons; killing the silk worms before the butterfly breaks out of the cocoon and damages the silk; placing the cocoons in hot water to remove the sticky gum; unwinding the cocoons; combining several individual silk filaments into silk threads; dyeing the silk threads (producing the dye was another industry in itself); weaving the threads into fabric; cutting the fabric into a jacket; embroidering the design on the jacket.
Silk cloth represented so much labour that it became a store of value and was used to pay taxes. In 1328, the Chinese government collected 655 tons of silk in taxes. Silk robes cost much more than porcelain. For example, in the late Qing, an imperial porcelain vase cost 30 to 40 tael whereas an imperial dragon robe cost 300 to 400 tael.
I have also learnt from collecting textiles that it is important to study the subject. The more one learns, the greater the pleasure. However, no matter how great one’s knowledge, no one knows everything, and it is always useful to receive advice from other people with different experience. I am very grateful to my friends who have advised me on my collection, such as Diana Collins, Jacqueline Simcox, and Jimmy Zang.
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Dragon Robe
China; 15th century
Counted-stitch silk embroidery
Height 122cm, width (from cuff to cuff) 168 cm
Collection of Chris Hall
Photo Courtesy of Asian Civilisations Museum
O: What is your favourite piece in your collection and why? Which piece do you regret acquiring and why?
CH: My favourite piece is an early 15th century dragon robe, which is probably the oldest Chinese dragon robe that has survived above ground and retained most of its original colour (fig. 2). Earlier dragon robes have been excavated, but these have turned brown and become stained. The dragons on my robe are very powerful and very finely embroidered in counted stitch (petit point); the robe has over a million stitches in it.
I first saw the robe in San Francisco; the asking price was $300,000 USD. I loved the robe but loved $300,000 USD more, as it was the price of a flat in Hong Kong and more than I could afford. However, in 1992 one of my investments matured, which led to $120,000 USD in my bank account. I offered this for the robe, and to my delight the offer was accepted.
It is much easier to list the textiles that I regret not buying than list the items I wish I hadn’t bought. It is not good to spend a lot of money on an item that turns out to be a fake. There are so many fakes on the market today that it is easy to make mistakes. If I see something good at an auction, I now assume it is a fake unless it is proved to me otherwise. Fortunately for me, most dealers would not knowingly offer me a fake as it would not be good for their reputation. I was offered a beautiful kesi (tapestry) scroll of birds and flowers with the seal of the last emperor, Puyi, woven into it (fig. 3). I was excited: an imperial piece! I bought it but later discovered that it was not an early 20th century piece but rather a 1990s copy of a tapestry in the collection of the National Palace Museum. Nonetheless, the textile represents many months of skilled labour and was sufficiently beautiful to be selected for an exhibition, until I subsequently withdrew it from the exhibition when I discovered it was a modern reproduction. It had the seals of Qianlong (1736–95), Jiaqing (1796–1820), and Xuantong (1909–11) woven into it.
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Kesi scroll
China; c. 1990s
Silk; 133 x 81 cm
Collection of Chris Hall
Photo courtesy of Derek Lin
O: How has your collection of textiles influenced your fashion and vice versa?
CH: When I go to foreign countries, I like to look at the local textile arts and buy something that I can wear. This is more difficult for a man than for a woman, for whom many pretty shawls, bags, and other accessories are made. Nonetheless I have bought ikat (tie-dyed) cloth in Bali and Japan, which I have subsequently made into shirts. My Japanese double ikat shirt is in fact the most expensive shirt I have ever bought, as the time-consuming work of double ikat at Japanese labour rates is not cheap. (For double ikat, each horizontal weft thread and vertical warp thread has to be individually dyed—first partly in one colour, which is then covered, and the remainder of the thread is dyed in a different colour—before the fabric is woven, and the separate patches of colour are carefully matched to produce a design.) When I was in Guatemala I bought two woollen sweaters that were decorated with large panels embroidered in traditional designs of the Mayans. I have also bought shirts made of fabric woven by the minority tribes in Vietnam. In Hong Kong I have my suits made by one of the few tailors who still makes his suits in Hong Kong rather than mainland China.
I love the bright colours of many textiles and regret the limited range of colours that are worn by so many men. Traditionally suits have been black, grey, or dark blue. The 21st century move to dress casually has given me an opportunity to appear in the office in a bright yellow suit, scarlet shirt, and black tie. In the 20th century this would not have been considered suitable business attire, but people find it difficult to object when I turn up in a smart suit (even if bright yellow or red in colour) (fig. 4) when other men are wearing slacks and sports shirts. I tell people I am on a one-man campaign to restore the natural order because in nature the male of the species is much more magnificently adorned than the female. Just as the peacock outshines the peahen, I try to do the same.
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Chris Hall at an exhibition of paintings by Miranda Yiu
O: What is your most recent purchase, and what were your reasons for its acquisition?
CH: A recent purchase was a surcoat for a Manchu court lady (fig. 5). I bought it because it dates to the Qianlong period. Not many robes have survived with their original tailoring from the 18th century, and this is the oldest surcoat in my collection. What is spectacular about the robe is that the embroidery is double-sided: it is not only embroidered on the front but also embroidered on the inside.
The robe appeared for auction in an unusual place: Texas. This presented me with a problem as the auction was online, and I am no good with computers. The problem with online auctions is that if someone makes a bid in the last few seconds, the auction is extended by another five minutes to give the other bidders a chance to make extra bids. Consequently an online auction can continue for twenty to thirty minutes after the original deadline. During this time the deadlines for subsequent lots expire. Consequently while you are focussing, for example, on Lot 23, someone else may outbid you on Lot 27, and the deadline for that lot will expire before you discover that you have been outbid. Dealing with this was beyond my meagre computer skills. I realized I needed help, preferably from some of my younger friends who have more expertise with computers. However, the Texas auction took place from 10:30 to 12:30 at night. How would I persuade my friends to stay up this late? The answer was a champagne party. My young friends willingly accepted the invitation to dinner and champagne and brought their laptops with them. They enjoyed the excitement of the auction without the painful experience of having to pay for the items the following day. With their help I was able to buy the surcoat and several other items as well.
O: Your textile collection spans a range of time periods, from 500 BCE to contemporary works. From what particular time period would you like to acquire more pieces?
CH: I presently have very few 21st century items, so I would like to buy more contemporary textiles—but not fakes. I would also like to buy more Southern Song (1127–1279) textiles, but this will be very difficult. The hot, humid climate of southern China destroys textiles at a much faster rate than the cold, dry climate of northern and western China, so unfortunately very few textiles of the Southern Song have survived. The textiles of the Jin dynasty (contemporary with Southern Song) are much more plentiful, as they have survived in the deserts of northern China and the monastery treasuries of Tibet.
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Surcoat
China; Qianlong period (1736–95)
Silk embroidery; height 143 cm, width (from cuff to cuff) 175 cm
Collection of Chris Hall
O: You mentioned in previous interviews that you are in negotiations with the Hong Kong Palace Museum to donate your collection and perhaps even your apartment. What are the considerations in planning your legacy?
CH: My plan has long been to donate my collection of Chinese textiles to a museum in a Chinese city. Silk is one of China’s great contributions to world civilization, but comparatively little of it has been preserved in Chinese museums. I have lived in Hong Kong for over fifty years, so, even though I am a foreigner, my first loyalty is to Hong Kong. It will therefore give me pleasure if my collection finds a final resting place in Hong Kong, especially as the city has done so much to develop China’s textile industry.
Hong Kong has been preserving some of its old buildings. One can admire the architecture, but the rooms have not retained their original interiors, the decorations that brought them alive. In Britain, the interiors of many buildings have been preserved by the National Trust. Unfortunately Hong Kong has not yet developed a similar institution. I would therefore like to donate my flat and its contents to the people of Hong Kong so that future citizens can see what one early 21st century interior looked like. My flat is full of antiques from East and West that cannot be seen in Hong Kong museums but can be seen in my home, in a domestic environment.
O: How would you like to be remembered as a collector?
CH: I would like to be remembered for my collection, as it is my life’s work. I have had fun forming the collection. I hope other people will have fun looking at it in the future. Also, Chinese culture is one of the great cultures of the world, but it is not often appreciated outside China. Many people want to emigrate to the United States or the United Kingdom, but very few foreigners want to emigrate to China. China’s soft power has not been as effective as that of the US and Hollywood. If I can remind China and the world of the great achievements of Chinese silk and Chinese textile workers, I can a little redress the imbalance.
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