Friendship, Network, and Self-Fashioning in Cao Zaikui’s Catalogue of Ancient Bronzes

A finalist paper in the inaugural Susan Chen Foundation & Orientations Young Art Writers Award 2024.

Antiquarianism (jinshixue) established itself as a respected academic discipline in the Song dynasty (960–1279) and gained significant prominence in the 19th century. Following the reign of the emperor Jiaqing (1796–1820), more scholars collected and published bronze and stone inscriptions to verify and supplement classical and historical records found in transmitted texts. This surge of interest was greatly facilitated by the growing interconnected scholarly networks, which fostered exchange of ideas and provided greater accessibility to antiquities (Bai, 2010, pp. 305–6). Consequently, a 19th-century catalogue of ancient bronzes served not only as a documentation of scholarly collection but also as an important means to commemorate or enhance one’s social and cultural connections. The dual function of such catalogues is compellingly illustrated through the Huai Mi shanfang jijin tu (Illustrations of Bronzes in the Mountain House in Honor of Mi Fu, henceforth Huai Mi) (fig. 1), complied in 1839 by the Suzhou collector Cao Zaikui (1782–c. 1852). By strategically selecting the paratextual elements in his catalogue, such as prefaces, postscripts, and comments, Cao effectively transformed Huai Mi into a vehicle for self-fashioning. Through these paratextual notes, Cao further positioned himself, despite being a less influential collector, within the esteemed academic network in the Jiangnan region, which centred around the eminent scholar Ruan Yuan (1764–1849).

Of all the Qing-dynasty (1644–1911) scholars who published important bronze catalogues, Cao Zaikui is perhaps the most enigmatic. He piques our curiosity about his life and personality, whereas his absence from prominent academic circles and the political arena has made it challenging to preserve substantial biographical details, up to the present day. From the fragments of surviving accounts, we know that Cao was a native of Suzhou, a city in Jiangsu province, in the prosperous Jiangnan region. Besides ancient bronzes, he was also an avid collector of stones, paintings, and calligraphy. Although detailed facts about his life are scarce, what remains certainly does leave an impression. The late-Qing antiquarian scholar Chen Jieqi (1813–84) once wrote:

Mr. Cao is such a shallow and rude person that not a single man of letters would want to associate with him. However, he does possess a sizable collection of ancient bronzes. The tracing and carving [in his catalogue] are also precise and aesthetically appealing. (Zhang and Wu, 2019, p. 323, translated by the author)

1
Qihou *lei* vessel, depicted in Huai Mi Shanfang jijintu
Albums of rubbings; (opened) height 31.8 x width 32.2 cm
Fung Ping Shan Library, University of Hong Kong
After Cao Zaikui, 1839, vol. 2

While Chen Jieqi appreciated the quality of Cao’s catalogue and collection, he, along with other antiquarians, appeared to resent Cao’s personality. It was likely that Cao’s disagreeable personality led to his exclusion from the established scholarly networks, despite owning one of the finest collections of ancient bronzes in the Jiangnan region (Rong, 1941, p. 248). In response to this, Cao sought to refashion his identity through the production of his catalogue, presenting his personal network as being of equal value to the antiquities he collected.

To initiate such a discussion, it is crucial to first clarify the form and editions of Cao’s catalogue. The two-volume catalogue, known as Huai Mi, records sixty bronze vessels from Cao’s collection. Each entry consists of a drawing of the vessel alongside a verbatim tracing of the archaic inscription, accompanied by a transcription in standard script (fig. 1). The catalogue is in fact two albums of rubbings: the texts and illustrations were first carved onto rectangular stone slabs; ink rubbings were then taken from the slabs to be bound into albums. Rubbings then were taken from the stones and bound into book format. Currently, two surviving editions are kept in the Fung Ping Shan Library at the University of Hong Kong and the Fu Ssu-nien Library at the Academia Sinica in Taipei respectively. The Taipei version (c. autumn 1840) is a later edition that includes supplementary carvings that are not present in the earlier Hong Kong version (1839). The discrepancies between the two editions reveal how Cao actively shaped his authorial identity through the editing process of his catalogue after its initial compilation.

2
Huanzi Mengjiang hu (Qihou *lei*)
China; late 6th century BCE
Bronze; height 32.1 x width 18.6 cm
Shanghai Museum
After Shanghai Museum, 1964, pl. 75

Among the sixty bronze vessels documented in this catalogue, the pièces de résistance is no doubt the Qihou lei (now known as the Huanzi Mengjiang hu-jar), datable to the late 6th century BCE in the Spring and Autumn period (770–476 BCE). This vessel contains a remarkable 143-character inscription that recounts the morning ritual of the Marquis of Qi following the death of his son-in-law (figs 1–2). In addition to the one in Cao’s collection, another Qihou lei unearthed during the mid-Qing belonged to Ruan Yuan. Both vessels gained recognition within scholarly circles as Ruan wholeheartedly advocated for the historical and lexicographical significance of these vessels. After retiring from his official position as a grand secretary in Beijing, Ruan moved to Yangzhou and hosted many elegant gatherings (yaji) at his residence to study the inscription of his Qihou lei.

After comparing the rubbings of the inscriptions taken from both Qihou lei vessels, Ruan wrote a letter to Cao in 1840 to address his new discoveries. Cao included the complete letter into the later edition of his catalogue, which can be found in the Taipei version (fig. 3) but is absent from the Hong Kong edition. Ruan, a notable patron of classical learning who held prominent provincial and capital positions, served as an exemplar for the type of scholars whose prestige Cao undoubtedly aspired to attain. Ruan’s letter, written in vibrant running script, asserts the authenticity of both Qihou lei vessels despite slight variations in their inscriptions. He further elucidated the process of inscription making, suggesting that the characters on the archaic bronzes were initially written onto a wooden block, then cut or engraved in relief. A slab of wax was subsequently pressed onto the relief surface, and this in turn gave characters in intaglio that resemble how they would appear on the cast bronzes. Ruan Yuan emphasized the involvement of multiple individuals in the process of bronze fabrication, which accounts for the discrepancies in the inscriptions on the two Qihou lei vessels. While Ruan mistakenly described the relief/intaglio process in a reversed manner, he was arguably one of the first scholars who grappled with the technical aspects of inscription making. By including Ruan’s letter, Cao not only affirmed the authenticity and importance of his own Qihou lei but also showcased his association with Ruan, the greatest antiquarian of their time.

Ironically, despite being one of the owners of these two bronzes, Cao found himself excluded from the surging academic discussions surrounding the Qihou lei inscriptions. At the time when Cao was compiling his catalogue, Ruan hosted at least four scholarly gatherings (in 1838, 1839, 1842, and 1843 respectively) to investigate and appreciate his own Qihou lei. Many of Ruan’s friends who were major collectors of bronzes attended these events, yet Cao was never extended an invitation. While scholars in Ruan’s circle immersed themselves in prolific writings on this subject, Cao remained conspicuously silent. However, through skillfully curating his catalogue, Cao managed to position himself as a member within Ruan’s circle. He sought to establish connections, more solid on paper than in real life, with distinguished scholars from Ruan’s coterie by commissioning them to write prefaces, postscripts, and commentaries for his catalogue.

Now let us turn to another remarkable object in Cao’s collection: the Gebo gui-tureen (also known as the Pengsheng gui). The vessel was commissioned in the middle Western Zhou period (c. 1046–771 BCE) by Pengsheng to commemorate the land he exchanged with the Earl of Ge. In the first half of the 19th century, four Gebo gui vessels were known to exist, and one of them belonged to none other than Ruan Yuan as well. Scholars studied these vessels by comparing the rubbings of their inscriptions. Cao’s gui was viewed with skepticism initially as it bears a shorter inscription compared to the other three vessels, leading some to question its authenticity.

In response to the doubts surrounding the authenticity of his gui vessel, Cao took steps to address this issue by incorporating two commentaries into his catalogue. Zhu Shanqi’s (1800–55) commentary was added alongside the facsimile of the vessel’s inscription (figs 4–5). In the writing, Zhu first admitted to harboring suspicions about the veracity of Cao’s gui. However, after examining the vessel in person, Zhu affirmed its authenticity, stating that ‘the vessel is solid and heavy, with its body and squared base cast from a singular mold. The characters exhibit an archaic style that confirms the vessel’s authenticity. It is inconceivable for the object to be a forgery.’ The other commentary, authored by Ye Zhishen (1799–1863), can also be found in the Taipei edition of the catalogue (figs 6–7). Ye astutely pointed out that vessels commissioned by a singular individual might possess slight variations in their inscriptions, a common occurrence in such bronzes. Regarding the authenticity of Cao’s gui, Ye simply remarked that ‘the writing style is archaic and refined, making it implausible for the vessel to be forged by a contemporary craftsman.’

In validating the authenticity of Cao’s gui vessel, the discussion of each writer is largely concerned with generalities. No specific criteria or rules for evaluations are addressed. For example, both Zhu and Ye asserted that the style of the inscription is archaic, yet neither specified the particular characteristics that give them ancient appearance. It seems that in Cao’s case, as well as in the early-19th-century academic environment in general, authenticity was not necessarily rooted in the objective observations and systematic analyses of the objects per se. Instead, it mostly relied on the subjective opinions of other scholars. It was not until the mid-19th century that scholars like Chen Jieqi began to seriously address the issue of fraudulent bronze inscriptions by methodically studying their epigraphical style and material properties (Barnard, 1968, pp. 127–28). With the benefit of hindsight, we now know that Zhu and Ye, the two reviewers of Cao’s gui, were themselves unable to distinguish between the fake and the genuine objects. They included a significant number of forgeries in their own catalogues, particularly the fake bronzes produced by forgers in Shaanxi province (Rong, 1941, pp. 209–12). Nonetheless, both Zhu and Ye were renowned scholars of their time and belonged to Ruan Yuan’s circle. By displaying favorable peer reviews, Cao validated the authenticity of his gui vessel and portrayed himself as a member of the respected academic circle, even though he was never granted actual acceptance.

In the process of compiling his catalogue, Cao attempted to solidify his scholarly relationship with reputable figures at almost every juncture. Prior to finalizing the catalogue into book format, he shared a draft version with Zhang Tingji (1768–1848), an eminent calligrapher and epigraphist, in exchange for a preface (fig. 8). Zhang was a close friend of Ruan Yuan and was honored to attend Ruan’s 80th birthday celebration in April 1843. His preface for Cao’s catalogue, written in standard script, reveals his interests in early bronze and stone inscriptions. The contrast between the thick, ink-laden oblique strokes and the thinner, upright brushwork evokes the weathered appearance of characters carved on ancient stelae. Zhang compares Cao’s catalogue with two exemplary works of Song-dynasty antiquarianism—Xue Shanggong’s (act. 12th century) Lidai zhongding yiqi kuanshi fatie (Model Letters of Ancient Inscriptions on Bronze Vessels) and Liu Chang’s (1019–1068) now-lost Xianqin guqi tu (Illustrated Catalogue of Ancient Vessels from the Pre-Qin Periods). Both works were in the form of stone carvings. According to Zhang, Xue’s catalogue exhibits slender and weak strokes; Liu’s catalogue, although better carved, only includes twelve bronzes. Therefore, in Zhang’s opinion, both works are inferior to Cao’s Huai Mi catalogue.

Such encomiums were also written by Ruan Yuan’s protégé Wu Rongguang (1773–1843) (fig. 6) and lesser-known scholars such as Shi Nanjin and Xu Mao. Shi and Xu both put Huai Mi on par with the grand Northern Song (960–1127) compendium Xuanhe bogutu (Illustrated Antiquities from the Xuanhe Hall, henceforth Bogu tu), which documented the emperor Huizong’s (r. 1100–26) enormous bronze collection. A comparison between Huai Mi and Bogu tu is necessary here to demonstrate how Huai Mi surpasses the Song style. In one entry featuring a bronze bell (fig. 9), the Bogu tu presents a hand-drawn copy of the vessel’s inscription. The characters appear distorted, with strokes terminating abruptly in sharp, pointed ends. The illustration is more diagrammatic than representational, portraying a general type instead of a specific object. In contrast, Cao’s Huai Mi illustrates a similar bell, the Zougong Keng zhong-bell from the late Spring and Autumn period (fig. 10). The inscription, faithfully represented, was traced directly from rubbings, a technique pioneered by Ruan Yuan in the late 18th century (Lawton, 1995, p. 8). The line-drawn illustration captures the bulging surfaces of the bell and its intricately intertwined dragon décor with remarkable precision, showcasing meticulous attention to detail and individualized features of the object.

In addition to its impressive precision, Huai Mi also succeeded in forging a closer connection between texts and images. Typically, inscriptions on ancient bronze bells are displayed separately on the central framed panels (zheng) and the side strike areas (sui). However, in Bogu tu, the facsimile of the inscription compromises the original arrangement by clustering the characters together in a rectangular block format. Here, the pursuit of visual coherency and clear division between text and image took precedence over accurately representing the formal arrangement of the texts. Huai Mi, by comparison, organizes the inscriptions into three sections, each corresponding to its original placement on the bell. In each entry, the leftmost line of textual description above the line-drawn illustration is dedicated to describing the precise location of the inscription, an unprecedented endeavour to put the characters back in situ. Therefore, the inscriptions featured in Huai Mi are no longer isolated texts or abstract words. They were attached to the objects, to better acquire a form and become palpable.

Cao’s decision to both adopt and transcend the format of Song dynasty scholarship, as evident in the meticulous transmission of texts and images in his catalogue, allowed him to place himself among the scholars of evidential research (kaozheng), a flourishing academic trend in the 19th century which stressed the significance of philological methods based on text-based and object-based analysis (Elman, 1984). By incorporating the encomiums from famous scholars like Zhang Tingji and Wu Rongguang, Cao highlighted the merits of his catalogue as compared to the Song dynasty ones and meanwhile fashioned himself as an evidential scholar who prioritized accurate reproductions of ancient inscriptions.

9
Zhou Qihou *zhong* no.1, depicted in *Xuanhe bogutulu*
Block print
Harvard-Yenching Library, Harvard University
After Wang Fu et al., 1107–23, vol. 22, p. 11

It is important to note that Cao Zaikui’s catalogue comprises rubbing iterations taken from carved stone slabs that were mounted on the walls of his Suzhou residence. Similar to many other antiquarian scholars of his time, Cao would also host elegant gatherings at his residence where he showcases his collection alongside these carved stones. However, the guest list for these events was very possibly limited to lesser-known scholars such as Wang Zaixi, Zheng Guoji, and Bei Yong (1780–1846). They attended the gatherings and left brief remarks on their viewing experiences of Huai Mi to commemorate the events and celebrate their community (fig. 7). Unfortunately, the carved stones—the original format of Huai Mi—were destroyed during the upheaval of the Taiping rebellion (1850–64), a civil war between the Manchu rulers and the Taiping army. Despite this loss, Huai Mi retained a distinct popularity that endured long after Cao’s passing. It was reproduced twice posthumously and even made an impact overseas. In 1882, a woodblock-printed version was published by the Japanese publisher Kitamura Shirobē through his Bunsekidō (Studio of Letter and Stone) press in Kyoto. Four decades later, a photolithographic version was published in 1922 in China by Chen Naiqian (1896–1971), a bibliographer from Haining, in Zhejiang province. The replicas of the now-lost original stones were later commissioned by another Suzhou collector named Bian Zhongming in the early 20th century and are currently displayed at the Changshu Museum of Stelae in Jiangsu province.

The enduring popularity of Cao’s catalogue can be attributed not only to its exceptional quality but also to the scholarly network it seemingly portrayed. By mailing his catalogues and ink rubbings to scholars, Cao gathered their written responses and prominently displayed them in Huai Mi. This crafted an image that he was well-connected, with prestigious evidential scholars like Ruan Yuan, Zhang Tingji, Wu Rongguang, and Ye Zhishen all being his virtual guests. A closer examination of Huai Mi thus reveals that, in reality, Cao was a collector notably excluded from major scholarly networks, while on paper, he fashioned himself as someone who befriended the most influential luminaries of the time through catalogue compiling. Therefore, a 19th-century catalogue of bronzes can be seen not only as an inventory of scholarly collection but also as a platform for self-fashioning through the cultivation of intellectual connections.

Helena Chen-Abair is a PhD candidate in the Art History department at the University of Florida and a Smithsonian Predoctoral Fellow at the National Museum of Asian Art, Washington, DC (2024-25).

10
Zhougong Keng *Zhong*, depicted in *Huai Mi Shanfang jijintu*
Albums of rubbings; (opened) height 31.8 x width 32.2 cm
Fung Ping Shan Library, University of Hong Kong
After Cao Zaikui, 1839, vol. 2

Selected bibliography

Bai Qianshen, ‘Composite Rubbings in Nineteenth-Century China: The Case of Wu Dacheng (1835–1902) and His Friends’, in Wu Hung, ed., Reinventing the Past: Archaism and Antiquarianism in Chinese Art and Visual Culture, Chicago, 2010, pp. 291–320.

Noel Barnard, ‘The Incidence of Forgery Amongst Archaic Chinese Bronzes: Some Preliminary Notes’, Monumenta Serica 27 (1968): 91–168.

Cao Zaikui, Huai Mi Shanfang jijintu, Suzhou, 1839 (Fung Ping Shan Library, University of Hong Kong).

Cao Zaikui, Huai Mi Shanfang jijintu, Suzhou, 1840 (Fu Suu-nien Library, Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, Taipei).

Benjamin Elman, From Philosophy to Philology: Intellectual and Social Aspects of Change in Late Imperial China, Cambridge, 1984.

Thomas Lawton, ‘Rubbings of Chinese Bronzes’, Bulletin of the Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities 67 (1995): pp. 7–48.

Rong Geng, Shangzhou yiqi tongkao, Beijing, 1941.

Shanghai Museum, Shanghai bowuguan cang qingtongqi, Shanghai, 1964.

Wang Fu et al., Xuanhe Bogutu, Kaifeng, 1107–23, reprinted by Wu Gonghong, Boruzhai chongxiu Xuanhe bogutulu, Hangzhou, 1603.

Zhang Boying and Wu Yuanzhen, Zengbu fatie tiyao, Beijing, 2019.

Friendship, Network, and Self-Fashioning in Cao Zaikui’s Catalogue of Ancient Bronzes

Abstract Evolutions: Sixty Years of Paintings by Fong Chung-Ray

An Interview with Chris Hall