Pursuing the Aesthetic: An Interview with Lee Min-te and Patty Liu
In October 2012, Taiwan’s Ching Wan Society marked its 20th anniversary with an exhibition of bronzes, porcelain, paintings and works of art selected from the collection of its members at the National Museum of History, Taipei (see Hsiung Yi-Ching, ‘The Ching Wan Society: Twentieth Anniversary Reflections, Orientations, October 2012, pp. 85–89). The objects shown included works owned by Lee Min-te, who collects Chinese ceramics and works of art, and his wife Patty Liu, who is interested in Chinese 20th century and contemporary paintings. Orientations visited Lee and Liu at their home in Taichung to talk about their collecting journey.
Orientations When did you start collecting?
Lee Min-te In the late 1980s. At first, I bought anything beautiful that caught my eye. Later on, I started to focus on ceramics. I felt there was a lower risk of purchasing fake pieces, as there are so many extant examples for comparison. My collection now comprises some three hundred pieces, of which about half are ceramics. After I joined the Ching Wan Society in 1997, I was influenced by fellow members and branched out into other categories. Patty started collecting around the same time as me, so we embarked on this journey together.
Patty Liu I began with 20th century works by artists like Zao Wou-ki [Zhao Wuji] and Lin Fengmian. For me, paintings are easier to relate to. The feeling is immediate—you either like it or you don’t. And there were fewer issues with authenticity in those days.
(From left) Lee Min-te, Geng Baochang, Chen Huasha and Patty Liu
O How do such issues affect your approach to collecting today?
PL I am more casual in my collecting and am not so concerned with developing a series, although I prefer works that show the literati tradition. I am focusing more on contemporary works than 20th century masters. Right now, I like several artists from China, because their concept is based on Chinese traditions such as the written word, as seen in Xu Bing’s work, for instance. When I visited New York in 2000, I saw an exhibition of Xu Bing, Cai Guoqiang and Zeng Fanzhi, and I was most drawn to Xu’s work. I am also a fan of Liu Guosong and Liu Dan.
O Mr Lee, what is it that particularly interests you about ceramics?
LM Ceramics are an indicator not only of China’s cultural advancement but also of its technological advancement. The process of making ceramics is not purely art; it is a feat to turn pottery into porcelain, and only China had the knowhow to do so before the early 18th century. My interest in this might also be related to the fact that I studied chemical engineering at university.
O Given that, one might have expected that archaic bronze production would be of greater interest to you—added to the fact that your family has been in the steel production business for more than sixty years.
LM I do have a high regard for bronze production, and I do collect bronzes as well. But one of the things that has always fascinated me about ceramics is that they have been exported around the world for centuries, so they are truly promoters of Chinese culture and tradition. By contrast, other early civilizations outside China had bronze technology as well; moreover, early Chinese bronzes were mostly made for specific ritualistic purposes, and would not have been exported elsewhere. Although I like bronzes very much and collect them, there are fewer pieces available at auctions and there are more restrictions on their sale, so they’re more difficult to buy.
Bodhisattva
China, Song dynasty (960–1279)
Wood; height 91.5 cm
Peidetang Collection
(Image courtesy of Eskenazi Ltd)
O How did you learn about the works you were collecting?
LM I was fortunate to learn from a number of teachers in China. After the resumption of communications between Taiwan and China in the late 1980s, a group of about ten of us travelled to Beijing to attend the classes of some of the old curators at the Palace Museum, such as Geng Baochang and Yang Boda.
O What are the most valuable lessons you have learnt?
LM Geng taught me to live with my collection, to display the works so that I can see them every day. You can only learn so much from books and there is some knowledge you can only gain by contemplating the objects and training your eye. It could be the shape, the shade of the glaze or the nuances of the painted decoration. Hence the importance of not making mistakes! I’m fortunate that Geng has accepted my invitations to visit Taiwan every couple of years to view my collection, because he can point out whether I’ve made any errors.
O That is why you are surrounded at home by your artworks.
LM Yes, the collection overflows into our office next door!
O Which criteria do you use when choosing what to buy?
LM I believe the overall aesthetic is the most important; there should be more of a balance than there seems to be at present, with the market’s emphasis on condition. This applies to all categories, not just ceramics. For example, if you look at my Song dynasty wood sculpture, you’ll see it is missing its hands, but to me, this does not detract from its beauty. I would place far more importance on rarity than on condition. Perhaps this is thanks to Geng’s influence. I also try to buy objects with provenance. Failing that, I will request scientific testing, especially for archaic pieces, such as my Tang dynasty gold stupa, which I purchased from Anthony Lin during his first New York exhibition after leaving as chairman of Christie’s Asia.
Monk’s cap ewer and case
China, Yongle period (1402–24)
Ewer: porcelain with tianbai glaze; case: lambskin; height 19 cm, diameter of mouth19.2 cm
Peidetang Collection
O Do you regard your ceramics collection as complete, or nearing completion?
LM I believe I am approaching a series with the collection, although it cannot compare with any museum collection. In New York I recently purchased a Tang dynasty sancai figure with blue glaze; I had been looking for an object like this for more than twenty years, and have finally been able to add one to my collection. I sometimes buy objects to fill in gaps in my collection, but of course I need to like them first. For example, I quite like ceramics with a tianbai, or ‘sweet white’, glaze from the Yongle period. I have a tianbai monk’s cap ewer, purchased at Sotheby’s Hong Kong in the late 1990s. Not only does it have a Yongle mark, but it also came in its original lambskin box. Most Yongle period monk’s cap ewers do not have a Yongle mark. This piece is highly regarded by many scholars including Chen Kelun of the Shanghai Museum and Geng, who included it in the newest edition of his publication Ming Qing ciqi jianding [Ming and Qing Porcelain on Inspection, Hong Kong, 1993].
O Are there any other ceramics you’d like to mention?
LM In the late 1990s I purchased a pair of Ding ware yuhuchun that, unusually, still have their original bronze covers. I am drawn to the simple beauty of their shape. When they were shown during Ching Wan’s 20th anniversary exhibition, Geng, who is almost 90 now, clapped with delight and told me excitedly that these were the first ones he had ever seen with their original covers.
O What do you think are the biggest differences between collectors now and those in the past?
LM Many collectors nowadays tend to focus on monetary value, unlike the ‘old school’ collectors who would generally have a broader base of knowledge and a real passion for the objects. We visited Shanghai in the early 1990s to celebrate the establishment of Christie’s office with Ko Shih Ke, the son of Ko Shih Chao of the Tianminlou collection of Chinese porcelain, and Yu Chieh Chen [Y. C. Chen]. Both were well-known ceramics experts, but I had not been aware of their considerable knowledge in other areas until we visited the old Shanghai Museum and they talked us through not only the ceramics selection but also the paintings and calligraphy. They were true gentlemen, and their depth of knowledge in Chinese art had a great impact on me.
Pair of yuhuchun ping
China, Northern Song period (960–1127)
Ding ware
(Each) height 19.5 cm
Peidetang Collection
O You must have had many memorable experiences on your collecting journey. Can you share one with us?
LM When we went to France in the late 1980s, I bought a book on ceramics. I couldn’t read the text because it was in French, but I was very much attracted to one of the most unusual pieces in the book, a Chenghua period dish with splashed-blue glaze ground painted with a turquoise-green dragon. There is a comparable piece in the Freer and Sackler Galleries. A few years later, the dish from the book came up for sale at Christie’s in London with an estimate of £3,000. I finally beat Giuseppe Eskenazi with a bid of about £70,000. I later showed the dish to Geng, who said that it had actually passed through his hands when he was still an apprentice, and it was sold to a collector in Shanghai. Geng showed me his notebook from fifty years ago, which had comments about the dish and also a drawing he had made of it. I believe it’s destiny that this dish entered my collection.
I think one of my wife’s most memorable experiences is the purchase of Sanyu’s Acrobat on Horse, which has become the most widely exhibited painting from her collection.
PL Yes, and you actually preferred another work by Sanyu at the time but I insisted, even though it was pricier! Sanyu was able to express the feeling of Chinese literati painting with Western oils; and the emotion of the artist comes across, whatever subject-matter he is depicting. The first impression is very important for me—whether or not I am moved by the work, like I was with this painting.
O The process of collecting seems to have brought you both great joy.
LM I believe the end goal of life is the pursuit of happiness. We buy for aesthetic pleasure rather than with any specific goals, so our collection is quite broad. We already feel very lucky. I sometimes think, my ancestors probably never would have imagined that one of their descendants would be sitting here one day surrounded by objects from the Chinese emperors.
Acrobat on Horse
By Sanyu (1901–66), 1930s
Oil on board
Height 44.5 cm, width 38 cm
Peidetang Collection