Cultural Reflections on Porcelain in the Seventeenth-Century Netherlands - cultural_reflections-libre

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Cultural Reflections on Porcelain in the Seventeenth-Century Netherlands

Weststeijn, T.

Publication date

2014

Published in

Chinese and Japanese Porcelain for the Dutch Golden Age

Link to publication

Citation for published version (APA):

Weststeijn, T. (2014). Cultural Reflections on Porcelain in the Seventeenth-Century

Netherlands. In J. van Campen, & T. Eliens (Eds.), Chinese and Japanese Porcelain for the

Dutch Golden Age (pp. 213-229, 265-268). Rijksmuseum Amsterdam.

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One of the 17

_{century’s greatest admirers of Chinese}

porcelain was Willem Kalf (1619–1693), some of

whose paintings demonstrate meticulous attention to

its material and optical properties. His 1662 Still Life,

now in Madrid, features an extraordinary Chinese jar

with representations of the Eight Immortals (Fig. 1).

Kalf, who probably had no understanding of Taoist

iconography, may have been aware that this was not

only an exotic object but also an antiquity of sorts,

dating from a few decades earlier.

_{As its material}

constitution was still unknown at the time, he could

also have appreciated porcelain as a curious sample of

the natural world, just like decorative tableware made

from ostrich eggs or the nautilus goblets that also

feature in his work. In this painting, moreover, the

porcelain’s refl ective sheen, rendered in meticulous

detail with a scattering of dot-like highlights, is

paired with other surfaces of various degrees of

transparency: the drinking vessels, plate and

half-peeled lemon.

Besides this very sophisticated example, porcelain

features in hundreds of still lifes painted in the

Northern and Southern Netherlands in the 17

century.

_{In many cases, it may have been included}

as no more than a fi tting container for the fl owers

or foodstuffs that artists wanted to represent, but it

was also a subject in its own right among silverware,

glass, and other precious goods. Assuming from the

degree of connoisseurship that a work such as Kalf’s

implies, one would expect there to have been some

awareness among these paintings’ owners of the

origin, history, and cultural signifi cance of Chinese

rarities. As the present book clarifi es, uniquely for

the Dutch situation, porcelain – either the Chinese

original or a Dutch earthenware imitation that was

also known as porceleyn – was a standard domestic

good among all layers of society. Regardless of their

social background, many Dutch people saw and

handled it on a regular basis. Artists in particular

lavished attention on its singular optical qualities.

Moreover, potteries, especially in Delft, tried to

recreate porcelain’s surface, which implied an even

more accurate material knowledge; artisans then

decorated the imitations of Asian ceramics with

themes and styles that purportedly looked Chinese.

Even though – or perhaps because – porcelain

was a common presence in Dutch houses, it was

seldom discussed. In the light of the sheer volume

of the China trade and the ubiquity of

Chinese-style ceramics, references in literary sources are

remarkably rare. Before the letters by Father

François Xavier d’Entrecolles (1712–1722), a Jesuit

missionary who visited the kilns in Jingdezhen to

inspect the manufacturing process, European texts

gave scant attention to porcelain’s origin, material,

and shape, or to the decoration’s themes and styles.

It is understandable that the Delft potters who had

mastered ‘Chinese’ brushwork did not leave a written

record – their imitations had to pass for authentic.

Yet the contrast between the abundance of visual

material and the paucity of written sources is without

parallel in Dutch 17

_{-century culture, which was}

highly literate and developed a vibrant tradition

of artistic theory. Oil paintings are therefore the

most eloquent testimonies to the Low Countries’

fascination with porcelain.

This observation surprises all the more in light of

porcelain’s many cultural and natural-historical

associations. The artists’ interest seems to refl ect the

insight that Dutchmen handling a piece of Chinese

ceramics would be touching a sample of the most

Fig. 1

Willem Kalf (1619–1693),

Still Life with a Chinese Bowl, a Nautilus Cup and other Objects, 1662. Oil on canvas, 79.4 x 67.3 cm. Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid, inv. no. 203 (1962.10). © 2013, Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza/Photo SCALA, Florence.

Cultural refl ections on porcelain in the

17th-century Netherlands*

T H I J S W E S T S T E I J N

advanced chemical manufacturing that they would

ever come across. They would have admired how the

body, fashioned with extraordinary thinness, became

transparent, resulting in a seemingly impossible

combination of fragility and glittering hardness.

Modern science tells us that ordinary steel cannot cut

porcelain and that it is a great isolator of heat and

electrical current. In pre-modern Europe, by contrast,

porcelain was associated with magic and medicine.

Recreating it presented a serious challenge to

Dutch-trained artisans and natural philosophers. Porcelain

was thus an essential ingredient, and in material and

quantitative terms by far the most substantial one,

of the ‘Chinese century’ in the Low Countries: from

the fi rst baptism of a Chinese sailor in Middelburg in

1600, to the closing decades when the VOC reduced

its direct trading with the Middle Kingdom. These

exchanges impacted on various scholarly disciplines.

But it was the reputation of Chinese medicine,

chemistry and technical inventions that provided the

main framework for the appreciation of porcelain.

EMBLEMS AND CLASSICAL SCHOLARSHIP

Art history’s standard approach for establishing the

meaning of objects, iconography, seems inadequate

to decode the cultural associations that were

connected to porcelain in the Dutch context. First

of all, rather than the objects’ imagery, it was their

material quality that attracted artists and, probably,

buyers in general. Even emblem books, which usually

tried to identify thematic symbolism, foregrounded

porcelain’s materiality, as two of the century’s most

popular authors exemplify. Jan de Brune’s (1588–

1658) engraving (Fig. 2) shows a gentleman checking

the quality of a bowl by its sound: porcelain rings

beautifully when struck, something that no European

ceramic could do.

_{The material’s combined hardness}

and fragility could express a characteristic contrast

in the Dutch moralists’ ideology that emphasised the

transience of visible reality; Jan Luyken (1649–1712)

described the vases in his image as without real

substance, only catering ‘to the eye’s desire’ (Fig.

3).

_{In the many still lifes that depict porcelain, such}

references are usually present only implicitly: perhaps

Fig. 2

Jan de Brune, ‘Wat de man

kan, wijst zijn reden an’, engraving from Emblemata

of Zinnewerck, Amsterdam, Jan Evertsen Kloppenburch, 1636, 2nd enlarged edition. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. 328 L 3.

Fig. 3

Jan Luyken, ‘Het porseleyn’, engraving from Het leerzaam

huisraad, Amsterdam, wed. P. Arentz en K. van der Sys, 1711. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. RP-P-OB-45.671.

when combined with fresh fl owers or fruit, such as

Pieter Claesz’s (c.1597–1660) still life featuring spots

of rot on the apples in a Wanli bowl, the association

with transience was underscored (Fig. 4). Yet often

it simply seems to have been the painter’s attraction

to porcelain’s optical qualities that motivated his

choices. When a Chinese ceramic object appeared in a

more elaborate setting, such as Abraham Bloemaert’s

(1564–1651) Lot and his Daughters (Fig. 5), Jacob

Campo Weyerman (1677–1747) explained that it was

included for its visual allure; he also highlighted its

appropriateness in amorous adventures, as a gift for a

female lover.

Classical antiquity, which was the habitual basis

for learned discussions, likewise failed to provide

the right interpretive framework. Humanists were

obviously at a loss when approaching the foreign

objects from their erudite background. Around 1550

two renowned philologists, Hieronymus Cardanus

(1501–1576) and Julius Caesar Scaliger (1484–1558),

tried to relate porcelain to Pliny’s account of the

‘myrrhine vases’.

_{In the Netherlands, Johannes}

Pontanus (1571–1639) and Bernardus Paludanus

(1550–1633) took up this theme again. Pontanus,

who famously noted in Rerum et urbis Amstelodamensium

historia

(1611) that the VOC had imported so much

porcelain to Amsterdam that it seemed like an

ordinary household good, addressed the vasa myrrhina

and admitted a certain resemblance except in the

matter of colours, wherein Pliny described the beauty

and variety of hues, ‘and’, said Pontanus, ‘what Pliny

calls colours are not seen on the porcelains of our

time, which, so far as I know, have only blue mingled

with white’.

The inadequacy of emblematics and classical

scholarship to discuss the Dutch reception of Chinese

ceramics confi rms that the materiality of porcelain,

more than the shapes or decoration, conjured up

new intellectual associations through its sheen,

translucency and hardness. To understand these

we should involve the artists’ interest in materials,

in chemistry with its medical and even alchemical

associations, and in porcelain as among the exotic

creations of the natural world.

Fig. 4

Pieter Claesz (1596/97–1660),

Still Life with Turkey Pie and a Wanli Bowl, 1627. Oil on panel, 75cm × 132 cm. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. SK-A 4646.

PORCELAIN: A CREATION OF NATURE OR ART?

We may begin our analysis with Jan van Kessel’s

large series of the Four Continents (1664–1666),

which features porcelain prominently as part of an

encyclopaedic display of the world’s treasures. What

fi rst catches the eye is that Chinese ceramics do not

occur in the context of the continent of Asia, but in

relation to Africa (Figs. 6–9). The left-hand side of

this polyptych’s central panel (Fig. 8) displays a set

of related objects: a sizeable porcelain dish, a

multi-fl uted goblet in Venetian style in the foreground

and a bottle containing a bright pink liquid. The

juxtaposition of glass and porcelain may have

referenced actual European experiments in recreating

porcelain, which had initially taken place in 16

-century Italy: most of these involved glass making.

Porcelain’s transparency made potters conclude that

sand or ground glass was an essential ingredient.

Venetian studios even produced a smoky kind of glass

called porcellana contrafatta: it imitated porcelain’s

colour and sheen but none of its hardness.

_{In van}

Kessel’s composition, the putto brandishing an

alembic and a barometer may furthermore have

conjured up the association with chemistry in

general.

On the image’s right-hand side, by contrast, various

Chinese dishes are displayed among shells, gems,

and coral (Fig. 9). This ensemble seems to refer

to the etymology of the term porcelain that related

its constitution to seashells, harking back to

Marco Polo’s day when the term porcellana derived

from a type of thin white shell resembling a piglet

(porcellino).

_{This contention, which was repeated in}

travelogues up to the 17

_{century, may explain why}

van Kessel associated porcelain with Africa and its

beaches. Yet the inclusion of coral and gems refl ects

the much wider lexical fi eld that the term porcelain

could cover in early modern inventories, ranging from

Fig. 5

Abraham Bloemaert (1564–1651) (attr.), Lot and his

Daugthers. Oil on canvas, 167 x 233 cm. The Leiden Gallery, New York (private collection).

mother-of-pearl and crystal to any kind of valuable

ceramic.

In fact, the fi rst contacts between Europeans

and East Asians involved a profusion of theories

about porcelain’s origin and manufacture. They

are summed up in Thomas Browne’s (1605–1682)

widely read work of popular science, Pseudodoxia

(fi rst ed. 1646), which depended on the reports of,

among others, the Dutch explorer Jan Huygen van

Linschoten (c.1563–1611).

_{The book relates a number}

of common erroneous assumptions about porcelain,

beginning with someone who had joined Magellan’s

circumnavigation, Duarte Barbosa (c.1480–1521):

it was supposedly made from ground seashells,

eggshells, egg white and other materials that matured

for a century underground, increasing in value with

the years. According to the humanist Guido Panciroli

(1523–1599), beaten eggs and gypsum were useful

ingredients too. For a more reliable account, however,

the Pseudodoxia referred to an envoy from Batavia to

China in 1615, who identifi ed a specifi c clay from the

region of ‘Hoang’ as essential. Although he witnessed

the production with his own eyes, he found that its

details were a secret to be passed on from father to

son: porcelain was ‘made out of earth, not laid under

ground, but hardened in the Sunne and winde, [in]

the space of fourty yeeres’. Only in 1665 were the

Dutch informed in more detail on the origin and

transport of the clay, when Johan Nieuhof’s (1618–

1672) famous travelogue appeared.

If similar associations were indeed pertinent to

van Kessel’s image, it presented porcelain as both

a creation of artifi ce (related to glass making

and chemistry) and a creation of nature (among

shells, coral, and gems). This was not an incorrect

characterisation: porcelain was on the one hand the

result of the advanced stage of Chinese chemistry

and ceramic industry; on the other hand, its main

Fig. 6

Jan van Kessel (1626–1679),

The Four Continents: Africa, 1664. Oil on copper, 48.6 x 67.8 cm (central panel). Bayerische

Staatsgemäldesammlungen – Alte Pinakothek, Munich, inv. no. 1912. © bpk | Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen.

Fig. 7

Fig. 8

Detail of Fig. 6 (central panel, detail of left-hand side).

Fig. 9

Detail of Fig. 6 (central panel, detail of right-hand side).

Fig. 10

Adriaen van Utrecht (1599– 1652), Allegory of Fire, 1636. Oil on canvas, 117 x 154 cm. Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels, inv. no. 4731. © Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels, photo : J. Geleyns / Ro scan.

ingredient, kaolin, was only found in the region

of Gaoling at the time. In Europe, collections of

curiosities expressed this dual nature, as porcelain

could feature among the artifi cialia as well as the

naturalia

, something confi rmed by its presence

in depictions of galleries.

_{According to the}

classifi cations of natural philosophy, porcelain might

be associated more specifi cally with the element of

fi re: one of van Kessel’s works depicted chinaware

– or another kind of ceramic that imitated its

blue-and-white aesthetic – in relation to this element,

together with gold and silver vessels; and Adriaen van

Utrecht’s (1599–1652) painting of the same theme

(Fig. 10) featured three dishes of chine de commande.

The analogy was not without technical relevance,

as enamelling, which involved fi ring at a high

temperature, was eventually used for the decoration of

both porcelain and metalwork.

MEDICINE

The various myths regarding the origin of porcelain

also involved expectations about its purported

curative characteristics. The hygienic quality of its

impermeable surface, its origin in an unfathomable

chemical process, and the general Asian provenance

connecting porcelain to spices and tea made the

association with medicine somewhat obvious.

_A

1665 painting from the school of Gerard ter Borch

(now in the Apothecaries’ Society, Stockholm)

demonstrates how a Dutch pharmacist would line

up his pots in a row: the white ceramic’s sheen,

refl ecting associations with chemistry and perhaps

Asia, would have constituted an adequate backdrop

for the performance of medicine.

_{At least one}

Amsterdam apothecary, Jan Jacobsz Swammerdam

(1606–1678), displayed a sizeable set of Chinese

porcelain that attracted visitors even from abroad.

The Dutch had only a vague inkling of Asian medicine

at the time, but for some it seemed to suggest the

Middle Kingdom’s superiority. In 1683 the doctor

and botanist Willem ten Rhijne (1649–1700) wrote

the fi rst detailed European account of acupuncture.

This art succeeds in ‘totally removing those pains to

which the fl esh is heir’, according to the Amsterdam

humanist, Isaac Vossius (1618–1689), whose De

artibus et scientiis Sinarum

(‘On the Arts and Sciences of the

Chinese’

, 1685) also extolled Chinese knowledge on

the circulation of blood.

_{When in 1709, the Chinese}

doctor Chou Mei-Yeh visited the Netherlands in the

company of a VOC offi cial, the Amsterdam mayor

Nicolaas Witsen (1641–1717) had his pulse taken.

Witsen had a great interest in Asia: by 1670 he had

consulted another Chinese visitor for his book Noord

en Oost Tartarye

. He contacted the Chinese community

in Batavia to translate an ancient inscription from his

art collection, which in all probability also included

porcelain.

_{In any account, the reputation of Chinese}

medical knowledge seemed to confi rm the much

older suggestion, dating back to the Middle Ages,

that porcelain could have apotropaic qualities, in

particular that it would break upon coming into

contact with poison (cups were therefore set in metal

mounts).

Unsurprisingly, the aforementioned Pseudodoxia

expressed scepticism about porcelain’s alleged

properties, only admitting its benefi cial value in cases

of dysentery:

the properties must be verifi ed, which by Scaliger and others are ascribed to China-dishes: That they admit no poyson, That they strike fi re, That they will grow hot no higher then the liquor in them ariseth. For such as pass amongst us, and under the name of the fi nest, will onely strike fi re, but not discover Aconite, Mercury, or Arsenick; but may be useful in dysenteries and fl uxes beyond the other.29

The author admitted that porcelain’s failure to

demonstrate medicinal qualities might have been due

to the fact that the Chinese had severely limited the

export of their fi nest dishes. By 1723, in any event,

Weyerman held the less lofty view that porcelain

contributed to the taste of the food:

All food and drink that is served in porcelain acquires a better taste and delights the eye …. Conserves appear much shinier in a porcelain dish than in a silver one, and fruit acquires a new gloss by the porcelain’s celestial blue.30

Weyerman’s writings on China were of a satirical

nature: yet his many remarks on the medicinal

properties of Chinese imports, especially tea and

ginseng, probably refl ect beliefs widely held in the

early 18

_century.

CHEMISTRY

The range of associations connected with porcelain,

even though not always helpful, may have contributed

to the Dutch enthusiasm for its recreation. It was a

German prince who funded the solution of the ‘secret’

of making porcelain, but collectors and artisans in

the Netherlands had laid the groundwork. Various

scholars seem to have intuited correctly that the use

of specifi c clay was necessary. Indeed, Paludanus’s

scientifi c collection already contained kaolin, if we

may believe Duke Frederick I of Württemberg who

visited in 1592: inspecting ‘two chests of all sorts

of manufactured objects produced in India, China,

and both Indies’, he found the ‘clay from which

porcelain is made’.

_{Paludanus had personally met}

the Portuguese traveller Damião de Góis (1502–1574)

who had described Asian ceramics ‘made of shells

so expensive that one piece costs several slaves’, yet

the Dutchman took a critical stance and emphasised

that porcelain was merely a clay product.

_Johannes

Blaeu’s Great Atlas (1655) likewise confi rmed that, in

contrast to popular beliefs, a certain type of clay ‘very

clear and shiny like fi ne sand’ was the main ingredient

of a procedure that was otherwise kept secret.

_Yet

in their attempts to reconstruct the manufacturing

process, the Dutch failed to locate the right materials.

The VOC ultimately tried to import white clay from

South Africa, which proved inadequate;

_Weyerman,

in the early 18

_{century, still noted that kaolin was ‘as}

valuable as gold, pearls, and gems’.

_{In the end, Delft}

studios bought inferior materials from Britain and the

Spanish Netherlands to make the faience imitations

which, in order to mimic the brightness and sheen of

porcelain, had to be fi red at least twice: in addition

to a white tin glaze covering the brownish body, a

transparent lead glaze protected the decoration.

Yet mastery of these operations turned Delft into the

capital of Europe’s ceramic industry. Unsurprisingly,

two Dutch potters, Gerrit van Malsem (1682–c.1733)

and his stepfather, eventually contributed to the

solution of the secret of porcelain in 1708.

_They

had been invited to Saxony to work with the young

alchemist Johann Friedrich Böttger (1682–1719)

and the scientist Ehrenfried Walter von Tschirnhaus

(1651–1708) who was himself schooled in Leiden and

on friendly terms with eminent Dutch scholars.

Many historians have dwelled on the remarkable

story of this team’s discovery, which was both a

sophisticated feat of analytical chemistry and the

result of an alchemist’s belief in transmutation.

To relinquish the belief that glass was an essential

ingredient, Böttger’s background was essential, in

that he believed that simply by fi ring clay he could

‘transmute’ the raw material into something as

transparent and valuable as porcelain (he intuited

correctly that all clays turn vitreous once fi red at a

suffi ciently high temperature). In fact, throughout the

18

_{century porcelain makers continued to emphasise}

that mastery of the ‘arcanum’, the procedure of

porcelain manufacture, involved the broad range of

experiments associated with alchemists’ studios.

Potters’ marks, for instance, referred to the current

symbols for chemical elements; a bowl from an

18

_{-century Danish porcelain factory, inscribed with}

an epigram extolling the material’s qualities, even

depicted a Faustian fi gure in his laboratory, inspecting

a distillation vessel.

_{It is worth questioning to what}

extent the Dutch appreciation of Chinese porcelain

was inspired by a similar interest in natural-historical

experiments. The Middle Kingdom’s reputation

for alchemy had been already discussed in the early

17

_century.

_{By 1685, Vossius extolled Chinese}

chemia

(chemistry or alchemy), which he said had

been evolving for 2,000 years if not the 4,600 that

some had claimed for it, and he highlighted that it

served the pursuit of longevity.

_{In fact, one of the}

most conspicuous cultural parallels between 17

-century Europe and the Middle Kingdom was the

shared interest in alchemy. The recognition of this

parallel, however, actually hampered the exchange of

information. The Jesuits were the main agents in the

exchange of scientifi c knowledge between East and

West, and the Low Countries played an important

intermediary role by publishing and illustrating

their writings.

_{Yet the missionaries gave short}

shrift to chemistry, as they feared being associated

with alchemy, which they sought to eradicate rather

than promote as a superstitious practice.

_Thus

the situation arose that while Tschirnhaus’s group

frantically sought the formula for porcelain, of the

Europeans who could do so none simply asked

the Chinese. The Jesuits’ reticence, obviously, only

contributed to the far-fetched scientifi c expectations

that Europeans already tended to attach to porcelain.

It is diffi cult to establish how precisely these

associations contributed to artists’ interest in

porcelain. Delft was the obvious focus point:

according to Dirck van Bleijswijck (1639–1681),

‘nowhere in [the Netherlands] porcelain is made

in a more subtle or refi ned manner as in this city,

in which they appear to imitate the Chinese most

successfully’.

_{Delftware was called porceleyn}

and its dependence on Asian aesthetics was not

something to be ignored: one of the potter’s studios

was even named ‘China’.

_{It is likely that this}

industry impacted the wider art world. Painters and

potters shared a single guild and visited the same

glassmakers to buy cobalt glass, the basis for the blue

pigment of smalt. Johannes Vermeer (1632–1675)

himself, whose interest in the natural sciences,

especially optics, is increasingly being recognised,

had a demonstrable interest in Chinese ceramics.

In his Girl with Pearl Necklace (1664), a large vase

decorated in blue-and-white references authentic

Fig. 11

Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675),

Girl with Pearl Necklace, 1662–65. Oil on canvas, 56.1 x 47.4 cm. Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin. © bpk / Gemäldegalerie, SMB / Jörg P. Anders.

Fig. 12 Willem Kalf (1619–1693), 1655– 1660. Oil on canvas, 73.8 cm × 65.2 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. SK-A-199. Fig. 13 Juriaen van Streeck (1632–1687), . Oil on canvas, signed, 90.5 x 80 cm, formerly with art dealer Salomon Lilian, Amsterdam.

Chinese wares very convincingly and supports an

intricate play of refl ections (Fig. 11). The light falling

through the window on the left bounces off the girl’s

face and dress before hitting not just the mirror but

also the porcelain vase. The vase’s left-hand side,

furthermore, refl ects the second window of Vermeer’s

studio, which is to the left of the picture plane; the

porcelain’s mirroring qualities thus help to widen

the suggested space outside the frame, involving the

viewer more completely.

_{The painting is suggestive}

of the measure to which a Delft painter’s interest

in optics extended to the experiments in artisan’s

studios, attempting to recreate the refl ective qualities

of an unknown chemical substance.

One question that this association poses is whether

painters would have imitated potters in their material

experiments. One of the potters’ attempts required

mixing ground Chinese porcelain through their clays.

Replicating this procedure in oil painting would have

been at least technically possible: artists often used

silicate as a fi ller or preparatory layer. Yet this would

not have contributed to the desired optical effects, as

the refractory index of lead white (the most commonly

used white) would have been so much greater than

that of a silicate mixture. The pigment of smalt would

have presented another, perhaps more obvious,

parallel as it contained the cobalt used by both the

Chinese potters and their Delft imitators. However,

this cheap and unstable pigment seems to have been

avoided in still lifes. As Arie Wallert’s research has

revealed, depicting porcelain sometimes involved

more expensive materials. Kalf, for instance, mixed

ultramarine with verdigris to arrive at the right blue

for a Wanli bowl in one of his still lifes (the purplish

hue of the ultramarine was cooled with green) (Fig.

12). This comes as a surprise, as the cheaper azurite,

already of the desired greenish-blue colour, would

have been a logical choice.

_{Kalf may therefore}

have chosen ultramarine, which was made from

ground lapis lazuli, for its scientifi c associations. As

argued above, porcelain and gems were deemed to

be closely related as precious naturalia coming from

Asia. Representing porcelain by using ultramarine

would then have expressed a painter’s involvement

in the scientists’ search for the origins of the foreign

material.

Whereas there is little doubt that porcelain’s optical

qualities attracted masters such as Vermeer and Kalf,

the association with chemistry and alchemy (which

were not separate disciplines of knowledge at the

time) is also worth considering. On a metaphorical

level, painters sometimes thought of themselves

as alchemists and of their art as ‘transmuting’

materials into precious fi gures: this had actually been

commonplace in texts about painting since Giorgio

Vasari had attributed Jan van Eyck’s invention of

oil paint to alchemical experimentation.

_Hendrik

Goltzius’s well-documented activities as an alchemist

were even part of his artistic identity.

_{Perhaps the}

repute of Chinese alchemy, and the idea that the

manufacture of porcelain would be the outcome of

an alchemical process, contributed to the attraction

that this foreign material exerted on painters in the

oil medium. Masters who focused on representing

intricate refl ections and surface textures, harkening

back to van Eyck’s reputation, may have looked

at porcelain with similar associations in mind.

Alchemy was by no means an out-dated ambition

by the late 17

_{century; yet among some, including}

Tschirnhaus’s patron Augustus the Strong, the desire

to make gold was gradually replaced by the desire to

make porcelain.

CERAMICS AS EXOTICA

In van Kessel’s image, as we have seen, porcelain

was associated with Africa rather than Asia: this

may have been for stylistic as well as iconographic

reasons. Black people were not infrequently paired

with porcelain in Dutch art.

_{Jurriaen van Streeck}

(1632–1687), for instance, made a series of fulsome

works featuring two categories of ‘commodities’ from

the Republic’s trade: slaves, who were exported from

West Africa to the Caribbean and porcelain, which

was imported from Asia. Besides exposing the reach

of the Dutch seaborne empire, the artist seems to

have appreciated the visual contrast between the soft

darkness of the black slave’s skin and the porcelain’s

refl ective sheen (Fig. 13).

As these images suggest, the porcelain trade was a

main element of the incipient global commerce that

had one of its main hubs in the Low Countries. As

early as 1520, Albrecht Dürer acquired three pieces of

porcolana

from a Portuguese merchant in Antwerp.

Confi rming Pontanus’s statement that porcelain

featured prominently among the goods imported by

the VOC, a satirical poem by Simon van Beaumont

(1574–1654) underscores the ubiquity of goods

from the East and West in Amsterdam, describing

a rustic visitor shopping for luxury items including

‘satin, damask, Turkish carpets, Milanese

under-stockings, beautiful porcelain’, who ended up with

Fig. 12

Willem Kalf (1619–1693),

Still Life with Silver Jug and a Wanli Bowl, 1655–1660. Oil on canvas, 73.8 cm × 65.2 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. SK-A-199.

some ordinary wooden crockery.

_{Rembrandt himself}

eventually laid hands on porcelain specimens for

his collection of ‘everything that came hither from

the world’s four continents’, to quote one of his fi rst

critics.

There is no doubt that porcelain’s ubiquity in

the Dutch Republic resulted from the increased

interconnectivity in economic terms that came

with ‘First Globalisation’ (to use Geoffrey Gunn’s

phrase). When export porcelain was designed for

the European market and when the VOC provided

Chinese potters with detailed images, these works

were de facto products of the collaboration between

cultures, examples of the hybridity that typifi es the

cultural dimension of globalisation. It is, however,

open to question whether the 17

_{-century buyers}

of porcelain in the Netherlands would have been

aware of this hybridity or have evaluated it positively.

There was, after all, a prosaic reality behind the

Dutch shipments of ceramics from Asia and to the

Caribbean: crates with porcelain were included as an

adequate water-resistant, odourless ballast material.

When Dutch colonists in Suriname used tableware

in Jingdezhen style, it was probably not Chinese

civilisation that was on their minds but rather the

mercantile success of the VOC.

_{Likewise, the Dutch}

viewers of van Streeck’s works would have thought

of Dutch commercial virtues rather than of Chinese

aesthetics or African identities. This hypothesis is

confi rmed by the fact that there are no Dutch still lifes

that emphasise porcelain’s ‘Chineseness’ by depicting

it next to Asian calligraphy or books. Although, for

instance, various Dutch scholars collected Chinese

texts, and they found the inscrutable characters a

source of linguistic and philosophical speculation,

these objects never feature in paintings.

Neither did Dutch paintings show Chinese applied

art, paintings, and sculptures which, as archives

reveal, were imported alongside the spices and tea.

An initial survey of inventories of Dutch households

points out that ‘Chinesen’ – Chinese fi gures on paper

or silk, or perhaps sculptures – were not unfamiliar

decorative items.

_{The Antwerp city secretary Jacob}

Edelheer (1597–1657) even called his cabinet of

exotica a ‘Musaeum Sinense’ (Chinese Museum); in

Amsterdam, Witsen amassed a sizeable collection of

Asian art.

_{Furthermore, some of the delftware pieces}

themselves that carefully imitated and sometimes

improvised on the original themes demonstrated

that the Dutch public had become sophisticated in

its taste for things Chinese.

_{Delft ceramics, such as}

a candlestick from the pottery De Grieksche A, were

at times decorated with fake characters.

_{By the turn}

of the century, the apparently widely popular taste

for Chinese calligraphy, painting, and porcelain was

ridiculed in satirical journals such as Haagse Mercurius

and Amsterdamsche Hermes.

_{This data suggests}

that porcelain may have conjured up more general

associations than the scientifi c ones outlined above.

We may attempt to sketch this broader outlook on

the Middle Kingdom among the lettered collectors of

Chinese art.

PORCELAIN AND THE CHINESE UTOPIA

The trade in Asian goods inspired some to develop a

highly positive view of Chinese civilisation. Among

all imports, books would have been only the tip of a

far larger pyramid that included applied art, fabrics,

ceramics, spices, and tea. Even though no one except

the odd Asian visitor was able to read these texts, the

suspicion that the Chinese had older written sources

than the Europeans proved an irresistible source of

speculation to some Dutch scholars, who engaged in

Chinese chronology.

_{This topic ultimately inspired}

Vossius to doubt the validity of the biblical account,

as according to the Chinese texts, their history

spanned 5,000 years, antedating the Great Flood.

Others emphasised Chinese excellence in technical

and scientifi c discoveries, such as Ten Rhijne, who

wrote that ‘among the Chinese frequent examples

are to be found of discoveries, especially in the arts,

which other nations made independently whereas the

Chinese had come upon them long before.’

Eventually, Johannes Blaeu’s (1596–1673) work on

Europe’s fi rst detailed maps of China and Jacob

Golius’s (1596–1667) seminal attempt to print

the characters were just two expressions of an

exceptionally vivid public debate on China in the

Dutch Republic:

_{thus the fi rst European translation}

of Confucius was into Dutch (1675, by Pieter van

Hoorn) and the fi rst European tragedy set entirely in

China was Joost van den Vondel’s Zungchin (1667),

followed by Johannes Antonides van der Goes’s Trazil

(1685).

It is likely that this debate on the Middle Kingdom

was grounded implicitly on the physical presence of

Chinese material culture in Dutch households. The

interplay between material culture and intellectual

discussions comes to the fore most literally in

Vossius’s Variorum observationum liber (1685). Besides

Fig. 13

Juriaen van Streeck (1632– 1687), Still Life with a Moor. Oil on canvas, signed, 90.5 x 80 cm, formerly with art dealer Salomon Lilian, Amsterdam.

his positive accounts of Chinese medicine and

chemistry, Vossius also discussed ceramics and

their decoration, the ‘small containers and vessels’,

‘pottery dishes’, and ‘simple household wares’ that

despite being rusticus (plain, for everyday use) were

outfi tted with imagery that surpassed the Western

tradition. ‘Those who say that Chinese paintings do

not represent shadows, criticise what they actually

should have praised’, Vossius contended, arguing

at length that the draughtsmanship of the Chinese

was so much more subtle than that of the West that,

even without using strong shadows, it managed to

evoke depth and atmosphere.

_{This was, in fact, a}

unique standpoint in a European context. Previously

Matteo Ricci (1552–1610), founder of the Jesuit

mission, had criticised Chinese brushwork for its

lack of lifelikeness and his remarks were repeated by

Nieuhof, whose artist’s sensibility should have made

him a keener judge.

_{Up to the early 18}

_century,

d’Entrecolles, who had observed the hoa pei (porcelain

painters) from close up, remained extremely

dismissive of them:

save some of them, in Europe they could only pass for apprentices of a few months. The entire knowledge of these painters, and in general of all Chinese painters, is based on no principle at all and consists only in a certain routine helped by a very limited imagination.72

When an English visitor, Sir Francis Child (1641/2–

1713), saw the factories in Delft in 1697, he even

stated that the Delft potters ‘paint better than the

Chinese’ when decorating their ‘porcelain’, failing

only in imitating the thinness of the ceramic body.

In fact, Vossius’s positive statements about Chinese

ceramics and its decoration can be explained by

his more general utopian vision of China. Not only

did he state that the Chinese excelled in art and

music, literature and science, but also he saw their

civilisation as altogether superior: a realisation of a

Platonic Republic in which the Emperor responded to

the judgment of philosophers, who in turn responded

to the people. It was in all aspects a stark foil to the

European situation, which was riven by wars and

religious disagreements during Vossius’s lifetime.

This Chinese Utopia, connecting ceramics to

philosophy, foreshadowed the fashion for chinoiserie

that would evolve in the 18

_{century, up to Voltaire’s}

philosophical sinophilia: by that time, the images

on applied art, representing leisurely Chinese

in paradisiacal gardens, seemed to confi rm the

idea that these people lived happier lives than the

Europeans. In the later Dutch Republic, however,

Vossius’s Chinese preferences all but disappeared

from public debate, in tandem with a general waning

of the scholarly interest in the Middle Kingdom.

When the Amsterdam philosopher Cornelis de Pauw

(1739–1799) returned to China’s claims of scientifi c,

intellectual, and political prowess, his statements on

porcelain were negative, perhaps implicitly reacting

to Vossius. De Pauw tried to debunk European

admiration for the secret of porcelain manufacture,

about which the Chinese had kept just as silent as

they had about gunpowder.

_{He denied any relation}

to the vasa myrrhina, contrasting the Chinese wares’

low prices with the prodigious amounts mentioned by

Pliny. Ultimately he even criticised technical aspects,

stating, for instance, that a fi ring method intended to

create patterns of craquelure (called yao-pien) reduced

the decorative process to chance rather than artistic

intention.

_{De Pauw’s stance was in turn contested}

by a Chinese Jesuit, Aloysius Ko (Gao Leisi, 1734–

c.

1790), who had studied physics, chemistry, and

industrial technology in France.

One thing this fi nal controversy seems to confi rm

is the integrated nature of ideas on material culture

and on Chinese civilisation and philosophy in

general. It was only in the Dutch Republic that

imported ceramics were so ubiquitous that China

was physically present in an incontrovertible manner.

Since European reports about Chinese society could

obviously be dismissed as coloured by the translation

and transmission process, and even the images

represented on porcelain wares were distorted by the

ambition to cater to European buyers, there was but

one presence that was unmistakably Chinese: the

material itself. In Dutch households, this material

was seen and handled on a regular basis. In most

cases, this probably occurred without much thought

being given to its Asian origins; but it is nevertheless

likely that the presence of material culture must be

understood as the implicit basis for the topicality of

China in intellectual discussions. Without the many

porcelain dishes on the chimneypieces of Amsterdam,

the fi rst European translation of Confucius might well

not have been in Dutch.

Wandverkleidungen, Leipzig, 1996 (Bestandskatalog der Verwaltung der Staatl. Schlösser u. Gärten Hessen; Vol. 5), p. 72.

106. G. Riemann-Wöhlbrandt 1990 (op. cit. note 98), p. 62.

107. G. Riemann-Wöhlbrandt 1990 (op. cit. note 98), p. 61.

108. It is possible that Magdalena Wilhelmina used her links with the House of Orange to acquire porcelain. Her daughter-in-law Anna Charlotte Amalie (1710–1777) was a daughter of Prince John William Friso of Nassau-Diez.

109. R. Stratmann, ‘Wohnkultur im 18. Jahrhundert und ihr Wandel dargestellt am Beispiel des ba den-durlachischen Hofes’, Barock in

Baden-Württemberg vom Ende des dreißigjährigen Krieges bis zur Französischen Revolution, vol. 2 (cat.), Karlsruhe, 1981, pp. 277–291, 287.

110. In 1751 Charles Frederick von Baden-Durlach married Princess Caroline Louise von Hessen-Darmstadt (1723–1783).

111. R. Stratmann 1981 (op. cit. note 109), p. 287. 112. C. Bischoff, ‘Fürstliche Appartements um 1700

und ihre geschlechtsspezifi sche Nutzung’, in: M. Droste and A. Hoffmann (eds.), Wohn for men und

Lebenswelten, Frankfurt, 2004, pp. 67–79.

Chapter 11 Porcelain in the interior

1. For this chapter I am indebted to Suzanne Limburg for her MA thesis, Porcelein in het interieur

in de 17de en 18de eeuw, 2005, Leiden University, History of Art, supervised by Prof. Dr. C. W. Fock and Prof. Dr. C. J. A. Jörg. Limburg analyses a great number of inventories. We are most grateful for her permission to use her thesis for this publication.

2. For this information I am extremely grateful to Adri van der Meulen and Paul Smeele. Gemeentearchief Rotterdam, Weeskamer archive, inv. no. 364, 17 October 1597, f. 202 ff., porcelain on f. 221 (Joris Joosten de Vlaming); inv. no. 368, 12 March 1601, f. 205 ff., porcelain on f. 215 (Aeltje Cornelis); inv. no. 370, 13 May 1602, f. 211 ff., porcelain on f. 221 (Jan Jansz).

3. S. Ostkamp, ‘De introductie van porselein in de Nederlanden’, Vormen uit Vuur 180/181 (2003/1–2), pp. 17–18, and his Chapter 4 of this book. 4. S. Limburg 2005 (op. cit. note 1), p. 22.

Stadsarchief Amsterdam, entry number 1468, not inventoried.

5. S. Limburg 2005 (op. cit. note 1), inventory published in Th. H. Lunsingh Scheurleer, C. W. Fock and A. J. van Dissel, Het Rapenburg;

geschiedenis van een Leidse gracht, Leiden, 1986– 1992, Part IIIa, pp. 397–403.

6. B. Blondé, ‘Think Local, act Global? Hot drinks and the consumer culture of the 18th _century

Antwerp’, contribution to Goods from the East:

Trading Eurasia 1600-1830. Conference at the Palazzo Pesaro-Papafava, Venice, 11–13 January 2013, organised by the University of Warwick. C. de Staelen, Spulletjes en hun betekenis in een

commerciële metropool; Antwerpenaren en hun materiële cultuur in de zestienden eeuw (unpublished dissertation, Antwerp University), Antwerpen, 2007. With many thanks to Prof. Dr. Bruno Blondé for making this information available.

7. Stadsarchief Amsterdam, notarial archive, notary Jan Franssen Bruyningh, inv. no. 197, 19 January 1613, fol. 436–543.

8. Th. F. Wijsenbeek-Olthuis (ed.), Het lange Voorhout;

monumenten, mensen, macht, Zwolle, 1998, p. 91. Gemeentearchief The Hague, notarial archive, notary T. van Swieten, inv. no. 309, 20 May 1663,

fol. 39–181.

9. Inventory published in A. Bredius,

Künstler-inventare, The Hague, 1915–1922, Part I, pp. 129–147. C. W. Fock, ‘Kunst en rariteiten in het Hollandse interieur’, in: E. Bergvelt and R. Kistemaker (eds.), De Wereld binnen Handbereik;

Nederlandse kunst- en rariteitenverzamelingen, 1585–1735 (exhib. cat. Amsterdams Historisch Museum), Zwolle/Amsterdam, 1992, pp. 70–91, esp. p. 79.

10. A. J. Veenendaal, Johan van Oldenbarnevelt;

bescheiden betreffende zijn staatkundig beleid en zijn familie. Third Part 1614–1620, Rijks Geschiedkundige

Publicatiën Grote Serie 121, The Hague, 1967, pp. 488–505.

11. C. W. Fock, ‘Frederik Hendrik en Amalia’s appartementen: vorstelijk vertoon naast de triomf van het porselein’, in: P. van der Ploeg and C. Vermeeren, Vorstelijk Verzameld; de kunstcollectie van

Frederik Hendrik en Amalia (exhib. cat. Mauritshuis), The Hague/ Zwolle, 1997, pp. 76–86.

12. C. Viallé, ‘“Fit for Kings and Princes”: a gift of Japanese lacquer’, in: Y. Nagazumi (ed.), Large and

Broad; the Dutch impact on early modern Asia; essays in honour of Leonard Blussé, Tokyo, 2010, pp. 188–222. 13. S. Limburg 2005 (op. cit. note 1). Inventory

published in Th. H. Lunsingh Scheurleer et al. 1986–1992, (op. cit. note 5) Part VIb, pp. 865–869. 14. The Delft examples are: Nicolaes Verburch,

Direc-tor General and Council of the VOC had, accord-ing to an inventory of 1676, a ‘small chamber or porcelain room’ (‘achterboven of porseleynkamer’); Dirck van Bleijswyck, member of the city coun-cil, also had according to his inventory of 1695 a porcelain room. See M. S. van Aken, ‘Delfts aardewerk: de “allerbeste” nabootsing van oost-ers porselein’, Vormen uit Vuur 180/181 (2003/1-2), pp. 66–77, esp. p. 68. An Amsterdam example is: Harpert Tromp, former Mayor, had according to his inventory from 1691 a porcelain room. See M. van Aken, ‘Delfts aardewerk: wel een sieraad, geen schat een verzameling waard’, in: E. Bergvelt et al. (ed.), Schatten in Delft; burgers verzamelen

1600–1750 (exhib. cat. Prinsenhof ), Zwolle/Delft, 2002, pp. 126–141, esp. p. 136.

15. S. W. A. Drossaers and Th. H. Lunsingh Scheurleer,

Inventarissen van de inboedels in de verblijven van de Oranjes en daarmee gelijk te stellen stukken 1567–1795

(RGP Grote serie 147–149), The Hague, 1974– 1976.

16. Drossaers en Lunsingh Scheurleer (op. cit. note 15), Part I, pp. 647–694 and A.M.L.E. Erkelens,

‘Delffs Porcelijn’ van koningin Mary II; ceramiek op het Loo uit de tijd van Willem III en Mary II (exhib. cat. Paleis het Loo), Zwolle, 1996.

17. M. Fitski, Kakiemon porcelain. A Handbook, Amsterdam/Leiden, 2011.

18. S. Schama, The Embarassment of Riches, New York, 1987.

19. Much has been published on this subject. Most use has been made of H. Nijboer, De fatsoenering

van het bestaan; consumptie in Leeuwarden tijdens de Gouden Eeuw (PhD thesis Groningen University), Groningen, 2007.

20. D. Defoe, Robinson Crusoe, London, 1719. Quoted in L. Weatherill, ‘Meaning of conspicuous behaviour’, in: J. Brewer and R. Porter,

Consumption and the World of Goods, London, 1993, p. 206.

21. A. Laabs, De Leidse fi jnschilders uit Dresden (exhib. cat. Museum De Lakenhal, Leiden and Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden), Zwolle etc., 2001, pp. 102–104.

22. De gedebaucheerde en betoverde koffy- en theewereld,

behelzende een meenigte van aardige voorvallen, welke zich sedert weinig tijds te Amsterdam, Rotterdam, in Den Haag, te Utrecht en de bijgelegene Plaatsen, op de Koffy- en Theegezelschapjes... hebben voorgedragen, met alle de debauches en ongeregeldheden, welke onder pretext van deeze laffe Dranken worden gepleegd: Beneevens een uitreekening van de Jaarlijkse schade, welke door dit Koffy- en Theegebruik... word veroorzaakt, enz, Amsterdam, 1701, citations respectively pp. 490/491, 483/484, 117.

23. Jan Luijken, Het leerzaam huisraad, vertoond in vyftig

konstige fi guuren, met godlyke spreuken en stichtelyke verzen, Amsterdam, 1711, pp. 118–119.

24. Jan Claus Willem van Laar, Het groot Ceremonie-boek

der beschaafde zeeden, Amsterdam, 1735, p. 415, quoted in H. Dibbits, Vertrouwd bezit, 2001, pp. 305–306.

25. K. Zandvliet, De 250 rijksten van de Gouden Eeuw;

kapitaal, macht, familie en levensstijl, Amsterdam, 2006, no. 59.

26. Estate inventory: Gemeentearchief Alkmaar, notarial archive, inv. no. 319, deed 32, 28 July 1679.

27. K. Zandvliet 2006 (op. cit. note 25), no. 145; Estate inventory: Stadsarchief Amsterdam, notarial archive, inv. no. 5329, no. 60, 17 June 1693, f. 292 ff. With thanks to Cynthia Viallé for a transcript of the estate.

28. Zandvliet 2006 (op. cit. note 25), no. 39; J. Veenendaal, ‘Het Indische huisraad van Rijklof van Goens Jr.’, in: H. L. Houtzager et al. (eds.), Delft en de Oostindische Compagnie, Amsterdam, 1987, pp. 171–188. Estate inventory: Gemeentearchief Delft, notarial archive, notary Philips de Bries, protocol no. 2329, deed 101, 1 October 1688, and Weeskamer archive, inv. no. 7567–7595, part 13, estate no. 629 III. 29. K. Zandvliet 2006 (op. cit. note 25), no. 6. 30. Inventory of the estate of Johan Cornelis

Speelman: Gemeentearchief Rotterdam, old notarial archive, access no. 01.2.061, notary Philips Basteels, inv. no. 961, 3 May 1690, pp. 518– 624. List of possessions of Cornelis Speelman, sold 20 August 1687, after his death in Batavia: Nationaal archief, VOC archive, inv. no. 1431, pp. 736–738.

31. M. S. Van Aken 2003 (op. cit. note 14), p. 67. 32. K. Zandvliet 2006 (op. cit. note 25), no. 66.

Inventory of the estate made after the death of Jacob Jacobsz Hinlopen de Jonge, husband of Hester Ranst: Stadsarchief Amsterdam, notarial archive, notary Casper Ypelaer, inv. no. 5333, 25 April 1699. For Hester Ranst in her later days: E. Tigelaar (ed.), Amoureuze en pikante geschiedenis van

het congres en de stad Utrecht; Augustinus Freschots verhaal achter de Vrede van Utrecht, Hilversum, 2013, pp. 138–140.

33. K. Zandvliet 2006 (op. cit. note 25), no. 262. Estate inventory: Utrechtsarchief, stadsarchief II (access no. 702–7), inv. no. 3146–7.

34. Gemeentearchief Delft, notarial archive, notary J. de Bries, inv. no. 2405, deed 46, 22 August 1712, fol. 242-270v_.

35. It is interesting to compare quantities and diversity with the royal collections discussed by Canepa and Bischoff in Chapters 2 and 10 respectively.

Chapter 12 Cultural refl ections

* I would like to express my gratitude to the research group, ‘Art and Knowledge in Pre-Modern Europe’, Max Planck Institute for the History of Science, Berlin, which made this article possible by granting me a Fellowship in 2012.

1. The same Wanli bowl features in two of Kalf’s other works, respectively in the Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin, inv. no. 948 (1661), and the Collection of Isabel and Alfred Bader, Milwaukee/Kingston (c.1678).

2. S. Ostkamp, ‘Krekels, kikkers en een lang en voorspoedig leven. De boeddhistisch-taoïstische belevingswereld in de huiskamer van de vroegmoderne Republiek’, Vormen uit vuur 212/213, 2011, pp. 2–31. Kalf, who was an art dealer, possibly also bought and sold porcelain; in any case his still lifes, for which he selected only authentic Chinese wares, usually of a very refi ned sort, suggest that he had acquired a sophisticated taste.

3. Two overviews without any ambition to

completeness are A. I. Spriggs, ‘Oriental Porcelain in Western Paintings, 1450–1750’, Transactions of

the Oriental Ceramic Society XXXVI, 1964–66, pp. 73– 76, and N. Ottema, Chineesche ceramiek: handboek

geschreven naar aanleiding van de verzamelingen in het Museum het Princessehof te Leeuwarden, Amsterdam: De Bussy, 1946, pp. 180–184.

4. Of course, they may also have wanted to keep studio secrets for themselves.

5. T. Weststeijn, ‘The Middle Kingdom in the Low Countries: Sinology in the Seventeenth-Century Netherlands’, in: R. Bod, J. Maat & T. Weststeijn (eds.), The Making of the Humanities, Vol. II: From

Early Modern to Modern Disciplines, Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2012, pp. 209–242. 6. ‘De man, eer dat hy koopt, om niet te zijn bedrogen, /Hy

knipt aen ’t postuleyn: het mocht misschien niet dogen:/ En hoort zoo aen ’t geluyd, of ’t fi jn is naer zijn keur, / Of ’t niet te lomp en is, of ergens heeft een scheur’, J. de Brune de Oude, Emblemata of zinne-werck, Amsterdam: Kloppenburch, 1624, Emblem XXIII (Wat de man kan, wijst zijn reden an), p. 166. See also F. X. d’Entrecolles, Brieven van pater d’Entrecolles

en mededelingen over de porseleinfabricage uit oude boeken, D. F. Lunsingh Scheurleer (ed.), Alphen aan den Rijn: Canaletto, 1982, p. 355 (Letter of 1712): ‘La bonne porcelaine a un son clair comme le

verre’.

7. ‘ ’t Zyn Vaten, doch zy doen geen nut,/Om Spyze op den

Dis te draagen, ... Maar dienen enkel ’t welbehaagen,/ Tot Oogen lust en Pronkery’, J. Luyken, Het leerzaam

huisraad, Amsterdam: Arentz and Van der Sys, 1711, Fig. XXIV, p. 118.

8. ‘[E]en Man, die aan zyn beminde, het Porcelyn onthout,

ziet’er vry blaauwer uit dan een Verwers blaauwkuip vol Indigo’, J. C. Weyerman, Den Amsterdamsche Hermes,

deel 2, nr. 46 (10 August 1723), pp. 365–367. His reference may have been to Bloemaert’s Lot and

his Daughters (Fig. 5): here porcelain, alongside the oysters, may have been intended as a reference to sexual seduction, although it was far more common to use white faience in this context, as Nora Vester kindly informed me.

9. D. F. Lach, Asia in the Making of Europe, Volume II: A

Century of Wonder, Book 1: The Visual Arts, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970, p. 105; the reference is to J. C. Scaliger, Exercitationes exotericae

de subtilitate, Paris, 1557.

10. ‘[A]engaende de Porcelleynen, en mach niet naeghelaten

zijn, dat namelick dese Oost-Indische handelinghen een groote menichte der selver inde Nederlanden ghebracht hebben .... alsoo moet men ooc van de Porcelleynen, der welcker overvloet daghelicx meer ende meer aenwast, gevoelen dat de selve eerst wt dese navigatien by de onse by na tot het gheybruyck des ghemeenen volcks ghemeyn gheworden zijn … de Porcelleynen deses tijts… alleen, mijns wetens blau met wit daer tusschen gemengt hebben’, B. Pontanus, Historische

beschrijvinghe der seer wijt beroemde coop-stadt Amsterdam … in Nederduyts overgheset door Petrum

Montanum, Amsterdam: Hondius, 1614, pp. 145– 147.

11. J. A. Page & I. Domé nech (eds.), Beyond Venice:

Glass in Venetian Style, 1500–1750, Corning and New York: Corning Museum of Glass, 2004, p. 8. 12. With thanks to Dr. Alex Marr (Cambridge

University) for identifying these objects. 13. On the etymology see in detail P. Pelliot, Notes on

Marco Polo, Vol. II, Paris: Imprimerie Nationale & Librairie Adrien-Maisonneuve, 1963, pp. 805–809. 14. Ibid., pp. 810–11; D. F. Lach 1970 (op. cit. note

9), p. 105, discusses how the term porcelain ‘was used so broadly that it included agates, precious stones, mother-of-pearl, and seashells within its meaning. In the inventory of 1611–13 of Philip II’s porcelains and other ceramics, listings may be found for “porcelains” of crystal, of agate, and of stone.’ Generally speaking, pearls and precious stones were associated with Asia (see p. 40). 15. T. Browne, Pseudo-doxia epidemica, dat is:

Beschryvinge van verscheyde algemene dwalingen des volks, transl. J. Grindal, Amsterdam: Van Goedesbergh, 1668, pp. 87-88; English original,

Pseudodoxia Epidemica: Or, Enquiries into Very Many Received Tenents, and Commonly Presumed Truths,

London: Ekins, 1656, pp. 72–73.

16. J. Nieuhof, Het gezantschap der Neêrlandtsche

Oost-Indische Compagnie, aan den grooten Tartarischen Cham ... beneffens een naukeurige beschryving der Sineesche steden, dorpen, regeering, Amsterdam: Van Meurs, 1665, pp. 90–91.

17. For some examples see Frans II Francken, An

Art Cabinet, 1636, Oil on wood, 74 x 78 cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna; Cornelis de Bailleur, Gallery of a Collector, c.1635, Oil on oak, 115 x 148 cm, Residenzgalerie, Salzburg; Cornelis de Bailleur, Gallery of a Collector, 1637, Oil on wood, 93 x 123 cm, Musée du Louvre, Paris; Hieronymus Francken (attr.), An Art Cabinet, oil on panel, 68.5 x 65 cm, auctioned at Christie’s, New York, 2001-01-26, lot no. 109 (photos in RKD, The Hague).

18. Jan van Kessel (1626–1679), The Element of Fire,

c.1665, auctioned at London, Sotheby’s, 1995-07-05; The Element of Fire, dated 1670, private collection (photos in RKD, The Hague). 19. J. Needham and Lu Gwei-djen, Science and

Civilisation in China, vol. V, Part 2: Spagyrical Discovery and Invention: Magisteries of Gold and Immortality, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1974, p. 269–270.

20. P. Pelliot 1963 (op. cit. note 13), pp. 808–809. 21. Apotekarsocieteten, Stockholm (as ‘School of

Terborch’, 1665, size and support unknown). Image from D. A. Wittop Koning, ‘Van Antwerpse majolica tot Delfts aarderwerk IV’, Antiek 2/6, 1968, pp. 265–270, Fig. 41. The painting probably represents maiolica rather than Chinese wares. 22. H. J. Cook, Matters of Exchange: Commerce, Medicine,

and Science in the Dutch Golden Age, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2007, pp. 141–2; E. Bergvelt and R. Kistemaker (eds.), De wereld binnen

handbereik, Zwolle: Waanders, 1992, p. 149. 23. W. ten Rhijne, Dissertatio de arthritide: Mantissa

schematica: de acupunctura: et orationes tres, I. de chymiæ ac botaniæ antiquitate et dignitate. II. de physiognomia. III. de monstris, London: Chiswell, & The Hague: Leers, 1683.

24. I. Vossius, ‘De artibus et scientiis Sinarum’, in:

Isaaci Vossii variarum observationum liber, London: Scott, 1685, pp. 69–85: 76. See also pp. 70–75 on the circulation of the blood, which Vossius seems

to emphasize as the greatest Chinese discovery. For the Dutch knowledge of this topic see Cook 2007 (op. cit. note 22), pp. 349–377.

25. The doctor accompanied Johan van Hoorn, Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies, to the Netherlands. See L. Blussé, ‘Doctor at Sea: Chou Mei-Yeh’s Voyage to the West (1710–1711),’ in: E. de Poorter (ed.), As the Twig is Bent ..: Essays in

Honour of Frits Vos, Amsterdam: Gieben, 1990, pp. 7–30.

26. Witsen (Amsterdam) to Vossius (London), 6 November [1670], Leiden University Library, UBL Ms Bur F11, fol. 160r; J. van der Veen 1992 (op. cit. note 22), p. 140. Witsen asked the Chinese in Batavia for a translation of the text on a mirror found in a Siberian grave; he had to wait two years for the reply: Witsen to and from Cuper, University of Amsterdam Special Collections, Bf 39, 4-11-1708; Bf 3, 20-10-1705.

27. In the Low Countries, Margaret of Austria was one of the earliest collectors of porcelain; see N. Ottema 1946 (op. cit. note 3), p. 180 (referring to Inventaire des vaiselles, joyaux… de Marguerite

d’Autriche, publié par H. Michelant, Brussels: Hayez, 1870). See also Teresa Canepa’s and Cordula Bischoff’s Chapter 2/Chapter 10 of this book. 28. T. Browne 1656 (op. cit. note 15), p. 73; 1668 (op.

cit. note 15), p. 88.

29. ‘Alle spyze en drank die opgidist [sic] word in

Porcelyn verlekkert in smaak, en verheugt het oog ... De Confi tuuren zyn veel verglaasder in een schotel van porcelyn, dan in een schotel van zilver, en het fruit krygt een nieuwe waessem door het heerlyk hemelsblaauw van het porcelyn’, J. C. Weyerman 1723 (op. cit. note 8), p. 366.

30. J. Bruggeman, ‘Literaire chinoiserie in het werk van Jacob Campo Weyerman’, Mededelingen van

de Stichting Jacob Campo Weyerman 21, 1998, pp. 25–30.

31. D. F. Lach 1970 (op. cit. note 9), pp. 20–21. 32. De Gois quoted by D. F. Lach 1970 (op. cit. note 9),

p. 105; Paludanus’ annotation in Van Linschoten’s report, see A. C. Burnell and P. A. Tiele (eds.),

The Voyage of John Huyghen van Linschoten to the East Indies: From the Old English Translation of 1598: The First Book, Containing his Description of the East (1885), London: Hakluyt Society, 1885, vol. I, p. 130.

33. D. F. Lach & E. van Kley, Asia in the Making of

Europe. Volume III: A Century of Advance, Book 4: East Asia, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993, pp. 1602–3, referring to Novus Atlas Sinensis, vol. XI of Johannes Blaeu, Le Grand atlas, Amsterdam: Blaeu, 1663, p. 5; Dutch edition, Grooten atlas,

oft werelt-beschrijving, in welcke’t aertryck, de zee, en hemel, wordt vertoond en beschreven, Amsterdam: Blaeu, 1646–1665, vol. VI, Introduction to the maps of China.

34. In 1652, Jan van Riebeeck sent samples of white-fi ring clay from the Cape to Batavia, to see whether it could be used to make porcelain. It could not.

35. ‘[E]en gebakke Aarde .... die in een gelit gaat met het

Goud, met de Paerelen, en met de edele Gesteentens’, J. C. Weyerman 1723 (op. cit. note 8), p. 365. 36. See J. D. van Dam, Delffse Porceleyne: Dutch

Delftware 1620–1850, Zwolle: Waanders, 2004, on the technical details of the production and the import of marl (clay with high lime content) from Tournai and Norwich, which the Delft potters added to their mixtures.

37. J. Berger Hochstrasser, Still Life and Trade in the

Dutch Golden Age, New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007, p. 148, also notes the seminal role