WEBZINE ACC

Cultural exchange in Northeast Asia 600 years ago,
across the sea

One dish found on the Shinan Submarine Shipwreck

In 2016, the National Museum of Korea held an exhibition called “Discoveries from the Sinan Shipwreck” to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the excavation of the Sinan Shipwreck. This exhibition introduced the Sinan underwater artifacts that were excavated through 11 excavations from the start of the full-scale excavation in 1976 to 1984. At that time, the exhibition was truly overwhelming in terms of quantity. Over 20,000 pieces of artifacts, mainly pottery, and one ton of coins (approximately 280,000 in total) were exhibited.

The pottery that filled the exhibition hall showcased the exceptional quality of Chinese Yuan dynasty ceramics, reaching the pinnacle of excellence. However, despite that, there was one artwork that captivated the attention of many visitors for a long time. It was the blue and white porcelain of Jingdezhen Kiln. Although it was just a small plate among the 24,000 excavated items, this artifact seemed to perfectly represent the discoveries from the Sinan Shipwreck.

A plate with a poem 靑白瓷釉裏紅雙葉文詩銘盤
(Blue and White Porcelain Plate with Underglaze Red Double Leaf Poem Inscription)

A plate with a poem China (Yuan dynasty), 14th century, Diameter 16.4 cm, Height 1.4 cm, National Museum of Korea.

What catches our eye about this plate is the pure and dignified white color of the glaze, the subtle and faint depiction of hidden leaves underneath, and the two lines of calligraphy. All of these were achieved by an anonymous potter who skillfully manipulated clay and fire. During this period, Jingdezhen Kiln's white porcelain had a faint bluish tinge in its glaze layer, commonly known as blue and white porcelain or blue and white underglaze. It is said that this coloration is influenced by the presence of up to 14% calcium oxide in the glaze. While this artifact does have some degree of blue tinge, the overall coloration is closer to pure white porcelain.

The awe-inspiring power of fire doesn't end here in this artwork. This is because once again, a magic occurred during the process of adding color. The loosely applied pigment on the two leaves pattern drawn on the background met with fire, resulting in a subtle reddish hue. The color that is closer to pink is not based on the potter's intention, but rather resembles the work of fire. This type of ceramics, known as “hongnokchae” (紅綠彩, red and green coloration), features these colors and is considered the highest-quality tableware created for the imperial family and nobility in the Yuan dynasty, which was ruled by the Mongols.

Most of this type of ceramics exhibit vibrant colors similar to those seen in paintings, such as intense pigments. However, this artwork leans more towards a restrained color palette. The coloration found within this artwork, nestled between the dignified and creamy white, is subtle yet splendid. This light is also partly due to it emerging between the glazed layer, which melted like glass under the heat. Therefore, this type of ceramics is also referred to as “yurihong” (釉裏紅, underglaze red).

A love story carried away by the flowing stream water

On this small, white plate, you can see two lines of faded words written with sincere emotions. The potter who wrote on this plate undoubtedly had black ink in mind, but the work of fire or the sea transformed it into a color closer to red. The lines read:

This describes a scenario where someone living in a palace regrets their status while looking at the stream flowing towards a residential district. This text is a poem from “The Record of a Drifting Red Leaf,” which is a work written by the historical figure Zhang Shi during the Song dynasty. According to him, the historical background related to this poem is the reign of Emperor Xizong of Tang (873–888). This period coincides with the time of the Rebellion of Huang Chao, which was a peasant uprising that swept across the entire Tang dynasty. The late Tang dynasty (836–907) was a time of decline for the Tang Empire, and it was a period when the signs of its collapse were evident to many.

The original text of the poem recorded on this plate consists of five-character phrases and is composed of four verses, forming an elegant and concise composition. However, only two of those verses are recorded on this plate. The remaining two verses not mentioned on the plate read:

These two verses help us fully understand the context of the text inscribed on the plate. This poem was written by a palace maid who were in the right age for marriage but was never chosen by the emperor. It holds a similar emotion as the one we can feel in “Adelaide’s Lament” from <Guys and Dolls>.

One palace maid in the Tang dynasty wrote a poem on a fallen leaf, with the lyrics expressing her sad feelings, to relieve her loneliness and boredom. Perhaps she wasn’t expecting someone to reply. Fortunately, the leaf finds its way to one man. Intrigued by the poem, he writes a reply on a leaf to console the nameless palace maid. The palace maid finds the reply floating in the stream. The two starts missing each other, imagining their encounter purely based on the lyrics. Needless to say, their wishes would have never come true under normal circumstances.

紅葉題詩圖 (Lady Inscribing a Banana Leaf in a Garden) China (Ming dynasty), work by Tang Yin (1470-1523), 47 x 102 cm,
Clark Center for Japanese Art and Culture Collection

The collapse of the dynasty turned the unreal into reality through change. During the process of the imperial palace sending some of the palace maids outside the palace walls, a thirty-year-old maid named Han was included in that group. She ends up living in the house of a person named Han Young, and during that time, she also comes across a well-matched partner. That person is Woo-woo. He is the person who happened to discover the maple leaf letter from palace maid Han, and out of sympathy, he wrote a reply and let it float in the river. And once again, through a coincidental fate, the married couple comes across the maple leaf letters that they had held onto, confirming each other's feelings. Since then, this couple's lives were blessed with five sons and three daughters, all of whom were married off to prestigious families. They lived a prosperous life with exceptional happiness for a hundred years. This is the content of the early Northern Song dynasty epistolary novel “The Record of a Drifting Red Leaf.”

Did they truly live “happily ever after” from then on?

While it is true that the novel “The Record of a Drifting Red Leaf” depicts the final stages of the Tang dynasty, which collapsed in the late 9th century, it is difficult to ascertain the authenticity of the palace maid's return referred to in the novel. Indeed, such an event of a palace maid leaving the palace in her old age is unlikely to occur in typical circumstances. Moreover, it is difficult to see the message conveyed in Woo-woo’s reply as a genuine poem written by the palace maid. It seems to reflect the sentiments after encountering such a letter or poem. There are indeed many similar poems, including those left behind by scholars from the Goryeo and Joseon dynasties.

In fact, the motif of this story is based on the poems left by a historical figure named Gohwang from the reign of Emperor Dezong of Tang (779–805). Similar content can be found in “Benshishi” (866), written by Meng Qi from the era of Emperor Xizong of Tang. One day, Gohwang was walking near Shangyang Palace in Luoyang along with his friend. He happened to pick up a poem written by a certain palace maid engraved on a large maple leaf floating in the river as he passed by the palace. Intrigued by the content of the poem, he wrote down his own reflections on the leaf and let it float upstream in the river that flowed into the palace. And some time later, he heard news that someone had obtained a poem written by a palace maid that appeared to be a reply.

Gohwang, who lived during the mid-Tang dynasty (766-835), was a poet and government official who left behind many poems related to palace life and palace maids during that time. His poems mostly capture his experiences and observations as a government official living within the palace, providing insights into the daily life and encounters he had within the palace walls. As a figure from a later period, Meng Qi, the author of “Benshishi” recorded this old story to help understand the concept of the reply to the palace maid's poem written by Gohwang. Indeed, this story does not involve any longing or affection towards the palace maid. It is highly likely that the palace maid who resided in Shangyang Palace in Luoyang ultimately could not leave the palace, as suggested by the story.

It seems that the people of later generations, empathizing with the life of such palace maids, who may have lived in different times or might be fictional, have projected their emotions onto Woo-woo in order to mourn for the many lives in such situations. Through this, the nameless palace maid gains a noble title of Han and even experiences a dream-like marriage. This poignant love story has transcended China and spread to Korea and Japan as well, becoming a fantastical folktale that has been adapted in various forms across different eras. During that time, there were emperors in various countries, and palace maids lived a life different from that of ordinary women, as they were subjected to certain constraints and obligations.

A love story nestled within a small dish, trying to cross the sea

The two leaves on top of this small porcelain dish are none other than the maple leaves mentioned in this story. Therefore, one leaf should contain the poem of the palace maid, while the other leaf should contain Woo-woo's reply. However, is it really necessary to include both poems in the story? The craftsman of Jingdezhen during the Yuan dynasty, who made the plate, ingeniously resolved the laborious task by writing one verse of the palace maid's poem on each leaf.

From the ancient past, the countries of Korea, China, and Japan in Northeast Asia have shared classical Chinese literature and the knowledge and thoughts based on it. And geographically, there was the Yellow Sea, which was situated between three countries. During that time, people could imagine the beautiful story contained in that small dish with just those two maple leaves and two verses. Indeed, this dish carries cultural symbolism. It may represent not only a simple exchange of material goods but also the broader sharing of culture.

On the Sinan underwater line, there were numerous pieces of pottery with the same appearance, ranging from hundreds to just a few, placed together. However, there was only a single piece of this kind of plate. The patron of this dish was a distinguished individual of high status who lived during the 14th century in Japan. The patron was well aware of the story depicted on the dish, including the connection between Lady Han and Woo-woo, as represented by the chengyu (traditional Chinese idiomatic expression), 紅葉良媒 (red leaves, good match). And this someone meticulously wrote a detailed order form specifying the appearance, design, and poetic verses for the dish. It is likely that it was more akin to a letter expressing an earnest request rather than a mere order form.

Upon receiving this Japanese individual's letter, which would have been delivered to Jingdezhen in the Yuan dynasty several months later, the craftsman would have likely been taken aback and filled with confusion. Upon hearing the story of “red leaves” that he himself was unaware of, it's possible that he would have had a smile spread across his entire face. Perhaps, filled with just as much curiosity as the affection the two protagonists in the story had for each other, the craftsman would have crafted the dish ordered by this mysterious individual from Japan.

With great care, he molded the prepared clay into the shape of a dish, delicately shaping the leaf portion slightly higher than the rest, to give it a defined contour. He then engraved the leaf veins inside the dish. Afterward, he slowly applied the prepared dye onto the dish that had been dried in the shade, painting the leaves into a vibrant red color. However, he did not include all of the poems requested by the patron. It was clear that a dish filled with text would have been too cluttered. Considering the size of the dish, two verses were deemed sufficient, and it was believed that they alone would adequately convey the intentions of the patron's order.

After the ink that was written in a different pigment from the background leaves had dried, the craftsman coated the entire dish with glaze and patiently waited for it to dry. He carefully placed the finished piece, treasuring it, into the deepest spot of the kiln. Then, he placed other stacked pottery around it before igniting the fire. The fire, reaching temperatures over 1,300°C, caused chemical changes in the pigments, glazes, and the clay itself. As a result of this process, the final product emerged as the dish with inscribed poetry. Some time later, the craftsman carefully packaged this thin and small dish, distinguishing it from other ordinary works. Wishing for this dish to safely cross the calm and gentle sea and reach its intended recipient in Japan...

However, the desired response to the craftman’s craftsmanship and the patron's eager anticipation never came to fruition. The trading ship carrying this plate with inscribed poetry departed from the port of the craftman's hometown, Qingyuan (now Ningbo), around June 1323, en route to Hakata in Japan (now Fukuoka). However, the ship met its unfortunate fate while navigating through the numerous islands and reefs of Goreyo’s Dadohae and sank. And this plate resurfaced from the underwater excavation after 659 years, in the year 1982.

This unique and beautiful dish may not have reached its intended recipient, but it survived intact in the depths of the sea for over 600 years and has now come to us. On the other hand, if, due to the shipping accident in 1323, the Japanese individual had reordered a new piece and it had safely reached the patron, it would likely have become shattered pieces by now. Because this plate is considered the world's only artwork that contains the story of “red leaves, good match” up to the time of writing this article.

Now, the plate with inscribed poetry has become a representative artwork that holds high value not only for Korea that owns it but also for its country of origin, China, and its intended destination, Japan, as a tribute to an era long gone. The product of a highly personal desire of a 14th-century Japanese patron is now introduced as one of the representative ceramic artworks of that era. Within it, not only does it embody the ceramic ordering, production, and distribution system that surrounded the West Sea, but it also encompasses the wide-ranging cultural and intellectual exchange within Northeast Asian society.

The Korean interpretation by an esteemed expert of the poem inscribed on the plate is as follows: