Crafting Life, A Symphony of Lifestyle and Materials
Fan Jianjun and Qiu Fanzhi maintain a grueling schedule, working 12-hour days, often taking nearly a year to complete a single piece. The extent of their dedication, including working on New Year's Day, is hard for most to fathom. Despite their intense labor, their output is limited and their corresponding income remains modest.
Qiu Fanzhi
"My master teacher, Ōnishi Isao, a Living National Treasure, slept only three to four hours a day until he was 58, working almost every day. He bought his first car in his 60s. When his father-in-law passed away, he couldn't afford the funeral. He exchanged a lacquerware piece with a monk for a place for the ashes. It was only later that things slowly improved, providing us with this precedent."--Fan, J.
Fan, J. Recreated Song Dynasty sunflower mouth plate
The founder of their research institute, Matsuda Gonroku, stated that the lifespan of an artifact should be measured in units of at least 100 years.Adhering to this philosophy, the institute had a challenging admission process and high graduation standards.
The year Fan Jianjun was admitted, only 10 students were accepted, and only 4 graduated five years later. Qiu Fanzhi, Fan's junior, took a body-making class with him one year; they were the only two students in the class, with more teachers than students. This led to their acquaintance and eventual relationship, as they discovered a mutual understanding and connection.
Sample Ring Box
Their first custom piece was a wedding ring box, taking three years to complete. The client, a man from Harbin, had a fiancée with the surname Liu. Fan Jianjun suggested using willow wood for the box body, choosing to cut the tree at the coldest time of winter, around -17°C, when the tree has the least nutrients and the wood is most stable. After cutting, the wood was dried naturally for six months on a rooftop, exposed to the elements.
The body-making process then took nine months. The finished box had excellent airtightness; the bottom wouldn't fall out even when holding just the lid. Qiu Fanzhi then decorated the box with a maki-e design of a willow leaf floating in a starry sky. They confidently assured the client that it would last for 1,000 years, similar to the ancient lacquerware preserved in Shōsō-in, as they followed the same traditional techniques.
Planting Lacquer Trees
Creating lacquerware follows the principle of "timing, natural conditions, material beauty, and craftsmanship," with human skill considered last.
Almost everything related to lacquerware is made from natural materials. Although China is the origin of natural lacquer, it is unfortunately hard to find pure lacquer today, as most farmers and middlemen use chemical additives. After moving to Jingdezhen, Fan Jianjun and Qiu Fanzhi began planting their own lacquer trees, which take about seven years to mature for harvesting.
While chemically enhanced lacquer dries in two hours, natural raw lacquer takes at least eight hours, ensuring a slow and meticulous process.
The raw lacquer that has been harvested needs to be processed into mature lacquer. Fan Jianjun believes that the best method is still the traditional sun-drying technique during the hottest days of summer. While modern tools like heating lamps and mechanical mixers are available, allowing the lacquer to be sun-dried and stirred manually, with breaks for both the lacquer and the artisan, results in a much more beautiful sheen.
The traditional sun-drying method is very difficult to execute because it requires experience to maintain the lacquer's temperature between 40-41°C and reduce the moisture content from 30% to around 3%. This process relies entirely on visual judgment to assess the moisture level. If the moisture content drops below 3%, the lacquer will become difficult to dry due to dehydration.
Qiu Fanzhi truly realized the significance of the solar terms after working with lacquerware. This spring, they had just finished applying lacquer to a batch of pieces when, overnight, a fog formed on them, a phenomenon known as "burning," ruining the entire batch. The cause became clear when they noticed condensation on a mirror and realized it coincided with the "Rain Water" solar term, where alternating warm and cold weather caused the fogging.
Their rest periods are tied to the production cycle, and in March, they might find some free time for a small picnic or walk in a nearby village. Typically, they only eat two meals a day, working in the studio until 10 or 11 p.m. Fan Jianjun then rides a bicycle with Qiu Fanzhi back to their rented house in Sanbao Village.
A Small Research Institute in the Ceramics City
The Ground Floor Courtyard of the Studio
For them, it doesn’t matter whether they work in a big city or deep in the mountains; they can create lacquerware anywhere. They chose Jingdezhen because it's ideal for small workshops and offers the chance to meet like-minded friends. Within a few hundred meters, there are studios and even a coffee shop where the owner treats coffee roasting as a craft. The relaxed atmosphere and low cost of living in this small town provide fertile ground for them to focus on their craft, allowing Fan Jianjun to relax and embrace creativity, a stark contrast to the strict environment he experienced in Japan.
When Fan Jianjun first visited Jingdezhen, he was captivated by the town's laid-back vibe. A friend took him to a wild river in the suburbs, where he learned to swim while lying on the water, surrounded by nature, freeing himself from the intense discipline he had known in Japan. This small town's low cost of living also provided fertile ground for deepening their craft.
Earlier this year, a high-end flooring brand approached them for a collaboration, inspired by the mesmerizing lacquered floors of Ruriko-in Temple in Kyoto, Japan. In the temple’s shadowy ancient architecture, the jet-black floors reflect the changing seasons like glass, capturing the essence of both emptiness and fullness, with flowers, the moon, and pavilions in view.
Although Fan Jianjun and Qiu Fanzhi have never visited this ancient temple, they speculated that the floors were not made using modern techniques. Upon researching, they found inspiration in Tang Dynasty lacquer techniques.
The artisans in the Tang Dynasty would first darken the wooden base using natural materials before applying the lacquer. This technique helped to compensate for the less intense black that resulted from incomplete reactions between the lacquer and iron. By doing so, they achieved a more layered and rich black finish, which, upon close inspection, also revealed the wood’s intricate golden grain patterns.
By following this method, they successfully recreated a deep, stable black with rich diffuse reflections. They were pleasantly surprised by how well it turned out when they first saw the results.
Fan Jianjun believes that the paper-coating technique, known as "Zhi Yi," embodies a distinctly Chinese characteristic—a sense of warmth and gentleness. By applying Xuan paper to the surface of an object before lacquering, the technique imparts a warm, soft finish to the lacquerware. This method originated in China and was introduced to Japan during the Wanli period of the Ming Dynasty by a Hangzhou lacquer master named Yixian.
In designing the "Futai" (a multi-purpose tray used for dining and tea), Fan Jianjun chose to incorporate this ancient technique. He applied black Xuan paper to the surface and then coated it with a natural red pigment called cinnabar ochre. He remarked, "I believe this aligns perfectly with the Chinese aesthetic and character."
The base of the incense holder was coated with a sugar-dry lacquer, giving it a matte finish.
The traditional technique of sugar-dry lacquer. involves heating and caramelizing sugar before adding it to raw lacquer. This mixture is then applied to the surface of an object, resulting in a unique matte finish with a smooth, warm texture. This method provides a distinctive decorative effect that is both visually appealing and pleasant to the touch.
Lacquerware typically has a reflective finish, but when designing an incense holder base, Qiu Fanzhi used the maki-e technique of sugar-dry lacquer. She heated and stirred white sugar until it turned into charcoal, ground it into powder, and applied it to the base. This method, usually hidden beneath the lacquer, created an extremely matte effect, contrasting with the traditional glossy lacquerware.
For them, both recreating ancient artifacts and making new products are interconnected processes. By embracing lacquer as a material, they explore its possibilities beyond conventional expectations, driven by their own understanding rather than being confined by modern trends or habits.
The modest three-story building, with its cramped lacquer room and woodworking space, exudes a natural, pleasant aroma. Day after day, as the light gradually dims, they work on maki-e, lacquering, or woodworking, shaving thin wood curls with a well-honed plane. These actions have become muscle memory.
“Lacquer work is a very long process. While it's possible to quickly make something consumable, I still hope for a higher density of life in my work.”
