I recently inherited a porcelain tea set from my great-grandmother, and it was an important part of my childhood. At our house, when I was young, it was considered almost sacred. These cups and saucers were only brought out from the sideboard on major holidays for our most esteemed guests. Otherwise, they were stored in cardboard boxes, wrapped in newspapers, and I wasn't allowed to touch them. You see, after my older brother broke one of the saucers, the tea set was declared off-limits to children.
This much revered tea set was part of the famous Cobalt Net collection made by the Lomonosov Porcelain Factory. If my memory serves me correctly, my great-grandmother received it as a gift for her anniversary from her workplace. And as a child, it didn't seem particularly attractive to me—my heart was drawn to brighter things. I liked our simple, everyday faience bowls with orange apples and funny horses much more.
A few years before my great-grandmother's passing, she made her arrangements, specifying what each of her relatives would inherit. The tea set came to me because, according to her, I was destined for poverty and domestic instability. She assumed that no one would marry me as she believed that I was entirely lacking in any useful skills. Porcelain, on the other hand, was a valuable possession. She thought I could sell it and, for some time, provide myself with my daily bread. I was about ten years old when my great-grandmother announced her decision very solemnly, and for a long time, I was confident that I was an heiress. After all, I would inherit a set of precious porcelain!
Well, had I lived in a different era, this may well have been the case. At one point, genuine porcelain was indeed incredibly valuable and worth more than gold, considering its weight.
From ceramics to proto-porcelain
Porcelain was first made in China, but its creation was the result of millennia of experimenting with clay. Ancient ceramics from this region, dating back to the Mesolithic period, around 7–8000 BCE, exhibit similar characteristics to pottery found across the world: simple forms, rudimentary firing techniques, early scratched patterns, and made using the traditional Asian practice of adorning pottery using the 'cord-marked' method, in which a rope is wound around the still-damp vessel to create patterns.
By the fifth millennium BCE, pottery shapes became more intricate, and artisans began selecting higher-quality yellow loess clayiLoess (German). Loose sedimentary loamy-sandy rock. mixed with sand for firing. Subsequent archaeological discoveries unveil a diverse array of ceramics in ancient China. Pottery was painted with vibrant pigments and adorned with intricate designs featuring zoomorphic and anthropomorphic figures amidst vegetal ornaments. The pottery from the Yangshao and Longshan cultures (fifth to second millennia BCE) represented well-established craftsmanship. Complex vessel forms emerged, featuring elongated legs and figurative handles. Significant experiments with clay composition and processing methods also took place during this period. For instance, the polished black pottery of the Longshan culture closely resembled basalt, while the gray pottery of the Shan culture imitated marble, thanks to various additives introduced into the clay mixture by skilled potters.
In the second millennium BCE, ancient China produced cups, dishes, and pitchers that exceeded the category of ‘primitive’ and surpassed ‘folk’ pottery in terms of craftsmanship. These items were crafted in family workshops and were unmatched in their meticulous finishing. The clay resembled jade, jasper, or turquoise, and had a polished, flawless surface with intricate designs. Lacquer, metal inlays, mother of pearl, and stones were frequently utilized to decorate it. Often, we come across pottery that imitates bronze vessels since these utensils were incredibly expensive. Ceramicists aimed to lend their creations a 'luxurious' appearance, striving to make them resemble bronze.
The increasing number of pottery kilns in Chinese kingdoms, coupled with the growing expertise of the artisans operating them, led to the production of more intricate ceramics. A significant qualitative shift occurred around the fifth to sixth centuries BCE, with the introduction of new kiln designs that allowed for substantially higher firing temperatures, unlocking new possibilities. High-quality lead glazes were introduced, resulting in ceramics that were denser and more durable. This innovation also made it possible to incorporate refractory materials into the clay. It was during this period that what the Chinese referred to as ‘porcelain’ and what European connoisseurs labeled as ‘proto-porcelain’ made its debut.
Proto-porcelain, while less porous than the familiar faience, was considerably heavier and denser than true porcelain. It was crafted using kaolin, a white clay sourced from the mountains of Jiangxi, a province in southeastern China. Today, this ancient porcelain is highly prized, but during its own era, it did not enjoy global acclaim. Although proto-porcelain items were more intricate, robust, and aesthetically appealing than ordinary ceramics, they were not considered valuable enough to justify transporting these fragile, heavy, and relatively inexpensive goods in significant quantities to the West. The global history of Chinese porcelain began much later.
Weightless, Transparent, and Priceless
Another revolution occurred in the thirteenth century during the reign of Kublai Khan. Artisans had learned to fire ceramics at incredibly high temperatures of around 1,500 degrees Celsius. This advancement might have been driven by the ‘steel boom’ that accompanied the emergence of new techniques of producing steel weaponry, which also proved beneficial for more peaceful professions. We do not know which master first mixed kaolin, feldspar, and quartz in the right proportions to create an exceptionally translucent, lightweight material. Nor do we know precisely when they decided to incorporate ash from burnt bones into this mixture, achieving remarkable delicacy and whiteness in the resulting ceramics. What we do know is that even before the world fell in love with Chinese porcelain, it earned the title of ‘Imperial Porcelain’ in China, implying imperial excellence. This new type of porcelain most likely first appeared in one of the ‘Five Great Kilns’, which were large ceramic production centers that operated under direct imperial control, primarily catering to the emperor's orders. The name ‘Imperial Porcelain’ was probably chosen to emphasize the superiority of this new type of porcelain over any other or to indicate that such a perfect item was fit only for the ruler's table.
Incidentally, the word 'фарфор' (farfor) in the Russian language is a Persian loanword derived from this title. Europeans, on the other hand, began calling the new ceramics 'porcelain' in reference to the pearl shells (porcellino) that it resembled in delicacy, durability, and sheen. The Kazakh word for porcelain, 'кәрлен' (karlen), has a much-debated origin. One theory suggests it came from the surname of an eighteenth-century Sèvres master, Karl, whose vases were once acquired by a khan. Another theory traces it back to the Greek 'κεραμικός' (keramikos).
By the fifteenth century, a Chinese porcelain service cost a small fortune in Europe. It was transported with great care, wrapped in cotton and velvet, transported mainly by Genoese and Venetian merchants, who would later face fierce competition from the Portuguese. Owning porcelain was a privilege reserved mainly for dukes,iThe traditional title of the head of the Venetian Republic. princes, and emperors. Soon, the secret of porcelain began to captivate alchemists, inventors, entrepreneurs, and powerful lords, all of whom understood that whoever could establish local porcelain production would become richer than any earthly king.
Trials and Errors
The first accounts of success came from Venetian glassmakers. Records indicate that as far back as the fifteenth century, a master named Antonio achieved results that closely resembled porcelain. Several other glassmakers and mirror-makers attempted to produce porcelain, but we have scant information about Venetian porcelain from that era, implying that their inventions were not unequivocal successes.
However, by the late sixteenth century, with the gracious approval of the Medici duke, regular porcelain production was established in Florence. Although genuine Chinese porcelain wasn't being replicated yet, the Florentines began producing what would now be termed soft porcelain. It contained significantly less kaolin than the ‘hard’ variety, was fired at lower temperatures, and had certain disadvantages, including a natural slightly yellowish color, increased fragility, and, most significantly, greater porosity. Consequently, tableware made of soft porcelain had to be glazed with a thick glaze of lead glass.
Soon after, the renowned French Sevres porcelain emerged. Like Medici porcelain, it was soft, and although it was quite expensive, it commanded far short of the prices that 'authentic Chinese goods' could fetch. Legend has it that in the late seventeenth century, King Augustus the Strong of Saxony, in exchange for a large set of Chinese porcelain, ceded an entire cavalry regiment to his Prussian counterpart. Confirming the veracity of this ancient tale is challenging—as is disproving it. However, it is certain that Augustus held great respect for porcelain. In any case, the invention of European hard porcelain, a product to rival Chinese porcelain, occurred in his Königstein castle in the early eighteenth century.
Porcelain Instead of Gold
Here, we once again step into the realm of captivating yet questionable legends. The frequently recounted tale of Johann Friedrich Böttger, the alleged inventor of European porcelain, has been told in various versions across both artistic and popular literature.
This young apprentice to a Berlin apothecary once made a bold claim at a large gathering. He asserted that by delving into ancient alchemists' recipes, he had learned the secret of turning lead into gold—almost. The only missing ingredients were a bit of financial backing and access to a well-equipped workshop. According to legend, news of this exaggeration reached the Prussian king,iThis is Frederick I. who promptly ordered the apprentice to be arrested and confined in a cellar, demanding that he produce gold for the royal treasury.
Alerted by well-meaning individuals, the young man (Böttger was a mere nineteen years old at the time) fled from Prussia to Saxony. However, his escape led him from one peril to another. He ended up in the hands of Augustus the Strong, the very same king who had ordered his capture. King Augustus began interrogating him, seeking the secret of transmuting lead into gold. Realizing that resisting the king's demands could lead to torture, Böttger claimed that, indeed, it was possible to turn lead into gold, as the ancient alchemists had done. However, he argued that the secret needed to be reconstructed. As a result, Böttger found himself not in a dank cellar but effectively under house arrest in Königstein.
There, over several years, from 1701 to 1704, he fruitlessly attempted to achieve the transmutation of lead into gold. Instead, he stumbled upon the invention of exquisite porcelain while experimenting with firing cruciblesiContainer for heating, drying, firing, or melting various materials. for his alchemical pursuits. For this serendipitous discovery, he received acclaim and a full pardon from the king, absolving him of any wrongdoing regarding the transmutation of lead.
This legend, however, raises numerous questions. Firstly, the Prussian king at the time, Frederick I, was not the kind of ruler to entertain the claims of apprentice apothecaries, let alone pursue them across Europe. He was known for his rationality. Secondly, King Augustus, while respectful of inventors and accommodating them in his realm, was not known for hunting them down either. He was, after all, an enlightened monarch. Most significantly, Böttger's experiments in Königstein were not conducted in isolation. The castle's commandant was Count Tschirnhaus, a scholar, naturalist, and physicist, a man deeply interested in glassmaking, who had long been working on creating porcelain.
Therefore, it is more likely that this romantic story is a complete fabrication from start to finish. Sadly, it is now next to impossible to determine its original author. Judging by the sequence of events, Böttger, a young and promising chemist, was likely simply invited to assist Count Tschirnhaus. Together, they dedicated several years to the pursuit of porcelain and eventually achieved success. It fell to Böttger to introduce their invention to production because Count Tschirnhaus passed away in 1708. Böttger managed this task splendidly, as the Meissen porcelain factory, located near the town of Meissen, began operations in 1710. It continues to operate to this day, and Meissen porcelain has enjoyed immense fame for 300 years. The Russian Imperial Porcelain Factory, now known as the Lomonosov Porcelain Factory (LFZ), initially modeled its work on what Meissen had achieved.
As for my Cobalt Net tea service, it is hidden in my cupboard, stored in boxes. It is a cherished memory of my great-grandmother, and I still hesitate to use it, fearing I might break something. Although it would hardly fetch enough to buy a cavalry regiment today, my reverential attitude toward porcelain—so fragile, delicate, and transparent—still lingers!
What to read
1. Vainker S.J. 'Chinese Pottery and Porcelain.' London: British Museum Press, 1991.
2. Vasilieva E., Bu I. 'Porcelain Zhuyao and the Principles of Minimalism: On the Problem of Form Sensation.' Bulletin of Tomsk State University. Cultural Studies and Art History, 2021.
3. Burovik K.A. 'The Red Book of Things.' 'Economics,' 1996.