It is said that in the Sung Dynasty a recluse named Lin Pu fled the lures of fame and fortune to lead a solitary life planting flowers and raising cranes near China's beautiful West Lake. People say that he married plum blossoms and had cranes for sons. There's a man a bit like him in Taipei today, Mr. Chou Chung-chiu. He is in love with Chinese antiques, so much so that he has little or no time to spare after work for anything but his lovely collection of pottery, porcelain and bronzes.

We went to see Mr. Chou some time ago and from the moment we entered his apartment, we were stunned by the profusion of lovely objects. Classical porcelain bottles, pots vases and dishes lay scattered over the sofa and tables and looked out from open closets. Three bronze statues of the Goddess of Mercy stood on the TV set. Another three stone-carved statues of Buddha had sole possession of a rack in one corner of the room. A painting by the famous artist Pu Hsin-yu hung on one wall; books were piled everywhere. No corner of the four-room apartment seemed without its precious art works, hardly leaving room for the master himself. Despite the seeming disorder of the arrangement, a kind of cool self-possession marked the statues, lending a weird kind of dignity to the rooms.

The collector was anxious to explain about his treasures. "Did you notice this Buddha's lean face? He comes from Lungmen, a site in the old kingdom of Northern Wei. He's made of stone, and he was excavated along with many others. Can you imagine? At Lungmen more than a thousand grottos house over 100,000 Buddha statues. You cannot imagine how magnificent a sight this pageant of Lungmen can be! But I don't know how it is today. I've heard that many of the stone Buddhas were beheaded by robbers for sale to collectors. I fear for our cultural legacy and national treasures." Then he smiled, "We have to leave you now, lean-faced one. Your descendants will look fatter in the T'ang Dynasty."

Chou pointed out a bottle with a glaze as red as cow's blood. "I almost lost my life to get that one," he said. His story was that in 1959 he caught sight of this bottle at a provincial antique exhibit held in Hsinchu. He resolved to have it whatever the cost. The bottle's owner said that it was not for sale. It had been entrusted to him by a Japanese major general at the time of the Japanese defeat in World War II. But Mr. Chou was persistent, and finally, moved by his obvious love for the piece, the owner sold it to him for the equivalent of US$l40.

Mr. Chou did not have that much money at that time. He first gave all the money he had with him as a down payment. Then he hurried back to Taipei to borrow money from his friends. He even pawned his best suits to complete the amount needed. At last he had the money all together.

But August 7, l959 was the day of a great typhoon. Against his friends' advice, Chou went to Chiayi. When he walked out of the railway station, it was already eight in the evening. Water was knee-high in the streets. No cabs were running, and no one was in sight. He took off his shoes and plunged ahead. The water rose higher, and he lost his way. Two hours later he was wondering if he would ever make it, when finally he got to the owner's house. The man looked at him as if he were a lunatic. His lips were purple from the cold, his face bloodless, but his eyes shone with a fanatical ecstasy. At last the owner recognized the wild man before him as the person who ten days before had cared so much about the red glazed bottle. He took him in, and Chou in this way satisfied his desire to own the masterpiece which had almost cost him his life.

The bottle which meant so much to Chou turned out to have been fired from the Chun kiln sometime during the Sung Dynasty. In looks, it is rather metaphysical; thin mists and clouds seem to keep surging and swelling. The fascination of that dreamy glaze seems to draw one into its quietly moving solitude.

According to legend, one artist in the Sung Dynasty was so disappointed with the way his red glaze turned out that he jumped into the kiln and committed suicide. His spirit clung to the works of other masters. Some regarded works by these masters as evil, and smashed them. Others treated them as rare treasures drawn from the essence of the kiln's fire. In fact, this mysterious gossamer of red glaze came from the oxidization of the iron contained in the clay. Today sodium oxide is added to the glaze by some pottery makers to obtain this magnificent effect.

Chou says: "When I see a beautiful piece, or even think of one, my hair stands on end." They say true love always has a touch of madness in it. But looking at this man, dressed in plain clothes, rather slight to medium in figure, wearing a pair of gold-rimmed eyeglasses, one wonders where and how he was touched by the divine fire. What force brought him into such an inseparable relationship with antiques?

His childhood had something to do with it. He was born in Changsha in Hunan Province, not far from many of the country's leading kilns. As a child, he ate off porcelain made in the near by town of Chingteh during the reign of the Kuang Hsu Emperor of the Ching Dynasty. He remembers the beautiful patterns of those dishes. Also, he often sat by the roadside to watch the dust-covered old kilns puffing white smoke. At night their chimney fires reddened the skies. Later, he joined the army, and in his travels he saw many famous ancient sites and some of the works associated with them. When he came to Taiwan, though short of money, he continued to buy such small treasures as agate and jade.

One day he bought a standing statue of the Goddess of Mercy from the owner of an old house being demolished. The goddess had a buxom figure and a fair face; her hair was coiled in a bun; she wore a crown; in her left hand she held a heart purifying bottle; her right hand was raised in a gesture of blessing and condolence; her naked feet stood on a lotus pedestal. Three glazes of green, purple and yellow had been applied on the red pottery base. Chou began to consult authorities and to look up data. After a month, he was sure that his lady was indeed a Goddess of Mercy from the T'ang Dynasty. He was lost, From this time, his interest grew and grew, and he would travel any distance, suffer any hardship to get to where he had heard there might be a good piece.

Over the years, Mr. Chou has collected over a hundred pottery and porcelain treasures which are worth, in his estimation, over US$300,000. But he added: "In fact, to me these antiques are priceless. They represent the hearts and skills and dedication of generations of artists. For those who don't love them, they are worthless, but for those who do, they are almost more precious than life itself."

"If you want to be a true collector," said Mr. Chou, "You have to have a lot of experience; you have to know something of history, words, different kinds of glazes, even the Chinese philosophy involved." He off handedly picked up a pottery urn from an iron box and said, "This beauty, I am convinced, dates back to before the Han Dynasty. Notice the primitive dragon painted on the surface. Notice the simple and crude lines. And look at the dragon; it has four claws. This is called a crawling dragon, and such dragons were made only before the Han Dynasty. In the T'ang Dynasty, the body of the dragon becomes elongated and more animated. Dragons of the Ming Dynasty tend to be fierce and threatening, while those of the Ching Dynasty have heads somewhat like beetles and are painted in gorgeous colors."

Decoration of porcelain is an art in itself. Some floral patterns spread all over the surface, some are knife carved, others pierced by needles, some printed on wood, or even inlaid. Glazes are baked to show the patterns of melted candles, starry clouds, willow leaves, and plum blossoms. Some look like modern abstract paintings. In the Ching Dynasty, some artists painted specific areas on the surface of a bottle already spread with floral patterns. Thus, the craft reached its peak after it was combined with painting techniques.

Although it takes a coming together of time, place, and superb handiwork to give birth to masterworks of pottery and porcelain, almost all the great artists in this field have been anonymous. They historically have not had any scientific know-how. Their experience was passed down from generation to generation. They were always potters in a long line of potters. They knew how many firebrands should be added on rainy days and how to time their furnaces in mid-summer. These anonymous workers, unpraised and unsung, have given China one of the deepest and most vital parts of its cultural heritage.

In the future, Mr. Chou plans to write a book on Chinese antiques. He would also like to start a small museum so that he can share his riches with the interested public. But he says: "I don't know if my dream can materialize. My thoughts are big, but my salary is small."

At the conclusion of the interview, the interviewer asked Mr. Chou if he had ever considered getting married. He smiled without giving an answer but just looked around the room at his many loves, always perfect, always unchanging.

Since interviewing Mr. Chou, the writer has often walked among the curio and antique shops which abound in and near Taipei. Pedestrians stop and look at the antique tripods, cooking and eating vessels, vases and plates, serene Buddhas and mysterious Goddesses of Mercy. Some look at the antiques with scorn, almost anger. "Why should this junk cost so much?" they seem to say. Others, however, look in the windows with a kind of longing. For them, these curios are endowed with a sustaining power, something to lift them from the humdrum of today to the magic of the past.

The antiques themselves regard both the sceptics and their admirers with the same remote and cool gaze, beyond time.

[Picture Caption]

Opposite: This green porcelain tower is masterpiece of the Tsin dynasty (265-419). Buddha images are carved on the tower, showing the first spread of Buddhism in China. The roof is removable. Below from left are a plate with three-color peony motif of the Sung dynasty, a pre-historic style urn with small mouth and large body of the Tsin dynasty, and a Ming dynasty bowl.

1. A Sung dynasty urn with peony relief. 2. Sung dynasty ink slab with illustration of two fish. 3. A blue and white wine bottle of the Ming dynasty patterns after a full moon. 4. From left: A unicorn baked in a state-owned kiln of the Sung dynasty, a Buddha statue of the Northern Wei Kingdom, and a wine pitcher of the Sung dynasty. 5. Green porcelain Buddha niches made in the Tsin dynasty. 6. Colorful urn painted with peony and lion patterns.

1. Five pieces of porcelain in purple hue which are imitations of instruments used in sacrificial ceremonies, fired in the Chun kiln of the Sung dynasty. 2. This blue-and-red standing vase decorated with illustrations of dragons and plum flowers, was fired during the reign of Emperor Hsuan Teh of the Ming dynasty. 3. Wine cup with two handles (left) decorated with gold inlay on dark ground and lifelike characters, is a masterpiece of the Ching dynasty. At right is a jade-blue vase of the Yuan dynasty.

Below from left are a plate with three-color peony motif of the Sung dynasty, a pre-historic style urn with small mouth and large body of the Tsin dynasty, and a Ming dynasty bowl.

A Sung dynasty urn with peony relief.

Sung dynasty ink slab with illustration of two fish.

A blue and white wine bottle of the Ming dynasty patterns after a full moon.

From left: A unicorn baked in a state-owned kiln of the Sung dynasty, a Buddha statue of the Northern Wei Kingdom, and a wine pitcher of the Sung dynasty.

Green porcelain Buddha niches made in the Tsin dynasty.

Colorful urn painted with peony and lion patterns.

Five pieces of porcelain in purple hue which are imitations of instruments used in sacrificial ceremonies, fired in the Chun kiln of the Sung dynasty.

This blue-and-red standing vase decorated with illustrations of dragons and plum flowers, was fired during the reign of Emperor Hsuan Teh of the Ming dynasty.

Wine cup with two handles （left） decorated with gold inlay on dark ground and lifelike characters, is a masterpiece of the Ching dynasty. At right is a jade-blue vase of the Yuan dynasty.