Many anecdotes are told about the enormous value attached to these little tea caddies or cha-ire. They were often given by rulers to their generals and officials in recognition of special merit or to celebrate some happy occasion. They were presented as a tribute by retainers to their lord, and stories are told about how a lord would sell such priceless treasures during a time of famine so that he could buy rice for his subjects. One of the most famous of these stories is that of the clerk who was sent to China, where he fell in love with a beautiful courtesan upon whom he squandered all his master's money. When he left, she gave him a tea jar reported to be of great value. This the faithless clerk presented to his master, a rich merchant of Osaka, who was so delighted with it that he forgave the clerk his misdeeds and restored him to his former position. Another well-known story is that of the lord who, besieged in his castle and facing certain defeat, cut open his stomach and hid a precious tea jar in it so that it would not be destroyed. It is also said that the famous military dictator Hideyoshi presented Ieyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa dynasty, with a tea jar called Shirakumo or White Clouds, and that at another time Ieyasu sent Hideyoshi, after one of his victories, the tea jar Hatsuhana or Early Spring Flower, as a reward and token of his esteem.
Such treasured tea jars and tea bowls, as this account suggests, were given personal names and have often been handed down from generation to generation. The most precious of them were usually wrapped in gorgeous brocade bags, placed in triple boxes, and guarded by officials especially appointed to look after them. The value attached to them was of course not purely artistic but also historical, for the fact that these jars and bowls were first presented to their owners by such famous men as Nobunaga or Hideyoshi, or had been used at such celebrated occasions as the cherry-blossom party at the Sambo-in of the Daigo-ji or the great tea party at the Kitano pine grove in Kyoto, naturally increased their prestige.
The names given to these celebrated tea utensils were usually taken from their shapes, from their markings or their glazes, or from one of their owners. For example, there is a famous tea caddy called Kyogoku Bunrin Cha-ire, which means the apple-shaped tea caddy owned by Lord Kyogoku. The most famous of all tea caddies is the one mentioned above known as Hatsuhana Katatsuki, the first word meaning early spring flower and the second describing a certain broad-shouldered type of jar. Its first owner was no less a person than the great fifteenth-century art patron, the Ashikaga Shogun Yoshimasa, and among its later owners were Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Ieyasu, the three outstanding rulers of modern Japan. Among numerous well-known tea bowls, one of the most valuable is the one called Fuji-san, which was made during the early seventeenth century by the famous calligrapher, potter, and swordsman, Hon'ami Koetsu, as a dowry for his daughter. It is so named because the grayish-white glaze suggests the snow on top of Mt. Fuji, and the dark gray of the lower part recalls the mist at the foot of the mountain shortly before daybreak.
The value of these old and famous pieces was already legendary during the sixteenth century, when the rise of the tea ceremony created a great demand for fine old tea caddies, tea bowls, and other utensils required for it. Many of the best were actually imported from China or Korea, where they had been considered quite ordinary wares. Others were made by the most notable Japanese potters, such as the members of the Raku family in Kyoto or the descendants of the Seto potter Kato Toshiro, who is generally credited with having established the Japanese ceramic industry. Some of these pieces have been handed down in the same families for many generations and are today considered priceless heirlooms and national treasures.
As early as 1585 the Jesuit Father Frois reported that the king (that is, the daimyo) of Bungo paid as much as 14,000 ducats for an old jar, while a jar broken into three pieces brought 1,400 ducats. The Italian writer Gualteri, describing the arrival of the Japanese mission in Rome in 1586, relates that old tea caddies, tea bowls, and iron kettles brought incredibly high prices—as much as four or five thousand gold ducats or even more. Father dAlmeida reports that in Kyoto there was a man who owned a tea caddy valued at 30,000 ducats, and Antonio de Morga, writing in 1609, says that very ancient pottery jars of dark-brown color and poor appearance, with inscriptions and seals, were avidly collected by the Japanese, packed in brocade bags, and sold for 2,000 taels—this at a time when money was much rarer and far more valuable than it is today.
This high evaluation of ceramics has continued right down to the present day in spite of all the changes that Japanese culture has undergone. For example, a celebrated tea caddy, not much more than three inches in height and covered with a brownish glaze of varying intensity, was sold in the Sakai sale for the sum of 200,000 yen, which at the time was equal to 100,000 dollars and is the equivalent of at least twice that much in today's dollars. Many Western authors have called such prices ridiculous, and so they might be if their artistic merit alone were considered. They certainly prove, however, that the Japanese, like the Chinese, put the best productions of their potters on an equal footing with the finest works of their painters, not to mention sculptors and architects. A famous tea caddy known as Kitano Katatsuki was bought by the Mitsui family in 1922 for no less than 159,000 yen—worth at least that number of dollars in terms of today's purchasing power. Yet another tea bowl in a Tokyo sale brought the fantastic sum of 167,000 yen. Equally amazing were the prices reached at the sale of the Maeda collection by auction in 1925, in which a simple Oribe cha-ire brought 57,000 yen, while other tea caddies went for prices such as 47,910 and 36,900 yen. One could cite other surprising prices paid for rare pottery objects that are remarkable from an aesthetic point of view and have significant historical associations as well. Harada Jiro, in his book A Glimpse of Japanese Ideals, mentions several other astonishing cases. A celadon flower vase one foot high brought 135,000 yen, and an offer of 100,000 yen for a tea bowl owned by a Kyoto temple was refused with the characteristic reply that the bowl could always bring enough money to rebuild the temple, should occasion arise. Such tea bowls were considered as precious as gold or land and sometimes were actually exchanged for castles or preferred to an extension of a lord's domain.
Granted that these exceptional prices were paid by the devotees of the tea ceremony and were not ordinary occurrences, it still remains a fact that in Japan the art of the potter has enjoyed a prestige that it has never attained in the West. The best of Japanese porcelains, especially the finest Kakiemon and Nabeshima wares, are valued very highly, although the prices they bring never equal those paid for tea utensils. It is not unknown for a Japanese to sell his property in order to buy one precious piece of ceramic ware, as much for an investment that will withstand all fluctuations of the economy as for its intrinsic aesthetic value. Even during the recent postwar period, when the future of Japan was so uncertain, people who had money to invest often would prefer a valuable bowl or jar to stocks or real estate as a safer form of investment. As soon as the Japanese economy began to recover, the price of such art objects at once began to go up, with the result that really fine pieces of Japanese ceramic wares have never left the country, since no Westerners have ever been willing to pay (even for the masterpieces of Japanese pottery) the kind of prices that Japanese collectors have always been willing to offer.
Color Plate 2. Bizen jar. Mo-moyama period. Collection of Dr. Okabe, Tokyo.
The high sum paid for celebrated pieces of old ceramics finds its counterpart in sales of contemporary art, for the famous modern potters such as Hamada Shoji, Kawai Kanjiro, Kitaoji Rosanjin, and Tomimoto Kenkichi are highly esteemed in a way no potter can hope to be in Europe or America. Their names are well known not only by other potters but also by art lovers and even by the general public. Articles and books are published about them, and large exhibitions of their work are held in the leading department stores and art galleries of Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka. Even the government recognizes their contribution to the national culture by giving them the title of "living cultural assets," paying them pensions, and awarding them prizes. Their works are sold at high prices and in quantity, so that, unlike potters in the West, they are able to live off their output instead of being forced to teach or make industrial art. The reason for this is, of course, that Japanese culture has never made the unhappy distinction