As with previous volumes, this issue of the Journal of Korean Art and Archaeology, the second in the new format with improved illustrations, presents a selection of articles already published in Korean, to bring the fruits of the authors’ research to a wider, Western readership. It focuses to begin with on one of the best-known products of Korean art, the celadon ceramics that reached an incredible peak of perfection in their form and in the subtlety of their glaze, such that their reputation reached across the East Sea to China, and in the other direction to Japan, where the majority of the finest examples remain today, especially in the Museum of Oriental Ceramics, Osaka. Other major collections outside Korea are to be found in the Gompertz collection in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, UK, and in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Massachusetts.
However, the writers in this issue are concerned less with the outstanding quality of Goryeo celadons than with solving questions of their manufacture, dating and distribution in a historical context. Thus, Lee Jongmin examines the construction and location of the kilns, the earliest of which, dating from the second quarter of the tenth century, have been discovered in Hwanghae Province and the northern part of Gyeonggi Province, not far from the Goryeo capital, Gaeseong, situated to the northwest of present-day Seoul. These kilns were up to forty meters in length, and constructed using unfired bricks; their products were made for use in the Goryeo capital. Perhaps because of attacks from the north by the Khitan Liao, later kilns of smaller size and less solid construction were situated in the mid-west of the Korean peninsula, particularly in the region of Buan, on the coast of North Jeolla Province.
In the second article, Koo Illhoe focuses on those celadons from the Buan region, where the Yucheon-ri kilns, producing high quality celadons and architectural elements such as celadon roof-tiles, were discovered in 1929. Still later kilns, generally smaller in scale, but in much greater number, were found even further south along the coastal areas of South Jeolla Province. The products of these kilns were collected in twelve official warehouses and shipped to the capital by sea on an efficient annual basis, departing in the same month but arriving at different times according to the length of the journey. Shipwrecks have provided and are expected to continue to provide vivid evidence of this transportation system.
Jeon Seungchang’s article examines a different aspect of Goryeo celadon, produced in the late 13th century, apparently for presentation to the Mongol emperors, who however did not always appear to be much impressed: in a famous anecdote, when Khubilai Khan enquired whether the gold could be recovered if a vessel was broken, and received a reply in the negative, he directed that no more such porcelains should be sent. Few examples remain, but the author’s thorough investigation reveals the probable identity of the adhesive used, in conjunction with a second firing, to fix the gold decoration on the glazed celadon surface. In addition, a combination of historical reference and stylistic analysis serves to confirm the early 14th-century dating of celadon wares inscribed with the cyclical characters denoting individual years, helping to settle a question that has long been debated, since such cyclical characters only indicate the number of the year in a cycle of sixty, without any additional information as to which particular cycle, such as might be provided by a reign title or king’s name.
Yet another aspect of Goryeo celadon, already well known for its Buddhist associations, is explored in Kim Yunjeong’s article on Taoist motifs, documented by comparison of celadons with records of Taoist rituals performed in the royal court and recorded in the Goryeo official history. In addition to figural vessels in the shape of Taoist immortals, the most distinctive cranes-and-clouds pattern, one of the most elegant of all Goryeo celadon motifs, has clear associations with Taoist aspirations to longevity or immortality. In this case too, historical reference provides an important complement to the detailed examination of motifs, revealing that such celadon vessels were made in the latter part of the 13th century as substitutes for earlier ritual utensils made of jade or other precious materials, when the latter became scarce owing to the Mongol invasions of the first half of the 13th century.
The two articles headed Feature in this issue take us back to the archaeological sites and monuments of the Bronze Age, Early Iron Age, and Proto-Three Kingdoms periods. Lee Heejoon draws conclusions concerning the changing character from political or priestly to military authority, and finally to the economic power of ancient chiefdoms, through an investigation of the typical grave goods in each period. Moving on to the Three Kingdoms period, Lee Sungjoo argues that the forming method, rather than the in- troduction of high-temperature firing, was important in the social use of pottery vessels and in providing a means of distinguishing between Silla and Gaya styles throughout the fifth and early sixth centuries. Thus this article examines not merely the grave goods themselves, but the differences in the actual manufacture of pottery vessels used for ritual ceremonies and burials, as the use of the potter’s wheel spread throughout Silla and Gaya, enabling potters to produce a greater range of vessel types.
Another two articles complete this volume. The first of these, by Hwang Jungyon, examines literary references to the collection and appreciation of art in the late Joseon Dynasty, reversing the traditional Confucian view which held that attachment to material goods was detrimental to a person’s character. This view began to change in the 17th century, particularly under the influence of imported Chinese books on collecting and connoisseurship of works of art, particularly calligraphy and painting which it was natural for scholars to be able to appreciate. Those who were truly interested in art and antiquities strove to cultivate their expertise, even though they may have lacked the means to acquire a collection of their own; they were also influenced by Chinese example to aim at a life of reclusion. Eventually, those who did possess a substantial collection began to make it available to others through the construction of sujangcheo, a building that served as a library or museum that could be visited, a tradition that still continues to the present day.
The final article in this volume, by Min Kilhong, is devoted to a single painting of a different character, since it concerns an important occasion in the education of a Crown Prince, recorded in pictorial form from an aerial perspective, and accompanied by lengthy texts listing the participants and describing the ceremony, written on three panels of the same eight-panel screen. The occasion was when Crown Prince Munhyo met his officially appointed mentors in 1784. The screen, the sole surviving example to record this ceremony, serves both as a record of the occasion and as a blueprint for any future ceremony of the same kind. Readers may wish to compare this screen with the royal manuscript, Record of the Presentation Ceremony and Banquet in the gisa Year (1809), introduced in volume 04 of this Journal by Beth McKillop. Both works are executed from the same aerial viewpoint, and both feature an empty seat for the protagonist, Crown Prince Munhyo and Lady Hyegyeong, respectively, each with a large folding screen behind the seat. However, although the two works are only twenty-five years apart, each leaf of the 1809 album is shown in a far more pronounced oblique perspective that may betray a stronger western influence. The panels of the screen, on the other hand, are seen in almost directly frontal view: only in the main hall, which is brought right forward to occupy the central space, are the side walls depicted in steeply foreshortened view. The author of this article also points out how the painter of the screen followed the traditional technique of adding pigments in certain areas on the back of the painting surface, in a manner similar to that demonstrated in Lee Soomi’s article on the production process of late Joseon portraits, in volume 05 of this Journal. The illustrations in both volumes showing the back of the painting are especially helpful for the understanding of how these works were painted.
For this last volume of my editorship of the Journal, I would like to express my gratitude to the successive Directors of the National Museum of Korea for affording me the honor of undertaking this task, as well as my thanks to the translators and editorial staff, especially Ms Park Myoungsook and Ms Yoon Jiyeon who have responded so promptly and efficiently to a great number of comments and queries. I wish the Journal every success in future issues, which will build up into a handsome series which will be essential references for western scholars seeking to expand their knowledge of Korean art and archaeology.
Percival David Professor, Emeritus
SOAS, University of London