The potter has been kind enough to stay after hours to allow our small group to visit his studio. It is in an unremarkable concrete building, no different from the rest, which is why he greets us at the gate to lead us in. We inch past some ground-floor construction work and head up a couple of flights of stairs. The near-empty floors are spare and industrial. Once we enter his space, however, the ambience changes.
The light is softer thanks to a sheer curtain, patterned with a bamboo grove silhouette, which separates his workshop from his tearoom. The workshop is, as you would expect of a potter, studded with task lamps over a large bench, where various instruments wait their turn to shape the teapots he builds by hand.
The other room immediately declares itself as the domain of a tea-lover: on one side, a tea table surrounded by a sofa and couple of armchairs, plus a nearby stand with books about tea and teaware; on the other, cabinets of collected curios, and also shelves of his claywork displayed for sale.
We are immediately invited to take a seat at the tea table, but the pull of the curio cabinet is too strong. I don’t speak enough Mandarin to follow the entire conversation, but my companions – author Jinghong Zhang (Puer Tea: Ancient Caravans and Urban Chic), her husband Jingfeng, sociologist Dr Peter d’Abbs, and Sydney tea bar owner Cathy Zhang – do their best to loop me in.
Taking traditions forward
Cai relays his special interest in Qing Dynasty (1644–1911) pottery, which explains why the curio cabinet brims with pieces he has bought and found over the years, vintage teapots and cups made of both Chaozhou clay and porcelain, and even fragments of teaware discovered at old kiln sites.
His family has a history in ceramics, which explains his interest in this art form. “My father and grandfather used to make ceramics themselves. A lot of people here are in the ceramic industry, and my relatives are also in the ceramic industry. So I grew up playing with mud in my parents’ studio,” he explains. “When I was 19 years old and started working, my father took me to a hand-pulled teapot studio to learn the craft of making teapots. Gradually, I went from not knowing how to make teapots to liking them.”
This interest deepened when he started incorporating the older forms into his practice. “When I started making Mugu teapots, I would refer to these old utensils and then improve them according to my current craftsmanship, so I gradually fell in love with them.”
Local clay for local tea
Chaozhou is the epicentre of Phoenix Dan Cong (Fenghuang Shan 凤凰山), a diversely aromatic oolong. Locals often brew it in porcelain or ceramic gaiwans, a neutral material, to ensure the aroma comes forward in each infusion. True Dan Cong connoisseurs, however, prefer to use teapots made of the local red clay. The clay’s characteristics – its low shrinkage ratio and higher porosity, compared to other popular clays in China – mean Chaozhou tea pots tend to be smaller and tighter than other gongfu teapot styles. This allows for concentrated infusions with high heat retention while the teapot is closed, which pulls the aroma compounds out. When the lid is removed, the heat is quickly released, reducing bitterness extraction between serves. Furthermore, over time, the porosity of the clay gives the teapot a patina that’s said to enhance the flavour of the tea.
For Cai, the teapot is a natural extension of Chaozhou tea culture. “We Chaozhou people have been drinking phoenix Dan Cong tea since we were young. When I was very young, my elders would hold me and feed me tea. I would also make tea with my elders. I would also learn to make gongfu tea when there were guests like my parents. We drink a cup of Dan Cong tea every day after dinner, and tea culture is a habit in our daily life. Later, we gradually got to know the hand-pulled teapot.”
Shaping the future of Chaozhou tea traditions
He works almost exclusively in Chaozhou red clay. His signature product is the pear-shaped teapot, particularly the design by Lu Si Ting (陆思亭) that became popular in the Qing Dynasty. The broad, rounded body of the teapot has excellent heat retention. The narrower top and slim spout demonstrate both the potter’s skill and add elegance and balance to its form.
“I started trying it [the pear-shaped design] in 2018 and did it wholeheartedly in 2020,” says Cai. Since then, he’s been on a mission to make the smallest working pear-shaped teapot, which he reckons will bottom out at 50ml – any smaller than that and a spout in the right ratio will be too narrow to pour properly.
Jinhong has gravitated to the guqin in the corner of the tearoom. She starts playing a piece from the sheet music abandoned there. The soft string notes turn the studio into a teahouse. Cai serves us Eight Immortals lao cha tou (‘old tea heads’) in one of his teapots. The term lao cha tou is usually associated with the wet-piling of pu’er, but this Dan Cong version is from clumps of tea leaves formed during the rolling stage. Its fragrance – notes of stone fruit and orange blossom – starts intense and the flavour unfolds gracefully over many infusions.
Making Gongfu-style tea pets
On the tea table sits a two-piece clay rocking horse. It turns out that Cai has a side project in tea pets. Tea pets are companions that accompany tea sessions, usually made of the same clay as teapots. When serving tea gongfu style, the host pours waste water and any excess tea over the pot. This develops a patina over time. Popular subjects for tea pets are animals, particularly three-legged Beidou-studded (Northern Dipper) money toad Jin Chan and those of the Chinese zodiac. Plants like lotuses, or fruits like pumpkins and gourds, are also popular.
Cai’s other original creation is a strange-looking bovine with a dent in its head instead of eyes. He picks it up and demonstrates. The body is small enough for an adult’s palm to wrap around it. The dent is the perfect place to rest your thumb. It’s a calming device, designed as an anti-anxiety figurine and tea pet in one.
Born in 1996, Cai strikes an interesting balance between the old world of the Qing Dynasty and modern gongfu practice. While he continues to perfect the pear-shaped teapots of classic Chaozhou, he’s also forging a playful path with his original tea accessories. And like the dented cow, it looks like the future of Chaozhou pottery is in good hands.
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