The invention of the inkstone, which is used along with water to grind hard inksticks into liquid ink, was a milestone in the development of China's literary culture. The inkstone became the indispensable tool of every scholar and calligrapher in China, and ultimately itself became an item of artistic appreciation.
Today, Chinese calligraphers still grind ink in much the same manner as was done several millennia ago, and antique collectors throughout Asia pay hefty prices for valuable old specimens. Ballpoint pens and computers have yet to relegate the inkstone to the same fate as the stone tools of China's early ancestors.
The inkstone, together with the inkstick, writing brush, and paper, are collectively known as the "four treasures of the scholar's study." The development and use of the inkstone is closely related to the other three, especially the inkstick. Writing ink in China was not manufactured in liquid form from plant dyes, as was common in Occidental countries. Instead, the soot from burning pine logs was collected over a screen, mixed with a natural resin, and then hung to dry (see FCR, April 1986). The hardened inkstick, which could vary in size and shape depending on the mold used prior to drying, was then ready for use, awaiting a calligrapher to grind it on an inkstone's abrasive surface.
Practically speaking, an inkstone should possess certain qualities. Beyond the aesthetic appeal of the stone's shape itself, there are several other important criteria. The first concerns effectiveness. Since inksticks do not dissolve upon contact with water, they need to be ground upon a sufficiently abrasive surface. An attempt to grind ink on a poor inkstone can be as fruitful as trying to squeeze water from a stone. Yet if the surface is too abrasive, it can easily damage the delicate animal hairs of the writing brush when it is drawn through the ink. The best stone will provide the proper degree of abrasiveness, nothing more and nothing less.
It is equally important that once the ink is ground, it does not evaporate quickly from the surface of the stone. It is not unusual to see an experienced calligrapher blowing lightly on the surface of an inkstone, much as one would do before cleaning a camera lens, in order to test its quality. The longer the condensed breath remains visible on the stone's surface, the better it is. If such a method seems somewhat less than scientific, it nevertheless is one still used today. In fact, although the inkstone has undergone several changes over the centuries, the basic practical evaluations of its quality remain unchanged.
In an attempt to satisfy both practical needs and aesthetic tastes of calligraphers and collectors over the years, many different materials besides stone were used in the manufacture of inkstones, including ceramic, jade, lacquerware, bronze, and iron. However, stone and ceramic were the common material of choice, being most suitable for the practical task of grinding ink. Inkstones made of jade and lacquerware often were aesthetically pleasing, but not sufficiently abrasive. Although a small charcoal fire could be lit under bronze and iron inkstones, preventing the ink from freezing during cold north China winters, they also proved less than ideal for grinding ink.
New archaeological discoveries constantly push the earliest believed date for the use of inkstones further back into Chinese antiquity. In 1975, archaeologists uncovered an inkstone from an ancient tomb in the Yunmeng area of Hupeh Province. It proved to be approximately 2,200 years old, dating back to the Chin Dynasty (221-206 B.C.). This particular discovery was important because it yielded the first inkstone dated to before the Christian era. But archaeologists were soon to move the date back much further.
Only five years later, a phenomenal archaeological find made international news: the discovery of an inkstone over five thousand years old. Excavated at the Lintung Chiangchai Neolithic site, just fifteen kilometers from the famous Panpo Neolithic site at Sian, Shensi Province, archaeologists date it to the early part of the Yangshao Neolithic pottery culture.
Uncovered together with the inkstone were ink pellets and a ceramic waterpot, both used with the inkstone. China did not have a written language at that early date, but archaeologists have long believed that many of the designs on the painted pottery from that time were done with a brush. The excavated brush, together with the inkstone, ink, and waterpot, constitutes a complete Neolithic painting set, and remains the earliest predecessor of three of the scholar's "four treasures" found so far.
Despite its ancient age, the inkstone excavated from the Chiangchai site is anything but primitive. It has a cover, and a depressed surface for grinding the ink. It therefore closely resembles the inkstones familiar several millennia later. This early inkstone, however, like the one uncovered in Yunmeng, was used in a somewhat different manner from later inkstones because of the form of ink. The ink pellets found with these early stones were too small to be held in the hand and ground like more recent inksticks. Instead, both of these early discoveries were found with another stone shaped like a pestle; the ink was ground by putting an ink pellet on the surface of the larger inkstone, then the smaller pestle was used to grind the ink pellet.
Other discoveries have shown that by the advent of the Christian era stone was no longer used for the manufacture of inkstones. For almost a millennium, ceramic became the material of choice. However, these inkstones were very different from other ceramic ware of the time. Ceramic roofing tiles from Chinese palaces provided an unusual yet very suitable material for making inkstones. Rectangular in shape and curved like a quarter moon, a small ink well and water reservoir was chiseled out of the center of the tile. For greater durability, these roof tiles were fired in kilns at higher temperatures than ordinary ceramic ware, producing a fine, hard surface. Ink-sticks could be easily ground on this type of inkstone, which had the added quality of not damaging brushes or retarding the evaporation of ground ink.
The Chengni inkstone is considered the best of all the ceramic types. Gaining popularity during the Tang Dynasty (618-907), it was by far the most difficult of all inkstones, ceramic or otherwise, to manufacture. According to historical records, first a cloth bag was suspended in a running stream. After approximately one year, the bag was removed from the water, by which time fine silt had gathered in the bag. Small rocks and other impurities were then filtered out, and the remaining silt dried in the sun. It was next mixed with huang tan tuan, a resinous plant substance, and kneaded together. After being shaped in a mold and decorated with a knife, it was removed from the mold, placed in a bag containing rice husks and cow manure, and hung in a dark, cool place to dry. It was later fired in a ceramic kiln for approximately ten days. After cooling, it was covered with black wax, submerged in a vat of rice vinegar, and finally steamed over high heat about a half dozen times.
The color of the finished inkstone depended on the area of production and other variables such as the temperature of the kiln. If the last couple of production steps sound like a page from the Chinese culinary arts, then the names given to the different colors of inkstones are off the menu of a seafood restaurant. These include, among others, "shrimp head red," "crab shell blue," "eel orange," and "fish stomach white." The final appearance of the Chengni inkstone was very similar to that of stone, and supposedly equally as hard. It had a metallic sound to it when struck, and even a steel knife could not scratch its surface. Although these inkstones were highly regarded at the time, difficulty of production was no doubt partially responsible for their growing scarcity after the Tang Dynasty.
By the Sung Dynasty (960-1279), inkstones once more started to be made almost exclusively of stone. This reflected the mature artistic expression of the Sung period, where the emphasis was no longer on complexity of manufacture, but on the simple and refined beauty of natural stone. The preference has endured up to the present day.
Clearly, not just any stone could be used to make an inkstone because of aesthetic and practical considerations. According to the History of the Inkstone, written by Mi Fei, the Sung scholar, calligrapher, and fanatic collector of inkstones, stones from thirteen different regions of China were used in the manufacture of inkstones. In addition, inkstones were embellished with carving, both with designs and calligraphy. Elevated from the status of utilitarian items, good inkstones were cherished as works of art in themselves. It was during the Sung that the inkstone, along with brush, inkstick, and paper, was given the accolade of the "four treasures of the scholar's study."
Not all stones are created equal, and of all the areas which produced inkstones during the Sung, three were considered to be the best: those from Tuanchou, Hsichou, and Chingchou. Before long, stones from Chingchou were unobtainable, and those from Yaoho were considered equally valuable. Together with the Chengni inkstone, which was still produced in limited numbers during the Sung, the four were crowned as China's most famous inkstones. Today, a millennium later, these are still considered the best by antique collectors. Moreover, the inkstones from the area formerly known as Tuanchou and Hsichou are still being produced by contemporary craftsmen.
Inkstones made from Tuanchou stone were known as Tuanhsi inkstones. Tuanchou is located in modern day Kwangtung Province's Kaoyao County. When Kwangtung's West River passes by the city of Chaoching and turns east, it passes through the Lingyang Gorge, on the southern side of which is a mountain range. The principal peak of this range, the 800 meter high Fuko Mountain, is the area where the majority of Tuanhsi stones were mined. The stones were first mined during the Tang Dynasty, but became especially prized during the Sung, and have continued in popularity up to the present. At the beginning of the Sung, there were over seventy mines for Tuanhsi stone in the Fuko Mountain area.
Tuanhsi inkstones are smooth to the touch, but grind inksticks with great efficiency. They are purplish in color, which varies in shades from bluishy; purple to almost black. Sometimes streaks of red, orange, white, or other colors run through the stone, adding to its beauty and value. The most precious color is considered to be a green or orange marking called "eyes," because they do in fact look like small eyes on the surface of the stone. This sort of marking can appear on a stone in several spots, and a clever inkstone craftsman can incorporate them into his design.
Hsichou inkstones came from the mountain area between present day Wuyuan County in Kiangsi Province, and Hsichou in Anhwei Province. The stones mined from this region are an argillite, a metamorphic rock intermediate between shale and slate which is both harder and smoother than Tuanhsi stones. When struck, Hsichou stone gives off a high, almost metallic ring. Its colors include black or blue-black, as well as green and coffee color. Hsichou stone started to be mined on a large scale during the Southern Tang Dynasty (937-975).
The Emperor Li Ching was given a Hsichou inkstone as a present by the governor of Hsichou County, and was so fond of it that he commissioned a government factory for their mining and production. Tremendous amounts were mined toward the end of the Sung Dynasty; so much, in fact, that there was none to be had in the dynasties that followed.
The "red silk" inkstones of Ching-chou, and those of Yaoho, were extremely rare because they could never be mined on a large scale. The Yaoho inkstones were made of stone from the bottom of the Yao River in the distant western province of Kansu. Not only was transportation to the area difficult, the stones were also difficult to remove from the river. Eventually the river changed course due to a flood, and it became unclear where the original area for the Yaoho stones was actually to be found. Yaoho inkstones come in muted shades of yellow, green, or ivory. Old records concerning inkstones have called the Yaoho stones the "king of inkstones," but this might be more a result of their rarity than any actual superiority over Tuanhsi or Hsichou inkstones.
The making of inkstones reached its peak during the Sung, but this did not deter craftsmen of later dynasties from looking for new sources of stones and experimenting with new designs. A true imperial fanatic for good inkstones was the Ching Dynasty's Emperor Chien lung (1736-1796). He had imperial inkstone workshops commissioned in the Forbidden City, and scoured the country for good specimens of inkstones, both new and old. He was especially fond of inkstones made from northern China's Sungari River, which had previously not received much attention. Chien-lung's efforts stimulated production throughout China, and centers for the manufacturing of inkstones were established in Kwangtung, Kiangsu, Chekiang, Anhwel, and other provinces. The number of new designs and styles created during Chienlung's reign exceeded those of practically any previous dynasty. The inkstones currently found in the National Palace Museum in Taipei come primarily from the collection assembled under his direction.
Since Sung times, scholars and calligraphers alike have found the qualities of excellent inkstones particularly endearing. Of the "four treasures," paper was used only once, inksticks were ground down to nothing, and brushes wore out. Only the inkstone, if properly cared for, could last indefinitely. While no little effort went into securing the best paper, inksticks, and brushes, calligraphers retained a special affection for the inkstone, which could conceivably serve them for a lifetime. Oftentimes when a particularly valuable inkstone was found, its owner might add his own calligraphic inscription to it. This practice has made it possible to track the ownership of various famous inkstones which were passed down over time, each famous scholar adding his own inscriptions. Needless to say, such inkstones are highly treasured today, and more often than not are in museum collections.
It was not unusual for scholars to go to great extremes to possess an inkstone they especially liked. For example, one time Sung scholar and master calligrapher Mi Fei was asked by Emperor Huei Tzung,(1105-1125) to complete a calligraphic work in his presence. When Mi Fei had finished, the emperor was extremely pleased with the calligraphy, and asked him what he desired as a reward. Mi Fei replied that he sought no monetary compensation, but if the emperor would be so kind as to give him the ink stone he had just used to grind the ink, he would be more than satisfied.
The emperor of course possessed a "tremendous collection of precious inkstones and was not going to begrudge one to Mi Fei, especially since he was inclined to call on his calligraphic services in the future. After the emperor agreed to the request, Mi Fei wasted no time in securing his prize: without a thought about decorum at the foot of the Dragon Throne, he picked up the inkstone, wet ink and all, and stuffed it into the folds of his gown, splattering it with ink. Fortunately, the emperor laughed in amusement and ignored the breach of etiquette.
Today, as in the past, good inkstones are difficult to find. Once owned, they require proper care, a task that consumes very little time. There are rules to remember, however. After grinding the ink, for example, the inkstick should never be left on the surface of the stone. The resin used in the manufacture of inksticks is so strong that an inkstick left standing on a wet inkstone can adhere to the surface so firmly that its removal could actually damage the stone. For the same reason, after each use an inkstone should be thoroughly washed clean of any ground ink remaining on its surface. Failing to do so could create a resin layer on the surface of the stone which would interfere with its grinding ability. Should there be a build up of ink despite precautions, the inkstone can be soaked in water or ginger juice for several hours, and then scrubbed with a toothbrush. The surface of the inkstone of course should never come in contact with other abrasive or metal objects.
Inkstones almost always come with protective boxes, which can be made of wood, lacquerware, or any non-abrasive material. The more valuable the inkstone, the more elaborate its protective box will usually be. In the past, exotic woods such as ebony, purple sandlewood, and rosewood were frequently used for inkstone boxes. Calligraphic inscriptions or other designs could be carved on the surface of the box as well, providing aesthetic enjoyment while the stone inside awaited its next use.
The purchase of common inkstones is not a difficult undertaking. A walk through the crowded urban center of Taipei reveals a profusion of places offering inkstones for sale. Stationery stores, art supply houses, calligraphy shops, antique stores, even traveling street vendors, are some of the more common places inkstones can be purchased. Quality and price vary greatly, ranging anywhere from US$1 to those costing thousands of dollars. And variety is the order of the day: new, old, round, square-their age and sizes are matched with a" huge range of carved surfaces. Some are, carved with dragons, birds, flowers, or auspicious Chinese symbols, their sizes varying from as big as a fist to over a foot in diameter.
The value of an inkstone depends on the quality and scarcity of the stone, the maker, and its age. The cheapest ink stones can be purchased at any Taipei corner stationery store. This type is usually made from rock dust swept off the floor of stone quarries, mixed with a resin, and pressed in a mold. Inferior in their ability to grind ink, such inkstones are usually used by elementary school students, who are still studying the rudiments of calligraphy as part of their daily curriculum. More often than not, the students do not even grind ink on them, but pour pre-ground bottled calligraphy ink on the surface, then dip their brushes into the stone's inkwell.
On any sunny Sunday afternoon, Taipei residents out for a stroll with the family may find an elderly vendor selling inkstones and other calligraphic necessities in front of the entrance to Taipei's New Park. Looking like a scholar or calligrapher himself, with eyeglasses and a faded blue traditional-style cotton padded jacket, he sits on a small folding bamboo stool with his wares in front of him.
"Inkstones, brushes, inksticks..." His call mixes with the hum of the large crowd but is not muffled by it. A dozen or more inkstones of varying size, shape, and decoration are laid out neatly before him on a broad cloth. From time to time, interested passersby stop to examine an inkstone more closely. If someone decides to buy one, a price is agreed on, usually between about US$20-50, depending on the size and quality of the stone. Not everyone who buys an inkstone is a calligrapher or a collector; some people just like to keep an attractive looking inkstone on their desk as a reminder of their ancient and noble literary tradition.
For those who have the necessary financial resources, collecting antique inkstones is a rewarding, and expensive, hobby. Serious collectors may not know much about calligraphy, or need to for that matter, to spend thousands or tens of thousands of dollars on a valuable stone. Tuanchou, Hsichou, and Yaoho inkstones, now as in the past, are the most highly prized. If the inkstone bears a calligraphic inscription by a known scholar, the price of the inkstone will depend upon the fame of the scholar and how long ago he lived. The majority of old inkstones available for sale today are from the Ming and Ching periods, with earlier specimens being rare and capable of commanding astronomical prices.
Avid collectors can be found in Taiwan's northern neighbor, Japan. Japanese collectors frequently take tourist trips to Taiwan to scour the numerous antique shops for old inkstones. Not given to bargaining like their Chinese counterparts, the Japanese usually pay whatever price is asked for an antique that catches their interest. For this reason, many antique dealers like to reserve their more valuable inkstones for Japanese customers, which has generally driven up the market value of antique inkstones in Taiwan.
Today, for calligraphers as well as students, the use of the inkstone to grind ink is mostly a matter of choice rather than necessity. The "time is money" mentality has found its way even into the fine arts; such time savers as pre-ground calligraphy ink, and even machines to grind ink, are readily available. Even though a pre-ground ink equal in quality to that ground from a stick has yet to be developed, some people still opt for the convenience. In this case, the former noble function of the inkstone is relegated to nothing more than a surface to contain the ink between dips of the writing brush.
For the serious calligrapher, however, there is another dimension to the use of the inkstone. Grinding ink is a meditative exercise, giving the calligrapher an opportunity to quiet his mind before writing an essay or calligraphic work. Perhaps he will first light some incense, and sit contemplatively before his writing table, watching the small whiffs of smoke float up like little clouds from a bronze censor crafted in ancient style.
After picking up the black rectangular inkstick, he carefully pours a small amount of water from the waterpot onto the ink-stone. Holding the inkstick with the small end on the inkstone, he begins to move the inkstick with a slow, deliberate, circular motion across its surface. The calligrapher's mind becomes one with the steady trajectory of the inkstick over the stone. After several minutes the small pool of water has started to blacken, at the same time taking on a thicker appearance. Having ground the ink to the desired amount and consistency, the calligrapher then dips his brush into the ink, and pulls it to a point across the surface of the inkstone. With a look of calm determination in his eyes, he brings his brush to the paper. With these motions he has joined centuries of calligraphers who before putting brush to paper have begun in the same way.