Pastime pleasures
(China Daily)
Updated: 2008-10-27 07:52

Ma Weidu knew little about antiques when he was a child in the chaos of 1960s China. But he wondered why people hated beautiful old possessions so much, as he watched them smash china, tear and trample paintings and destroy old temples, homes and buildings.

The 53-year-old now has his own museum filled with antiques. He has been in the profession for almost three decades. Ma recently became a household figure after giving lectures on antiques and traditional culture on China Central Television.

"I watched how China's antique collection boomed. Now two places are most crowded in Beijing before sunrise everyday: Tian'anmen Square where tourists are craning their necks to watch the national-flag raising and Panjiayuan (a curio fair) where people are lowering their heads searching for treasures."

Ma believes three factors attest to the current passion for antique collecting: extra money in pocketbooks, governmental permission and a rising interest in books on antiques and curious.

When Ma began collecting antiques, they were cheap. "It was like picking up treasures littered on the ground."

Most people were throwing out old things to equip themselves with modern products such as a folding chair, a TV set, sofa or a bike in the late 1970s and early 1980s when China just opened its door to the outside world and began economic reforms.

"Everyone was in a hurry to upgrade their lives, but I was not. It's obvious that technology is moving forward and modern gadgets can only grow cheaper, but not the traditional artworks," says gray-haired Ma at his Guanfu Museum in suburban Beijing.

"I doubted everything when I was young. I'm not the kind of guy that if you tell me something I will buy it all. I have to prove it to myself. This skepticism sent me on the road to antique collecting."

Ma dropped out from school at 11 when the "cultural revolution (1966-1976)" began. He became an editor for a literature magazine after publishing a novel. He once joined with writers such as Wang Shuo and Liu Zhenyun in producing China's early TV comedies in the 1990s.

"When I was young, literature was my ultimate dream. But I ditched it when I found the circle corrupted - some writers could bribe judges for a prize."

He turned to antique collecting. "It's like when you drink quality wine, you can't go back to common wine; or when you smoke a quality cigar, you can't go back to common cigarettes."

"In antique collecting, there is a definite answer of whether an object is genuine or not."

Ma named his museum after a word from the Taoist classic "Tao Te Ching, Guanfu", which literally means "watch it again and again". "If you watch an object again and again, you are either in love with it or studying it." His 3,500 sqm museum mainly displays furniture and china, Ma's two favorites.

"A museum is a place for you to enjoy culture. China's museums have improved a lot. When I visited museums in the 1980s, they were badly equipped with broken lights and women were knitting sweaters at the door."

Ma plans to leave his collection to society when he dies.

"Antiques belong to society. We are just temporary keepers. When staring at antiques, I often felt it was not I who was staring at them, but they were staring at me. Most have been passed on by at least 10 generations or up to 50 generations. We are passengers before them."

He describes himself as a "passionate" and "diligent" man who "perseveres" in doing what he believes in. A friend describes him as a "man with the most common sense".

Wang Gang, an actor and anchorman for a TV show on antiques, called him "frank" in his determination to determine the authenticity of antiques.

Once when a collector took out a curio for Ma to judge at a show, Ma said the object was "interesting, it's younger than me". The collector took out another. Ma said "this one is younger than my son". When another collector presented a cup, he announced "there are only three such cups in the world. But you've got the fourth".

To make sure he gets authentic antiques, Ma reads through basic antique guides and books and takes every chance to study relics in museums, exhibitions or curio fairs.

He also spends several days a month to help appraise "treasures" brought by visitors. "It helps expose me to the pressure of market changes and to keep an eye on fake production technique changes. If you don't follow the market changes closely for one or two years, you are out."

Ma's advice for safeguarding against fakes is "don't believe in stories". He's heard too many stories: the keepers' ancestors were eunuchs, maids or chefs in the imperial palaces and got the treasures as a prize or through theft.

"There are basic admonishments such as don't be greedy. Traps are normal in this profession," he says

Ma's home is furnished with traditional hardwood furniture. "My son often cried when he bumped into them. But when he grew up, he could clearly remember a certain wooden chair that he had finished his homework on and had deep affection for it."

Though he gained virtually all his knowledge outside of school, he wishes he could have received "regular" education and enjoys observing and talking on topics such as literature, art, medicines and anthropology.

He's also deeply interested in Taoism. "I'm an atheist, but I study Taoism for its philosophy. Taoism doesn't have class differences. Many others have class divisions and discuss things in certain circumstances with time and space limits.

"Everything has a deeper cause under the superficial. It's just we don't understand it yet."

Curios were dubbed "adult toys" in the past, providing intellectual pleasure for collectors. "Today people put monetary value before intellectual enjoyment. There is too much knowledge covered under an antique," he says.

Ma says he built the museum not to revive ancient culture, but to remind younger generations that China once had such cultural prosperity.

Xinhua

(China Daily 10/27/2008 page6)
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