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Lot Essay
As Round and Bright as the Full Moon:
A Korean Moon Jar
“As round and bright as the full moon” perfectly characterizes Korean moon jars, with their large size, spherical shape, and luminous surfaces. Made in the eighteenth century, during the Joseon dynasty (1392–1910), by anonymous potters at the Bunwon 分院 kilns near Seoul, such vessels served as storage containers and occasionally as vases for monumental floral displays at banquets and ceremonies. Known in Korean as dal hangari 달항아리—literally “moon jars,” the origin of the English name—moon jars have, in modern times, become a symbol of Korean identity and an emblem of national pride, as only Koreans produced moon jars.[i]
Vessels of varied size and shape are often called “moon jars,” but only those jars of spherical form and substantial size actually qualify as moon jars. Although Joseon-dynasty globular jars range from 29 to nearly 50 cm in height, the Korean Cultural Heritage Service officially accepts as moon jars only those spherical, unornamented, white-glazed vessels that measure at least 40 cm in height.
Lacking decoration, moon jars rely on tautness of form and beauty of glaze for aesthetic appeal. Short, and of similar diameter, the mouths and footrings of such globular jars are comparatively small, with the result that the upper and lower halves of the vessel are virtually bilaterally symmetrical; while the footring is usually strictly vertical, the short lip is slightly everted in jars from the first half of the eighteenth century but straight and vertical in those from the second half of the century.
Constructed in two halves, upper and lower, moon jars are formed as two large, identically shaped, hemispherical bowls, each turned on the potter’s wheel in porcelain clays. Once dried to the proper state, the two halves are placed one atop the other, rim to rim, and luted, or joined, together using a slurry of porcelain clay mixed with a little water; the slurry binds the halves together in the raw, or unfired, state and promotes bonding during firing. At the proper stage of dryness, the footring is cut, the mouth opened, and the lip shaped. When bone dry, the fully shaped jar is bisque fired 素燒 between 700° and 1000° C. The bisque firing burns away any organic materials remaining in the clay, just as it removes any remaining moisture, thereby stabilizing the vessel shape and reducing the possibility of warping or slumping during firing; in short, the bisque firing transforms the soft, malleable clay into a hard, durable, porous ceramic body. Applied to the entire vessel, inside and out and including the base, the glaze slurry adheres well to the bisque-fired jar’s porous walls; moon jars thus are fully glazed, except for the bottom of the footring, which is wiped free of glaze slurry after application to prevent the jar from fusing to the kiln furniture during firing. Once completely dry, the jar is placed in the kiln for its high-temperature firing—above 1250° C and often between 1300° and 1400° C—during which the clay body is transformed from opaque, porous, bisque-fired clay to hard, impermeable, translucent, white porcelain, its glaze slurry transformed from opaque clay-slurry to a hard, transparent, lustrous coating of glass.
As a moon jar’s two hemispherical halves are very heavy and as the jar’s widest point is at its bulging center, the sheer weight of the clay often causes slight deformities to develop during firing: thus some jars might lean a bit to one side, for example, while others might show a slight protrusion or modest indentation—a dimple—around the midsection, where the two hemispherical halves were joined, and one face of yet others might sag a little and exhibit a marked distention, the result of gravity pulling the heavy clay downward during firing. Such deformities were not encouraged to form, but Koreans accepted them as part and parcel of such functional jars; although they cherish well-formed, well-fired moon jars in fine condition, many modern connoisseurs also prize those oft-seen imperfections—from warping and sagging to slumping and bulging—as they occurred naturally and without artifice, as they reveal the “will” of the kiln and of the clay, and as they impart a distinct personality to each jar so that no two jars are ever identical.
When newly fired, most eighteenth-century moon jars were white to off-white in color, the transparent glaze sometimes with a hint of sky blue, depending upon the kiln’s atmosphere. Even so, the jars often have tiny flecks of brown or black here and there, the small blemishes due to impurities in the clay, to bits of ash or soot that fell on the jar during firing, or to slight variations in the kiln atmosphere during firing. No matter how homogeneous the jar surfaces might have appeared when new, many eighteenth-century jars now show blushes of color in localized areas, the blushes ranging from pink to yellow, caramel, and dark brown. Although some moon jars perhaps originally held grain or other dry material, most likely contained liquids, from light-colored wine, oil, and vinegar to deep brown soy sauce. Should a glaze crack develop on the jar’s interior—not a crack through the porcelain body and extending to the exterior, but a simple fissure in the glaze on the interior—tiny amounts of the liquid stored in the jar could seep into the crack and spread under the glaze, discoloring the crack and yielding blushes in localized areas. The color of the liquid stored in the jar and the length of time it remained there thus determined the color and intensity of the blush. Apart from blushes of color in localized areas, most moon jars show signs of wear, sometimes even of hard use, and thus may bear scratches, chips, cracks, and divots. Just as they prize natural imperfections in a moon jar’s shape, today’s connoisseurs prize those blushes of color and signs of wear as they convey a sense of the jar’s history and the vicissitudes it has withstood over the centuries just as they impart a distinct personality, rendering each jar unique.
As the functional moon jars were not traditionally prized, let alone collected as works of fine art, very few moon jars are known today. In fact, it is believed that only approximately twenty of the large jars survive worldwide—i.e., those measuring 40.0 cm or more in height. Christie’s sold a superb moon jar from a Japanese private collection and measuring 45.1 cm in height in its New York auction rooms on 21 March 2023 (lot 177);[ii] now, Christie’s offers this splendid, large moon jar, also from a Japanese private collection.
There are at least seven large moon jars in Korea, four of which are designated National Treasures and one of which is a designated Treasure: One in a private collection (National Treasure no. 309),[iii] one in the National Palace Museum of Korea, Seoul (National Treasure no. 310), one in the Uhak Cultural Foundation, Yongin (National Treasure no. 262), one in the National Museum of Korea, Seou (museum no. Jeopsu 702, National Treasure no. 1437),[iv] one in the Amorepacific Museum of Art, Seoul (Treasure),[v] another in the National Museum of Korea (Sinsu 3658),[vi] and one that sold at Seoul Auction on 26 June 2019, lot 179.
The most famous large moon jar outside Korea is the one purchased in Seoul in 1935 by famed British potter Bernard Leach (1887–1979), who is considered the father of British studio pottery. Leach loved the jar, took inspiration from it, and often mentioned it in letters and other writings; on his death it passed to his friend Lucie Rie (1902–1995), the celebrated Austrian-British potter; after Rie’s death, the British Museum, London, acquired the jar, where it can be seen today (1999,0302.1).[vii] The excellent large moon jar now in the collection of the Museum of Oriental Ceramics, Osaka (01404), had been presented by writer Shiga Naoya 志賀直哉 (1883–1971) to Kamitsukasa Kaiun 上司海雲 (1906–1975), the head priest of the well-known Nara temple Tōdai-ji; after it was broken by a burglar in 1995 the jar was repaired and transferred to the Museum of Oriental Ceramics.[viii]
At least four large moon jars are in museum collections in the United States: one each in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (50.1040),[ix] the Harvard Art Museums, Cambridge, MA (1991.609),[x] the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco (B60P110+),[xi] and the Honolulu Museum of Art (7733.1).[xii] Medium-size moon jars—i.e., greater than 30 cm but less than 40 cm in height—appear in New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art (1979.413.1),[xiii] the Cleveland Museum of Art (1983.28),[xiv] the Art Institute of Chicago (2001.413),[xv] the Birmingham Museum of Art, Birmingham, AL (2002.4),[xvi] and the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco (F2011.12.4).[xvii]
Korean potters produced large, globular jars at least as early as the Three Kingdoms period (traditionally 57 BC–AD 668) as witnessed by the third-to-fifth-century, low-fired earthenware jars in the National Museum of Korea (Jeung 343),[xviii] Harvard Art Museums (1988.420),[xix] and Metropolitan Museum of Art (1981.401).[xx] Even so, creation of the now-iconic moon jars would have to await the coming of the Joseon dynasty and the rise to preeminence of porcelain.
Following the lead of the Chinese, who had mastered the art of producing porcelain in the Tang dynasty (618–907), Korean potters began to manufacture porcelain during the Goryeo dynasty (918–1392) as evinced by a Goryeo porcelain melon-shaped ewer-and-basin set in the Museum of Oriental Ceramics, Osaka (no. 00251)[xxi]; even so, such white wares were overshadowed at the time by the revered celadon wares 青瓷.
When the Joseon dynasty supplanted Goryeo in 1392, the new government took that of China’s Ming dynasty (1368–1644) as its model; as a result, the royal court pushed Buddhism aside and espoused Neo-Confucianism 宋明理學 as the state philosophy, just as it also left behind the previous dynasty’s taste for celadon wares and espoused porcelain as the ceramic ware most preferred for palace use, thus bringing porcelain to the fore and leading to the establishment of numerous porcelain kilns in Korea. As Korean potters had located deposits of the two clays necessary for producing porcelain—kaolin高嶺土 and petuntse 白墩子—and had mastered the techniques of porcelain manufacture by the early to mid-Goryeo period, early Joseon potters were well-prepared to meet the challenge of producing porcelain for the royal palaces, both monochrome white ware and blue-and-white ware.
This moon jar was made at the Bunwon kilns 分院窯, where the finest Korean porcelain was produced during the Joseon dynasty. As the deposits of Korea’s best porcelain clays are in Gwangju, Gyeonggi province 京畿道廣州市, just twenty miles (35 km) to the southeast of Seoul, the Joseon capital, the kilns that produced the finest Korean porcelains developed there. Among those kilns were those at Bunwon-ri 分院里, which had a long and distinguished history stretching back to the mid-1460s, when they were established to produce white wares for the royal court. The Bunwon kilns continued to function as the official court kilns until their privatization in the 1880s. Those kilns manufactured several different grades of porcelains, including those for the royal court as well as ones for various central-government offices and also for private patrons.
Although Joseon potters had produced Chinese-style porcelains with decoration painted in underglaze cobalt blue, copper red, and iron brown as early as the fifteenth century and would continue to produce such wares through the end of the dynasty, Korean taste generally preferred undecorated white wares rather than the more colorful Chinese-style porcelains. As witnessed by this moon jar, the taste was for the subtle, refined, and even austere rather than for the bold and brilliant, which, as Koreans of the Joseon dynasty believed, was in keeping with Neo-Confucian principles and reflected purity, integrity, honesty, and upright character. The nineteenth-century scholar Yi Gyu’gyeong 李圭景 (1788–1856) once remarked “The greatest merit of white porcelain lies in its absolute purity. Any effort to embellish it would only undermine its beauty.” Indeed, white porcelain was believed to perfectly symbolize the Confucian gentleman or junzi 君子; in like manner, Joseon gentlemen, differing markedly from their Chinese counterparts, often wore robes of white silk, as evinced by the early eighteenth-century Portrait of Seo Jiksu 徐直修 (1735–1811) by Kim Hong-do 金弘道 (1745–after 1806) and Yi Myeong’gi 李命基 in the collection of the National Museum of Korea, Seoul (Deoksu 5688, Treasure 1487).[xxii]
Because they were not prized as works of art, the functional moon jars were not collected in traditional times; indeed, Joseon porcelains in general found few admirers before the twentieth century, connoisseurs and collectors preferring Chinese porcelains instead. In fact, it was Yanagi Sōetsu 柳宗悦 (1889–1961), a Japanese art critic, philosopher, and founder of the Mingei 民芸 (Folk Craft) movement, who first took note of Joseon porcelains and first recognized the beauty and importance of Korean moon jars. Together with Kawai Kanjirō 河井寬次郎 (1890–1966), Hamada Shōji 濱田庄司 (1894–1978), and the previously mentioned Englishman Bernard Leach (1887–1979)—all friends, potters and fellow Mingei advocates—Yanagi Sōetsu promoted Joseon porcelains and brought international awareness to Korean moon jars.
In Korea, it was renowned painter Kim Whanki 金煥基 (1913–1974) who first recognized the beauty of Korean moon jars and began to collect them.[xxiii] Among Korea’s most celebrated modern painters, Kim would gain international renown in the late 1960s and early 1970s for his abstract paintings; in the 1940s and 1950s, however, he painted in a representational manner, his works expressing love for his native Korea and thus capturing Korean taste and poetic sentiment through depictions of the moon, mountains, clouds, storks, blossoming plum trees, and, of course, his beloved moon jars. His fellow painter To Sangbong 都相鳳 (1902–1977) followed suit and also painted distinctively Korean scenes, including moon jars, which he sometimes presented as flower vases and other times as works of art on pedestals.
Not only did they promote appreciation of moon jars but Kim Whanki and his circle coined the term dal hangari 달항아리—literally “moon jar”—the name by which such jars are now known in Korean. Before the mid-twentieth century, such jars were simply called keun hangari 큰 항아리, or “large jars,” and occasionally daeho 大壺, wonho 圓壺, or daegwan 大罐 using Chinese-style names for “large jar.”
Sandwiched between China and Japan, two powerful neighbors, each with a long history and a strong artistic and cultural tradition, Korea struggled to find a distinctive emblem to identify itself on the international stage in the mid-twentieth century, particularly after thirty-five years of Japanese colonial rule (1910–1945) and after the devastating Korean War (1950–1953). Despite numerous achievements over the millennia—from powerful Buddhist sculptures and refined paintings to exquisite celadons that even the Chinese admired—Koreans lamented the lack of international recognition and thus sought a uniquely Korean icon that would symbolize the nation, readily distinguishing it from both China and Japan. Thanks to the efforts of Yanagi Sōetsu and to the paintings and advocacy of Kim Whanki and his fellow painters, Korea gradually found that icon in the Joseon moon jar, which was made only in Korea and thus is uniquely Korean.
Once it gained recognition as a primary icon of Korean identity, the moon jar inspired potters to revive the form in porcelain and painters to include representations of such jars in their works (but in manners very different from those of Kim Whanki and his circle). Thus, many distinguished potters have taken up the challenge of recreating moon jars. Among the best-known of those potters are Park Young Sook 朴英淑 (b. 1947), Park Boo Won 樸富元 (b. 1938), Kwon Daesup 權大燮 (b. 1952), Lee Dongsik 李東式, and Kim Seyong 金世龍 (b. 1946), among others. In addition, artists like Choi Young Wook 崔永旭 (b. 1964) present hyperrealistic paintings of Joseon moon jars, while others, such as Kang Ikjoong 姜益中 (b. 1960), incorporate moon-jar imagery into their paintings. In one of Kang’s best-known works features a golden image of the Buddha placed before a nearly circular image of a white moon jar set against a gold background, the moon jar serving as a halo for the Buddha.
Through the efforts of Kim Whanki in the 1950s and of kindred artists in succeeding decades, the moon jar is known ’round the world and stands as an instantly recognizable icon of Korea. So well-known is the moon jar, so iconic its shape, and so beloved by Koreans that Kim Youngse 金暎世 (b. 1950) appropriated the moon jar’s shape for the cauldron he designed to hold the flame for the 2018 Winter Olympics held in Pyeongchang, Korea 江原道平昌郡; the Olympic-flame cauldron and its support of course were made of steel, concrete, and other materials, but the cauldron’s spherical form was that of a moon jar.
Even today’s young Koreans show a fascination with and love of moon jars, a phenomenon that surely would be unlikely in any other culture. In November 2019, for example, Kim Nam Joon 金南俊 (b. 1994)—better known as RM (for “Rap Monster”), the leader of the hugely successful K-Pop band BTS—posted a photo of himself seated on the floor and hugging a contemporary moon jar made by contemporary potter Kwon Daesup 權大燮 with a caption describing the calm he feels in the vessel’s presence.
The continuing fascination with the now-iconic moon jars mirrors the ongoing search for a definition of Korean national identity. At once historical and reflective of contemporary tastes, both local and global, and revered in both fine art and popular culture, the moon jar is one of the very few works of art that has crossed over multiple cultural boundaries to become a national icon.
Robert D. Mowry 毛瑞
Alan J. Dworsky Curator of Chinese Art Emeritus,
Harvard Art Museums, and
Senior Consultant, Christie’s
[i] For additional information on Korean moon jars, see: Charlotte Horlyck, “The Moon Jar: The Making of a Korean Icon,” The Art Bulletin, vol. 104⁄2, June 2022, pp. 118-141.
[ii] See: Christie’s, New York, ed., Japanese and Korean Art, 21 March 2023 (New York: Christie’s), 2023, lot 177; also see: https://www.christies.com.cn/en/lot/lot-6417575?ldp_breadcrumb=back
[iii] See: Leeum Museum, ed., Joseon White Porcelain: Paragon of Virtue (Seoul: Leeum Museum), 2023, cat. no. 35 / 리움 미술관 편집, 《조선 의 백자: 군자 지향》, (서울 특별시: 리움 미술관), 2023, no. 35.
[iv] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=941
[v] See: Leeum Museum, Joseon White Porcelain, 2023, cat. no. 36; also see: https://apmap.amorepacific.com/en/museum.asp
[vi] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=8586
[vii] See: See: Jane Portal, Korea: Art and Archaeology (London: British Museum Publications; and New York: Thames and Hudson), 2000, fig. 8; also see: Jane Portal, “A Korean Porcelain ‘Full-Moon’ Jar: Bernard Leach, Lucie Rie and the Collecting of Oriental Ceramics,” Apollo, November 1999, vol. CL, no. 453, pp. 36-37; also see: https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/A_1999-0302-1
[viii] See: https://apisites.jmapps.ne.jp/mocoor/en/collection/2037?keywords=Moon+Jar&kwd_and_or=and&list_type=LLC&list_count=10&title_query=yes&page=1&sort_field=&sort_type=asc
[ix] See: https://collections.mfa.org/objects/20477/moon-jar?ctx=fd2cecb7-8fec-4c96-ae80-04c5d7aa2f33&idx=0
[x] See: https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/201095?position=201095
[xi] See: https://searchcollection.asianart.org/objects/12689/moon-jar?ctx=c87afcf6f3431502188870daa75f60bde349afb6&idx=6
[xii] See: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Large_moon_jar,_18th_century,_Honolulu_Museum_of_Art_3494.1.JPG
[xiii] See: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/45432
[xiv] See: https://www.clevelandart.org/art/1983.28
[xv] See: https://www.artic.edu/artworks/158472/moon-jar
[xvi] See: https://www.artsbma.org/collection/moon-jar/
[xvii] See: https://searchcollection.asianart.org/objects/19130/globular-jar-moon-jar?ctx=2ce0db6ace673e2d6e6988e780ade98c31bdebdf&idx=0
[xviii] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=6209
[xix] See: https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/200717?position=200717
[xx] See: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/57522
[xxi] See: https://apisites.jmapps.ne.jp/mocoor/en/collection/1145?kwd_and_or=and&f50=1&list_type=LLC&title_query=yes&page=3&sort_type=asc&sort_field=&list_count=10
[xxii] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=1434
[xxiii] For information on Kim Whanki, see: Christine Y. Hahn, “Clay Bodies, Moon Jars, and Materiality: Reconciling Dualisms in the Paintings of Kim Whanki,” positions: asia critique, (Durham, NC: Duke University Press), vol. 24, issue 2, 1 May 2016, pp. 481–512; see: https://read.dukeupress.edu/positions/article-abstract/24⁄2/481⁄21790/Clay-Bodies-Moon-Jars-and-Materiality-Reconciling; also see: Hyang-an Kim, Kim Whanki: Life and Work (Paris: Maeght), 1992; Oh Kwang-su, Kim Whanki: A Critical Biography (Seoul: Youl Hwa Dang Publisher), 1998.
A Korean Moon Jar
“As round and bright as the full moon” perfectly characterizes Korean moon jars, with their large size, spherical shape, and luminous surfaces. Made in the eighteenth century, during the Joseon dynasty (1392–1910), by anonymous potters at the Bunwon 分院 kilns near Seoul, such vessels served as storage containers and occasionally as vases for monumental floral displays at banquets and ceremonies. Known in Korean as dal hangari 달항아리—literally “moon jars,” the origin of the English name—moon jars have, in modern times, become a symbol of Korean identity and an emblem of national pride, as only Koreans produced moon jars.[i]
Vessels of varied size and shape are often called “moon jars,” but only those jars of spherical form and substantial size actually qualify as moon jars. Although Joseon-dynasty globular jars range from 29 to nearly 50 cm in height, the Korean Cultural Heritage Service officially accepts as moon jars only those spherical, unornamented, white-glazed vessels that measure at least 40 cm in height.
Lacking decoration, moon jars rely on tautness of form and beauty of glaze for aesthetic appeal. Short, and of similar diameter, the mouths and footrings of such globular jars are comparatively small, with the result that the upper and lower halves of the vessel are virtually bilaterally symmetrical; while the footring is usually strictly vertical, the short lip is slightly everted in jars from the first half of the eighteenth century but straight and vertical in those from the second half of the century.
Constructed in two halves, upper and lower, moon jars are formed as two large, identically shaped, hemispherical bowls, each turned on the potter’s wheel in porcelain clays. Once dried to the proper state, the two halves are placed one atop the other, rim to rim, and luted, or joined, together using a slurry of porcelain clay mixed with a little water; the slurry binds the halves together in the raw, or unfired, state and promotes bonding during firing. At the proper stage of dryness, the footring is cut, the mouth opened, and the lip shaped. When bone dry, the fully shaped jar is bisque fired 素燒 between 700° and 1000° C. The bisque firing burns away any organic materials remaining in the clay, just as it removes any remaining moisture, thereby stabilizing the vessel shape and reducing the possibility of warping or slumping during firing; in short, the bisque firing transforms the soft, malleable clay into a hard, durable, porous ceramic body. Applied to the entire vessel, inside and out and including the base, the glaze slurry adheres well to the bisque-fired jar’s porous walls; moon jars thus are fully glazed, except for the bottom of the footring, which is wiped free of glaze slurry after application to prevent the jar from fusing to the kiln furniture during firing. Once completely dry, the jar is placed in the kiln for its high-temperature firing—above 1250° C and often between 1300° and 1400° C—during which the clay body is transformed from opaque, porous, bisque-fired clay to hard, impermeable, translucent, white porcelain, its glaze slurry transformed from opaque clay-slurry to a hard, transparent, lustrous coating of glass.
As a moon jar’s two hemispherical halves are very heavy and as the jar’s widest point is at its bulging center, the sheer weight of the clay often causes slight deformities to develop during firing: thus some jars might lean a bit to one side, for example, while others might show a slight protrusion or modest indentation—a dimple—around the midsection, where the two hemispherical halves were joined, and one face of yet others might sag a little and exhibit a marked distention, the result of gravity pulling the heavy clay downward during firing. Such deformities were not encouraged to form, but Koreans accepted them as part and parcel of such functional jars; although they cherish well-formed, well-fired moon jars in fine condition, many modern connoisseurs also prize those oft-seen imperfections—from warping and sagging to slumping and bulging—as they occurred naturally and without artifice, as they reveal the “will” of the kiln and of the clay, and as they impart a distinct personality to each jar so that no two jars are ever identical.
When newly fired, most eighteenth-century moon jars were white to off-white in color, the transparent glaze sometimes with a hint of sky blue, depending upon the kiln’s atmosphere. Even so, the jars often have tiny flecks of brown or black here and there, the small blemishes due to impurities in the clay, to bits of ash or soot that fell on the jar during firing, or to slight variations in the kiln atmosphere during firing. No matter how homogeneous the jar surfaces might have appeared when new, many eighteenth-century jars now show blushes of color in localized areas, the blushes ranging from pink to yellow, caramel, and dark brown. Although some moon jars perhaps originally held grain or other dry material, most likely contained liquids, from light-colored wine, oil, and vinegar to deep brown soy sauce. Should a glaze crack develop on the jar’s interior—not a crack through the porcelain body and extending to the exterior, but a simple fissure in the glaze on the interior—tiny amounts of the liquid stored in the jar could seep into the crack and spread under the glaze, discoloring the crack and yielding blushes in localized areas. The color of the liquid stored in the jar and the length of time it remained there thus determined the color and intensity of the blush. Apart from blushes of color in localized areas, most moon jars show signs of wear, sometimes even of hard use, and thus may bear scratches, chips, cracks, and divots. Just as they prize natural imperfections in a moon jar’s shape, today’s connoisseurs prize those blushes of color and signs of wear as they convey a sense of the jar’s history and the vicissitudes it has withstood over the centuries just as they impart a distinct personality, rendering each jar unique.
As the functional moon jars were not traditionally prized, let alone collected as works of fine art, very few moon jars are known today. In fact, it is believed that only approximately twenty of the large jars survive worldwide—i.e., those measuring 40.0 cm or more in height. Christie’s sold a superb moon jar from a Japanese private collection and measuring 45.1 cm in height in its New York auction rooms on 21 March 2023 (lot 177);[ii] now, Christie’s offers this splendid, large moon jar, also from a Japanese private collection.
There are at least seven large moon jars in Korea, four of which are designated National Treasures and one of which is a designated Treasure: One in a private collection (National Treasure no. 309),[iii] one in the National Palace Museum of Korea, Seoul (National Treasure no. 310), one in the Uhak Cultural Foundation, Yongin (National Treasure no. 262), one in the National Museum of Korea, Seou (museum no. Jeopsu 702, National Treasure no. 1437),[iv] one in the Amorepacific Museum of Art, Seoul (Treasure),[v] another in the National Museum of Korea (Sinsu 3658),[vi] and one that sold at Seoul Auction on 26 June 2019, lot 179.
The most famous large moon jar outside Korea is the one purchased in Seoul in 1935 by famed British potter Bernard Leach (1887–1979), who is considered the father of British studio pottery. Leach loved the jar, took inspiration from it, and often mentioned it in letters and other writings; on his death it passed to his friend Lucie Rie (1902–1995), the celebrated Austrian-British potter; after Rie’s death, the British Museum, London, acquired the jar, where it can be seen today (1999,0302.1).[vii] The excellent large moon jar now in the collection of the Museum of Oriental Ceramics, Osaka (01404), had been presented by writer Shiga Naoya 志賀直哉 (1883–1971) to Kamitsukasa Kaiun 上司海雲 (1906–1975), the head priest of the well-known Nara temple Tōdai-ji; after it was broken by a burglar in 1995 the jar was repaired and transferred to the Museum of Oriental Ceramics.[viii]
At least four large moon jars are in museum collections in the United States: one each in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (50.1040),[ix] the Harvard Art Museums, Cambridge, MA (1991.609),[x] the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco (B60P110+),[xi] and the Honolulu Museum of Art (7733.1).[xii] Medium-size moon jars—i.e., greater than 30 cm but less than 40 cm in height—appear in New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art (1979.413.1),[xiii] the Cleveland Museum of Art (1983.28),[xiv] the Art Institute of Chicago (2001.413),[xv] the Birmingham Museum of Art, Birmingham, AL (2002.4),[xvi] and the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco (F2011.12.4).[xvii]
Korean potters produced large, globular jars at least as early as the Three Kingdoms period (traditionally 57 BC–AD 668) as witnessed by the third-to-fifth-century, low-fired earthenware jars in the National Museum of Korea (Jeung 343),[xviii] Harvard Art Museums (1988.420),[xix] and Metropolitan Museum of Art (1981.401).[xx] Even so, creation of the now-iconic moon jars would have to await the coming of the Joseon dynasty and the rise to preeminence of porcelain.
Following the lead of the Chinese, who had mastered the art of producing porcelain in the Tang dynasty (618–907), Korean potters began to manufacture porcelain during the Goryeo dynasty (918–1392) as evinced by a Goryeo porcelain melon-shaped ewer-and-basin set in the Museum of Oriental Ceramics, Osaka (no. 00251)[xxi]; even so, such white wares were overshadowed at the time by the revered celadon wares 青瓷.
When the Joseon dynasty supplanted Goryeo in 1392, the new government took that of China’s Ming dynasty (1368–1644) as its model; as a result, the royal court pushed Buddhism aside and espoused Neo-Confucianism 宋明理學 as the state philosophy, just as it also left behind the previous dynasty’s taste for celadon wares and espoused porcelain as the ceramic ware most preferred for palace use, thus bringing porcelain to the fore and leading to the establishment of numerous porcelain kilns in Korea. As Korean potters had located deposits of the two clays necessary for producing porcelain—kaolin高嶺土 and petuntse 白墩子—and had mastered the techniques of porcelain manufacture by the early to mid-Goryeo period, early Joseon potters were well-prepared to meet the challenge of producing porcelain for the royal palaces, both monochrome white ware and blue-and-white ware.
This moon jar was made at the Bunwon kilns 分院窯, where the finest Korean porcelain was produced during the Joseon dynasty. As the deposits of Korea’s best porcelain clays are in Gwangju, Gyeonggi province 京畿道廣州市, just twenty miles (35 km) to the southeast of Seoul, the Joseon capital, the kilns that produced the finest Korean porcelains developed there. Among those kilns were those at Bunwon-ri 分院里, which had a long and distinguished history stretching back to the mid-1460s, when they were established to produce white wares for the royal court. The Bunwon kilns continued to function as the official court kilns until their privatization in the 1880s. Those kilns manufactured several different grades of porcelains, including those for the royal court as well as ones for various central-government offices and also for private patrons.
Although Joseon potters had produced Chinese-style porcelains with decoration painted in underglaze cobalt blue, copper red, and iron brown as early as the fifteenth century and would continue to produce such wares through the end of the dynasty, Korean taste generally preferred undecorated white wares rather than the more colorful Chinese-style porcelains. As witnessed by this moon jar, the taste was for the subtle, refined, and even austere rather than for the bold and brilliant, which, as Koreans of the Joseon dynasty believed, was in keeping with Neo-Confucian principles and reflected purity, integrity, honesty, and upright character. The nineteenth-century scholar Yi Gyu’gyeong 李圭景 (1788–1856) once remarked “The greatest merit of white porcelain lies in its absolute purity. Any effort to embellish it would only undermine its beauty.” Indeed, white porcelain was believed to perfectly symbolize the Confucian gentleman or junzi 君子; in like manner, Joseon gentlemen, differing markedly from their Chinese counterparts, often wore robes of white silk, as evinced by the early eighteenth-century Portrait of Seo Jiksu 徐直修 (1735–1811) by Kim Hong-do 金弘道 (1745–after 1806) and Yi Myeong’gi 李命基 in the collection of the National Museum of Korea, Seoul (Deoksu 5688, Treasure 1487).[xxii]
Because they were not prized as works of art, the functional moon jars were not collected in traditional times; indeed, Joseon porcelains in general found few admirers before the twentieth century, connoisseurs and collectors preferring Chinese porcelains instead. In fact, it was Yanagi Sōetsu 柳宗悦 (1889–1961), a Japanese art critic, philosopher, and founder of the Mingei 民芸 (Folk Craft) movement, who first took note of Joseon porcelains and first recognized the beauty and importance of Korean moon jars. Together with Kawai Kanjirō 河井寬次郎 (1890–1966), Hamada Shōji 濱田庄司 (1894–1978), and the previously mentioned Englishman Bernard Leach (1887–1979)—all friends, potters and fellow Mingei advocates—Yanagi Sōetsu promoted Joseon porcelains and brought international awareness to Korean moon jars.
In Korea, it was renowned painter Kim Whanki 金煥基 (1913–1974) who first recognized the beauty of Korean moon jars and began to collect them.[xxiii] Among Korea’s most celebrated modern painters, Kim would gain international renown in the late 1960s and early 1970s for his abstract paintings; in the 1940s and 1950s, however, he painted in a representational manner, his works expressing love for his native Korea and thus capturing Korean taste and poetic sentiment through depictions of the moon, mountains, clouds, storks, blossoming plum trees, and, of course, his beloved moon jars. His fellow painter To Sangbong 都相鳳 (1902–1977) followed suit and also painted distinctively Korean scenes, including moon jars, which he sometimes presented as flower vases and other times as works of art on pedestals.
Not only did they promote appreciation of moon jars but Kim Whanki and his circle coined the term dal hangari 달항아리—literally “moon jar”—the name by which such jars are now known in Korean. Before the mid-twentieth century, such jars were simply called keun hangari 큰 항아리, or “large jars,” and occasionally daeho 大壺, wonho 圓壺, or daegwan 大罐 using Chinese-style names for “large jar.”
Sandwiched between China and Japan, two powerful neighbors, each with a long history and a strong artistic and cultural tradition, Korea struggled to find a distinctive emblem to identify itself on the international stage in the mid-twentieth century, particularly after thirty-five years of Japanese colonial rule (1910–1945) and after the devastating Korean War (1950–1953). Despite numerous achievements over the millennia—from powerful Buddhist sculptures and refined paintings to exquisite celadons that even the Chinese admired—Koreans lamented the lack of international recognition and thus sought a uniquely Korean icon that would symbolize the nation, readily distinguishing it from both China and Japan. Thanks to the efforts of Yanagi Sōetsu and to the paintings and advocacy of Kim Whanki and his fellow painters, Korea gradually found that icon in the Joseon moon jar, which was made only in Korea and thus is uniquely Korean.
Once it gained recognition as a primary icon of Korean identity, the moon jar inspired potters to revive the form in porcelain and painters to include representations of such jars in their works (but in manners very different from those of Kim Whanki and his circle). Thus, many distinguished potters have taken up the challenge of recreating moon jars. Among the best-known of those potters are Park Young Sook 朴英淑 (b. 1947), Park Boo Won 樸富元 (b. 1938), Kwon Daesup 權大燮 (b. 1952), Lee Dongsik 李東式, and Kim Seyong 金世龍 (b. 1946), among others. In addition, artists like Choi Young Wook 崔永旭 (b. 1964) present hyperrealistic paintings of Joseon moon jars, while others, such as Kang Ikjoong 姜益中 (b. 1960), incorporate moon-jar imagery into their paintings. In one of Kang’s best-known works features a golden image of the Buddha placed before a nearly circular image of a white moon jar set against a gold background, the moon jar serving as a halo for the Buddha.
Through the efforts of Kim Whanki in the 1950s and of kindred artists in succeeding decades, the moon jar is known ’round the world and stands as an instantly recognizable icon of Korea. So well-known is the moon jar, so iconic its shape, and so beloved by Koreans that Kim Youngse 金暎世 (b. 1950) appropriated the moon jar’s shape for the cauldron he designed to hold the flame for the 2018 Winter Olympics held in Pyeongchang, Korea 江原道平昌郡; the Olympic-flame cauldron and its support of course were made of steel, concrete, and other materials, but the cauldron’s spherical form was that of a moon jar.
Even today’s young Koreans show a fascination with and love of moon jars, a phenomenon that surely would be unlikely in any other culture. In November 2019, for example, Kim Nam Joon 金南俊 (b. 1994)—better known as RM (for “Rap Monster”), the leader of the hugely successful K-Pop band BTS—posted a photo of himself seated on the floor and hugging a contemporary moon jar made by contemporary potter Kwon Daesup 權大燮 with a caption describing the calm he feels in the vessel’s presence.
The continuing fascination with the now-iconic moon jars mirrors the ongoing search for a definition of Korean national identity. At once historical and reflective of contemporary tastes, both local and global, and revered in both fine art and popular culture, the moon jar is one of the very few works of art that has crossed over multiple cultural boundaries to become a national icon.
Robert D. Mowry 毛瑞
Alan J. Dworsky Curator of Chinese Art Emeritus,
Harvard Art Museums, and
Senior Consultant, Christie’s
[i] For additional information on Korean moon jars, see: Charlotte Horlyck, “The Moon Jar: The Making of a Korean Icon,” The Art Bulletin, vol. 104⁄2, June 2022, pp. 118-141.
[ii] See: Christie’s, New York, ed., Japanese and Korean Art, 21 March 2023 (New York: Christie’s), 2023, lot 177; also see: https://www.christies.com.cn/en/lot/lot-6417575?ldp_breadcrumb=back
[iii] See: Leeum Museum, ed., Joseon White Porcelain: Paragon of Virtue (Seoul: Leeum Museum), 2023, cat. no. 35 / 리움 미술관 편집, 《조선 의 백자: 군자 지향》, (서울 특별시: 리움 미술관), 2023, no. 35.
[iv] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=941
[v] See: Leeum Museum, Joseon White Porcelain, 2023, cat. no. 36; also see: https://apmap.amorepacific.com/en/museum.asp
[vi] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=8586
[vii] See: See: Jane Portal, Korea: Art and Archaeology (London: British Museum Publications; and New York: Thames and Hudson), 2000, fig. 8; also see: Jane Portal, “A Korean Porcelain ‘Full-Moon’ Jar: Bernard Leach, Lucie Rie and the Collecting of Oriental Ceramics,” Apollo, November 1999, vol. CL, no. 453, pp. 36-37; also see: https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/A_1999-0302-1
[viii] See: https://apisites.jmapps.ne.jp/mocoor/en/collection/2037?keywords=Moon+Jar&kwd_and_or=and&list_type=LLC&list_count=10&title_query=yes&page=1&sort_field=&sort_type=asc
[ix] See: https://collections.mfa.org/objects/20477/moon-jar?ctx=fd2cecb7-8fec-4c96-ae80-04c5d7aa2f33&idx=0
[x] See: https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/201095?position=201095
[xi] See: https://searchcollection.asianart.org/objects/12689/moon-jar?ctx=c87afcf6f3431502188870daa75f60bde349afb6&idx=6
[xii] See: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Large_moon_jar,_18th_century,_Honolulu_Museum_of_Art_3494.1.JPG
[xiii] See: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/45432
[xiv] See: https://www.clevelandart.org/art/1983.28
[xv] See: https://www.artic.edu/artworks/158472/moon-jar
[xvi] See: https://www.artsbma.org/collection/moon-jar/
[xvii] See: https://searchcollection.asianart.org/objects/19130/globular-jar-moon-jar?ctx=2ce0db6ace673e2d6e6988e780ade98c31bdebdf&idx=0
[xviii] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=6209
[xix] See: https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/200717?position=200717
[xx] See: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/57522
[xxi] See: https://apisites.jmapps.ne.jp/mocoor/en/collection/1145?kwd_and_or=and&f50=1&list_type=LLC&title_query=yes&page=3&sort_type=asc&sort_field=&list_count=10
[xxii] See: https://www.museum.go.kr/site/eng/relic/search/view?relicId=1434
[xxiii] For information on Kim Whanki, see: Christine Y. Hahn, “Clay Bodies, Moon Jars, and Materiality: Reconciling Dualisms in the Paintings of Kim Whanki,” positions: asia critique, (Durham, NC: Duke University Press), vol. 24, issue 2, 1 May 2016, pp. 481–512; see: https://read.dukeupress.edu/positions/article-abstract/24⁄2/481⁄21790/Clay-Bodies-Moon-Jars-and-Materiality-Reconciling; also see: Hyang-an Kim, Kim Whanki: Life and Work (Paris: Maeght), 1992; Oh Kwang-su, Kim Whanki: A Critical Biography (Seoul: Youl Hwa Dang Publisher), 1998.