The store still retained its magic for Marthe, as she walked carefully around the small pedestal tables where Ichiro rotated his various collections. He had two Zhou vases on display that were quite beautiful, and a large dish in a chrysanthemum pattern that she thought she might like for herself. But nothing called out to her as something that befitted Boldini.
Ichiro returned with a lacquered tray and two ceramic cups of steaming tea.
“Come sit... I have a few things downstairs that I will bring up and show you in a moment.”
He pulled out a chair by the small viewing table he kept for his customers, and Marthe sat down.
Ichiro joined her at the table and took the tea to his lips.
“This friend, he has his own collection like you?”
She smiled. “I am unsure how vast his collection is. But I know from our conversations he has a particular affinity for the translucent glazes.”
Ichiro nodded. “He must be quite a gentleman to be so learned about such matters.” He placed his palms on the table and stood up. “Now, let me bring you what I have in mind.”
Moments later he appeared with two bamboo boxes tied shut with twine.
“These two vases arrived only last week... They belonged to a Samurai family in Nara.”
He removed the lid from the first box.
“Although I acquired these from Japan, they were actually fired in an imperial kiln in Korea. They are very rare.”
She watched as he lifted the vase from the nest of dry grass that protected the porcelain, and held it to the light.
The glaze was a soft, milky blue.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as she cupped her hands around the base and lifted it slightly toward the light. She proceeded to turn it around from all sides, examining it from different angles.
“The next one is also quite unusual.” He bent down and retrieved the second box, placing it on the table.
Ichiro repeated his actions, again carefully removing the box’s lid, dipping his hands into the dry straw, and withdrawing the vase so Marthe could examine it more closely.
As soon as she saw it lifted to the light, she felt her adrenalinerush. The vase was gourd-shaped, its glaze an opaque celadon with a crazing of thin black lines floating over the surface.
“This is an especially rare piece. I almost don’t want to sell it...” Ichiro placed it carefully on the table. “It is from an imperial kiln, just like the last one I showed you, but the glaze is quite unique. We call it ‘cracked ice’ because the glaze lends itself to the appearance of shattered ice.”
She leaned over and looked at it closely. She had never seen anything like it before.
“It’s breathtaking...” Her finger reached out to touch its glimmering surface. “It looks like a spiderweb has been caught within the glaze.”
“Exactly.” A small smile crept over his lips. She could see he was delighted that she immediately responded to its delicate beauty. “It’s a very difficult process for the potter. He must apply several coats of the glaze and fire it several times in order to achieve the distinct crackle. Many pieces are lost during the process...”
“Extraordinary,” she whispered. “May I hold it?”
“Certainly.” He gently lifted the vase and placed it in her hands.
Again she brought the vase up to the light to examine the glaze more carefully. This one captured her heart and imagination. She loved the atmospheric green color. It reminded her of the color of the water in the Venetian canals, but with the effect that the surface was breaking even though it remained intact. She knew Boldini would be drawn to something that was both so delicate and complex. Marthe again closed her eyes, the surface of the hourglass vase warming in her hands.
Immediately she knew this was what she wanted to give to the artist.
“I think my friend will find this one particularly inspiring,” Marthe said as she placed the vase down on the table.
“It’s a bit more expensive than the first one I showed you,” he said softly. She knew he had always found the discussion of money distasteful.
He wrote down the price on a piece of paper.
She saw he had written five hundred francs. It was far more than she liked to pay even for something for herself.
