From Dingshu, where the clay runs dark
Dīngshǔ (丁蜀) township sits in the heart of Yixing, a place shaped by generations of zisha artisans. On a sourcing trip in early 2025, Michael Zhan spent a full day at a small family workshop on the outskirts, watching a master press coil after coil of qingshuini clay — the same blend used for fine teapots — into a reclining ox. No moulds, no shortcuts: the ox’s folded legs and curved horns were built entirely by hand, then dried for a week before entering the dragon kiln for a single, steady firing. The dark charcoal finish, lightly speckled with iron, emerges from the clay’s natural minerals and the kiln’s atmosphere.
The ox motif runs deep in tea-farming communities. In Fujian and Yunnan, it’s a symbol of patience, endurance, and hard work — qualities shared by the tea makers themselves. A reclining ox, in particular, suggests a rare moment of rest after a long day; placed on a tea tray, it invites the drinker to pause, too. This small figure is meant to be fed warm tea during gongfu sessions, its surface slowly building a personal patina. No two oxen will age the same way.
Michael selected this lot for its balance of weight and detail — enough heft to stay put on a wet tray, enough sculpture to feel alive under the pour. It ships in a cloth pouch, with a note on the workshop and the firing date.