Thow Kwang Pottery Jungle

Childhood memories of Thow Kwang My father bought this place over in the 1965. Back then, this place was very simple and crude (简陋). All the roads here were mud dirt roads, not the tar-covered roads as they are now. It was very dirty. The houses were covered with attap roofs. It was very much a kampong. In terms of public facilities, there weren’t faucets in every household — we had to haul water up from wells manually. As for electricity, there was a private generator supplier so we only had electricity at night but not in the day; this was how things were different in the 1960s to 1970s. It was a rural village here: we were dependent on cultivating agriculture and rearing farm animals such as pigs and poultry. This area also had about ten or so dragon kilns (龙窑). Many people here were involved in making pottery and ceramics (陶瓷) for a living. In Pulau Tekong and Serangoon, most of these pottery farms and dragon kilns were run by Teochew families who were immigrants from Chaozhou and Fujian. It was not just the manufacturing of pottery and ceramics, but the import and sales that took place in places such as Beach Road and Chinatown were also largely run by Teochew families. There were five children in my family—three boys, two girls. My brothers and sisters would squeeze into one room. We lived where we worked. We didn’t have electricity; we didn’t have phones—we had oil lamps. In 1965, we were all kids, maybe 10+ years old. Aside from going to school, we helped out with odds and ends at home. We’d have to wrap products, stoke fires or help with the production. We found all of these very tedious! We lived in a kampong. I have so many memories tied to this place. We didn’t have many toys so we’d just play with soil and made it into different shapes, such as goli (marbles). We had many techniques to play with them. When we fired the dragon kiln, before it got too hot, we’d pluck potatoes and cassava and then roast them in the kiln—it was our own personal barbeque! These were some of our childhood memories. We also had a great deal of ‘white wash’. Here, it was all dirt roads—so our white school shoes would get hopelessly muddy and dirty. So when we’d get home, we’d have to wash our shoes, and then smear the ‘white wash’ on our shoes to keep them white and shining. Working the dragon kiln To fire the dragon kiln, you have to understand its character. You can only learn through experience—like what happens when you place a piece in a particular place, the temperature, how long you should leave it there for… how to produce different kinds of results. Sometimes we can leave the kiln firing for three days and three nights, or even a whole week. Using different types of wood produces distinctive results. It’s all about your experience with the dragon kiln and sense of familiarity on how it works. A lot of it is trial and error. In 1998, once we stopped using the dragon kiln to manufacture our own pieces, and we opened its usage to local artists for them to experiment, research, explore and play with. We’ve had this dragon kiln for about 50 years. It was forged through the hard work of our ancestors and kept alive by its subsequent generations. Our lifeblood runs through this place… I hope that the younger generation will take over, so that we don’t waste our efforts, our history. It takes time and experience to make what we have today. In Singapore, the history of the dragon kiln is short. We are a young country. In China, the dragon kiln has 3000 years of history. In Taiwan and Japan, they conduct extensive research into how to preserve and use the dragon kiln so compared to them, we have fallen behind when it comes to our own knowledge and understanding. They have room and support from others to refine their craftwork through the dragon kiln. For us, we just have to hope that the dragon kiln will be around for the next generation, that they will have the chance to ‘encounter the history of the dragon kiln’, to see what it can produce and to know how complex the process is. Singaporean society has changed. Before 2000, many of the pottery-making farms and factories started to vacate. The younger generation was also unwilling to take over. Because of this, many farms were forced out of business. At Thow Kwang we were luckier because my sibilings and I felt that this was our father’s hard-earned business and as heirs, we had to take it through to the end. In 1980, my father Mr Tan Kin She fell ill, and as the heir, my family and I took on the responsibility of preserving this pottery farm. Then, in terms of importing supplies, production and managing the workers — I encountered many challenges in the beginning and had to deal with them one by one. In terms of business and managing the competition, I had to handle many problems. We wanted to try our best and request that the government support us in preserving this rapidly disappearing type of work. Changing consumer demands and lifestyles When we started in 1965, we mostly specialized in producing latex cups. In Malaysia and Singapore, there were many rubber plantations for workers to collect the sap to make rubber so there was a high demand for these cups. All the ten or so pottery farms which were here specialized in making these latex cups. In 1975, we made a lot of ceramic pots to store orchid flowers which were grown here for eventual export, especially in Lim Chu Kang and Choa Chu Kang. We would make flower pots according to the size specifications and needs of these flower plantations. In 1985, these flower plantations dwindled; many moved to other countries such as Indonesia and Malaysia. The demand died, so we began to manufacture items that were ornamental and decorative — beautiful flower pots that were held flowers and meant for display indoors. Back then, most of the people who had lived in kampong were moving to HDB flats, which were getting increasingly populated, and they wanted to get flower pots so they could bring their plants with them for their new modern lives. After the 1980s, there was a demand from temples. Because the government had begun exhuming graves to make room for roads and buildings, there was an increasing demand for urns to hold the remains of people’s bodies — urns that would eventually be stored in temples. So we made many urns. We also produced ornamental items for hotels; for decorative purposes, or for gifts… and we slowly moved towards making decorative items. This was what happened in the 1980s and 1990s. After the 1990s, China began to open its borders to external businesses. We returned to our home village, our ancestral village in Chaozhou, Fengqi (潮州) which my father had come from. The entire village participated in pottery and ceramics making. We returned to China, and from then, we started to engage in an import/export business, bringing in pottery and ceramics from the village and distributing them in Singapore. We did this until year 2000. Aside from going back home and exporting ceramics from there, we also went to different places in China to import unique types of ceramics from various villages. We also looked closer to home, in countries like Indonesia, Thailand, and Myanmar; each nation has its own unique type of ceramics and pottery, and we import them, too. Preservation of Thow Kwang We were affected by the development of CleanTech Park [an eco-business next door]. Our land was originally slated for redevelopment by our neighbour but we felt that Thow Kwang is doing something very important. That it’s a place with history and culture; that it has heritage and educational value. So in 2008, we started to collaborate with schools to give educational tours, excursions, and classes. We’ve been quite focused on this goal since the 2000s. We are also trying our best to make this place more sophisticated, refined and relevant; by creating networks with associations such as the Kranji Countryside Association, as well as local community groups and companies. While developing our educational tours, we stopped manufacturing on a big scale in Singapore. Instead, we returned to our ancestral roots in China and created our works there, in collaboration with Chinese artists. Many visiting artists would come here to work and explore the usage of our dragon kiln. Our dragon kiln is unique—it is wood-fired, situated on a slope—and depending on the temperature, each piece placed within the kiln will develop distinctive markings and designs. Every result is different. You can make designs you never even thought of. Many visiting artists from all over the world love coming here to use our dragon kiln—it’s different from using other pottery-firing techniques, which creates a more straightforward and expected result. Our team of clay artists works together to come up with classes to suit all skill levels to cater to all kinds of people keen to come here and learn how to make pottery. Aside from the school classes, the public will come to us for lessons on Saturdays and Sundays. Thus our focus is now on raising awareness, education and heritage preservation. Our customers and visitors are all sorts. We have tourists that come here. Many expatriates also visit. Walk-in customers are many—they will drive here or take a taxi. As for the public, it will take time to raise awareness about this place. People from many community centres will visit… school groups too. Families also drop by over the weekend. Mrs Yulianti Tan, wife and Thow Kwang co-owner I met my wife in school. We were classmates. What we studied had nothing to do with pottery and ceramics. There is a saying in Chinese: ‘If you marry a chicken, you follow the chicken; if you marry a dog, you follow the dog’. After she married me, she became ensconced in our lifestyle. She weathered the storms with us. She was with me with my father passed away, when I took over, when I began running the business… she supported and helped me. She was instrumental in helping us with the paperwork. It was very natural that she became so experienced and interested with the business and the art of pottery. Her interest and affection for pottery have only grown over the years. I believe that it is the same with Stella (my 23-year-old niece, the youngest face working at Thow Kwang) who came back July 2013 to help out with the business. She believes in building up local branding for Thow Kwang by making functional wares and decorative wares. She also wanted to get out of her comfort zone to meet people at night markets and farmers markets, and build connections with young people to create awareness of the dying art. We had just gotten our lease extended for nine years. She learned the process. We always hope our children will be interested but we also don’t want Thow Kwang to become a burden to them, especially if it does not receive support from other sources or if this land will be reclaimed by the government. These are common issues that we have — it’s a process we go through. We will always try our best to preserve this place. We will do everything if we can. I hope that our efforts will be recognized by the government, and I hope that they can see what value it has for future generations…