After nearly nine years of planning and construction, the Shanghai Museum’s new expansion in the city’s Pudong New Area finally opened its doors earlier this year. Billed as a “world-class museum of ancient Chinese art,” Shanghai Museum East features 20 galleries and interactive spaces designed to highlight the best pieces from its collection.

Although still one of China’s top institutions, the update feels like a much-needed reset for the Shanghai Museum, which has struggled to keep up with high-profile finds elsewhere in the country. When compared to other provincial museums displaying newly unearthed relics like burial goods from traditional cultural and political centers like Xi’an and Henan or the seemingly “alien” Sanxingdui figurines found in the southwestern province of Sichuan, the Shanghai Museum’s collection starts to look a bit staid.

Dimly lit, with spotlights on each individual artifact — always ensconced behind thick glass — Chinese exhibition halls in general tend to be lackluster affairs. The Shanghai Museum East’s ceramics gallery offers a glimpse of an alternative future. Bright and airy, the contrast from its predecessor is obvious. Even the display cases got an update: Made from low-reflection glass, they seem to float around the space.

Peng Tao, the gallery’s curator, says that his goal in designing the space was to create something both artistic and modern, fusing ancient artifacts with a more contemporary ambiance. Citing examples like I.M. Pei’s radical design for the Louvre Pyramid, he wanted the exhibition space to be an artwork in its own right.

Peng’s ambition is perhaps most evident in the design of a display case for ceramic pieces fired during the turbulent and bloody transition from the Ming (1368–1644) to the Qing (1644–1911) dynasties. “Before and after that period, our pieces are all from official kilns (sanctioned by a dynasty to produce ceramics), but these are from folk kilns,” Peng says. “You can see that even during those turbulent times, people’s pursuit of beauty did not wane. The production of ceramics continued to flourish, and they exhibited unique styles. Some reflect the aesthetics of literati, while others depict folksier stories.”

To highlight this unique period, Peng — drawing inspiration from the spiral display case at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London — designed a “double-helix” enclosure. Zhao Yizhou, the contractor tasked with realizing Peng’s vision, called it “arguably the most challenging professional display case ever made in China.”

But the construction was just the first step in realizing Peng’s vision. Next came the hard part: lighting.

Compared to other traditional Chinese artifacts such as lacquerware, paintings, or ivory carvings, ceramics are relatively forgiving in terms of humidity and temperature control. The primary challenge in their display lies in the lighting, which must illuminate and accurately reflect the true colors found in the glaze while minimizing glare.

According to Peng, the ideal color temperature for viewing ceramics is similar to the light at 10 a.m. on a sunny autumn or winter day. The task for the lighting experts, therefore, was to recreate this color temperature as closely as possible using artificial sources. Furthermore, ceramics from different periods have varying lighting needs: ceramics from before the Song dynasty (960–1279) require warmer color temperatures, while those from the Song dynasty onwards — which feature brighter, more delicate glazes — require cooler color temperatures.

One of the biggest challenges involved lighting the suspended glass display cases. After conducting numerous tests and experiments, the museum’s technical team ultimately decided to eliminate traditional surface lighting altogether. Instead, they used small-angle spotlights placed in the top of the cases. Finally, they added adjustable ultra-thin light panels at the bottom, allowing viewers to see the details at the base of the ceramics and eliminating shadows caused by the spotlights.

Even so, the fine details of many ceramics are hard to discern from a distance. Some can only be seen under strong light and up close. That left the team with a question: How to ensure visitors can fully appreciate the beauty of these patterns without reverting to traditional spotlights?

Peng found the answer in a traditional archaeological technique: artifact drawing. One of the three most commonly used methods of extracting information from archaeological artifacts — the other two being photography and textual description — artifact drawing reproduces the fine details of a given piece in a more digestible format.

Si Hongwei, one of the experts responsible for artifact drawing at the Shanghai Museum East and a faculty member at the Shanghai Urban Construction Vocational College, describes the technique as a process of deconstruction and reconstruction. Only after thoroughly understanding the artifact can an artist begin drawing; the deeper the understanding, the better the drawing.

When I asked whether the current AI craze had her worried, Si shrugged it off. She says that AI still cannot accurately separate the lines of artifacts. Even if computer technology becomes advanced enough one day, she believes that hand-drawn depictions will still be more prized.

“Remember, the patterns on those ceramics we see today were also hand-painted back then. I believe only humans can truly feel and recreate that beauty,” Si says. “Every time I observe these patterns, I can’t help but feel awe and admiration for the ancient craftsmen who poured all their wisdom into creating such beauty.”

It says something that some of the most eye-catching parts of the ceramics gallery aren’t the high-tech display cases, but simple drawings. Si’s work stands as a silent testament to the enduring value of traditional craftsmanship, even in the face of modern technology. As with the ceramics they are based on, true beauty has a way of transcending time.

(Header image: Visitors looks at pottery pieces at Shanghai Museum East’s ceramics gallery, June 2024. Wu Huiyuan/Sixth Tone)