Asian art in London: Japanese inro, Indian sculpture, Chinese celadon wares and more

On 6 November 2026, for the first time in six years, Christie’s in London is hosting a Fine Asian Art sale. The return of the live auction follows the success of The Flacks Family Collection II: Curtain Call in May, which comprised 49 lots from the collection of Marcus and Deborah Flacks, veteran dealers of Chinese art and furniture. It raised more than £4 million.

The upcoming sale coincides with Asian Art in London (which runs until 10 November) and is made up of 179 curated lots spanning 2,500 years of Chinese, Japanese, Indian and Southeast Asian art and objects.

A pair of bronze basins, China, early 5th century B.C.

China’s Spring and Autumn period — roughly 770-481 B.C. — is named after a chronicle by the philosopher Confucius, who died around 479 B.C. During this period, metallurgy reached new heights of technical sophistication. Elaborately cast bronze vessels served as ritual objects, with their forms and motifs revealing the concerns of the societies that used them.

These large bronze basins, each measuring about 28 inches across, are known as jian. Simultaneously ceremonial and functional, they were used to regulate temperature: in summer, they could be filled with ice to keep food and wine cool, while hot water would be used to warm the contents in winter. They were also used as washing basins, with the water’s surface providing a mirror for the bather.

Given the considerable quantity of bronze and the level of technical knowledge needed to create such a pair, they were undoubtedly reserved for the highest-ranking nobles in ancient China. Three bands of crisply cast, interlaced dragons running around the exterior suggest that they were made at a foundry established in 585 B.C. at Houma, in Shanxi province. When it was excavated in the mid-20th century, archaeologists uncovered fragments of clay models and moulds that demonstrate how this elaborate ornamentation was achieved.

The Minneapolis Museum of Art houses another, strikingly similar jian, with inscriptions indicating that its original owner was a member of the Zhi clan, a ruling family destroyed in 453 B.C. by the allied Han, Zhao and Wei clans.

A blue and white ‘Dragon’ dish, China, circa 1723-35

A six-character mark on the underside of this large dish indicates that it was made during the reign of Yongzheng, one of the three great emperors of 18th-century China along with Kangxi and Qianlong. But Yongzheng’s reign only lasted 12 years, from 1723 to 1735, meaning that ceramics bearing his seal are particularly scarce.

During this period, blue and white porcelain reached new heights of artistry. Brushwork became freer and almost painterly, with an emphasis on vitality rather than technical precision or regularity. Production numbers were also relatively low: in 1728, the annual output of Yongzheng’s kilns was around 16,500 pieces of porcelain. By 1741, under Qianlong, that figure had swelled to more than 40,000.

Rendered in vivid cobalt, this fluid composition shows an animated five-clawed dragon, the defining symbol of Chinese authority, curled around a shou, a symbol of longevity. It’s a particularly auspicious design, suited to court celebrations and imperial banquets.

The most recent owners of this dish are the descendants of Sir John and Lady Keswick, who kept it at Portrack House in Dumfries, Scotland. One of the most influential business dynasties in Asia, the Keswick family has controlled the Hong Kong-based conglomerate Jardine Matheson for five generations.

A marble figure of a surasundari (celestial beauty), India, circa 11th century

Dating from around the 11th century and standing just over a metre high, this graceful carving depicts a voluptuous female nature spirit. Those who pray to these demi-gods would hope to receive favours in business, agriculture or even love. Believers might also expect divine intervention to produce beautiful, intelligent children of their desired gender.

The compelling sensuality of the surasundari was integral to the sacred purpose of such figures amid the temple sculpture of medieval western India. The auspicious presence of such images of ideal beauty enriched the temple exterior and heralded the divine realm within.

The figure stands beneath luxuriant foliage laden with mangoes and inhabited by playful monkeys. Her full, rounded face, small almond-shaped eyes and gently arched brows complement a body defined by subtle undulations. Especially exquisite is the profusion of jewellery cascading across her torso and thighs, its intricate carving providing a brilliant counterpoint to the broad expanses of sensuously modelled flesh.

A close counterpart — sharing the same sophisticated orchestration of luxuriant ornament against a similarly modelled body — can be found in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

A huanghuali trestle-leg table, China, 17th-18th century

In the making of classical Chinese furniture, two hardwoods carry more prestige than any other. One is zitan, which is dark, heavy and often ornately fashioned, typically used in the Qing imperial workshops. The other is huanghuali: amber in hue, it tends to be used for more minimalist creations, and is associated with the Ming dynasty. Typically, zitan was reserved for the court, while huanghuali was cherished by scholars and merchants.

This huanghuali table, almost three metres wide, is especially rare. Its huge top, richly coloured and with a vigorous grain, is made from a single plank of huanghuali wood, the upturned ends symbolising wealth and status. Yet it is the refinement of the small carved details — including sophisticated openwork panels depicting writhing hornless dragons called chilong — that mesmerises.

The Ming-period scholar Wen Zhenheng wrote in Treatise on Superfluous Things, his 17th-century guide to taste, that these objects — which he called bizhou, or ‘wall-tables’ — were for displaying works of art or offerings. He suggested placing ‘fantastic rocks, seasonal flowers, or miniature tray landscapes’ on them, while also urging the avoidance of ‘garish objects such as red lacquerware’.

A similar, smaller table was used in the Chonghua Palace — within the Forbidden City in Beijing — for the emperor’s children’s studies. Another such example is now in the Palace Museum in Beijing. This table was acquired in 2006 from Grace Wu Bruce, a highly respected Chinese furniture dealer who has earned the nickname ‘the queen of huanghuali’.

A black lacquer six-case inro, Japan, 18th-19th century

In Edo-period Japan, between 1603 and 1868, small containers called inro swung on silk cords from the sashes of men’s kimonos. They were used to carry personal seals, medicinal powder or spices, such as ginseng or cinnamon, but their popularity declined when the subsequent Meiji-era government began to encourage a more Western style of dress — including jackets with pockets.

The glossy black lacquer surface of this inro — less than 10 centimetres high — is a miniature stage-set for a fantastical scene, minutely rendered in powdered gold and silver and finely ground shell. Tsuchigumo, the ‘Earth Spider’, conjures a procession of demons in the chamber of the sleeping samurai Minamoto no Yorimitsu, whose bodyguards are distracted while playing go. Two other attendants scan the horizon, puzzled by a shadowy disturbance.

The design comes from a woodblock print created around 1843 by Utagawa Kuniyoshi. Described as one of Japan’s first political cartoons, it used the image of the sick warrior to satirise the ineffectual shogun of the day. The image became so popular that its publisher recalled stocks and destroyed the printing blocks, fearing retribution — although pirate editions continued to circulate.

This inro comes from the estate of Edward Wrangham, who built one of 20th-century Europe’s most important private collections of Japanese miniature art. In 1972, he lent it, along with 114 other inro, to a pioneering exhibition at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, which was one of the first of its kind outside Japan. Twenty-two years later, he published The Index of Inro Artists, which remains an essential reference tool for the medium.

Dongtian Ying Rock of the Xiaogushan Hall by Liu Dan, China, 2015

Scholars’ rocks — stones eroded by nature into striking or mysterious shapes over millions of years — have been cherished by Chinese literati since the Song dynasty (960-1279). Collected from mountainsides or riverbeds, they were admired for their eye-catching forms, rich hues and dramatic contrasts of mass and hollowness.

According to the contemporary Chinese ink artist Liu Dan, scholars’ rocks represent the ‘stem cells of Chinese landscape’, and their presence creates an imagined vista for contemplation.

Born in Nanjing in 1953, Liu studied traditional Chinese painting at the Jiangsu Academy in Hangzhou between 1978 and 1981. After graduating, he moved to Hawaii, then New York, where he pursued a new visual order for Chinese landscape painting that fused the traditions of Eastern classical ink painting and Western Old Master draughtsmanship.

He is now considered one of the foremost Chinese artists working in ink, and his hyper-realistic depictions of natural forms — usually scholars’ rocks balanced with calligraphy — have been exhibited at the Guggenheim, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Pompidou and the British Museum.

Dongtian Ying Rock of the Xiaogushan Hall is a 2015 scroll painting measuring more than 3.5 metres wide, every detail executed with virtuoso precision. It was purchased from Eskenazi gallery, London’s most renowned dealer in Chinese art, where it was part of the exhibition Transfigured Echoes: Recent Paintings by Liu Dan.

A pair of imperial marble drum stools, China, 17th century

Nature played a leading role in traditional Chinese architecture. Gardens and courtyards reflected a sense of harmony with one’s environment, and furniture that could withstand the elements provided a place for reflection.

Traditional Chinese garden stools evolved from the shape of drums, which were made from animal skins stretched over wooden barrels. The seats were most often porcelain, but some were marble.

These two rare examples were hewn from solid blocks of white marble, a material revered in imperial settings. Each stool has been delicately carved with densely intertwined foliage, octofoil cartouches that enclose pairs of thrashing dragons, and mask-form handles, which would have been used to move their weighty forms around a carefully considered garden setting.

A thangka of Shakyamuni Buddha, Tibet, late 19th to early 20th century

The thangka, a form of Tibetan painting using ground mineral pigment on cotton or silk, functions as one of the principal meditation tools in Buddhist practice. The viewer accrues merit and makes spiritual progress by meditating on the iconographic imagery associated with a particular Buddhist teaching.

This vibrant example from the late 19th or early 20th century depicts Shakyamuni Buddha in a form closely associated with the celebrated Tsan Dan Jo Bo, the miraculous sandalwood image revered as one of Tibet’s most sacred representations of the historical Buddha. Standing majestically at the centre of the composition, Shakyamuni is rendered with a luminous golden complexion and clothed in a heavy grey monastic robe draped over richly layered red and orange garments.

The Buddha, attended by his chief disciples, is framed by an elaborately appointed altar laden with ritual implements, offerings and sacred accoutrements. Flanking the altar are two monk donors accompanied by attendants bearing sutras, a wheel (chakra), torma offerings, and bowls of rice, a reminder of the devotional purpose of the painting.

Particularly distinctive is the treatment of the natural setting. The trees, with their delicately feathered foliage, colouration and decorative rhythm, are characteristic of paintings associated with the influential artistic tradition of Khazi Lhazo.

Khazi Lhazo, whose name means the ‘artist of Khazi village’, remains one of the most celebrated and enigmatic painters in Tibetan art history. Believed to have been one of two artist brothers from the Kongpo region, he is traditionally associated with the dissemination of a highly decorative painting style distinguished by brilliant colours, refined landscape details, and complex architectural settings. Having travelled extensively and worked across central and eastern Tibet, he left an artistic legacy that endured long after his lifetime, influencing generations of painters.

Three celadon ceramic wares, China, Northern Song and Jin dynasties (960-1234)

These three Chinese vessels — a Yue ‘Peony’ ewer, a Yaozhou ‘Boys’ bowl’ and a Yaozhou ‘Peony’ vase — were all carved or moulded, and each covered in a glaze known as celadon.

The technique, which dates back to the Shang (1600-1046 B.C.) and Zhou (1046-256 B.C.) dynasties, involves applying an iron-rich slip to the ceramic before it is fired. During the heating process, the iron oxidises, leaving a lustrous coating that ranges in colour from deep olive to pale grey-green.

These three examples date from the Northern Song (960-1127) and Jin (1115-1234) dynasties. The ewer is of a kind known as Yue ware. Typically produced in kilns across the Ningbo-Shaoxing plain in north-eastern Zhejiang and fired above 1,300°C in order to achieve its signature soft sage colour, it was primarily produced for the imperial court, but by the 8th century was being exported across Asia and as far as Iraq and East Africa.

The vase and bowl are Yaozhou wares, made from the 10th century onwards along the banks of the Qishui River in Huangbao, northern China. Yaozhou potters adopted the styles of Yue ceramics, incising or moulding designs into the objects’ surface that were intended to mimic brushstrokes, and were praised for glazes that resembled highly prized jade.

These three are among 45 ceramic wares in the London sale that come from the Muwen Tang Collection, ranging from dishes to incense burners and pillows. Built across three decades of scholarly research, the pioneering collection spans more than 20 categories of Chinese art, including Republican-period porcelain, basketry, early glass and gold ornaments.

Ryogoku hanabi (Fireworks at Ryogoku Bridge) by Utagawa Hiroshige, Japan, 1858

By the mid-18th century, Edo — now known as Tokyo — was the largest city on Earth, with a population of one million. Fireworks at Ryogoku Bridge became an annual tradition in 1733, when the eighth Tokugawa shogun, Tokugawa Yoshimune, commissioned the first official display in memory of those who had died during a cholera epidemic.

Hiroshige’s Ryogoku hanabi belongs to his series One Hundred Famous Views of Edo, and captures what had become one of the city’s most celebrated summer spectacles, drawing large crowds to the Sumida River. Hiroshige transforms this popular celebration into a poetic nocturnal panorama, contrasting the brilliant bursts of fireworks with the dark expanse of the evening sky and the shimmering reflections on the river.

The numerous boats on the water and spectators gathered on the bridge convey the huge popularity of the event, while the composition captures the distinctive atmosphere of Edo’s summer nights. Through his sensitive balance of light, space and human activity, Hiroshige presents not simply a fireworks display, but a vivid portrait of the social life and seasonal culture of the city.

The artist worked on One Hundred Famous Views of Edo from 1856 until 1858, the year of his death. Hiroshige referred to the sequence as his ‘grand farewell performance’ — a description that seems to fit the picture reproduced here particularly well.

Fine Asian Art is on view until 5 November 2026 at Christie’s in London