The Real McCoy

By Paula Chen

Warning of the perils of curio hunting in Peking, a 1920s visitor wrote: "Most expect to pick up a piece of considerable value for next to nothing, but in fact pick up something worth nothing for quite a considerable sum."

Nowhere should these words of warning -- that worthless fakes abound -- be more shrewdly heeded than in Liulichang, Beijing -- so-called antiques street, where things, and people, have habit of not being what they appear. But I soon found out that there were exceptions to the rule.

It all began when I encountered a more than extraordinary greeting from a gallery owner, impeccably dressed and speaking impeccable English. Immediately, I was curious to find out whether the man who introduced himself as Dick Wang was a Chinese with perfect English, or an Englishman who had successfully opened a gallery in Liulichang. Either eventuality would have been equally remakable. So I accepted Mr. Wang's invitation to take a look inside and was ushered upstairs for tea in a museum-like setting.

"I returned to Beijing -- this is my hometown -- after spending five years with Sotheby's in London and New York," said Wang Ning as he sat surrounded by spotlighted objects in display cases. "People believe that there are few original antiquities left in China," he continued, "but just look around you.

"To be honest, most so-called antique shops here are full of cheap souvenirs for tourists, but here I am building up a gallery with nothing but antiquities of unquestionable authenticity -- in my own humble opinion.

"Well, don't they all say that?" I asked.

"Yes, but if authoritative valuers doubt the originality of any object I've sold, I would willingly refund the paid price to the collector," said Wang.

Wang Ning went to the UK in early 1991, originally to study English. But on arriving at Wirral Metropolitan College of Further Education near Liverpool, the 21-year old Wang quickly found that his English was far better than his classmates. One rainy afternoon he drifted into a local museum at Port Sunlight, the Lady Lever Gallery, to be astounded by the beauty and number of Chinese porcelain pieces in its collection.

In London, he was bewitched by Chinese art works in the Victoria and Albert Museum, the British Museum and at the Sir Percival David Foundation where 3,800 ceramic masterpieces are collected. On his first trip back to Beijing he went to scour the pavements of the roadside market of Panjiayuan, buying a few pieces of blue and white porcelain for a few thousand yuan.

"I couldn't wait to find out whether they were original and, if so, their value," said Wang, "so I went directly from London's Heathrow Airport to Sotheby's valuation counter on New Bond Street."

Wang won, lost and drew on his first bagful from Panjiayuan. Further trips followed and, before long, each bagful produced more and more wins, fewer draws and even fewer losses.

A 12-month course in Asian Art History run by Sotheby's School of Oriental and African Studies in London led to a job in Christie's Chinese Works of Art Department. He was later headhunted "back" by Sotheby's. And somewhere along the way he became a titled lady's tenant in Belgravia. All this did his English and etiquette no harm at all.

Remarkably, Wang had taken just two years to rise from being a part-time waiter in a Chinese restaurant called "The Ming Vase" near his college to carrying out valuation work -- on many Ming vases -- for Sotheby.

"Handling and studying, as well as benefiting from knowledge passed on by the trade'S top experts, was a splendid way to learn," said Wang. " I spent a good three years examining, describing and cataloguing, as well as touring around the UK and Europe on house visits."

Wang was soon to make a name for himself in the field of Chinese snuff bottles. He brought a 250-piece collection to Sotheby's, which commanded a total of 750,000 pounds besides greatly reviving interest in the miniature collectibles. Two more snuff bottle sales followed, with Wang doing all valuations and cataloguing.

"I loved London, it's my favorite city -- after Beijing of course," said Wang, "And it broke my heart to leave it for the madness of New York."

Yet working for Sotheby's in the United States gave Wang the opportunity of valuing Chinese antiquities owned by some of America's stinking rich. On the other side of the coin, he made frequent trips back to China, travelling into the countryside where some highly-skilled artisans come just about as close as is possible to producing the prefect fake.

"With a good eye I learnt a lot, but most of all I realized just how much original material was available in China. I?e come back to develop the trade here, collect myself, and most of all, be the first and best reputable dealer in Beijing."