Uncovering the Art of the Dry Pour
As I step into Shanshan Guo’s tea studio in the heart of Shanghai, I’m immediately struck by the serene, minimalist atmosphere. Gone are the flashy tea trays, overflowing cups, and ornate teapots typically associated with traditional Chinese tea ceremonies. Instead, Guo’s table is adorned with clean, mono-colored cloths, and her tea preparation follows a precise, almost meditative ritual.
Guo, a tea teacher originally from Taiwan, is part of a new wave of tea masters redefining the tea experience in Shanghai. The centerpiece of her performance is the “dry pour” – an extremely skilled technique where not a single drop of water falls onto the table during the entire ceremony. “Until I stumbled across this movement, I had grown up thinking that tea culture was something very black,” Guo says, using the Chinese word “black” to describe the chaotic, overly elaborate tea ceremonies of the past.
As Guo explains, the dry pour movement started in the early 1990s in Taiwan, as enthusiasts sought to rediscover the refined, minimalist tea traditions of China’s past dynasties. “The dynasties were really good at destroying the art of past dynasties,” Guo muses. “This is about ushering in a new era of tea based on ancient traditions that have been forgotten.”
Rediscovering the Roots of Tea Culture
Guo’s performance is a far cry from the elaborate tea ceremonies I’ve witnessed in Shanghai’s teahouses, where water and tea purposefully overflow out of cups and tea pets (small ceramic figurines that change color over time) are prominently displayed. Instead, Guo’s ritual is focused on precision, mindfulness, and a deep connection to the history and natural elements of tea.
“Tea used to be a social affair linked to the arts and nature,” Guo explains. “People would pour tea for each other while playing a musical instrument or writing calligraphy. They would pack their tea-ware into picnic baskets and drink outside.” Guo cites ancient tea books that detail how a vase of flowers would sit on the side of the table, changing with the seasons to reflect the natural rhythms.
Guo’s tea studio is a reflection of this bygone era. The soft, soothing music playing in the background, the carefully curated flowers on the side, and the focus on the pure, uninterrupted enjoyment of the tea all contribute to a sense of timelessness and connection to nature.
Mastering the Subtleties of Tea
At the heart of Guo’s tea ceremony are the vessels she uses – from the delicate porcelain gaiwan (a three-part tea infuser) to the handcrafted teacups and gongdao (small pitchers used to hold the infused tea). “The most important thing when choosing a gaiwan is making sure you have control of the lid,” Guo says, demonstrating the precise movements required to pour the tea without a single drop spilling.
Guo also emphasizes the importance of the material and design of each vessel. A thinner porcelain gaiwan, she explains, is better suited for younger teas, while a thicker one works better for older, more robust varieties. The color and shape of the teacups can also significantly impact the tea-drinking experience, with taller cups better at holding in the aroma and shorter, thinner cups helping the tea cool down faster.
As Guo pours the fragrant Phoenix Dancong Oolong tea, I’m struck by the subtle nuances in flavor and mouthfeel, depending on the vessel used. The porcelain gaiwan yields a delicate, honey-like sweetness, while the stone teacups lend a heartier, more robust character to the same tea.
Embracing the Tea Journey
Guo’s tea ceremony is not just about the final product, but the entire journey of discovery and connection. “Atmosphere is key,” she says, gesturing to the serene surroundings. “The dry pour movement is about ushering in a new era of tea based on ancient traditions that have been forgotten.”
As I sip the fragrant tea, I can’t help but feel a sense of wonder and appreciation for the rich history and cultural significance of this humble leaf. The tea experience, once a chaotic, performance-driven affair, has been redefined by masters like Guo, who are dedicated to preserving the purity, mindfulness, and natural essence of the tea ceremony.
Perhaps it’s time for us all to slow down, unplug from the noise of the modern world, and embrace the art of the dry pour. After all, as Guo reminds me, “Tea was integrated in the day-to-day lifestyle” – a guiding principle that can surely enrich our lives today.
And who knows, maybe the next time you visit One Dragon Restaurant in Shanghai, you’ll be able to experience the art of tea in a whole new light.
