Everything has remained much as it was in many Sichuan villages along the Chama Gudao, or so it seems. The architecture changes radically from Chengdu to Kangming, from Yading along the Yangtze to Lushi where this image originates. In some areas everything seems unchanged, some seem to have survived the urban ravages of the Sino-Japanese war, those of the popular cultural revolution and the compulsive modernist urbanism of the last century.
Everything seems as it was because much of what has been lost has been rebuilt through a backward historical course rather than a mere urbanistic assumption, utilitarianism or a simple expressive intent. This happens by showing the truth of the spiritual condition of a period and permanently incorporating it into our conscience, like a continuous reminder of history and of those who have departed with it, reviving a sense of belonging. Tea is able to address the drinker like the vernacular residential architectures of western Sichuan address their inhabitants.
In Yunnan along the Dian Zang the architectural residues are now enclosed within new walls that pursue the same aesthetic sentiment just as tea, in my opinion, should transcribe their territory and cultural heritage and pursue the truth more than they did in the past.
With architecture as a metaphor for the world of tea, it is clear how existential it is today to enjoy the vitality of history, that vitality that does not come from the work of a privileged group but from that of humble artisans, an evolutionary tissue of civilization and culture in which order seems to emerge spontaneously, where beyond the political ablations a primordial impulse of belonging arises.
When the predecessors will enjoy the sight of civilization the descendants will enjoy their blessings is what was explained to me about this image. Tea must thus be a symbol and witness of a people, of obligations and of an identity that define our place on earth.
Wild Harvested 