In Chinese culture, it is considered incredibly bad etiquette to give clocks as a present to someone. That’s because the phrase “giving a clock” (sóngzhōng 送钟) is very similar to the phrase “attending a funeral” (sòngzhōng 送终) in Chinese. Presenting a clock to someone is like wishing for their death, giving them a countdown that ticks in anticipated steps towards their funeral.
This superstition -quite understandably- was not mentioned in the Science Museum’s extensive exhibition on the Zimingzhong, a collection of clocks that were initially exported from Britain to China in the 1700s. Translated literally, “Zimingzhong” means “bells that ring themselves”- rather than powered by water as many clocks were in China during this time- these clocks are completely self-reliant and tell the time by sound.
Starting in 1601, Italian missionary Matteo Ricci was the first European to enter the Forbidden City and presented two zimingzhong clocks to the emperor. Fascinated by these novel instruments, other European travellers also offered zimingzhongs as gifts when they visited China. Later, Qing dynasty emperors in the 1700s were captivated by these mechanical clocks, and ordered many from Britain where they were made. Soon, these clocks became an important feature of Sino-Anglo trade, used to symbolise the Qing emperors’ widespread knowledge and interest in Western technology. Indeed, Emperor Shizong of Qing (1678-1735) would use these clocks to organise his life and work within the Forbidden Palace.
And it’s not hard to see why the Qing emperors were enamoured by these time-keeping machines. The clocks presently on display at the Science Museum are nothing short of magnificent in their splendour if not in their mechanical power. Every clock was practically bathed in gold and filled with miniatures of gardens, animals, and fruits. The intricate craftsmanship was not lost on exhibition goers either: it was hard to look at the zimingzhongs on display without noticing traces of smudged noses and faces left by previous onlookers.
And the exhibition is able to successfully entice visitors of all ages and interests. Aside for the obvious opulence, there is something for everyone, whether you’re into the minute mechanics of these machines or couldn’t care less about how the clocks work. For the STEM students, there are several models of how these mechanical clocks operate. Visitors can wind back the models and watch the magic unfold from playing gentle musical notes to twirling pineapples. And for the humanities students, there are the distinct styles of each clock that curiously reflect the cultural perception -and self-perception- of the countries involved.
Because the very first zimingzhongs to arrive in China were given as gifts for example, they were distinctively European in style and sentiment.
Once they became popular among the Qing emperors and British artisans were consciously designing for the Chinese market however, the designs became befuddledly orientalist. Many for example, featured a decorative style called “chinoiserie”, comprising of a wide range of figures and imagery found in not only China but also Japan and India such as elephants, palm trees, and figures in turbans.
And when craftsmen in Guangzhou and the Forbidden City were able to replicate the technology present in British-made zimingzhongs, the style and decorations of the clocks became decidedly Chinese.
All-in-all, the Science Museum’s temporary of the zimingzhong is certainly a thought-provoking exhibition if not a visually dazzling one. It weaves aspects of technology, history, and cultural exchange with careful dexterity, cautiously redialling the narratives on Sino-Anglo relations in the past as well as those in the present.
Catch these special clocks exclusively on loan from the Forbidden City' Palace Museum at the Science Museum until 2nd June 2024.
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