Sourced from Quanzhou’s paper masters
Michael Zhan came across this screen while visiting a small family workshop on the outskirts of Quanzhou in the spring of 2026. He was sourcing bamboo trays for our chá pán line, but the father of the house invited him into the back room where his daughter still presses paper by hand — a practice nearly lost in the rush of industrial production. Each sheet of rice paper is made from the inner bark of the paper mulberry, beaten to a slurry, then spread thinly over mesh screens and sun-dried on wooden racks. The bamboo for the frame is grown thirty kilometres inland, in the Da Hu mountains of Fujian, and is air-cured for two years before being cut and joined with simple dowel joinery. No glue is used on the frame; tension holds it square. The three panels hang from wooden rails, sliding like traditional shōji, but can be folded flat for storage. Michael chose this particular lot for its fineness of grain and the almost imperceptible shimmer the paper carries when backlit. It’s a screen made to mark a corner of a living room as a tea space — a quiet boundary that asks nothing, merely holding light and air a little differently.