Patina, WenWan, and the New As Unfinished

The Pristine State

For a lot of manufactured goods, newness represents perfection. The object emerges from its packaging immaculate: polished, unscratched, unblemished. Yet there is something kind of sad about an object whose best day is the day it's bought. From that moment forward, its story is largely one of decline. It may be a  gradual deterioration, or a catastrophic breakage, but the process is all too familiar. Eventually we replace the degraded object with another "perfect" one.

But not all items are the same in this regard. Some things behave differently. A good leather wallet develops character.. it softens and darkens in a pocket. A wooden tool handle becomes smooth where it is held, telling the story of long service. Cast iron develops its seasoning, improving its function and aesthetics in equal step. Raw denim creases and fades according to the movements of the person wearing it. Materials like brass, copper, and even woods will darken over time.. The first ding on a new piece might still hurt (mostly the ego), but over time scratches can eventually cease to look like damage.. The dings and nicks, the creases and fades, oxidation and wear patterns.. they accumulate together and become a different kind of surface. For this class of items, they're not simply "withstanding" use.. the process itself is better seen as part of their development or growth.. a kind of fulfillment or actualization of their potential.

Cultivating an Object

The Chinese concept of WenWan (文玩) provides a rich elaboration of this development/ actualization process. The term is comprised of two characters, Wen (文) meaning culture, and Wan (玩) meaning play. The literal translation has no depth to it, but it's a good starting point. The term actually refers to a whole culture surrounding a special class of objects, their appreciation, their handling, and their use. It can be understood as a noun, a verb, and an adjective all in one, and it points not just to the objects themselves, but to the relationship we have with them. Traditionally, wen wan objects have been small items with playful appeal and daily function, things like beaded bracelets, walnuts rolled in the hands, small carved items, and other small goods made from clay, stone, wood, and other natural materials.. It's an eclectic mix, and what unifies these objects is more the mentality with which they're approached than anything inherent to the objects themselves. With WenWan, the appreciation for the item develops over time, through handling, resulting in a kind of mutual cultivation. 

One of the important practices within this culture is PanWan (盘玩), literally referring to the repeated handling, rubbing, rolling and manipulation of an object over long periods of time. Like WenWan, PanWan makes use of the term Wan (玩, meaning play). The term can sound almost trivial when translated simply as "playing with," but the practice suggests something deeper, more like cultivation through attentive use.. it implies deep intention and awareness. 

Over months and years of handling, these special objects change. The colours deepen, surfaces smooth, lustre develops. The result is often referred to as BaoJiang (包浆), commonly translated as patina. This is not simply patina as oxidation or superficial coating.. It's not the kind of wear and weathering that come from neglect or carelessness, but rather, the aura of character and respectability developed through honest use. The related verb used in WenWan practice is Yang (养), meaning to nourish, raise, maintain or cultivate. Significantly, within WenWan, the process of Yang is a reciprocal one. The patina is actively cultivated with the object, and the process cultivates the owner in turn. The language is striking because it positions the owner of the object not as a passive consumer, but as something more like a custodian.. almost a caregiver. We don't simply possess the object, we bond with it, participate in what it becomes, and join that journey along with it. 

This bond of mutual cultivation is the aspect most relevant to Aroundsquare's products. While flipping a set of beads and dedicated skill practice goes beyond the traditional low key handling implied by PanWan, the degree of focus and attention is similar. The type of BaoJiang/ patina developed by our harder-use items also goes beyond that of traditional WenWan. Any of our items played sufficiently hard is going to be battered against itself, and/ or the ground fairly frequently. As a result, rather than a smooth lustre from gentle handling, our goods are more likely to develop a hammered or tumbled look over time. And perhaps even more in the case of skill-based manipulation than traditional WenWan, the process of cultivation, or Yang, is a mutual one. Rather than idle handling, most of our products tend to invite a kind of flow state, intentional practice, challenge, and different kind of dedication to skill development.. a process with its own additional set of rewards. 

Patina Versus Damage

There is an important distinction here between wear and patina. They may be physically similar phenomena. Both can involve scratches, oxidation, fading, abrasion, oils, dirt and countless tiny alterations to a surface. The difference is partly psychological--how we make sense of those changes and how we frame the process. But there's a very concrete physical aspect to it as well.. how the materials themselves respond to those changes. Together the process becomes about how those changes are incorporated into the identity of the thing.. put simply, some objects accumulate damage, while others accumulate history. 

This has something in common with the Japanese aesthetic of Wabi Sabi, with its appreciation for impermanence, irregularity, weathering and age. But WenWan introduces a particularly interesting participatory dimension. Rather than simply appreciating what time has done, the PanWan/ handling process foregrounds the ongoing interaction between person and thing. The walnut becomes polished because someone has spent hundreds of hours turning it in their hand. Or in the case of a set of begleri, the surface transforms entirely as it collects thousands of tiny impacts. These aging processes are not passive, nor are they entirely deliberate.. they are a co-production that tells the story of companionship. 

New Is Not the Perfected State

This all points towards a kind of inversion of one of the assumptions underlying modern consumer culture. We implicitly assume that the pristine new condition of a thing is the perfected state.. but what if new isn't even the finished object? It doesn't take a lot to flip our thinking here and recognize that what comes out of the factory is only the starting condition. It is a carefully prepared surface designed, in most cases, to sell a dream.. a kind of fictional "perfected" state in which something is untouched. But the reality is that this same surface is simply the canvas on which the object's subsequent life will be recorded. Seen this way, the first scratch or ding on a new item is not the moment it's ruined.. it's not even a "blemish." Instead, that is the moment when an individual object's story actually begins.

This perspective changes what good product design might mean. Ordinarily, durability means resistance to change. We praise materials for remaining as close as possible to their original condition. Stainless steel is damn hard and it stays stainless. Failing durability, we move to protection. Coatings on surfaces. Plastic couch covers.. cases and screen protectors on our electronics, and so on.

There is nothing wrong with this. Some objects should resist change, and some have vulnerabilities that will render them useless or dangerous if impacted. But there is another possibility: designing for graceful change (or potential repair) rather than preventing change altogether. Minimalist forms tend to handle wear more easily than complex, intricate designs. Modularity and replaceable components allow an item to endure even if some part of it ultimately breaks down. And in terms of materials, there are many options that are capable of enduring change, rather than resisting it. In WenWan, many of the most prized materials are beloved precisely because they do change. But the principle doesn't stop there. Most metals, woods, leather, horn, and a great many other durable materials are valued in part because their material properties allow for this kind of gradual change. Rather than degrading or breaking down entirely, their surfaces are capable of recording interaction without necessarily becoming ugly. They provide enough durability to survive while remaining sufficiently receptive to change, and through use, they record their own histories.


Objects With Biographies

Mass production creates identical objects, but use makes them particular. Two objects can leave a factory indistinguishable from one another and, years later, look completely different. One person's brass object may become dark and mottled.. another will be dinged and scratched, while yet another's may remain bright where their fingers continually polish it. Leather creases around what it carries. Wood becomes smooth where it is touched. Raw denim records knees, pockets, wallets and movement.

In this sense, patina is information.. a kind of narrative. It is a physical record of the relationship between an object, its environment, and the person who uses it. That may help explain why heavily used possessions can sometimes become more valuable to their owners even as their resale value decreases. But it also sheds light on the rising tide of high end vintage goods. In a world of mass-produced sameness, wear is a sign of authenticity that is difficult to fake. The wear that makes the object less interchangeable on the market makes it less interchangeable personally as well. Part of this is the personal investment of time and use that has gone into it. Part of it may be sentimentality. And part of it is the personalized way in which a well-used item adapts to the way it has been used. You can buy another wallet, but you can't buy your old wallet new. 

And maybe this is one reason these objects can resist the logic of disposability. If an object's ideal state lies behind it, replacement is always tempting. But if the object is still becoming something, replacement means interrupting a process. The old thing isn't merely surviving.. it is maturing. 

Designed To Be Unfinished

There is a satisfying little paradox here for anyone who makes physical things. We might devote enormous effort to getting a surface exactly right--machining, sanding, tumbling, blasting, or otherwise finishing it.. and yet the purpose of that perfect surface may ultimately be to disappear. That requires a different conception of perfection. The goal isn't to create an object that remains untouched, but rather, to create one that invites use and is capable of changing as well. And for durable goods, that's probably one of the highest qualities it can possess.. not permanence or immunity from wear, but rather, the capacity to accumulate a life of its own. And ain't that a good little reminder for the rest of us as well?