Imperial Chinese JADES That Surprised Antiques Roadshow!

My mother gave them to me about 30 years ago and she acquired them, so she told me, in the New York Chinatown in the 40s probably. Did she buy them at auction? Did she buy them privately? I have to assume she was at a store. Okay. How have you kept them in your house? I hate to admit, they have been living in their wooden boxes for 30 years and I've been hesitant to bring them out because she told me that they were very valuable and I didn't have a really good place to put them. Carved around the turn of the 20th century, these figures are larger than most examples from the period, immediately setting them apart. They're worked from jadeate, a material prized for its depth, translucency, and symbolic associations with purity and clarity of spirit. The stone here is especially appealing. Soft lavender tones drift through the bodies, a color long admired by both Chinese and Western collectors, while subtle accents of apple green animate the peonies and headdresses. Those flashes of color weren't accidental. They were deliberately placed to draw the eye and enliven the composition. Each maiden holds a peony, a flower traditionally linked to wealth, honor, and noble character. Whether these figures represent immortals or idealized women is left intentionally ambiguous, allowing symbolism and beauty to coexist without rigid definition. The carving style favors elegance over drama, with smooth contours and gentle movement rather than sharp, forceful lines. Objects like these were created during a moment of cultural exchange. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, jadeate carvings increasingly appealed to Western buyers, who were drawn to both the stone's mystique and the values it represented. Many such figures were integrated into interiors as lamp bases during the Victorian and Edwardian periods, bridging Eastern symbolism with Western decorative taste. Natural inclusions are visible within the jade, confirming the authenticity of the material and its age. While jadeite once sat in the shadow of white nephrite, collector preferences have shifted dramatically. Today, high-quality jadeite, especially pieces with appealing color and scale, is strongly sought after, particularly by buyers from mainland China. So what do you think they're worth? Probably a few thousand dollars. Even with the inclusions in the stone, these pieces, if they were up at auction, would have a pre-sale estimate of $25,000 to $40,000. That's amazing. I was in college in New York City in 1965, 66, and I went home for Thanksgiving vacation. My birthday usually falls on Thanksgiving vacation, and a very good friend of mine who was an antiques dealer in Baltimore called me up and said that he had a piece that he'd gotten from an estate that he thought that I should have. So I went and looked at it and fell in love with it instantly. I asked him what the price was, and he told me, and I said, oh, well, I can't afford that. And he said, well, go home and ask your mother to give it to you for your birthday. So I did. And she said, oh, well, that was way too much, and I said, well, how about birthday and Christmas? She gave it to me for my birthday and Christmas combined. She paid $350. The entire vessel is carved from a single block of jade, an achievement on its own. But what truly elevates it are the details that move, literally. The loose articulated rings suspended from the handles are technically demanding, requiring absolute precision. One mistake, and the stone would crack. Add to that the butterfly-shaped handle and the flowing lotus vines carved in raised relief, and suddenly this isn't quiet anymore. It's deliberate. The lotus decoration wraps continuously around the body, rising from vines that seem to grow organically from beneath the censer. It's a design language deeply rooted in classical Chinese symbolism, purity, renewal, harmony. Stylistically, the censer looks backward in time. Its inspiration clearly echoes the refined aesthetics associated with the Qianlong period of the 18th century. But small carving choices, subtle tool marks in the leaves, a slightly more mechanical finish, reveal its true origin in the early 20th century, when master craftsmen were intentionally reviving older imperial styles. I did have it appraised in 1982, and that appraisal was $20,000. If you wanted to sell this at auction today, my sense is that it would be in the $50,000 to $80,000 range at auction, which is a pretty good price. Well, it's still a very nice birthday present. Oh, lord, yes. Don't you think? And I have to say, I don't know many people that have put $300 down and ended up with something like this. My dad got them from a family when he was in Formosa. It was in the middle of the 50s. All he told us was that a family that he had stayed with and was friends with gave him that as a parting gift when he came home. Do you have any idea how old they are? Did you have any assumptions? Yes. My father had taken them to the museum in San Francisco at one time in a brown bag on the bus, and he said that it was the Qinlong Dynasty, 1735 to 1796, and that was all the information. Each ram is carved from white jade with areas of natural russet skin, a feature that carvers often preserved intentionally rather than polished away. That contrast between milky white stone and warm brown surface adds depth and character, giving the animals a sense of life and age. The carving is fluid and controlled, especially in the curves of the bodies and the expressive heads, which feel alert rather than ornamental. The symbolism here is layered and unmistakably Chinese. Rams are associated with strength and masculine power and also hold a place within the zodiac system. But the message goes further. Each ram is shown biting a sprig of Lingzi fungus, a long-standing symbol of immortality and spiritual longevity. Power and eternal life, combined in a single sculptural form, make these far more than decorative figures. Subtle details reinforce that meaning. Swirling cloud motifs and a stylized sun carved into the composition echo themes of cosmic balance and renewal. Stylistically, the pair looks back to the refined carving traditions associated with the Qinlong era, when imperial workshops set exceptionally high standards. However, that tradition didn't disappear with the 18th century. Skilled jade carving continued well into the early 20th century, particularly during the Republic period, when artisans consciously revived earlier styles while maintaining excellent workmanship. These rams fit squarely within that lineage. Equally important is their historical placement. Being firmly identifiable as pre-1950s objects gives them strong credibility in today's market, where clear timelines matter deeply to collectors. Mainland Chinese buyers, in particular, continue to favor white jade works like this, regardless of whether they date to the imperial period or slightly later. So what do you think they're worth? I don't know. I was told once they were worth about $2,000. Well, as Republic period pieces, at auction, they would be worth or carry a pre-sale estimate of at least $15,000 to $25,000. Wow. Now, if, in fact, they were Qianlong, they would be worth considerably more, maybe $80,000 to $120,000. I was told when I purchased it that it was jade, but I never had that confirmed. And I've always wondered. I purchased it at an auction about 10 or maybe a little more than 10 years ago. And at the time it was sold for jade, I paid about $50 for it. What immediately sets this piece apart is its form. The gently sloping sides and circular profile don't conform to the most common jade vessel shapes, giving it a presence that feels both restrained and unconventional. Instead of resting flat, the sensor stands on three short supports, each carved as a fierce stylized mask. These squat, lion-like faces with bulging eyes and compact legs inject energy into an otherwise serene object, balancing elegance with power. The stone itself reveals more the longer it's observed. Subtle veining runs through the pale green surface, a characteristic associated with fine celadon jade. That soft color has long been admired in works from the late 18th century, but it also appears in high-quality carvings produced during the early 20th century, when artisans intentionally echoed older imperial tastes. The rim is thin and beautifully hollowed, a technical achievement that suggests confidence and experience with the material. One detail collectors often search for, a carved mark on the base, is missing here. But absence doesn't mean insignificance. The sharply defined feet, careful hollowing, and balanced proportions all point toward a piece made with serious intent. Conservatively, it fits best in the early 20th century, when revival styles flourished and craftsmanship remained exceptional. I think a conservative number is going to be in the range of $15,000 to $20,000, and that would be at auction. I'm astonished. Totally unexpected. Totally astonished. Let's pretend that I could prove that it was to a period such as the Jia Qing period, which is an emperor that followed the Qinlong Emperor, so 1796 to 1820. If it were from that time period, then I think you're probably looking at a value that's more in the $50,000 to $80,000 range. At auction. That is incredible. That's a shock. Truly. My great-grandfather was the ambassador to China during the Box Rebellion, and my great-grandmother befriended the empress. She didn't like most foreigners, but she did like her. And when my mother was born, the empress dowager sent one of her ladies-in-waiting to buy a present, and this was the present. There were two of these. My sister has the other one. At its center is a carved jadeite pendant dating to the 19th century. The stone itself is exceptional, a vivid saturated green with remarkable translucency, the kind of jadeite that seems to hold light rather than simply reflect it. Jadeite of this quality was never casual. It was valued for its rarity, its durability, and its cultural weight, long associated with virtue, status, and continuity in Chinese society. Carved into the surface are the characters for double happiness, a motif traditionally connected to celebration, union, and prosperity. It's a message meant to endure, not just decorate. The pendant is accented with a coral bead and delicate seed pearls, elements that echo how such pieces were originally worn, likely suspended on silk rather than metal, allowing the jade to remain the unquestioned focus. As a work of carving alone, this necklace already stands strong, but what elevates it into another category entirely is its historical context. During the late Qing dynasty, jade objects like this were often used as diplomatic gestures, tokens of favor, respect, and cultural exchange. In the aftermath of immense political pressure and upheaval, carefully chosen gifts helped communicate stability, sophistication, and continuity to the outside world. This pendant fits squarely within that tradition. I'd estimate the value on this is just a nice piece of jade at $30,000 to $50,000. Oh my gosh, I'm very surprised. In addition, because of the provenance on the piece, right, this could easily go twice that high end, and that would be at auction. I'm amazed. It's, yeah, it's the kind of thing, this pendant, if it were 30 years ago, 700 bucks. Really? You know. So the fact that it's been in the family all this time. Yeah, exactly. Has made a difference. It certainly did. It certainly has. My dad used to collect Indonesian and Persian weapons. He allowed me to take a piece from his collection, and that had jewels, and of course as a girl, jewels are something that I really am drawn to, so I selected that piece. He told me that it was a knife handle. He believed it was a knife handle, because it was only the hilt, with no blades, so he believed it was a knife handle. The core material is white jade, a stone prized not only for its beauty, but for its extraordinary toughness. Carving jade into a pierced, open work form like this requires patience and absolute control. The stone resists every cut. Here, the surface is carefully shaped and evenly proportioned, suggesting an experienced workshop rather than experimental craftsmanship. The result feels fluid, not forced. Surrounding the jade is a vibrant arrangement of gemstones set with foil backs, a hallmark of Indian court jewelry. Emeralds glow with saturated green, pale stones are backed to enhance their brightness, and the red gems introduce complexity. Some fluoresce strongly, while others do not, a detail that hints at a deliberate mixture of rubies and spinels rather than a single stone type. That combination is especially telling, as later works tend to rely more consistently on rubies alone. This object was never meant to be a blade. Its form aligns far more closely with ceremonial accessories, likely a flywhisk handle or parasol handle, items carried by members of the Mughal elite as symbols of authority and status. During the late 19th century, when regional princes still maintained their courts, such accessories were markers of wealth, taste, and political presence. Time has left its mark. Small losses in the jade, and areas where color has faded slightly, remind us that this was once used, not locked away. Those condition issues temper the value, but don't diminish the significance. If anything, they reinforce its authenticity as a lived object from a fading, aristocratic world. In an auction market today, I would place this piece in its condition at around $7,000 to $9,000. Fantastic. That's great. The only thing that I know is that it belonged to my mother, and she collected some objects that were Asian origin. Okay. Well, she had beautiful taste. Carved from white nephrite jade, the figure represents Guan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of mercy and compassion. In Chinese culture, jade of this tone, clean, even, and free from discoloration, is especially revered. The absence of brown, green, or cloudy inclusions isn't accidental. It reflects both careful material selection and a cultural preference that values spiritual clarity as much as visual beauty. Guan Yin is shown holding a lotus blossom, a symbol of purity and enlightenment, rising unstained from muddy waters. In her lowered hand rests a fly whisk, an object traditionally associated with sweeping away earthly distractions. What elevates this figure further is its silver mount. The jade is framed with carefully worked silver adorned with Buddhist motifs, and the back is fully chased rather than left plain, an extra step that signals thoughtful craftsmanship. And at auction today, I think it would easily bring between $3,000 and $5,000. Wow. Okay. Well, thank you very much. That's a nice estimate for such a small little stone, isn't it? It certainly is. This was inherited from my wife's uncle's estate. He traveled around the world for business, and he had an interest in antiques, arms, and armor. He would frequent collectors, mostly in Europe and sometimes in Asia, and he purchased quite a few daggers and some guns. The form itself is that of a jambiya, a curved dagger traditionally associated with regions stretching from Anatolia through the Levant and into Arabia. On their own, these weapons don't always command attention in the arms market. What changes everything here is the hilt. Carved from luminous white jade, it reflects Mughal Indian craftsmanship of exceptional quality. The jade has a clean, confident color, dense, smooth, and expertly shaped, suggesting a workshop accustomed to carving for elite patrons. The hilt is further enriched with gemstones. Rubies appear alongside amethysts, garnets, and a line of turquoise set to create rhythm rather than excess. Whether these jewels were part of the original conception or added later, they align perfectly with Mughal decorative traditions, where color and symmetry conveyed power and refinement rather than aggression. The blade tells yet another story. Made from wootz steel, it carries finely carved hunting scenes, an elite motif associated with nobility, control, and mastery. The quality of the engraving places the blade in the 18th century, later than the hilt, yet chosen carefully to match its prestige. The scabbard, executed in silver, adds a final layer, pointing toward Ottoman craftsmanship. This is where the piece becomes truly fascinating. Mughal jade, a Persian-style blade, and Ottoman silverwork converge into a single, unified weapon. Such combinations weren't accidental. They were assembled intentionally for high-status owners who moved through interconnected courts and trade networks, selecting the finest elements from multiple cultures. These are selling right now at auction in the range of $15,000 to $20,000. Wow. That's way more than I thought, yeah. I believe them to be jade. They were both purchased at Housing Works thrift shops right here in the city, and I bought them over 10 years ago individually from two separate events that they had, and I believe them to be jade. I don't know. Okay, and which one do you think is the oldest of the two? I'm going to say the belt. Do you happen to know the purpose of the other object? I believe it to be a compact. The first is the belt itself. At a glance, it presents familiar Chinese imagery, stylized dragons arranged in a manner associated with imperial-era design. But material matters. Unlike true jade, this piece is carved from a softer stone, likely serpentine or soapstone, materials often used for decorative reproductions. The dragons reference older Ming-style motifs, yet the execution suggests this belt was never intended to deceive. It was made as an ornamental echo of the past, not a relic of it. As such, its value remains close to its original purchase price, a decorative object rather than a historic one. The second piece, however, is where everything changes. What appears at first to be a compact reveals itself as something far more significant, an 18th-century white jade belt fitting. The jade is exceptional, nearly pure white, with no visible inclusions, the kind of material prized above all else in Chinese hardstone carving. The surface is alive with auspicious symbolism. A fu bat signifies good fortune, shoe medallions promise longevity, and scrolling dragon heads reinforce protection and authority. Every detail serves a purpose, both visual and symbolic. The hinged construction is particularly important. This wasn't casual carving. It required precision, planning, and mastery of an unforgiving material. The mirror inside, while clever, is. A later addition, inserted in the early 20th century when such belt fittings were repurposed for Western tastes. Remarkably, in this case, that modification doesn't diminish the value. The jade, the carving, and the integrity of the hinge remain dominant. Dating to the Qianlong period, around 1760 to 1780, this belt fitting survives as an authentic fragment of imperial Chinese dress culture. An object once worn, later adapted, and now rediscovered. So you paid $55 for this and $200 for this? Correct. Let me start by saying this is probably worth what you paid for it or less. Okay. Now, the white jade hinged belt fitting would carry a very conservative auction estimate of around $4,000 to $6,000. Wow. I'm impressed. I bought it because it's beautiful. What did you pay for it? A dollar. Actually, I didn't pay the dollar. My girlfriend and I, we do thrift stores. Yeah. And we get gifts for each other. And it has to come from a thrift store, and this was a gift. Wow. Light does most of the talking with this piece. When the bowl is held up, the jade almost glows from within, revealing just how thin and delicately worked it truly is. Carving jade to this degree, especially into a functional vessel, is exceptionally difficult. One wrong movement and the stone fractures. Here, the walls are refined to a near eggshell thinness, a quiet demonstration of technical confidence rather than bravado. The material is white jade, prized for its softness and translucency. While the color isn't perfectly uniform, there are gentle, cloudy ivory tones drifting through the stone. That variation actually gives the bowl warmth and depth. Instead of looking flat or sterile, it feels organic, alive, and tactile, qualities that many collectors genuinely appreciate. Around the exterior are four finely carved emblems, each tied with flowing ribbons. These are symbols associated with the Taoist immortals, figures linked to longevity, protection, and spiritual transcendence. Traditionally, there are eight immortals, and objects like this were often made as pairs, each bowl carrying half the symbolic set. The carving is restrained and precise, allowing the imagery to exist without overpowering the form of the bowl itself. Stylistically, the piece aligns with the late 19th century, a time when jade carvers were pushing technical limits while still honoring classical symbolism. This wasn't about excess. It was about refinement. The bowl balances translucency, symbolism, and proportion in a way that feels effortless, though nothing about its creation would have been easy. A bowl like this, very conservatively at auction, would sell between $3,000 to $5,000. Good. I inherited it. It was my great-aunt Hazel. She brought it out of China in the 40s or 50s. The first thing that stands out is the setting. The mounting is unmistakably art deco, crafted in 14-karat gold and accented with diamonds arranged in a clean, geometric rhythm. This kind of design favored symmetry, precision, and confidence, hallmarks of the 1920s when jewelry was meant to feel modern and intentional rather than ornamental. The diamonds frame the centerpiece without overpowering it, acting almost like architectural supports. At the heart of the ring is a carved piece of Chinese jadeate, and that's where the deeper story lives. Jadeate has long held a special status in Chinese culture, valued not just for beauty but for its associations with protection, longevity, and moral virtue. What makes this example especially interesting is that the jade predates the ring itself. The stone was originally carved earlier, then later reworked and shaped to fit a Western mounting, a practice that became more common as Chinese materials entered global markets in the early 20th century. The color and texture of the jadeate are key. Its presence is calm and confident rather than flashy, offering a soft visual contrast to the sharp sparkle of the surrounding diamonds. That balance is deliberate. Instead of competing, the materials elevate one another, blending Eastern symbolism with Western fashion sensibilities. By the time this ring was assembled, it wasn't just jewelry. It was a cultural hybrid, reflecting a period when Chinese jade was increasingly appreciated by international collectors and designers. Pieces like this appealed to buyers who wanted something distinctive, meaningful, and quietly luxurious. At auction today, this ring would be worth in the $8,000 to $12,000 range. Wow. Well, I know it's a carved jade vessel, and we got it on a state sale about 18 years ago in Nashville, and I really don't know a whole lot about it. The material is jadeate, identifiable by its cool, icy white body and faint, pale green tones dispersed through the stone. While it lacks the intense emerald flashes that sit at the very top of the jadeate hierarchy, this piece compensates in another way—scale. Large blocks of jadeite suitable for carving are uncommon, and committing one to a fully carved vessel is a deliberate choice. Nothing about this was tentative. The form itself is deeply rooted in Chinese tradition. This type of vase shape has been produced for centuries, evolving from the Ming Dynasty onward, yet always retaining a sense of balance and symmetry. The carved handles extend outward with foliate scrolls, and the freely moving rings suspended from them serve no functional purpose at all. They exist purely to demonstrate skill, proof that the carver could remove stone from stone without breaking either. The surface decoration elevates the vase further. Guanyin, the goddess of mercy, appears in two distinct portrayals, each carved with flowing robes and controlled movement. On one side, she is accompanied by a carp, a symbol of good fortune and perseverance. The carving style—graceful, detailed, and slightly theatrical—reflects inspiration drawn from Indian Mughal jade traditions, which strongly influenced Chinese decorative arts in the early 20th century. Importantly, the walls of the vase are relatively thick. Earlier examples, especially from the Qing Dynasty, tend to be much thinner and lighter. This structural weight helps place the vase firmly in the first half of the 20th century, when such pieces were made primarily for display rather than ritual use. So what did you pay for this? Well, I think we paid approximately around $500. And you've had some people tell you that it's worth how much? Well, some people said $1,200 to $1,500. I would say in an auction market, this is likely to realize somewhere between $12,000 and $18,000 in today's market. All right. So that's a pretty good bit of compounded interest, isn't it? Tenfold or so. Yes, I couldn't put money in the bank for that. I think so. Were this from the late Qing Dynasty, it would be valued in the $150,000 to $250,000 range. My cousin was in China in the 1920s, and he brought them back at that time and gave them to my grandmother, who in turn left them to me. And so I don't ever remember seeing anyone wear the beads. Have you worn them? No, I have never worn the beads. The necklace is composed of jadeate, the most prized form of jade, cut into graduated beads ranging from very small to modestly sized. While larger beads often dominate headlines, connoisseurs know that uniformity, translucency, and color harmony matter just as much. When light passes through these beads, it reveals a pleasing level of translucency, an immediate sign of quality jadeate rather than decorative stone. The color sits in a gentle green range, not the intense imperial emerald, but refined, balanced, and elegant. There are imperfections, faint veins, and internal stress lines that naturally occur in jadeate. Rather than disqualifying the piece, these details confirm authenticity. Jade that is perfectly flawless is often treated, altered, or modern. This strand shows honest structure, material that has lived a long life without disguise. What truly transforms the necklace is its finish. The clasp is not an afterthought. It was chosen deliberately and professionally, elevating the jade from a souvenir into a serious piece of jewelry. When jadeate was brought back from China in the early 20th century, it was often restrung by top Western jewelers who understood how to present it properly. That decision permanently changed how such pieces were perceived and collected. Equally important is what didn't happen. These beads weren't worn thin by decades of use. They were preserved, respected, and left untouched, allowing their surface, polish, and integrity to remain intact. That restraint adds value today. Now, do you have any idea what these are? I really have no idea. I'm going to say $25,000 to $35,000. Oh, my goodness. How wonderful. That is wonderful. So are you happy? Yes. I think you should wear them. Oh, you do? I absolutely think you should. I'm being nervous right now to wear them. I absolutely think these should be worn every single day. My husband's great-uncle Jake was a correspondent for the Philadelphia Ledger in the 30s. He enjoyed traveling and collecting, and he particularly enjoyed collecting Asian pieces. The shape is known as a hu, a vessel form rooted in early Chinese bronze traditions. Rather than inventing something new, the carver deliberately looked backward, borrowing the language of antiquity and translating it into stone. At the top, a stylized mask emerges, its eyes forming a subtle ridge down the front of the vessel. This mask, recognizable as a tauti, was a dominant motif on ritual bronzes, long associated with authority, mystery, and the supernatural. As the eye moves downward, the surface becomes increasingly complex. Scrolling elements sit atop a tightly organized ground of repeating interlace patterns, derived from the ancient Lewin motif. These designs weren't chosen for decoration alone. They were visual, shorthand for age, continuity, and cultural memory, signals instantly understood by informed viewers. Turn the vase, and another layer appears. An animal head projects outward, its mouth gripping a loose ring handle. This ring serves no functional purpose. It exists to demonstrate technical mastery, proving that the carver could free stone from stone without fracture. At the same time, it reinforces the illusion of antiquity, echoing details seen on excavated bronzes. Even the stone itself plays a role in the deception, though not a dishonest one. Natural discolorations were intentionally left visible to suggest burial, weathering, and time. This was never meant to pass as ancient, but rather to honor the past through informed revival. Dating to the late Qing Dynasty, around 1880 to 1900, the vase reflects a moment when Chinese artisans consciously embraced archaistic design, blending reverence with technical confidence. Today, if this came up for auction, we would expect it to sell between $8,000 and $12,000. Okay. I am very surprised. That's marvelous. If you'd come a few years ago, it wouldn't have been anywhere near that. It came from my grandmother's jewelry box, and I know nothing about it. I inherited it in 1988, and I've wondered what it is ever since. This is a jabat, a form of jewelry designed to secure large shawls and garments at a time when fashion favored layers and movement. Function mattered as much as beauty. The twisting mechanism allows it to separate, revealing a sharp pin engineered to hold heavy fabric without damaging it. It's jewelry built with purpose. The terminals are carved jadeate spheres, glowing in soft greens that range from pale to vivid. Jadeate, distinct from nephrite jade, was especially prized for its translucency and color variation. The carved cloud and foliate motifs point unmistakably to Chinese origin, and these elements weren't made for this piece originally. They were once part of a traditional Chinese court necklace, objects worn to signify rank within the civil or military hierarchy. Repurposing them into Western jewelry reflects a moment when Eastern materials were being reimagined for European tastes. Surrounding the jadeate is a framework of platinum, a metal that defined elite jewelry of the era. Set into it are rich rubies and small old-mine diamonds, chosen not for excess sparkle but for texture and contrast. The stones are balanced rather than dominant, allowing the jadeate to remain central. Though unsigned, the craftsmanship speaks clearly. The design, materials, and execution align with high-quality French jewelry from around 1915, a period fascinated by Asian aesthetics and technical innovation. This wasn't mass-produced ornament. It was the work of a skilled workshop, fluent in both cultures. Today, replacing a piece like this would be no small task. Its mix of authentic Chinese jadeate, fine gemstones, and platinum construction places it firmly in the realm of serious collectible jewelry. Is this something that you want to keep in your family? Yes. Okay, so I'm going to give you an insurance value for this. So if you went to buy this today, this would be at least $10,000. $10,000? $10,000. Wow. I'm shocked. I am shocked. That's great. Fantastic. These were pieces that my great-aunt, who lived in Peking, gave to my mother and father. Grouped together, these figures seem to tell a single story. But in reality, they reveal two very different intentions shaped by time, taste, and audience. The camel immediately evokes deep history. Its posture and styling recall imagery associated with the Tang Dynasty, an era when China stood at the center of vast trade networks stretching across Asia. Camels symbolized movement, wealth, and exchange, carrying silk and luxury goods along routes that quietly connected east and west. But this example doesn't belong to that ancient world. Its glaze, scale, clay body, and molded details point to a much later moment. Rather than a burial object, it's a 20th-century homage made to echo the romance of Tang-era tomb figures without attempting to pass as one. As a decorative revival piece, its value remains modest, appreciated more for charm than antiquity. The jadeate figures, however, shift the conversation entirely. Carved from richly colored jadeate, these two figures display a blend of lavender, deep green, and translucent stone, hallmarks of quality material sourced from what is now Myanmar. Judite behaves differently from nephrite, catching light and depth in a way that feels almost fluid. That quality alone elevates these pieces well beyond decoration. The imagery is equally compelling. Dragons with oversized heads sit atop plinths, more commonly associated with Buddhist lions, creating a deliberate visual tension. The lotus-inspired bases reinforce spiritual and cultural symbolism, grounding the figures while adding architectural presence. Rather than functioning as bookends, these were likely intended as focal points, objects meant to anchor a display in a refined interior. Dating to around the 1920s, these carvings were probably made for a Chinese audience rather than Western export, reflecting domestic taste during a period of cultural transition. Their scale, material, and confident carving place them firmly in the realm of serious decorative art. All of us agreed that I think that a value in the neighborhood of around $20,000 to $30,000 would not be unexpected, and that would be at auction. I was given the ring by my Aunt Margaret. She was a teenager when she got the ring. She showed horses, and Sarah Hines, who is the sister of H.J. Hines, asked her to show their horses for them. And since she was an amateur, she wasn't allowed to receive money. So after one year of showing, she was given this jade ring out of Sarah Hines' jade collection. She rode up until she was about 80 years old. I never remember seeing her without the ring. She wore it all the time. The ring dates to the late 1920s, right at the height of the Art Deco era. Its design is crisp and architectural, favoring strong geometry over ornament. The mounting is platinum, a metal chosen not just for beauty but for durability, capable of withstanding constant wear, even an active life spent on horseback. At the center sits a beautifully colored jade plaque. The stone shows a soft, confident hue with only minor inclusions, details that collectors readily accept in natural jade from this period. What matters more is authenticity. Jewelry from the 1920s predates modern jade treatments, making pieces like this especially desirable today. The jade is framed by sapphires, arranged to provide contrast and rhythm, though one stone is now missing, a reminder of how fully this ring was lived in. Despite that loss, the overall presence remains powerful. Replacing a sapphire cut precisely to match the others would be difficult, but the integrity of the piece is intact. Its proportions, materials, and period character are unmistakable. What truly elevates this ring is how well it aligns with current collecting trends. Demand for early 20th century jade jewelry has risen sharply, driven by both its untreated nature and its association with confident, modern design. Rings like this sit at the intersection of fashion history and gemstone rarity. I think today you're probably looking at $15,000 to $20,000 to have this ring replaced, and I think if you had to sell it to buy a horse at auction, you're probably in the $10,000 to $12,000 range today. Wow, that's amazing. My grandmother collected Asian art, and she especially loved jade, and this is a piece from her collection. I've had it in my possession for maybe five to six years. She told me that she understood that when she purchased it, that it was given to General MacArthur from Chiang Kai-shek. Now, I don't have any documentation, but that kind of told me that maybe it was a special piece of jade. Carved as a lotus leaf, the vessel is a brush washer, an essential tool on a Chinese scholar's desk. Water would rest in the basin, allowing brushes to be gently rinsed between strokes. In traditional literati culture, even the most functional tools were expected to embody beauty. Nothing on the scholar's table was meant to be ordinary. The material is celadon nephrite jade, valued for its smooth texture and soft, understated green tone. Unlike flashier jadeite, nephrite communicates refinement through restraint. The carving here is fluid and confident, especially along the edges of the leaf, where veins and contours are clearly articulated without becoming sharp or brittle. Its generous size adds presence, suggesting it was made for a well-appointed study rather than casual use. Symbolism plays a central role. The lotus is deeply embedded in Buddhist thought, representing purity and spiritual clarity, rising clean and untouched from muddy water. That meaning aligns perfectly with the object's function, reinforcing the idea that even mundane actions, like cleaning a brush, could carry philosophical weight. Supporting the washer is a finely carved wooden stand that mirrors the lotus theme with blossoms and seed pods. The wood itself is zaitan, a dense and highly prized Chinese hardwood. The stand doesn't merely elevate the piece physically. It gives the jade visual lightness, allowing shadow and air to become part of the presentation. An added inscription referencing the Qianlong period attempts to lend the object greater age, but the carving quality places it firmly in the mid to late 19th century. Interestingly, that later addition doesn't diminish interest. It adds a layer of historical curiosity. I would say this piece would bring about $5,000 to $7,000 at auction. Really? Great. If it was really 18th century, it would bring probably $30,000 to $40,000. Wow. My wife received it after her grandmother passed away, and I did a little background checking while I was waiting to get out here and found out that it was passed down from her great-grandmother, and that's about as far as I could find the rest of the information on it. Do you know what the material is? We looked at it and always were thinking it was jade. Carved from celadon jade, the stone sits between white and pale green, a tone especially associated with high-quality Chinese jade of the 18th century. That soft coloration, along with faint natural inclusions visible in the stone, helps anchor the piece firmly in its period. Rather than flaws, these subtle variations are signatures of age and authenticity, evidence of material that predates modern treatments and enhancements. The carving itself is remarkably refined. The primary figure is a dragon, a symbol inseparable from power, authority, and protection in Chinese culture. But this is not a solitary creature. Nestled alongside is a smaller dragon, its offspring, creating a narrative of continuity and lineage. In the mouth of the younger dragon is a sprig of Lingzi fungus, a potent symbol of good fortune and longevity. Together, these elements communicate prosperity, generational strength, and enduring life, all expressed through a single functional object. Belt hooks like this were more than ornament. They were worn daily, fastened through fabric loops, and designed to be removed and reattached with ease. Despite their practical role, they were often carved with extraordinary care, especially when intended for individuals of status. This example balances utility and artistry with impressive confidence. While jade belt hooks from this era are known, finely carved examples in Celadon jade are not common. The crisp detailing, harmonious composition, and well-preserved surface elevate this piece beyond the ordinary. Would it surprise you if I told you it's worth about $1,000? That's great. Love it. That's what it is. It's a very nice example, beautifully carved, and not something that we see every day, so I'm really glad that you came in with it. Since a family piece, the stone was originally purchased at the World's Fair in San Francisco Bay at Treasure Island, and then it was set as a ring by Granite Brothers in San Francisco. At its center is a flat-cut jade stone, chosen for presence, not flash. Its color sits in a rich green range that reads as calm and assured, the kind of tone that doesn't rely on translucency alone to make an impression. Stones like this were often purchased loose in the late 1930s, allowing the owner to decide how it would ultimately be worn. The setting completes the story. Crafted in platinum and accented with diamonds, the design is unmistakably art deco, clean lines, symmetry, and restraint. Instead of overwhelming the jade, the setting frames it with architectural clarity. Platinum was the metal of choice for serious jewelry at the time, valued for strength and precision, and here it allows the ring to feel substantial without appearing heavy. What makes this ring especially appealing to collectors today is its timing. Being set in 1938 places the jade safely before the era of modern treatments and enhancements. That matters. Natural jade from this period carries a level of trust that later stones often don't, and demand for untreated examples has risen steadily. The stone shows honest wear. Nothing more than a light polish would restore its surface, proof that it has lived as jewelry, not as a display object. The association with a respected San Francisco jeweler adds another layer, anchoring the ring firmly in American jewelry history at a time when West Coast design was gaining confidence and identity of its own. Do you have any idea how much your parents might have paid for it? I know a journeyman carpenter was working for 35 cents an hour in those days. Okay. Jade is very, very popular right now, and the greener it is, the more value it has. At auction today, an auction is a fair market value. We would probably use an estimate of about $4,000 to $6,000. Oh, my. These pieces were brought by my grandmother from China in the late 1940s when she went to Germany and then subsequently to the United States. That's a picture of my mother and father on their wedding day. That was taken in 1944. The outer frame does its job well. Carved from serpentine, it carries foliate scrolls and animal forms that lean more toward charm than precision. Serpentine is a soft, porous stone prone to inclusions and easy wear, and that character shows here. The carving is serviceable rather than refined, with expressive, almost playful faces that suggest decoration over discipline. Combined with its stained hardwood backing, the frame fits comfortably into the late 19th to early 20th century, a period when such objects were made to please rather than endure. The real weight of history rests inside. Mounted within the frame is an 18th century white jade pendant, and the contrast is immediate. The jade's tone is near pure white, dense and even with minimal inclusions, qualities that define high-grade material. The carving depicts Killin, mythical beasts associated with virtue and protection, arranged in archaic scrollwork that deliberately echoes ancient forms. At the center sits an immortal figure, reinforcing themes of longevity and spiritual balance. On the reverse, traces of script add another layer of meaning, reminding us that jade was as much about ideas as appearance. Originally worn as a pendant, this piece was later adapted, mounted onto a hardwood stand in the late 19th or early 20th century, a common practice as tastes and functions changed. While the carving itself is solid rather than extraordinary, the material and age firmly anchor its importance. The serpentine picture frame, its auction estimate would be between $800 and $1,200. The white jade 18th century pendant at auction would have a pre-sale estimate of $3,000 to $5,000. Oh, wow. I never would have expected that. That's wonderful. I got this set a couple of years ago in Wichita, Kansas, from the estate of a man that apparently worked at the Hong Kong consulate office about late 70s, early 80s, as told to me by the relatives. I've got one, I believe, jade Chinese seal and three soapstone Chinese seals. And do you mind me asking how much you may have paid? About $700 for the set. Lined up together, these seals feel deceptively modest, small, compact, and easily overlooked. But in Chinese culture, seals carried authority far beyond their size. Seals began as symbols of imperial power used to legitimize commands and official documents. Over time, their role expanded. As literacy spread, seals became personal identifiers, part signature, part statement of identity. By the early 20th century, scholars, officials, and collectors all used them, turning even practical tools into miniature works of art. This group reflects that transition perfectly. The stones vary, but each tells a different story through material and carving. Soapstone examples show softer carving and approachable charm, often chosen for everyday use. Their appeal lies in personality rather than prestige. Playful animal forms, lively surfaces, and visible traces of cinnabar paste that hint at real use rather than display-only existence. More refined are the harder stones. One seal carved from agate uses contrasting colors to dramatic effect, allowing animals to emerge in cameo-like relief. That technical choice immediately elevates it, requiring careful planning to exploit natural color layers rather than fight them. Another seal, featuring cicadas, leans into symbolism, renewal, rebirth, and continuity, motifs quietly embedded rather than announced. The most significant piece is the jade seal. Jade was never casual. Even when used for personal seals, it carried connotations of integrity, endurance, and moral character. The carving here is confident and balanced, suggesting it was made not just to function, but to last. Together, these seals date to the early 20th century, a period when collectors valued authenticity and clear dating. That matters today. Buyers want confidence, not mystery. The seal is well carved. The animals are charming. I would think that alone would probably be $1,000 to $1,500. Okay. The agate seal, with the chiming little rats or mice, is carved in a cameo effect with two colors in contrast. That would probably be around $1,500 to $2,000 as well. Oh, wow. This is probably the least interesting, although I think the cicadas are wonderful. I think it's probably worth about $4,000 to $6,000, $5,000 to $8,000 at auction. Okay. And lastly, the jade seal would be around $1,000 to $1,500. Okay. All right. So a really nice object, but I think probably into a contemporary period, 1909, 1920s. Okay. A nice seal, a nice collection overall. I appreciate it. This piece was created at Steuben Glass Works under the direction of Frederick Carter, one of the most influential figures in American art glass. Known as plum jade, the color was developed to echo the richness and depth collectors admired in carved stone, while taking full advantage of what glass could do that jade never could, interact dynamically with light. What truly defines this vase is its construction. It's made using a double acid cutback technique, meaning multiple layers of differently colored glass were applied and then selectively removed using acid to reveal the pattern beneath. This wasn't surface decoration. The design is carved into the glass itself, layer by layer, creating depth that feels almost sculptural. Each curve and recessed area catches light differently, giving the vase a shifting presence as it's viewed from different angles. Dating to around 1928, the piece reflects a period when Steuben was pushing technical boundaries and elevating American glass to compete with the finest decorative arts in the world. Carter's approach favored complexity disguised as simplicity. Forms that feel calm and balanced, but only because extraordinary skill made them so. Unlike mass-produced decorative glass, objects like this were costly to produce and difficult to replicate. That scarcity, combined with Carter's reputation and the technical challenge involved, is what drives demand today. Collectors aren't just buying a beautiful vase. They're buying a benchmark of American glassmaking at its peak. I'd probably get between $6,500 and $7,500. You're kidding. No, I'm not. Oh, my gosh.