From the tea bench to the glassblower
Gao Liuzhou has spent decades tasting teas across China, and he has long noticed a quiet tragedy: beautiful, light-sensitive teas fading on countertops under harsh light. The 400ml amber jar began as a conversation between Gao and a family-run glass workshop in Shandong that had been producing pharmaceutical bottles for generations. Together they tested tint densities until they found an amber that cut UV transmission by over 90% without darkening the jar’s warm glow.
The wooden lid came later, after Gao visited a woodturner in Yunnan who worked with reclaimed beech from old tea warehouses. Each lid is turned to fit precisely, with a food-grade silicone gasket that seals gently. The size — 400ml — was chosen to hold roughly a two-week supply of tea, the amount Gao himself keeps at hand.
The jar is not meant for years of aging, but for the rhythm of the present: a vessel that preserves the bright notes of a Mí Lán Xiāng or the delicate umami of a spring Longjing until the last scoop. It is a small act of respect for the leaf, designed by a tea master who believes that the container matters as much as the water.