Asia is on the rise, and its presence is making itself felt in the art market as never before. The question haunting professionals is how long buyers of Asian art can remain indifferent to the financial earthquake shaking the world economies. As this issue went to press, there was no sign that their enthusiasm was abating. The very opposite, in fact, was demonstrated during the New York Asia Week in March.

Chinese bidders were if anything bolder than they were last fall. Furious competition among dealers and collectors continued to raise the prices of the lowest-grade goods as well as those deemed most desirable—an unmistakable sign of a real boom.

This was crystal clear at the Sotheby’s sale of Chinese art on March 18. The third lot, a small jade pebble wrought into a mountainous landscape, dating from the Qing Dynasty, nearly quadrupled its high estimate, making $43,000. The delightful handling of the pine tree set against a steep mountainside and the skillful use of the russet veins of the stone to frame the scenery justified the frenzy the piece triggered among Chinese bidders. But the jade figure of the mythical feline called Qilin that followed, unlikely to be of considerable age, hardly warranted the $25,000 it brought, almost tripling the high estimate.

With rare exceptions, the jades continued to energize the room, regardless of style or period. A white-jade bowl in the Mughal manner, whose appearance suggested a more recent date of creation than the Qianlong period (1736–95) to which it was attributed, nevertheless realized an astonishing $157,000.

It was not just jade that excited the Chinese bidders. All the objects that matched received ideas of what is desirable in the Mandarin tradition were rapturously received. An 18th-century bamboo carving of the Immortal Liu Hai laughing his head off, expected to bring $7,000 to $9,000, made $37,000. Whether the figure fetched this surprising price because its subject is the god of wealth or because its wood box points to a Japanese provenance, thus giving buyers the feeling that they were recovering a piece of their ancient heritage from their old enemy, is anybody’s guess.

The psychological hold of symbols over Chinese collectors was evident in the performance of another bamboo carving, which represented a boat carrying the Eight Taoist Immortals. Instead of riding clouds they decided to trust themselves to their supernatural powers and brave the tempestuous sea after attending a festival. The message of the allegory is that by pooling individual strengths, the biggest obstacles can be overcome. While Sotheby’s prudently dated the piece within the “Qing Dynasty, 18th/19th century,” connoisseurs doubted that it had been made much earlier than the 20th century. That day, however, the power of the Eight Immortals proved priceless, and the boat glided to a phenomenal $217,000.

For those who remain faithful to the tradition of the Mandarin literati, the Song period (960–1279) is the golden age of art, and porcelain is its supreme achievement. Failing examples of sublime Song porcelain, Sotheby’s offered two vessels that associated the mottled glazes of Jun ware with the heavier potting of the Ming period. A late 14th-century dish with low incurving sides, a ravishing purple glaze outside and turquoise inside, drove the Chinese nuts. It ended up at $869,800, more than doubling the experts’ estimate. There followed another bowl of the same shape, with a mottled blue glaze, which the Hong Kong dealer William Chak, who had bowed out of the previous contest, won for a staggering $825,000.

Had Sotheby’s not been desperate to fill its catalogue, the session would have ended in triumph. Sadly, many objects raised questions regarding period or quality. Even more sadly, four breathtakingly beautiful masterpieces that the house had prized out of a Taiwanese collection had gigantic reserves, judging from the estimates, the highest of which was $8 million to $9 million. This left them no earthly chance to make it. Thus did four admirable bronze vessels of the Western Zhou period, cast around the 10th century b.c., fall unwanted, one after the other.