French Coffee Bowls

Here at Emilia Ceramics, we talk a lot about our pieces being individually handmade instead of coming off a mechanized factory-line. And I guess it’s just assumed that the label “handmade” means that a piece is special and should be valued accordingly. But why is that really? What makes handmade better, more special, and more valuable?

It’s the hands. They are not just hands after all, but the hands of creative and artistically-gifted people, who often come from a long line of artists and a culture known for its traditional artistry.

After a week of visiting, watching, and appreciating the work of local artists throughout Provence, I have been reminded that it really is the people, the artists, and their lives that give value to handmade ceramics. Here are two great examples:

Sylvie Duriez (throwing a pitcher in the photo here) was taught to throw pottery by her mother, who in turn had learned it from her father. Sylvie is famous in her small town for turning out one-of-a-kind plates, pitchers, and bowls that are expertly crafted and finished in her own unique style. She does the complete process herself: throwing and firing the clay, decorating it with fine lines and then painting it with a water-color-like fluidity. Her style is ever-evolving and she loves to play around with new techniques. What ties her work together is that each of her ceramic pieces is a product of Sylvie herself, as a daughter, mother, artist, and friend. They are original expressions of her life and her experiences, shaped into a plate, bowl, or pitcher with her own hands.

When you spend a little time with Richard Esteban (left), here’s what you learn: He is a playful father of three, a devoted husband, and an excellent cook. He loves to joke around, poke fun at his family and friends, and share good wine with guests. He has practically adopted Arnaud, a young artist who grew up without a father, married young and has two children he loves to brag about. He has worked as a sort of “apprentice” to Richard for the last 15 years. Then there’s Katia, who’s equally part of the family. She’s the godmother of Richard’s oldest child and has worked for him for 20 years. She manages the shop and helps decorate platters with intricate little designs — all with a smile and a cigarette!

It’s easy to appreciate the irresistible charm of Richard’s polka-dot bowls and rustic French pitchers. What’s more difficult is remembering what gives them that charm, that Provencial authenticity, that je ne sais quoi. It’s Richard himself. And Arnaud. And Katia. It’s their individual backgrounds and creative inspirations, their sensibilities and their experiences. Through their hands, each piece receives a touch of their personality, charm, warmth, and love.

And that’s the value of handmade. It’s visible in the finished product because of the people creating it. Their hands mold the clay, but their experiences and lives affect it as well. They craft each ceramic piece with love and attention, which we are then fortunate enough to enjoy on our tables, in our homes, over our family dinners and parties with friends. It is a transfer of one life to another which can only happen through human hands.

Now that I’m home from France I recognize that the importance of my buying trip was much more than just the “buying” I did. I am reminded yet again of the value of the handmade ceramics in my collection. It goes beyond a beautifully crafted vase, a functional bowl, or a perfectly glazed platter, to the story behind that piece. The artist, their life, family and history is what really gives it value.