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About Me

My journey with clay began far from any institution. It began in silence, in observation, in the slow rhythm of hands repeating ancient gestures. I’ve always followed a path off the beaten track—guided by instinct, encounters, and the pull of distant places.

In the early nineties, I immersed myself in the intimate world of Japanese craftsmanship. These weren’t formal studies, but a quiet apprenticeship—watching, feeling, absorbing the essence of making. I wasn’t just learning techniques; I was receiving a way of being.

Then came Quebec, where I trained under Kinya Ishikawa. There, I dove into porcelain—its precision, its demands—and explored gas kilns, overglaze decoration, and even built my first wood-fired kiln. Alongside the technical training, I taught ceramic arts to autistic children. That experience shaped me just as deeply as clay ever did.
 

From 1995 to 1999, I chose isolation over distraction. I created a retreat in a remote valley of New Caledonia, in the South Pacific—a place where nature stripped everything down to the essential. There, I built an open-air studio, surrounded by wind and earth. I worked with the local communities, shared knowledge at the Nouméa School of Art, and collaborated with cultural centers and museums to research and revive traditional Kanak ceramics. My pieces lived not only in galleries, but in the everyday rhythm of the local market, in group shows across Australia, and in ceremonial demonstrations at the Jean-Marie Tjibaou Cultural Center.

Later, I returned to a more structured practice. From 1999 to 2002, I founded a production studio with its own porcelain wheel-throwing school. I taught, exhibited twice a year, and deepened my commitment to sharing knowledge. It was a time of transmission as much as creation.

In 2002, I returned to France and settled in La Borne—a historic village known for its wood-fired kilns. There, I built a large anagama-style kiln, then a hybrid one to explore the combustion of water in ceramic firings. This became a long exploration: fire, air, water, clay—how each element transforms the other. I also built a gas kiln to study medium and high-temperature firings using water vapor as a reactive element.

For fifteen years, La Borne was my home and laboratory. I taught, exhibited widely, and took part in Franco-Japanese exchanges, as well as exhibitions in Korea and across Europe. My studio became a place of tea, of silence, of fire and dialogue—where visitors could encounter both ceramic forms and the stories they held.

Since 2017, my studio has taken root in Sweden, on land shaped by silence and granite. I built a new hybrid kiln—wood-fired, with water combustion—continuing my exploration of how flame and steam speak through clay. Alongside it, I developed a modern workspace with an electric kiln and a research kiln designed for charcoal and water-based combustion.

Here, I created not just a workshop, but a space for reflection and sharing—a place where tea is served, where objects are handled slowly, where the body can pause. I exhibit permanently at the studio, and my work travels to teahouses in France, Germany, Belgium, the Czech Republic, and even London. It’s also found a place in Taiwan, where the culture of tea and ceramics meet with quiet reverence.

Each step of this journey has been guided by intuition, elemental connection, and the deep need to live in rhythm with the material. Clay is not my medium—it is my companion.