David Louveau de La Guigneraye
Hakuji




About me
My journey with clay began far from any institution.
It took root in silence.
In observation.
In the slow rhythm of hands repeating ancient gestures.
I have always followed a path off the beaten track,
guided by instinct,
by encounters,
and by the pull of distant lands.
In the early 1990s,
I immersed myself in the intimate world of Japanese craftsmanship.
It was not a formal education —
but a silent apprenticeship:
to observe,
to feel,
to absorb the essence of the gesture.
I wasn’t just learning techniques.
I was learning a way of being.
Then came Québec.
There, I worked alongside Kinya Ishikawa.
That’s where porcelain seized me —
its precision,
its demands,
its light.
I explored gas firing,
overglaze decoration,
and built my first wood-fired kiln.
In parallel, I taught ceramics to autistic children —
an experience as deeply transformative as the clay itself.
From 1995 to 1999,
I chose solitude.
A remote valley in New Caledonia became my refuge.
Surrounded by wind, rain, and earth,
I built an open-air studio.
I worked with local communities,
taught at the Nouméa School of Art,
and collaborated with museums to help revive traditional Kanak ceramics.
My pieces lived in galleries,
but also in markets,
in hands.
They travelled across Australia,
and were part of ceremonial demonstrations
at the Jean-Marie Tjibaou Cultural Centre.
Returning to a more structured practice,
I founded a production studio between 1999 and 2002,
with its own porcelain throwing school.
I taught,
I exhibited twice a year,
and I shared what moved through me.
In 2002, I returned to France,
to La Borne — a village of fire, ash, and living earth.
There, I built an anagama kiln,
then a hybrid kiln to explore the combustion of water.
Fire, air, water, clay…
each element transforming the other.
I also built a gas kiln
to explore mid- and high-temperature firings
where steam becomes an active force.
For fifteen years,
La Borne was my home and my laboratory.
I taught, I exhibited,
took part in Franco-Japanese exchanges,
and participated in exhibitions in Korea and throughout Europe.
My studio became a place of tea,
of silence,
of fire and dialogue.
A space where forms could tell their stories.
Since 2017,
I have lived and worked in Sweden,
on a land shaped by granite and silence.
There, I built a new hybrid kiln,
fueled by wood and steam,
continuing my research into the subtle transformation of clay.
I also developed a modern workspace
with an electric kiln
and a research kiln built for charcoal and water combustion.
Here, I have created a space for listening.
A place where tea is served,
where gestures slow down,
where one can simply pause.
I exhibit continuously in my studio,
and my work travels —
to France, Germany, Belgium, London,
and to Taiwan,
where tea and ceramics share a reverent silence.
At every step,
intuition has guided me.
The elements.
The deep need to live in harmony with matter.
Clay is not my medium.
She is my companion.
