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Richard Jurquet © Poterie D'Anduze

 

Boisset Pottery traces its roots back to 1610, when it first produced everyday utilitarian wares. For four generations, the craft has been passed from mother to daughter. Richard Jurquet, father of the latest heir, takes us on a journey through the workshops and quarries of the oldest pottery in Anduze, where the Enfants de Boisset continue the work of their ancestors.

Boisset Pottery traces its roots back to around 1610, when it first produced everyday utilitarian wares. By the mid-18th century, legend tells of a Cévenol potter who traveled to the great Beaucaire fair, then a bustling crossroads between the plains and the Cévennes. He was captivated by the elegance of the Medici vases and the lavish decorations of the Florentine vases.

Upon his return, he felt inspired to create a model of his own. The Cévenol spirit and rigor gave birth to a sturdier, more rustic vase. He adorned it with a garland and crest: the Boisset vase was born. Majestic in scale, these vases were used to plant orange and lemon trees, gracing the gardens of Louis XIV's courtiers.

For four generations, the craft has been passed down from mother to daughter. Richard Jurquet, father of the latest heir, takes us on a journey through the workshops and quarries of the oldest pottery in Anduze, where the Enfants de Boisset continue the work of their ancestors.

 

Lily with Polou, 1941. © Poterie d’Anduze

 

How did you begin?

The story is quite simple. Over 46 years ago, I met a young woman whose father was one of the most respected potters in the region. I began working in her family’s workshop, and it was a revelation—an instant fascination, almost like a magic trick. To work clay, this primal, silent, inert matter, and transform it through a kind of alchemy. It touched me so deeply that it changed the course of my life. Learning the technique has been a lifelong project for me – but today, young people rarely accept the idea of a long apprenticeship. Learning the wheel alone takes at least three years. Even now, at my age, I keep learning. That is the wonder of ceramics: one never finishes, one never exhausts the craft.

How did you learn?

The grandfather of that young woman—who later became my wife—taught me everything. We had a beautiful bond. When you leave school, you think you have knowledge of the craft, but you don’t know how to put it into practice. You learn a lot by working and by observing others. Today’s kilns are computerized; mastering them requires highly specialized technical knowledge.

In earlier times, the approach was empirical—you learned by watching, by listening. Chemistry was hidden behind intuition. Old workshops guarded their secrets… whereas today, the formulas are precise, and there are no secrets left.

 

 

How do you plan, prepare and create your works?

We are fortunate to own our own clay quarries. From this raw material, extracted each summer, we produce 400 tons a year. The clay is dried in a shed, then prepared, purified, and transformed into ceramic paste. It is stored in blocks that can be kept for months until they are ready to be shaped in the workshop. In summer, when the air is very dry, we must work quickly, producing vases as we go, for the clay blocks dry too fast.

The very idea of creativity is modern. We belong to the slow time of tradition, which escapes the pressure of creative performance. Repeat, repeat again, repeat endlessly—like a form of prayer.

 

 

What does a typical day look like?

From Monday to Wednesday, we shape the clay into vases. On Thursday, we decorate and glaze them. Friday is for firing—a full day in the kiln. The following two days, the pieces rest and cool. And on Monday, the kiln is opened.

Who or what most influences your work?

The weight, and the strength, of our ancestors.

One more thing... What would your profession be if you weren’t a ceramist?

It hardly matters. What counts is the following path: my daughter, highly educated and immersed in the digital world, after much wandering, returned to working with raw material, continuing the transmission of knowledge. I see in this a form of beauty, a form of light. I am no longer pessimistic.

Interview by Camilla Ginevra Bonuglia 

Images from Camilla Ginevra Bonuglia and Poterie D'Anduze

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