CRAFT STORIES | ASIA | THAILAND | PORCELAIN
The Story of Benjarong Porcelain

In Ban Don Kai Dee, a quiet village whose every house seems to hold a secret fire, the final community of royal porcelain painters continues a 200-year tradition of Thai court craftsmanship. These master craftspeople all work by hand, color by color, in the country’s only surviving Benjarong workshops.
In Samut Sakhon, about an hour from Bangkok, lies Ban Don Kai Dee, a quiet village whose every house seems to hold a secret fire. Inside, men and women sit over porcelain, painting with brushes no wider than a grain of rice. The craft they guard is Benjarong, Thailand’s royal porcelain once reserved for palaces, now kept alive only here. Each vessel begins white and plain, formed from fine clay. Over days, color by color, line by line, the surface fills with blossoms, flames, and mythical creatures.
The word Benjarong means “five colors,” but the palette has expanded into dozens, each layered and fired separately. Gold outlines the design, its gleam recalling the age when this porcelain adorned the tables of Siamese kings. The tradition came from China centuries ago, refined in the court of Ayutthaya, and later perfected for royal households in Bangkok.

When factories elsewhere closed, Don Kai Dee endured. Families here founded a cooperative, sharing kilns and passing skills from parent to child. Every pattern follows the old codes balance, symmetry, and auspicious geometry but each hand leaves its own rhythm.
Training is long. Apprentices begin by filling outlines and cleaning tools before advancing to pattern work. Master painters oversee quality and sign the base of each approved piece. Kilns operate daily, and the heat cycles follow precise timing known only through experience.
Today, Ban Don Kai Dee is regarded as the last working Benjarong village in Thailand. Its artisans still paint for the royal household, temples, and collectors who understand the discipline behind the beauty.

The number of full-time painters is estimated to be fewer than fifty. Government support exists through the OTOP program, yet survival still relies on private buyers and cultural preservation grants. Benjarong’s future remains tied to this single community.
If production here stops, the lineage of technique and pattern continuity may end with it. Ban Don Kai Dee stands as both workshop and archive where the country’s most formal ceramic art continues through skill, repetition, and memory.
Words and Images by Harrison Thane