When people pick up a Paesina plate, they often ask me whether the marbling is painted on. It isn’t. The pattern is in the clay itself, and it runs right through it. That’s the principle of terre mêlée, or marbled clay, the technique I practise in the studio. In this second article of the notebook, I explain what makes it special, where it comes from, and why everything starts with a good marriage between earthenware clays.
A pattern in the body, not on the surface
Most decorated ceramics are decorated on the surface: with slip, oxide washes or glaze. Marbled clay works the other way round. I layer and mix earthenware clays of different colours, then cut the block into slabs. The design exists before the piece even has a shape.
In very practical terms, this means the pattern doesn’t wear off or fade. Turn a plate over and look at its edge: the coloured veins are there too. That’s what gives marbled clay its depth, a little like a stone that has been cut open.
A very old technique
Mixing clays of different colours is a very old practice, known by different names from one country to another.
- In China, marbled ceramics were already being made under the Tang dynasty, around the 7th century.
- In Japan, it is called nerikomi. Marbled pieces were made there from the Momoyama and Edo periods, between the late 16th and the 19th century.
- In England, in Staffordshire, it is known as agateware. Around 1740, the potter Thomas Whieldon refined the technique by colouring white clays with metal oxides to imitate agate and onyx.
- In France, it goes by “terre mêlée”, “terres marbrées” or “terres jaspées”. It has been produced in Apt, and in Vallauris at the Gerbino workshop.
I love the idea of being part of this long history, which spans continents and centuries. Every era has made something different of marbled clay; Paesina is my version of it, for today’s table.
Marrying earthenware clays: it all happens before the first gesture
If I talk about “marrying” clays, it’s because not all clays get along. Clay shrinks as it dries, then again in the kiln. If two clays joined together don’t shrink at the same rate, they pull in different directions: the piece cracks along the veins, sometimes days after shaping, sometimes only when it comes out of the kiln.
The clays I combine therefore have to be compatible:
- the same shrinkage, so that they dry and fire together without separating;
- the same firing temperature, since all the colours go into the same kiln;
- the same moisture level when they are assembled, so that they bond well to each other.
That’s why I work with earthenware, a single family of clays that fire at low temperatures. They give me bright colours and a crisp design. The differences between earthenware, stoneware and porcelain will be the subject of a future article.
The gesture: composing without deciding everything
Once the clays are ready, I layer them, fold them, cut them again and reassemble them. Each gesture transforms the pattern: a few passes give wide bands of colour, more passes give fine, tight veins. I can steer the design and choose the proportion of each colour, but I never control everything.
Terracotta blend, unfired clays, in the studio
It’s this element of chance that I love. When I slice through the block, I discover a landscape I haven’t quite drawn. As in the image stones that gave Paesina its name, part of the pattern belongs to the material.
This work also takes a lot of patience. The pieces dry slowly, under close watch, so that the clays don’t separate. And the pattern stays slightly veiled until a final step, sanding, reveals it. I’ll tell you about that step, and about the whole making of a Garance plate, in upcoming articles of the notebook.
A signature for every piece
Because the pattern is born from the mix, no two pieces are ever the same, even within a single set. The studio’s four clay blends, Riviera, Riviera Bianca, Terracotta and Opera, each keep the same palette, but every plate draws its own landscape. That’s what lets you add to your set over time, or replace a broken piece, without ever having the same one twice.
If you have a question about the technique, get in touch: your questions feed into future articles.