WEEK 2
collecting inspiration

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This week has been about listening and observing more than doing — which, in a way, is the best thing I could ask for to detach from my usual workflow and enter a more inspired mood to start tackling my project for the upcoming exibition.

I started attending a Tuesday class at Tainan National University of the Arts: laoshi Chang’s course on functional throwing. Watching his demo was a real reminder of how much skill and grace can fit into a single gesture and how much knowledge and personality can fit a very functional piece we use daily. I feel extremely lucky for his kindness - these classes are not always open to visitors, but laoshi is just so kind.

Later in the week, I joined an artist demo with Kouzo Takeuchi, Sayaka Shingu, Aya Murata, and Chung Wenting — a wonderful curator and artist herself, Taiwanese but based in Tokyo. Together we also visited Jing Clay Formosa, where yet another wood kiln is currently under construction, surrounded by the stunning nature of inner Taiwan - and its Mangoes.
Needless to say how much exposure to art and artists is the best way to cultivate creativity. I get so much of that around here.

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As for myself: I did actively make something too, between a show and the other, but my core project is still in a very early stage. 

In my head, shapes and ideas are slowly taking form — I’m captivating as much inspiration as I can, and I’m not ready to share too much just yet. The tea ash glaze experiment keeps growing — slowly but steadily — thanks to the generosity of the local community who keeps handing me their used tea leaves. There’s a lot on paper, very little that’s tangible yet, and I’m completely fine with that.

To keep my hands busy (and dirty), I’ve been throwing a few pasta bowls for a special lunch we’ll host next Saturday: orecchiette and tiramisù. A little leap back into my previous life as a chef — and a lovely excuse to bring a taste of home into this new chapter.
Of course, as it is now a tradition for me: I jumped in a rush to make bowls od day 1, and day 2 was trimming and slowly growing conciousness of me not liking them enough to fire them - so they just became reclaimed clay (I love the forgiving essence of my medium) and today I'm writing this at 12.00 AM after finishing a much better batch. You will see them nicely served at Chin Chin Table next week.


See you next week for updates on the teaware project, a tea farm visit and this Italian lunch in Tainan!

WEEK 1
arrival and beginning

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I’ve been in Tainan for just a week, and settling in has been surprisingly easy. People here are genuinely kind, generous, and welcoming — how could it be difficult at all?

Chin Chin already feels like home. In just five days, I’ve met more artists and colleagues than I did in five years in Milan. I feel this will be a deeply nourishing experience, and I’m profoundly grateful for it — ready to embrace every moment.

But let’s get to the heart of the project: I’m here to take a break from the frantic Milanese life and to broaden my pottery practice by exploring the architecture of the teapot — and hopefully finding ways to incorporate actual local tea into the making of the pot.

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Taiwan has long been a meeting point of many Eastern cultures, and this blend — refined over centuries — has created a deeply rooted and unique tea tradition. So here I am, absorbing and interpreting as much knowledge as I possibly can.

This first week, I started two parallel studies: form and finish.

To explore shapes, I’ve been diving into the mechanisms, proportions, and techniques of the most traditional teapots used here — mostly close to the well-known Yixing teapots (purple clay teapots from Yixing, China). My goal is to fully understand the fundamental rules so that, later, I can play with them and reinterpret their language.
In practice: lots of very, very focused throwing and building of experimental teapots — or at least the very beginning of it!

Alongside this formal research, I’m giving used tea leaves a try, turning them into ashes. The use of ash glazes dates back to 1500 BC in China and, like many beautiful things, it started by accident. Over time, this practice has been studied, refined, and mastered by potters all over the world.

My wish here is to create a truly site-specific finish, telling a story deeply connected to this place — both geographically and culturally — through its tea. It’s also an upcycling tale and a testament to community effort.
Why so?
To make even a small bucket of glaze and be able to run meaningful tests, I need about 300 g of ashes. To get that amount, I’ll need to burn around 5 kg of dry tea leaves.
This week we brewed plenty of tea but managed to collect only 280 g so far. So, we started spreading the word — and once again Taiwanese people proved to be the best: everyone I met has begun collecting their own leaves and even asked friends to do the same.
I’m planning to tour around Tainan soon to pick up all these generous donations!

I know it’s a long shot, but one I couldn’t resist taking.


This upcoming week already feels like a journey: I’ll attend a university class about tea ware (still can’t believe it), a group of Japanese potters will be visiting Chin Chin, a beautiful tea room is opening its doors for us, and maybe I’ll even visit a tea farm in the countryside.

Come back next Sunday to read all about it!