A house of two glazes, and one standard.

The Kaolin shopfront on a stone street, the blade sign out over the pavement and the ware lit on plinths behind the glass

Kaolin makes stoneware to a single standard, in two glazes and ten pieces, and holds there on purpose. Each piece is turned, glazed and fired by hand and thrown only against the next kiln — the same clay, the same cone, shown under a satin grey or left bare and warm to the hand. The range does not grow: a wider one would be a quieter one, and the standard is the whole argument.

The Kaolin showroom interior — pieces along travertine shelves in daylightA Kaolin carrier bag beside a stack of plates in both glazes, in low raking sun

What we hold to.

Same clay, same kiln, same cone. The only variable is how far the glaze was taken.

Made to order
Nothing sits on a shelf. Each piece is thrown against the next firing, so the ware you buy is the ware just made.
Thrown, never pressed
Turned on the wheel by hand — no mould, no line — so no two pieces come out exactly alike.
Cone 10, in reduction
One clay, one cone, one fourteen-hour firing in an oxygen-starved kiln — the same for every piece.
Ten pieces, no eleventh
The range stops at ten because that is where the standard holds. A wider catalogue would be a quieter one.
Every firing logged
Clay, glaze, cone and kiln, recorded and dated — the card travels in the box, so a piece reads back to its firing.
A finished bowl on a travertine pedestal in soft window light

Kounds

All of this was generated. The work was making it agree with itself.

KAOLIN is not a shop. There is no studio in Hannover and no kiln — the brand, the photographs, the ware and every word of it were made for this piece.

Generating pages is the easy half. The work is in making them hold together: one voice across every surface, figures that stay the same wherever they appear, and controls that behave the same way wherever you meet them. That is the part we build for shops that are real.

What we build