Making a Ceramic Cup: A Story of Gestures
There are several ways to start making a ceramic cup. Some people work on the wheel, others use molds to go faster. For my part, I chose the slab method.
It’s a freer, more intuitive technique. It allows for small variations, traces of the hand, that lively quality I love to find in each piece. Nothing is fixed, nothing is completely identical. And that’s precisely where it all comes together.
In my workshop, every cup begins the same way: a mass of clay, still raw, still full of possibilities.
Preparing the Clay Slab
To start making a ceramic cup, I begin by passing the clay through a slab roller. It’s a simple, yet essential machine that allows me to obtain a large, even slab.
The movement is almost mechanical, but my gaze remains attentive. The thickness must be just right: neither too thin nor too thick. It’s a balance I adjust almost by feel, with practice.
Once the slab is ready, I don’t touch anything else. This is an often invisible, but fundamental step. I wait.
The clay slowly evolves. It dries, hardens, changes texture. And then comes that precise moment: the leather-hard consistency. It’s a somewhat magical instant when the clay becomes perfect for working.
It no longer sticks to the fingers, but it remains flexible. It still accepts being formed without resistance. If I work it too early, it deforms. Too late, it breaks. You have to hit the right moment.
Cutting the Shapes at the Right Time
When the clay is ready, I move on to cutting.
I use templates, which I place directly on the slab. It’s a simple, but very precise gesture. Each cut shape will be the starting point of the cup.
Flat cutting has something very graphic about it. The pieces appear one by one, as if they were already there, hidden in the slab.
It’s also a moment where I deliberately slow down. A poorly made cut will inevitably show later. Here, I’m preparing for what’s next.
Giving Volume to the Cup
Once the shapes are cut, I give them volume. This is a step I particularly enjoy.
I take each slab and gently curve it. No sudden movements. The clay must follow, not be forced. It retains a memory, and if you force it, it shows.
To achieve a regular shape, I work around a cylinder. It guides the curve, allowing for that simple and balanced silhouette.
In parallel, I prepare the bases of the cups. I shape them separately, then I apply the Grandchose seal. It’s a small, almost discreet imprint, but it’s part of every piece.
At this point, the cup truly begins to exist.
Assembling and Solidifying the Piece
Assembly is undoubtedly the most delicate step in making a ceramic cup.
I connect the different parts with slip, a liquid clay paste made from the same clay. This is what will allow the piece to become solid, as if it had always been a single block.
I work with simple gestures: pressing, smoothing, adjusting. The wooden spatula is my main tool here.
You have to find the right balance: press firmly enough to join, but without deforming. It’s a work of precision, but also of feel.
Thanks to the leather-hard consistency, the clay accepts this assembly without losing its shape. This is what allows for a stable cup, free of tension.
Refining with Trimming
Once the cup is assembled, I move on to trimming.
This is a somewhat distinct step, where I use the wheel, not to shape the piece, but to refine it.
I remove excess material, soften the lines, balance the proportions. I mainly work on the edges and the base to give a cleaner finish.
It’s a calmer, almost meditative moment. It’s all about the details. About adjustment.
It’s often here that the cup finds its true presence.
Drying Time
Once the cups are finished, they need to dry.
This is an unseen but essential step in making a ceramic cup.
The clay must lose its moisture slowly. Too fast, it cracks. Not enough, it remains fragile.
In the workshop, I monitor without intervening. I sometimes adjust the environment, but mostly I let time do its work.
This phase requires patience. And in an artisanal process, patience is part of the result.
Slab Method or Wheel Throwing: Two Different Approaches
People often ask me why I don’t use the wheel to make my cups.
Wheel throwing produces very regular, very symmetrical pieces. It’s an impressive technique, almost mesmerizing to watch. But it also results in a smoother, more standardized finish.
With the slab method, the result is different.
The lines are a little freer, the shapes slightly unique. You might see a variation, a detail that changes from one piece to another. This isn’t a flaw; it’s precisely the appeal.
This is what gives it that handmade look, that lively character.
I’m not looking for industrial perfection. I’m looking for a form that is just right, balanced, but with a presence. A cup that has something extra, without necessarily being able to explain it.
More Than Just a Cup
Ultimately, making a ceramic cup isn’t just a series of steps.
It’s an accumulation of small choices, repeated gestures, and attention paid to every detail.
Each cup that emerges from this first shaping phase is already unique. But it’s not yet finished. It still needs to undergo a first firing, then receive its decoration with pencil or brush, be glazed, and finally be fired a second time.
It’s only at the end of this entire process that the piece becomes complete.
And that’s exactly what I want to convey.
A simple, everyday object, but one that carries within it time, material… and a whole series of invisible steps that give it its character.
