Benoit Pouplard

Walk in the celadon's country, blues remind the water, the ice, the sky...

You see them these polar areas, the ice floe made of foams, ice where sometimes the air is imprisoned? Air bubbles enclosed... Everything brings us back to our environment, to our planet earth, in our blue planet...

The enamel is put down in fine or thick layers, It's the shape of the piece that guides, indicates the procedure, Then it's the interaction between celadon enamels and whiteness of the porcelain... Under every Benoit Pouplard's creation hides, shelters, conceals itself an imprint, The mark of this residual track buried in our core: the labyrinth.

More information on www.benoitpouplard.com