Jingdezhen's porcelain masters pass on a 2,000-year legacy

In Jingdezhen, a city in China's Jiangxi province, porcelain artist Chen Qing recalls the only occasion her grandfather committed her family's distinctive red pigment formula to paper. He had her mother memorise it, then burned the page within minutes. The recipe has passed orally between generations ever since, and Chen herself did not learn it until she was past 30.

Her family has worked the craft since around 1860 in Jingdezhen, known as China's "Porcelain Capital," about 1,180 kilometres southeast of Beijing. Pottery-making there stretches back more than 2,000 years, beginning in the Han Dynasty, and its porcelain sites were added to UNESCO's World Heritage List in 2026.

Craftsmen in the city have preserved techniques once reserved for the imperial court, knowledge that later reached private artisans. Chen's ancestors took up some of those traditions after the Qing Dynasty fell in 1912. "The craft is very difficult for an outsider to master," she said. "A family might spend nearly a century developing a single technique."

In her studio, two tables hold brushes, unfinished pieces and pigments. She paints in silence, never letting her fingers touch the porcelain surface; instead she steadies her hand against the outer edge. A single teacup can take days, and one speck of dust or sweat can force her to begin again. Landscapes pose the hardest challenge, she said, because their boundaries are indistinct, with colours shifting gradually down a slope. "Mastering a craft is a lifelong process," Chen said. "Few people are willing to spend more than 10 years learning such a painstaking craft."

Artists like Chen work alongside archaeological sites and museums to safeguard this heritage. The Imperial Kiln Institute studies and restores ceramics unearthed from an adjacent complex where imperial pieces were once fired in kilns whose remains are still visible. The institute is also applying new technologies, including artificial intelligence, to match and rebuild ancient fragments.

"By the establishment of our ceramic gene bank, we can collect all kinds of information," said institute president Weng Yanjun. "We hope that we can retrieve ancient technology with modern science." Such research can also illuminate the beliefs surrounding porcelain-making centuries ago. Among tiles produced at the imperial kilns were those used in the Bao'en Pagoda, part of a Buddhist temple complex destroyed during a 19th-century rebellion in Nanjing; its exterior walls bore porcelain tiles each showing the Buddha. Weng said traces of other faiths appear in the porcelain the institute studies. "Islam, Buddhism, Taoism and, later on, European Catholic Christianity harmoniously blend into the porcelain decorations," he said.

Within the imperial kiln complex stands a shrine to Tong Bin, the protective spirit of ceramics, revered during the Qing dynasty for sacrificing himself in protest against the abuse of kiln workers. The shrine remains open, with a statue of Tong alongside figures representing other traditional roles. "In ancient times, the technology was not as advanced as it is today, so, in many cases, people had to rely on their beliefs — their gods — to help bring good luck and better results," Weng said.

Some craftsmen say they hold no particular beliefs tied to the craft, while others keep figures of Budai, the laughing Buddha, in their workshops for good fortune. For master Sun Lixin, a fourth-generation practitioner who learned from his father at 13, the work retains a spiritual dimension. "Some traditional rituals have faded considerably," he said. "Yet in the hearts of craftspeople, that reverence remains." He does not visit the shrine but instinctively bows to the Kiln God before a firing. "If we do not care for it, paint it with devotion and treasure it, how could we possibly do it justice?"

While the craft continues to pass down within families, universities and residency programmes now host new generations of Chinese and international practitioners. Italian ceramic artist Paola Masi, in a residency through October, said Song dynasty porcelain shaped her early training, making Jingdezhen feel like a return to the roots of her artistic path. Chinese artist Huang Qi, who graduated from Jingdezhen Ceramic University in 2015 and later returned as an artist-in-residence, said the city is where her dream began. Meeting fellow craftspeople has helped her learn new techniques, and the UNESCO listing leaves her optimistic. "It gives us confidence," she said. "Things will continue to get better."