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At the bottom of a cottage garden in Dorset, down winding paths and under the low branches of trees, sits a small wooden studio clad in reclaimed tin. Drawings, books and collected ephemera line the walls, and flowers dried in the summer heat hang from an old ladder leaning against the beams. Gazing out of the window, you can spot deer up the coombe, herons by the nearby stream and buzzards circling overhead. This is where Rose Jenkins shapes the handmade ceramics we are so proud to have at Sorbet Living.
“The serenity this environment brings is palpable,” she says. When the family moved to the old cottage, there was a large chicken shed at the end of the garden, and Rose knew at first sight it could become her studio. Today it is a space designed and built by a friend, tucked gently into the countryside so that it feels as though it has always been there.
A Life of Making
Making has always been part of Rose’s life. Her parents nurtured her creativity, and her grandparents encouraged her to draw, sew, garden and cook, creating an atmosphere of home that she loves to recreate through her pottery: “A sense of calm, taking time to appreciate details, and of seasonal and daily ritual, “ she says.
After years as a textile designer and an art teacher, Rose turned her attention to clay, drawing on her own home and garden, a growing collection of studio pottery and visits to potters in their studios. Every piece is hand built; coiled, pinched or rolled into slabs and shaped into vessels, sometimes using moulds she has made, or even old china she has collected or inherited, to form the first shape.
“Every stage of the process takes time and cannot be rushed,” she explains. “Life can feel so rushed, but working with clay brings me peace and balance, feelings that I hope come through when the pieces are held and used.”
From Dew to Dark Skies
With the studio at home, Rose often works early in the morning or late at night, and the short walk down the garden has become part of her creative ritual. Dew on her shoes and birds overhead at dawn, and the sun rising after a few hours of making – it’s like a sensory ‘commute’ to work, and a stroll that changes subtly throughout the weeks and months. In summer she works outside, though every season in the landscape, she says, brings its own beauty. And nighttime comes with its own inspiration; Rose’s cottage sits in a dark sky reserve and on late evenings the sky above is dazzling with stars.
We talked to Rose to find out more about where her ideas come from, how a piece takes shape and what makes a home feel meaningful.
Your work draws on classical forms, nature and the poetry of everyday life. Where do these influences come from?
“I visit museums, historic houses and churches, and I’m always noticing details. It could be the shape of a piece of pottery or a glass vessel, the textures of fabric or a pattern on tiles – even tiny details like worn, repaired floorboards might spark an idea that then develops in my mind.
Nature gives me immense inspiration, and this has always been the case. Ferns unfurling, lichen on twigs brought down by the wind, the gloss and gleam of the first conkers. The garden that surrounds our cottage is a huge influence too. When the very first snowdrops appear, a tiny ceramic flower frog might be called for to hold them. When the field is abundant with buttercups, a taller vase. And when the roses appear in summer, the handmade vases are full of blooms and fill the cottage.
I also love cooking for family and friends, and a new recipe that suggests a different shape of cooking or serving dish sends me back down to the studio with new ideas. There is something wonderful about creating a meal to share, from food I have grown or sourced from local growers, and serving it on pieces I have made.”
Can you take us through the process of creating a piece, from first idea to finished object?
“Ideas come from everywhere – the details on a frayed piece of fabric, or a layer of wallpaper I might uncover in the cottage. Sometimes it’s hard to know where to start, so I draw, considering the shapes that are possibilities.
As I begin making, I try to keep things loose. I’ll have an idea, but I let the clay guide me, and through making the idea refines. I usually create a handful of slightly different versions of a piece, then wait for them to slowly dry before the first firing. Then comes the glazing – exploring small marks, patterns and textures, really treating the glaze as a canvas.
Pieces then come up to the cottage to be used. It’s important to me that my work can be part of everyday life, and for that it needs to be strong. The children will use everything, we’ll live with the shapes and textures, and then I’ll head back down to the studio to refine and make again.”
What does a beautiful and meaningful home mean to you, and how do you hope your pieces contribute to that feeling?
“A home should bring warmth, comfort, creativity, peace and energy. We all inhabit spaces, and within them so many stories are formed. In our old cottage, changes are slow and considered, led by the building and the garden.
The handmade pieces I’ve found from creative friends and makers further afield really do change how I feel – they encourage me to take time and live gently. The mug I use every day, now slightly chipped, sits in my hand just so, the stoneware keeping my first coffee of the day warm. I appreciate that every single morning. A new vase on the table from a local potter has a generous shape and a glaze like a fresh conker, and it somehow complements the roses brought in from the garden, linking the changing seasons.
These pieces make me notice and appreciate. I hope my pieces can do the same when someone feels a connection with them and takes them into their own home.”
A Few Stems, Beautifully Held
Inspired by Rose Jenkins’ snowdrops and flower frogs, a small arrangement is one of the simplest ways to bring the season indoors. A flower frog sits in the base of a shallow bowl or vase and holds each stem upright, so even a handful of flowers from a walk can look considered. Here’s how to build your own:
The pieces Rose makes for Sorbet Living carry that same sense of calm and ritual into the everyday. Her fluted oval stoneware plate, finished in a soft white wash beneath a matt clear glaze, is perfect as a small platter for cheese or a slice of tart. As the evenings draw in, Rose’s fluted tealight holders, in soft white and brown, gather small pools of warm light along a table or windowsill, while the earthy rustic candleholder holds one of our tapered candles for a gentle glow when the overhead lights stay off. And just in time for Christmas we will have a new fluted bowl to add to the collection, made for clementines, nuts and sweet treats. Each piece is made by hand from natural clay, so no two are ever quite the same.
Made to Be Used
There is something special about knowing where a piece has come from – the garden path, the tin-roofed studio, the owls calling overhead as it was shaped. Rose Jenkins’ work is made to be lived with and reached for each morning, filled with whatever the garden offers, and gathered around the table with the people we love. Slowly, gently, it becomes part of the story of a home.
Images used with approval of Rose Jenkins, product images by Sorbet Living.
Words by Amy Tarrant.
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