In the city of Jingdezhen, located in Jiangxi province about 1,180 kilometres southeast of Beijing, the legacy of porcelain craftsmanship remains a living tradition. Known as China’s “Porcelain Capital,” the city boasts a pottery-making history spanning over 2,000 years, dating back to the Han Dynasty. This heritage recently gained international recognition when its porcelain sites were added to the UNESCO World Heritage List in 2026. That research can also shed light on the culture and beliefs that surrounded porcelain-making centuries ago. Some Jingdezhen craftsmen say they hold no particular beliefs associated with porcelain-making.
For artists like Chen Qing, these traditions are deeply personal and guarded with secrecy. Chen recalls her grandfather once writing down the specific formula for a unique red pigment, only to force her mother to memorize it before burning the paper immediately. This oral tradition has persisted for generations. “My mother did not reveal the formula to me until I was over 30,” Chen explained. Her family has been perfecting their craft in Jingdezhen since approximately 1860, upholding techniques originally developed for the imperial court that eventually migrated to private artisans after the Qing Dynasty collapsed in 1912. He asked her mother to memorise it and burned the paper minutes later. Chen’s ancestors adopted some of those traditions after the fall of the Qing Dynasty in 1912. “The craft is very difficult for an outsider to master,” Chen said. “A family might spend nearly a century developing a single technique. A lamp lighting her strokes, she works in silence. Holding the brush firmly as she paints delicate, precise strokes, she steadies her hand against its outer edge. Gradually shifting to brown and other warmer colors farther down the slope, a mountain summit might be emerald green. Among the tiles made at Jingdezhen’s imperial kilns were those used in the Bao’en Pagoda.
The process of creating fine porcelain is remarkably arduous. Chen notes that mastering these skills is a lifelong commitment, as outsiders often find the work inaccessible. In her studio, the precision required is absolute; a single particle of dust or a drop of sweat can ruin a piece, necessitating a restart. Landscapes are particularly complex to paint, requiring careful color transitions that blend shades from deep emerald greens to earthen browns. Unfinished pieces and pigments, two tables in her studio are covered with brushes. Chen’s fingers never touch the porcelain’s surface. Painting a porcelain teacup can take days to complete. “Mastering a craft is a lifelong process,” Chen said. “Few people are willing to spend more than 10 years learning such a painstaking craft. Each bearing an image of the Buddha, its exterior walls were covered with porcelain tiles. Others display figures of Budai – or the laughing Buddha – in their workshops as symbols of good fortune and prosperity.
Preservation efforts are centered around the Imperial Kiln Institute, which conducts research on ceramics excavated from imperial sites. President Weng Yanjun notes that the institute is now utilizing artificial intelligence to reconstruct ancient fragments and establish a “ceramic gene bank.” This technological integration aims to recover lost techniques while offering insights into the religious and cultural history of the region. Findings show that porcelain designs often integrated diverse influences, including Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, and European Catholic Christianity.
Spirituality remains woven into the craft for many practitioners. The imperial kiln complex houses a shrine to Tong Bin, known as the “Immortal Master of Wind and Fire” or the “Kiln God,” who is honored in local tradition for his sacrifice to protect kiln workers during the Qing era. While some modern artisans do not observe traditional rituals, others like fourth-generation master Sun Lixin maintain a deep reverence. Sun, who began his training at 13, bows to the Kiln God before firing kilns. “Some traditional rituals have faded considerably,” Sun remarked. “Yet in the hearts of craftspeople, that reverence remains.” It was part of a Buddhist temple complex that was destroyed during a 19th-century rebellion in the city of Nanjing. He is a fourth-generation practitioner who learned the trade from his father at age 13. Every time he paints or fires a piece, Sun is mindful of the hundreds of millions of years of geological history the white clay has undergone before reaching his hands.
The city is also experiencing a cultural resurgence as it attracts both domestic and international talent. Residency programs and universities, such as Jingdezhen Ceramic University, are training a new wave of artists. Huang Qi, a 2015 graduate, returned to the city to work after a period away, noting that the growing interest in the area is fostering a sense of optimism. “Jingdezhen is where my dream began,” Huang said, adding that the UNESCO recognition provides a foundation of confidence for the future. “It gives us confidence,” Huang said. “Things will continue to get better.”.
Italian ceramic artist Paola Masi, currently in a residency program, finds that the city’s roots in Song dynasty aesthetics have been pivotal to her own artistic development. As contemporary creators work alongside archaeologists to restore kiln sites, the synthesis of ancient wisdom and modern inquiry continues to define the spirit of Jingdezhen. For those dedicated to the craft, the ongoing preservation of these historic techniques ensures that the porcelain legacy will endure for future generations.
