How ceramicist Philip Eglin found the perfect home and studio in the Brecon Beacons
As ‘an artist who works in clay’, Philip Eglin is well versed in perseverance and patience. Both were needed in the search for the house he now shares with his wife, Jennet, and their lurcher, Ping-Pong, situated in the sheltered lea of Wales’s magnificent Brecon Beacons.
The move here, 15 years ago, marked the moment that Philip began to devote himself entirely to his art. His pieces are held in several major public collections across the world, and last year he was a finalist in the prestigious Loewe Foundation Craft Prize. For the collectors and curators who navigate the roads across the mountains, there is also his own diverse and ever-expanding archive.
The seeds of Philip’s interest in ceramics were sown during teenage visits to the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, and germinated at the University of Staffordshire (then Staffordshire Polytechnic) in Stoke-on-Trent.
It was there that Philip and Jennet met, and – after Philip had completed an MA at the Royal College of Art – they stayed in the city to raise their two sons (now in their 30s). At the time, Jennet was teaching history of art and design at Hereford College of Art and Philip was teaching ceramics at the university, but ‘for the last 18 years we were there, we were looking for something here,’ he says.
When they first viewed their current home, a late-Georgian, stone-built and Grade II-listed house, ‘it was too derelict, and too small,’ explains Jennet. Years passed; Philip and Jennet had ‘almost given up looking’ when the property was again offered for sale. ‘In between, it had been bought by someone who had restored it, enlarged it, and so made it perfect for us,’ she adds. In turn, three years ago, they did something similar for Philip’s outhouse studio. ‘It’s now lighter, warmer, and has a view.’
There’s more space for the clay that he orders in bulk, and for his ongoing intuitive investigations into ‘just how far I can push the material. I might have a loose idea of what a piece will look like, but it can change as it develops,’ he explains. His desire, he says, is to ‘uplift the human spirit; I want to make people smile.’
The pieces here and in the house show the breadth of his output. There are sculptures ‘in the manner of a Staffordshire flatback’; ‘translations of life drawings’ that borrow poses from the paintings of 16th-century German artist Lucas Cranach the Elder; and domestic items ‘made for us – they’re kiln fillers’. There are also pots, and what Philip calls ‘buckets’: large, round, exquisitely hand-painted receptacles that he began making in the late 1990s.
Ping-Pong is a constant companion to our conversation, which spans studio, kitchen and a garden complete with clucking chickens. ‘I love the peace here,’ Philip says. ‘Earning through teaching gave me early freedom in my practice. Now, it’s a new kind of freedom, the freedom of time to get lost in making, to play and experiment, and that’s amazing.’ The patience and perseverance it took to find the place to do it has evidently paid off.
Philip’s solo show is at the Scottish Gallery in Edinburgh from April 8 to May 1, 2027.
















