A potter’s deeply personal Somerset cottage reflects his love of craft and collected things
Every couple of months, Somerset-based potter George Bronwin releases a new drop of hand-painted ceramics via his website. So devoted are his fans – everyone from fashion designers and antiques dealers to rock stars – that they sell out almost immediately. His blue and white pieces are something of a signature, ranging from cobalt striped lamps and vases to platters featuring trailing leaf motifs, inspired by 12th century Kashan bowls in the Victoria & Albert Museum. ‘I fell into it,’ admits George, who in 2019 swapped a career in top-tier hospitality for pottery after a night class in Lewisham got him hooked. ‘When I figured out that life was a bit short to be hosting billionaires in Verbier, I decided that I was going to come to London, squat with my very generous sister in Islington, join a pottery studio and make it all work somehow.’
His route to this charming Somerset cottage in Quantock Hills followed a similarly circuitous trajectory. He didn’t grow up there – his childhood was spent in mid-Wales – but he had lived in Somerset as an 18-year old ‘WWOOF’er’ (a volunteer for the organisation World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) on a smallholding. He struck up a longstanding friendship with his hosts, Suki and Rich, and later, in 2020, after a happy year living with his sister in London and making ‘some truly wonky ceramics’, he decided to take Suki up on an offer to use her wheel and kiln. ‘It felt a bit random, but London was unaffordable and there was enough about the Quantocks to make me go for it,’ recalls George, who at first rented a cottage down there.
Come 2023 and firmly bedded into Somerset life, George was ready to find a place of his own. The market was dead, but then he came across this mid-nineteenth century cottage in a village not far from Taunton. Built from Quantocks sandstone and in ‘desperate need of someone to do lots to it,it's the sort of house that a child might draw. Its central door is flanked by evenly spaced windows on both floors, sandwiched by chimney pots at either end. ‘It was the biggest house I looked at and the only one I saw that was detached,’ says George, explaining that it had originally been part of a terrace until the adjoining houses were demolished in the 1960s. The layout was ‘all over the place’, with lots of doors and two staircases, owing to the fact that it started life in 1842 as two workers' cottages, with a central communal corridor. But George could see the opportunity; the garden had amazing views and although the interiors were a 1980s time warp, the house felt ‘reassuringly solid.’ He forged ahead.
He likens his first few months there to camping. ‘I was quite delusional about what I needed to do,’ he explains. A hunt for a builder proved long-winded, but turned out to be a blessing in disguise because it gave George time to interrogate what needed doing. At the same time, he was poring over magazines for inspiration: ‘the more I read, the more expensive my taste got and the higher my expectations,’ he adds, with a laugh. ‘I didn’t want shortcuts; I realised it was the quality of materials that would give me pleasure,’ he explains, pointing out the elm floorboards that surround the fireplace, which were a considerable expense but bring him delight everyday.
Eventually, he found a local builder, Dave Mantle, who began work at the Somerset cottage in July 2024. Single glazed rotten windows were replaced with Accoya-framed double glazing, while the galley kitchen and existing dining room were opened up to create one lovely large kitchen/dining space, now fitted with a DeVol kitchen – bought for 25% off the usual price because he opted for unpainted and finished it himself – that looks out onto the garden. He created a clever little cloakroom in the centre of the house, dissecting what had been the communal corridor and adding a cleverly positioned window to provide a sightline from front to back. ‘I was project managing the whole thing, while attempting to work, live here and not go bankrupt,’ he admits, with a laugh. Making sense of the upstairs layout was key. The second back staircase, which popped out upstairs in what would become George’s bedroom, was removed and a ‘waste of space landing, shower and loo’ and an existing bedroom were reconfigured to create a generous main bedroom and ensuite. A fourth bedroom – now needed as a walk-through to get to George’s bedroom due to the removal of the back staircase – was turned into a charming lobby-cum-dressing room and is now enveloped by 36 Bourne Street’s ‘Cypress Paper’.
Just like with his pots, the colours and patterns in the house are rich, earthy and decorative. ‘The joy of interiors is that I was actually able to get the colours to stay how they’re meant to be,’ says George, joking about the unpredictability of the firing process. Blue – a colour George admits to having a ‘near clinical obsession’ with – weaves throughout, finding form in tiles, handpainted by George, behind the cooker and in a striped seat cushion he had made for a seat by the back door in the kitchen. But the only room actually painted blue – Farrow & Ball’s ‘Oval Room Blue’ – is a guest bedroom, thanks to Paddy O’ Donnell, Farrow & Ball’s brand ambassador, who marshalled George’s obsession and helped him establish a palette for the house. The sitting room is painted in Farrow & Ball’s ‘Dibber’, creating a rich cocooning feel, while the kitchen is light and airy in ‘Slipper Satin’. Reclaimed terracotta floor tiles, sourced from France, ground it and stop it feeling too “done” by giving the sense that they might have always been there. George went to great lengths throughout to ensure additions felt authentic, even ‘embodying a woodworm’ by creating his own tool to rough up the new floorboards required upstairs.
Building work took six months, followed by a further few months of refining. The furnishings have been a slow burn, coming together piece by piece over the past couple of years. He arrived with a few pieces, including a rather amazing satin wood linen chest that belonged to his grandfather and was hoisted into his dressing room through the gap created when the secondary staircase was removed. ‘It’s not going anywhere now,’ he says. Soon he found himself trawling auction sites, scoring a sofa on eBay for a couple of hundreds of pounds. Some purchases proved more troublesome than others, including the striped Howard-style armchair, also in the sitting room, which he bought from an auction at Crewkerne, only to discover that it needed a full overhaul. ‘I spent the best part of £800 making it good again,’ he admits. At the upholsterers he happened to bump into curtainmaker Emma Brimble, who proved his ‘gateway into a whole other universe’ – fabrics. ‘She got me into all the brands I shouldn’t know about,’ explains George, who savvily bought most fabric from eBay as remnants for a fraction of their retail price, including the Rose Uniacke off-white linen, which became his bathroom blind. For curtains, where he needed to be economical with the fabric, he opted for inexpensive plains from Merchant & Mills, which cost as little as £19 a metre. The third guest room has been his most recent project, where he created a cabin-style curtained bed, framed in Jane Churchill’s ‘Indus Stripe’. Dotted throughout are his own ceramics and pots by the likes of Doug Fitch, Richard Batterham and Nic Collins; another thread throughout are pieces by Bristol-based artist Tom Morris, whose naive paintings of galloping horses, flower and pots, line the walls.
‘I’m happy with a life that’s quite simple,’ says George. ‘The fact I can sustain myself by making pots and living in a nice place is enough for me,’ he adds. He makes his pots in a rented studio nearby, where looks out onto the rather charming ‘pottery garden’ that he planted up. ‘My environment is really important to me,’ he explains. ‘I need that to be able to make stuff,’ he adds. ‘My surroundings feed me.’






















