Inside Andriana Kedariti’s Studio and her Ancient Cyprus Inspired Art
In this studio visit interview, ceramic artist Andriana Kedariti invites us into her creative world. She shares a typical day in her studio and how she brings her ideas to life through clay. She talks openly about her process—the calm, the chaos, and the magical moments. From the influence of ancient Cypriot pottery to personal memories and village life, Andriana reveals what inspires her work and the stories behind her latest projects.
Though she prefers to work alone, curious neighbourhood cats often visit her space, and she fondly remembers her late dog Rocky, who used to keep her company. Her studio smells like vinegar—thanks to a recent batch of slip—but it’s all part of the beautifully messy rhythm she’s come to love.
And guess what? Andriana Kedariti is featured in our Studio Visit Book, Vol. 5, alongside many talented artists worldwide. Want a sneak peek? Grab your copy now from our shop and enjoy the fantastic artwork created by this global community.
https://shop.artstoheartsproject.com/products/the-creative-process-book
1. Can you describe your typical studio day and creative process?
A typical day in the studio? Honestly, it usually starts with coffee. I walk into the studio, look around at the chaos (because, when I’m tired or in a rush, it’s never perfectly tidy), and slowly ease into work. Some days I jump straight into clay, others I sit, touch the pieces I’ve been working on, and wait for the ideas to start flowing. Glazing the pots is a bit stressful for me—it’s that final step where things can either come together beautifully or go wrong. Pisces! Flowing in different currents simultaneously.
My creative process is either structured, with sketches in the many sketchbooks scattered around the studio, or unstructured, like a conversation between my hands and the clay. I usually start with a complete plan, but somewhere along the way, I change course. I let shapes guide me, respond to how the clay moves, and sometimes what starts as one idea turns into something completely different. I get inspired by memories, nature, stories people share… and sometimes just from the studio’s silence. There are messy days, frustrating days, and those magical days when everything clicks. That’s what keeps me coming back.
2. What is the primary inspiration behind your current body of work?
I’ve been working on a series of stoneware vessels inspired by ancient pottery in Cyprus’s Alasia region. I try to capture the spirit of the archaic—the ancient—through a modern lens. These vessels are more than objects; they’re storytellers. They hold memories and create connections between the present and the past. One recurring motif in ancient Cypriot pottery is the bird, which I’ve reimagined in my way. I chose the Cyprus Warbler (Trypopterus or Trypopterus), an endemic bird found only on the island. It is sculpted onto the surface of the vessels, not just as decoration, but as a presence. She’s the mother figure, a guardian of memories, a quiet protector. She carries the weight of the past and ensures stories, love, and history aren’t forgotten. She’s the keeper of time.
3. What is your favourite memory or incident from your studio?
It’s hard to pick just one favourite memory from the studio—so many moments come with a smile. I’ve had workshops over the years with amazing people passing through. Some groups just clicked, and we had so much fun it felt more like a party than a class. One of my absolute favourites was a workshop I gave to my family—my three sons and my husband. Seeing them dive into clay, laugh, and get messy was something I’ll always treasure. Then there’s that feeling of total relief and satisfaction when I finish a new series, and the photographer comes in to shoot the pieces. It’s like the calm after a storm—but the good kind. And of course, the chaotic joy of packing big commissions with the help of friends—bubble wrap flying, clay dust everywhere, and us laughing at the most minor things. These are the moments that stay with me.
4. Do you have any studio assistants, or do visitors, such as pets or children, often accompany you?
I don’t have any studio assistants—I prefer working alone. I like the quiet and the space to get lost in the process. I used to have the best visitor—my dog Rocky. He would pass by, do his little “check” of the studio like he was supervising, then head off again. He passed away two months ago, and I still feel his absence. These days, it’s mostly the cats from the neighbourhood strolling through the garden outside my big window. Some of them pause and stare at me like I’m the strange one. And then there are the birds—always singing in the trees. They might not be helping with clay, but they keep me company.
5. How would you describe a dream studio for yourself?
My dream studio? A bigger one—at the top of the list—a space where I can move freely without tiptoeing around tables and tools. I imagine extended workbenches, a slab roller (finally!), shelves filled with glazes in every shade I’ve ever wanted to try, a wall of test tiles, and endless storage for all the pieces in progress. Good natural light, a cosy corner for sketching, and maybe even a little outdoor area to sit and take a break with a coffee.
Ideally, I’d have different workbenches for each stage—studying and sketching, preparing the clay, making, drying. That said, I’ve learned to enjoy the ‘stress’ of a small space—it pushes me to stay organised, to decorate and rearrange. Every time I shift things around, I feel a new energy flow. So no, I don’t hate small studios… but a bit more room for extra benches would be nice!
6. What does your studio smell of right now?
Right now it smells like vinegar—I added some to the slip while trying to fix a few stubborn pots. It’s not exactly the romantic scent of clay and creativity, but that’s studio life. Some days, it smells earthy and calm, other days dusty, and sometimes there is a ‘scent’ of vinegar. It’s always something different, always a bit messy—and I kind of love that.
7. If you could set up your studio anywhere in the world, where would it be?
If I could set up my studio anywhere in the world, it would probably be on a Greek island, tucked into the heart of a small village. I go every year, and I love the rhythm of village life, the way people pass by, stop to chat, and peek inside. That connection, that simplicity, feels so inspiring. But honestly, I don’t think I have to go far. I’ve been working on a project called Alea, and I envision creating an artist neighbourhood in the city centre or near my town.
A place with studios lined along small alleys, surrounded by trees, cobblestone paths, maybe a little park nearby. A creative community where artists work side by side, share stories, and bring life to the area. I’ve started to shape it through my work and ideas; you can see it on www.aleaceramics.com. Whether on an island or in the city, what matters most is that sense of belonging and inspiration.
8. Can you discuss any ongoing projects or plans for your work?
Right now, I’m working on two main projects. One is Alasia—a series of stoneware vessels inspired by ancient Cypriot pottery, sculpted with the figure of the Cyprus Warbler. Often seen in ancient motifs, the bird symbolises memory and protection in my work, a guardian connecting past and present. The second project is a new series of ceramic wall art pieces. They’re still in process, but they focus on “home.” These works try to capture echoes of places we’ve lived in or passed through—fragments of habits, bike rides, family corners, the everyday. I carve these memories into clay, using traditional techniques with a contemporary feel. It’s about nostalgia, impressions, and the stories that stay with us long after we leave a place.
9. How do you organise your space?
It depends on what stage I’m in. Sometimes my space is organised—when I’m finishing up a series, everything’s in its place, tools are clean, shelves are tidy, and I even have time to enjoy the calm. But most of the time, it’s a bit of beautiful chaos—unfinished pots wrapped in plastic, pieces waiting to be glazed, buckets and tools everywhere. I like to say everything’s “in progress”—because when I’m deep in the making, tidiness takes a back seat. Still, I always know where things are… more or less!
10. What is your favourite corner in the studio?
My favourite corner is the table in front of the window. It’s where I do my sgraffito and glazing. Even though glazing can be a bit stressful for me, that spot gives me strange energy. There’s something about the natural light coming in, the view of the garden, and the feeling that everything on that table is on its way to becoming complete. It’s like the final chapter of each piece—and that always feels a little exciting.
Andriana Kedariti’s studio feels like a lived-in, creative sanctuary—full of energy, stories, and quiet moments of reflection. It’s a space where clay dust lingers in the air, sketches scatter across surfaces, and inspiration flows between memories and material. A comforting chaos comes from being deeply engaged in the making process.
With natural light pouring in through a big window, the occasional neighbourhood cat outside, and tools in varying states of use, the studio feels personal, evolving, and full of life. It’s a place where past and present meet, and where each corner tells part of her story.
Visit our website to explore the virtual studio spaces of other artists. To be featured on our website, remember to apply for this month’s call for art.
Read more about Andriana on her Website and Instagram.
Arts to Hearts Project is a global media, publishing, and education company for
Artists & Creatives, where an international audience will see your work of art, patrons, collectors, gallerists, and fellow artists. Access exclusive publishing opportunities and over 1,000 resources to grow your career and connect with like-minded creatives worldwide. Click here to learn about our open calls.
