Longread by Jos Kranen, Kranen/Gille
From the porcelain ateliers of Jingdezhen to the embassy halls of Beijing, I’ve come to realise that design can be much more than the creation of objects: it can be a language that connects people across borders, traditions, and time.
This past year, our studio, Kranen/Gille, worked closely with the Taoxichuan Art Center in Jingdezhen, the porcelain capital of the world, to launch a new design residency. Our aim was not just to make beautiful work, but to foster genuine dialogue between Dutch design thinking and Chinese craftsmanship.
Listening Through Making
Jingdezhen is unlike any other place. The air is filled with clay dust and creativity; everywhere you look, people are shaping, firing, and refining porcelain. It’s a living ecosystem of tradition and invention.
When I curated this year’s residency, on behalf of both Kranen/Gille and the Taoxichuan Art Center, I selected three remarkable Dutch designers: Remy van Zandbergen, Inge Simonis, and Lenneke Wispelwey. Each of them brought their own perspective to Jingdezhen’s centuries-old craft.




We didn’t go there to impose Dutch design aesthetics. Instead, we went to listen. To see what happens when two creative cultures meet halfway, when curiosity replaces hierarchy. The results, now on their way to the Netherlands, reflect that conversation: subtle, experimental, and deeply human.
Design Education, Revisited
Our journey in China also led us to Xi’an Jiaotong-Liverpool University (XJTLU) in Suzhou, where designer and educator Jacob de Baan invited me to give a guest lecture. I spoke to graduating students about that defining moment when you step from the classroom into the professional world, from exploration to execution.
It’s a thrilling, sometimes terrifying transition. You move from imagining ideas in theory to testing them in practice. We shared our experience of Dutch Design, built on curiosity, playfulness, and collaboration, and how these principles can act as a compass in an unpredictable creative landscape. The students’ energy was infectious. They reminded me that design, at its core, is about asking the right questions, not rushing to provide the right answers.



Coffee Connection, and the Embassy of the Future
Not long after, our collaboration in Jingdezhen caught the attention of the Netherlands Embassy in Beijing. Ingrid de Beer (cultural attaché at he embassy in Beijing) reached out with a question that has stayed with me: What does an embassy represent today and can it be more open, more human?
That question became the foundation for Embassy of the Future, a project that reimagines the embassy as a place of connection rather than protocol. We began with something simple yet powerful in Dutch culture: the coffee break.




Coffee, in the Netherlands, is never just coffee. It’s a social ritual, a pause in the day to share stories, ideas, or silence. If your coffee turns cold, it usually means the conversation was worth it (or was too long, it’s a matter of perception)
We translated that spirit into a redesign of the embassy’s coffee space. An open, welcoming area with custom furniture, tableware, and even a reinterpreted stroopwafel. Together with WL Ceramics, we developed a bespoke coffee set that will soon be in daily use at the embassy. A small gesture, perhaps, but one that speaks volumes about connection and accessibility. Design, after all, can make even the most formal institutions feel human.

Night on Earth
Another project that reflects this philosophy is Night on Earth, part of our ‘Elements collection’ for Monasch. It was selected by curator Feng Boyi for the exhibition Matter: Energy Bound at the Taoxichuan Art Gallery. An exhibition exploring the five classical elements: wood, fire, earth, metal, and water.
Night on Earth was born during the pandemic, when time slowed down and reflection became part of the process. Working with an 80-year-old mechanical tufting machine at Monasch, we explored the dialogue between human and machine: the rhythm, precision, and imperfections that bind them together. Every pass of the needle became a kind of meditation on patience and transformation. For me, even a machine has personality; it teaches you respect through resistance.






The project came to life thanks to the generosity and insight of many collaborators. To name a few: Ian Yang from DutchCulture, who connected us with Feng Boyi, and our long-time partners Yvar Monasch, Erik de Jonge, and Frank Conrad.
Where Craft Meets Connection
Looking back on these projects, from porcelain and carpets to embassies and classrooms, one thing becomes clear: design is not just about things, but about relationships. It’s about the energy that flows between people, materials, and ideas. It’s about the quiet act of listening, of learning through making. We often think of innovation as something technical or digital. But I believe the real innovation lies in connection. In how we combine tradition with curiosity, and people with purpose.
That’s what continues to inspire me, whether in Jingdezhen, Den Bosch, or anywhere creativity sparks a conversation. Because in the end, design is not only a craft: it’s a bridge.
