The Art of Brand Storytelling With Cinematographer & Shopkeeper Toby Strong

In a small Devon shop, centuries-old Tibetan fabric, brass jewellery from Nairobi, and ceremonial Maasai beaded necklaces sit beside locally thrown pottery and whittled wooden spoons. Each object tells a story - of hands that shaped it, of traditions passed down, of connections made.

But perhaps the most remarkable story belongs to the shop’s owner…

Toby Strong on the right (it’s not often you ask for a profile picture and get sent one with David Attenborough!)

Toby Strong is a multi-Emmy and BAFTA-winning wildlife cameraman whose work has taken him to some of the most remote corners of the world for documentaries like Planet Earth. When I worked at the BBC, I was in awe of the Natural History teams. They had a kind of wildness about them - out of place in the corporate corridors and meeting rooms, with their deep tans, athletic builds, and tales of epic encounters with polar bears, whales, and elephants. They were master storytellers. And Toby is one of the best.

He’s also a shopkeeper, a dream he has held onto since childhood;

“From when I was maybe in my teens, there was a sketch of this shop I wanted to create - craft and art from around the world. It’s always been there.”

Some brand stories go beyond just beautiful products. They create an emotional connection, a sense of belonging, a feeling that something real and deeply personal has been woven into the business. Craftmongers, in Ashburton; on the edge of Dartmoor, and within distant sight of the sea, is one of those magical places — where story and people are at the heart of everything they do, create, and sell.

It was such a pleasure to interview Toby about his journey, his work, and the ethos behind Craftmongers. What made it even more special was that our conversation took place through voice notes sent from his filming location in Africa, transporting me from my desk in Wales in winter.

It’s a long read, but I promise it’s worth your time.

Q: Craftmongers shares a beautiful narrative of a slower, more sustainable way of life, of the changing seasons and the beauty in the handmade. Can you share the story of the shop and how and why you started it?

I grew up in Dorset in the countryside. My father was a carpenter, my grandmother and grandfather were gardeners, so nature, making and craft, and working with your hands have been an innate part of my life. I always saw beauty and wonder in the natural world, so I wanted to follow that. Initially, I led expeditions, and then I was introduced to a camera, and I realised that through that, I could reach so many more people and tell the wonderful stories of the world, but also highlight the wrongs and the injustices. So that started my career as a wildlife conservation documentary cinematographer.

As I travelled, I'd work with a lot of indigenous peoples around the world, and I would always be drawn to the craftspeople, the makers. I brought back so many things. I was clearing out a drawer the other day, and it had things from when I was maybe in my teens, and there was a sketch of this shop I wanted to do, of craft and art from around the world even then, and so it's always been there.

Filming can feel quite ethereal. I wanted something tangible and real. I've never had the opportunity because of always moving and then I got the chance in Ashburton of a space where I could live upstairs with my son, with a shop downstairs. That's how we started it with a few things I’d brought back, some rugs and some jewellery and bits and pieces collected over the years that, one day, if I have my shop, I could use.

We grew from there, and now we support dozens and dozens of local makers, but also still those from around the world. I was filming hyenas in the Maasai Mara, and as I came out through Nairobi, I stopped at a little market and met this lovely lady. She makes brass jewellery, and we've always supported her and a mother and daughter in Turkey with their linens. There's a cooperative of Maasai women we buy beaded, beautiful necklaces and jewellery from and I love that we have both local and international. We have never wanted it to feel like a space where you move from one maker to the next, and they're isolated, almost like in a museum or gallery.

You'll pick up a piece of clothing that we've made and designed in the shop, and it'll be sitting on a piece of fabric that's 300 years old from Tibet. And then next to it is some chocolates that are made just up the road from us, two or three doors up, and some dried flowers that were grown in somebody's garden, and the thing weaving through them is the texture, the colors. I love that we can do that, and you don't know if what you're picking up has something antique from faraway lands or something made yesterday. We all love that, and with regard to the question of a slower way of living,

We've lived a very similar way for 70,000 years, and our hands always worked. So in the evenings, in the winters, we would sit, and we would tell stories and mend and make. That's still in our DNA, and I feel evermore so in how our world is that we need it.

We desperately need to slow down, and we need to make. We need to be creative. We need our hands to be doing. Everything is so fast and everything revolves around money, and this striving and grasping for money that we need, but it shouldn't be the be all and end all.

So the unwritten code and rule of the shop was that we wanted people to come in and just, (exhales). We were always changing and evolving and moving things around, but we had all the books upstairs at one point, and we had a lovely old armchair in there, and we wanted people just to sit and read. I remember someone saying, but I might not be able to buy a book. It doesn't matter. Just sit all day and read a book, have a coffee, just stop. And the conversations that people have, they chat and meet, it's so vital. So, for us, it was about building community.

We decided to create our own, not to create something new, although it is new, but to champion those things that we value so highly, integrity, gentleness, empathy, kindness, creativity, love, compassion, and to weave those into the very fabric of the building.

People have responded so beautifully to it; the gifts of the conversations and the interactions we've had with people have filled our hearts a thousand times over.

Q: Why is it important to you to share the story of the items you stock, the makers, materials and processes? Do you think it matters to your customers, and how do they respond?

I think it's vital. I think now the vast majority of things are bought at the click of a button and arrive end of the day or the next day, and they come out of the same brown packet.

As I sit now talking to you, I have a cup I'm drinking coffee from made by Cliff, who lives five minutes away. And the coffee I'm drinking, I know where it's come from. And the plate in front of me is really old. I bought it from a little brocante in France.

The table this phone is on that I'm talking to you on, I made it, and it makes the everyday magical, the knife you cut with, the plate you eat, from the jumper you wear. It has a lineage and it has a story. We crave it. We want that more than ever now.

And how do people respond? People adore it, and they'll come in and go, what's this? who made it, and where are they from?

Each of us has our own compasses with regard to the shop, but one of us, at different times or another, will hold the others to account as well. We know we cannot stock that, we cannot buy this. Craftmongers isn't just about us who run it. It's about the community, and the community has defined what Mongers has become. It is all part of the same thing. It's not just a shop, it's a community.

I am blessed in that I get to travel the world and make wonderful films and work with extraordinary people and animals and in the most extraordinary places, the wild edges of this planet, but me doing that means I am not back working in the shop. Running the shop would be utterly impossible without everyone in it, and Jody and Lauren, who manage it, are extraordinary. My part is small now; I do what I can when I can, and often that’s putting up a shelf or painting a wall, but it’s them and everyone else who works in Craftmongers. That is why it is magical. It is a cooperative of extraordinary talents.

Q: Natural elements invariably feature in many of the products you stock as well as in the styling of the store itself; how do you use nature and the seasons in your brand storytelling?

A: Last Christmas, we put some beautiful birch that the National Park had cut down and thinned out the forests. We brought them down and put them in the window. I want to shout out to Judy, who's been a sort of horticulturalist in that, and we've had gone from winter with the sparsity of the birch and Christmas decorations, and then spring with primroses growing through moss and then strawberries. We want the outside to be inside. What we don't want is to people to walk into a shop and for it to be a year round, identical thing as you walk into a supermarket and can buy your avocados or your blackberries year round. We want to bring nature in, so you'll walk in and there may be autumnal leaves scattered on the floor. You can pick strawberries in the window, the first strawberries, and we want children to be impassioned by that. We sit inside and watch as they go to school. We want people to come back, not just to that way of life, but it's about reattaching us, inserting us back into nature, back into ecology. We are all animals. We are not separated from the natural world. We have to be reminded of that. So yes, come in and be reminded that it's spring and summer and autumn, and the amount of people who'll come in and go, oh, that reminds me. I must go blackberry picking, or I must go and find wild garlic and make pesto.

It's all about weaving magic and storytelling. We weave the stories on many levels. The greatest gift of Craftmongers is the people who work there. They’re all artists, they're all makers. They all step lightly on this earth through the natural world, and they bring that in, and they will weave it in their song and their words and how they interact with everyone. And it really does feel like magic.

The shop is imbued with the magic that is grown and added to by each Craftmonger, who joins and it's a very special thing.

Q: You’re a master storyteller capturing breathtaking footage of the natural world, including for the BBC programmes Planet Earth and Blue Planet. Those series are known for taking, often complex, scientific research or a particular act of nature or animal behaviour and communicating that through a story that audiences can understand and connect to emotionally. How do you approach creating stories, and what are the key elements of telling a story well? 

A: It's really interesting. If you look at what Craftmongers put out to the world on social media, there are very few videos. There are very few films, and I've deliberately and maybe subconsciously not done that. It feels like Craftmongers has its own life and a different way of telling stories. Everyone in the shop is really good at photography, and everyone is a storyteller, whether it's signwriting, oil paintings, watercolours, photography, or writing; the talents we have amongst everyone who works there are extraordinary.  Storytelling does not just have to be film. Storytelling is audio, it can be dance, song, it can be how a product is displayed.

Everything does come back to storytelling, and we crave storytelling. Storytelling has been stripped from us, and we must regain it. It's what all of our ancestors going back did, we fell asleep to stories as children and entertained our children in those long nights and summer evenings by fires and we see it as utterly vital to tell stories.

Q: How do you think storytelling can be used in business, and what do you think makes a great brand story?

A: Look at great brands. It's always storytelling. Look at Guinness. They have their lineage of the story and then each of their commercials that come out are the most exquisite stories told visually and narratively. They are absolute masterpieces.

The great brands all have stories. I think stories are told on many levels, and you build your brand as you tell your story and your story evolves. You need to know who you are, where you're going, and why and who you're telling your story to.

It's vitally important, I believe.

Q: What’s the next chapter for Craftmongers?

A: We are in a difficult period with the cost of living crisis and the economy as it is everyone is struggling. At the end of 2023, we were doing wonderfully, and we decided to try and expand, so we moved into probably the most wonderful spot in Ashburton. We moved all of the retail things down there, and in our old building, we had a bookshop at the bottom, a little cafe at the back, and we’d be making our clothes that we were designing upstairs and a space for workshops, and at the back was going to be a ceramic studio that we rented out to artists. It was very exciting.

Sadly, footfall, economy and planning for the building did not go our way, and we struggled. What we’ve had to do is to withdraw, as in the winter, sort of when you lose feeling first in your fingers and your toes; we need to withdraw to our core. So we’ve closed one building, and we’re keeping the core business of the crafts and the arts with some of our clothes and some books back to one property.

We’re going to ride out the current economic unknown, and then we will grow again.

As light follows dark and spring follows winter.

We have many ideas and really exciting things that aren’t just about support and buying and selling from artists and makers. We want everyone to make, and from my travels around the world, I want to support crafts and arts that are vanishing, not just here in Devon or England or Europe, but all around the world, everywhere I see it, the masters are vanishing, and these skills are going so we want to be able to support cooperatives in learning and supporting and making traditional skills and crafts around the world that we can then bring back and help support.

The greatest story ever told on crafts and art still needs to be told, and we want to be part of that narrative.

Thank you to Toby and the wonderful Craftmongers. Like all good love stories, it’s a story full of heart and hope.

You can visit their website here, follow them on Instagram, and the shop is at 4 East Street, Ashburton, Devon, TQ13 7AA

Toby also has a beautiful series of audio stories from his travels and adventures which I love listening to with my daughter https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/through-a-wild-lens/id1503466490

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The Art of Visual Brand Storytelling With Photographer Ellen Christina Hancock

Shot by Ellen Christina Hancock for Atelier Ellis

“I like the in-between moments because they make us human. How we move in a space, our rituals, our physical dialogue of movement. How you take your tea, your favourite seat with your imprints of calm moments left behind. It says a lot about us, and I am always curious to observe it.”

In this blog post, I want to introduce you to one of my favourite visual storytellers, photographer Ellen Christina Hancock. If you’re familiar with the brand Atelier Ellis (featured in this previous blog post) you’ve likely already seen Ellen’s distinctive work. 

Her images, characterised by their striking simplicity and stillness, capture the feeling and atmosphere of a space and moment, evoking an emotional connection.

Ellen talks to us about the art of visual brand storytelling, how she developed her creative style by noticing the beauty in the ordinary, and how she approaches capturing each still or moving image to portray the heart of a brand story.

Q: Can you share your story, how you became a photographer and how you developed your style?

Like lots of people, it wasn’t a linear trajectory. I remember very early on having a discomfort, a yearning to be able to articulate things, the world around me, other people, myself. I was always creative and always exploring but couldn’t find any coherence and was often left very frustrated. 

My mum was a photographer. She would endlessly photograph me and my siblings and document her experiments in bursting notebooks. I spent a lot of time watching her in her tiny makeshift darkroom and what I remember most is experiencing the moments of clarity she had, when everything aligned and she created a moment of purity. I longed for the same thing.

For the longest time I just wasn't sure what career I wanted. In the end, purely for the love of it, I decided to study Fine Art and History of Art at Leeds University. During this time I always used photography as a means to explore my work and document things but mostly I worked with sculpture and interactive design. I studied abroad as part of the Erasmus scheme in Istanbul where I also specialised in sculpture but this time in more traditional forms; metal, stone and clay. I spent a lot of time there photographing and taking videos particularly of my daily crossing between Kadıköy (the Asian side) where I lived and Eminönü (the European side) where I studied and the birds that would ceaselessly follow the boats. But during this time and my degree, although I did it a lot, I never considered photography as a path, it was a means to an end, a way to document. It simply didn’t cross my mind to take it further. 

Portrait of Ellen Christina Hancock

At university I would often gravitate to roles that assisted or engaged with other artisans. I was much more interested in organising our degree show and the work others were producing than my own. When I left university this continued. I worked for an architecture magazine and directly for architects doing marketing roles, content creating, editorial - enhancing the work of others. I felt ultimately that this was my place. That I wanted to be in the creative world but I wouldn’t be a creative myself.

While at the architecture magazine I started to do a piece documenting architecture studios, a sort of ‘Day in the life of…’. To save money and time and to give it a more relatable feel, I did the photography. This piece became a regular feature and I started to do more and more photography. There was not a lightbulb moment just a slow realisation that actually I really enjoyed this. I started to carry a camera around with me more, take one on holiday and for several years this went on. 

I then went part time while working at an architecture practice and tried to get some professional photography work. This was a long and laborious slog! I took every job I could get, in every field, of every type. I finally started to get some traction and lockdown hit. 

To cut a long story short, lockdown is when I found my style. I had to move back in with my parents, had no work and like all of us was struggling with the enormity and devastation of what was going on around me. It was a year and a half before I could afford to move out again and return to London but in that time, having reached a version of rock bottom, I photographed and studied every day, relentlessly. I was very lucky to have my parents and their support so I took the opportunity to learn as much as I could. Walking the same route everyday, observing the same four walls, the same people within them, I observed all the small changes. The light throughout the day, flutters of transition as the seasons began to change and tried to find purpose in these moments rather than relying on interesting buildings or overt beauty in front of me. 

Towards the end of this time and as lockdown was lifting, we visited The Weald and Downland Museum nearby. As we were walking in the gardens I noticed some berries starting to ripen and some dappled light calling them to my attention. This was one of the first moments I played with underexposing and overriding the camera’s meter reading. This was a pinnacle moment, probably the only one I can recall in my life, this was my way of seeing and my way of communicating it. A moment of hope in the darkness, a longing acknowledged. 

Eltham Palace shot by Ellen Christina Hancock

Q: You describe approaching your work with curiosity and a desire to encourage natural and authentic imagery that tells a story - can you expand on what you mean by that and why you always want to tell a story?

I think really it comes down to connection. I have such a strong desire to be heard and understood - to connect - truly and deeply with someone and so I would like to allow that space for others. It is fascinating to me that I can turn up to a complete strangers house/studio/place of work, they allow me into their safe space and within a couple of hours we have shared something really special and hopefully had a moment of genuine connection. I try to honour the trust they have given me, whether in shooting their work or themselves and to show it as earnestly and truthfully as I can. It is that connection between us that I want to show, not my interpretation. I do not want to come in, take over, share a curated version or just my version of events. It is the shared experience we have had - how they have told their story and how I have heard and received it. 

Alexander Griffin shot by Ellen Christina Hancock for Inigo

Q: You capture light and dark so well. How do you use the qualities of both to enhance the storytelling in your work? 

I think it is an understanding that there are wonderful things in both. There is great depth to be found in the dark and hope in the light but the two can only exist and are at their best in the presence of each other.  I want things to be seen and admired as they are. 

It is, of course, inextricably tied to me as a person too. I am not an overtly and consistently joyful, upbeat person - I am glass half empty to be sure. But I am thoughtful, kind, reflective and considered and try to be accepting of my nature and its complexities - there is good in it all and I want to show and see value in showing these variations. 

Shot by Ellen Christina Hancock for Atelier Ellis

Q: You seem to work closely with a small number of clients. I especially love the images you create for the paint company Atelier Ellis. There’s so much atmosphere, the sense of peace and the feeling of home - how do you work together to create such beautifully rich storytelling and does it help creatively to have a long-term relationship?

There is a lot of preparation beforehand that allows for spontaneity and creativity on the day. I will ask for details of the project, what the aims are, particular shots, any inspiration and also images or things that are not right. I find a lot of the people I work with find inspiration in a variety of places like I do so there may be a visit to a gallery, a novel of importance, a film to watch but there is a lot of gathering of inspiration. 

We then try to create a bit of structure to the day depending on the light, priority images and peoples’ availability. Some formality to create foundations but as I say then on the day we try to keep it as free as possible. We try things and if they do not feel right we will not continue on with them, we will explore something new if it presents itself and we always have our notes and brief to refer back to and check in regularly. 

I am particularly lucky with Cassandra from Atelier Ellis, she lives and breathes what she preaches and is an inspiration to work with, as is her team. Our long-term relationship is now a friendship and a shared love of art, literature, fashion, food, ceramics, an appreciation for kindness, all of which informs what we do.  Nowadays we have a visual language together and can work very seamlessly. What really elevates this from both sides is trust - I fully trust and am invested in her vision and she trusts in the way I translate it. 

I think the key with a long-term relationship, and this is something Cassandra and I strive for, is to continue to grow. We are always questioning what worked well, what didn’t, thinking how, can do that better, striving for more.

Shot by Ellen Christina Hancock for Atelier Ellis

Q: The short film clips have your distinctive artful look, but the subtle movements you capture always have a sense of life, a hint of a person in the room, it’s as if they’ve just popped out…the whiskey settling in a decanter, the rising smoke from a candle, a linen curtain gently moving in the breeze. How have you translated the storytelling of your stills photography into moving images? 

On a practical level - I started video because I felt if I wanted my business to last, I had to. However, I took the approach that if I started on my own terms I would be able to do it in a thoughtful way and with the emphasis on enhancing my work.

I observed that when I was shooting there were moments where natural movement occurred that would suit the format. We might have the window open to shoot because it is warm and a breeze comes through and brings it alive for video. Or we are having a coffee break and the setting catches my eye and looks appealing. I do not however force the movement. The photography comes first, the frame is set and then the movement extends on from there, this way the two can sit comfortably along side each other and elevate one another. 

On another practical note, shooting video is very different to photography, you are almost trying to shut out the light rather than let it in. There are stages with video though that mean I can break my learning into manageable chunks and progress technically in quite a methodical way. Cine stills are a useful and obvious way to start, then you can introduce more movement, come off the tripod and then start thinking about sound which is a whole other kettle of fish.

It’s always helpful to be learning and thinking about new ways of seeing. This learning then engages my photography and new challenges and parameters push me to keep thinking of other ways to tell stories. 

 Images above show details of Nancy Nicholson, weaver and textile artist photographed by Ellen Christina Hancock

Q: How do you capture people in your images - you seem to always be able to show so much character? And then in your moving stills - I’m thinking of the ones you created for Berdoulat - but in others too, people are often only slightly in the frame, in the distance or walking away. Why do you choose to capture it that way and how does it add to the story you want to tell?

Ultimately, I want to enjoy my days. I have taken a huge risk working for myself and one of my main intentions in doing so is to have more control over my life and to enjoy my time as much as possible.

I want to meet new and interesting people and hear about their lives. I think it is about prioritising the person not the shot. I take the time to talk to them, to find out about what they are doing, how their day was. I hope what is coming across in the imagery is our connection, me being genuinely interested in their character and who they are and giving them space to be that person. With this approach I find the best shots follow. 

I like these in between moments because they make us human. How we move in a space, our rituals, our physical dialogue of movement. How you take your tea, your favourite seat with your imprints of calm moments left behind. It says a lots about us and I am alway curious to observe it. I think we often say more about ourselves in those moments and people are more relaxed and comfortable being observed in this way. 

Part of it is also about not wanting to invade peoples’ space or force them into being front and centre if they do not want to. As a female photographer, it is hard for me to photograph certain situations - I am not necessarily safe doing street photography for example and in the past have put myself in situations I shouldn’t have. I already have one eye on my surroundings to make sure I am not in danger, I cannot always risk averting my gaze further for the sake of a beautiful shot. Equally as a woman I feel I am often watched and observed when I don’t want to be. I try always to think how would I feel if I had a camera shoved in my face on the street, or was forced to perform in a certain way. If it is uncomfortable, unsafe, or uneasy for someone I will not ask them to do it. It is not a common view but the shot is not always worth it and I would rather respect people. If I observe people in a beautiful composition, I can appreciate and take on the moment in person, enjoy it as a nice composition then walk away knowing it will have informed and inspired in some way.

Planque restaurant shot by Ellen Christina Hancock for The Modern House

Q: Your work really stands out. Its crafted simplicity is visually striking and bold amongst the noise and busyness of so much online content. Do you think there’s a power in being quieter and slower?

That is a very nice thought and I hope so but I also think I am unable to be otherwise, to be loud! 

With social media I really am just not able to show up other than how I already do. I try to craft longer captions, to say more on stories and it just feels forced, therefore I would rather not do it. I would rather save my energy to engage with people in person, on shoots and then let the photography talk for me.

But the people I really engage with online are those who produce at a slower pace, a quality over quantity approach. I look out for their content, I save it and refer back to it regularly and I think that is powerful. It becomes knowledge that informs me rather than a fleeting interest. 

Q: How do you work creatively with your clients to ensure you’re capturing an image that always works for them commercially?

I think this is again about understanding your role in the process, not being too dominant with your own vision as a photographer and knowing the importance of the function of the image. There will be times when the primary focus of the image is to create an atmosphere and a feeling and these can be more loose but when an image has a commercial function, whatever is being sold must be the most important thing and be made to look its best. Beauty is still very important but is not the primary function and that must be remembered. If everything is well prepared and carefully considered then the imagery will be consistent and multifunctional. 

I find for a more commercial image, often it is key to pare things back, especially props, and play a bit more with the light. I am always thinking about whether something is distracting me, is my eye being pulled away to something else. If it is and it is not to the thing you are selling then you need to rethink. Everything must be focused on enhancing the subject. 

Planque restaurant shot by Ellen Christina Hancock for The Modern House

Q: What other brand(s) have visual storytelling that you particularly love?

I am particularly invested in brands that keep me looking at their content and products. I may not be able to afford their product yet, or I haven’t visited the city they are in but they stay ever present in my mind as an aspiration and thing that I can envisage adding joy to my life. Most of the time this is because they are showing the time, effort and skill that goes into their product.

I love seeing how things are made, the materials used, where they found the materials, the techniques they use - I am ever curious and brands that show this kind of content will always have my interest. 

Runaway Bicycle is a constant source of inspiration for me. It is all about the handmade. It is about them as people and the community that supports them. 

I think restaurants are doing really well at promoting themselves at the moment. Albers is a new restaurant in London and they share really joyful humorous posts that really appeal - I adore this video. I haven’t eaten there yet but am desperate to try. Bistro Freddie also share very relaxed videos on how they make their dishes - they are consistent and very alluring! 

I always love to see work by Studio Lineatur. Again, they share their process a lot, mood boards, construction site images. We see the team a lot, just doing their thing and they put a lot of time and energy into creating really beautiful imagery but of the whole process not just finished product. I would love to be their friends which I always think is a good sign!

Q: What’s the next chapter for you?

My main goal is always to keep learning - I still feel at the very beginning of things. With video I have much more to learn practically and with photography I feel there is still so much more to explore, especially with portraiture. 

I would also like to develop a few more personal projects. I am working on one at the moment exploring wool - its journey from sheep to loom, in collaboration with Nancy Nicholson and I would like very much to do more things like this. 

Lastly I am always seeking a way that my work can offer some good back into the world. I think perhaps this is taking on a more documentary journalistic stance and this is something I would like to explore within both photography and film. 

Thank you to Ellen for her beautiful answers and sharing her insights on visual brand storytelling - we have been left feeling very inspired. You can find Ellen’s latest work on her website and follow along with her story on Instagram.

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Want to discover more brilliant brands? The stories continue on Instagram @simplemattersmedia and sign up for our monthly newsletter ‘StoryWorks’

The Art of Brand Storytelling with WAX Atelier

“We imagine stories before we do anything.

The story is definitely the beginning, and it runs all the way through.”

Image shot by Aloha Bonser-Shaw, all images courtesy of WAX Atelier

Wax Works: A Story Of Light And Delight.

In this enlightening conversation, we talk to WAX Atelier co-founder Lola Lely about discovering the warm and fragrant world of wax, the importance of fostering connections and collaboration, and why everything begins with imagining the story.

WAX Atelier is a London-based studio created in 2017 by Lola and Yesenia Thibault-Picazo. Using natural materials and traditional techniques, they make hand-dipped candles and a seasonal collection of distinctive wax-based objects and textiles.

Their goods are stocked worldwide. They’ve collaborated with Toast, Liberty, and Burberry and created a wax sculpture for the Royal Academy of Arts.

Read on to discover the creative joy of exploring one material, the challenges of scaling an intentionally slow business and the importance of nurturing young talent through ancient craft.

Q: I’m curious why you are so fascinated and obsessed with wax. What is it about the material and why did you choose it as the one you wanted to work with?

A: WAX Atelier was founded in 2017 by Yusenia and me. We both come from a design and craft background. Craft wasn't what we studied, but this is where we found our interest and curiosity because we both explore ideas through materiality and making. 

Craft led us into the world of all these fascinating traditions and materials that have been around forever. How we came to wax was through our teaching roles. We both taught at Central Saint Martins on a course called ‘Material Futures’. One of the briefs to the students was to choose a material and really go into depth, to understand everything about it from its cultural history to its future potential. 

The outcome was so interesting that we became fascinated with that approach. We’ve never given ourselves that kind of task and that sort of focus to look at a material and really understand its breadth and what its future possibility could be.

So we both discussed what material we could look at, which had been overlooked, perhaps, or something that was almost in front of us that we hadn't really thought about very much. We came to the conclusion that wax featured in both our works, many times on different projects. 

So we said, well, it must be wax. 

Once we started thinking about wax, I thought, actually, this is such a universal material. Everyone knows what wax is and what a candle is. But I bet you nobody actually really knows the material or has touched the raw material, including ourselves. That's when we really went deep into it and decided to find some wax and to start playing with it. 

Luckily for us, just around the corner from our workshop is a beekeeper - The London Honeyman and he gave us some wax and we just thought this was an incredible material because it features in so many different disciplines from food to fine arts to everyday households and we just said, okay, so let's start exploring wax. And it all took off from there. 

We learned how to make our first candles. We looked on YouTube and found all of these obscure videos about people making candles in their backyards. So we invented some tools of our own, started making some candles, and just found the whole material fascinating. 

After that, we held some workshops. We like to share our craft and see how other people engage with it.

From then on, it's just become something much bigger and broader than we imagined. It's turned into a business, but it has created opportunities for ourselves, the brand, and other people in the community. Since 2017, lots of people have come through our doors, whether through collaborations with brands or through employing and training local people.

When we're working with others, it's the vehicle for us to connect with other people. Making is so tangible and tactile, which is something we're losing more and more because lots of people aren't connected to materials or making anymore, and so much is digital now. 

We've shown that it's beyond fun, you can turn it to business as well.

Q: I'm very interested in the stories of brands and particularly with makers and people that are really skilful at something and have really mastered a particular craft. I was interested in the meaning of candles. If we focus on that as the main way people encounter or think of wax. There's so much significance, isn't there, to candles in our cultures and in our daily lives and the way we use them, is that something you've looked into?

Definitely. We always consider the user experience and rituals and traditions because having a ritual connects you to moments, the past, and the present. Also, you can create new rituals that are completely your own. 

Our starting point was something very traditional. We're always looking or thinking about the way we live now and the potential of how we could live and our spaces in the future. That's where we create new products or have a twist on something traditional to create something innovative. It's always going backwards and forwards and having those cross-references, which intrigues us. 

It's a bit of anthropology, so you've got this candle, but now we have lighting, we turn on a light bulb and you get bright light, and the candlelight isn't as strong as, say, a light bulb, but it gives you a different type of light and it creates a different type of mood. Candlelight really does create a different atmosphere. Or if you light a candle early in the morning, it does something, it sort of opens up another realm and a different kind of perspective. 

It's perishable, and it's precious. Some people say they don't want to burn their candles because they’re too precious. But when you do it, you realise the beauty of things. Sometimes, you have to lose things as well. But then, on the reverse side, we make these wax flowers. It's a bit of a dialogue about things that are to be thrown away. We want to create a really lifelike flower that lasts almost forever, that goes against cut flowers. 

So we’re always slightly controversial in a very light way, where we're sort of saying the opposite of things, because we want to make a point of that. But we try to do it in a beautiful and functional way by just making people think, and because we've come from a place of naivety as well.

Q: I love that you still have that same curiosity for what else is possible. You're always approaching everything with that thought and interest. We've covered the craft side of WAX Atelier really beautifully. I'm interested in how you balance that with the commercial parts of the business. It’s been really interesting to watch how you've grown and to see the success you're having. But how do you balance this very slow, thoughtful, beautiful craft that you're doing with the realities and practicalities of making it a business?

Well, in terms of the practicality, we've had to upscale quite a bit. It's still handmade, but the actual tools that we have are scaled-up versions of what we were doing when we were making a batch of five candles. So we've just had to design things. We have this carousel, it's almost like a contraption basically, it goes around and around, and then you have its cantilevers, and we designed that and got that made in Denmark. It's looking at our tools and thinking about problem-solving and finding ways of making the process more efficient for us without compromising on the quality.  We had to think about maintaining the craft, but also commercially and on a humanitarian level.

We’re always thinking about how we can improve, how we can do things better. By default, I think that’s helped us produce more candles or products because the orders started to come in. It's really lovely to have people like your products and want to buy them.

Q: From a brand story point of view, your storytelling hasn't changed. It’s so consistent and still feels very personal, slow and beautiful. How have you managed to maintain that despite scaling up?

From day one, we've always been like that, maybe sometimes to our detriment, where we imagine stories before we do anything.

We're very visual people, and thankfully, because we have a design and practical background, we can make certain things a reality. We've got lots of different skill sets in the studio — a photographer, a designer, makers, and people who can write and speak well. We're a team of just five people, but it feels very natural. It's the business side that we've had to learn to navigate rather than the design and storytelling side.

Q: I love the expression you used of ‘imagining the stories at the beginning.’ Can you tell me a bit more about that? Is it the final product or how you present it to people? 

The story is definitely the beginning, and it runs all the way through. In the beginning we're influenced by lots of different things in terms of our cultural background and where we live in East London. It's very multicultural, history, film, theatre, all these sorts of things we pick up and we have a conversation about, and it's just the way we work; it's very collaborative. These ideas almost percolate and build on it, and then it's always based on what we feel we would like to manifest.

We don’t ever think, ‘Oh, you know, maybe people would like this’, we don’t ever say that to ourselves when we decide to do something; we're very impractical. We just think, ‘Oh, we like that’ and therefore we just go and do it. 

Then we buckle down and get to the practicalities, and we do things on a shoestring most of the time. There has been no investment in our business; we've just done everything with our own money from our own pockets, and we give it a shot and see where it goes.

When people ask us where the ideas come from, that's where - we give ourselves time to reflect and allow inspiration to come. Then we just go and do it and see what happens. If it’s successful then great we'll make another batch, but if not, it doesn't matter we still enjoy just doing it.

We’ve been quite lucky most of the things that we've tried out it's been really well received. 

Q: I think that can be really helpful to creative people running businesses. There can be so much pressure as you've got to think of the market, and actually, your confidence and clarity of your purpose and vision are obviously so strong that you can create things with this sense of risk and freedom that you believe and trust in it. When you're willing to go all in and not doubt or compromise, it creates something that's so much stronger and really resonates.

Definitely. There are a few brands out there that we've encountered that are doing great work. But most of the time, we don't look outside. A business guru would probably say you should do your market research, you should look at everything, but sometimes you shouldn't because the minute you do that, you start to self-doubt, and it's quite intimidating. I mean, you can look all day. And I think sometimes it’s good to think about what you would want. 

We would never release anything or do anything that we didn't enjoy or thought didn’t have some sort of value or purpose to us. That has been our philosophy from day one, and it hasn't changed. That is why we just really like coming to work and doing what we're doing. 

Q: What's the next chapter for the WAX Atelier story? What's the thing that you're curious about at the moment and that you're experimenting with?

The next chapter is that we have a new premises in Abney Park in Stoke Newington, that was granted to us by Hackney Council and the Abney Park Trust. It's a place where we are going to create and interact and engage more with the public. So that's very exciting. It's going to be an experimental space and it's right in the middle of the cemetery so we'll see the changing seasons as there are about 180 species of trees in the park. And there's all this history in terms of the people who were in the artistic community who lived here and they are buried in the cemetery. So it has quite a powerful history and narrative with the nature around it. 

Our first project is going to be with young people between the ages of 18 to 24. We're going to be working with them, with the raw materials and inspiration from the Park to create a collection of unique things. We can't say what yet, but it's going to be really interesting. Collaborating with that age group is going to be interesting because they've got a lot of ideas, but also a lot of challenges. So we're really keen to tap in and cross-pollinate ideas and create something new for us as well 

And the other new chapter is that WAX Atelier will be delving into the world of aromatics. So we're looking at one species - which is going to be the orange - and we're going to explore it in all its different guises to create a collection of very naturally fragrant things. 

Q: I love the way you say things with the openness to what that might be. You mentioned you don’t like to look at what your competitors are doing but are there other brands, perhaps in totally different industries that you really love, particularly in terms of storytelling? 

There's a collective called Assemble, they’re taking architecture into art and into this whole culture of making and living. They're so interesting. They are curators at the Royal Academy of Arts this year, and they won a Turner Prize. It's interesting how thinking of the practice that is about the built environment, but can steer and veer into all sorts of directions. But there's definitely a running thread, and you make connections.

The other brand is Ffern. We love that they work with the seasons, launching projects, creating beautiful films and the narrative around it all is quite special. We’ve had a conversation with them in the past about collaborating, so there’s definitely something there, a synergy between us. I think they work in a very inventive and imaginative, but also sensitive, way. And you can feel that through their imagery and the product is very special.

Thank you to Lola for taking time to share her insights on how they approach so many aspects of their business, it was such an interesting and inspiring conversation. You can find WAX Atelier’s latest work on their website and follow along with their story on Instagram.

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The Art Of Creative Brand Storytelling With Potter Jacques Monneraud

All images courtesy of Jacques Monneraud

This story begins with a simple Malteser chocolate.

Jacques placed the little brown ball on a pottery wheel and slowly shaped it into a tiny vase. I smiled watching the Instagram film, then laughed out loud when he ate the ‘vase’.

That playful video has since had over 1.5 million views.

Frenchman Jacques Monneraud shares and sells his pottery with brilliantly crafted storytelling full of delight and wonder.

"The world of ideas is a bit like the one of dreams," Jacques muses. "I constantly ask myself…'What would make me fall in love with ceramics although I don't care about it?'"

With a background in advertising, Jacques understands the power of brand storytelling. In this Q&A, he generously shares his creative process, his humility and humour belying the thought, talent, and effort involved.

I'm thrilled to share this conversation with you.

Q: Before studying ceramics, you worked for 12 years in the advertising industry. Can you tell us the story of how and why you left that all behind to become a ceramist? And what drew you to working with clay?

I started as a graphic designer/illustrator and quickly became a Creative Director in an advertising company. During those years, I gradually drifted away from what I loved to do in the first place, which was creating. As someone who grew up in a family of artists and makers, I always pictured myself working with my hands someday. But here I was, spending hours in meetings discussing brand strategies. When I realised that, I decided that it was time to give this dream a try. After a few months searching for this "maker job", I stumbled upon a video of someone working at the potter's wheel. It randomly appeared on my feed and totally caught me off guard. I was instantly hooked. I loved everything about it, the material, the fact that it's just you and a lump of mud, the variety of things you can make out of it... I booked a class the same day and quit my job a few weeks later. 

Q: Your creativity comes across in everything you do, from the innovative designs of your ceramics to the playful way you present them, with product descriptions full of character and the stories you tell in the films you share on Instagram. Where do your ideas come from, and how do you approach the development and innovation required to bring those ideas to life?

That's a tricky question. The world of ideas is a bit like the one of dreams. Of course there are ways to find a creative idea. You can approach a subject from different angles in order to make it look funny, original, crazy etc, depending on the message you want to convey. But it would be very hard to dissect and analyse all the brain connections that play a role in the birth of an idea.

I constantly ask myself the following questions: What would I love to see/watch/touch/read? What would be so cool that I'd want to share it? What would make me smile? What would make me fall in love with ceramics although I don't care about it? Because at the end of the day, it all boils down to you and someone else's interest.

As for bringing those ideas to life, it depends... Some projects are easy to make and others very hard. But whichever it is, I always start with the same state of mind, the one of MacGyver (I loved that show when I was a kid). You have to pick a lock with just a chewing-gum? Okay. Let's find a way. 

Q: The cardboard series is incredible. I remember the first time I saw the pieces, I couldn‘t believe they were made of clay. The attention to detail of the glaze that looks like tape is so clever and skilful. Can you share the story of the process of that collection? It’s such an original idea, and it must have been so hard to get right. Were there moments when you questioned if it would work?

Thank you :) I must say that research is part of my daily routine, in parallel to my more classic tableware pieces. I'm always exploring ideas. I like to open doors, even though they end up nowhere. I have dozens of unfinished projects and ideas. As for the cardboard, it's failure that pushed me towards this collection. I was unsuccessfully trying to obtain a specific glaze effect that I love, so I started thinking about a ‘raw collection’, made of unglazed pieces. From that moment on, I started to explore different clays and combinations of clays mixed together, with no particular idea in mind other than finding a nice balance between colour and texture.

One day, I obtained a mix that made me think of a cardboard chunk. I thought about pushing it further and because I have always been very sensitive to things that time deteriorates, things that don't last, I instantly loved the paradoxical nature of this project: unalterable cardboard. I really liked the idea of ​​being able to freeze fragility.

From that moment on, I did dozens of tests, be it about the colour, the texture, the optical illusion, the fragility, etc. Until one day, a ceramist friend of mine drops by and, staring at a ceramic prototype, says "oh you're working with cardboard now?". It was a small coffee cup and she was just centimetres away from it. I thought to myself ‘time has come to make a real collection out of this’. 

Q: For someone relatively new to their craft, you seem unafraid of setting yourself challenges. Creating the Roland Garros trophy using the clay of the Philippe-Chatrier centre court is a brilliantly ambitious idea. Can you tell us more about the King of Clay project and the film you made, which has had two million views on Instagram?

This illustrates what I was trying to say earlier about creativity and its mysterious ways... One day you buy some Mentos, and a few days later you buy a can of Coke. You fall asleep and when you wake up, your brain suggests that you put the Mentos in the can of Coke. You've made no effort to think about it, yet the idea is here. I've always loved tennis and I watched every game of Rafael Nadal. That's the Mentos. A few years later, I was researching ceramics and read this surprising story: tennis clay was invented by two players who decided to crush vases from Vallauris. And that's the Coke can...  

It quickly became clear that, for the idea to be pure, the clay had to come from the real Parisian court. This was my first challenge. With no connections whatsoever to the Tennis world, I thought that I could better my chances with a prototype, so that's the first thing I made.

Once I had it, I knew that the time of the people I was trying to reach was precious, and that I'd need a strong, clear presentation. With the help of a talented friend, I created a mobile website to explain the project. By doing so I ensured that the idea wouldn't be distorted along the way.

From this point on, I followed the "six handshakes rule" (the idea that all people are six or fewer social connections away from each other), and started making phone calls. It actually took me a lot more than six friends but I eventually found a way to reach Roland-Garros' staff. They loved the idea and sent me several kilos of the real clay.

Then the biggest challenge started... because until then I had completely underestimated the complexity of the trophy. In the video, I say that I really came close to giving up. It's sincere. The only thing that kept me going is the "I've gone too far to give up now" feeling. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about :). 

Replica of the Roland-Garros trophy using the clay of the Philippe-Chatrier center court. It took Jacques one year and five months to complete. Within the first 24 hours the full film (which you can watch on his Instagram) was viewed half a million times.

Q: Ceramics have such a high risk of failure - from the modelling to the firing to the drying process - so much can go wrong. It must take a lot of bravery to undertake some of your projects. How do you cope with the failures, mistakes and setbacks?

Not well! When I first started working in advertising, my teammate and I created an ad where you see Jesus walking toward water and, although you expect him to walk on it, he eventually drowns. The copy was saying this: ‘There is no miracle. Just a lot of work.’ To this day, I still think it's very true.

People tend to believe that working with clay is relaxing and that quitting your job to become a ceramist will allow you to have more time to yourself... It's the complete opposite. In fact, I dare you to find a job this hard, where you need to turn mud into gold every day and be both Steves at the same time (Wozniak and Jobs).

How do I cope with failures and setbacks? I listen to Kendrick Lamar, read the Harvard Business Review and watch Little House on the Prairie. It goes something like this: Stay humble, work hard and be nice. 

Q: You are a talented storyteller. There’s a playful quality to everything you share, and you often talk about a ‘touch of foolishness’ - can you tell us more about why you take that approach? Does it help creativity to have fun and not take it too seriously?

First of all, I think that unless you're a doctor in South Sudan fighting hunger and poverty (my younger brother does that), nothing is serious.

Then, I choose to base my business on social media platforms. Not because I like them, but because in my opinion, it would be a big mistake to close a door to the whole world when you aim to sell things.

Today, these platforms are all about entertainment! How can you have fun watching my content if I'm not having fun making it?

There is this ad agency mantra that I love, "We're not invited to the party, so at least let us bring some champagne". 

Q: Your films are brilliantly entertaining to watch, and it seems like you enjoy making them, but they’re also so well produced - they must take a lot of time to plan, film, and edit. Artists and makers often struggle to balance the time they spend creating versus the time they give to marketing and selling their work. How do you manage the creative side of your business and the more commercial aspects?

I do enjoy making them :) I would have loved to be a film director, but I'm way too shy. I know that what I'm about to write here will annoy some people, but nowadays, being a ceramist is 30% being a good maker and 70% being a good salesman. I knew that before I started and that's probably why I took the leap. After years selling things I can focus on becoming a good maker. It's impossible, but I want that balance to be 100%-100%. 

Q With your background in advertising, why do you think storytelling is important to a business and selling? What do you think makes a great brand story?

We used to buy products. But now that we have made so many of them, in every colour or material possible, we want them to come with a story. It's one of the few good aspects of our society, because we tend to give more attention to what we buy and own. I think that brands shouldn't be so different from people, and the same goes for their story. Burger King is a funny dude you know, Nike is someone who inspires you, Apple is your crush and Patagonia is the friend you respect... A good brand story is a true and honest one. A great brand story is one in which there is also audacity, courage and loyalty.

Q Are there any other brand stories that you especially admire and enjoy?

I recently discovered this French brand named Kidur and beyond its exceptional products, I particularly loved its story. Two Frenchmen set up this fabric company just before the Second World War. During the German occupation, they hid Allied soldiers and used the company's premises for resistance work. Once the war was over, it was the foreign soldiers who helped the company get through the fabric shortage that hit Europe. The brand survived and thanks to Kidur, the whole region prospered. Magnificent. 

Q What advice would you give someone wanting to change career and industry and follow a creative passion in the way you have? Is there anything you wish you’d known when you first started out or that you would do differently?

I'm tempted to say "Just do it". But Dan Wieden once explained where the inspiration for the famous Nike "Just do it" came from. It was inspired by the final words of a death row inmate who was facing execution and said, "You know, let's do it." So... I don't know. Depending on your situation, I think it's a bit more complicated than the usual "life's too short, let's go!". If you allow me I'll rather leave this decision to them and say this: If you did "just do it" and changed career, do "think different". 

Thanks to Jacques for taking the time to share his thoughts and insights with us in this interview. You can find Jacques’ latest work on his website and follow along with his story on Instagram.

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Brilliant Brand Stories of Creativity

From around the world, each in a different industry, all committed to daring to do business differently.

Cat Spilman ‘Mama’, image with permission from the artist

1. “to lose that sense of self-consciousness, that anxiety for perfection”

Artist - Cat Spilman

For Cat Spilman, painting is a meditative process, where rather than having any preconceived idea on how the piece should look, it is instead an expression of a particular moment and feeling.

In this way, each painting becomes a kind of self-portrait, 

“They’re all snapshots of who I am in the moment and what I’m dealing with… When I’m painting I’m not trying to paint with any kind of message or specific thought in mind, I’m just painting based on how I’m feeling in the moment. Then when I look at the painting days or weeks later, I can see what that was about.”

Cat Spilman in her studio with ‘The Cineman’, image shared with permission from the artist

Using mainly housepaint and house painting brushes - originating from her background as a scenic artist in film and television - Spilman consciously limits her colour palette to encourage creativity in her work.

Part of her practice involves attempting to let go of any expectation or self-criticism and she is endlessly inspired by the innate creativity of her own daughter. 

“I used to be so precious with sketchbooks. If a page wasn’t aesthetically successful I would tear it out and feel upset and annoyed with the process. Now I buy thick, cheap notebooks and try to be as loose as possible - ignoring pages that are ugly and just taking inspiration from the tiny bits that do work. One of my goals is to lose that sense of self-consciousness, that anxiety for perfection. It hasn’t happened yet…”

Spilman’s current solo exhibition is "Days in Goodness Spent" at Bark Berlin Gallery. She also has a group show opening in Copenhagen at Gallerie Christoffer Egelund on the 21st of June.

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Images with permission from London Cloth Co, shot by Carmel King.

2. “No one parties like a weaver”

Weaving & textiles - London Cloth Company

London Cloth Company is the brainchild of Daniel Harris who, completely self-taught, made it his mission to rescue and restore a number of original looms dating as far back at 1890. He opened the first mill in London for over a century and is currently restoring Elvet Mill in West Wales back to its former glory. Daniel now has the largest collection of restored looms in Europe.

He shares his journey on Instagram with honesty and humour. From the highs:

 “It’s go time. The day we made a warp and started weaving on a loom that had sat for over 30 years.”

to the lows: “I cannot even begin to list all the nightmarish things about setting up this loom.”

Images with permission from London Cloth Co, shot by Carmel King.

It is Harris’ creativity that has got him where he is today and it shines through across all parts of the business, from the products he makes, to his Instagram captions to the heroic job of dismantling and reassembling the often rusting, neglected machinery that has sat unused for over 30 years and get it working once again.

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Food portrait of Camilla Wordie’s grandmother, photography by Natasha Alipour-Faridani

3. “moving objects by millimetres, adjusting angles by the degree”

Art director and stylist - Camilla Wordie

Camilla Wordie understands it’s the little details that make a big difference. Whether the micro-adjustments in styling a shoot to how the small habits in our everyday lives can spark conversation, connection and joy with others. 

Inspired by routine and daily life, Wordie uses everyday objects to tell the stories behind her compositions with a playful yet minimal aesthetic.

One such example is Wordie’s brilliant recent exhibition ‘Eat to Live or Live to Eat’, where she interviewed 10 individuals, from artists to shop owners, designers, chefs and storytellers to learn their food habits. Based on each interview, Wordie created a ‘food portrait’, telling the stories of each person’s food habits, memories and the 10 ingredients they couldn’t live without.

Portrait of art director and stylist Camilla Wordie

“From anchovies to tinned peaches, ingredients you may love or hate”

Prints, plates and postcards from the exhibition can be viewed and bought online here. 

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Rosa Harradine in her studio in Wales

4. “slightly wonky with a beautiful indentation along the handle where a vine has grown around the hazel”

Brush and broom maker - Rosa Harradine 

All Rosa Harradine’s brushes and brooms are made entirely by hand in her studio in West Wales. From sorting the broomcorn, cutting the sticks for handles, carving, sanding oiling, binding and finally stitching. The only mechanised part of the process is using a small chainsaw to cut the sticks for broom handles.

“I measure every piece of broomcorn by hand and sort it by length, and then quality. The scruffiest bits go on the hidden inside layers and the nicest pieces go on the outside. I stand at my workbench in front of the window and listen to a podcast as every single piece of broomcorn passes through my fingers.”

Image shared with permission, shot by Tara Juno Rowse

For Harradine, it is essential that her items are both functional and beautiful in their own right. Designed to feel tactile, something someone doesn’t want to put down (or put away), intended to be used just as much as admired hung on a wall.

As Harradine so beautifully puts it, “There are two types of people in this world. Those who think a brush would make a great present, and those who don’t”. 

I am certainly one of the former.  

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