The tea master who took up glass
This kettle is blown by hand in Liuzhou, Guangxi, a region whose tea culture runs as deep as its glass-making heritage. Electronic kettles arrived and we use them, but something is lost — the intimate conversation between flame, glass, and water. The workshop gathers, blows, and shapes borosilicate to a single obsession: a kettle that lets the user read water like a poem.
Each 1.2L kettle emerges from a small studio, hand-blown by the maker himself. The walls are slightly thicker at the base, thinner toward the neck, a profile that encourages an even, steady boil. The spout is drawn in one seamless motion — no seams, no joints — and the handle is fitted while the glass still glows, creating an unbreakable bond. Because the maker is a tea master first, he knows that water is never just water. Visible bubble stages are his language, and this kettle is his grammar. He makes only a few dozen each year, each one numbered and signed with a tiny glass mark. For those who would rather see the temperature than set it, it is a quiet rebellion against the digital kitchen.