sculpting · Ardèche· france
Yasmin Bawa
Tell us a bit about yourself and your background.
I’m a sculptor based in Ardèche, France. My work plays with material, form, and energy, creating objects that can be both functional and purely sculptural. My practice is closely connected to my surroundings, often reflecting the rhythm of the environment and the moment of creation. I originally studied fashion in London and worked in shoe design for a few years before leaving the industry to focus on my own work. In 2018, I set up my studio in Berlin, and two years ago my partner and I moved to the south of France.
What first drew you to sculpture?
I was drawn to sculpture because it let me work with my hands in a way that felt both grounding and freeing. There’s something immediate and alive in shaping a form, a kind of dialogue between your body and the material. Over time, I realised that sculpture is almost like another language for me. It became a way for me to explore ideas, memories, and my current energetic feelings, giving them a tangible form and allowing me to engage with them in a very physical and present way. I love to work intuitively and just allow the forms to be channeled from my body and through my hands.
Could you walk us through your creative process?
I usually start with quick sketches just to capture the general direction of the form in my mind. From there, I move straight into three dimensions, often starting to work directly at 1:1 scale. For larger pieces I will sometimes make a smaller model first.
I need to also first decide whether an internal metal structure is needed and after that I start building up the internal body of the sculpture with hemp and lime. Then I add layers of lime plaster, gradually I refine the form with progressively finer types of lime plater. The final layer is a polished lime plaster that’s both hard-wearing and water-resistant. This is also when I introduce pigments to bring in the colours I’ve imagined. The whole process is very tactile, and each stage allows me to respond to the material and the energy of the piece as it develops. The final stage of polishing is my interpretation of the Moroccan technique of tadelakt, where the plaster is compressed and polished with a stone, this part of the process requires a lot of skill and patiences, but its also my favourite part!
How do you think the places, people, and traditions where you grew up are now manifesting in your craft?
I grew up between different cultures and countries, and that experience gave me a sensitivity to the ideas of roots and belonging. I am half Indian and this is a part of me that has taught me a lot about ritual and brought the more spiritual side to my being. These threads naturally find their way into my work.
Living now in Ardèche has deepened this exploration. The landscape here carries an ancient presence as it holds some of the earliest traces of human creativity. Being close to that history while also working with natural materials connects me back to traditions of making that feel both ancient and alive.
In your current exploration, hemp lime, a blend of hemp shiv and lime binder that embodies strength and renewability, plays an important role. Could you share more about its impact on your practice and the way you think about materials?
Discovering hemp lime was a turning point in my work. I had started experimenting with concrete but stepped away from it because of environmental and health concerns. Finding a material that could offer a similar strength and finish, while also aligning with my values, was transformative.
Hemp lime quickly became central to my practice. It is both humble and powerful. The slow, layered way of working with it has changed how I think about sustainability, not only in ecological terms but also in relation to time, rhythm, and process.
How does your physical connection with the materials impact you personally, and how does it shape your sense of creative fulfillment?
Working with hemp and lime is physical, almost like a ritual. The mixing, the layering, the weight of it, all of that grounds me in my body. It mirrors what I explore in meditation, creating a balance between inner and outer worlds. I really loose myself into time when I am working with the material and especially when I am doing the final polishing layer. The fact that my process can allow me to enter such a state of flow gives a very deep sense of creative fulfilment.
In the contemporary context, where do you see the greatest potential for preserving important local crafts?
Supporting local makers, valuing their knowledge is key. It can also mean giving space for those skills to adapt and evolve as it’s not about preserving something in a fixed state but allowing it to breathe and continue as a living tradition. For example all of the materials and processes I am using are incredible old, however I have felt the freedom to interpret them and use them in my own way. Preservation can happen through reinterpretation. Artists and makers who draw from these traditions and bring them into contemporary dialogues keep them relevant, connected, and resilient.
Are there any new directions or projects you’re currently exploring that you’re particularly excited about?
I’m beginning work on a few larger scale pieces, which I’m very excited about. I’m also developing a new finish that can withstand the outdoors, with the aim of creating a sculpture for exterior spaces. Creating a public work is a dream I’ve carried for a long time, and I hope to bring it to life soon.
Where and how can people engage more with your work or learn about your upcoming pieces?
I share news about exhibitions and projects on my website and Instagram. My sculptures are also represented by Galerie Sainte Anne in Paris and Objet Inanimé in Marseille. I always encourage people to experience the works in person whenever possible, as their presence, weight, and texture are hard to fully translate through images.