The Artist’s Home of Annemieke Boots

In 2022, ceramic artist Annemieke Boots and her husband Marcel left Amsterdam behind for a quiet farmhouse in the Umbrian hills of Italy, where they now live with their dog Giotto. Surrounded by olive and fig groves, she has embraced a slower rhythm of life shaped by the land, the seasons, and the generosity of neighbors who share fruit, eggs, and honey. Days are balanced between clay, garden, and community—walking the countryside, harvesting olives for their own oil, and sharing an aperitivo with friends who feel like family. Speaking with her, I realized that her Artist’s Home does not exist only within the four walls of the farmhouse—it reaches into the landscape, the community, and is something she carries with her wherever she goes.

Bio
Visiting The Artists’ Home of Annemieke Boots
Annemiekes artistry: Ceramic Artist
Living in Umbria, Italy

You moved to Umbria in 2022. What drew you to Italy, and what made you feel it was the right time to leave Amsterdam?
When me and my husband cycled for two months in the summer of 2017, we spent the first month in Greece and then took the ferry to Brindisi, Italy. Arriving through the harbor, we passed some small streets and a little alimentari (a small neighborhood grocery shop). Nothing remarkable, yet for me it was meaningful — I felt at home. The scents, the light, the warmth… I knew this country was where I wanted to live.

During the Covid years, we spent months in the Swedish countryside. Although the colder North is not where I feel I belong, I discovered how much I love being in nature, outdoors in all weather. I started a small vegetable garden and that gave me a lot of pleasure. Returning to Amsterdam — back to my studio, back to the rush of the city — I felt lost. The pressure of society, the bricks and concrete around me, became unbearable. So when, in 2022, we were fortunate enough to buy an old farmhouse with some land in Italy, I knew immediately I could leave Amsterdam after more than 25 years. I had to leave.

What was the first moment you felt truly “at home” in Umbria?
Almost Instantly. The very first time we visited the farmhouse back in the late summer of 2021. Walking the land, I felt it. A few months later, when neighbors Cinzia and her mother-in-law Maria invited us for coffee in their large kitchen — where nonna Maria was making tagliatelle — I felt it again. It was this old house we bought, with its open, quiet energy, the garden with olive and fruit trees, the wide views of the mountains and the medieval town of Todi. This was home.

How has your daily rhythm changed since moving from city life to the countryside?
Completely. From working more than full-time as a potter in a crowded city, I now spend my days at a slower pace: long walks with our dog Giotto, working in the orto (vegetable garden) and woods, chatting with neighbors who have become friends. I spend less time in the atelier, which is also at home. Sometimes this gives me an uncomfortable feeling of being “useless,” yet it makes me deeply happy.

Your neighbors often share their harvest with you, and you do the same: figs, eggs, honey, vegetables. How has this sense of community shaped your life?
I’ve realized how generous people are here. When they bake something or come from their orto with baskets of fruit or vegetables, they always share. Passing by, you’re invited for a coffee — prendi un caffè. Or when I ask if I can pick figs from their trees, they always say: pick whatever you want, the fruit is there for everyone! There’s a natural habit of caring, helping, and sharing. It has made me more aware of how essential community is, of how important it is to belong to one.

What challenges have you faced in restoring an old farmhouse, and how do they mirror the creative process?
The restoration was… interesting. Chaos, delays, dust everywhere. Workers not showing up — yet somehow always finishing in time. You learn to let go, and in the end, everything works out. My ceramic work is changing too. I have ideas and visions, but they take time and patience to take form. It can be frustrating, but I trust this is part of a greater transformation — and that answers come naturally.

Picking olives, pressing your own oil, tending the garden — do these seasonal tasks influence your art?
Absolutely. I’ve realized everything has its own rhythm. You can’t rush the growth of a tree or plant and expect good fruit. Creativity is the same — you need time, balance, and inspiration.

How has the slower pace of life influenced your ceramics?
Large sets of plates and bowls for restaurants don’t suit me anymore. Now, I want to create a single cup as a ritual object for someone, or a vessel that brings stillness into a home. I like to connect with people, feel their energy, and create in that way. This approach is very different to what I have been doing before: producing. It simply doesn't fulfill me anymore.

Has working with your hands in the garden and home changed your relationship to clay?
Yes. Working with my hands in the garden gives me the same kind of fulfillment as working with clay. Living closer to nature has shown me that creativity can take many forms, and I spend less time at the wheel now.

Has learning to speak Italian deepened your connection with people and place?
It has! Language opens everything. It allows me to understand habits, rituals, jokes, even humor. It makes me feel truly integrated, more at home.

Looking back, what has this move taught you about yourself — and what excites you most now?
I’ve discovered I’m more diverse than I thought. I dare to be myself more fully. Looking to the near future, I feel I can truly be me. Moving to Italy, changing the way I live — yes, it was absolutely the right choice!

Follow Annemieke’s life and work via her Instagram page.