Fée Halsted-Berning lives in the lush, rolling hills a little north of Maritzburg, where rivers tumble along on either side of her house through endless stretches of green. This part of the countryside, the Caversham Valley – where every second building is a guesthouse or cheese shop or crafts centre – is utterly enchanting.

Fée’s seven-hectare property used to be a lavender farm. Today, Lavendula is the site of her studios, stables, gallery, some of Ardmore’s ceramic artists, and the thatched, terra-cotta-coloured country house in which she’s lived with her children for the past few years.

Fée is a free-ranging, creative spirit, and the house is the sort of magical, slightly chaotic abode that she might have designed herself. It is, in fact, the creation of the original owner. ‘The lavender farmer, Jan Delport, was also Dutch. It’s a roots thing,’ explains Fée, whose blood contains a strong mix of Dutch and Viking.

Yet the place has a distinctly Old English countryside feel. Deep eaves hang from the tall thatched roof over the grey flagstones. The walls are roughly plastered, and the wooden sash windows appear as if they’ve been here forever, shuttering themselves against endless Midlands winter nights. The rose garden is protected by a stone wall, and even features a thatched dovecote. Among the throng of poppies, snapdragons and pansies that spill out over the gravel pathways there is a pond, complete with a single giant Ardmore carp.

Inside, it’s all soaring, open thatch and double-volume spaces, with some of the bedrooms located in the roof. The living room is as high as a church and as richly textured as a Rembrandt: handmade, dark, ancient-looking quarry tiles on the floor, covered with Oriental carpets, kelims and the occasional Nguni cowhide. Fortunately, there’s a huge stone fireplace in the livingroom to keep the place warm. The collection of Dutch-style furniture – reminiscent of the type Fée grew up with in her native Zimbabwe – includes lovely old burnished wooden dressers and cabinets that are filled with blue Delft china.

Jan Delport incorporated some unique, historic features into Lavendula when he built it 15 years ago. He fitted the kitchen with a large church window, and old taps from the Orient Express. The sandblasted doors from the bar of Maritzburg’s old Victoria Club have found a new purpose as the kitchen entrance, while other remnants from the club, namely its cast-iron balustrades and Oregon pine staircase, service one of the attic bedrooms.

What really makes this house distinctive, though, is the collection of ceramics within its walls. Ardmore Ceramics, launched two decades ago in the Champagne Valley of the Drakensberg, is the largest ceramic art studio in South Africa. Under Fée’s guidance, a large team of self-employed Zulu artists uses the infrastructure to produce an extraordinary body of work that depicts local fauna and flora in a manner that’s both unique and quirky.

Since Fée and Bonnie Ntshalintshali established Ardmore Ceramics in 1985, it has captured the attention of collectors worldwide. One American, a Coca-Cola heiress, has 700 Ardmore pieces. Fetching previously unheard-of prices for South African ceramics, Ardmore is now both a brand and a national treasure.

The Ardmore collection in Fée’s house includes several huge jugs, vases, tureens and bowls that, unlike smaller, mainstream pieces, are more sculptural than functional, and the creatures they depict, such as porcupines, hyenas, insects and fish, aren’t among the traditional litany of Ardmore subjects. They provide for a striking change of pace from the eternally seductive commercial favourites, which tend towards African beasts of popular mythology, like elephants and lions, as well as towards those charming, patterned creations of the Great Designer, namely zebras, leopards and giraffes.

Some pieces are here because Fée won’t part with them, and there’s a story behind each one. ‘That giant chameleon is the last thing Miriam [Ngubeni, an Ardmore artist who died of Aids in 2002] painted before she died. I won’t sell it,’ Fée says of a colossal, delightful, bug-eyed creature complete with ever-ready tongue, which doubles as a soup tureen. Aids has claimed the lives of 20 of Ardmore’s artists over the years. Their portraits are on plates that hang on the walls of the gallery – a poignant and lasting memorial.

On a table by the sofa is another rare and special bowl. This large black-and-white porcupine lying on its back didn’t get the price Fée thought it deserved at the Christie’s auction in London last year. So, she brought it back. ‘This porcupine involved a lot of experimentation on the part of the artist, with no input from me. I find it really exciting. It’s an extraordinary work, not just a commodity, and it deserves honour,’ Fée declares.
One huge bowl covered with impala lilies and prancing impalas was created for the Oppenheimers’ game lodge, Tswalu. It was commissioned by Chris Greig, whose family jewellery chain sells Ardmore Ceramics. But he found it ‘too pink’, so it, too, is back at home.

On a totally different stretch of turf are three naked, androgynous figures made by early Ardmore artist, Josephine Ghesa. Fée has three of Josephine’s sculptures in her living room, all strangely compelling, with mask-like faces that bring to mind statues of old China. Fée taught Josephine the basics. ‘As with most of our artists who work either with clay or with paint, but not usually both, Josephine did the initial clay modelling and left the firing, painting and colouring to us,’ says Fée. ‘We painted them the traditional Zulu way, with red boot polish followed by poster paint.’ Josephine has since gone her own way, and has won the first Brett Kebble Art Award for her sculpture, Man Eaten By Fish.
On the mantelpiece, alongside a naked ‘Josephine’ figure sitting astride a horse, is another naked female figure sitting on a cow. This is one of Fée’s own works. ‘That’s me: Boadicea, the Warrior Woman,’ she says. ‘You see she has several rows of nipples; that’s because I’m mother to so many people…’

Some of those whom Fée has nurtured can be spotted in the Michael Allard portrait, Tripping the Light Fantastic, which adorns one of the living room walls. The portrait shows Fée in cowgirl hat riding across the sky on horseback (making her way to Heaven?), while a group of Ardmore artists look up at her and wave.

Never fear – there’s room enough on the walls to accommodate some of Fée’s own work as well. Like the early clay piece hanging above the long Oregon-pine kitchen table. The piece, a circular collage that formed part of an exhibition that toured the country, was inspired by Fée’s determination to let go her colonial heritage. Fée fabricated an intriguing mishmash of Western artefacts, including bullets, broken bone-china teacups, and clay replicas of uniquely African objects, such as lions, Zulu dolls, Kariba bream, and a life-size Yoruba mask complete with springbok horns. ‘I put in the Staffordshire doll and broke its head off to symbolise Africa’s break with Britain,’ the maverick Fée points out with wry satisfaction.

The kitchen is where Fée and her family tend to congregate. Jonathan (21) visits the Midlands whenever he can break away from Stellenbosch, where he’s studying Finance. Catherine (19) is busy with her Fine Art degree at Maritzburg University, and Megan (15) is at St Anne’s in Hilton. Both girls are show-jumping champions.

All Fée’s children are steeped in the Ardmore culture. Not surprisingly, all three of them plan on eventually joining the family business, one way or another. Certainly, they would be hard-pressed to find a more inspiring environment.