Inside El Qurna’s Alabaster Legacy: How An Eighth-Generation Family Keeps An Ancient Craft Alive

“I am the eighth generation here,” says Ahmed Ali Mohammed Elhofni, standing amid pale stone dust in his family-owned alabaster factory. “My family has been making alabaster pieces since the late eighteenth century, but the craft itself goes back to the time of the pharaohs. We opened Hapi at its present location in 1992.”

From Pharaohs’ Tombs To Living Workshops

I’d spent the morning inside the ornate tombs of Rameses IV, Merenptah, and Rameses IX, where pharaohs once prepared for the afterlife. Guide Refa Hassan particularly drew my attention to vessels—canopic jars used for preserving pharaohs’ organs—jewellery, and other ceremonial objects made of alabaster stone. “These objects represented the four sons of Horus and complex rituals and beliefs related to death and the afterlife,” says Hassan, pointing out that the most famous example is the lotus chalice carved from a single piece of alabaster. “It looks like a white lotus in full bloom. Its layers are so thin that it appears luminescent, bearing inscriptions for the eternal life of King Tutankhamun.”

“Yet, the story of alabaster doesn’t end in the tombs,” Hassan recounts as we leave. Ten minutes down a dust-blown road towards the east, we arrive in El Qurna, a cluster of villages on the Qurna plateau, somewhere between the Valley of the Kings and Deir el-Bahari. Locals call it the ‘Alabaster Street.’

The sun hangs mercilessly overhead. I stroll past several alabaster workshops before stopping at Ahmed’s factory—Hapi for Alabaster. A few men in long galabeyas stand mid-conversation. The floor, tiled in dull stone, absorbs dust—fine alabaster dust that settles quietly on shoes, seats, and skin. Dry, chalky air drifts from carved stone; ceiling fans hum against the desert heat, carrying the faint smell of cigarette smoke, while footsteps echo off the stone floor. Stacks of beige-brown plastic chairs are piled awkwardly, and low display platforms are covered with unfinished and finished alabaster pieces, everything hand-placed.

Across a massive section of the wall, a mural shows Egyptian men in white loincloths hammering and shaping alabaster, followed by step-by-step illustrations of how alabaster is formed, carved, and polished. In the extreme right corner, Ahmed Mohammed is chiselling, engaged in sculpture carving with a metal tool, while next to him Ramadan Komsan hammers a large calcite chunk. Above them, Arabic calligraphy stretches across the wall in deep blue, and the English text “Hapi for Alabaster” is painted in playful bold letters.

All of it—along with Egyptian icons such as the ankh, Queen Nefertiti, pharaonic heads, sun discs, hieroglyphic symbols, and a geometric flower-of-life pattern—creates a vision of hidden, unfiltered, and proud pop-art Egypt.

Stone, History, And Science

Nabil Bader, a professor at Zagazig University in Egypt, writes in the Egyptian Journal of Archaeological and Restoration Studies that “alabaster is an ornamental stone that was widely used in ancient Egypt, and it had many deterioration factors.” He explains that the name “alabaster” derives from the Ancient Egyptian word alabaste, which refers to vessels of the Egyptian goddess Bast, represented as a lioness and frequently depicted as such when placed atop these alabaster vessels. Bader notes that there are nine known ancient quarries for alabaster, all in Middle Egypt. Famous ones include Hatnub, Helwan, Asyut, Wadi Gerrawi, Wadi Araba, and El-Qawatir.

“The alabaster from these quarries was used in the sphinx of an 18th Dynasty king at Memphis, and the two alabaster barque shrines for the Dynasty kings Amenhotep I, Thutmose I, and Thutmose IV in Luxor’s Karnak Temple,” observes Bader. From these remote quarries, authentic Egyptian alabaster—a translucent form of calcite—was transported to royal workshops where master craftsmen transformed it into breathtaking forms. Berkeley archaeologists who documented alabaster workshops in this region in 1972 noted how the entire manufacturing sequence had remained remarkably consistent over the centuries.

Craft Passed Through Generations

Elhofni guides me to the first workstation, where Ahmed Mohammed methodically chips away at a rough block. “He is the first maker man,” Ahmed explains. “He makes vases, bowls, and statues.” Once the initial shape is defined, the piece is tightly wrapped in linen strips soaked in glue—an ancient technique used for centuries to protect the stone during the fragile hollowing process. Without this reinforcement, pressure from tools could easily shatter the vessel. The processes of extraction, transportation, and workmanship required immense labour hours, something only the wealthiest individuals could afford.

Archaeological evidence shows that in the Badarian and Naqada I cultures of Middle and Upper Egypt, stone vessels were deposited in tombs as ornamental and luxury funerary objects, meant to contain expensive gifts such as perfumes, unguents, oils, and beverages. The West Bank’s association with death and the afterlife made it a natural home for such sacred craftsmanship. “In the Valley of the Queens, known in antiquity as Ta-Set-Neferu, or the Place of Beauty, excavated tombs have yielded artefacts including jewellery, amulets, and canopic jars, along with inscriptions containing prayers, spells, and hymns intended to aid the deceased in the afterlife,” notes Hassan.

During excavations of tomb KV5—the largest tomb ever found in the Valley of the Kings, with at least 120 rooms—archaeologists discovered four complete canopic jars revealing the names of the sons of Ramesses II, confirming the massive demand for alabaster within a single royal family. Ahmed shows me half-finished bowls, their walls already translucent when held to the light, revealing honey-toned veins within the stone. What makes his factory extraordinary isn’t just its historical continuity, but the knowledge encoded in calloused hands. I watch as another artisan heats a vessel with steel implements, drawing deeper amber tones from the calcite.

Then comes the polishing—slow, circular motions with sandstone that create alabaster’s signature silky surface. The finishing touch is what Ahmed calls the “Egyptian oven”, where pieces spend thirty minutes at around 250 degrees with a wax treatment that seals their glow. “Seven days to make all the work,” he tells me, “and thirty minutes in the oven.”

Inside, the factory feels like a living museum of murals: a full-body Egyptian figure with plants at his feet, a kneeling goddess with offering bowls, painted scarabs on the walls, and colourful papyrus shapes marked with HAPI. Everything is symmetrical, handcrafted, slightly imperfect. Shelves hold everything from five-dollar trinkets to monumental sculptures requiring months of labour. “Any design,” Ahmed explains, “because it’s handmade, it’s not easy to make.” What appears effortless is knowledge refined across 115 years of family tradition.

What has changed? The street once thrummed with tour buses and travellers bargaining in every accent imaginable. Now, the primary sound is metal tools striking stone, punctuated by silence. The 2011 revolution, the 2015 airliner tragedy, and COVID-19—waves that battered Egypt’s tourism economy—left traditional craftsmen struggling. Ahmed isn’t giving up. In fact, he is preparing the next generation to become the ninth. Before I leave, he reaches under the counter and presses a small blue scarab into my hand—a token of good luck. In my other hand, wrapped carefully in paper, is the alabaster ankh I purchased.

“This craft,” Ahmed says as I step back into the sun, “is not just about making souvenirs for tourists. We are keeping alive something that our ancestors gave to the pharaohs. When you hold that ankh, you hold a piece of Egypt that has not changed.” Now I know what he meant. These artisans, in constant conversation with history, are trying to keep Egypt’s soul alive—working stone beneath the same merciless sun that surrounds the tombs of the Valley of the Kings.

FAQs

Q1. Where is El Qurna in Luxor, and why is it famous?
El Qurna is a group of villages on Luxor’s West Bank, located between the Valley of the Kings and Deir el-Bahari. It is famous for its long tradition of hand-carved alabaster craftsmanship.

Q2. What is Egyptian alabaster, and how is it different from other stone?
Egyptian alabaster is a translucent form of calcite, prized since ancient times for its soft glow and smooth finish. Unlike marble, it allows light to pass through, giving vessels a luminous appearance.

Q3. How long has the Elhofni family been making alabaster crafts?
The Elhofni family has been working with alabaster since the late eighteenth century, with documented workshops operating continuously in El Qurna since 1910, spanning eight generations.

Q4. How are alabaster artefacts traditionally made in El Qurna?
Alabaster pieces are hand-carved using metal tools, reinforced with linen soaked in glue during hollowing, polished with sandstone, and finished in a heated wax process known locally as the “Egyptian oven”.

Q5. Is it possible to visit alabaster workshops in El Qurna today?
Yes, many family-run workshops in El Qurna welcome visitors. Travellers can observe artisans at work, learn about the craft’s history, and purchase authentic hand-made alabaster pieces directly from the makers.