There are workshops that capture the essence of the land they work in. The scent of cane, hands stained with fibres, or the soft sound of the palm. We spoke to the craftsman, Juanjo Cerdà, who runs Can Corretja in Pollença, to learn about the history of a trade that spans generations and preserves an almost ancestral craft: broom-making.
“Can Corretja began with my grandfather making brooms, around 1940,” explains the craftsman. The work was passed down from generation to generation: “We’ve been making brooms all our lives, and my father did too.” This continuity is not merely a matter of chronology; it is a way of relating to the landscape and the local raw materials.



Years ago, Pollença was known for its broom production. It was a widespread activity involving many families in the village and generating its own economy linked to the natural resources of the surrounding area. “Pollença was a broom-making village,” explains Juanjo, “there were more than two hundred people making brooms.” They were distributed throughout Mallorca and elsewhere too. “Brooms were sent all over Mallorca, to Menorca, to Ibiza, everywhere… even to the mainland,” he recalls with nostalgia.
Traditionally, each area had developed a specialisation based on its available resources. “Each village had its own speciality. In Artà and Capdepera, for example, the tradition was more closely linked to palm-leaf baskets; in Pòrtol, pottery stood out. In the case of Pollença, the development of broom-making was closely linked to the availability of palm hearts and cane in the area,” summarises Juanjo.
Over time, this reality has changed profoundly. The arrival of industrial products and competition from cheaper materials have reduced the artisanal production of brooms. “Now it’s just me,” says Juanjo with a certain calmness. He maintains a realistic view of the difficulties facing craftsmanship today: “Making brooms isn’t very profitable. It’s one of the most marginalised craft trades there is.” For this reason, he has gradually adapted the workshop to include other handcrafted products, such as baskets and cane instruments.



Even so, continuing to make brooms holds a value for him that goes beyond business. “I see it as a bonus and I don’t give it up because it’s a family tradition. Besides, there are still people who prefer this type, and there are also those who hold their brooms in great esteem. I’ve repaired some that are over 25 years old, and although it’s much easier for me to make a new one, because of the affection they have for this object, I’m happy to do it,” he explains. It is a way of keeping family memories alive, as well as those of the village.
Broom-making is linked to the rhythms of nature and to a craft that has been passed down through generations. Juanjo explains that each step has its own time and that the final quality depends greatly on respecting this timing. “First, the fan is cut—the palm frond in summer—and it has to be left to dry. The reeds are cut during the waning moon in January, because otherwise they rot and are useless. After four or five months, they’re ready to be stripped.” With the materials prepared, the assembly begins: “The fan is made into bundles, then the reed is inserted, we thread the wire through, and then the rope.” It is a manual process that gives the broom its final shape.



The result is a tool made of cane, palm fronds and rope. This is one of the main differences from industrial products. “Mine is biodegradable; the others are made of plastic.” But for Juanjo, the difference isn’t just material: it’s also a matter of sensation. “When you sweep with a handmade broom, the sound it makes is very different… it’s relaxing, it’s a whole different story.”



Every piece made from cane and palm is a small affirmation of sustainability, originality and memory. If more people choose to consume consciously — prioritising quality, repairing before buying new — these trades have a future. And when we buy a basket, a palm-leaf broom or a reed instrument, we are not just acquiring an object; we are embracing a tradition, a landscape and a history that still have much to tell.