If you knew Dan Finch, you probably have a story.
Maybe it was a conversation around the kiln. Maybe it was a lesson that changed the way you looked at clay. Or maybe it was one of Dan's stories, always told with a smile, that somehow made you feel like an old friend.
Some people are remembered for what they made. Dan Finch is remembered for the people he brought together.
Although Dan was a world-renowned potter, you might never have known it from spending time with him. There was no ego, no sense of self-importance. He was down to earth, full of stories, and genuinely interested in hearing yours.
Whether you were an accomplished artist, a student eager to learn, or someone visiting Finch Pottery for the first time, Dan had a gift for making people feel welcome.
He was a teacher, a craftsman, and a friend. He had a way of making everyone feel like they belonged.
Dan believed in sharing what he knew. He welcomed artists into his studio, opened his kiln to others, and spent decades building a community centered around creativity, learning, and friendship.
People may have first come to Finch Pottery because of the pottery itself, but they returned because of Dan.
Years after his passing in 2023, the community he built gathered once again to honor the man who had first brought them together.
For the first time since 2019, smoke once again rose from the massive wood-fired kiln at Finch Pottery in Bailey.
Artists, friends, and family members began arriving from across North Carolina and beyond.
Among those who returned were renowned ceramic artists Cynthia Bringle and Chris Gustin. Cynthia's presence was especially meaningful, having taught Dan early in his pottery journey. Leading the firing was kiln master Ben Owen III and Chris Gustin. Together with more than 50 artists, volunteers, family members, and friends, they set out to bring Dan's beloved kiln back to life.
Honoring Dan meant more than simply lighting a fire. From May 23 through June 4, it meant nearly two weeks of hard work, sleepless nights, shared meals, and teamwork around the clock.
There were 1,469 pieces of pottery carefully loaded into the kiln. Some were functional. Others held deeply personal significance. One artist created an eagle inspired by a piece of driftwood found by her grandson. Another crafted a beach house to rest atop her husband's urn, transforming cherished memories into art. Each piece represented a unique journey, preserving moments, loved ones, and legacies in clay before the fire revealed their final form.
Lisa Watson shared photographs of many of these works before they entered the kiln, providing a glimpse of the artwork before its transformation. Photographer Gerry Brabham joined me on May 26 and June 4, documenting both the firing process and the unveiling of the finished pottery. Together, the images tell the story of not only the pottery itself, but also the people, the dedication, and the community spirit that surrounded the event.
Then the work began.
Members of the firing crew tended the wood fired kiln around the clock during the first firing at Finch Pottery since 2019. Photo by Gerry Brabham.
Under the leadership of Ben Owen III and Chris Gustin, artists and volunteers worked tirelessly around the clock from May 23 through June 4. Wood was stacked. Temperatures were monitored. Stories were shared. Meals were enjoyed together. Friendships were renewed.
As the kiln reached its intense temperatures, members of the firing crew stepped into fire resistant suits and lowered face shields before approaching the heat. Ash was stirred and directed through the kiln, where it would settle naturally onto the pottery, helping create the distinctive surfaces and glazes that make wood fired pottery so unique.
One of Lisa Watson's favorite photographs featured a group she affectionately called "the cool kids.
Pictured together are Davis Abner, David Porras, Richard Heiser, and Shelley Leigh, whose dedication and willingness to tackle some of the most physically demanding work of the firing reflected the spirit that has long defined Finch Pottery. They were not there for recognition. They were there because they believed in the tradition Dan Finch built and wanted to help carry it forward.
Throughout the firing, reminders of Dan could be found everywhere.
One of the most meaningful reminders of Dan hangs above the kiln itself.
Dan Finch's pottery vessel is lifted into place above the wood fired kiln at Finch Pottery, where it serves as the kiln door's counterweight. It remains a lasting reminder that Dan's work continues to be part of every firing. Photo by Lisa Watson.
A large pottery vessel created by Dan years ago serves as the counterweight for the kiln door. As artists worked day and night tending the fire, Dan's own work remained part of the process, quietly helping carry the load.
It felt like a fitting symbol.
Even now, Dan is still helping bring people together.
For days, the fire burned. Then came the waiting.
As the kiln cooled, anticipation grew. No one knew exactly how the flames and ash would transform the pottery inside. That uncertainty is part of the magic of wood firing. No two pieces emerge exactly alike.
When the kiln was finally opened on June 4, the results were stunning.
The pottery was beautiful.
But it was not the most remarkable thing revealed that day.
That honor belonged to the community gathered around the kiln.
Looking across the artists, volunteers, friends, and family members who had traveled from near and far, it was easy to understand why Dan Finch remains so deeply loved. The firing was more than an artistic event. It was a celebration of friendship, mentorship, and a shared commitment to carrying forward a tradition that mattered.
A Community Comes Together
The first wood firing at Finch Pottery since 2019 brought together artists, family, volunteers, and friends from across the region. These moments capture not only the firing itself, but the community Dan Finch inspired and the tradition that continues today.
Amy Finch, Ben Owen III, Jane Finch, and Barbara Green share memories of Dan Finch at Finch Pottery. Stories like these continue to keep Dan's legacy alive. Photo by Gerry M. Brabham.
Hundreds of pieces emerged from the kiln, and many carried stories known only to the artists who created them. Some celebrated new beginnings. Others honored loved ones through an eagle, a beach house, or other deeply personal works. Every piece reflected not only the unpredictability of wood firing but also the memories, hopes, and lives that inspired it.
The community that gathered in Bailey was not there simply because Dan was a talented potter.
They were there because he had touched their lives.
He taught them. Encouraged them. Shared stories with them. Welcomed them into his studio. Made them feel like they belonged.
That may be Dan Finch's greatest legacy.
Today, that legacy continues through the people who loved him most.
