In September 2021, I attended my first wood firing, and from the moment we lit the kiln, I was completely hooked.

The firing took place on Dartmoor at Barn Pottery, where we fired both a soda kiln and a large anagama kiln. Until then, my pottery experience had centred around electric firings, but woodfiring was something entirely different. It wasn't simply a way of firing pots; it was an event, a collaboration, and an adventure.

Unlike electric kilns, which can be programmed and left to do their work, wood-fired kilns require constant attention. For days at a time, teams of potters work together to feed wood into the kiln, maintaining the temperature around the clock. There is a rhythm to it: stoking, watching the flames, sharing meals, drinking tea, and taking turns through the day and night.

What fascinated me most was the unpredictability. As the wood burns, ash travels through the kiln and settles on the pots. At high temperatures, that ash melts into a natural glaze, creating surfaces and colours that cannot be replicated. No two pieces emerge exactly the same. The alchemy is wonderful!

After that first firing, I knew I wanted to do it again. I returned to Barn Pottery several times, learning a little more with each firing and becoming increasingly captivated by the process.

Eventually, I discovered Kigbeare, an enormous anagama kiln near Okehampton. Firing such a large kiln is a remarkable undertaking, requiring a dedicated team and many days of continuous work. The scale of it is impressive, but what keeps drawing me back is the sense of community that develops around the kiln.

Over the years I have been fortunate enough to take part in many firings at Kigbeare. Each firing is unique. Weather conditions, wood, kiln placement and countless other factors all influence the final results. Opening the kiln after a firing is always exciting; there is no way of knowing exactly what treasures will emerge.

Woodfiring has become one of the most important parts of my pottery journey. It has taught me patience, collaboration and a willingness to embrace uncertainty. Many of my all-time favourite pots have come from wood firings, carrying the marks of flame, ash and time.

Today, I am proud to organise and run the annual firing for members of the Westcountry Potters Association at Kigbeare. It’s wonderful to see others experience the same excitement that I felt during that first firing back in 2021.

Four years on, I still feel a thrill every time a kiln is lit. There is something magical about gathering around a fire, feeding it day and night, and waiting to see what emerges. For me, woodfiring is far more than a firing method—it's a community, a tradition, and a continuing source of inspiration.

Woodfiring and me