Grieving from the loss of one of the country’s largest and most devastating fires, ceramic artists rally to preserve historic tiles, gather to create as a community, and make bowls to share a meal in a great time of need.
I’ve always enjoyed the sight and smell of a campfire, fireplace, or raku barrel; flames leaping, smoke billowing, and warming the body; encouraging musing and retrospection. Fire demonstrated its powerful force on January 7, 2025, the day that the Eaton Fire in Altadena and Pasadena, California, devastated the community. Wind speeds topped 100 mph, spreading sparks and embers for miles. No one was safe. It was unimaginable! Thousands of homes were turned to ash, creating a graveyard of chimneys, with fired clay being the medium most likely to survive the conflagration.
Witnessing the loss of security and peace by so many whom I’ve lived alongside was the spark that ignited my quest to help the community recover through the very force that destroyed it. The Eaton UP^ 1.7.25 Ceramic Bowl Series enabled me to create objects that folks could fill with nourishment, literally and symbolically, to soothe their souls. 400+ bowls were given to fire survivors at the Eaton Fire Anniversary Tribute on January 7, 2026. I hope one day to complete a set of bowls for each family that returns home.
Responding to the Devastation
As the community responded to the devastation, creative artists emerged as points of light. Dedicated volunteers worked to “Save the tiles,” quickly forming a non-profit group using the same name. They gathered rare Batchelder tiles, ceramic heirlooms, and other historically significant pieces from the still-standing chimneys. Each batch collected from the standing chimneys was cataloged and stored, awaiting the rebuilding of homes. The Save the Tiles website (www.savethetiles.org) notes: “. . . . these tiles may be the only surviving link between Altadena’s historic homes and our town’s future. Well over a hundred years ago, Altadena began as a dream for the future that rejected much of the modern conventions of the day. The people who architected, designed, and built our community were artists, engineers, and naturalists. Altadena rose up inextricably bound to the Arts and Crafts movement in America. In reaction to mechanization and industrialization, these first Altadenans prioritized harmony with nature, simplicity of design, and the beauty in handcrafted things. Today, Altadenans are a truly diverse group of artists and mail carriers and small business owners and rocket scientists. We love our tight-knit foothill community, our unrivaled access to nature, and the collection of bungalows and modest houses . . . .”1
In an instant, ceramics, metals, and glass artist Evan Chambers witnessed the loss of his family’s house, his wife’s pottery studio, and his glass and metal forge. But even in dealing with his own loss, his main concern was about the support of black and brown families who may not have the means to rebuild after an event that they had no part in starting.
In collaboration with the Artists At Work grant, supported in part by the Mellon Foundation, the 1,000 Voices Mosaic is designed and spearheaded by a local ceramic artist, Alma Cielo, who conducts community workshops with fire survivors to clean recovered shards of metal, glass, and clay, and create meaningful earthenware tiles to be added to a final installation somewhere in Altadena. Cielo realized, “It is a gift to be a potter who regularly works with the transformative aspect of fire. My house burned down, but as an artist, I was actually more interested in how the fire transformed pieces I’d made—and I was amazed that so many were still intact. The fire was like a third raku firing—it brought out more colors and metallics to the surface.”
Potter Mike Flowers created miniature mugs to give away as ornaments to mark the first Christmas holiday season of a new era. He shared, “A year later, I’m still not home, but soon I’ll have an almost new home and a brand new studio with insulation and HVAC. Once I’m back, the goal is, ‘How do I use my skills and space to help my community?’ I started an Instagram account and an idea, The Altadena Pottery Project. I’ll put together events like pottery drives or maker sessions to help in the recovery and rebuilding of a place all the locals call Beautiful Altadena.”
The local Xiem Clay Center’s master potter and kiln master, Junzo Mori, lost his home and all personal belongings. Mori fires much of the work in the surrounding area. He’s in his 70s and still firing kilns for all of us. Fellow artists, former students, and lifelong residents of the area who lost entire collections of their artwork are forging ahead to rebuild their studios and homes, recover their sense of peace and quiet, and relearn to enjoy the warmth of fire as they enjoy nourishment from their EATON UP^ bowl.
Rebuilding
One year after the tragedy, too few have been able to rebuild their lives due to the magnitude of the event that left us reeling. With like-minded resolve to rebuff corporate takeovers, the creative community of visual and performing artists who formerly inhabited the lost homes continues to navigate how to return, rebuild, and revive the joy of their past. Potters know well that a failed attempt is not the end, only a lesson learned along the way as we aim for mastery of the medium. Their resolve is a testament to the resilience and power of artistry, to design aesthetically pleasing, weather-resistant structures as we rebuild our community one chimney at a time. I’ll continue making bowls; my way to grieve the losses and provide joy for others during challenging times. The wheel spins as we rise from the ashes and guide the flames to thoughtfully do their magic!
the author Cynthia Lake, located in Pasadena, California, is a retired art educator; a protégé of Philip Cornelius, Joe Soldate, and Rollie Younger. Over the span of 40 years, she has influenced thousands to explore and discover the intrinsic rewards provided by a life invested in the arts with a focus on hands in clay. “I’m just a Mudlark at heart!”
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Grieving from the loss of one of the country’s largest and most devastating fires, ceramic artists rally to preserve historic tiles, gather to create as a community, and make bowls to share a meal in a great time of need.
I’ve always enjoyed the sight and smell of a campfire, fireplace, or raku barrel; flames leaping, smoke billowing, and warming the body; encouraging musing and retrospection. Fire demonstrated its powerful force on January 7, 2025, the day that the Eaton Fire in Altadena and Pasadena, California, devastated the community. Wind speeds topped 100 mph, spreading sparks and embers for miles. No one was safe. It was unimaginable! Thousands of homes were turned to ash, creating a graveyard of chimneys, with fired clay being the medium most likely to survive the conflagration.
Witnessing the loss of security and peace by so many whom I’ve lived alongside was the spark that ignited my quest to help the community recover through the very force that destroyed it. The Eaton UP^ 1.7.25 Ceramic Bowl Series enabled me to create objects that folks could fill with nourishment, literally and symbolically, to soothe their souls. 400+ bowls were given to fire survivors at the Eaton Fire Anniversary Tribute on January 7, 2026. I hope one day to complete a set of bowls for each family that returns home.
Responding to the Devastation
As the community responded to the devastation, creative artists emerged as points of light. Dedicated volunteers worked to “Save the tiles,” quickly forming a non-profit group using the same name. They gathered rare Batchelder tiles, ceramic heirlooms, and other historically significant pieces from the still-standing chimneys. Each batch collected from the standing chimneys was cataloged and stored, awaiting the rebuilding of homes. The Save the Tiles website (www.savethetiles.org) notes: “. . . . these tiles may be the only surviving link between Altadena’s historic homes and our town’s future. Well over a hundred years ago, Altadena began as a dream for the future that rejected much of the modern conventions of the day. The people who architected, designed, and built our community were artists, engineers, and naturalists. Altadena rose up inextricably bound to the Arts and Crafts movement in America. In reaction to mechanization and industrialization, these first Altadenans prioritized harmony with nature, simplicity of design, and the beauty in handcrafted things. Today, Altadenans are a truly diverse group of artists and mail carriers and small business owners and rocket scientists. We love our tight-knit foothill community, our unrivaled access to nature, and the collection of bungalows and modest houses . . . .”1
In an instant, ceramics, metals, and glass artist Evan Chambers witnessed the loss of his family’s house, his wife’s pottery studio, and his glass and metal forge. But even in dealing with his own loss, his main concern was about the support of black and brown families who may not have the means to rebuild after an event that they had no part in starting.
In collaboration with the Artists At Work grant, supported in part by the Mellon Foundation, the 1,000 Voices Mosaic is designed and spearheaded by a local ceramic artist, Alma Cielo, who conducts community workshops with fire survivors to clean recovered shards of metal, glass, and clay, and create meaningful earthenware tiles to be added to a final installation somewhere in Altadena. Cielo realized, “It is a gift to be a potter who regularly works with the transformative aspect of fire. My house burned down, but as an artist, I was actually more interested in how the fire transformed pieces I’d made—and I was amazed that so many were still intact. The fire was like a third raku firing—it brought out more colors and metallics to the surface.”
Potter Mike Flowers created miniature mugs to give away as ornaments to mark the first Christmas holiday season of a new era. He shared, “A year later, I’m still not home, but soon I’ll have an almost new home and a brand new studio with insulation and HVAC. Once I’m back, the goal is, ‘How do I use my skills and space to help my community?’ I started an Instagram account and an idea, The Altadena Pottery Project. I’ll put together events like pottery drives or maker sessions to help in the recovery and rebuilding of a place all the locals call Beautiful Altadena.”
The local Xiem Clay Center’s master potter and kiln master, Junzo Mori, lost his home and all personal belongings. Mori fires much of the work in the surrounding area. He’s in his 70s and still firing kilns for all of us. Fellow artists, former students, and lifelong residents of the area who lost entire collections of their artwork are forging ahead to rebuild their studios and homes, recover their sense of peace and quiet, and relearn to enjoy the warmth of fire as they enjoy nourishment from their EATON UP^ bowl.
Rebuilding
One year after the tragedy, too few have been able to rebuild their lives due to the magnitude of the event that left us reeling. With like-minded resolve to rebuff corporate takeovers, the creative community of visual and performing artists who formerly inhabited the lost homes continues to navigate how to return, rebuild, and revive the joy of their past. Potters know well that a failed attempt is not the end, only a lesson learned along the way as we aim for mastery of the medium. Their resolve is a testament to the resilience and power of artistry, to design aesthetically pleasing, weather-resistant structures as we rebuild our community one chimney at a time. I’ll continue making bowls; my way to grieve the losses and provide joy for others during challenging times. The wheel spins as we rise from the ashes and guide the flames to thoughtfully do their magic!
the author Cynthia Lake, located in Pasadena, California, is a retired art educator; a protégé of Philip Cornelius, Joe Soldate, and Rollie Younger. Over the span of 40 years, she has influenced thousands to explore and discover the intrinsic rewards provided by a life invested in the arts with a focus on hands in clay. “I’m just a Mudlark at heart!”
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