Potters' Wheels Stilled After Fire
Two Months After Losing Access to Studio, Artists Continue Search for Space

By Omar Fekeiki
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, June 29, 2007

Only a few dozen bowls and plates remain of the hundred pieces that were on sale at Eastern Market Pottery before a fire two months ago led the vendors to close the doors.

Potters still display them every Saturday at the venerable outdoor market but take them home and pile up the green and blue earthenware pieces in their guest rooms.

But the supply is dwindling. Although the studio was untouched by the flames, it was one of 14 stalls in the damaged South Hall, and it would be a safety hazard to work there.

So even now, the potters have not fired up a new batch of pottery because they haven't found a place large enough and with sufficient electricity to power their kilns.

"I haven't worked for six weeks," said Audrey Jones, 70, one of the studio's teachers. She had about 200 pieces of pottery in the studio when the fire broke out. She has only 40 pieces left now, stored at her Capitol Hill home.

Eastern Market Pottery had been an established part of the market for four decades. The potters sold functional pieces and colorful artistic creations. The four professional potters also taught about 30 students during biweekly classes.

It was "an integral part of the market and D.C.," said Charles Allen, chief of staff for D.C. Council member Tommy Wells (D-Ward 6).

Initially, they thought they had escaped unscathed. "The feeling was that we were fine," said Susan Jacobs, 63, a teacher associated with the studio for 38 years. "Everyone thought that we were going back."

But a few days later, when the reconstruction activities started, they learned that they couldn't return.

The studio had two entrances. The main one opened inside the South Hall, which was closed for repair. The second led to the outside, into the middle of a facade reconstruction. For safety reasons, they could use neither.

"We were fine until someone looked and said, 'Wait a minute, how are they going into the building?' " Jacobs said.

To accommodate most of the displaced vendors, the city is providing temporary space near Eastern Market.

The potters prepared to move into the new quarters. But then they were told that the space wasn't big enough because of their high use of electric power to fire the kiln.

City officials and community organizations have been trying to find a place that meets the potters' needs, with 700 to 900 square feet of space. They have checked more than 25 places from a list of 70 possibilities. Only one potential site is available, but no lease has been signed, several potters said.

In the meantime, days that otherwise would be spent at the potting wheel are filled with the search for a place to work.

Instead of waiting for bureaucracy to resolve the problem, Jacobs, notebook and pen in hand, took to the streets around Capitol Hill to look for a place. Soon other potters joined her in the quest.

Sara Goldhawk, 45, who works for an educational nonprofit group and has been a student at the studio for 10 years, said it had become such an important part of her life that she is working tirelessly now to "make sure it gets a place and continues."

Nicky Cymrot, president of Capitol Hill Community Foundation, said the group is talking to property and store owners to find space for a suitable studio. "Everyone has jumped up and down to help them," she said.

To draw more attention to their case, Goldhawk has distributed a "Save Eastern Market Pottery" petition saying that the "Eastern Market community must secure and support the continuation of a pottery studio as it is a valuable community resource." They have collected 300 signatures so far.

She also created an e-mail address for testimonials, which she plans to submit to the D.C. Council.

Last weekend, the white of the rug atop Jacobs' table became more prominent with every hour as the final few pieces were sold. Jacobs is not making enough money, but what hurts more, she said, "is that I can't make them."

Rachel Davis, 33, stood at Jacobs' table looking for a green and blue mug to go with one she bought a few months ago. Jacobs told her that all she had left were the handful of pieces on the table.

"I have to wait," Davis said, before turning and leaving.