The Art and Science of Pit Firing

“In pit firing, the flame paints its own design — every pot a unique collaboration between clay, smoke, and fire.”

Canoe Form – subtle blushes of rose and smoke from the pit’s embrace.

Among the oldest and most elemental methods of firing clay, pit firing occupies a fascinating space between art and alchemy. Long before the invention of kilns, potters discovered that clay, smoke, and fire could combine to create forms of striking beauty — vessels imbued with

the unpredictable markings of flame and ash. Today, while technology has advanced, the essence of pit firing remains the same: the transformative meeting of earth, air, and fire.

A Modern Take on a Traditional Method

Traditionally, pit firing involved digging a shallow pit in the ground, lining it with combustible materials such as sawdust, wood shavings, dried leaves, and seaweed, and layering in the raw pots among them. Once filled, the pit was set alight and then carefully smothered to allow the fire to burn slowly, encouraging the smoke and minerals to react with the clay surface. The results were always uncertain — some pieces emerged with vivid, smoky veils of colour; others cracked or shattered under the stress of uneven heat.

At Village Ceramics & Crafts, we’ve adapted this ancient technique to suit a modern studio environment. Instead of an earthen pit, our firing chamber is constructed from refractory kiln bricks, hand placed to form a sturdy box approximately three feet long, two feet wide, and two feet high. This structure retains heat more efficiently and offers greater control over air flow and combustion. It also allows us to repeat firings with more consistent, reliable results — a modern “pit” that honours tradition while benefiting from a little practical innovation.

Cylindrical Pot – marbled red and grey surface from mineral reactions.

The Firing Process

Each pit firing begins with careful preparation. The pots — made from raku clay for its exceptional thermal shock resistance — are first bisque-fired to around 950°C. This pre-firing strengthens the clay enough to withstand the unpredictable heat of the pit. In the traditional method, breakages are common; pots often succumb to thermal shock as the fire flares and cools. By using raku clay, however, we find that almost 100% of our pieces survive intact, allowing their surfaces to tell the full story of the fire.

Once the pit is loaded with sawdust, wood shavings, dried grass, and the occasional sprinkle of copper carbonate or sea salt, the pots are nestled within. The arrangement is deliberate — varying the layers and materials influences the patterns of flame and smoke. Copper compounds can yield delicate pinks and greens, while steel wool or coffee grounds can produce deeper blacks and smoky blues. The pit is then lit, and as the flames take hold, the transformation begins.

Over the course of several hours, the fire consumes the organic materials, gradually enveloping the pots in waves of smoke and mineral vapour. Once the fire dies down, the pit is covered to retain residual heat and allow the pieces to cool slowly overnight. The following morning brings the moment of discovery: each pot unearthed like a relic, its surface kissed by unpredictable swirls of blush, grey, and carbon black.

From Fire to Form

The results of this process are exemplified in several recent works from our studio. The elongated canoe form — with its soft gradations of pink, grey, and charcoal — shows how flame can contour itself around a vessel, creating natural transitions of tone and texture. The smoky red cylindrical pot bears more intense, marbled markings, its surface mottled with carbon veils and delicate mineral blooms. And the textured rounded vessel, with its pale, almost stone-like lower half and subtle blushes of rose and ash near the shoulder, captures the quiet unpredictability that makes pit firing so alluring.

Each of these pieces embodies the essence of the process — no glazes, no oxides painted by hand, just the raw chemistry of combustion interacting with clay. What emerges is something both ancient and immediate: a record of fire’s fleeting passage across the surface.

The Beauty of the Unexpected

Pit firing is, in many ways, a collaboration between the potter and the elements. While we can guide and influence the outcome through placement, materials, and timing, the final result always contains an element of surprise. That unpredictability is part of the charm. No two pieces can ever be the same, and each vessel carries the unique imprint of its firing — a signature written in smoke.

For us, that’s the enduring appeal of pit-fired ceramics. They are not merely decorative; they are stories of transformation — clay to pot, fire to finish — each one emerging from the embers as a tangible piece of earth and flame.