Fired by Flame: The Story of Crow Wing Studio

Camp Nisswa
Jun 3
4 min read

Crafting Pottery and Purpose, One Blaze at a Time

Tucked at the edge of a quiet Minnesota woods—where the scent of pine mixes with smoke—something is always burning at Crow Wing Studio (Pine River, MN). Not just in the kiln, but in the hearts of those who’ve shaped their lives around it.

Owned and operated by Mike Weiss and Dan Siverson, Crow Wing Studio is more than a pottery shop. It’s a living, breathing space where earth, air, fire, and time come together—and every piece that leaves the kiln carries a bit of that story.

The kiln itself? Built by hand. Brick by brick. It doesn’t just fire pots—it transforms them. “This isn’t just how we make things,” Mike says. “It’s how we live. It’s our rhythm.”

A Fire Worth Following

Firing a wood kiln is a slow burn—literally. It starts steady, feeding logs bit by bit, inching the temperature upward with care. “You want about 100 degrees of gain per hour,” Mike explains. “Push it too fast and you can crack the clay. It has to rise with you.”

Once it hits 1300°F, the pace picks up fast. The fire demands attention every 15 minutes—around the clock. That’s where folks like Justin Bolton step in, holding down the night shift. “Justin’s a firebug like me,” Mike laughs. “We met at another kiln firing and just clicked. It’s like we speak the same language—fire.”

At full blaze, the kiln reaches 2300°F. Flames shoot 30 feet through the chamber, wrapping pots in heat, ash, and transformation. “It’s alive,” Mike says. “You don’t command it—you listen to it.”

Embracing the Unpredictable

In a world chasing perfect lines and perfect outcomes, Crow Wing Studio leans into the unknown. Electric kilns are consistent. Controlled. Predictable. But that’s not what drives this crew.

“When you dip a pot in electric glaze, it comes out the same every time. No story,” Mike shrugs. “No risk.”

Their work is guided by fire, oxygen, ash, and instinct. They use rich, iron-laced clay from ancient beds in North Dakota. During the final stages of firing—when oxygen is cut back—the iron reveals itself in deep reds, smoky blacks, even ghostly purples.

“You can tell where each pot sat in the kiln,” Mike says. “No two are alike. That’s the magic.”

Instead of digital gauges, they watch ceramic cones melt, check textures by hand, and study flame patterns. “You just know when it’s done. If it’s not? More time. More fire. More care.”

Built by Hand, Brick by Brick

The kiln isn’t just a tool—it’s part of the story. Made with reclaimed bricks—some hand-shaped by other potters—it shifts and changes with every firing.

“Each time we fire, it expands, it settles. It breathes with us,” Mike says.

Before each firing, they brick up the front wall—200 bricks placed by hand. After the final ember fades, they take it all down again. “It’s a ritual,” Mike adds. “Not just function. It’s respect.”

The firewood comes from their own land—trees cut and split by hand. What used to be tangled brush is now pastureland, with one old maple left standing. “I couldn’t bring myself to cut it,” Mike says. “It turns too pretty in the fall.”

From Studio to Market

Though their work begins in solitude, it doesn’t stay there. Crow Wing Studio hits the road every year—traveling to festivals and markets across the Midwest: Nisswa, Duluth, Detroit Lakes, Brainerd, and even the Taste of Greece in Minneapolis.

They don’t chase gallery walls or collectors. Their pots are made for everyday life—mugs, bowls, and plates priced to be used, not just admired.

“We make pots for the cupboard,” Mike says, “not the pedestal.”

And while they love chatting with customers at festivals, they’re just as content back in the studio. “We can go all day and say eight words to each other,” Mike smiles. “We’ve heard all the stories already.”

A Calling, Not Just a Job

Turning a passion into a business isn’t easy. Mike is honest about that. “You can turn your favorite hobby into work,” he says. “But this—this fire—is what keeps me coming back.”

Every task, from stacking shelves to splitting wood, ties them to something deeper. “You don’t do this for fast results,” he says. “You do it to remember what it feels like to make something honestly.”

The Fire Doesn’t Lie

When the night is quiet and the kiln glows from within, there’s a sense of something eternal at play. The fire speaks truth—raw, elemental, real.

“This isn’t just pottery,” Mike says, standing next to the roaring kiln. “It’s a conversation with the natural world. You don’t fake it with fire. It gives you what you put in—no more, no less.”

And in that honesty, Crow Wing Studio has found its spark.

Want to follow along?

You can find more of their story and stay up to date with new work and events by following Crow Wing Studio on Facebook and Instagram.

And if you're in town, catch them at the Nisswa Farmers Market—Thursdays from 8:00 AM to 12:30 PM, May through October, in the Nisswa American Legion parking lot. It’s one of the best places to meet the makers and see their latest pieces fresh from the kiln.