Transcripts

SPEAKER 1: OK, two more here.

SPEAKER 2: Inside a brown metal shed on the edge of St. John's University in Collegeville sits the 87-foot-long brick kiln, large enough for a forklift to enter the front and back.

It's surrounded by stacks of wood and a crew of haggard-looking volunteers. They're bleary eyed and covered with a fine layer of soot, yet there's an excitement in the air. They snap to attention when it's time to feed the fire.

SPEAKER 3: You guys ready? Let's go!

SPEAKER 1: OK, two short ones down the sides. Two, two, two, two. Go with the cordwood down the sides with it.

SPEAKER 2: Chad Bresnahan directs two men as they lift lids from the top of the kiln and drop wood in the half-foot openings. It's exact work because if they're not careful, they'll drop the wood on the pottery stacked up on either side of the openings. Bresnahan's been here for 12 hours, but he's too wired to leave.

SPEAKER 1: And don't be afraid, John, to throw in more than two, whatever it takes to fill that void. And then go with a couple of stickers, and then--

SPEAKER 2: Chad's brother, Richard Bresnahan, is the visionary behind this kiln. The St. John's Potter in Residence designed and built it with three chambers for firing different styles of pottery. Bresnahan says it's unlike anything he's ever done before.

SPEAKER 4: It's like having three different children, and each children's birth is different. So we're going through some very heavy growing pains. [LAUGHS]

SPEAKER 2: Yet, Bresnahan says the kiln is actually surpassing his expectations with no major problems so far. Bresnahan is especially excited about the interest in the kiln's first firing.

Volunteers and students from around the country have come to Collegeville for the two-week process. Mitsuo Kakatani, who teaches art in Richmond, Indiana, has been here for a month.

SPEAKER 5: This is the, I would say, historical event. And to create this kind of monster, you need lots of help.

SPEAKER 2: Community members are also pitching in. Francis Schellinger, a wiry man with white hair, lives a mile from Bresnahan in Collegeville Township. Schellinger says he's the project's resident codger here to provide color.

SPEAKER 6: I don't have any great responsibilities here. I try to do the menial work. They really don't consult with me on anything. [LAUGHS]

SPEAKER 2: Schellinger's son, John, is splitting logs next to the kiln. He says he wanted to help because the kiln is unique. A carpenter by trade, the younger Schellenger says the work's not hard, but it can be dangerous.

SPEAKER 7: It's very hot. You open the lids of the chambers, the fire has a lot of heat. When we first started doing this, we were putting in dry wood, and it's so hot that the wood would actually almost explode. So now we're soaking it in water.

SPEAKER 2: It's time to stoke the kiln again. And as Richard Bresnahan directs the crew to throw in more wood, flames burst out of the open lids. Bresnahan says because of the amount of fuel and labor needed to fire the kiln, it's not likely to happen more than once a year.

He won't know how the pottery looks until the firing ends but says he's trying not to get his hopes up. He offers an interesting analogy.

SPEAKER 4: You would have to think of those people who get married, and they're at the threshold of their wedding, and they're going down the aisle. And it would be really, I think, rather foolish for us to think that we would want to bring our previous relationships with us.

So you want-- so when you're up at the altar, you'd like to just keep a very open mind [LAUGHS] so that those kinds of work are the unique works from just that first firing. So if you don't have any expectations, they won't be disappointed.

SPEAKER 2: Bresnahan says the kiln will serve as a learning tool for pottery students and artists for generations. I'm Laura McCollum, the FM News Station, Collegeville.

SPEAKER 4: You're OK. Up on your left here.

SPEAKER 1: OK, that's it. Close her up.