Instantaneous access to an insatiable, 24-hour news media means we’re never more than a few clicks away from a pivotal crisis or sugary bit of gossip.

Artificial intelligence in the workplace. Fires in California. Celebrities in court. Floods in Texas. The headlines pile up persistently as we endeavor to live our lives and pursue our passions. Is it any wonder, then, that we sometimes become distracted or overwhelmed and lose track of a particular storyline—no matter how impactful or urgent?

To those of us who didn’t live through the horror of Hurricane Helene, for example, one of the deadliest tropical storms to hit the US mainland in nearly 20 years may now seem a distant memory. But for the craftspeople living and creating in places like the Mountain Region of western North Carolina (WNC), it’s barely been a year—a long, taxing year marked by feelings of loss, existential uncertainty, and galvanizing bouts of hope.

The region’s storied educational institutions (Penland School of Craft, John C. Campbell Folk School, Haywood Community College), organizations (the Southern Highland Craft Guild, the Center for Craft, Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual, Inc.), and countless other foundations, civic groups, craftspeople, and their patrons stepped up immediately after the storm with economic aid and moral support—and they haven’t stopped. Six of the seven makers featured on the following pages, for instance, are part of a 40-person WNC Craft Futures Cohort at the Center for Craft that was awarded a total of $600,000 and spent the summer in a peer-to-peer support network. And that’s just a drop in the bailing bucket.

A generation’s worth of work and an estimated $50 billion is still required to restore WNC. In the meantime, local artists and makers are returning to their online shops and exhibition spaces, and hoping craft lovers the world over do the same. “Our doors are open!” exclaims Asheville-based jeweler Laura Lau Klein, who hopes readers of American Craft will spread the word. “People are welcome to come back and visit.”

Lau Klein also stresses that those who can afford it should donate to organizations like the Craft Emergency Relief Fund (CERF+), which provides emergency support to craft artists. And everyone you’ll meet here says they agreed to revisit September 27, 2024, and its aftermath—no small or easy thing—in hopes that, no matter what’s spinning in the news cycle, Hurricane Helene doesn’t fade from our collective consciousness.

A Call for Help

Morgan Hill, Sculptor and Jewelry Designer
Penland, North Carolina

morganhillcreative.com | @morganhillcreative

After graduating with a BFA in woodworking and furniture design in 2013, Morgan Hill left her native Arkansas to take a workshop at Penland, which she followed up with a two-year Core Fellowship. She’s been living near campus ever since, designing and selling vibrant jewelry to support larger multimedia projects. “It’s a pretty common story,” she says. “People take a workshop and they’re like, ‘Oh my gosh, what is this place? I have to be here all the time!’”

Hill was not in Penland when Helene landed, however. She was visiting New Hampshire. Worried about water damage as the storm intensified, she tried to stay in contact with the co-owners of Treats Studios, a makerspace she cofounded in nearby Spruce Pine. “And then the power went out and I couldn’t communicate with anybody,” she says. “Because I wasn’t there, I knew how bad it was. People on the ground didn’t understand the extent of the damage because they didn’t have access to the news and they couldn’t talk to each other. So the morning after, I started to think about what I could do to help.”

Within days, Hill had conspired with two colleagues who were also out of town—Cami Leisk, owner and operator  of Loam WNC, and textiles designer Sarah Parkinson—to turn the Treats Studios website into an online clearinghouse for impacted artists to sell their work and set up mutual aid. “It was a direct form of funding,” Hill says. “That was important when a lot of sources for artist relief in the area were without power or in need of help themselves.”

Hundreds of craftspeople benefited from the site. And when the Center for Craft was in a position to award grants to impacted makers soon after, they tapped the database to expedite the process. “It was a grassroots thing,” says Hill, who didn’t return home until January and still isn’t sure she’ll remain in the area. “We created a web of help.”

The Long Haul

Rachel David, Metalworker
Waynesville, North Carolina

redmetal.net | @__redmetal__

It’s early May, and Rachel David is talking to me while driving home from Louisiana. It’s been a long road trip. Before selling her work at the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, the metalworker—who sculpts and designs furniture by forming, forging, and machining steel—also exhibited at the Smithsonian Craft Show. Along the way, she’s found herself reflecting on the differences and similarities between living through both Hurricane Helene, which flooded her house in Waynesville, and Hurricane Katrina, which struck New Orleans when David was living there in 2005.

“One of the things I’ve learned is how important it is for artists to be involved in recovery, especially in economies that are tourist driven,” she says. For a number of reasons—“demographics, the national mood, structural racism”—it took a few years for New Orleans’s creative community to find their footing and begin not only rebuilding, but creating what has since emerged as a vibrant arts scene. In western North Carolina, people have been able to pivot more quickly. “We have this amazing network of support organizations that led with funding, which was incredible. Because, first and foremost, we need money to rebuild our homes and studios.”

Because of the enduring physical and emotional toll of Helene, David emphasizes that there’s still an enormous amount of work and healing to do, and while local efforts are encouraging, national visibility and engagement will remain crucial over the coming years. “There are still so many people without homes, and families living with deep uncertainty,” she says. “And then there’s all the uncertainty that this regime in Washington is imposing, which is only hindering a difficult recovery period.”

One of the bright lights for David has been the Center for Craft’s WNC Craft Futures Cohort, to which she was named at the beginning of the year. Along with receiving funding and being included in a group exhibition, the 40 participants are leaning into an energizing, peer-to-peer network. “It’s such a fascinating, diverse, and brilliant group of people,” she says. “We see each other’s spaces. We have interesting, inspiring conversations. I’ve fallen in love with the whole process.”

In mid-July, David was further heartened to hear that the New Orleans Academy of Fine Arts has joined the Asheville-based ArtsvilleUSA and River Arts District Artists to produce A Tale of Two Cities, which will explore “the role of art in the wake of environmental disaster.”

Reimagining

Laura Lau Klein, Jeweler, Multimedia Artist
Asheville, North Carolina

lauklein.com | @lauralauklein

Just before Helene bore down on West Asheville, Laura Lau Klein was evacuated. The next day they biked back to the area and found that while their residence had just escaped flooding, the communal studio space they used in Asheville’s River Arts District was badly water damaged. “It was really amazing, because everybody was out on the streets and already helping each other,” Lau Klein says. “Everyone was so in each other’s lives for that first month or two. I feel really sad thinking about it, but simultaneously really enlivened. I feel a lot of love thinking about it, too.”

A painter, Lau Klein studied anthropology in Delaware and then, after discovering the craft scene in western North Carolina, became immersed in the handmade. After stints at Penland and the John C. Campbell Folk School, they studied jewelry making at Haywood Community College and graduated just a few months before the hurricane came. Immediately embraced by their peers, Lau Klein was offered a temporary studio space in nearby Weaverville and, last winter, received a two-week residency at Penland. In total, the journey has led them to reevaluate the pace and purpose of their practice.

“Immediately following the storm, I did what felt necessary to show up for my community and to recover my craft business,” they say. “This spring, I have finally begun prioritizing new routines . . . including spending time in the woods every week and prioritizing pleasure and rest. This approach feels crucial to maintaining a craft practice while our area rebuilds.

“My work is heavily influenced by the local ecosystem, using elements of our river—such as found stones I set in jewelry, and plants I cast in metals. Since the storm, I’ve started working on a series of designs that incorporate photoetching ambient patterns seen in the aftermath of the storm, such as cracked earth. It feels cathartic to use this imagery to adorn the body, turning something hard to look at into an object worn to express the beauty in life.”