Bartender and Mixologist John Brown on finding renewed belonging at Ox-Bow.
by John H. brown IV
I
I entered Ox-Bow on a sour note, bitter thoughts lingering after an impromptu work meeting and the frustration of getting stuck in traffic. Even the usual excitement sparked by the local speed policewoman’s greeting—“Slow down!”—felt different this time. This was my first time participating in an Ox-Bow event as a guest.
In Chicago, I’ve done everything from curating four-course fine dining experiences to pushing pints at sports pubs. No matter the setting, I take pride in using food and beverage to create memorable culinary moments—whether it’s selecting a savory sipper to get guests salivating or explaining why a particular pét-nat pairs perfectly with a dish. My goal has always been to make people feel comfortable in unfamiliar settings, to give them a sense of belonging through the experience of food and drink.
Since summer ‘19, I’ve applied this passion for the pour to Ox-Bow’s Field of Vision benefit, where I have curated drink menus that complement the artistry of the meals served. Every year, I circle the dates on my calendar in anticipation of my West Michigan work-cation, a chance to mix, serve, and connect. Fast forward to ‘24, and I’ve had the honor of pairing cocktails with the culinary creations of countless resident and visiting chefs. But until now, I had never had the opportunity to sit at the table, to feast alongside the friends and family of Ox-Bow.
Though I considered myself part of the community, today, Rupprecht Way stirred up hints of anxiety. The merry memories of fun and friendships were now overshadowed by my salty attitude, peppered with doubts about whether I truly belonged.
Despite having mixed margaritas and mocktails for nearly every guest, visiting artist, and partner who had passed my bar over the past four years, I found myself fixated on the ways I might not fit in. This was my first time attending the event in this way, and I worried that my unfamiliarity might make my fellow feasters view me as an outsider.
John H. Brown IV mixing drinks at the 2023 Field of Vision Benefit. Photo by Jamie Kelter Davis.
II
Upon entering the ceramics studio, guests were greeted with a rum cocktail mixed by culinary artist Daniel Pravitt-Fethke. The drink’s sour notes soothed my earlier bitterness.
After exchanging hellos with familiar faces, I quickly surveyed the room. As I suspected, I was easily the youngest and most melanated guest in attendance. I wandered into the ceramics studio—not only to admire the pottery on display but also to avoid, or at least delay, any awkward interactions.
As I perused the exhibition, the emcee and Executive Director, Shannon R. Stratton, announced that it was time to gather. Sheepishly, I reintroduced myself to the crowd, standing in the back—half-listening to her greetings and housekeeping notes, half-reading a pamphlet about Ox-Bow’s past and present.
My ears perked up when she introduced Ox-Bow alum Izzy Davis.
I had never met or even heard of Israel Davis, but the name “Izzy” caught my attention. It was my niece’s nickname, and it also reminded me of the mascot for the ’96 Olympics—an anatomically ambiguous, anthropologically androgynous figure whose name, short for “What is he?” or “Is he a star?”, was plastered across ads and gift shops all over Atlanta.
In a similar way, this Izzy’s presence was pleasantly perplexing. A physically unassuming middle-aged man—maybe a Michigander, but undeniably Midwestern—his understated yet fresh fashion sense (custom frames, Carhartt, and a five-panel cap) exuded “blue-collar chic.” Who is he? I joked to myself.
Izzy Davis at work in the Krehbiel Ceramics Studio with two students. Photo by Ian Solomon (Summer Fellow, 2023).
III
Izzy, a professor and professional in the ceramic arts, attributed much of his success not just to his talent but to the opportunities Ox-Bow had provided him. He spoke about the camaraderie within the ceramics community, recalling the ritual of firing Ox-Bow’s wood kiln.
A meticulous, multi-day endeavor, wood firing requires collaboration and cooperation, with ceramicists working around the clock to manually feed the 600-gallon dirt oven, ensuring it reaches and maintains the necessary temperatures for the clay to mature.
Though innovations in kiln technology have improved temperature control, efficiency, and consistency, the wood-firing process is still cherished for the organic imperfections it produces. Within the kiln, a symphony of chemical entropy unfolds: combustion, reduction, and oxidation create an atmosphere of ashes, embers, and minerals. The type of wood, fluctuations in temperature, and movement of the flames interact with the clay, forming unique colors, patterns, and textures—each piece a one-of-a-kind finish with a natural glaze.
But what happened outside the kiln, Izzy recalled, was his favorite part. The process fostered a deep sense of community, bringing together amateur and professional ceramicists who had to trust and rely on one another to complete the task. The extensive time spent together—sharing stories, exchanging ideas—tightened bonds, creating friendships among people from different backgrounds, connected only by their love for ceramics.
Just as the ceramicists relied on each other through the firing process, Culinary Artist-in-Residence Daniel Pravit Fethke worked over a different kind of kiln—roasting chicken over a clay, open-flame oven.
Combustion, reduction, and oxidation: feeding wood to the flames, adjusting temperatures to create an atmosphere where embers interacted with amino acids to produce the Maillard reaction—the same chemical dance that browns bread and sears steak. The grill’s flames left patterns and textures, finishing the dish with a light glaze.
We made our way to the table, where,like the collective of ceramicists, the family-style meal required us to come together, to trust and rely on one another, to share in the experience.
Daniel Pravit Fethke cooks chicken skewers over a kiln. Izzy Davis stands to the right. Photo by Dominique Muñoz (Summer Fellow, 2024).
IV
Seated beside me at the feast, Izzy unknowingly quieted the lingering doubts that had seasoned my thoughts throughout the evening. Originally from North Carolina, his soft, slow-paced Southern drawl sonically soothed me. But it was his vision that impacted me most.
To Izzy, science shows that all humans belong to the same species, yet these similarities do little to celebrate the variety of cultures, creeds, and colors we see. Instead, he chooses to see us all as members of the Human Family. Through this lens, every social gathering is a kind of family reunion—an opportunity to acknowledge differences, assume empathy, and lead with love.
“The way I see it,” he said, “we can either let our differences divide us or we can let them deepen our understanding of each other.”
Though he is a professor and professional of the ceramic arts, he credits his success not only to his talents but also to the access and opportunity Ox-Bow granted him. Most importantly, he celebrates the experiences shared with his peers and the visiting members of the Human Family that his craft has allowed him to meet.
While with Izzy, I realized that the bitterness I had carried in with me had already begun to mellow. I had entered Ox-Bow on a sour note, my thoughts clouded with frustration, my attitude tinged with salt. But Izzy—through his warmth, his wisdom, and his belief in the Human Family—brought a necessary sweetness to the moment. His perspective softened my edges, balanced the acidity of my doubts, and infused the evening with something richer, something whole.
Like a well-crafted cocktail, the experience was layered—sharp at first, then smoothed by connection, rounded by belonging. I had spent years behind the bar, carefully mixing flavors to bring people comfort, to make them feel at home. That night, for the first time, I found myself on the other side of the glass. And for the first time, I truly felt like I belonged.
This article was written by John H. Brown IV and was originally published in the 2025 Experience Ox-Bow Catalog. Banner photo shows the Taste of Ox-Bow dinner at which Brown and Davis met. Photo by Dominique Muñoz.