Inside Asheville’s Cultural Movement
Words by Ashley Locke
Photos provided by ExploreAsheville.com
If you’ve spent any time in Asheville lately, you may have felt it—that pull toward something familiar yet entirely new. A blend of mountain roots and modern edge. A reverence for heritage paired with a hunger for reinvention. That’s the energy of Neo-Appalachia, and it’s rewriting what it means to experience the South’s most creative mountain town.
So what exactly is Neo-Appalachian? It’s a vibe. A movement. A lens through which a new generation is honoring the traditions of the Appalachian region—craftsmanship, storytelling, food, folkways—while pushing them forward with boldness, artistry, and edge.
In Asheville, that shows up in the form of reimagined biscuit shops, handmade tools, printmaking studios, and ceramics fired with the same passion as a bluegrass riff. It’s a culture that respects where it came from, but isn’t afraid to play with the future.

Let’s start with the food—because when it comes to regional culture, the plate is often where it begins.
ButterPunk is the perfect example. Launched by biscuit royalty Beth Kellerhals (aka The Queen of Biscuits), this just-opened bakery in the River Arts District builds its menu around soft, pillowy biscuits—with a twist. Expect coffee, pastries, and a whole lot of flavor that nods to the past while playing in the present.
Over in West Asheville, Rowan Coffee just opened its second location inside a restored Greyhound station. The menu is Nordic-inspired—open-faced sandwiches and small plates—but the space is pure Appalachian cool: forest green tile, warm wood booths, and natural light pouring in like a summer hike through the Blue Ridge.
And then there’s Good Hot Fish, where Chef Ashleigh Shanti is reclaiming and celebrating Black Appalachian foodways with every fry basket.
Inspired by the fish-frying matriarchs of her family, Shanti’s cooking isn’t just nostalgic—it’s cultural preservation told through perfect bites.
Art has long been at the heart of Appalachian life, but Neo-Appalachian art brings a fresh kind of intentionality to the table. Case in point: Print House, a new printmaking studio, gallery, and education center created by artists Anna Bryant and Denise Markbreit. After losing their previous space in last year’s hurricane, the duo rebuilt with fire and purpose, creating a hub where printmaking meets community—and where anyone, regardless of skill level, can get their hands a little inky.
The same spirit fuels Haunt, a new community space and shop created by Garden & Gun “Made in the South” finalist Anneliesse Gormley. Focused on homesteading, gardening, and traditional Appalachian crafts, Haunt offers everything from hand-carved tools to maker-led classes. It’s part store, part workshop, and all heart.


And if you’re seeking art that echoes with nature and music, look no further than Akira Satake Ceramics. A bluegrass-loving banjo player originally from Osaka, Satake moved to Asheville for its natural beauty and craft legacy—and never looked back. His ceramics are now featured in a new space inside Rite of Passage, a sustainable garment boutique that sources textiles from closed mills in the region. It’s Appalachian history, sewn back together with style and intention.
Neo-Appalachian isn’t just about aesthetics or niche hobbies—it’s about place. About remembering the land and the people who came before, and daring to imagine what’s next.
It’s biscuits made from scratch, ceramics born of earth, textiles saved from extinction, and music that still makes you feel something deep in your chest.
In Asheville, this movement feels alive on every block. It’s not a tourist trap or a marketing gimmick—it’s artists, chefs, and creators building something that feels real.
So if you’re planning a trip to Asheville this summer, go ahead and seek out the waterfalls, the mountaintop views, and the breweries with the patios. But also take time to explore the spaces where the past and future are pressing up against each other in the most beautiful ways.
Ask questions. Buy the art. Eat the fish. And leave room in your bag for something handmade.
Because this version of Appalachia isn’t just surviving—it’s thriving. And it’s inviting you in.