By: Rebecca Heap

~republished with the permission of NZSAG

Julia Reimer, Katie Brown, Tyler Rock, Suzanna Jacobsen
Photo credit: Rebecca Heap

In January, a small group of New Zealand glassblowers had the opportunity to experience Canadian glassblowing at its best when Tyler Rock and Julia Reimer dropped by on their way to Australia.  They came to Chronicle Glass in Wanganui and shared their skills and knowledge with us for three days.

With only six participants, there was plenty of time for interaction and undivided attention.  We started off with discussions on design and then a couple of times a day had demonstrations on different forms, which we all tried to emulate.  Each morning we looked at the spoils from the day before to identify the features we liked and those that did not work so well.  Tyler and Julia also gave some excellent talks on their histories, work and sources of inspiration.

Katie Brown and Lyndsay Patterson, co-owners of Chronicle Glass, were superb hosts.  Workshops at The Chronicle are legendary on our local scene, and all expectations were certainly well fulfilled.  The beautifully appointed hotshop was a delight to behold and their warmth and enthusiasm for glass was evident in all aspects of their practice.

The daytime activity was equally matched by evening entertainment and dinners. One night we went out to the wild black sand west coast beach at Kai-Iwi to show the Canadians a spot of kiwi culture, swimming in the surf (it being mid-summer), and having a driftwood barbeque.

At the end of the workshop we all had lists of tips and tricks and none of us could wait to use the new things we had learnt.  Katie summed it up most succinctly when she said, “It’s like we’ve been stepping back in order to step forward.”  It was a fantastic way to start the year and we eagerly anticipate their next visit already.

Tyler and Julia are now in Australia for a few months. Tyler is completing his master’s at The Jam Factory in Adelaide and Julia will undertake a residency at Canberra Glassworks.

About the author: Rebecca Heap is the new president of the New Zealand Society of Artists in Glass (NZSAG).  She is a glassblower based in Auckland and has recently returned home after five years working with glass in Sweden.

Jamie Gray

What did I do in my summer vacation?  Some exciting stuff.  I can’t say it was a restful summer but then I think that’s probably the way I like it.  Beach holidays are not for me.  I admit I prefer the damp, sometimes rainy, occasionally downright miserable weather found in northern Scotland.  Oh, the sun also shines.  Just don’t expect it.

Rockin’ the North Lands gear Photo credit: Jamie Gray

My favourite summer getaway is the five or six weeks I spend yearly at North Lands Creative Glass in Caithness, Scotland.  For some years now I’ve been privileged to be involved in the operation of the master classes and conference.  I’ve been attending as the assistant studio technician, working with master technician Michael Bullen.  In this capacity, I help to keep the studio equipment running and students and tutors happy at their tasks.

Mieke Groot demo: high-fire enamels on glass Photo credit: Jamie Gray

This year, the theme of the conference and its surrounding four master classes, developed by artistic director Mieke Groot, was “Give and Take”.  The two-day conference offered talks by curators, heads of programs (Royal College of Art, the Victoria and Albert Museum, various European universities), international glass masters Paul Marioni, Susan Stinsmuehlen-Amend, and Angela Jarman, and world-renowned ceramicist Jacqueline Poncelet.  We enjoyed Glass Games organized by the Scottish Glass Society and an exhibition curated by them.  Glenfiddich Distillery sent an expert to give us a talk about Glenfiddich scotch as well as a tasting of three of their whiskeys.  We enjoyed a wonderful conference dinner followed by a traditional Scottish ceilidh (a smashing party, basically) that went into the wee hours.  People came from everywhere to attend; this year representing the Netherlands, Australia, Canada, Mexico, Croatia, the U.S., Japan, China, and everywhere in the UK.  It’s a wonderful experience being able to talk shop with folks working in glass in all these different places.  With all this, why would I want the boring old beach?

Paul Marioni pouring a sandcasting, assisted by TA Luisa Restrepo Photo credit: Jamie Gray

It’s important to know that as well as being a world-class centre for glass, North Lands is situated smack in the middle of a land full of the most amazing cemeteries, standing stones, burial cairns and other archaeological ruins.  Each year I try to visit something I’ve not yet seen.  This time around, local jeweler and glass artist, Patricia Neimann, treated me to an evening trip to a ruined pirate castle on the coast.  It’s not signposted and there are no paths to it.  It didn’t matter – in fact it helped – that it was an atmospherically damp evening and we had to clamber a mile through tall grass, into ditches and over walls to get to this ruin poised on the edge of a cliff.  Again: the beach?  Boring.  Oh, but if you do want beaches, Scotland has some amazing ones.  The second highest surfing waves in the world are found on the northern coast of Scotland.  Just saying.

Buchollie Castle, Caithness Photo credit: Patricia Neimann

The studio kitchen is the place to be – for internet access and socializing Photo credit: Jamie Gray

North Lands Creative Glass offers a glass experience that can’t be found anywhere else in the world.  The people are warm-hearted and lovely.  The weather is sometimes inclement but the studio’s doors are open to all.  The scotch is heartening and the shortbread rich and sweet.  My summer vacation this year was a highland high to remember.

North Lands Creative Glass is located in Lybster, a small fishing village on the south-eastern coast of northern Scotland.  You can learn more about the studio and its programs here:  info@northlandsglass.com.

Grande en Ecosse: Les Aventures en Vitraux dans les Highlands

Jamie Gray

Qu’est-ce que j’ai fait durant mes vacances d’été? Quelque chose de passionnant. Je ne peux pas dire que c’était un été reposant mais je pense que je les préfère comme ça. Les vacances à la plage ne sont pas pour moi. Je reconnais que je préfère l’humidité, quelquefois la pluie et de temps à autres le temps misérable qu’on trouve au nord de l’Ecosse. Et oui, le soleil brille aussi mais il ne faut pas trop s’y attendre.

Ma fuite favorite d’été sont les cinq ou six semaines que je prends chaque année au North Lands Creative Glass a Caithness, en Écosse. Pour quelques années, j’ai eu le privilège d’être participante dans les opérations des classes de maîtres et de conférence. J’ai participée comme assistante technicienne de studio et j’ai travaillée avec le maître technicien, Michael Bullen. Dans cette capacité, j’ai aidée à garder l’ équipement du studio en bonne marche et les étudiants et les professeurs heureux durant leurs travaux.

Mieke Groot

Cette année, le thème de la conférence et les quatre cours des maîtres, développés par le directeur artistique, Mieke Groot, se nommait, “Donne et Prend”( “Give & Take”). La conférence de deux jours offrait des causeries par les curateurs, directeurs des programmes (Le Collège Royal des Arts, le Musée de Victoria et Albert et diverse Universités Européennes), les maîtres de vitraux internationaux Paul Marioni, Susan Stinsmuehlen-Amend et Angela Jarman, et la céramiste de renommée mondiale Jacqueline Poncelet. Nous avons aimés les Jeux de Vitraux organisé par la Sociéteé de Vitraux Ecossais et l’exposition organisée par eux. La Distillerie Glenfiddich a envoyeé un expert pour nous parler à propos du scotch de Glenfiddich et en plus à une dégustation de trois de leurs whiskeys. Nous avons apprécié un dîner conférence suivi par une ceilidh traditionnelle écossaise ( une fête superbe dans le fond) qui s’est poursuivi jusqu’aux petites heures du matin. Les personnes sont venues de plusieurs régions pour participer à la conférence. Les pays représentés cette année sont les Pays-Bas, l’Australie, le Canada, le Mexique, la Croatie, les Etats-Unis, le Japon, la Chine et dans chaque région de l’Angleterre. C’est une expérience extraordinaire de pouvoir discuter avec tous les gens des différents pays à propos de nos ouvrages de vitraux. Avec tous celà, pourquoi je voudrais passer mon temps sur la plage ennuyante?

Paul Marioni

C’est important de savoir qu’en plus d’être un centre de première classe pour le vitrail, North Lands est situé en plein centre d’un lieu remplie de cimetières fantastiques avec plusieurs pierres tomballes historiques et autres ruines archéologiques . Chaque année, j’essaie de visiter un site nouveau que je n’ai pas vu. Cette fois , Patricia Newmann, artiste locale en bijouterie et vitrail, m’a gâtée en me faisant visiter en soirée un château de pirate en ruine le long de la côte. Cet endroit n’est pas indiqué et il n’y a pas de sentier pour s’y rendre. Mais ce n’est pas grave, de plus celà nous a aidé car c’était une soirée avec une atmosphère humide et nous avons dû marcher un mille dans les champs de haut foin ,traverser des fossées et monter des murs de pierres pour arriver sur ces ruines perchées au bord d’un précipice. Encore la plage ? Ennuyante! Oh! mais si vous voulez aller à la plage en Ecosse, ils ont des plages magnifiques. Les secondes plus grandes vagues pour le surf se trouvent sur la côte nord de l’Ecosse. Juste pour dire.

Le centre créatif de vitraux North Lands offre une expérience en vitrail que l’on ne peut retrouver ailleurs dans le monde. Les gens sont acceuillants, aimables et très chaleureux. La température peut être pénible mais les portes du studio sont toujours ouvertes à tous. Le scotch est réconfortant et les biscuits sablés sont riches et sucrés. Mes vacances de cette année dans les highlands sont des souvenirs inoubliables.

North Lands Creative Glass est situé à Lybster, un petit village de pêcheur sur la côte sud- est au nord de l’Ecosse.Vous pouvez en apprendre plus sur le studio et ses programmes sur le site: info@northlandsglass.com

By: Vasil Sirmanov, Hon. Chairman, “VitrEos” Association, Burgas, Bulgaria

This article will lead you far, far away – to the other side of the planet, deep inside the Balkan Peninsula in southeastern Europe. There lies my tiny and very beautiful country, Bulgaria (est. AD 681, Christian since AD 865), originator and disseminator of the Cyrillic alphabet, literature and Christianity to many medieval countries. I will tell you a story, that is a mixture of real facts and dreams, a story about ancient art and modern computers.

However unusual it may be, just in our small country, where stained glass (SG) art is rather exotic due to historical, geographical and financial reasons, a series of innovations for the practice of SG artists were suggested.

Ms. Dilyana Sirmanova

Computer-Assisted Stained Glass 

During her university master’s course in industrial design, Ms. Dilyana Sirmanova researched the possibilities for applying computer-assisted methods in many steps of the SG “cycle” (from the idea to the finished work of art). She proved that 17 of 30 steps of the “fusion” SG cycle can be computerized and that leads to more than 40 benefits in the practice of a SG artist.

Other innovations in her diploma work introduced the principles of Engineering Methods in the SG Art (EMA), Artistic-Technological Analyses (ATA) and Artistic-Technological Experiments (ATE).

To translate these innovations into practical methods for the general benefit, we established the NFP/NGO Association “VitrEos” and a modest amateur website.

And, here is our dream story: we want to build a world class Training-and-Research Studio “VitrEos” to teach young people to be interdisciplinary specialists – both in computer graphics and SG technologies.

How it will work?

Imagine that you are a student at “VitrEos”.  It is 8:45 a.m.  You enter the studio and pass along the “VitroSphere” gallery of small SG works of art, sent as presents from all over the world.  They are arranged by country, technology and authors.  You take a seat in the center of the unique “Mode computer system for the SG designer”.  Your training task today is to design a decorative SG panel for an imaginary reception hall.

As in all previous lessons, you read and work step-by-step according to the respective “Innovative Training Unit” (ITU). Using a graphical program, you draw many vector variants of your project, paint it with real “glass” colours and find several successful artistic solutions. Your huge flat monitor shows very realistically how your SG panel will look.

Next, you apply “engineering methods in the SG art“. What is this? Preliminary systematical examinations of every potential artistic-technological problem. You make an artistic-technological analysis of your project and mark all spots where you don’t know what will happen exactly at fusion as colours, forms, reliefs, edge- and optical-effects, etc. Then you plan a series of artistic-technological experiments with small glass cuts, which will give answers to all questions and will allow you to redesign your project correctly.

 So you may make, for example, a “matrix” of crossed strips with all possible colours for the project, fuse it in a kiln and know how the colours will look independently, as neighbours and one over another. Next, you investigate to what degree different colours will shrink. You make identical pairs of circles, squares, etc. of different glass and size and heat half of them at different temperatures, leaving their “twins” untouched.

Then, you compare original and fused samples and find that glass 1, 2 shrinks 12% at 800°C/15’, and glass 3 shrinks 15%, etc.

With all results ready, you return to the computer and redesign your project, correcting forms, sizes and colours. Now you are ready to show the project. The panel shines in full glory on the giant monitor as the synthesized Sun passes in the background.

The Benefits

At the end of your learning/working day is time to save some money. You scan and vectorize all waste glass clippings and save their named contours in a database. You will use some of them in next project, instead of cutting brand new glass. Good practice is also to save all samples and technological data from ATA and ATE in other database. It will grow and serve you dozens of years.

We described here some simple ideas about the imaginable computer-assisted process. When all possible (more than 50) methods are examined in our studio, turned into detailed instructions and used in the practice of SG artists, their work will be far easer and faster; cost- and time-effective.

Making the Dream Come True

Well, it is time to turn the dream into reality. My personal task as a man with experience of life and engineering is to ensure “starting” funds and to build the equipment of the Training-and-Research Studio.

Two words about me, the narrator of dreams. I am a dinosaur. Sixty years ago our planet was immense and endless; now my computer is two seconds away from yours. I am the father of Dilyana and intend to work tenaciously for months with my group of volunteers until we see the studio ready.

It has to be equipped with specific systems, tools and materials. As our resources are very limited, we took the road of most NFP NGOs to find sponsors. Here we met insurmountable difficulties. We spent 12-13 months in correspondence, meetings and talks with state and private “factors”, but our efforts were very discouraging. Practically – zero. Bulgaria is the poorest country in the EU; SG art is seen as exotic here and our idea to teach and research a highly-technological art sounds as “to build a ski-jumping ramp amid Sahara desert”.

We decided at last to ask our international SG community to support our initial steps. So, dear colleagues, please see our modest webpage for more information.  Let the chariot of Eos start.

By: Dominic Fondé
The Window Project is a collaborative effort created by Hannelore “Hanne” David, a photographer and filmmaker from Germany and Dominic Fondé, a glassblower and engraver from the United Kingdom, as Seidenreich. The project was conducted in Singapore from June to December 2011.

The aim of this project was to create a stained glass window that, while respecting the traditions of genre, works with a brand new aesthetic and incorporates modern materials.

Inspired by Singapore
As Seidenreich is based in Singapore, the subject and aesthetic was driven by what we saw and encountered here. Singapore is a land of contradictions: an island, a city, and a state all rolled into one. It has a long history as a part of Malaysia and subsequently as a British colony, but it is young as a republic just approaching its first half-century. As a result, the Window Project was about exploring Singapore, understanding what we saw here and articulating the perspective that being a foreign artist in Singapore gives us. In comparing our different cultural backgrounds, Seidenreich hoped to focus on Singaporean culture and develop a visual language to describe the sensations and experiences of living and working here.

For two European artists, Singapore was an exciting proposition. The Singapore skyline is full of contradictions and contrast. Ultra modern skyscrapers – the only logical solution to providing enough living and working space in the confines of an island – and one of the world’s biggest ferris wheels dominate the view, but in-between there are still pockets of more traditional Asian culture.

A Six-Month Residency in Singapore
We were invited to share the Window Project in a six-month residency at The Tanglin Trust School in Singapore. We worked under the gaze of teachers and A-level students; it was a fascinating way to work, both for Seidenreich and also for the students and staff of the school. For the students in particular, who have never encountered professional artists, the interaction was very rewarding. Working in a large open space, all aspects of the project were on display and the students frequently stopped to ask questions and watch with an intense curiosity.

In the Window Project, we aimed to examine both modern and traditional aspects of Singapore. The Window Project as a journey and the artists took a holistic view of the whole project as an artwork.

Looking Through the Window to See the Story
The starting point was to define a window in its role in our lives. Are windows simply a way to keep the weather out and let light in? Do they define how a person looks at the world? They are physical partitions, certainly, but they are also psychological ones. When we answer these questions, when we have a definition, we can use it to create an accessible language for anyone viewing the work. With this language in place it should be possible to plot a course to the final window installation.

This definition began to take shape during discussion in the earliest part of the project. Motivations and views on the function of art were recorded first, with Dominic stating “Art is how we interpret the world, map its meanings, express our reactions to it and even attempt to change it”.

Dominic’s Statement
Explaining why he chooses glass as his material he said: “I believe that glass is the defining material of this period in history. No material is as ubiquitous and no material has had such an influence on the human race. In exactly the way that metals defined the Iron Age and Bronze Age, defining its cultural, social and technological culture, glass defines our current world influences – everything from architecture to medical science to electronics. Through mirrors and lenses it has shaped how the human race perceives itself; so to make art from glass, and examine what it means to be part of the human race from this perspective, is to interact with the glass age in the most direct manner possible. Art is how we interpret the world around us. It is a form of communication, a language. I often describe myself as a storyteller. I want to use this language to tell stories”.

Hanne’s Statement
From Hanne’s point of view, she noted, “People can choose what they like. An artist does not dictate; they are an observer. It is a democratic language. Art is able to confront people in their normal life with different points of view. This allows them to question their normal life. Confusion allows growth,” and explaining what it means for her to express herself as an artist she says, “I try to understand myself, with all my emotions and history and what is behind those emotions and experiences, so I can understand people and how the world is going”.

The Concept Behind the Window Project
From these discussions, it was possible to state that the Window Project developed the concept of the window as a metaphor for external consensual realities of the physically manifest world and the subjective internal realities of thoughts, emotions and ideas as well as the modern phenomena of “virtual realities such as cyberspace”.

These inner and outer realities may be separated by a windowpane, or the window may be the portal to pass between these realms; perhaps it is simply the screen on which information from one reality is presented for a viewer to read, or a complex convergence of different realities to be observed and experienced.

Commenting on this, Hanne noted, “The outer and the inner realities, both have different qualities. The outer and inner realities, although they may be personal and subjective and different from each other, are nevertheless real. These realities have big potential for humans because we create a symbolic history or story with them. The space behind the window, the inner reality, an inner story, with this story you can accept or understand yourself as a human. Every step in the journey to explore these ideas will have as a result, an artwork, shown in a exhibition at the end of December 2011 in Singapore”.

images courtesy of Dominic Fonde

Making the Window
All this should indicate that the nature of the project was challenging to say the least. The combination of different media such as photography, film, glass, even audio and scent-based aspects was technically difficult as was the task to create something with a coherent aesthetic from the different views and statements of the artists. Testing and experimentation across a slew of techniques including photography, film and glass were crucial to the successful realization of the project and the definition of the aesthetic sought.

In gathering information for the project, we interviewed a traditional business shop owner in Singapore. The resulting video was part of the installation and the footage was used as the basis of a story engraved onto the window. In addition, a portrait was engraved as a view from the outer wider world, connecting architecture and technology to the inner world via the people of Singapore. We included photographs to describe the atmosphere and the surroundings of the business at it relates to historical Singapore. We decided to use traditional colours to underline traditional aspects of Singapore in contrast with the new architecture and technology. This necessitated multiple test firings in the kiln to find a suitable palette of coloured glass.

Yet another factor was the size of the glass pieces that could be made in the kiln and how they could be assembled or connected for the final installation. Due to the multi-disciplinary nature of this project, Seidenreich sought input from scientists and other crafts people. Including many different specialists gave us the opportunity to hear their perspectives and ideas, which was the most interesting aspect of the artwork. Teachers from Tanglin Trust School physics department, and departments in Singapore Universities were approached for their input to the project as well.

The artwork is now complete and we are negotiating with venues in Singapore for a place to exhibit it for several months.

By Rika Kuroki

Japan is a country sitting on numerous faults, where 10% of all the earthquakes in the world occur, shaking up one place or another constantly.  We have had devastating earthquakes periodically; the last massive one, still fresh in our memory, in Kobe on January 17, 1995, which claimed 6000 precious lives.  But what we had on March 11, 2011 seemed unprecedented in our recorded history.  We have since found out that there are traces of a precedent and an ancient script mentioning an earthquake and monstrous tsunami of the same magnitude, which also destroyed a vast area in the northern Japan a millennium ago, but as it was so far back in our history its impact had been totally forgotten.  This current catastrophe has affected the lives of the Japanese populace in such diverse ways, that the reality in front of our eyes and the world we live in changed forever in one way or the other.

In the glass community, there was of course quite a bit of effect.  I have two friends who have their studio in Miyagi prefecture, close to the epicentre, and it took a while to find out if they survived the quake or not.  One of them is Eiji Shiga, whose Glass Studio Kirlo and home is located about 20 km west of Sendai Airport, which was swallowed by the giant tsunami.  The quake hit his studio just a few days after he started melting glass in his furnace to begin making pieces for a solo show in April.  The furnace went down as soon as the initial quake hit due to the power outage, and all the ceramic roof tiles of the building were shattered.  The power was out for a week and it took ten days to have running water back.  All his exhibition schedules were postponed indefinitely, and two of them were cancelled because the galleries did not exist anymore.  He was able to get back into blowing glass about a month later by melting clear cullet in a small pot placed in the glory hole, and he started exhibiting again in May, though most of his pieces had to be made with simple techniques due to limitations in his facility.

Glass work by Eiji Shiga entitled Flow

Also, as in the rest of Japan, there is a looming fear of nuclear fallout from Fukushima Power Plant.  This has caused some of Eiji’s clients to worry that his pieces might be “contaminated” with radiation as his studio is only about 100 km from the infamous power plant.  Therefore he has less clients buying or even coming to see his work.  But on the other hand, there are movements to give more exhibition opportunities to the earthquake survivor artists, and he says he was offered more opportunities than he could handle at this moment and had to turn down some of them.  Right now, Eiji says he is just happy that both he and his wife and all of his extended family survived the Disaster of the Millennium, and that he is still able to work in his own studio.  Currently he is inviting fellow survivors living in provisional housing to come and experience glass blowing in his studio, and he says hearing their stories of survival simply amaze him and give him courage to go on living each day. 

But there are others who were not as fortunate as Eiji, such as Koji Murayama whose Kaiba Glass Studio is also located about 25 km west of Seidai Airport. He was not able to resume blowing glass in his studio until August because of extensive damage in his home and studio.

Sahara Glass series by Koji Murayama. The glass is made by melting sand from the Sahara Desert. These pieces survived the earthquake.

But even with the facilities unharmed, there were many others who were unable to restart their furnaces due to the power outage or from fear of constantly recurring after shocks, some of which were as big as magnitude 6.  Eiji also mentioned a kiln worker friend, whose inventory of Bullseye glass was shattered into pieces.  And, of course, the power outages have been getting in the way of firings.  Others, farther away from the disaster area, were having issues of their own.  Having been exposed to a constant visual bombardment on TV and the Internet of the total destruction happening up north pushed many into a state of mild depression, affecting their creative activities.  It seems as if the overload of visual information was beyond their imagined reality making them go into deep thoughts concerning the meaning of creating works, which was the complete opposite of what they had been seeing after March 11.

On the other hand, there were artists and galleries actively organizing charity events and exhibitions to raise money for the people in need.  The movement started by Tomohiro Kano is unique.  Tomohiro Kano is a kiln-casting artist whose home and studio are in the heart of Tokyo.

Gate. A kiln cast glass monument developed for 'Rainbow 2000'at Doshi, Yamanashi Prefecture, Japan in 1999 by Tomohiro Kano

Tomohiro is a very close friend of Koji Murayama in Sendai, and he went to help his friend out in the beginning of April this year.  What he saw on the way to and back from Murayama’s Kaiba Glass Studio was literally hell on earth, and he felt a strong urge from deep within himself to do something to help the survivors but to do this as an artist.  He came up with the idea to ask people working with glass to make cups for the survivors, each one with a short heart-warming message from the artist to the recipient.  His concept was to gift the survivors something unique and precious, so they can feel the pleasure of owning something again after having their homes and all their belongings destroyed in the earthquake or washed away into the ocean.  He announced this project on Twitter and other social networking sites, as well as on his blog the day after he came home from up north.  This is an ongoing project, which is currently in its second phase, asking artists to make cups which will be delivered to the residents of government-provided provisional housing in Iwate prefecture.  So far, since July, the glasses have been delivered to two communities.  He calls it “My Glass Movement” and the progress is reported periodically in his blog set up for this purpose.

Garden of Gleams. Kiln cast glass and light installation in Tokyo Shiodome Building. Pool dimensions W40m×D21m by Tomohiro Kano

But the earthquake and tsunami might become the least of our problems in the future.  The larger haunting issue is the infamous damaged nuclear power plant in Fukushima, which is still spewing out radioactive matter to this day.  Though the government claims it is not as bad as it seems, many people are sceptical of what they sayas there is a large amount of information saying otherwise all over the Internet.  Nowadays, it is almost impossible to know what is the most accurate information, but what we know for sure is when information closer to the truth is uploaded to the Internet, the government eventually admits that it was actually happening.  In September, they admitted that the situation in Fukushima was beyond melt down, and a “small amount” of molten core had melted through the crucible that contained it.  This announcement happened six months after it happened.  With the haunting fear of radiation looming all over eastern Japan, many people are seriously considering migrating to the western or southern part of the country or even abroad.  Masato and Maho Ota, who moved to the town of Kasama in Ibaragi Prefecture four years ago and built Ota Glass Studio, are now seriously contemplating moving abroad.

Glassware by Ota Glass Studio

Kasama, located north of Tokyo, is the oldest center of ceramic production in eastern Japan, and it is a popular place to live among artists of various media.  Masato and Maho Ota chose this location to build their studio for its creative environment, not only because they could constantly be in touch with artists and their finely crafted works, but also because of the nature around this area.  In the past four years, they have nurtured their studio into quite an establishment, with a constant growth in business.  After the earthquake and melt down in Fukushima, they launched extensive research to find out about the actual threat of radiation to their health because they were afraid for the wellbeing of their twelve year old daughter and five year old son.  Living only 140 km away from the Fukushima power plant, the level of radiation in their area would sometimes become alarmingly high.  After two months, they decided to move out of the country, at least until they are convinced that it is safe to move back and live there again.  They say it is heart wrenching to move away from the place they love so much, but with what is going on only 140 km away, and with the unreliability in what the government is saying and doing for the well being of Japanese populace, they think it is the best choice they can currently make.

Lighting by Ota Glass Studio

At this moment none of us know how things will develop in the future, but it is still far from over, and it will probably take decades or maybe even centuries to restore what the destruction caused by the Disaster of the Millennium has wrought.  On the other hand, I believe that this was a wake up call, not only for us Japanese, but to all of mankind living on the face of this beautiful blue planet, to rethink and re-evaluate our ways of living in regards to how we could create a world in harmony with each other and with the environment we live in.

By Tomoko Doi, translated by Ryoko Sato

I greatly appreciate the worldwide support we received for the Great East Japan Earthquake that occurred on March 11, 2011.  The great tsunami took many lives and displaced many who survived.  In terms of glass and ceramics, big museums had measures for the earthquake and the damages were limited for them, but outside these institutions there were irreparable damages and losses.

The Mashiko Reference Collection Museum, Destroyed climbing kiln (salt kiln)(made in 1954) used by Shoji Hamada, credit: Rebuild-Mashiko

As far as I have researched, there were no glass studios directly damaged by the tsunami, but the earthquake damaged or destroyed a few glass furnaces.  For the ones who survived the main shock, the shortage of water and electricity has made leading a normal life difficult. With the lack of information about the disaster and simply not knowing when the power would return, running a furnace became difficult. Most studios had to shut down temporarily.  It is notable that neither ceramic nor glass studios caught fire. I want fellow artists working with “fire” to know that even in the midst of the strong shakings, artists risked their lives to prevent uncontrolled fires.

The earthquake was not only about the main shock.  On the day itself, there were almost a hundred aftershocks.  Japan is an earthquake country, but it was unprecedented to shake so long in such a large area.

Inside of the destroyed climbing kiln, credit: Rebuild-Mashiko

Compared to glass, ceramics were hit much worse. Traditional ceramic centers, such as Mashiko, Kasama and Oborisoma are located in the area heavily hit by the earthquakes and many pieces of art as well as traditional climbing kilns and historical kilns were destroyed.  Oborisoma is also located within the evacuation zones of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant and to this day, their future is uncertain.

Except for some, most glass studios managed, through their own efforts, to reopen by the end of April in order to prepare for summer, which is the glass season in Japan. Many questioned the meaning of being a glass artist in such a circumstance.  Everyone is grateful that they can “create” and are working hard; however, time seems to pass in a different way and what was “normal” before the disaster seems somehow lost forever.

Collected shards of broken ceramics, credit: Rebuild-Mashiko

It will still take a long time for the areas damaged by the tsunami to return to normality and I feel frustrated in the slow process of recovery.  What can I do, through glass, to help?  I still do not know, but I (and many others) would be grateful if the international glass network could help in one way or another in the process of recovery. 

Within Japan, glass artists have taken active part in projects such as charity exhibitions, sending day ware to victims.  Some design and create specific objects for which part of the proceeds are set-aside as relief funds.  I have also participated in a project to help rebuild Mashiko, by making necklaces combining glass and ceramic fragments.

Glass and Mashiko ceramic shard pieces made for the project “Rebuild Mashiko, connecting the shards”, artist: Tomoko Doi, credit: Rebuild-Mashiko

But, as a glass artist, who uses a lot of energy and lives in East Japan, the nuclear power plant accident, with the resulting shortage of electricity and the ongoing problem with radioactive contamination, has created very difficult and complicated issues to grapple with.  It is not easy to find a solution.

Glassfish heart project, created by: Takumi Ooba, credit:Takumi Ooba

By Ryoko Sato

Hiroshi Hamadate, Earth, 2007

Japan has a long tradition in crafts and, as in many other countries, glass is considered as part of the crafts.  But glass does not yet have a long-standing tradition, as does ceramics, wood, lacquer and textile. Japan began producing everyday glass in the 17^th century but it was only with modernization at the end of the 19^th century that it became industrialized. It was in the 70’s, with the arrival of the studio glass movement from the United States, that glass came to be recognized as an important material within the crafts tradition.  Since then glass artists have had to make their own niche within the scene.  Over the years, though still seen as “new comer,” glass has firmly established its position in Japan.  There are now over twenty educational institutions where you can study glass and over three hundred glass studios.

Tomoko Doi, Glass Sweets, 2009

In 1998, the second generation of studio glass artists were becoming leading figures in the glass scene and the first international glass conference occurred in Japan.  The Glass Art Society (GAS) conference was held in Seto.  A result of that, Sandbox, is a collective of eight emerging Japanese glass artists. The collective started when glass artist Mica Okuno began teaching a sand casting course at Kenji Ito’s private glass studio, Aya Glass Studio, in Kawasaki, Japan.  The unique quality of sandcast glass and the illusionary space inside the solid glass captivated us, Mica’s students, and soon we sought to explore sandcasting techniques outside the limits of the course.  We decided to name ourselves “Sandbox” after the box that contained the sand we used to make our moulds.  And we began organizing projects together.  We named our solid glass sculptural pieces and our exhibitions “KATAMARI Glass” which literally means “solid glass” in Japanese.  The eight of us all had different backgrounds – ceramic, fashion, anthropology, geology, architecture and design – and we explored the possibilities of sandcasting in different ways and established individual styles with the help of each other.

Kanami Ogata, Conversation, 2010

Takeshi Ito, Either the First Home or the Forgetful Things, 2009

Eleven years ago when we organized the “KATAMARI Glass I ” exhibition at the Meguro Art Museum Citizen’s Gallery in Tokyo, an exhibition presenting only sculptural glass was rare, especially exhibitions of only sandcast glass objects.  Sandcasting was not a technique popular in Japan.  Our aim was to present sculptural glass to the wider public and to present the potential of sandcast glass to fellow glass artists. We wanted to be informative and made short videos showing the process of sand casting, which accompanied the exhibition.

Mika Okuno, untitled, 2010

Mio Muraka, Shin ko kyu, 2008

In 2000, “KATAMARI Glass II” followed.  In 2001, we submitted a proposal to participate in the Glass Art Society’s (GAS) annual conference.  To our surprise, the Society accepted our proposal and Sandbox was invited as an official demonstrator – a first for a group – to the 2002 annual GAS conference held in Amsterdam.  Not satisfied with just demonstrating our techniques, we held an exhibition to coincide with the conference called “KATAMARI Glass in Amsterdam”.

Ryoko Sato, The Cute and the Grotesque - Blue Bear, 2003

Our Amsterdam demonstration and exhibition led to an invitation from kiln manufacturer, Barratcha Lda, to hold workshops and exhibit our work in Portugal.  We were also invited to show our work at a Dutch gallery, Werfkade 16.  These experiences were interesting to us in that we were in the position to “give” knowledge while in Japan we were in a position to “receive” knowledge from the west or from the traditional crafts.   After our projects in Europe, we thought it was time to organize a project in Japan, where we envisioned a show where visitors could feel what the environment of sculpture glass is like and not just look at the works on display as disinterested observers.  A 17th century Confucian temple open to the public, Yushima Temple in the heart of Tokyo, deeply inspired us.  We realized our first outdoor exhibition in May 2006, using the inner courtyard and the cloister of the temple.  The exhibition was entitled “KATAMARI Glass @ Yushima Temple.”

Since then, we have had several projects in Belgium, one of the members, Ryoko Sato, being based there.  In September 2007, we had an exhibition at A&D Gallery in Antwerp, and in the following year we completed a project, which included a residency, exhibition and a workshop at the Glazen Huis in Lommel.

We find it important to record our activities and have made two catalogues, one for “KATAMARI Glass @ Yushima Temple” and one for the Belgium exhibition in 2010.

Currently there are six active Sandbox members and two are taking a break.  The six members are now well-established glass artists with unique styles.  They are no longer bound to sand casting, but use other techniques.  They continue to be fascinated by solid glass.

Tomoko Doi is based in Tsukuba and has a background in ceramics.  Both her own stories and fairly tales often inspire her pieces.  In her playful and colourful figures and houses, she encloses what she calls “source of happiness.”  “I believe happiness lies right in front of you.  You just need to look carefully and nurture it.”  She hopes her pieces will “bring a smile to people and be a small seed for happiness.”

Kanami Ogata is based in Yokohama.   In the poetic world of Kanami, words and images are enclosed within glass.  Her pieces are about beginning, “a door which leads you to another place.  I make my pieces to capture and record the invisible matters (emotions, memories and thoughts) which surround me by using a transparent material called glass.”

Mio Muraki, In the Silence - Recollection of the Sea, 2004

Mio Muraki and Hiroshi Hamadate run a hot glass studio, Ipada Glass Studio, in Kanagawa.  The studio is by a beautiful stream, with fireflies in the summer.  Mio Muraki, in her massive sculptures, captures traces of time and moments.  Some are inspired by nature, while others are more abstract as giving shape to “shinkokyu,” a Japanese word for breathing in deeply and exhaling.  “When I think about ‘shinkokyu,’ an act necessary for living, I realize we unconsciously do it on so many different occasions and reasons – for being happy, sad, touched and so on.  I thought of expressing these moments in glass.”

Hiroshi Hamadate is captivated by the wonders of nature and the magic of solid transparent glass. For Hiroshi, nature is filled with surprises and he translates his awe of nature into glass.  “Once a year, when the time is fulfilled, on a night of full moon, corals lay eggs all at once.”  Hiroshi’s works are simple and subtle.  Small bubbles, fine lines and a slight deformation expand the world beyond the limits of the glass.

Mica Okuno, untitled, 2008

It is difficult to imagine Mica Okunos’ powerful pieces are created in a tiny studio in the heart of Tokyo.   Mica’s pieces are manifestations of her ongoing investigation of space and light, which began during her studies at the Gerrit Rietveld Academie (1991-94) in Amsterdam.  “A space quietly exists within a translucent skin.  I fill the space with transparent glass.  Transformed into glass, light inhabits the space.  Light enables glass to expand infinitively and glass transforms light into energy.”

Takeshi Ito, Sweetri, 2010

Takeshi Ito has been studying in Prague since the fall of 2010.  He continues to pursue his theme of “passing on.”  He believes that “life is about passing on something to a successor:  children, loved ones and strangers.  Passing on is life itself.”  Tricycles, representing love of parents to children and hedgehogs, representing love, re-occur in his sculptures and installations.  The colour red, which represents communication, connection and relationship in Japan, is his signature colour.  For Ito, glass is a material which can hold light, darkness, air, will and time – fragile, yet all encompassing.

Shinsaku Fukutaka, Shape and Glass and Light, 2008

Shinsaku Fukutaka is currently focusing on his job as a designer at a Japanese glass company and is taking a break from the Sandbox.  His work is an investigation of light, form and the nature of glass.  His experience of studying at Australia and Helsinki after his studies in Japan, has led him to question what Japanese aesthetics is and what it means to be Japanese. “My stay in Australia made me reconfirm how deeply my aesthetics was rooted in Japan and how the environment, nature, religion and language can influence ones work.”   He hopes to reflect his investigation in his work as a designer.

Ryoko Sato, Piggy Banks of Memories, 2007-09

I, Ryoko Sato, am based in Antwerp, Belgium, and I’m also taking a break from the Sandbox after the birth of my second child.  I greatly appreciate the skills and high level of quality in Japanese glass; at the same time I am influenced by my time at the Gerrit Rietveld Academie in Amsterdam (2001-04) and have developed a more conceptual approach.   I observe, remember and collect my daily experiences.  Some are objects, others are thoughts and some are long distance memories.  Glass serves as a capsule to enclose such treasures and transform seemingly insignificant matters to personal and precious objects.

Since Sandbox has organized our first exhibition in 2000, the environment surrounding glass art in general and our own lives has changed considerably.  Yet we believe that there is good reason to continue working as a collective.  We still do not know what our next project is, but we are looking into different options.  “Taking initiative” has been our ethos for the past ten years.  Japan has always been on the receiving end of ideas from the American and European glass art scene.  We hope to slowly turn the tables so that Japan becomes an “originator” in the glass art world.  Working towards this goal, we hope to continue our activities as Sandbox, at our own pace, in our own style.

An international conference addressing expanded practice in studio glass

Andrew Lavery

Director, Bachelor of Visual Arts, Subject Chair, Glass Studio, Sydney College of the Arts, The University of Sydney and the Ausglass Conference Chair

  Aim

Peripheral Vision engages questions crucial to the future of artists, educators, writers, galleries and institutions working with the glass medium. This conference aims to stimulate and provoke fresh critical thinking by broadening the possibilities of studio glass in Australia. Peripheral Vision aims to review the diversity of contemporary local and international approaches to making that challenge the palatable aesthetic, subject matter and contextual boundaries of studio glass.

In 1995 writer/curator William Warmus proposed the end of the first wave of the American studio glass movement. In the 1980s and 1990s, the efforts of key Australian craftspeople, educators and historians to establish a distinctive local studio glass style is well documented, but little reflection has followed. This conference presents a new opportunity for some long due critical analysis. ⁱ

Marina Hyasat, Burden from the Blue Soul series, 2010, glass, sterling silver, 360 x 110 x 100 mm, photo: Matt Hoggett

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Reigniting the discussion – observations

For over a decade, critics and scholars have questioned the legitimacy of medium-specific protectionism and whether championing of a popular style or aesthetic is healthy for the progression of the medium. In a paper delivered at the Ausglass Conference in 1993, titled the Australian Glass Community, scholar Sue Rowley observed the following, “The Australian glass community is likely to protect privilege and resist incursions from other art forms and intellectual practices,” and that “Experience from other disciplines and art forms suggests that new leaders tend to emerge from previously marginalised areas of thought and practice.” ⁱⁱ Around the same time, writer Nola Anderson argued that the commercial success of boutique glass was effectively marginalising the work of practitioners from contexts such as design and production. ⁱⁱⁱ Recently critic Suzanne Frantz expressed similar concerns in her chapter of the book titled Australian Glass Today. Her chapter, titled Notes from a Distant Observer, discussed the reliance on the Australian landscape and environment to support a claim of uniqueness and its use to carve out a niche for Australian glass as a whole. She argued that specific protectionism and championing of elements of Australian glass is no longer necessary and that work should either stand or fail on its own, whatever the context. ^iv

Robert Stewart, One, H 1300 x W 800 x D 250 mm, 2010, Photo: Greg Piper

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Current issues

Within current international debates about the future of studio glass are issues of stagnation, commercial imperatives, the fetishisation of technique, connoisseurship and a lack of critical discourse amongst makers. In a keynote address at a recent conference, titled Shaping the Future of Craft, artist Martin Puryear describes craft as taking on a form of “semantic indeterminacy”, in that it wants to be art, can be design and no longer wants to be called craft. A similar argument was presented by scholar Bruce Metcalf, in a recent lecture at the 2009 GAS conference. His lecture titled, The Glass Art Conundrum, presented the argument that craft and art are not the same. ^vvi He asserted that craftspeople have been claiming that they are artists for decades without engaging in the discourse of contemporary art or understanding its complex history and current practices. He argued that glass artists have to be prepared to not use glass if they want to be accepted in the temple of contemporary art. His conclusion was that the majority of studio glass falls within the contexts of craft, design and decorative arts, not contemporary art. ^vii

Much of the criticism levelled against the Australian Studio Glass Movement is similar to that of the American movement and the points raised in Metcalf’s lecture. The modernist legacy of material-specific studio-based practices driven by aesthetics and the fetishizing of skills can be traced back to burgeoning Australian movement of the 1970’s, when European educators were employed by the various university programs. At the same time contemporary art was acquainting itself with conceptual, inter-disciplinary and post-studio practice. The now mature Australian Studio Glass Movement is facing a similar set of changes to contemporary art in the 1970’s, with the emergence of a new generation of artists producing work that operates within different parameters.

Detail of Robert Stewart's One

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Hybrid practice

These practitioners are often highly skilled in glass techniques and regularly exit the craft and design sphere to work and exhibit in a diversity of contexts. Some of these practitioners are creating what has been termed the hybridised object. Hybrid objects blur the traditional boundaries between artistic media such as sculpture, film, performance, craft, design and architecture in the form of a cross-disciplinary or multidisciplinary practice. Hybrid art forms expand the possibilities for experimentation and innovation in craft, design and contemporary art by making interventions and investigations in other disciplines, such as natural and physical science, industry, technology, literature, popular culture, or philosophy. ^viii Recently, new movements coined post-glass or guerrilla glass have gathered momentum, particularly in America. These artists openly reject the well- respected traditions of studio glass by making use of ubiquitous new media. ^ix

Marina Hyasat, Ego, 2010, glass, 200 x 220 x 450 mm , photo: Matt Hoggett

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New paradigms

Internationally, craft and design institutions are removing or lowering the emphasis of craft in their names in a response to changing practices and contexts outlined above. One example is the Museum of Arts & Design in New York, formerly the American Craft Museum. This allows them to be sympathetic to a greater diversity of approaches, enabling them to expand their audiences. ^x

With development and support, these new paradigms will provide opportunity and scope for practitioners, writers, galleries and institutions to venture outside the traditional constructs of studio glass and reach broader audiences. Peripheral Vision seeks to challenge the conservative image of studio glass and expand the focus of people who work with glass, by investigating innovative and diverse approaches in the use of glass in a range of contexts.

Robert Stewart, One Two, 200 x 450 x 250 mm, 2010, Photo: Greg Piper

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Peripheral Vision will address these issues under the following categories:

i)       Institutions and Galleries

Are the strategies of our institutions and galleries aligned with new international currents in glass and do they support a range of contexts? Looking to the future, how can galleries and institutions support and enhance contemporary practice using the glass medium? Are museums, galleries and glass prizes meeting the changing needs of artists and audiences? Are they capturing and educating audiences and collectors by exhibiting glass work that is progressive and challenging of traditional constructs of studio glass? How can commercial galleries work with the artist run spaces and public galleries in the presentation and promotion of emerging artists and art forms?

ii)      Contemporary Practice

What differentiates one form of practice in the glass medium from the other? What sort of art is glass art? How can artists form a critical expanded practice that doesn’t destroy their income? Is there a happy medium between decorum and concept? Is there a framework for establishing a critical practice? Do studio glass practitioners need to pay greater attention to theory surrounding the material and its relevance to a concept? How have practitioners entered these contexts and how successful have they been? Are these contexts overlooked and what are the opportunities for expanding these areas into the future? Where do skills, virtuosity and connoisseurship fit within these contexts and how do we value and support these areas? Who are the innovators in this context?

Marina Hyasat , Metamorphosis II from In the State of Becoming series, 2008, glass, cotton, 550 x 330 x 300 mm, photo: Greg Piper

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iii)     Design and Production

What is the history of design and production in studio glass and how has it informed studio glass in Australia? Are these contexts overlooked and what are the opportunities for expanding these areas into the future? Who are the innovators in this context and how are they positioning themselves within this context?

iv)     Critical Discourse

With the scarce amount of critical discourse surrounding Australian studio glass, are there debates that need to be initiated or reignited to expand and develop the movement? What is the theory surrounding the medium and how can this be applied in the development of concepts? Has the strength of the master narrative of Australian Studio glass overlooked some pertinent contexts and practices on the periphery? Should we be recognising the styles and idioms that we reference more readily before calling them our own? Should we be looking at the way we write about studio glass? How can we change the way we write about glass to give it more currency across contexts? Is there an amount of backslapping and self-congratulatory writing that is hindering the progress of the material in critical terms? How can writers constructively add to discourse in a way that will take the medium forward?

Marina Hyasat, Threshold from In the State of Becoming series, 2009, glass, nylon, 500 x 300 x 280 mm, photo: Greg Piper

vi)     Education

Is the Bauhaus methodology still relevant and is the brain to pedestal paradigm moving with the times? Can the skills-based elements of the Bauhaus style approach be adopted in the development of a hybridised or interdisciplinary approach that embraces experimentation? What is the ideal balance between skills, theory and concept? What sorts of practice should we be encouraging into the future? What areas of theory are well suited to the glass and how can these be integrated into our educational programs?

vii) Technique and Virtuosity

How do we maintain the heritage of the practical skills and knowledge the movement has developed over nearly four decades? How do we develop and support practitioners who wish to work within this context? What are the pitfalls of this focus and how does one avoid them? Who are the practitioners who are reinterpreting the skills heritage in an innovative and forward thinking fashion? Does collaboration with contemporary art, design and architecture lead to innovation and does this filter into the studio glass movement in Australia?

Andrew Lavery’s website is www.andrewlavery.com and more info on the Ausglass Conference can be found at www.ausglass.org.au.

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Robert Stewart, One Two Three, 900 x 800 x 100 mm, 2010, photo: Greg Piper

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i           William Warmus, The End, Glass Magazine, autumn, 1995

ii          Susanne Frantz, Notes from a Distant Observer in Australian Glass Now Today, Wakefield Press, South Australia, 2005, p.38

iii         Noris Ioannau, Australian Studio Glass – The Movement its Makers and Their Art, Craftsmen House, New South Wales, 1995, p. 48

iv         Sue Rowley, Australian Glass Community, In a paper delivered at the Ausglass Conference, 1993

v          Martin Puryear, Shaping the Future of Craft, Keynote Address: Shaping the Future of Craft, American Crafts Council, New York, p. 25

vi         Bruce Metcalf, The Glass Art Conundrum, The 2009 Strattman Lecture, Glass Art Society (America) Conference, Corning New York.

vii        Ibid. Metcalf viii Susan Rotilie, Hybrid Art Forms, http://schools.walkerart.org/arttoday/index.wac?id=2355, accessed Sunday 6 September, 2009

ix         A post-glass artist or glass guerilla is what happens when people who either are bewilderingly unable or desire not to cope with obvious, well-established, perfectly reasonable techniques and methods laid out for them by time and history and tradition, come together in a post-modern world; a post-modern world of which ubiquitous new media is an integral part. http://howisthisglass.blogspot.com/ Yukanjali, Post Glass Artists: Who are they? (accessed August 19, 2009

x          Carmine Branagan, Shaping the Future of Craft, American Crafts Council, New York, p. 23

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Vision périphérique: 15e Conférence Australienne Biennale du Verre Ausglass, Sydney

20-23 Janvier 2011

Une conférence internationale se penchant sur l’élargissement des pratiques verrières

Andrew Lavery

Directeur de la Conférence Ausglass

Objectif

Vision Périphérique se penche sur la question cruciale de l’avenir réservé aux artistes, enseignants, auteurs, galeries et institutions travaillant avec le verre. Cette conférence a pour but de stimuler et de provoquer une nouvelle réflexion critique en élargissant les possibilités alternatives des ateliers verriers d’Australie. L’objectif est de répertorier les diverses approches contemporaines régionales et internationales afin de challenger l’esthétique usuel plaisant qui thématise et limite les contextes de la verrerie.

En 1995, l’auteur/conservateur William Warmus sous-entendit la fin de la première vague du mouvement artistique verrier américain. Dans les années 1980 et 1990, les efforts fournis par les principaux artisans, enseignants, et historiens australiens pour établir un style verrier distinctif local sont incontestables, mais peu de réflexion s’en est suivie. Cette conférence donne une nouvelle chance à cette occasion d’en faire l’analyse critique si attendue.ⁱ

Relancer la discussion – observations

Depuis plus d’une décennie, les critiques et les spécialistes se sont questionnés sur l’intérêt du protectionnisme envers un matériau spécifique et si le fait d’entretenir un certain esthétique ou style populaire était sain pour l’évolution du support en question. Lors de la conférence Ausglass de 1993, Sue Rowley constate dans son écrit intitulé La communauté Verrière Australienne que “La communauté australienne du verre a tendance à protéger ses privilèges et résiste aux incursions d’autres formes d’arts et de pratiques intellectuelles”, et que “Les compétences provenant d’autres formes de disciplines et d’arts sous-entendent l’émergence potentielle de nouveaux leaders issus de ces domaines de pensées et de pratiques autrefois marginalisés.”ⁱⁱ Au même moment, l’auteur Nola Anderson soutient que le succès commercial des boutiques verrières marginalise effectivement le travail de ceux pratiquants dans les contextes du design et de la production.ⁱⁱⁱ Récemment devenue critique d’art, Suzanne Frantz exprime les mêmes inquiétudes dans un chapitre de son livre Le Verre Australien De Nos Jours. Son chapitre Remarques d’un Observateur à Distance se demande jusqu’à quel point il est possible de se reposer sur le paysage australien ainsi que sur son environnement pour revendiquer son originalité et l’utiliser dans le but de fournir un secteur niche au verre australien en général. Elle prétend qu’un protectionnisme spécifique n’est plus nécessaire et que le l’oeuvre devrait alors soit réussir par elle-même soit échouer, indépendamment du contexte.^iv

Questions actuelles

On retrouve au cœur des débats internationaux actuels sur l’avenir des verreries, des inquiétudes concernant la stagnation, les impératifs commerciaux, la fétichisation de certaines techniques, l’expertise et sur le manque de discours critique parmi les créateurs. Lors d’une conférence récente, l’artiste Martin Puryear définit l’artisanat dans son discours introductif  Définir l’Avenir de l’Artisanat comme étant en phase “d’indétermination sémantique”, sous-entendant qu’il se veut art et même parfois design et ne souhaite plus s’appeler artisanat. Un argument similaire a été présenté récemment au cours de la conférence GAS de 2009 par le spécialiste Bruce Metcalf. Sa présentation s’intitulant Le Mystère de l’Art Verrier défend la théorie qu’artisanat et art sont différents.^vi Il y mentionne que les artisans se proclament artistes depuis des décennies sans jamais avoir été réellement en lien avec le discours de l’art contemporain ni cherché à comprendre son histoire complexe et ses pratiques actuelles. Selon lui, les artistes verriers doivent s’attendre à travailler avec d’autres matériaux s’ils souhaitent obtenir leur droit d’entrée au palais de l’art contemporain. Il conclue suite à cela que la plupart des ateliers verriers relèvent en fait du contexte de l’artisanat, du design et des arts décoratifs et non de l’art contemporain. ^vii

Les critiques envers le mouvement des verreries en Australie sont relativement similaires à celles soulevées par Metcalf dans son discours sur le mouvement américain. La contribution moderne des pratiques verrières qui se basent sur un matériau unique et sont motivées par l’esthétique et le fétichisme de certaines compétences remonte à l’essor du mouvement australien dans les années 1970, quand on employa des enseignants européens au sein des établissements d’enseignement.  Au même moment, l’art contemporain faisait se joignait à de nouvelles pratiques conceptuelles, interdisciplinaires et post-verrières. Avec l’émergence d’une nouvelle génération d’artistes qui incluent divers autres médias dans leurs œuvres, le mouvement verrier australien devenu désormais mature est lui aussi confronté à ces mêmes changements comme le fut l’art contemporain dans les années 1970.

Pratique hybride

Ces personnes pratiquant le verre sont souvent hautement talentueuses en matière de techniques verrières et sortent fréquemment de la sphère de l’artisanat et du design pour œuvrer et exposer dans des contextes très variés. Certaines d’entre elles créent ce que l’on qualifie à présent d’objet hybride. Ces objets hybrides biaisent les frontières traditionnelles existantes entre les différents moyens artistiques tels que la sculpture, le cinéma, le spectacle, l’artisanat, le design et l’architecture sous forme de pratiques multidisciplinaires et interdisciplinaires. Ces formes d’art hybrides élargissent les possibilités d’innover et d’expérimenter avec d’autres disciplines comme les sciences naturelles ou la physique, l’industrie, la technologie, la littérature, la culture populaire ou même la philosophie.^viii Récemment et plus particulièrement en Amérique, de nouveaux mouvements étiquetés post-verriers ou urbains se sont regroupés. Ces artistes rejètent ouvertement les traditions très respectées de la verrerie en employant de nouveaux médias. ^ix

Les nouveaux paradigmes

Conséquence de cette évolution des pratiques et des contextes mentionnée précédemment, les institutions verrières partout dans le monde ont choisi de diminuer voire de supprimer l’emploi du terme artisanat dans leurs noms. Le Musée des Arts et du Design de New York dénommé autrefois Musée Américain de l’Artisanat en est un bon exemple. Cette démarche permet de s’ouvrir à une plus grande mixité d’approches variées, et de toucher le public plus largement.^x

Avec appui et développement, ces nouveaux paradigmes fourniront des opportunités qui encourageront verriers, auteurs, galeries et institutions à s’aventurer au delà des concepts traditionnels du verre et leurs permettront d’atteindre un plus vaste auditoire. Vision périphérique vise à mettre à l’épreuve cette image conservative du verre et à élargir la vision des personnes concernées, en étudiant les approches multiples et innovantes de l’utilisation du verre dans des contextes variés.

Vision Périphérique a regroupé ces questions sous les catégories suivantes:

i)       Institutions et Galeries

Les stratégies de nos institutions et galeries sont-elles en phase avec les nouveaux courants internationaux du verre et soutiennent-elles une variété de contextes? Au regard de l’avenir, de quelle façon les galeries et les institutions peuvent-elles soutenir et encourager les pratiques contemporaines par l’utilisation du verre? Est-ce que les musées, les galeries et les prix verriers s’adaptent suffisamment à l’évolution des besoins des artistes et de leur public? Parviendront-ils à captiver et éduquer public et collectionneurs en leurs exposant des œuvres progressistes qui défient les concepts traditionnels de l’art verrier? Comment les galeries commerciales peuvent-elles collaborer avec les espaces gérés par les artistes et par les galeries publiques pour représenter et promouvoir au mieux les artistes et les formes d’art émergents?

ii)      Pratique Contemporaine

Comment différencier les pratiques verrières les unes des autres? Quelle sorte d’art est l’art du verre? De quelle façon les artistes peuvent-ils élargir de manière critique leurs pratiques sans mettre en danger leurs revenus? Y a-t-il une structure préétablie pour définir une pratique critique? Les verriers doivent-ils se concentrer d’avantage sur la théorie englobant le matériau ainsi que sur l’appartenance à un concept? Comment les verriers ont-ils découvert ces contextes et quel a été leur succès? Ces contextes sont-ils négligés et quelles sont les possibilités d’agrandir ces domaines dans le futur? Où situer le rôle des compétences, de la virtuosité et de l’expertise dans ces contextes et comment juger et soutenir ces variables? Qui sont les innovateurs dans ce contexte?

iii)     Design et Production

Quelle est l’histoire du design et de la production du verre et de quelle façon a-t-elle été retransmise au verre en Australie? Ces contextes sont-ils négligés et quelles sont les opportunités d’élargir ces domaines dans le futur? Qui sont les innovateurs dans ce contexte et comment se positionnent-il au sein du contexte?

iv)     Discours Critique

Suite à la faible quantité de discours critiques concernant le verre australien, certains débats devraient-ils être initiés ou relancés afin de pouvoir accroître et développer le mouvement? Quelle est la théorie qui englobe le matériau et comment pourrait-elle être appliquée dans le développement des concepts? La trame d’évolution globale du verre en Australie a-t-elle négligé dans son élan certains contextes et pratiques pertinents qui se situaient en bordure? Devrions-nous reconnaître plus spontanément les styles et les idiomes que nous citons avant de les considérer nôtres? Faut-il se pencher sur notre façon d’écrire à propos des ateliers verriers? Comment changer notre manière d’écrire à propos du verre pour lui apporter plus de crédibilité dans les contextes? Certains écrits amicaux et s’auto-félicitants entravent-ils au progrès du matériau en terme de critiques? De quelle façon constructive les auteurs peuvent-il enchérir au discours de manière à faire progresser le matériau?

vi)     Education

La méthodologie du Bauhaus est-elle toujours aussi pertinente de nos jours et la force élisant les paradigmes évolue-t-elle avec le temps? Est-ce que les éléments du style Bauhaus basé sur les compétences peuvent être réemployés dans le développement d’une approche hybride ou interdisciplinaire qui inclut l’expérimentation? Quel serait l’équilibre idéal entre les compétences, la théorie et le concept? Quelles sortes de pratiques devrait-on encourager à l’avenir? Quelles parties de la théorie conviennent bien au verre et comment les intégrer dans nos programmes d’enseignement?

vii)    Technique et Virtuosité

Comment conserver l’héritage des compétences pratiques et des connaissances développées par le mouvement depuis près de 40 ans? Comment développer et soutenir les verriers qui souhaitent travailler dans ce contexte? Quels sont les pièges de cette focalisation et comment les éviter? Qui sont ceux qui réinterprètent cet héritage de compétences de façon innovante et audacieuse? Est-ce que collaborer avec l’art contemporain, le design et l’architecture mène à l’innovation et cela s’imprègne-t-il dans le mouvement verrier australien?

Le site internet d’Andrew Lavery est www.andrewlavery.com et vous pouvez trouver plus d’informations sur la Conférence Ausglass en allant sur www.ausglass.org.au

ⁱ           William Warmus, The End (La Fin), Glass Magazine (Magazine du Verre), Automne, 1995

ⁱⁱ          Susanne Frantz, Notes from a Distant Observer (Remarques d’un Observateur à Distance), dans Australian Glass Now Today (Le Verre Australien de nos Jours), Wakefield Press, Australie Méridionale, 2005, p38.

ⁱⁱⁱ         Noris Ioannau, Australian Studio Glass – The Movement its Markers and Their Art (Verrerie Australienne – Le Mouvement, ses Fondateurs et Leur Art), Craftsmen House (Maison de l’Artisanat, Nouvelle Galles du Sud, 1995, p.48

^iv         Sue Rowley, Australian Glass Community (Communauté Australienne du Verre), dans un rapport édité lors de la Conférence Ausglass, 1993.

^v          Martin Puryear, Shaping the Future of Craft (Définir l’Avenir de l’Artisanat), Discours d’Introduction: Shaping the Future of Craft, (Définir le Futur de l’Artisanat) Conseil Américain de l’Artisanat, New York, p.25

^vi         Bruce Metcalf, The Glass Art Conundrum (Le Mystère de l’Art Verrier), Cours Strattman de 2009, Conférence de la Société des Arts du Verre (Amérique), Corning New York.

^vii        Ibid. Metcalf

^viii       Susan Rotilie, Hybrid Art Forms (Formes d’Arts Hybrides), http://schools.walkerart.org/arttoday/index.wac?id=2355, extrait le dimanche 6 septembre 2009.

^ix         On considère les artistes post-verriers ou urbains, ceux qui ont été soit déconcertés, soit incapables, ou qui ne souhaite pas utiliser les méthodes et les techniques évidentes et parfaitement raisonnables établies pour eux à travers le temps, l’histoire et la tradition, et qui se regroupent dans un univers post-moderne ou les médias omniprésents deviennent partie intégrante de leur art. http://howisthisglass.blogspot.com/ Yukanjali, Post Glass Artists: Who are they? (Les Artistes Post-verriers: Qui sont-ils? (Extrait le 19 Août 2009)

^x          Carmine Branagan, Shaping the Future of Craft (Définir l’Avenir de l’Artisanat), Conseil Américain de l’Artisanat, New York, p.23

Seminars in the Studio of Rita Neumann

December 3-5, 2010

By Marcela Rosemberg 

I would like to share with you my feelings and thoughts about bringing my first international seminars on glass to the city where I was born and lived all my life until the day I emigrated to Canada 7 years ago.  As they were conducted in the studio of my mentor, Rita Neumann, I’d also like to talk about her influence on my career in kilnforming.

The two seminars, with a total of seventeen artists, were sponsored by Spectrum Glass Co.  In these, I talked about the technical, aesthetic characteristics and  possibilities System 96 (Uroboros Glass and Spectrum Glass Company) has to offer.  I explained the story that led me to start discovering the fluidity of this glass giving a special effect with suggestive movements.

Seminar Participants, photo: Marcela Rosemberg

The interaction was the key. Technical discussions and power point presentations about the characteristics of the glasses encouraged participants to expand their ideas. I also talked about surfaces, designs, coefficients of expansion, compatibility, deformation, motion and its variants. Temperatures for different types of firings were a major subject of consultation.  Both 3mm clear and colored glass were used to develop unique designs.  Once projects were completed and the kiln was opened, we saw the magical transformation of this glass which allows itself to go very deep one into the other.

As a second activity, I taught extrapolation from one language to another.  A piece of fabric with a design brought by the participants was chosen to transport its language visually to glass.

On the last day we analyzed the experience as a whole. One touching moment was when each participant introduced him/herself to the group accompanied by a power point presentation expressing their feelings and what they felt was accomplished for them in that seminar.  Everyone felt the seminar was full of personal discoveries.

I wanted to conduct this seminar with the artist who many years ago first gave me the tools to develop my art. She was more than a hostess. I felt that no time at all had passed by; that our bond is still the same, based on mutual respect and admiration.

It was the year 2000 when I met Rita. I remember the old studio and a triptych piece of clear bas relief glass that, lying on a shelf, caught my attention.  Because of that single, influential piece, I now focus on working with clear glass.

Box casting by Rita Neumann, photo: Marcela Rosemberg

At the seminar, Rita mentioned to me that her fond memory went back to the two long years, a decade ago, when I came regularly to study in her studio. She says that today she sees me and remembers the freshness, the predisposition and desire to know, together with my ceaseless smile.  She knows that I have found in Prince Edward Island the place to flourish and develop my daily work, further my education and continue to create with the same pleasure and thoroughness that characterizes me.  Having me with her again in Argentina showed her that there is no change in my identity, but that I’ve grown and continue to grow.  That gives both of us great satisfaction.

Rita is not only a great artist but a great teacher because she transmits her skills and knowledge to her students with a special language and human quality. I always point out that she gave me, and is still giving me, the best of her … in those days she gave me a soft kick to help me to fly. And here I am flying and trying, as Jonathan Livingston Seagull, to maintain a steady flight. Of course there were and still are ups and downs.

Her choice of glass as a material was probably due to her curiosity about the process that leads to making a product.  Coming from painting where you see an immediate result, in glass at first everything is a surprise and then, over time, the alchemy of the material takes you to further research including running more and more technical risks to achieve an image. Rita believes that its inherent beauty, light and transparency, and its fragility makes us learn to treat it gently.

It was at this time that Rita went through different techniques, constantly changing according to what she wanted to express.  She began with modeling clay and proceeded to learn the long process of mold-making for glass casting.  When she wanted to make “absent” male and female bodies she cast glass in the shape of clothes with no body.  It was the missing shape that suggested the human body.  She then used clothes as sculpture in relief technique, which she believed transferred the idea better.  These appeared as shirts with flying ties and petticoats.

Rita believes that the work of an artist is never completed without the other’s gaze.  Allowing the creator’s feelings and emotions to touch another person’s sensitivity is the most important and fascinating thing about this language.

Glass has been the key for me to start living in beautiful Prince Edward Island but I always look back to my beautiful Argentina and my great friend and mentor there, Rita Neumann.  Together, Rita and I plan to bring to Canada a seminar to teach a unique technique in sculptural pieces sometime in July-August 2011.

Marcela Rosemberg immigrated to Prince Edward Island from Argentina in 2003, where she now lives and works.  Color, beauty, simplicity, elegance and functionality are key components of her designs. In her studio she is always looking for that mix of colors and textures that leads to each carefully designed piece. Nature, the sea, and her Jewish faith are all avenues of expression for her work.  You can check out her work at www.marcelarosemberg.com.  Rita Neumann’s work can be seen at www.ritaneumann.com.ar.

Marcela recalls that the temperature was 35C the day she left Argentina; Canada was at –24C on the day she landed.  Despite this and other challenges, she says that little by little she is settling in, as Canada is a country where she feels she can reach her goals.

By Shirley Rimer

People tell me I’m a very lucky person.   I’ve had the opportunity to travel extensively.   When I return to my studio, my experiences inevitably manifest themselves in my pieces.  I feel I now rely on the stimulation from travel for ideas and direction.  My latest travels have taken me to the beautiful hillsides of Tuscany, Italy, where I apprenticed in a glass studio.

Apprenticeship, as a form of instruction in which a novice learns from a master of craft or art, has existed for thousands of years.  Until the 19^th century apprenticeship was the sole means for people to acquire the skills for almost all occupations.  My tutelage in the studio at Vetrate Artistiche Toscane, in Siena, gave me the opportunity to learn many of the skills required to create artworks in stained glass.

With the help of the Alberta Foundation For The Arts, I spent the month of August, 2010, in Siena.   I rented a small apartment on a narrow little street in the old city.  Each morning I climbed the hill in the sunshine and looked forward to learning and laughter.  Siena was alluring, the people were friendly and the food was delicious.  Fresh pasta, pizza slices and gelato were an almost everyday occurrence.  The weekends were the time for exploration and included a trip to Florence as well as La Meridiana, a ceramics studio in the Tuscan hillside.

Massimo and Gianni Bracciali are brothers who have successfully operated this fused and stained glass venture for the past 20 years.  The studio, where their job is restoration and creation of beautiful stained glass windows, is situated in the heart of the old city.  Massimo apprenticed for several years in a stained glass studio.  His brother, Gianni, has a doctorate in geology.  Their individual expertise has created an environment where one can learn all facets of this exquisite art form.  Their sense of humour was delightful.

A ceramist from Ireland, Shauna McCann, was there to do a one-month apprenticeship with me.  We talked about our lives and our work and how we would like to integrate what we were learning into what we do.  We were equal in our lack of experience and in our ability to learn.

When I walked into the studio, I was immediately taken with the beautiful drawings, “cartoons”, lining the walls throughout the space.  These cartoons are the initial steps in creating the beautiful stained glass windows, which are part of the architecture of churches in several countries in the world.  The finished products can be seen in several churches in Siena, some restorations and some new creations.

Church window in progress.

When I arrived they were in the beginning stages of a commission for a church in Minnesota.  After a short practice session on some ornaments, I was immediately put to work on cutting glass for the new windows.  After the drawings are prepared, they’re redrawn in sections with numbered colors in each section.  Cutting the glass for the windows is very exact; any inaccuracy will cause a distortion in the window.  As time progressed, the cutting became easier and I became excited about being a part of the project.  While I was doing that I watched the cartoons being developed and the glass being put together and painted.

We helped to complete smaller projects in order to learn the leading techniques and finally the cementing.  The most difficult job was painting the glass.  Alberto Positano, the studio painter, did a superb job.  Colors are overlaid and a variety of very delicate and precise techniques are used before the paints are fired onto the glass.

What I learned in the studio will be a part of my future work in clay; both the technical aspects of working in stained glass and the impressions of a charming and very beautiful city.  I look forward to seeing this experience materialize in the pieces I plan to make.  I truly am very lucky!

Shirley Rimer lives in Red Deer, Alberta, where she owns and operates a ceramics studio.  She has been working in clay for the past 30 years and has exhibited her work internationally.   Shirley has travelled extensively, participating in residencies and exchanges in several countries.   Her mixed media work often includes glass elements.

By Jill Allan, B.C. Representative for the Glass Art Association of Canada

On June 10, the BC Glass Art Association hosted a fundraising dinner and presentation by Preston Singletary, a Seattle artist whose beautiful works merge traditional Tlingit design with European glass processes.  Singletary was exposed to the Seattle glass world through his friendship with Dante Marioni, who suggested he take a job as night watchman at the Glass Eye studio in Seattle.  He eventually became a member of the production team at that studio and went on to develop his skills by working with glass masters Lino Tagliapietra and Pino Signoretto and by studying Scandinavian design at Kosta Boda.  Singletary’s skilful rendering of the traditional Tlingit designs that adorn his work was refined through study and collaboration with Northwest Coastal artists such as Steve Brown and Joe David.  In addition to maintaining a successful studio practice, Singletary is a member of the board of trustees for the Pilchuck Glass School and the Seattle Art Museum.

The dinner took place at a restaurant in the business district and was comprised of a small group of collectors and makers.  Complimentary to the intimate gathering, Singletary opened his presentation by singing a traditional Tlingit love song.  After singing to us he began to describe the path he had taken to become the artist he is today.  Singletary received no formal art training but through experience working at Pilchuck and in Seattle built glass making skills.  Through his own research he learned about modernism and the 19^th century artists’ attraction to ‘primitive’ art.  He was inspired by the Surrealists and their ideas about psychology, the sub-conscious and dreaming.  Stirred by this research, he began to consider using traditional Tlingit designs in his glass work, drawing on the graphic imagery found in surface decoration on baskets and wood carved forms to inform his own work.  He told the story of Raven Stealing the Light as a kind of metaphor for the way that curiosity and pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable often paves the way for new growth.  Singletary showed the work of other Native American artists working in glass and discussed the art programming at the Institute of American Indian Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where glass instruction has become available.  Today he views his work as a hybrid of two traditions of creativity:  European glass making married with Tlingit design.

Singletary has an exhibition called ‘Echoes, Fire and Shadows’ at the Museum of Glass in Tacoma Washington until Sept. 19^th, 2010.

www.prestonsingletary.com

www.iaia.edu

www.museumofglass.org

By Kai Scholefield

A Calgary-based glass art collective comprised of artists Phillip Bandura, Tim Belliveau and Ryan Fairweather have plenty to celebrate as they prepare to travel to Europe for the second consecutive year. The Bee Kingdom art collective, as they are known, has been invited to speak at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin after working with artist Felekshan Onar during a residency at the Glass Furnace in Turkey last year.

Collaboration is a fundamental element in the design and creation of the Bee Kingdom’s work (hence the reference to a hive in their name), and much of their content is drawn from natural phenomenon. And during their residency in Turkey the Bee Kingdom combined their dynamic with Felekshan to create a glass sculpture adapted from their Beacon series.  The resulting collaborative piece was selected to show in an exhibition of modern Islamic art at the Pergamon museum in October later this year.

During the show at the museum, select artists have been invited to speak about their work and the Bee Kingdom are among those chosen few.  Their particular talk will touch on their experiences working in Turkey with Felekshan and how it has informed their art making practice.  The Bee Kingdom will also have the opportunity during this talk to present the concepts behind their own solo exhibition Soft Power which runs in conjunction to the Pergamon exhibition.

Presented by the New Glass and Photography Gallery in Berlin, Soft Power was originally coined as a political term by Joseph Nye in 1990 for the degree of influence a nation possesses based on its cultural identity.  The individual works by each artist orbit this theme of cultural attraction but also maintain clear elements of each artist’s own motif of cute culture, political satire, and mythologies and boundaries between the wilderness and industrialization.

The Bee Kingdom’s solo exhibition opens in September, with their talk at the Pergamon occurring in October.  Both are made possible by support from the Canada Council and the Alberta Foundation for the Arts.  More information on the Bee Kingdom can be found at www.beekingdom.ca

By Jill Allan

From June 15^th to July 2^nd I attended the neon making class ‘Illuminating Experiments’ taught by Jeremy Bert at Pilchuck Glass School in Washington State.  Before leaving for the course I was looking forward not only to all the new skills I would be learning but also to a change of venue and an opportunity to reflect on my career path.  My desire to learn about neon has been growing over the past few years, inspired by a series of patterned drawings with thread and paper that I want to adapt into a series of neon screens – making shapes with light.   I now feel that this body of work is within the realm of my ability!

Pilchuck Glass School is located on a mountainside close to Stanwood, Washington.  It is a peaceful and beautiful setting.  Students are housed in dormitories or cottages and provided with three meals a day, access to a print shop, wood shop, metal shop, library, the internet, state-of-the-art glass making and finishing studios and equipment, a school store, and an open, optimistic atmosphere of creative energy.  Every evening after dinner we enjoyed slide presentations of work made by the instructors, artists-in-residence or staff.  When I was there, approximately 110 people on campus (staff and students) were also in attendance.  I was in a class with eight other students, a teacher, and three teaching assistants.  We received a lot of instruction and support from the teaching staff and enjoyed lectures and demonstrations from visiting artists invited to Pilchuck from nearby Seattle.

In order to make neon you need variously configured torches which allow you to heat the glass tubes specifically.  The ribbon burner torch has a long flame that allows the artist to evenly heat a large area of tube.  The other torches used have torch heads that face each other to make a hot zone between them; these torches are either hand held or mounted on a stand at which you can work while standing with glass tubing in both hands.  When using the hand held torch to make a ‘butt’ joint between two pieces of tubing or an electrode and tubing, one of the pieces of glass tubing is held in place on a stable surface by bean bags because one of your hands is holding the torch.   In order to keep the tube from collapsing on itself while you are heating and shaping it a hose is attached to one end and the other end is sealed so that you can create pressure in the tube and inflate it slightly after making a bend.   It takes a while to get used to the torches and to figure out how not to kink the tubing or over-inflate the tubing, both of which make it vulnerable to breakage, or collapse under the pressure of the vacuum pump.  Joining two pieces of tubing together is also tricky as the two ends must be of equal heat and the joint must not be over-inflated or it will be weak.  I guess it is kind of like a one-person mini incalmo!  Most of the tubing we used was commercially made for the sign industry and coated in phosphorous to make the different colours available.  The colour also depends on which kind of gas is used:  either neon or argon.  The neon gas burns bright orange and the argon is a soft purple.  When you add a little bit of mercury to the argon it glows brightly white.  We did make our own tubing one day and tried different colours but the gasses glowed so brightly that the coloured glass didn’t really show up.  However, the optic molded glass made great affects!  Once the tubing is bent and has electrodes on it, it is sterilized and filled with gas and then it is ready to mount and light up.  Jeremy had come to Pilchuck with salvaged transformers for us to use to power our pieces.  We also experimented with using a solar panel to charge two batteries which powered two neon pieces and a bunch of LED lights.  I think that using solar energy as a power source increases the viability of neon as a public art resource.

Some things about making neon are really difficult!  For instance, making round gentle curves…it is very tricky to heat the glass evenly when you are heating a large area of it and to let it fall into that curved shape without making a kink in the curve.  Actually, making anything round is a great challenge!  I tried to balance practicing difficult shapes with making the patterned angular pieces that were based on my drawings.  I found a book in the campus library about Chinese Lattice designs and also worked from that for inspiration.  I observed the instructors at the ‘bombarder’ where the glass tubes are sterilized and then filled with a very specific volume of neon or argon.  Bombarding is extremely dangerous because of the high voltage used to heat the glass for sterilization, so we students were not permitted to use this piece of equipment.  The day before it was time to clean up everyone set up their projects for a studio ‘walk through’.  Our studio looked like a lantern from outside with all the windows glowing from our projects.

I am so grateful to have had this opportunity to learn about a new skill that I am eager to put to use in my practice!  I feel like there is a lot of potential for neon in terms of public art as well as pieces for private collections.  It means so much to me that Circle Craft Co-operative and the BC Glass Art Association were able to support me with scholarship funding to build a new skill that I can put to use in my practice as well as share with my community here at home.

Jill Allan is one of the Glass Art Association of Canada regional representatives for BC.  She graduated from the Alberta College of Art + Design in Calgary in 1999 and currently lives on Vancouver Island, travelling from there to Chemainus, Vancouver and Victoria to make her work.

This is a transcript of the talk given by Anthony Schafermeyer at the Glass Art Association of Canada Conference in Montreal on May 29, 2010.

Beecause, Anthony Schafermeyer

Hello, everyone and thank you for coming.

My name is Anthony Schafermeyer, and I am a construction worker from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  I started my construction career shortly after graduating from art school back in 1992.  You see, art school is expensive, and I graduated with what I think – if I remember correctly – was $39,000 in student loans.  Now this was money spent on an education that was in essence completely worthless.  I was unqualified for almost everything.  I was even unqualified for construction.  But I got lucky.  I got a job working as a laborer for a guy named Big Mike Portagie.  He was, and still is, a plasterer.  Not a sheet-rock taper now, but a plasterer; hard coat, real old school plasterer.

I’ve worked construction off and on for the last twenty years.  Plastering, plumbing, carpentry, landscaping, and I was even a tree limber in Boston when I was younger and more nimble.  I worked as a plasterer for about four months as recently as last winter.  I also sometimes blow glass.  My old boss, Big Mike, used to call me Mr. Knick Knack.  He would say, “I give you a perfectly good job, a man’s job, and all you do is work long enough to save up some money so you can go make more knick knacks.  Ain’t this world got enough knick knacks?”  What I am trying to get across here is that this is hard.  It’s not easy to make stuff and sell it so that you can both eat and make some more stuff.  At least it’s been hard for me.  Yes, I have taught in Japan, and I have had solo shows in Stockholm.  I’ve given lectures in Spain.  I once held the record at Pilchuck for the most amount of students on a waiting list for a class.  But I have also patched roofs and insulated basements and unclogged toilets, in the name of self preservation.

I thought that it might be a bit disingenuous of me to stand up here today and give a lecture about what a great guy I am, during these uncertain times in the field of glass.  Self preservation is something that I have been thinking a lot about lately.  It started with something that my therapist said to me recently (yes, I go to a therapist).  She said that all humans are self preservationists and that most are short sighted about it.  I work construction in order to preserve my ability to make stuff.  Some people go the route of academia.  Everyone has their own way.  But rest assured, most of us do something that we don’t want to do in order to get by.

During the last few years of incredibly tough economic times, and arguably the collapse of the glass movement, I have seen what I consider a disturbing trend that can be attributed to self preservation, and what I would like to have happen here today is to have everyone here leave this lecture with an assignment of self examination.  Part A is that I want everybody in this audience to go home and ask themselves what they have done in the last few years in the name of self preservation.  Make a list as it were of all the things that you do that was not part of the original dream.  Part B of your assignment is that I want you to ask yourself if what you did was good for glass as a whole or bad for glass as a whole.  What I am suggesting is a radical idea.  What I am suggesting is that your self preservation may not be the best thing for glass or for its future.  Of course no one thinks that this applies to them.  Every single one of you is thinking right now that you are the exception, as I did.  But assuredly some of you aren’t.

Now I am not advocating that everyone out there starts working construction, or that my way is the best and that it will save glass.  Construction is something that works for me.  It works for my temperament and my mentality.  But what I am saying is that one of the most popular and easy ways to self preserve for glass people these days seems to be to dumb things down, to make cheap studio versions.  To hold “make your own paperweight” classes at your shop to help pay the bills.  Make your own pumpkin, make your own glass heart, make your own Christmas ball,  There is even a “sprinkle your own cupcake” event wherein people pay to throw colorful glass shards at hot globs of glass.  I am proposing that these things are bad for glass as a whole and that I find this trend especially disturbing when public non-profit institutions are the instigators.

I have never owned my own hot shop.  Shops are expensive and I simply don’t sell enough to afford one.  Every single piece I have ever made has been in a rented shop.  I have relationships with a lot, and I mean a lot, of public access studios.  In all likelihood my dog has been to more glass shops than many of you in this audience.  Without them I wouldn’t be able to make anything.  I am grateful that these shops exist.  But … there is a but.  I am finding it increasingly difficult to align myself with an institution that so publicly promotes itself as a “do it yourself” shop.  I find it detrimental to associate myself with studios that advertise “learn to make a goblet in a weekend” when all they do is glue a pre-made cup on a wonky stem.  I feel that studios everywhere are preserving themselves by undermining the respectability of glass.  How can I reasonably be expected to sell something that I have spent years developing when the public image of glass is that of “sprinkle your own cupcakes,” “learn to do this in a weekend”?  What chance do any of us have of reaching our goals to make and sell meaningful work when this is the public face we are presenting?

Earlier in the spring a local “society” came to my studio for a tour.  I gave them the usual speech about myself and where I had studied, my inspirations, etc.  When it was over, I was trying to herd the visitors into my make-shift gallery, trying to sell something to recoup my money, and before I got there the director was handing out envelopes for the visitors to insert their donations for the society.  I suddenly realized that they weren’t there to support me.  They were there to support themselves.  They are preserving the society for contemporary craft.  Not contemporary craftsmen.  They were there to eat me.  At this time when craftsmen are really struggling, they were there for support from me.  Ask yourself, just exactly what are they preserving?

Recently I was approached by a public glass center for a donation.  I gave the usual schpiel about how I do not donate work to public shops anymore because I do not agree with their current policies of focusing on classes for amateurs while simultaneously raising rental rates for professionals.  I was assured that the focus of this shop would change, and that they were no longer holding so many paperweight classes, and that they were doing this and doing that to help people who were serious craftsmen.  Three weeks later an article came out in the San Francisco Chronicle about a 10 year old glass master who worked out of this very shop.  His instructors were quoted as saying that he was an extremely talented artisan.  Now all of us here know that a 10 year old is simply not big enough to blow glass physically.  We all know that this boy, no matter how talented he is, could not physically blow glass by himself.  He is simply not tall enough.  Hell, I’m not tall enough.  All press is not good press.

We are all of us educators, whether we like it or not.  Everything we do is absorbed by collectors and potential collectors, artists and potential artists; our state-funded tax-exempt non-profits especially so.  The interested look to these places to learn about who we are and what we are up to.  What are we teaching them?  Garth Clark writes that our downfall is directly attributed to us.  He thinks that we did it to ourselves by calling ourselves artists when we are not.  His solution is that we should align ourselves with the design world instead.  But how can we do that when our most public designs include glass hearts and cupcakes?  How can we blame the public or the collectors?  Look what we show them.

My father first saw me work a few years ago in St Louis.  Now he’s a blue collar guy, my father; knows nothing about art.  Later after the demo and a few beers, he said to me, “Y’know, I am relieved.  I was worried that you were gonna make little animals like at the mall.”  What are we calling ourselves now?  In this time of struggle we are calling ourselves Mr. and Mrs. Knick Knack.  Mr. and Mrs. Copycat.  Mr. Chihuly imitator, and Mrs. Unoriginal.  Mr. I Have Made The Exact Same Thing For Fifteen Years Because It Keeps Selling But I Still Insist Its Art.  We fancy ourselves as creative people.  Can no one out there come up with a more creative solution than to mimic the same mistakes made by the ceramic movement?  Is this self preservation?  If so, what is it preserving?  I would argue that no it is not preserving.  It is not preserving the glass that I know, the movement that I want to be a part of.  It is not preserving craftsmanship, certainly.  It is very unlikely that it is preserving the dream we all had when we were young about making beautiful meaningful, important work.  We all have a different idea of what meaningful work is, but I think that we can all agree that “sprinkle your own cupcakes” is probably not it.

Rather than preserving, we are creating.  It is creating a glass that is cheap, a glass that requires no skill or thought.  Garth Clark may be right.  He may be wrong.  I’m not here to debate what’s art and what’s craft.  Because in the end, it doesn’t matter what we say about ourselves or our work as long as our institutions keep putting hot shops on cruise ships.  That, my friends, says volumes.

I have been trying to find some literature lately on the downfall of the ceramics movement of the 70s.  I think that there is a correlation here.  I think that there are lessons to be learned.  The “paint your own pottery” shops that used to be everywhere were strikingly similar to the city-sponsored glass shops of today.  As yet I have not been able to find a book on how ceramics collapsed.  I suppose that no one wanted to be the one who wrote it.  It took them twenty years to come back from that.  How long will it take us?  But my idea is simple.  Let’s teach everyone what we can be.  And let’s be lead by the institutions that we have created.  Let them stand up and say, “We are quality, originality.  We are something to be appreciated.”

This is the part where I am supposed to give everyone an answer.  I am supposed to tell you how to preserve yourself honorably.  But I cannot.  I simply don’t know.  I feel ok about this though because Garth Clark, who is way smarter than I am, doesn’t supply an answer in his lectures either.  At least not a reasonable one.  And I think that at this stage that’s ok.  I think that at this stage we need to recognize our problems, and try not to make them worse.  Those that do not know history are doomed to repeat it.  We are repeating it.  I can tell you what I have done in order to self preserve.  I built a giant slumping oven and I’m slumping lampshades.  I hardly blow glass anymore at all.  I kind of like it.  I find architects to be much easier to deal with than gallery owners or collectors.  I find that they actually know what they want and put a slightly higher premium on originality.  I still make my own work, but I am not sending it out to anyone.  I find it liberating.  I have, in a way, let myself burn down.  Architectural glass is fine for now.  It is usually a technical challenge.  I have learned a lot more about glass now from factories and commercial glass people.  I get paid up front, and I even get paid for drawings.

Do I miss blowing?  Hell, yes.  I loved blowing.  Some would even say that I was pretty good at it.  But I will not demean my skills and the effort and sacrifice that I put into it by making something cheap, and I don’t appreciate others doing it for me, especially the very institutions that purport to love craft as much as I do.  If you love the media and you respect your own dreams, then find a way to self preserve that is not destructive.  Let’s not preserve secretarial jobs at non-profits.  Let’s preserve the craft.

A year and a half ago, my friend David Levi said to me, “I think it all needs to burn down first before we can rebuild.”  Last week I asked him if it had all burned down yet, and he told me yes.  If this is true, then good.  Let’s start rebuilding it.  This is our chance.  Let’s start teaching people what we can be.

Anthony Schafermeyer est un artiste verrier professionnel depuis 15 ans. Il a beaucoup enseigné aux États-Unis au Pilchuck School of Glass, au Haystack Mountain School of Crafts et au Corning Museum of Glass. Anthony a donné plusieurs conférences et démonstrations à l’étranger dont : à l’Université de Segovia (Espagne), au Niijima Glass School (Japon), au Gerrit Rietveld Academie of Art (Amsterdam), ainsi qu’au Kittengela Glass (Kenya). Anthony possède un atelier à Millvale (PA) et travaille actuellement sur un projet d’installation pour le tout nouvel hôtel Fairmont au centre-ville de Pittsburgh. Il est représenté par Habatat Gallery de Boca Raton (FL) et par Dane Gallery (Nantucket, MA).

Anthony Schafermeyer has been a professional glass artist for fifteen years. He has taught extensively throughout the country including, but not limited to Pilchuck glass school (WA), Haystack Mountain School of Crafts (ME), and the Corning Museum of Glass (NY). Anthony has also lectured and demonstrated abroad, including The University of Segovia (Spain), Niijima Glass School (Japan), Gerrit Rietveld Academie of Art (Amsterdam), and Kittengela Glass (Kenya). Anthony has a studio in Millvale (PA), and is currently working on an installation project for the new Fairmont Hotel in downtown Pittsburgh. He is currently represented by Habatat Gallery in Boca Raton (FL) and Dane Gallery in Nantuckett (MA).

Anthony demo'ing at Espace Verre, photo: Patrick Fisher

Bonjour à tous et merci d’être venus,

Mon nom est Anthony Schafermeyer et je suis un travailleur de la construction à Pittsburgh en Pennsylvanie. J’ai débuté ma carrière dans la construction, après avoir reçu un diplôme en arts en 1992. Vous comprendrez, les études en arts sont très dispendieuses et j’avais accumulé une dette de 39,000$ en prêts étudiants. C’était donc beaucoup d’argent dépensé pour un diplôme sans valeur réelle. En fait, je n’étais pas qualifié pour grand-chose, même pas pour la construction. Mais la chance m’a sourit et j’ai été engagé comme ouvrier manuel par « Big » Mike Portagie. Il était, et est toujours, un plâtrier. Pas un simple poseur de plâtre, mais un vrai maître plâtrier; endurci et de la vieille école.

J’ai travaillé dans la construction par période intermittente durant les 20 dernières années comme plâtrier, plombier, charpentier, paysagiste et même élagueur d’arbres durant ma jeunesse à Boston. L’hiver dernier, j’ai travaillé comme plâtrier durant quatre mois. Je souffle le verre à l’occasion. Mon vieux patron « Big » Mike, m’appelait Monsieur Bibelot. Il disait « Je te donne un bon travail, un vrai boulot d’homme, et tu le fais juste assez longtemps pour avoir de l’argent pour faire plus de bibelots. Tu ne penses pas que le monde a assez de bibelots  » ? En fait, c’est très difficile pour moi de fabriquer des objets, de les vendre, de me nourrir et d’en faire d’autres. Certes, j’ai enseigné au Japon, j’ai fait des expositions solos à Stockholm, j’ai donné des conférences en Espagne et j’ai même déjà eu le record du plus grand nombre d’étudiants sur une liste d’attente à l’école Pilchuck. Mais j’ai aussi réparé des toits, isolé des sous-sols et débouché des toilettes, au nom de l’instinct de conservation.

Il serait malhonnête de ma part, de faire un long discours pour dire que je suis un très bon gars, surtout en ces temps précaires dans le domaine du verre. Dernièrement, j’ai réfléchi à l’instinct de conservation. Cette réflexion m’est venue suite à une conversation avec ma thérapeute. Et oui, je suis en thérapie! Elle me disait que tous les humains possèdent un instinct de conservation et que la plupart d’entre nous l’appliquons sans trop s’en rendre compte. Pour ma part, je travaille dans la construction pour me permettre de fabriquer des objets en verre. D’autres prennent le chemin des études. À chacun son chemin. Soyez assuré que la plupart d’entres-nous doivent faire des sacrifices pour y arriver.

Au cours des dernières années, avec la crise économique et l’effondrement vraisemblable du mouvement du verre, je constate une inquiétante tendance que l’on peut attribuer à l’instinct de conservation. C’est pour cela que j’aimerais que vous partiez de cette conférence avec un devoir d’introspection personnelle. Premièrement (partie A), dès que vous serez à la maison j’aimerais que vous vous demandiez ce que vous avez fait au cours des dernières années qui soit relié à l’instinct de conservation. Faites une liste de toutes les choses que vous avez faites pour maintenir votre rêve original. Deuxièmement (partie B), j’aimerais que vous vous demandiez si ce que vous avez fait était entièrement bon ou mauvais pour le domaine du verre. Ce que je propose est peut-être radical mais je crois que l’instinct de conservation n’est peut-être pas la meilleure des choses pour le verre et son avenir. Je sais très bien que plusieurs d’entre vous pensez que vous êtes une exception, comme je le pensais. Je vous assure que plusieurs d’entre vous ont tort.

Je ne dis pas que tous les verriers devraient travailler dans la construction, que mon cheminement est meilleur ou que j’ai la formule pour sauver le domaine du verre. Mais le travail dans la construction convient à mon tempérament et à ma mentalité. En réalité, ce que j’essaie de vous dire c’est que les verriers ont tendance à prendre la voie de la facilité en faisant des d’objets qui sont abordables, qui imitent des pièces plus dispendieuses, et ce afin de se maintenir et de payer leurs comptes; que se soit en tenant des activités d’une journée pour faire des presse-papiers en forme de citrouille, de cœur ou des boules de Noël. J’ai même entendu dire qu’il y avait des activités pour décorer son propre petit four où les gens payaient pour saupoudrer des tessons de verre colorés sur des masses de verre. Je soutiens que cette tendance est de mauvais goût et même inquiétante pour le domaine du verre, surtout lorsque que ces activités sont proposées par des institutions sans but lucratif.

Je n’ai jamais possédé d’atelier de verre à chaud. Après tout, c’est cher et je ne vends pas assez de pièces pour en avoir un. Toutes mes pièces ont été faites dans un atelier loué. J’ai eu tellement de liens avec des ateliers publics que je vous gage que mon chien a fréquenté plus d’ateliers que la plupart d’entre vous. Sans eux, je ne pourrais pas produire quoique ce soit. Je suis très reconnaissant de leur existence. Toutefois, il y a un « mais » parce que dernièrement, je commence à ressentir énormément de réticence à m’associer à un atelier qui annonce des cours avec la formule « faites-le vous-même ». J’ai un sentiment de rejet envers ces ateliers qui annoncent des cours « faites une coupe en une fin de semaine » lorsqu’il s’agit de coller des buvants préfabriqués sur des pieds branlants. D’après moi, plusieurs ateliers qui offrent ces cours, ne le font que parce qu’ils suivent leur instinct de conservation. Ils discréditent ainsi la notoriété du verre. Comment peut-on espérer vendre des pièces développées pendant plusieurs années, lorsque l’image du verre présentée au public consiste à saupoudrer des tessons sur des petits fours en verre faits en une fin de semaine ? Quelle chance avons-nous d’atteindre nos objectifs de produire et vendre des pièces importantes avec cette image ?

Au début du printemps, une société locale est venue visiter mon atelier. Je leur ai fait mon discours habituel sur moi, mes études, mes inspirations, etc. Après cela, j’ai guidé le groupe vers ma petite galerie, en espérant vendre quelque chose pour récupérer l’argent que je perdais en les recevant. Mais avant d’y arriver, le directeur de la société remettait aux membres des enveloppes pour solliciter des dons. C’est alors que j’ai réalisé qu’ils n’étaient pas venus pour m’encourager, mais plutôt pour s’encourager entre eux. Leur but était de supporter leur propre société des métiers d’art et non d’aider des artisans contemporains. Ils profitaient de moi. En ces temps précaires pour les artisans, ils étaient venus à mon atelier pour recevoir mon appui. Il faut alors se demander qu’est-ce qu’ils essayaient de protéger ?

Récemment, un atelier public d’art verrier m’a approché pour me demander un don. Je leur ai donné mon discours habituel que je ne faisais plus de don aux ateliers publics parce que j’étais en désaccord avec leur tendance de concentrer leurs activités sur des classes d’amateurs, tout en augmentant les coûts de location d’ateliers aux professionnels. Ils m’ont assuré que cet atelier changeait d’orientation, qu’il n’y avait plus de cours pour faire des presse-papiers et qu’ils faisaient des pieds et des mains pour aider les artisans professionnels. Trois semaines plus tard, un article a été publié dans le San Francisco Chronicle sur un maître verrier de 10 ans qui travaillait dans ce même atelier. Ses professeurs l’ont tous louangé comme étant un artisan extrêmement talentueux. Nous savons tous qu’un enfant de 10 ans n’est tout simplement pas assez grand physiquement pour souffler le verre. Merde, je ne suis même pas assez grand moi-même. Toute publicité n’est pas nécessairement bonne.

Que l’on veuille ou non, nous avons tous un côté pédagogique. Toutes les pièces ce que nous produisons sont acquises par des collectionneurs ou d’éventuels collectionneurs, des artistes ou d’éventuels artistes, mais surtout par des organismes sans but lucratif subventionnés et exemptés de taxes par l’état. Nous devons regarder vers ces endroits pour mieux nous connaître et en savoir plus sur ce que nous faisons. Qu’est-ce que nous leurs montrons ? Garth Clark écrit que nous sommes les seuls à blâmer puisque nous nous considérons en tant qu’artistes alors que nous ne le sommes pas. Sa solution serait de plutôt s’associer au milieu du design. Comment peut-on le faire lorsque la plupart de nos pièces design incluent des cœurs et des petits fours en verre ? Comment peut-on blâmer le public ou les collectionneurs ?  Regardez ce qu’on leur présente.

La première fois que mon père m’a vu travailler le verre, c’était il y a quelques années à St. Louis. Mon père est un col bleu et ne connait rien à l’art. Après ma démonstration et après avoir pris quelques bières, il m’a dit « Tu sais, je suis un peu soulagé. J’avais peur que tu fasses des petits animaux que l’on voit au centre commercial ». Comment est-ce qu’on nous appelle dernièrement ? En ces temps difficiles, nous nous appelons Monsieur et Madame Bibelot; Monsieur et Madame imitateur; Monsieur imitateur De Chihuly; Madame banale ou Monsieur Je fais exactement la même chose depuis 15 ans parce que cela se vend, mais je persévère pour l’art. Nous nous considérons comme des gens créatifs, alors n’y a-t-il pas quelqu’un qui pourrait trouver une meilleure solution afin de ne pas répéter les erreurs faites par le mouvement de la céramique ? Est-ce que c’est ça l’instinct de conservation ? Si c’est ça, alors qu’est-ce que nous conservons ? J’aurais tendance à penser que c’est le contraire puisque cela ne conserve pas le mouvement du verre dont je veux faire partie, encore moins les métiers d’art ou nos ambitions du début de notre carrière, de faire des pièces qui ont quelque chose à dire. Je crois que les petits fours saupoudrés n’aident pas notre cause.

Au lieu de se conserver, nous faisons le contraire puisque nous créons des pièces en verre qui n’ont pas de valeur et qui ne demandent aucune habileté ou réflexion. Garth Clark a peut-être raison ou tort. Je ne veux pas faire un débat sur ce qui est de l’art et ce qui est métier d’art. À la fin, ce qu’on pense de nous et de nos pièces n’importe pas, tant que nos institutions installeront des ateliers de verre à chaud sur des bateaux de croisières. Cela mes amis, vaut mille mots.

Dernièrement, j’ai cherché des livres sur le déclin du mouvement de la céramique dans les années 70 parce que je vois une corrélation qui pourrait nous permettre de tirer des leçons importantes. Les cafés céramique que l’on trouvait un peu partout sont semblables aux ateliers de verre financés par les municipalités. Je n’ai pas encore trouvé de livres sur l’effondrement du milieu de la céramique. Je suppose que personne n’a encore osé l’écrire. Cela a pris 20 ans pour s’en remettre, qui sait combien de temps cela va nous prendre ? J’ai une idée très simple. Nous devrions enseigner à tous ce que nous pouvons réaliser. Se laisser guider par les institutions que nous avons créées afin qu’elles prennent leurs responsabilités et s’affirment pour encourager la création de produits originaux et de qualité.

Maintenant, je suis sensé vous donner la bonne réponse, vous expliquer comment maintenir honorablement votre réputation. Malheureusement, je ne sais pas quoi vous dire. Ce n’est pas si grave car même Garth Clark, qui est plus intelligent que moi, ne donne pas de réponse durant ses conférences, du moins aucune réponse valable. En ce moment, je crois que c’est correct, puisqu’on est au stade d’identifier nos problèmes et de ne pas faire pire. Ceux qui ne connaissent pas l’histoire se condamnent à la revivre.  Et nous la répétons. Maintenant, je peux vous avouer ce que j’ai fait pour me conserver. J’ai construit un immense four de thermoformage pour faire des abat-jours. Depuis, je ne souffle presque plus le verre mais je suis bien avec ma décision. Je trouve que c’est plus facile de négocier avec des architectes qu’avec des galeristes et des collectionneurs. Ils savent ce qu’ils veulent et mettent l’accent sur l’originalité. Je produis encore mes œuvres sans me soucier de la vente. C’est très libérateur. En fait, j’ai abaissé mes exigences. Le verre architectural me convient pour le moment, tout en étant un défi technique. J’ai beaucoup plus appris sur le verre auprès de manufacturiers et de verriers commerciaux. En plus, on me paie à l’avance et même pour mes croquis.

Es-ce que le verre soufflé me manque ? Bien sur que oui, j’adore souffler. Certains vous diront que je suis un bon souffleur. Je refuse toutefois d’abaisser mes critères, mes efforts ou de sacrifier mon énergie pour produire quelque chose sans valeur. Je ne voudrais pas payer quelqu’un pour le faire non plus, surtout pas des institutions qui aiment les métiers d’art comme moi. Si on est passionné par la technique et qu’on respecte ses rêves, on trouve alors une façon qui n’est pas destructive de se conserver. Ce ne sont pas les postes de secrétaires qu’il faut conserver dans les organismes sans but lucratif, c’est le métier d’art.

Il y a un an et demi, mon ami David Levi m’a dit « Je pense qu’il faut tout laisser brûler et recommencer à zéro ». La semaine dernière, je lui ai demandé si tout avait brûlé, et il m’a dit que oui. Si c’est vrai, tant mieux. Commençons à rebâtir. C’est notre chance de démontrer ce que nous pouvons réellement faire.

by Jamie McDonald Gray

French translation courtesy of Roch Hupé

North Lands Creative Glass Centre

The glass centre on Village Road in Lybster / Le centre de verre sur Village Road, à Lybster

For a little northern exposure this past summer I visited North Lands Creative Glass Centre in Scotland. Twice, in fact; once in June to assist with their community-outreach Glass Week and once in September to attend the annual conference and assist in a Master Class. I like to go there and have been a couple of times before as a technical assistant, which has given me the opportunity to take part in a variety of the excellent classes offered by North Lands. I say “like” but the truth is that I love going there. I’ll go there any chance I can get; anytime I can scrape together the airfare or finagle a grant and brave the jetlag. What’s the attraction? I’m glad you asked.

Pour profiter de l’air du nord, j’ai visité l’été passé le North Lands Creative Glass Centre en Écosse. À tout dire, deux fois plutôt qu’une. Une fois en juin pour participer à leur semaine communautaire du verre et une fois en septembre pour participer à la conférence annuelle et pour assister le cours d’un maître. J’aime cet endroit que j’ai fréquenté à quelques reprises comme assistante technique, ce qui m’a permis de connaître une bonne variété des excellents cours offerts par North Lands. Je profite de toutes les opportunités pour être en cet endroit, j’épargne pour le billet d’avion ou encore j’obtiens une bourse qui me permet de m’y rendre. Ce qui m’y attire? Votre question me ravie.

Harbour in Lybster looking out over North Sea / Harbour en Lybster donnant sur la mer du Nord

North Lands Creative Glass is located in Lybster, a tiny coastal fishing village in the rugged county of Caithness, just about as far northeast as you can go on the British mainland. Tucked away as it is, far from the madding crowds of the big cities, and situated in a renovated mid-19th century stone schoolhouse, North Lands is a surprise gem in the Scottish art glass scene. Indeed, it’s a rising star in the glass world generally. So when Canadian girl-from-the-prairies sets foot down on the rugged highlands coastline with an eye open for what’s going on in Scottish glass, the experience is always magical.

North Lands Creative Glass est situé à Lybster, un village côtier dans le conté de Caithness, à l’extrême nord-est de l’île de Grande-Bretagne. Éloignée des grandes citées et établie dans une ancienne école en pierre du 19ième siècle, North Lands est une perle surprenante de l’art verrier d’Écosse. En fait, c’est une des étoiles montantes mondiales dans le monde du verre. Quand une canadienne venant des prairies met pieds sur les Highlands accidentées du bord de la mer en gardant un œil ouvert sur ce qui ce passe dans l’art du verre en Écosse, l’expérience est toujours magique.

Views around Lybster/Vues autour Lybster

First of all, there’s something to be said for that cold, clean sea air. Somehow, being in a quiet and uncluttered coastal village has the effect of clearing one’s brain of city-cluttered inessentials. It’s not long before you start to slow your footsteps, take deeper breaths, and notice your surroundings. Suddenly, simplicity is the order of the day. Not to say that one becomes the village idiot (though admittedly jetlag can make me at least pretty thick-headed for a couple of days); rather, one becomes village savvy. With little vehicle traffic in the village everyone walks to their destinations. Wireless reception can be erratic, constantly threatening those electronic apron-strings. But it only takes a day or two to begin to loosen that death-grip dependence on cell phones and computers. When you’re out walking and all you can hear is the sound of the sea birds and the wind, you begin to look around. For myself, I do so appreciatively. The North Sea itself is a constantly changing panoply of colours and light. The sky rivals the beauty and majesty of Alberta’s; a vast overhead canvas, always on the move. Mountains can be seen in the distance, their slopes covered with heather and gorse in ever-changing hues of dappled blues and greens. You can see why someone who ordinarily lives in a city of more than a million people would be attracted to all this.

Premièrement, un mot à propos de l’air marin, vif et revigorant. De se retrouver dans un tranquille village côtier a pour effet de nettoyer les neurones de tout le fatras inutile de la cité. Sitôt sur place on se commence à respirer profondément en regardant le paysage. Soudainement, la simplicité s’impose dans la journée. Pas la simplicité des simples d’esprit, mais plutôt celle qui n’inclus pas la dépendance aux téléphones cellulaires et aux ordinateurs. Quand en marchant tu entends le son du vent et des oiseaux de mer, tu commences à regarder autour de toi. Personnellement, j’adore. La mer du Nord elle-même est en changement constant de couleurs et de luminosité. Le ciel rivalise de beauté et de majesté avec celui de l’Alberta, telle une grande toile toujours en mouvement. On aperçoit les montagnes au loin dans des teintes de bleus et de verts. Vous pouvez comprendre l’attraction d’un pareil endroit pour une personne habituée à vivre dans une ville de plus d’un million d’habitants.

Demo in North Land's Hot Shop / Demo en Hot Shop du North Land

Having grown up on an Alberta farm, visiting Lybster always reminds me of the closeness found in farming communities. There are few locked doors in the village and children play freely among the houses and down on the beaches. Home baking is shared around, and people stop often on the street to chat. The postal van or an occasional tractor rumbles down the street, but otherwise quiet prevails. With regular offers of shortbread, crab sandwiches, cake teas, and drinks at the local pub, it would be difficult to find a friendlier or more delightful place than Lybster. Now let’s talk glass. Because, once you’ve gotten used to the peaceful and amiable village atmosphere, it quickly becomes obvious that North Lands’ studio is a main attraction.

Ayant grandi sur une ferme en Alberta, visiter Lybster me rappelle la vie communautaire en campagne. Il n’y a que peu de portes de verrouillées, et les enfants jouent librement autour des maisons et sur la plage. Les habitants partagent leurs repas et souvent s’arrêtent dans la rue pour placoter. Il est difficile de trouver un endroit plus accueillant que Lybster avec toutes les occasions qui nous sont offertes au jour le jour comme des sablés, des sandwiches au crabe, des gâteaux, du thé et des boissons au pub du village. Une fois imprégné de cette tranquille atmosphère, il devient évident que le studio du North Land y soit l’attraction principale

Glass working equipment laid out in the Kiln Room for Open House / Verre muni de travail prévu dans la salle de four pour Open House

Lybster has one main street running straight up from the sea to the main road about a mile away. At the crossroads is situated the North Lands office, which includes a good-sized gallery space housing an impressive collection of glass art made by master glassmakers and craftspeople who have taught classes at North Lands. Halfway down the street from the office to the harbour is the studio. In a landscape where fog and rain can often obscure colour, the bright red paint on the various studio doors stands out boldly. The renovated stone schoolhouse contains a series of large, high-ceilinged rooms in which glass processes are explored. There is a well-equipped hotshop with two gloryholes, a furnace and a large annealer. The main room of the building houses (at last count) nine kilns, one of them large enough for four people to lie down in comfortably. Also housed in the main building are an enclosed and well-ventilated plaster room, a sandblasting room, and a fantastic cold-working shop, which includes top-notch polishing and copper-wheel engraving equipment. A large kitchen rounds out the establishment, which is often where people meet to chat and discuss their work. It’s also where you might occasionally get decent internet service … or eventually come to the understanding that the internet is never a guarantee. The best action plan is simply to relax, enjoy the locally-made shortbread or artisan cheese or a cup of tea (or all three), and forget about the rest of the world for a while.

Lybster a une rue principale qui va en droite ligne de la mer jusqu’à la route principale, un mile plus loin. Au croisement de cette route est situé les bureaux de North Lands, incluant une galerie spacieuse comprenant une collection impressionnante d’objet en verre fabriqués par les maîtres verriers et les artisans qui ont suivi des cours à North Lands. À mi-chemin entre les bureaux et la mer se trouve l’atelier. Dans cet environnement souvent obscurci par le brouillard et la pluie, les nombreuses portes peintes en rouge de l’atelier apportent une note de gaieté. L’école en pierre, rénovée, comprend plusieurs pièces à plafond haut où le travail du verre est exploré. Il y a une fournaise avec deux fours de réchaud et un grand four de recuisson. La pièce principale de l’édifice abrite neuf fours de thermoformage et pâte de verre, l’un d’eux assez grand pour que quatre personnes s’y couchent facilement. Dans cet édifice principal se retrouvent aussi une salle de moulage bien aérée, un cabinet de jet de sable, et un atelier pour le travail à froid completement équipé avec des instruments de qualité et des tours à graver comprenant des roues de cuivre. Une grande cuisine est l’endroit où les gens se rencontrent pour placoter et discuter de leur travail. C’est aussi l’endroit où se trouve le service internet… quand celui-ci fonctionne, ce qui n’est jamais garantie. Il vaut mieux prendre la vie tranquillement, savourer les sablés ou le fromage de l’artisan et une bonne tasse de thé (ou trois) et oublier le restant de la planète pour un certain temps.

Cold working room / Cold salle de travail

One thing that has particularly impacted me when I’ve been at North Lands for classes or to attend a conference is that the focus tends to be on art and design rather than simply an individual medium. It’s true that the studio is built to support glass practices, but North Lands has a great reputation for welcoming artists of any and all media to be involved in residencies and instruction. For example, at September’s conference discussions and demonstrations were focused on issues of colour and light. Each presenter had a different take on how colour and light affect design. Some even leaned way over into the scientific, which though it may sound dry was, in my opinion, some of the most interesting. This gentle redirecting of the artist away from their chosen medium, through a channel or two of innovative thought, and coming back full-circle to reintroduce the artist to their medium in a new light is unique in the glass world. Because of this and the way that this programming affects North Lands’ choices of instructors, I believe that glass artists wishing to pursue new depths in their work are well served with the multitude of excellent classes, conferences and residencies offered. The bottom line is that North Lands’ programming focuses on learning, experimenting and connecting. Certainly for myself, each time I’ve visited North Lands I’ve come away with new positive directions to pursue in my own practice. And I’ve met a heck of a lot of interesting people on the way.

Ce qui me marque le plus quand je suis un cours ou que j’écoute une conférence à North Lands est la primauté donné à l’art et au design, plutôt que considérer le verre comme un simple medium. Même si l’atelier est construit spécialement pour le travail du verre, North Lands a la réputation d’inviter des artistes de tous genres de médias en résidence et comme conférenciers. Par exemple, la conférence, la discussion et la démonstration de septembre étaient concentrées sur la couleur et la lumière. Chaque intervenant avait une différente approche sur la façon que la couleur et la lumière agit sur le design. Même certaines interventions plutôt arides du domaine scientifique m’ont paru des plus intéressantes. Une mise en commun des différentes approches artistiques de la lumière et la couleur est plutôt unique, surtout appliqué à l’art verrier. Le choix des instructeurs, l’excellence des cours, des conférences et des résidences offertes expliquent pourquoi le programme de North Lands sera apprécié de tout artiste du verre voulant explorer son art en profondeur. L’essentiel, c’est que la formation à North Lands est dirigée principalement sur l’étude, l’expérimentation et le lien entre les deux. Je reviens de chaque visite à North Lands avec de nouvelles avenues d’exploration pour mon art. Et j’y ai de plus rencontré plein de gens très intéressants.

Grinigoe & Sinclair Castles, just up the coast from North Lands / Grinigoe Sinclair & Châteaux, juste en haut de la côte de North Lands

Besides the attraction of a hiatus from busy, city-dweller living to the unmitigated joys of working creatively in an idyllic setting, where else in the world can you go to investigate glass processes within walking distance of ancient standing stones and burial barrows, ruined churches and croft houses, beaches, fossils, castles (both ruined and inhabited), graveyards (Mind Mortality my favourite headstone injunction), coastal hikes, coastal tours by water, and three (count ‘em, three!) pubs. If the glass doesn’t pull you in, the people, scenery, sights and sounds of Scotland certainly will. Those alone will ensure that your art direction will never be the same. My own Scottish ancestry pulls me back time and again, and I am renewed by the experiences and history of my grandparents’ homeland. I know that I, for one, will be scraping together shortbread money and going back again as soon as possible.

À part l’attrait d’une coupure avec la ville et de créer dans un endroit aussi enchanteur est fantastique, où ailleurs sur la planète trouverez-vous un endroit où approfondir votre connaissance du verre tout en marchant d’un pub à l’autre (il y en a trois) le long de ruines en vieilles pierres, le long des plages, près de fossiles et de vieux châteaux inhabités en ruine, ou en voguant sur la mer, au pied des falaises de Lybster? Si le verre ne vous attire pas, les personnes, les paysages, les attractions touristiques et les sons d’Écosse le feront certainement. Tout cela combiné transformera à jamais votre vie artistique. Mes propres ancêtres écossais m’y attirent de temps à autres et je suis transformée par les expériences et les histoires du pays natal de mes grands-parents. Je sais que j’économiserai encore sous après sous pour revenir aussitôt que possible.

For more information on North Lands Creative Glass Centre, visit

www.northlandsglass.com

Jamie McDonald Gray is a Calgary artist working in kiln-formed glass processes. She coordinates the Calgary Warm Glass Guild and is on the board of directors for the Glass Art Association of Canada. She is a great appreciator of shortbread.

Jamie McDonald Gray est une artiste résidente de Calgary travaillant le verre thermoformé. Elle est coordinatrice de la guilde Calgary Warm Glass Guild et siège au conseil d’administration du GAAC. Elle est également fervente admiratrice des biscuits sablés!