by: Bruno Andrus

Glassblower
PhD Candidate in Art History
Part-time faculty, Department of Art History
Concordia University

 To read the FULL LENGTH TEXT with great images click here

This text proposes a synthesis of the research I conducted in the context of my Master’s Thesis in Art History.^[1] It retraces the early history (1960-1986) of the artistic practice of glassblowing in Quebec by highlighting the first actors who played a major role in the development of art glass and a glass community in Quebec, as well as their influences. This general period begins, in 1960, with the opening of  Murano Glass, in Montreal, and ends with the opening of Espace Verre / Le Centre des métiers du verre du Québec in 1986. What interested me most are the persons, the events, the contexts of apprenticeships and networking, the studios, equipements, tools and the productions. I was driven by the desire to understand the genealogy of the first community of artistic glassblowers in Quebec, consisted of Sabatino de Rosa, Gilles Désaulniers, Toan Klein, Ronald Lukian, Ronald Labelle, Jean Vallières and François Houdé. These artisans and artists will be at the origin of the foundation of institutions and a very active community  of glassworkers in Quebec. We shall also see that the initiatives of Elena Lee, owner of the first glass art gallery in Canada, located in Montreal, of Jean Michel, director of the Quebec Craft Council (CMAQ) in the middle of 1970s, of Claude Morin, glassblower of French origin having given the first glassblowing workshop in Quebec in 1976, as well as Robert Held and Martin Demaine, Canadian glassblowing pioneers (from the USA), all contributed to the emergence of new cultural productions. More widely we shall see that in Quebec, the development of an artistic practice of glassblowing origins from two sources: the European tradition (Italian, Czech and French) and the American innovation (Studio Glass Movement).

Martin Demaine and François Houdé (front), 1979
Collection Ronald Lukian

 

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[1] ANDRUS, Bruno. Le développement de la pratique artistique du verre soufflé au Québec. Thesis. Concordia University. 2010

Unless specified, the information used to construct this historical narrative was gathered through recorded oral testimony and interviews.

 

Histoire du développement de la pratique artistique du verre soufflé au Québec            1960 – 1986

Par: Bruno Andrus

Souffleur de verre
Doctorant en Histoire de l’art
Part-time faculty, Department of Art History
Concordia University

Pour lire LE TEXTE PLEINE LONGEUR avec de belles images, cliquez ici

Ce texte propose une synthèse du résultat des recherches que j’ai effectuées dans le cadre de mon mémoire de maîtrise en histoire de l’art, en présentant l’histoire du développement de la pratique artistique du verre soufflé au Québec pour la période 1960-1986. [1] Mon enquête met en lumière les premiers acteurs qui ont joué un rôle prépondérant dans l’essor du travail artistique du verre à chaud et leurs influences. Cette période générale s’étend depuis l’ouverture de la compagnie Murano Glass, à Montréal en 1960, jusqu’à l’ouverture de Espace Verre / Le Centre des métiers du verre du Québec en 1986. Ce qui m’a davantage intéressé sont les personnes, les événements, les contextes d’apprentissage et de réseautage, les ateliers et les productions, donc de comprendre la généalogie de la première communauté de souffleurs de verre au Québec composée de  Sabatino de Rosa, Gilles Désaulniers, Toan Klein, Ronald Lukian, Ronald Labelle, Jean Vallières et François Houdé.  Ces derniers ont été à l’origine de la fondation d’institutions et d’une communauté de verriers maintenant très actifs au Québec. Nous verrons aussi que certaines des actions de la part de Elena Lee, propriétaire de la première galerie de verre d’art au Canada, située à Montréal, de Jean Michel, directeur de Métiers d’art de Montréal au milieu des années 1970 et de Claude Morin, souffleur de verre d’origine française ayant donné le premier stage pratique de soufflage du verre au Québec en 1976, ainsi que de Robert Held, Martin Demaine, pionniers canadiens (d’origine étasunienne) du soufflage de verre,  ont contribué à l’apparition de biens culturels nouveaux. Plus largement, nous verrons qu’au Québec le développement d’une pratique artistique du verre soufflé origine de deux sources: la tradition Européenne (italienne, tchèque et française)  et l’innovation Américaine (Studio Glass Mouvement).

Martin Demaine et François Houdé (à l’avant), 1979
Collection Ronald Lukian

 

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[1] ANDRUS, Bruno. Le développement de la pratique artistique du verre soufflé au Québec. Mémoire de maîtrise. Université Concordia. 2010

A moins d’indication contraire, l’information utilisée pour construire cette trame historique provient d’enquêtes orales dont le contenu est documenté.

I worked for Jeff for about two years part-time and knew him as an advisor through Harbourfront Centre while I was there for three years.

One of my highlights at Harbourfront was when Jeff asked me to be in a show with him that was called Person to Person a Continuum in 2003.  Jeff was very inspiring to me and one of the first people in the glass world that really gave me hope to pursue glass as a business.  He proved to me that it could be done in Canada.  The way in which he worked with architectural glass and with his artistic practice was really amazing.  Jeff was really positive and this was probably the biggest thing that I learned from him.  He took on projects with no fear.  His youthful and energetic demeanor made me think he could do anything.

I’ve had a really hard time coming to terms with Jeff’s death because of this, I think. I still can’t believe he is gone. I’ve been busy raising two kids and starting our own hotshop; I didn’t even know Jeff had cancer. I wish I had told him at one point what an inspiration he was to me and that working for him was one of the highlights of my professional career. I’ll always remember Jeff when I get into a project and start thinking of everything that might go wrong and I often stop myself and think ‘Jeff would just do it’, stop thinking and do it.  He was a great mentor.

Compass Bowl – Jeff Goodman

By: Laura Donefer

What follows was prepared and presented by Laura Donefer at Jeff’s Celebration of Life service.

Once in awhile a golden comet of a human being sails through your orbit and dazzles you with their inner beauty and outer effervescence.  Jeff Goodman was that comet, a brilliant human being who left us too early, a man golden from deep within his core,  a fundamentally first-rate person who was decent and good through and through……..and someone who is leaving a giant hole in our community.

So we come together today to honour a man who has contributed greatly to our glass family, and to mourn his loss.  All of us here tonight can hold onto our unique personal memories of Jeff, and we will let his family know that he is someone who will always be in our hearts. Jeff Goodman will never be forgotten, he will be remembered as our wonderfully generous and eternally optimistic friend and colleague. He will be sorely missed and always loved.

In 1982 I showed up at Sheridan College and was gently persuaded by Dan Crichton to join the glass studio, as I had originally gone there for jewellery. I was older than a lot of the students there, and upon first meeting the second-years thought, “Why is there a teenager in this group?” Of course that was a very boyish Jeff, who rapidly became my role model even though he was the youngest student there. He literally glowed with youthful enthusiasm and energy, and it seemed at times like there was a whirling dervish zipping through our midst, always on the go: blowing GIANT glass, precociously running a craft business with his classmate Sheila Mahut, secretly dashing off to play golf or squash, always with multiple projects happening.  And he did not dress like a glass artist, so he stood out in his deck shoes and beige chino pants and button-down shirts while we all looked like hippies in our Birkenstocks and ripped colourful cotton wear.

But Jeff stood out in another way; he was always remarkably kind, always generous, continuously giving of himself and would always take the time to lend a hand to his friends. I don’t think that trait ever changed, only growing more powerful as he matured

Way back then, Jeff would let me  – a lowly first year – watch him blow glass and even help him and he could take more gathers than anyone around, which made my eyes pop out! Once, Jeff was making this huge piece about three feet long, and he had it on the punty and he was doing a last flash before boxing it, and low and behold one fat raindrop came through the holey roof of the old Quonset hut and landed precisely on the punty and SMASH, the whole piece came crashing down. I almost threw up I was so upset but Jeff, no, nothing phased him at all and he looked at me cowering in the corner and without batting an eye said “Laura, let’s make another one, that was fun!”  I give that as an example of how Jeff flowed through life:mfull of zeal, full of passion and letting nothing get in his way, and nothing phase him.  He was always up for a challenge.

Memories of Jeff abound, and it seems as if it was only yesterday we were at Harbourfront together in the glass studio. What comes to mind was his passion for the art of blowing glass, he did it like he was born with a blow pipe in his hand. So graceful, and also a bit crazy! Jeff might have dressed the part of the straight man, but he was just as zany as the rest of the glass artists. Time and time again I would be Jeff’s assistant on these ridiculously gargantuan platters that he would spin out and time and time again they never quite fit in the annealer, and it would become a frantic race grabbing fiber frax and molding it over the rim of the plate that would be sticking out. Once we were hanging out at the Harbourfront glass studio and there was a colossal  crack and we watched in horror as a large hunk of the lip exploded off of one of Jeff’s not-so-well-annealed plates and went sailing past his face to crash onto the floor. Again, I was cowering, my heart pounding thinking O-NO-O-NO, and Jeff did not bat an eye. He calmly got some colour ready to make another one. Like I said, nothing phased him, and I do believe I never heard one swear word come from his mouth, a true rarity in the hot shop environment.

Looking back, those were truly marvelous years; the unbridled thrill of learning to work with glass at Sheridan followed by our stint at Harbourfront, endeavouring to become more professional, learning the ropes of reality, so to speak. Blowing glass collectively  fused us all together in a way I cannot even explain; such a motley crew that became a family, bonded by the intense experience of growing up in the hot shop! Watching Jeff develop from a gifted yet fledgling 20-year-old to a tremendously respected established artist and designer was quite awe inspiring. He launched into life after Harbourfront as if from a springboard, creating a successful business as well as the most important relationship he would foster with his soul mate Mercedes.

Post Harbourfront I did not see Jeff as often as I would have liked to; we sometimes taught together, were on various committees, somehow even managed dinner now and again, but he was uber busy, as was I. Jeff’s number one priority had become his family. On one occasion he had an opening of his work at Elena Lee’s Gallery in Montreal, and Susan Edgerley and I were waiting for him to arrive from Toronto so we could take him out for dinner and finally have a quality visit. To our utter dismay Jeff stayed the requisite two hours at his vernissage and then jumped  into his car and drove the seven hours back to Toronto. He did not want to spend one night away from Mercedes. That to me illuminated who the essential Jeff was: a man dedicated to his art, but even more dedicated to his heart. He was devoted to his family, his career, his friends, his students, his colleagues.

And speaking from my heart and I am sure for all of you here tonight, we are all devoted to Jeff, our most gentle and caring friend, who lived his life with humour and enthusiasm and an uninhibited fervour for his people, his projects, his passions.  I know that Jeff would want us all to leave here and endeavor to live our lives as he lived his, full speed ahead, living every moment to the hilt, and letting nothing phase us.

Goodnight Jeff, we love you.

How is it that the best and brightest have to go first.

We lost François Houdé and Daniel Crichton and now Jeff.

How shall we ever recover from such loss? Jeff was so full of life and energy. So many other artists looked up to him as a shining example. He was that rare artist who could maintain a thriving business and still not neglect his creative side.

We have known him for over 30 years, since his student days at Sheridan in 1981-1982. He was remarkable from the very first. Constantly challenging himself, he experimented with every technique that came his way. Explored it, then moved on.

Tribute Image – Elena Lee

Finally he settled on two very different avenues. One was his architectural glass, executed in the cast glass tradition, the other his free form blown glass. While his architectural work gained him praise and recognition, for us as his gallery, it was his soaring glass bodies that made us aware that we were dealing with an outstanding artist.

In his early years he had created sensuous bowls, beautiful flat vessels with graphic designs big ziggurat forms blown into wooden molds, that brought the fire department to his studio. But in the end all that fell away and he concentrated on the essential: pure form.

It is the sign of the mature artist that he can do more with less.  His sensuous, soaring shapes are of one colour only, no decor.  Their twists and turns impossible to achieve with tools rather it was the artist’s extraordinary control of the molten mass that allowed him to gently modulate these huge forms. They resemble nothing so much as bodies: a couple leaning towards each other, a long necked bird. They are frozen motion, beautifully balanced, serene.

By: David Williamson

To be honest, I didn’t want to write this article. I regretted saying yes almost as soon as I told Steve [Tippin] that I would, because it means returning to a sorrow I had just begun to leave behind. However, Jeff has given me so much over the years, things both tangible and intangible, so how could I not?

It’s hard to know where to start and where to end, but I will do my best to do justice to those who know and love Jeff and for those who will never meet him, but know him through the impact he has had on Canadian glass.

Geoffrey James Goodman spent his early years in British Columbia and Toronto; he attended Sheridan College and Alfred University, ultimately earning his BFA at The University of Illinois. After a residency at Harbourfront Centre, he opened his first hot shop in Toronto. Even with this commitment, he still found time to serve as an advisor to the Harbourfront Glass Studio, to teach at Sheridan College, and to act as a board member for both the Ontario Crafts Council and the Glass Art Association of Canada.

In 2009, Jeff was diagnosed with cancer; he died peacefully with his family in March 2012. Jeff handled his illness with grace and dignity never letting it affect his responsibilities and relationships (instead he used it as an excuse to play more golf during work hours than ever before).

Over the five years I spent working for Jeff, we spent a lot of time together. Mostly we focused on work—problem-solving, planning, and updating each other on new techniques or tools we could possibly incorporate into our projects. We also chatted about things that friends chat about, like movies, music (he loved any type of jazz), what we did on the weekend, stuff like that. But it was when we were blowing glass together that the purest communication happened. The relationship of a glassblower and assistant is one of action on the part of the gaffer and anticipation on the part of the assistant.

The more I got to work with Jeff in the hot shop, the better I became at anticipating his actions and responding to his unspoken directions, at judging his moods and temperament. Our sounds were the gentle roar of the furnace and glory hole, the clink of a tool being set down, a blast of compressed air, or the whirl of a fan. Our smells were swiftly melting wax, burnt newspaper, or a smoldering shoe if I lost my focus. No competition; just action and appropriate reaction. Since his passing, I’ve come to realize how lucky I am to have spent that sort of time with him. Jeff’s presence was always felt, but it was in those moments that his focus and drive were so apparent, his peace in the sport of blowing glass so enviable. Truly he was experiencing something that people from all walks of life strive for—a perfect harmony of mind, body and soul. Jeff’s power was subtle yet instant, and I didn’t fully understand it until those moments.

Jeff Goodman blowing glass

Jeff had a unique understanding of his work and what it meant to be successful in the world of glass—over time shifting from functional production work to high-end blown glass and one-of-a-kind installations.

Seeing himself as a craftsman more than an artist, his love of glass came from the sport and physical skill required to work the material. His comfort and ease can be seen in all his blown work, which rely heavily on an understanding of the forces that affect glass like gravity, heat, and centrifugal force. Looking at the sandcast glass panels that fill homes and public spaces, it’s easy to see that his understanding of pattern and 2D space was just as strong. He was fond of ceramics, particularly the Raku technique, and he never limited himself to projects that consisted solely of glass.

He loved artists who worked with wood and nature like Chris Drury and printmakers like Antoni Tápies or Cy Twombly, whose influence can be seen in Jeff`s Scribe pieces.  His career also included working with other creative people such as architects, designers and craftspeople. He had a knack for attracting the best, and then getting the best out of them. Past employees have gone on to found studios of their own and are now important members of the Canadian glass community.

His biggest project came in 2005 when he was commissioned by Hariri Pontarini Architects of Toronto to produce 44,000 sq ft of cast glass for the exterior of the Bahá’í Mother Temple in Santiago, Chile. Though he did not live to see its completion, the project broadened the idea of what is actually possible for a small studio to undertake, and he should be admired for the guts he had to say yes to that project.

I have heard it said that Jeff had many families. His wonderful wife and children, brother and sister and their children and spouses, childhood cohorts, schoolmates, tennis, squash and golf buddies, and those he worked with, just to name a few. I belong in the last category, but no matter what ‘family’ you come from, I know that you felt loved and respected by Jeff. I know that he made you feel powerful in your own way and confident to be the best version of yourself. Jeff’s strength and self-understanding seemed to touch each individual that met him, making everyone around him a little bit better.

As a catalyst for growth in the glass community, for creativity, for sheer genuine humanity, Jeff was simply a wonderful person, and, although his loss is felt most strongly by those who knew him, we cannot imagine the impact he has had on the future of Canadian glass. I feel blessed to have worked beside him and will carry his influence with me for the rest of my life.

Pour Jeff

Par : David Williamson

Franchement, je ne souhaitais pas écrire cet article. Quand Steve (Tippin) me l’a demandé, j’ai regretté  tout de suite de lui avoir dit oui, car ça voulait dire revenir sur une douleur qui commençait à peine à s’éloigner. Mais Jeff m’a tellement donné durant toutes ces années, tant de façon tangible qu’intangible, qu’il m’était impossible de refuser.

Difficile de savoir par où commencer et comment finir.  Je vais tenter de faire de mon mieux pour satisfaire ceux qui ont connu et aimé Jeff, ainsi que ceux qui ne le rencontreront jamais mais qui l’ont connu au travers de son impact sur le verre canadien.

Geoffrey James Goodman a débuté en Colombie Britannique ainsi qu’à Toronto. Inscrit d’abord au  Collège Sheridan puis à  Alfred , il obtient par la suite son baccalauréat de l’Université de l’ Illinois. Après une résidence au centre Harbourfront , il ouvrit son premier atelier à Toronto. Malgré cet engagement, il parvenait toujours à trouver du temps pour être  conseiller auprès des verriers en résidence à  Harbourfront, enseigner au Collège Sheridan et être membre des conseils d’administration du Conseil des métiers d’art de l’Ontario et de L’association canadienne du verre d’art .

Atteint par le cancer en 2009, Jeff décéda paisiblement au sein de sa famille en mars 2012. Faisant face avec grâce et dignité, Jeff n’a jamais laissé sa maladie prendre le dessus sur ses responsabilités et ses relations (bien au contraire, il en profitait pour pouvoir jouer encore plus au golf pendant ses heures de travail qu’avant).

Les cinq années passées à travailler en sa compagnie  nous ont permis de passer beaucoup de temps ensemble. La plupart du temps, nous nous concentrions sur le travail,  résoudre des problèmes, planifier et se tenir informé des nouvelles techniques et des outils que nous pouvions incorporer dans nos projets. Nous discutions aussi de choses et d’autres dont les amis parlent : de cinéma, de musique (il adorait beaucoup le jazz), de nos activités du weekend, ce genre de choses. Mais c’est en soufflant le verre ensemble que nous parvenions à la communication la plus pure entre nous. La relation entre le souffleur de verre et son assistant se caractérise par l’action du souffleur et l’anticipation de son assistant.

Plus je travaillais à l’atelier avec Jeff, et plus j’arrivais à anticiper ses actes et à répondre à ses directions muettes, en fonction de  ses humeurs et de son tempérament. Nos bruits étaient le ronronnement doux de l’arche et du four de fusion, le tintement d’un outil que l’on repose, le souffle de l’air comprimé ou la spirale d’un ventilateur. Nos odeurs étaient celles de la cire qui fond doucement, du papier journal brulé ou d’une chaussure fumante lorsque je me déconcentrais. Pas de concurrence, juste de l’action et la réaction appropriée. Depuis sa mort, je me suis rendu compte à quel point j’avais eu de la chance d’avoir pu passer ces moments avec lui. La présence de Jeff était toujours intense, mais c’est dans ces moments-là que sa concentration et son dynamisme étaient au plus fort, rendant sa force tranquille en soufflage des plus enviables. Clairement, il parvenait à ressentir vraiment ce à quoi beaucoup de gens de tous horizons aspirent – une harmonie parfaite entre la pensée, le corps et l’esprit. Le pouvoir de Jeff était subtile mais instantané et je ne l’avais jamais vraiment ressentit jusqu’à dans ces moments-là.

L’approche de Jeff dans son travail et son avis sur la réussite dans le monde du verre  était unique. Passant avec le temps de la production fonctionnelle au soufflage de verre de haut niveau et à la confection d’installations incomparables.

Se considérant artisan plutôt qu’artiste, son amour pour le verre provenait du sport et de l’effort physique nécessaires pour travailler ce matériau. Toutes ses œuvres soufflées nous montrent à quel point il maitrisait les forces qui influent sur le verre comme la gravité, la chaleur et la force centrifuge. En voyant les panneaux de verre dépolis qui remplissent les maisons et les espaces publiques, on se rend compte aisément que sa compréhension des motifs et de l’espace en 2D était tout aussi solide. Il aimait la céramique, en particulier la technique de Raku et ne se limitait pas seulement à des projets spécifiques au verre.

Il adorait les artistes travaillant avec le bois et la nature comme Chris Drury et les sérigraphes tels qu’Antoni Tápies et Cy Twombly dont on retrouve l’influence dans les œuvres Scribe de Jeff. Au cours de sa carrière, Il a aussi travaillé avec d’autres personnes créatives comme des architectes, des designers et des artisans. Il avait le don d’attirer les meilleurs et d’en sortir le meilleur d’eux-mêmes. Certains de ses précédents employés sont partis par la suite fonder leur propre atelier et sont à présent membres eux aussi de la communauté verrière canadienne.

Son plus grand projet date de 2005 lorsqu’il fut choisi par les Architectes Hariri Pontarini de Toronto pour produire 44,000 pieds² de pâte de verre pour l’extérieur du Temple Mère de Bahá’í à Santiago au Chili. Bien qu’il ne vit pas son œuvre achevée, le projet ouvre l’esprit sur ce qu’il est réellement possible d’entreprendre au sein d’un petit atelier et il est admirable d’avoir eu le cran d’accepter un tel projet.

J’ai entendu dire que Jeff avait de nombreuses familles. Sa merveilleuse femme et ses enfants, ses frères et sœurs avec enfants et époux, ses amis d’enfance et d’études, ses copains de tennis, golf et squash, et ceux avec qui il travaillait, pour n’en citer que quelques-unes. J’appartiens à la dernière catégorie, mais qu’importe la famille à laquelle on appartenait, on se sentait apprécié et respecté de Jeff.  Il nous donnait de quoi se sentir sûr de nous à notre façon et prendre confiance en soi.  En rencontrant Jeff, on se sentait touché par sa force et sa compréhension des choses et chacun autour de lui  se sentait un petit peu mieux.

Son côté humain et sa créativité ont fait de lui un mentor pour l’expansion de la communauté du verre.  Jeff était tout simplement une personne merveilleuse et même si ceux qui l’ont connu ressentent plus profondément encore sa perte, il est difficile d’imaginer l’impact qu’il a eu sur le futur du verre canadien. Je me sens privilégié d’avoir pu travailler à ses côtés et je porterai son influence en moi toute ma vie.

When Irene Frolic asked Tyler and I to be co-presidents of the Board of GAAC, I felt so honoured but panicked at the same time. At that point I had been practicing as a professional artist for just a few years and although I had been to few conferences and had been a volunteer, I just felt like I didn’t know enough about Canadian glass or the organization. I was relieved that Tyler was splitting the job with me, but as his teaching responsibilities at ACAD grew, my role as president became more involved.

When I look back at my time on the Board, I think about how much work it was, but I also think I received an education about so many things. One of my principal teachers on the Board, and in my life at that time, was Jeff Goodman. His contributions to Board decisions and activities were sage and true. If Jeff said he would do something, I knew I could count on him to do it. He demonstrated in his day-to-day actions so many values I admire. To me his honour was a line that went from his words to his actions. Jeff taught me by example and although his knowledge surpassed my own, he shared it in a kind way.

Since that time I have looked up to Jeff as an example of how to be a practicing artist – hard working, talented, savvy, I also looked up to him as a human being: kind, full of integrity, giving to your community with humility. He did all of these things not for any validation or self-promotion but I believe just because he knew it was the right thing to do.  He was truly a good man and he made many better by his way of being.

Jeff Goodman with past GAAC president Brad Copping

Back in 1988, I showed up at Jeff’s first studio one evening in response to an advertisement he had placed in the Glass Gazette. We chatted for a bit and it seemed clear that we both saw value in this match so I started working as his studio assistant. For the next 8 years I worked for Jeff on Dupont, then Bloor and Lansdowne and then to King and Dufferin as he moved and expanded his studios. These moves were a clear indication of the recognition of his design and business talent. His final studio in Scarborough is a gem and established a solid base for his work for the next 14 years.

As his first studio assistant, I learned an enormous amount about the “art” of being an artist and running a business, as an artist – a challenging combination. Jeff was very generous in sharing his knowledge and expertise with other developing artists. He was an inspiration to me, a mentor, and a friend. He had the unique ability to combine a fine design and aesthetic sensibility with a practical insight in how to run a business. Jeff was one of Canada’s true success stories in the art and craft world. He has left a strong legacy and his success can serve as a strong model for other artists.

Jeff and Ben casting

What follows is a speech prepared and given by Koen Vanderstukken at Jeff’s Celebration of Life.

Welcome Mercedes, Zoe and Dylan

Welcome family, friends, colleagues, students and everybody else present here tonight.

It is with very mixed emotions that I’m standing here in front of you. Mixed, because on one hand we have lost a great member of our community, and we cannot be anything else but deeply saddened by this.

But on the other hand we have also lots to remember and to be thankful for. Jeff left us with so many good memories that we cannot help having a little smile on our faces every time we think of him.

I was asked to speak about Jeff Goodman on behalf of the Sheridan College community and more specific the glass studio.

Jeff had a very long and close connection with Sheridan. It was in 1981 that he entered the furniture studio committed to find out everything there is to learn about woodworking. His ultimate goal: building his own boat.

But after only a couple of months, it became clear that Jeff was destined to work with glass. The heat and the glow of the furnaces, the flow of the material, the physical engagement, the directness of the creation and so many other aspects of working with glass that most of us can relate to, drew him into the glass studio. I’m sure Dan Crichton, the studio head at the time, also had something to do with it too.

After two years, Jeff continued his explorations at Alfred University in New York state and ultimately he received his BFA at the University of Illinois in 1986.

Upon his return to Toronto he would start a three-year residency at Harbourfront and shortly after he would open the Jeff Goodman Studio, without a doubt one of the most successful glass studios in Canada.

Lima Veer

It is during this time that Jeff also returned to Sheridan College, this time not as a student, but as a teacher. His contributions to the glass studio at Sheridan were fundamental. He widened the scope of hot casting techniques, deepened the research in sandcasting, added an architectural component to the curriculum and brought new insights to designing glass. Those of you who were fortunate enough to have taken some of Jeff’s classes, will surely know what I’m talking about. My partner Rommy is one of those former students. And since I met her, now about nine years ago, I’ve heard comments, over and over again, of how inspirational and stimulating Jeff’s classes were; almost up to the point where I started doubting my own skills and wondered what it was that he has that I don’t have?

But obviously it wasn’t a competition. With Jeff it could never be a competition. For him it was all about supporting each other, about teamwork and about the community, and this without big words or without tapping his own chest. Even about his own studio he said: “Jeff Goodman studio isn’t me, it’s the group.”

Jeff was a silent engine, but a very powerful one.

He would not take credit for it, but he supported the Canadian glass community in more than one way. As one of the members of ‘Ten North’, he helped put Canada on the map internationally and by doing so, opening new gateways for other Canadian artists looking for international recognition.

The success of his studio inspired every one of his peers by proving that it can be done: you can realize your dreams, you can create high quality glass and you can make a living out of it too … and all of this without compromising, without stepping over somebody else, without being all self-absorbed. On the contrary, Jeff was a perfect husband and father, the ideal family man and he carried those qualities over to his professional life too. He was and remained humble, carrying and supportive.

It is in this context that every year, he invited the third-year Sheridan students over to his studio. The last trip was only months ago. He would excite them and tell them how they too could realize their dreams. He also hired many graduates after they left school. It was an ideal opportunity for young starting artists to get a taste of real live and experience what it means to run a studio and be professional.

Jeff is a monument of Canadian glass. It would be impossible to make a list of everything he achieved and how that influenced the community that he was so much part of. Therefore, I would like to present to you a Dutch song. Don’t worry, I’m not going to sing it, but it contains a powerful metaphor. It was written by singer/songwriter Bram Vermeulen and translated it’s main chorus goes like this:

“I moved a stone in a river somewhere on earth.

Now I know that I will never be forgotten,

I gave the proof to my existence

Because, by moving this one stone,

The water will never follow the same path again.”

Jeff didn’t move a stone. He moved a Canadian rock. He will never be forgotten and we’ll all miss him dearly.

Thank you.

Republished with permission

Canadian Craft Education Opportunities – Article for i-studentadvisor.com

The history of Craft is as old as the history of humanity itself.  It is intrinsically tied to the production of functional goods for use and beauty, but has expanded over time to include artistic sculpture, contemporary design and unique entrepreneurial abilities.

For those with a passion to create, Craft offers a spectacular range of media to explore. Textiles, ceramics and glass, jewellery and metal sculpture, woodworking, furniture design, fashion and much more are open to personal interpretation and development in Canadian institutions across the country.

Students and instructors work as a team in the Sheridan glass studio

Much like its broad geographic expanse, Canada has an equally broad field of Craft study.  Major urban centres like Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal, Calgary and Halifax have internationally renowned institutions, but smaller cities such as St. John’s, Fredericton, Regina, and Winnipeg or rural towns like Red Deer, Nelson and Haliburton also host respected facilities with unique programming in Craft.

Whether your choice of institution is based on interest in a particular medium, available courses, location or a simple desire to change your life – Canadian schools provide in-depth Craft education paired with excellent community support.

Artwork by Koen Vanderstukken, Studio Head of Glass at Sheridan. Title: Virtual Reality 11-15-05, Dimensions: 49x36x36cm, Materials: Float glass, LCD-TV, camera, hardware

Over 22,000 practicing craftspeople live and work in Canada, many of whom are graduates from one of our leading institutions.  Programs range from bachelors and master’s programs in Fine Art and Design in the university stream, to diploma programs at community and private colleges.  The selection is broad, and each school offers individualistic programs based on technique, history, and entrepreneurship.

Careers in Craft are not contained to that of a practicing artist. University and Colleges offer instruction in curatorial studies, craft and art history, criticism and arts administration.  From conceptual artistic explorations to functional production development, Canadian Craft studies teach artisans to create beautiful, unique works of art while also encouraging skills in business, entrepreneurship, critique and curating.

Alberta College of Art + Design, Glass Olympics, Faculty and Students

This blend of instruction leads students towards excellence in Craft techniques and real-world application skills that allow artists to thrive in the gallery, museum, studio and boutique settings after their schooling is through.  A student of any Craft field could very well become a shop owner, teacher, curator, author, critic, program coordinator or any other arts related profession.

Post-graduation, the options are endless.  But students of Craft in Canada are not left to stumble through the community alone.  An extensive network of regional Craft Councils and the Canadian Crafts Federation is there to guide individual makers; providing opportunities for exhibition and the sale of their work in shops, galleries and fairs, advice on grants, scholarships and other funding, and to continue professional development beyond formal schooling.

Alberta College of Art + Design, Glass Olympics, Faculty and Students

This support system is open to every craftsperson who chooses to become a member of a Craft Council, either during their studies or afterwards.  Individuals who join are connected to over 6,000 other practicing artists and a number of professional staff who offer mentorship, guidance and support in the early, middle and late stages of your career.

Above all else, studying in Canada allows students to experience a free and open society, where students and teachers travel from across the globe to make Canada their home. The history of our country is rooted in immigration, which has deeply impacted the type of Craft both taught and practiced here.  Stylistic and technical influences, especially those from Asia and Europe, have greatly impacted Canadian Craft, yet we maintain a unique presence in the global community.  Canada’s Aboriginal arts are another important ingredient in the understanding of Canadian identity as a whole.  Historic and contemporary studies of Aboriginal Craft are included in general arts courses, and in many cases, as specific college- and university-level programs.

Proximity and Touch #13, Natali Rodrigues, Bigger: 18x32x7, Smaller: 5.5x9x4.5, 2010, cast, hot formed and cold worked. Photo Credit: Ward Bastian

Every student has the opportunity to contribute to the ongoing history of our Craft, adding to the rich history of differing perspectives that have made our artistic identity great.  With scholarly options in every Province and Territory, we welcome you to explore all the schools of Craft through the Canadian Crafts Federation website.

By Larissa Blokhuis

If I hadn’t been born in a city with a glass school, I would definitely still be an artist, but I wouldn’t be a glassblower.  Like most people, before I tried glassblowing, I didn’t realise it was something you could do as an art form.  In grade school it seems like the basic experiences you can have consist of many 2D techniques, and only ceramics for 3D.  (I’ll be happy if I’m wrong about that for your former school.)  Ceramics have never really appealed to me and I couldn’t have known what else was available until it was offered.  Because glass is offered at the Alberta College of Art and Design, and because I was lucky enough to be born in Calgary, I am a glassblower.  After art school, when I moved from Calgary to Vancouver, I lost the potential for a support system of former teachers and my graduating class.  My support system when I arrived consisted of Jill Allan.  She’s a good support system, but she’s only one woman. 

One-Woman Support System: Jill Allan getting ready to blow glass at Rogue Wave Glassworks, Photo credit: Larissa Blokhuis

Public interest

People are interested in glassblowing in Vancouver.  Working in New-Small and Sterling, a gallery specializing in Canadian glass on Granville Island, I have been approached countless times by people who want to know more about how and where they can study glass.  Then I see the disappointment as they learn that there is no glassblowing school in Vancouver.  They can’t afford to or don’t want to uproot their whole lives to go to Calgary for a BFA or Oakville for an Advanced Diploma.  With all the post-secondary schools in the lower mainland, many people expect to be able to learn to blow glass without re-locating.

Even for those looking only for an expensive hobby, there are few options.  New-Small and Sterling offers a two-day weekend course, the only course offered in Vancouver that I am aware of.  (If you are in BC and offer a course, let me know!)  If somebody wants more than two days, they must leave Vancouver for a weeklong summer course at Red Deer College or a three-week intensive at Pilchuck.  Andrighetti Glass offers only short flameworking courses, beginner to intermediate.  The last option is to find a glassblower willing to do private lessons.  There are a few glassblowers who offer such opportunities, but they are often in the Greater Vancouver area rather than Vancouver proper, and they are not centrally organised and can be difficult to find.  Two such teachers are Malcolm Macfadyen and Jeff Burnette.  As for cold construction and kiln-forming techniques, I have never heard any discussion of where one might learn fusing or casting or any other technique not dependant on a hotshop. 

It’s all about who you know   

That phrase means more and more to me the longer I stay in Vancouver.  With its well-established art scene and hordes of artists moving here to make it big every year, Vancouver doesn’t need to advertise its opportunities to attract people.  And it often doesn’t.  Many opportunities in Vancouver are only available if you already know the people you’re trying to meet and impress.  Without a school to serve as a central point for glass artists to perform and attend demonstrations and lectures, I find many of us do not network or meet face-to-face in groups frequently enough for my liking.  With a school present, we could all get to know each other a little better and help each other find opportunities.  With enough glass artists working side-by-side to require organisation, we would have an easier time creating our own opportunities. 

If I had not got a job at New-Small and Sterling, I would not have known where exactly to look to meet other glass artists in BC.  The BC Glass Art Association provides some opportunities and involves local artists, but I often feel that we are quite spread out and sometimes share no history.  If we were all sharing information at a school, we would build a common base of knowledge and history.  As well, the BCGAA is run by volunteers, which means that members must focus on other jobs for income first and BCGAA involvement second or third.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the BCGAA get-togethers, and I will be excited to see and be involved with more of them.  A glass school in Vancouver would be a great place for established BCGAA members to meet potential new members. 

The fact is that glass artists primarily come together wherever there is equipment available.  Starfish was the type of location that brought glass artists together to create a community.  There is a community around New-Small and Sterling, but it could be bigger.  Vancouver needs a public hotshop/coldshop to bring us together, but the cost of utilities and the price to rent land in Vancouver is too high.  If the hotshop were incorporated into a school the cost could be covered.

What is it you’re making?

With a place to work and meet, artists would have better access to the constructive criticisms of others, something I miss from school.  There is no regular forum for glass artists to get interested in what others are doing and to discuss ideas.  Critiques from friends are helpful, but they can lack the objectivity of a colleague from your studio or school.  In a school environment, it is not presumptuous to question somebody about very specific technical details and concepts regarding what they’re making.  With many glass artists asking questions and sharing information, each individual would have more opportunity to improve the quality of their work and try new techniques.  As well, if a glass school were attracting visiting artists, there could always be new influences available.  It is always beneficial to watch others work, to see what is successful and to provoke thought about why things are done one way or another.

Jim Norton Demo: One of Jim’s demos at ACAD circa 2006, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhuis

If I lived in a city with a glass school, I would probably try to teach/work there.  There is a chance to grow my career as an artist in Vancouver, but I also need to think about secure housing (which means secure income) and health benefits in the future.  I also have to think about improving my techniques and practises, and that includes taking more courses.  I will have no option but to leave Vancouver and its thriving art scene, internationally known galleries, and tourist dollars to do so.

Every year I meet enough Vancouverites who want to try glass that they could easily fill two semesters’ worth of continuing education courses.  As in every city, there are young artists thinking about what direction they want to take.  If glass were an option in one of the many art programs available here, some of them would be glass artists too.  Vancouver has attracted some amazing glass artists, and it’s time for the city to start producing them as well.

By Sally McCubbin

Here Today Gone Tomorrow, 2010 by artist Sally McCubbin installed at Earlscourt and St. Clair Ave., Toronto –for more on the project visit www.sallymccubbin.com

In 2008, the City of Toronto in partnership with the Toronto Transit Commission invited artists to apply for the St. Clair Avenue West Transit Improvements Public Art Program. The initiative was to provide visual art for the then almost-completed light rail transit line along St. Clair Avenue West in Toronto. The streetcar stops to be adorned with art panels would extend from Yonge St. to Keele St., making up a 6.2 km stretch of public art.

When I was approached about applying for the project, I was a resident in the glass studio at Toronto’s Harbourfront Centre and my career was focused on that. The idea of making large public works wasn’t on the radar, but the conditions seemed right:

• I grapple with making art that is affordable and available to so few.
• I am a wholehearted supporter of the transit initiatives in my city.
• My work surrounds social commentary and I liked that it could live in the context it reflects.

Although I didn’t know how I would produce glasswork large enough (or safe enough) to meet the 3 foot by 40 foot criteria, I applied.

* * *

Corridor, 2010 by artists Jane and Kathryn Irwin installed at Glenholme and St. Clair Ave., Toronto

On a blustery winter day, about a half an hour late for the meeting, I burst into a North Toronto conference room snowy and out of breath … I had had car trouble. I was there for the project briefing, to understand better the scope of the project so that I could propose a design to be considered for inclusion into the transit line installation. This was stage two. All those that attended were very calm and collected. Many artists had brought an associate and the slideshow had already begun. About a minute after my inelegant arrival my cell phone rang, shredding the silence again. I spent the rest of the meeting acting invisible.

This memory, from over two years ago, is so vivid to me because of the inferiority I felt. To say I was nervous would be putting it mildly. Regardless of who was sitting around that table, arts-cultural-folklore had taught me that they were advanced in their artistic practices, had more experience and therefore more artistic merit and vocabulary than I.

Was I too unqualified to be there? If not, why did I feel that way?

Flatspace, 2010 by artist Sara Graham installed at Winona and St. Clair Ave., Toronto

I’ll skip to the end of the story, both to save you from the details of the next couple years and also to make my point. As it turned out, I was qualified to be there. I was awarded one commission on my own and a second commission for a collaborative design with Aaron Oussoren. We have since completed the projects, the pieces are installed along St. Clair Avenue and all twenty-five works by the city’s photographers, multi-media artists, metal and glass artists, painters and sculptors look great.

My question remains, why was I so intimidated? Why does the realm of public art reek of hierarchical greatness?

Meeting, 2010 by artist Panya Clark Espinal installed at Dunvegan and St. Clair Ave., Toronto

The GAAC conference in Montreal this past May was filled with artist lecturers who make their careers as public installation artists or have received periodic public commissions. Among their assortment of project types, scales, locations and varying degrees of success, I noticed some thematic congruencies from lecture to lecture:

• All the presenters are established artists and, having had long careers of making their work by way of personal mandate, each showed distaste for the commissioning criteria and selection process.
• As a common rule, it was agreed by most that an aspiring public artist must have previous large-scale/public experience to be selected for a subsequent project, which is a discouraging double-edged sword.
• And, finally, I noticed signs of disinterest for second, third or mid-career projects that may have been less stimulating for the artist. This apathy is sometimes evident in the work’s overall success.

It seems to me, in the greater context of public art, that in many cases mature artists are simply ‘graduating’ into the realm of large public art projects.  Are juries looking for visual artists with a long history and a reputation, or are they looking for qualities that fit the criteria presented for the project? Probably a combination of the three, but does that make sense? Could Canada’s art in public spaces be more engaging and treasured if new and unusual talent was a criteria? Where does the artistic integrity end and the addiction to a large, reliable, paycheque begin?

Scenic Route, 2010 by artist Carlo Cesta installed at Avenue and St. Clair Ave., Toronto

I ask these questions in the spirit of discourse.

In my own story, concerning my selection I’ve considered the following possibilities. Perhaps the TTC and the city did have the initiative to hire new and emerging talent, as I was not the only “newcomer” among the artists commissioned. Perhaps it was difficult to find glass artists who could make work to fit the safety and structural limitations of their project. Or, perhaps it was simply the quality of my work.

One Among Many, 2010 by artists Sally McCubbin and Aaron Oussoren installed at Arlington and St. Clair Ave., Toronto –for more on the project visit www.sallymccubbin.com

I poured my heart (and brain) into the design and I have to believe that that is why they selected my proposal. So for anyone interested in making art for a public forum, if you feel your work suits such an audience and surroundings you don’t need a foot in the door, previous experience, or a reputation … you need to be passionate about the work you dream up and the reasons you need to make it.  As always.

Sally McCubbin is Managing Editor of Contemporary Canadian Glass and  is also an instructor at Sheridan College. She recently opened a studio of 12 artists in Toronto, called Elevator Art Lab. Sally is passionate about thoughtful design and created a company entitled Timid Glass Toronto with partner Aaron Oussoren that reflects this enthusiasm as well as their shared interest in environmentalism and conservationism.

par Hélène Brown, Crédit photo Jean-Pierre Lacroix

Chat des artistes

La culture est essentielle à la vie des peuples : elle les soude, les inscrit dans l’histoire, et leur permet de se dépasser, d’innover, de créer de la beauté. Par là même, elle doit être considérée comme un moteur important de la dynamique sociale et économique. Son impact sur la richesse collective est complexe, mais certain.

Dans plusieurs grandes villes du monde, nous observons un phénomène d’exode des créateurs à l’extérieur des quartiers centraux dû à la spéculation immobilière. Les artistes, ne trouvant plus d’espace abordable et adéquat pour y travailler, migrent en périphérie. Et, lorsque les créatifs quittent, nous le savons, c’est toute la vitalité d’un quartier qui quitte avec eux. De plus, dans une économie basée sur le savoir et la connaissance, la force créative représente la matière première de l’innovation. Il s’avère donc peut-être plus que jamais essentiel de contrer ce phénomène, car de là dépend notre place dans le monde, notre prospérité et notre vitalité.

Montréal n’échappe pas à ce phénomène. Bien que la ville se positionne comme une métropole culturelle, elle doit s’engager, en concertation avec les acteurs du milieu culturel, à développer des infrastructures qui vont perdurer dans le temps et soutenir la création. Toronto a vécu ce phénomène bien avant Montréal au début des années soixante-dix et elle a réagi en créant l’organisme à but non lucratif Artscape voué, entre autres, au développement d’espaces abordables pour les artistes.

En 2007, pour trouver une solution durable aux problèmes d’une communauté d’artistes du quartier menacée de perdre son lieu de travail, la Corporation de développement économique et communautaire Centre-Sud /Plateau Mont-Royal (CDEC). en partenariat avec Culture Montréal, fondent les Ateliers Créatifs, une organisation à but non lucratif, dont la mission est de développer et pérenniser des lieux de créations. S’inspirant de Toronto Artscape,  les organismes fondateurs prennent  le pari d’un développement culturel, social et économique harmonieux et inaugurent en décembre 2008, le premier projet pilote des Ateliers Créatifs : Le Chat des artistes.

Le Chat des artistes est un ancien immeuble industriel, dédié à la création, situé au 2205 rue Parthenais dans le quartier Ste-Marie, au cœur d’un pôle créatif en émergence. Il a été acquis par les Ateliers Créatifs et converti en espaces offerts en location aux artistes, artisans et organismes culturels.

Ce projet a été baptisé de façon ironique, en hommage à la chanson de Jean-Pierre Ferland « Le chat du café des artistes ». Cette pièce relate l’histoire d’un artiste qui, en désespoir de cause, offre son corps en pâtée au chat. Le Chat des artistes se veut donc une version plus positive, un élan vers ce qui anime nos quartiers, captive nos regards et ébranle nos idées.

Plus concrètement, le Chat des artistes, c’est 30 000 pieds carrés d’espace de travail, 42 ateliers et aujourd’hui, plus d’une centaine d’artistes qui y travaillent chaque jour.  Le Chat des artistes est un lieu unique de synergie créative grâce à la diversité des pratiques, des expériences (artistes de la relève côtoyant des artistes ayant déjà une carrière bien entamée), des cultures et des générations qui s’y retrouvent. Les pratiques varient allant des arts visuels et médiatiques, à la joaillerie, le théâtre, l’éco-design, la chapellerie, la reliure, le cinéma, le rembourrage, l’illustration et aussi…. le travail du verre !

Ce lieu de création devient, pour plusieurs créateurs qui utilisent les lieux. une manière de sortir de l’isolement et de faire évoluer leurs pratiques respectives par les échanges, la complémentarité et la communication entre les gens. D’ailleurs, des espaces de rencontre comme le hall, le salon et la cuisine commune ont été aménagés afin de favoriser cette vie associative. Après seulement deux ans d’existence, cette communauté devient une véritable ruche qui bourdonne d’activités influençant  positivement l’environnement social et économique du quartier.

Ainsi, ce projet se veut également un outil de revitalisation de cet ancien quartier industriel défavorisé. Lorsque les artistes arrivent dans un secteur, ils l’embellissent, lui donnent une âme et le transforment. L’art est un outil de changement social. Les artistes redonnent vie à leurs espaces urbains et jouent le rôle de défricheurs, ils stimulent la vitalité d’un quartier. Souhaitons que le Chat des artistes soit une source d’espoir et un exemple de l’engagement d’une communauté à accorder aux créateurs une place où ils seront libres d’imaginer et de façonner beauté et émois.

_____________

The Artists’ Cat
The Ateliers Créatifs, a non-profit organization, have converted an old industrial building into studios offered for rent to artists, craft’s makers and cultural organisations. It has been named—in an ironic manner—in tribute to Jean-Pierre Ferland’s work “Le chat du café des artistes,” which tells the story of an artist who in an act of desperation offers his body as meat for a cat.

The opening presentation  at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts for the 2010 GAAC conference was given by the Maritime  artist Peter Powning, …he has lived and worked for the last 35 years in Markhamville, New Brunswick. So, what could better for a first ‘maritime’ article than an excerpt from his talk “Going Public”  unfortunately it will be minus most of the slides.

His opening talk was predominantly about Public commissions hence… “GOING PUBLIC” The following is a segment that I chose from the talk that I thought would be of interest to artists and GAAC members alike. “Lynne”

“I will show and discuss some of the public commissions I am involved with in the context of my mixed media practice. I’m particularly interested in the context of public art and the ways in which it engages the public. As well, I’m interested in the commissioning process and its effects on creative thinking.

I work principally in glass, clay and bronze. They all involve transformation by fire.

A good deal of the work I have been engaged in over the last few years deals with metaphor based on ideas concerning balance, fragmentation and transformation: of the body, heart, mind, spirit, nature, language & culture. The work is meant to have the feel of the artifact: an emotional artifact made solid, cultural artifacts for our times. I’ve also been making photographic images over the years and these have recently become an important element of my artistic production as well.

I’ve lived and worked for 35 years in Markhamville, New Brunswick in a high hill valley surrounded by boreal forest. My work and life are informed by a rural existence and my long connection with place. This may sound romantic, at times it feels that way, but mostly it just is the way things are, sometimes pleasant and easy but often enough challenging and difficult. What I’m attempting with my work is to produce objects that excite me and that connect with other people. It’s really as simple as that. I also like the thought of the work started here in my studio going out into the world.

Being an artist is a perilous and peculiar occupation that has many and varied rewards as well as many and varied insecurities and pitfalls. I live a ying yang existence with periods of secluded creation bamboozled by periodic public exposure when I venture beyond the hills of home to see if the work really works and hasn’t just become a delusory obsession.

Glass found it’s way into my work gradually during the 1980’s. I spent a winter in Providence RI where I had a studio next to Howard Ben Tre before he was well known. I helped him with some mold making and he has helped me over the years with my interest in glass.

I have always needed to address a market of some sort with most of what I produce. Public art is another market. Unlike most of what I’ve done, which has been sold to individuals, public art becomes part of the public commons. All artists enter a market place whether it’s a close circle of like-minded artists and academics, public museums, artist run spaces, or through galleries. Getting our work out there in some way is part of what being an artist is about. We communicate. We all need a “public”. With public art our “market” is determined by location and visibility and the ability of public art to connect, to create engagement. The transaction is supported by money one way or another but it’s not about money.

Why go big? Well first of all it’s a creative challenge, a technical and organizational challenge and I enjoy challenges. I also have to admit that it’s fun. I get to play. I think play is an essential ingredient in what we all do. Play is a serious element of creativity. Public art also allows me to move out of the gallery space and onto the street, park or public building site. The work has a public identity rather than a private one. It’s a less sheltered, more exposed place to be as an artist. The artist who makes public art becomes a public artist, and has to deal with the expectations, understanding of, and interpretation by what Annie Gerin in the book Public Art in Canada calls, “ … non-specialized publics outside the gallery space”       a polite way of saying your average bozo. I don’t say this meaning to denigrate your average bozo but to point out that we spend much of our professional lives sheltered from public opinions of the sort that come from people uninterested in art, even antagonistic to art in general, or who at least have had little conscious exposure to contemporary art

The public doesn’t get to choose what it is confronted with in terms of public art (or architecture or much else of the landscape, urban, town or country for that matter). In the case of art however, the question of value often comes up. An ugly light standard at least has the value of lighting something. A hideous condo building does house people however badly. The case for art is more difficult and not as readily apparent.

Citizens see the work whether they want to or not, and those offended by art in general, or the tax money spent on art or the content of the art can be bluntly expressive about what they think. It can be quite a jolt coming out of our comfortable circle of support to encounter opinions expressed in letters to the editor regarding our precious endeavors, especially as stated in the wild west of anonymous comments made in on-line blogs in reaction to media coverage of a public unveiling. That being said public dialogue is an important element attached to public art. It can take years for a public sculpture to settle into its environment and become a part of  “place”, a “local” rather than an intruder. Public art can form part of a community’s identity. I think it’s a hopeful pursuit, in the sense that with public art we are engaged in the notion that we can improve and evolve, that there can be positive change amidst all the negative and difficult complexities of life in the 21^st century. Making permanent, site specific objects one at a time, by hand says we think we’ll carry on, that it’s worth the effort.  It’s an act of direct unmediated public engagement.

Artistic and cultural value is a can of worms but in a sense value is predetermined by the very fact that public sculpture happens. Cultural forces have made a case for the inclusion of public art in construction budgets, and various levels of government, most notably municipal, have bought the argument. The idea of “creative cities” is in ascendency. Public art is perceived to have value as an indicator of enlightened policy and as an attractant to the sorts of people and activities that make a city a desirable place to live.

At least part of the value of public art is similar to the value of art and the individually made object in general. A public sculpture distinguishes its locale as being differentiated from the increasingly homogenized big box mass culture we swim in. It is site specific. Architecture and parks can help humanize where we live, public art goes further by not only making connections with people and place but by having something to say. It can become part of the connective cultural tissue of a specific place. Public art is a kind of cultural eruption or focal point. Even poorly conceived public art becomes a record of cultural decisions made, a reflection of the community from which it springs. Value accrues to public art over time.

In my case a public art commission starts with the personal and builds from my reaction to the site and proposal guidelines. It will have visual references as clues to meaning, it will involve the careful use of materials in ways meant to evoke response, it will be in a context that gives further meaning and it will gather associations as the process goes along. It might attempt to be bold, beautiful, serene, humorous, provocative or all of these things together: serenely, provocative perhaps. My work is intended to engage not instruct.

I respond to a site. By necessity I respond to the thematic requirements of the request for proposals and try to make those considerations work for me. Underlying the impulse to engage in public art making is the same basic creative urge that makes object-making an imperative in my life. It is a need to engage the world and understand the world through the production of objects inspired by creative observation. Seeing what is there to be seen, internalizing it, then physically manifesting a response. The process is a visual, tactile interpretation of experience that comes from that zone beyond word-thought, that deep well that word analysis can only skim the surface of. That holy place of creative imagining that analysis flattens. This is true whether the source of inspiration is an ancient artifact, a beautiful cup or a rock formation. I try to trust my instincts.

I often have to overcome an initial irritation with the thematic expectations set out in the request for proposals for public art competitions. It’s rare to be given a free hand. The sculpture has to satisfy a jury that it meets requirements. This can mean dealing with very specific historical facts, or something about the purpose of the building it is associated with, or a grab bag of art jargon fluff.

Public Sculpture can have many limitations and restrictions. It has to be virtually vandal proof, weather proof, building code compatible, engineered, liability proof, not invite invasion by or habitation by birds, beasts or the homeless, be skate board proof, cleanable if tagged with paint, and still be culturally viable, at least to the satisfaction of a jury of unknown composition.

In canvassing several artist friends who have at one point or another been involved in percentage for the arts programs it is clear that none of them find the process satisfactory. In fact as soon as an artist can ditch the process and find commissions that forgo the lottery aspects of trying to get sculpture commissions through percentage for the arts programs they move on. This is a problem. It leaves the field open to the less accomplished, the desperate, or the amateur with credentials, or artists who have a big enough practice that they have the cash flow to hire people to work on proposals allowing them not to be too distracted from their creative work by the time sink of making endless proposals. The only solution I can see to this is for municipalities that commission public art to have the courage to have some of the larger commissions done on the basis of a pre-determined short list rather then the easy out of calls for Expressions of Interest or Requests for Proposals. That would mean that mixed juries would at least be supporting active professionals without being distracted by large numbers of essentially poorly or unqualified applicants.

I’ve been researching the winning proposals for some of the percentage for the arts commissions lately and there are quite a few absolutely inexplicable choices being made. In following up on how the winners were selected made it is clear that the juries were dominated by people without arts backgrounds and I have to say it shows. So more varied approaches to commissioning public art are essential to continue to engage the most accomplished artists to participate in the process. There is a need for jury education through workshops and broad exposure to some of the great public art in the world. I hate to see large amounts of money being squandered on mediocre “safe” art. I have to admit though that the process doesn’t encourage me to risk making the bolder, wilder proposals that I might if I felt confident about the jury mix. The chance to work on large public commissions still drives me to engage in the process though with considerable more selectivity than in the past.

PAR LAURA SASSEVILLE

Partie 1 de 4

Le 29 mai 2010, Montréal, VERRE COUTURE, le défilé et la fête de clôture du congrès du GAAC : un franc succès. Tous étaient ravis de ce qu’ils ont vu sur le cat walk.  Nous sommes heureux que l’idée de Laura Donefer se soit concrétisée à la hauteur de ses attentes. Wow !!!! Quel show !!!

Quelques semaines plus tard, je reçois un courriel me demandant, si je voulais, écrire un article sur le défiler.

Pour être honnête, l’écriture de cet article sur le défilé, vu de l’intérieur, me semblait moins palpitante.

Par contre, en revisitant mon expérience à la participation et à l’aide à l’organisation de l’évènement,  le métissage de 2 mondes : fluidité et libre mouvement du vêtement opposé au verre fragile et fixe. Je me suis questionné sur l’avenir du verre : est-ce le cadre défini par les conseils des métiers d’art, les centres de formation et les Universités Canadiens est à l’aube d’être redéfini?

Depuis l’introduction du verre en Amérique, le verre à une orientation étroitement lié avec l’objet utilitaire, l’œuvre d’art et l’intégration à l’architecture. Pourtant, le verre m’apparaît en pleine expansion au-delà du simple objet ou sculpture avec une identité locale.

Nos dernières décennies sont teintées par la mondialisation, l’immigration, les échanges culturels et l’utilisation de nouvelle technologie. Ils ont influencé le marché mondial par l’accessibilité du même bien de consommation partout dans le monde. Par exemple, IKEA et le cybermarché (ESTY, EBAY…), pour en nommer quelques un. Ainsi qu’un malaisien peut avoir la même lampe IKEA numéro style Alang qu’un québécois.

Maintenant, notre consommation et la fabrication de nos biens ne sont plus exclusivement locales. Le design n’est plus défini que par nos grands espaces verts.

Certains s’exclameront que nous perdons notre identité; à mes yeux, ceci enrichit nos sociétés culturellement par cette ouverture vers le monde. Par contre, l’important c’est de s’approprier de ces avantages et de travailler à garder la production locale.

De façon analogue, nous ne cuisinons plus que les ragoûts de pattes de cochons ou le rôti de bœuf le dimanche. Les produits qui paraissaient exotiques à grand-maman sont un incontournable sur notre liste d’épicerie. Même les instruments et plats de cuisson, comme le tagine, les baguettes et le wok font parti de notre quotidien autant que le plat en fonte.

Alors, je me demande:

Si la création est le reflet de nos sociétés, alors chaque artiste et designer expriment avec leur vision, un fragment de cette nouvelle réalité?

C’est peut-être pourquoi nous constatons de plus en plus le métissage des genres et ça dans toutes les sphères de création : musique, mode, design, architecture et métiers d’art.

Vous vous dites peut-être que le métissage à toujours exister, à mon humble avis, jamais autant constater aujourd’hui, clairement nous sommes dans la poste modernité à la puissance 10.

À mon tour, je vous pause la question : Les nouvelles générations de créateurs qui ont grandi avec une plus grande ouverture et accessibilité sur le monde, démontrent-t-ils plus de faciliter à construire un vocabulaire visuel qui mélange design, styles, cultures, matériaux et technologies? Dans la prochaine année, à l’aide d’article, d’interview et de rencontre, j’essayerai de répondre à la question…à suivre….

BY LAURA SASSEVILLE

Part 1 of 4

On May 29, 2010, in Montreal the VERRE COUTURE’s Glass Fashion Show and the closing party of the Glass Art Association of Canada (GAAC) was a great success! Everyone was amazed by what they saw on the cat walk.

We were happy that Laura Donefer’s idea became a reality. Wow!!! What a show!!!

A few weeks after the show, I got an email asking me if I wanted to write an article on the subject of the Glass Fashion Show.  To be honest, viewed from the inside, writing an article on the VERRE COUTURE sounded to me to be less thrilling.  However, after revisiting my experience of participating and helping organize the event, I asked myself a lot of questions regarding the mix between the two worlds which are the flow and the free movement of clothing opposed to the fragility and stiffness of glass. I questioned myself about the future of glass; is the framework defined by the Conseil des métiers d’art of Québec and the Canadian universities on the verge of being redefined?

Since the introduction of glass to North America, the limited orientation of glass has been related to glassware, art work and the integration of glass art work into architecture. Nevertheless, glass objects and sculptures appear to me to be in full expansion with a local identity.

Our last few decades have been tainted by globalization, immigration, cultural exchange and use of new technologies. These influence the overall market by making the same consumer goods available world wide. For example, you have IKEA and cyber shopping (ESTY, EBAY, just to name a few). A Malaysian can buy an IKEA lamp with the same model number and style as a person from Quebec.

Today our consumer goods are no longer exclusively manufactured locally. Designs are no longer defined by our great outdoors. Some will claim that we are losing our identity.  However, for my part, I believe this will enrich our society culturally by opening our minds to the world. Nonetheless, it’s important to capture the advantages of the new world but to keep the production local.

Traditionally, we no longer cook pig’s feet stew or roast beef on Sundays. The products that once seemed exotic to grandma are now a must in our groceries list.  Even the hardware in our kitchens, such as tagine, chop sticks and woks, have all become as much a part of our mundane cooking as the old frying pan.

So, I’m asking myself, “If creation is the reflection of our society, then can every artiste and designer express themselves with their vision, a fragment of a new reality?”  This is perhaps the reason we are observing more and more intermingling between different types, styles and every sphere of creation: music, fashion, design, architecture, fine arts and arts and crafts. You may say that this intermingling has always existed but, in my humble opinion, today we see it a lot more.  We are in the post modern era to the 10th power.

It’s my turn to ask you a question.  Do the new generation of designers and artistes who have grown up with greater openness and accessibility to the world demonstrate a greater ease in building a visual vocabulary that mixes design styles, cultures, materials and technologies?  In the next year, through articles, interviews and reports, I will try to answer that question.  To be continued!

By Ben Goodman

I think I’ve received a critique of one of my recent sculpture installations. I had selected a large, undulating grassy area for this 3-piece sculpture and was busily setting the work in place. Some movement behind caught my attention. When I turned to look, I was staring into the eyes of several sheep just six feet away, busily munching and observing an “artist at work!” This is one of the joys of engaging with the landscape as canvas. The unexpected – be it weather, variations in the land, or animals as critics! Several months after this installation and the sculpture is still in place. The sheep must be satisfied with my work or, at least do not consider it an intrusion.  This may stack up as one of my more favourable critiques.

Most sculptors yearn for a large space in which to place their work, and to be able to minimize the amount of visual “noise” surrounding it. “Don’t Fence Me In”, the title of a song from the 1930’s, is the lament often heard from sculptors. Interior space, whether in galleries or private homes, is often at a premium for placing sculpture. Three-dimensional work needs room to breathe. Outdoor installations meet this need admirably. Using the landscape as a “canvas” for sculpture installations provides a unique creative opportunity for artists by removing the confines of interior space and opening up a refreshing new freedom of expression, both in creative style and scale. Land sites provide diversity of setting – flat or undulating, open or forested, waterfront or hilltop and often with views of distant hills and the ocean. This landscape setting adds measurably to the enjoyment of the work by the viewer.

Several artists on Saltspring Island have commented on their own recent experience with outdoor art installations:

Margaret Day, gallery owner

“Since gardens and design play such an important part in so many peoples’ lives,  outdoor sculpture is an area of art collection that ought to be more fully explored. In the strongest pieces the artists react to the environment. Nature itself  becomes a component. The result is a three-way dialogue among artist, nature, and the viewer.”

Morley Myers, sculptor

“Sculpture takes on a new context when placed in an outdoor setting. It acquires an unexpected strength and can be very harmonious with nature. For the viewer, outdoor installations provide the opportunity to experience art without the perceived pretensions often experienced in a traditional gallery setting. So both the artist and the viewer gain an enhanced quality of experience.”

Ron Crawford, sculptor and painter

“For the artist, this experience (outdoor installations) connects us to a place, time, season – even a particular tree. A walk through a sculpture garden becomes an opportunity for surprise and contemplation”.

There are well over one hundred sculptures installed out-of-doors on Saltspring Island including the forty sculptures installed at Hastings House Country House Hotel in 2009, sites at other publicly accessible venues and sculpture placed in private gardens. While premature to call this recent interest in outdoor sculpture installations a movement or trend, there is clear evidence of a possible future direction. A refrain from the lyrics of Don’t Fence Me In – “Oh give me land, lots of land….”  has been heard and responded to – at least in part!

Ben Goodman lives on Saltspring Island. He is a graduate of the Ontario College of Art, past president of the Glass Art Association of Canada and past editor of the Glass Gazette (now the Contemporary Canadian Glass journal). His views on “landscape as canvas” have been influenced by his equestrian travels around the world. His work can be seen at www.bengoodman.ca