Contemporary Canadian Glass

By Larissa Blokhuis

At the beginning of the summer, I went to Pilchuck, where I took a class with a guy named John Miller.  I’d never heard of any of the teachers, so I just put my name down for the advanced or sculptural glassblowing classes and got him.  He is a proponent of the ‘go big or go home’ style of glass, and makes giant cheeseburgers, keychains, goblets, cigarettes, and other items of that nature.  He’s very into Americana and I don’t think he makes giant cheeseburgers with any kind of irony at all.  I think he just likes cheeseburgers.  He also likes curios and junk shops.  On the first night, he took us all in the back of his black, windowless, seatless van to buy us oyster shooters, deep fried oysters, and pitchers of beer as well as one or two girly drinks for me.  Everybody was made to feel welcome immediately, and simultaneously put into the art-making process/environment.

Life at Pilchuck

There were three meals signalled by a bell and served as a buffet.  Most of the food was magical, and I gained ten pounds in the three weeks I was there.  When I left Pilchuck and went back to my regular diet I was hungry all the time and had trouble re-adjusting. 

There is one hotshop but two classes, and I was in the later class.  The early class started at 8am and went until 1pm, followed by a demo from 3:30pm until 6pm.  Dinner was after that followed by slides presented by the teachers and TAs, and then glassblowing continued from 8pm to 1am.  The campus is set on a hill, so the dorms are at the top and the studios are at the bottom (I think partially to discourage people from hanging out in the dorms).  After glassblowing, I would go up the hill and shower, get back down by 1:45am, and people would stay up and drink until 5. 

Technical Drawing by Boyd Sugiki, Pilchuck Teacher, The morning class demos were full of very specific, technical instruction, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhuis

The dorms were always loud because the doors swing and slam shut if you aren’t holding them open or if you don’t pull them closed.  I eventually started taking naps from 12 – 1pm when it became apparent that John didn’t ever keep to the schedule he set for us.  I definitely didn’t like hiking up that hill every day, but the nap was necessary.  There was bacon at breakfast most mornings but because of the crazy schedule I had to give up on the dream of eating bacon every day and stay in bed for some much-needed sleep.

Some People I Learned From

I shared a room with a Japanese girl named Ayako (AY-a-ko).  She was the best glassblower in the class and had the same amazing work ethic Japanese artists always seem to have.  For one of our class meetings, we showed slides or pictures of our work, and her work was definitely the most developed and intricate.  Her portfolio included many different methods of working with glass.  She was still a student and had six years of experience.  I think she is the student I learned the most from, in terms of considering each move and proceeding with patience while working on the glass.  Watching her in the hotshop, I observed a steady dedication to refining the smallest of details.  In some of the less experienced students, I saw a bit of panic or rush to fix any mistakes, but with her I saw a calm and paced reaction that often resulted in fewer steps to fixing a problem. 

Murrini-Style Candy, Ayako brought this candy from Japan to share with the class, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhius

There were many visiting artists and road trips to various studios, including one to Olympic Color Rods.  I bought the last hand tool I wanted, so my set is now “complete.”  I have, of course, realised that there are more tools I need (copper pipe is next).

Hand Tool, Hand shield for protection during hot-glass engraving. If you can’t find the tool you need, make it!, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhuis

It was good to see the different shops and artists to get some variety.  Among the demos was Randy Walker’s giant peapod.  A piece so large with many parts can seem daunting, but watching the demo I realised it only takes planning and patience.  Einar de la Torre made a Mexican death mask.  The colour application included laying out a pattern in powder and rolling it up.  I hadn’t seen that before, and it was quite effective for a quick pattern.

 

Pattern Pickup 1, Einar de la Torre makes his pattern in powder, Photo Credit: Larissa BlokhuisPattern Pickup 2, The resulting pattern, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhuis

Rik Allan’s hotshop is the most beautiful.  The door on his completely silent electrical furnace swings outward like butter on a sculptural metal hinge, and his pickup annealer opens at the bottom so the heat doesn’t escape out the top of the door.  I recommend looking his work up if you haven’t seen it.

 

Rik Allen’s Furnace, Rik Allan has applied the same attention to the design of his furnace as he does to his glass art, Photo Credit: Larissa BlokhuisRik Allen’s Pickup Annealer, A great way to save heat, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhuis

The Glassblowing

I went big at Pilchuck.  Changing scale helped me see flaws in my technique that were hidden when making smaller objects.  I made some pieces with many hollow bits, and because I was receiving so many bits, the TAs would often help me in addition to the student I was working with that night.  It was great to start my piece and then have 2 – 4 other people swoop in and start making bits.  I took 16 – 25 hollow bits on these pieces, and with about 4 people they took 20 minutes.  The bits were new each time because I didn’t like the cut look from the diamond shears.  They would take more than an hour with only one assistant.

The experience in the Pilchuck hotshop can be whimsical at times, when you take a moment to step back and watch how the TAs and teacher swoop in just when they are needed to save a piece or make something new happen.  At times it can be trying when your decisions as a gaffer are limited by a less experienced blowing partner.  Even more trying are the times when you realise that you are limited by your own lack of experience as a gaffer.  But in the Pilchuck environment, you’re encouraged to go beyond what you think your limits are.  With the efforts of the TAs and teacher you really can extend beyond your comfort zone and know that your piece will be ok.  Or you’ll make it again the next day.  When you do, the people helping you will have new suggestions for fabrication possibilities.

Groupwork at Pilchuck, Take advantage of the many helping hands at Pilchuck. Go big!, Photo Credit: Larissa Blokhuis

My Experience

Most artists who go to a post-secondary school to study art will experience the post-secondary hangover.  I know many grads (myself included) that went through a period of making no art at all after graduation, and it can be difficult to overcome the loss of momentum.  The year after I graduated, I was lucky to get a job in a glass studio/gallery that afforded me the opportunity to blow glass again.  But most days when I was blowing glass, I felt more frustrated than lucky.  After about a year of frustration I figured out that an assistant was a necessity, which helped considerably, but I was still stuck as an artist.  Most of my projects were just miniature versions of ideas I’d had in art school, and I had only two completely new projects for three years of post-grad life.  At Pilchuck, I did four new projects in three weeks, and at this time (3.5 months after leaving), I have started three new projects.

I didn’t particularly learn any new techniques at Pilchuck, but the experience reminded me that I should make things I want to make.  I had unintentionally meandered into the realm of production, which is stale but lucrative at best.  At worst, it’s just stale.  I have had a busy summer generally growing my career, so the full effects of my Pilchuck experience are not clear to me yet.  I feel my direction as an artist changing, and I’m not sure where it will take me.  The feeling that I could make anything or pursue new ideas is exactly what’s interesting about being an artist, and I’m glad to have it back.