The Joy of Coldworking (book)
June 27, 2009
The Joy of Coldworking
A guide to grinding, smoothing and polishing blown and fused glass
Johnathan Schmuck
$49.95
Available through warmglass.com or the Bullseye Resource Center (although as of 6/27/09 it wasn’t listed in their online store)
No, the book’s title is not an oxymoron, at least not for author Johnathan Schmuck. The dude actually likes to grind and polish glass, and since his writing gives no sign of mental deficiencies I must conclude he knows what he’s talking about.
Winding down a week of glass (BEcon 2009)
June 25, 2009
Draaaagged awake Sunday morning, post BEcon and Saturday night’s Lehr-B-Q. OGG had a pre-daddy’s day demo this morning and if the instructor had been anyone but the famous Marty Kremer (or maybe Keith Richards) I’d have stayed in bed. I was tired.
Fortunately, it was Marty, who’s a pretty bright guy as well as a consummate glassist, so I enjoyed myself immensely. Anybody who skipped that class missed out bigtime; at the end Marty held a drawing for his demo pieces, and several students got very lucky indeed. We ended up at Campbell’s BBQ for nearly three hours of ribs and conversation that ranged from the Israeli glass scene to annealing cycles.
It was the perfect end to a very glassy week.
BEcon, finis
June 21, 2009
Apparently, I am 32, 6 foot 10, built like Morgan Le Fay (or maybe Wonder Woman) with waist-length coal-black hair and a princess conehead hat thingee. (think Frazzeta’s women) I walk around with a computer on my head and a chunk of glass in one hand while the other hand does tiny Queen-like wavelets to the populace. Or so folks meeting me at BEcon thought before the cold light of reality struck. (i.e., they met me)
They got the computer and the glass right, anyway.
This BEcon (i.e., Bullseye glass conference) was a showstopper in many ways, but the best part, as usual, wound up being the people I met and remet.There was as much sharing outside the conference as in, and I met a lot of generous people who were more than happy to clue me in on casting stuff I needed to know. [Read more]
BEcon, second day
June 20, 2009
OK, there's a sculpture in here some place. (Taken on the PSU campus)
You measure the quality of a conference by deltas. That’s delta as in change, not large-muddy-lump-guarding-the-Mississippi. The delta between your pre- and post-conference who/what/which/how knowledge should be at least as great as the trouble and expense you’ve invested in going.
As far as I’m concerned, BEcon’s day two deltas pretty much paid for the trip. (And you can also read about the first day)
BEcon, Day 0.5
June 19, 2009
Artlovers’ tip: When attending a busy Bullseye Gallery reception and all those warm bodies raise the temperature to sweatworthiness, visit the work in the front window. That’s where the best air conditioner vent is positioned and, since the art in the window is generally a showstopper, you can enjoy both a warm contemplation and a cool breeze.
Just don’t expect to be there alone; an amazing number of the throngs attending the BEcon opening reception tonight seemed to know that trick. I met quite a few of them already hogging my spot.
All in a days work for Bullseye’s BEcon, this year a conference on glass casting. This first day was, by turns, heartwarming, fun, fascinating, annoying and humorous, with a touch of old home week thrown in for good measure. I pretty much enjoyed myself from start to finish, met a whole bunch of faces to put to lovely names and personalities I already knew, and found some excellent grub.
More art, more philosophy and a LOT more tech tomorrow–today was mostly about hooking up, with a few highlights. (But you can find day two here)
Art & philosophy
We started with a gorgeous slideshow of attendees’ work, played in the background during the introductory speech. It was an impressive (and humbling) survey of casting possibilities. I got a kick out of hearing BE prez Dan Schwoerer detail the inherent problems in making a casting glass.
Saleshead Jim Jones probably took the discussable humor prize for telling what happens when perfect planning goes astray, although I laughed loudest at Clifford Rainey’s depiction of the left-leaning members of an SF arts committee.
“I avoid the studio movement as much as I can. I do not like to be called a glass artist, I am an artist who works in glass. The glass movement is sometimes its own worst enemy.”
–Clifford Rainey
I was afraid that Richard Whiteley’s “Behind the Actor’s Studio”-style interview with Clifford Rainey wouldn’t be much more than an awkward artist’s retrospective. I was wrong–it relaxed into a thoroughly enjoyable gabfest, with between-the-lines tech tips and a great chance to view a body of work. I’ve not always been a fan of Mr. Rainey’s work, but some of what I saw (and heard) was definitely worth a mind-change, even if he hadn’t been such a delightful speaker.
Tech highlights
The conference tech display isn’t huge this year but the important folks (for me) were there. I skimmed the BE books and squinted at the really cool billet display (I didn’t realize the BE casting palette had that many greens).
I talked refractory kilnshelves with Western Industrial and speculated on the carvability of a new refractory board they’re promoting (I’m thinking I could make one ginormous color sample mold and possibly play around with some negative sculpting…). Played with Dyson’s hollow extruded kilnshelves for awhile, monopolized Bob Stephan of HIS Glassworks for a half hour or so over my favorite diamond bits for coldworking.
Keynote
They say a successful keynote is one that provokes discussion, and by that measure the conference keynote was successful. Speaker Janet Koplos is a former editor of Art Review, currently interim editor at American Craft, and known for less-than-flattering assessments of “glass artists.”
I once saw Steve Jobs start a military conference keynote by explaining that he didn’t really mean it when he said that Apple would never sell to military “babykillers.” Ms. Koplos tapdanced just as nervously, but to a plantation drumbeat. She explained that glass was the highest-paid “craft medium,” that she was hugely a fan of decorative arts (I’d imagine some of her best friends are glass, in fact) and that “the crafts have a noble history of human service.”
Gist of the speech seemed to be that, with only a few transcendental exceptions, glass would never be art, and anybody working in glass should be satisfied to sit at the back of the bus. And then, after carefully establishing glass as not-art, she proceeded to review it…as art. If it looked too realistic or too abstract, if she had to wonder about how it was made, if it was transparent or shiny or colorful, if it was not obvious or too obvious, or possibly if it had been created on a Tuesday by a one-armed man with a monkey on his head, it didn’t make her list.
To be fair, I don’t disagree with everything she said. Craft shouldn’t have to be considered art to have value, and there’s nothing wrong with a good bowl that’s also beautiful. And, IMHO, too many artists let the glass do the talking and call it their art. Yet we aren’t in a country where craft is just as honored as art, and telling a group they’ll never make art in this “craft medium” is tantamount to artistic apartheid. I do, however, give the lady credit for showing up with such a message.
Food
Found a new favorite, Paccini’s, and ate a wonderful hoagie (a real hogie) stuffed with Italian coldcuts. Unless you feel like rolling out of the place, order a half sandwich. Nice view, quiet seats and good food, reasonably priced. Can’t ask for much more than that.
I can ask for more at BlueHour, and I usually get it. In this case, we asked for savings, and BlueHour’s happy hour obliged. Bar food is half-price…and their bar food includes some great salads and pizzas, a wonderful hamburger, cheese fondue and the first deep-fried olives I’ve ever eaten. My only complaint was the noise level (not surprising in a hard-surfaced restaurant).
All in all, this was a glorious day.
PS. If you want to read the whole BEcon report, here are the links:
- BEcon, Day 0.5 (this post)
- BEcon, second day
- BEcon, finis
- Winding down a week of glass
The show’s up…
March 26, 2009
…and now I’m fighting fifth hour panic, that moment when you realize that you have a long, long way to go but it’s too late to grab your pitiful little bits and go home.
I got my work to Guardino Gallery yesterday, stuck around to help hang/haul/lug/place the rest of the show, stick placards where things go and just generally make myself useful. (I wrote about it yesterday) I also got a heaping helping of inferiority complex: The stuff in this show is GOOD. [Read more]
The perception of art
March 4, 2009
Headed down to the Bullseye Gallery reception tonight and saw one of the most diverse shows of glass I’ve seen in a long time, some really cool stuff. It also tickled my artbone, at least when it comes to the way different people perceive the same piece of art.
I heard at least five different perceptions of the showstopper, this work by Michael Rogers:
I’ll start with my own: In Provence, the family on the next farm over heard that I’d never eaten pigeon Provencal style, insisted it was delicious (of course, even bats’ intestines are delicious Provencal style) and invited me for a Saturday night pigeon feast.
I stopped in the day before and saw next night’s dinner strung up on the wall like the Bosch version of pigeon hell. They were, it was explained, being hung and bled to prepare them for cooking. There’s even a local word for it, translates into “bleeding wall,” or some such. It made quite an impression; I wound up writing a short story about it.
So tonight, I walked in, saw the Rogers installation and immediately said, “Ahhh, a bleeding wall.” I was instantly in France, wrapped in context, and intrigued by the whole notion of preparing a “trash” bird, i.e., a crow, for the table in such a French manner. And why were these birds bound? My imagination headed past the horizon and up to the moon as I considered the implications…
…only to be gently corrected a few moments later. Lani, the gallery director, explained that the artist was taking a page from a Japanese custom of binding a dead crow and hanging it in the garden to warn off other crows. (Yeah, I guess if I saw a dead guy wrapped in beeswax and hung in front of the grocery store, I’d stay away, too.)
Where I saw somewhat grisly prelude to a delicious meal, Lani saw healing guardians.
Hmmmmm. Grabbed a guy at random, asked him what he thought. “It’s like one of those Edward Gorey cartoons,” he said, “Really makes you think but I think you’re supposed to be creeped out.”
A lady about 15 minutes later said much the same thing, except in her opinion it was intended to remind us of our mortality and that, in the end of modern life, we’re all going to end up in neat, soulless rows in a cemetary, just like those birds.
About that point my cousin Robyn, who’s sort of a supercop, wandered down to the display. “Dead birds tied up and strung on barbed wire? That’s sick.”
Then she asked where I wanted to go for dinner and, for some reason, I picked a French restaurant. 
So if the real definition of art is something that provokes thought and emotion, I’d say this qualifies. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. Definitely.
Glasslanders who AIN’T cool…
February 25, 2009
…missed a terrific Oregon Glass Guild meeting tonight with veteran glassist Roger Thomas. The guy gives great slideshow and incidentally makes pretty gorgeous glass. The presentation he gave pretty much amounted to a history of glass panel work in the US for the last 30-40 years.
See what you miss if you’re not going to OGG meetings regularly? The Guild is growing and getting more interesting all the time. It’s probably the best time a glassist can have for $2.92.*
And next month promises more of the same: Glass lathe virtuoso Andy Paiko–the guy who was on TV not too long ago–will be strutting his working glass spinning wheel, seismograph, chairs and other cool stuff for OGG. The meeting will be held at the Museum of Contemporary Craft in downtown Portland, doubling your opportunity to see neat craft.
What?!? You aren’t a member? What are you waiting for? Fill out this form, write OGG a check for thirty-five bucks and send it in!!
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*Guild membership dues are $35 per year so that would make this $2.92 per great meeting…assuming you don’t count all the other events and stuff
Smooth-on Trowelable Plasti-Paste
February 23, 2009
There are times when a mother can be a real pain in the neck (and no, I’m not talking about you, Mom).
I’m talking mother as in “mother mold,” the hard shell that supports the flexible silicone or rubber mold you’ve made of your model when casting glass. (Yeah, yeah, I know that in SOME places the mother mold refers to the entire mold structure, but here in the Northwest I’ve been corrected so much I’m giving in and just referring to the rigid support shell.)
Without a mother, your lovely silicone mold collapses into utter flaccidity. That’s great if you want to manipulate your silicone into different shapes (and you don’t mind burning your fingers with hot wax). But if you’re reproducing a model exactly you want the daggone silicone to stay put.
Macklowe Gallery
February 17, 2009
A piece by Amalric Walter, the pate de verre artist who probably most closely matches modern pate de verre styles. Notice the gorgeous translucency? (courtesy of the Macklowe Gallery)
So if you’re thinking of buying your sweetie a nice piece of glass for Valentine’s Day, or you’re looking for a little pate de verre education/inspiration from the original masters, check out the Macklowe Gallery on Madison Avenue in Manhattan.
And note to anybody who IS thinking of buying Art Nouveau-period pate de verre for somebody besides me today…what the heck are you doing with HER/HIM? You and I need to talk.
Modern French pate de verre technique was developed by a series of artists during the Art Nouveau period, starting with Henri Cros, an engineer, watercolorist and sculptor. He sought to recreate ancient glassmaking techniques and thus cement France’s lead in the decorative arts, and he very much succeeded.
Cros’ work was straight from the mold, with little coldworking, but it inspired at least a dozen very talented artists to develop more refined techniques. Some of the really great glasswork done in the Art Nouveau period, from people like Dammouse, Argy-Rousseau, Lalique and my favorite, Victor Amalric Walter, were a direct result of Cros’ first experiments. And what they did pretty much fed most of the great PdV coming from today’s artists. (”Including,” she said modestly, “me.”)
The Macklowe deals primarily in Art Nouveau and has a nice, accessible collection of pate de verre from that period. It’s not as spectacular as the stuff you can see in museums (or private collections that I’ve been lucky enough to view), but it’s a good cross-section of that period and well worth seeing.
If you visit the gallery you can sometimes talk the very suave attendant into letting you examine a few pieces more closely, i.e., pick them up, by modestly proclaiming your own expertise and interest in PdV. The guard will edge closer as you do this, and the attendant will panic as you hold the piece up to the light over the floor which really should have a THICK carpet to prevent people from having heart attacks all over the place. (Ask me how I know this)
The other place to see really great pate de verre, by the way, is the Corning Museum. CMOG focuses on just about anything BUT pate de verre, so you have to work at finding it and I can guarantee you won’t get to touch it, but the stuff they have is lovely. And heck, the whole daggone museum (and town) is a monument to glass in all its forms so any glassist worth his salt should already have been there half a dozen times anyway.
Unfortunately, the CMOG website has what’s just about the crummiest search I’ve seen in awhile. Do a global search for pate de verre and you’ll come up with exactly zip, and even the collections search comes up with a grand total of seven pieces. I’ve counted more than that in one CMOG display case. Of course, what DOES come up is exquisite–there’s a Cros bas-relief in there that’s inspired most of my current work.
Still, the Macklowe site doesn’t make you work so hard. Give it a look. (And note to Mr. Suave at the Macklowe: As soon as I rob a bank I’ll be back, this time to buy.)