Glass - almost magic

Using the wet wooden block to shape the layer with the second addition of colored glass.

Working on the neck of paperweight.

Focus

JD shaping a piece with a wooden block with the assistance of SB.

KB opens the lip of a cup while SB paddles the lip to keep it level (as he helps spin the pipe a little).

....Never from herald's breath    In brazen horn, Telling of strife and death    Or of peace new-born; From silver clarinet    By fingers small To lips of ruby set    In raftered hall; From jilted shepherd's reed    Plaintively proving How he in very deed    Must die of loving– Never from all these came    A music sweeter Than this bright sphere of flame With neither sound nor name,    Cadence nor metre, That steadily, as he blows    On his iron flute, Trembles and swells and glows, Gold-amber, amber-rose,    In melody mute. ~ From The Glass Blower by "Jan Struther" (Joyce Anstruther/Maxtone Graham/Joyce Placzek, 1901-1953) Copyright, The Estate of Jan Struther, 1940

I ran into an artist friend at a concert a few weeks ago. "We are going to teach a glass blowing class this summer. I thought you might be interested," said he.

This friend directs the art department at a local college.* We have discussed different community classes that colleges are providing these days as costs continue to rise and enrollment begins to drop. I confess I have been suggesting a summer clay class...almost every time I see him. And, while this was not clay,** it would be something new - a challenge.

[I have had some issues with fire. I burned my left hand in a space heater when I was 2 or 3.*** There was a brush fire in the neighborhood when I was about 12 that we don't talk about much. I burned my face with a marshmallow when I was at scout camp (sounds funny now, but the left side of my face was seriously blistered). There are more stories, but these illustrate the reason(s) for my hesitation to be working with molten glass and furnaces.****]

I signed up.

The first day I learned to blow a bubble and came home with a small bit of my breath encased in clear glass. "Here." I offered it to DH. "This is my last breath."

That first day we learned about the process and the tools. Each devilishly hot thing has a particular use.

FURNACES:

Three furnaces are fed and emptied as the week goes by. One furnace holds a crucible of clear glass. While some can open, gather, and close the door to the furnace by themselves, we learn to hold the door open when our partner give the signal they are ready. Our partner spins the blow pipe (if blowing glass) or punty (if making something where no blown air is required) in the hot glass gathering the right amount and exiting as the furnace door closes.

Yes, the furnace is hot...very hot.

The second furnace is called the glory hole. One reheats glass or melts color into a work in this furnace. It stands with its glowing eye open. Successive doors allow for larger and larger pieces to enter or exit. Glass must be worked at the appropriate temperature. It is a subtle art.

Why the hula girl? I do not know. Whimsy?

A cup in the final stages of shaping returns for heating.

The third furnace is the annealer. It allows the completed pieces to slowly cool to prevent thermal shock and a fractured work. [It is just a box really. You can see it just to the other side of the glory hole furnace.]

TOOLS:

Some appear to be instruments of torture, but in the right hands they guide the glass: Edges to shape and cut and twist and pull. Paper and wooden blocks for shaping. Water to cool. Wax to decrease friction on the glass. Gloves to catch and carry works to the annealer.

Blowpipes and punties are heated before used to gather the molten glass.

A number of sizes of jacks are used to narrow necks and shape pieces and cool glass.

Shears and tweezers.

Paper used to shape pieces burns in a beautiful pattern.

Teamwork. JD, the gaffer, sits at the bench and spins the blowpipe. She has tweezers in her right hand. They are used (among other things) to carry water to drop carefully at the neck of the piece allowing it to fracture when the pipe is struck.One instructor uses the jacks to narrow and cool the neck while another prepares to catch the work when it is separated from the end of the blowpipe. It is a dance.

The second day I made a clear glass cup. It was a quick project and gave me time to try another work. I decided to try a paperweight. I learned how to twist and swirl the colorful inside layer, gather more clear glass,  melt on tiny bits of black glass, and add a final gather of clear glass.

The instructors assisted with each stage - helping the neophyte blow a bubble, add the colors,  spin the glass, gather more fluid yellow/orange/red-hot glass, reheat when necessary, shape the creation and, finally, remove it from the metal rod - all without putting a hand down where it should not be. The instructors were relaxed and professional, efficient and crazy/mad/brilliant artists.***** They explained and collaborated. They were able to salvage a bubble or blob of glass gone awry. They coached and, I repeat,  prevented placement of hand on hot pipe or hot glass.

SB and HS reheating. Unfortunately I found I had no photos of the loyal and helpful volunteer, ND. She works behind the scenes - bringing water, switching out and organizing tools, cleaning up blobs and shards and wisps of glass, and so much more! All three of these folks make amazing glass creations.

My first paperweight:

The intended view.

The side view. OC has a number of paperweights and I thought she might appreciate this, my first attempt.

During the third class a made a blue cup. It is a perfect size for a whiskey.

OK. OK. I love blue...get ready for more.

Top view.

 

At the end of the first week (three classes) I concluded that I was glad to have tried glass, but probably wouldn't take another class. Ambivalent. Is that the word?

But then, during the next three classes, I decided to make more paperweights. I needed no cups or goblets or bowls, but there is always  room for a paperweight:

Three types of blue glass "dust" smokes through the clear glass.

And yesterday brought:

Blue and white and bubbles

[You will have to wait for the last paperweight. It is still in the annealing oven.]

7-10-15

OK. Here is the last one. It has some beautiful "moments." I love the red and purple swirls and the big bubble.

 

By the end of the course it was clear. I was in. I would be back next summer.



NOTES:
  
OK. There's supposed to be a video of KB wrapping a cup with a ribbon of black glass right here. I am having technical difficulty. I will add it to this post when I figure out the process. Bummer.

*The University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. This college has some wonderful fine arts (and science) programs for young people during the summer. And I recommend the glass blowing class.

**I did have a long discussion with one of the students who focuses on pottery. While we were looking at her work, the pottery professor arrived and gave me a tour of the studio. We talked equipment, clay and kilns. He showed me his work and we discussed summer internships and fall classes. I requested and received permission to visit their fall classes and volunteered (in advance) to stoke the wood-fired kiln (they don't have one yet, but will - I have confidence!) and to provide sustenance for the workers.

***My sister and I were playing "king of the suitcase."  It wasn't as dangerous as the time she told me to bite into an oleander branch. Maybe.

****I burn myself cooking all the time, but that doesn't stop me from baking banana bread and chocolate cake. I have hit the hot engine on the lawnmower more than once, but I still mow. So...

*****I have known one instructor peripherally since I was a teenager. He grew up 30 miles from my hometown and played in a duo that performed at area churches.  But then his children and mine went to school together here. We share this town and a connection to the arts community. And we have "run into" them at parades and art shows, concerts and school events for years. Our oldest children even "ran into" each other at a gated apartment complex in LA when he was there to cut a record and she was interning for a semester. The other instructor is "family" to some of our good friends from the neighborhood. We are all connected. It hardly needs saying.

An assortment of works (some from the summer course, some from the college course) just sitting around on tables: 

JD has been working on jellyfish creations. This is her jellyfish paperweight.

Another view of the jellyfish.

Bowls, flowers, cups paperweights and maybe a shaman or two.

One of the jellyfish "bells"

JD holds a jellyfish under construction.

More works awaiting photography.

A new first...

We headed out to the countryside this afternoon. We had been invited to a "first" and we needed to be there. We turned down one country road after another until we saw the two towered church rising before us.

Upon entering this church - built in 1894 - one is immediately drawn to the bright stained glass and statuary. We knew no one and so simply looked for empty seats, finding them midway up the main aisle. We were early, but the church was already filling up.

This Catholic church is located in a small farming community surrounded by other farming communities. The area was settled by Germans and Czech families.* They broke the ground and built their lives here. Together they built churches and schools. People of faith, they have raised 13 priests and 35 sisters. Some of them returned for this celebration.

The noise of people entering and greeting each other ceased as the choir began to sing and priest after priest walked towards the altar. Finally we saw the youngest priest, newly ordained, son of the land,** son of the community, and my friend approach the altar. Dressed in his green vestments he began to sing the mass, his first.

At the reception that followed I helped to fill the tea glasses and spoke with the ladies of the church (you know the ones - they are ever present and ready to feed a crowd for a celebration or a grieving family). I then found the wine station where I commented to one of the priests, "I find that when this many priests are gathered in one place I am in some kind of trouble."*** He laughed and we talked about the newly ordained of the diocese.

Before long the new priest, my friend, DK, made his way into the hall and I was able to visit with him for a moment. I had planned to ask him for a blessing. But he had blessed us repeatedly through the service. And, after all, he had also blessed me with his presence, his faith, and his friendship for the past 8 or so years. 

I know he will continue to pray for me as I will for him.

NOTES:

*I have written before about feeling at home among folks sharing the last names of my early classmates and friends - Havelka, Psencik, Vanecek, Valenta, and Schmidt, among others.

**He was a farmer when he received the call to the priesthood. I knew he was serious when he told me he had sold his cattle. He was also a member of the choir that sang the hymns for his first mass.

***I save the tales of the misspent youth of this long-time Catholic school student for another day. I suppose you could ask the Havelkas, Psenciks, Vaneceks, Valentas and Schmidts (among others) for the stories, but we of an age now where details begin to blur.

Additional note:

My mother's priest, SM became a friend of the family years ago. She used to remind him that he had to stay healthy as he promised to say her funeral mass (and he did). Mother would call him from time to time, just to check on him. I have not seen him since 2010.

I was shopping in the city near my home town recently. My nephew and I had taken a break at the coffee shop in the local book store. I noticed a familiar looking man at the coffee bar and realized it was SM. I walked over and greeted him and was doubly blessed. We talked about this and that. I told him of the first mass.

I also took his appearance as a sign from Mom.

And the clouds roll in...

It was almost too late to walk. The mornings barely cool-off anymore. It is important to get out before the sun is too far up and angled to warm up the day.

DH loaded his pack - continued training for the canoeing adventure to come. I loaded up pockets with plastic bags, keys and a camera.

And we were off.

DH (How heavy can that pack be if he is carrying his first mug of coffee?)

Neighborhood dogs were already out in their yards and sang their barking songs as we walked by.

Wildflowers struggled to grow out of grass cut short in the fields.

The sun peeked out of the clouds moving in from the south. Rain is forecast. But even before that, the sun and conspire to create a sauna, making it hard to accomplish anything outside.*

Our leatherflowers continue to bloom, but are retreating into the woods. Where once we found bright purple, we now find the crazy spiked balls of developing seeds. Some spiders had started building webs between the spikes.

See the webs?

A line of flowers and buds.

 

In almost every gap along the woods' edge spiders have built webs to catch their breakfast.

Spider and a hint of the web (the webs show better with a little flash).

This spider was busy wrapping up breakfast (a moth). The flash washes out the creatures, but highlights the web.

I am calling katydid (of the family Tettigoniidae).

This guy wasn't bothered by the camera. I love how it grasps the edges of the leaves and hangs on.

We no longer step into the woods. We no longer walk the dirt path. All are posted and unfriendly.**

As we turned for home today I handed Scruff's leash to DH. Scruff is an easier walk...less patience needed. And the boys headed off while I continued to investigate the spiders.

When Paddy and I turned we saw the boys stopped - frozen in place - just past a curve in the edge of the woods. DH and Scruffy stared into the clearing. DH nodded as if to indicate they were watching "something." I called to them. DH nodded again. I joined them in time to see a deer standing at the edge of the woods staring back.***

The deer snorted and fled into the woods. We all continued on our return trip, but the boys quickly out paced us.

Paddy and I were moving along at a "what else are we going to see" pace when mid-way up the second incline of the street I noticed a bright red truck slowing down at the curb (across the road). I stopped and faced the driver.****

The driver stopped, turned to me, and called my name - ah, a friend I have not spoken to in some time. He was on his way home from work and saw us walking. "So this is where you walk!" said he. I admitted it was one of the walks - maybe not our favorite, but a good one.

We took a few minutes to catch up. Then Paddy and I hurried home before the boys started to worry.


NOTES:

*Rain is forecast every day for the next week. After the flooding last month, we cast a wary eye at dark clouds.

**Oh, but they beckon!

*** 1) DH is not usually the stealthiest person. He often frightens the wildlife. 2) We had just walked past this clearing. Two people and two dogs should have "spooked" any deer. 3) DH says there had been 3 deer. Two were already in the woods by the time Paddy and I arrived.

****No shy violet, I. We are trained to be aware and prepared.