Monday, August 31, 2009

Starting an Arts Organization Workshop

"Shunpike is excited to announce the next installment of its successful Accountability & the Arts series – held for the first time in both Seattle & Tacoma . “Starting a New Arts Organization” will be held first on Monday, September 14th at 7pm in the Seattle Center House, Room 311, and again on Thursday, September 17th at 6pm at Tacoma ’s Suite 133 . This workshop, the fourth in 2009, will feature Shunpike’s Executive Director Andy Fife.

Getting an arts organization off the ground is no easy task. This session aims to provide artists and those wishing to found an arts group the knowledge to succeed in their new endeavor. Andy will share specific details on the legal, structural and financial foundations of new arts organizations, tips on finding efficiencies and accessing resources, and the importance of articulating a clear purpose and public benefit.

No stranger to starting new organizations, Andy is Executive Director of Shunpike, which is currently partnering with more than 100 new and emerging arts groups to help them develop. Previously, he served as Director of Operations and Production Manager at Consolidated Works, Seattle 's former multi-disciplinary center for contemporary art. Originally from the Chicago-land area, Andy began founding, running, and working with organizations while still finishing his undergraduate degree in Performance Studies at Northwestern University . Included in the list of past accomplishments are a housing cooperative, a dance theatre company, a multi-disciplinary performance series, a recording studio, and several creative projects in performance and installation.

Starting a New Arts Organization

Mon, 9/14 | 7pm | Seattle Center House – 3rd Floor – Room 311 | Seattle

&

Thu, 9/17 | 6pm | Suite 133 – 2nd Floor – 703 Pacific Ave | Tacoma

Free and open to the public – RSVPs appreciated but not required

info@shunpike.org

The Accountability & the Arts series has been developed in support of Shunpike’s mission to strengthen the Seattle arts community by partnering with small and mid-size arts groups to develop the business tools they need to succeed. The series launched in April 2005 with a public forum on the concept of accountability, and has continued bimonthly ever since. Podcast recordings of all previous workshops are available on iTunes and on Shunpike’s website. Accountability & the Arts is supported in part by funding from 4Culture, Seattle ’s Office of Arts and Cultural Affairs and the City of Tacoma .

About Shunpike

Shunpike’s mission is to strengthen the Seattle arts community by partnering with small and mid-size arts groups to develop the business tools they need to succeed. We help solve problems quickly and impart vital skills in finance, organizational management and arts administration. By customizing our services for the needs of each group, we strike a balance between what we do for clients and what we teach them to do on their own. Since our inception, we have supported work by more than 2,500 artists in live performance, film, literary arts, visual arts, and arts education."

Email from Strom-Avila, N. "Starting a New Arts Organization." August 25, 2009.

Niche Awards Due Date!

2010 NICHE Awards
Professional Deadline: Aug. 31

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Te Rongo Kirkwood

"Te Tau Hou"
Photo Credit: New Zealand Society of Artists in Glass

http://www.nzsag.co.nz/TeRongo-Kirkwood#


Best in glass category at the 2009 Royal Easter Show, NZ: "Puawai" by Te Rongo Kirkwood
Photo Credit: NZSAG
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqnKuo5mUXs/SewBTOClD_I/AAAAAAAAAPw/qX2eBy8QNOM/s1600-h/DSC_0236a.jpg


2009 NZSAG: "I am writing this after spending time receiving glass art for the Royal Easter Show, setting up the display, thankfully with help from a couple of tireless fellow artists and then today watching the judging. This year there are 47 entries compared with the 28 for 2008. This makes a big difference to the size of the display and the amount of work to get everything arranged to show off pieces to their best. This year there are quite a few wall hung pieces – some mosaics but also some other pieces. These provide a colourful display against which the other plinths and art are displayed. I previous years most pieces have been cast and this is again the case but there are a few blown pieces and a number of laminated piece as well as fused and slumped pieces. The judges were pleased to see new artists’ work and were unanimous in their choice of the winning pieces.
It was interesting to see some of the artists were presenting very different pieces than their traditional “bread and butter” lines of work. In some cases even people who are familiar with the art glass scene were stumped when asked to identify the artist responsible for certain pieces.
Congratulations to Te Rongo Kirkwood for winning the Art Glass section with her stunning fused and slumped piece “Puawai,” This piece was auctioned but passed in then sold immediately after the auction."

New Zealand Society of Artists in Glass. "Newsletter 12" April 20, 2009. accessed August 30, 2009. http://nzsag.blogspot.com/2009/04/newasletter-12.html


The Artist's Website: http://www.terongokirkwood.com/

2009 Ranamok Prize


Across The Lines

Hot moulded glass, paint and wire
90 H x 170 W x 5 D cm

Photographer: Mark Bellringer

Photocredit: www.Ranamok.com

"My work is inspired by the history of our land and people. It is a reflection of my thoughts on how we have evolved as a country. Retelling the stories of our heritage and setting them into a modern environment is what motivates me in my pursuit of glass works."

--Winner Lisa Walsh of Waverley, South Taranaki, New Zealand

Finalists this year were: Kate Bake, Emma Borland, Dominic Burrell, Perran Costi, Matthew Curtis, Dorde (George) Drobac, Benjamin Edols and Kathy Elliott, Mandy Eilbeck, Mark Eliott, Judi Elliott, Wendy Fairclough, Vicki Fanning, Brenden Scott French, Keith Grinter, Marc Grunseit, Tevita Havea, Sue Hawker, Ede Horton, Nejat Kavvas, Masaki Kawanabe,


Te Rōngō Kirkwood

"E Oho-Kua Awatea"


Fused and cold worked glass
56 H x 97 W x 0.9 D cm

Photographer: Howard Williams

Te Rōngō Kirkwood, Richard Morrell, Nick Mount, Kumiko Nakajima, Nudibranch Art Glass, Graham Orridge, Tom Rowney, Fiona Ruttelle,

Benjamin Sewell

"Local Family on Distant Bank. Millstream, North Western Australia 1978"


Hand blown glass, white overlay on black, wheel cut
32 H x 34 W x 11.5 D cm

Photographer: Tim Robinson

Benjamin Sewell, Suzannah Terauds, Emma Varga, Lisa Walsh, Maureen Williams.

"2009 marks the fifteenth year of The Ranamok Glass Prize and in celebration of this the prize money has been raised to A$15,000. The Ranamok Glass Prize is an annual acquisitive award for glass artists who are resident in Australia and New Zealand. The work presented for consideration for The Ranamok Glass Prize is expected to be a major effort in the artist's personal body of work. This work should be innovative, displaying excellence and imagination in quality of idea and execution in contemporary practice. The Prize has played a major role in achieving significant links and paths within this field of visual arts and it remains the major focus for Australian and New Zealand contemporary glass. Its success has far exceeded expectations for artists and audiences alike. We thank all those who contribute and who continue to be part of its formidable progress into the future. Maureen Cahill, Director Glass Artists’ Gallery"

2009 Ranamok Glass Prize. accessed August 30, 2009. http://www.ranamok.com/2009_detail_pages/walsh_2009.htm)

More Photos of the Ranomok Prize 2009 from Glass Central Canberra's photostream on Flickr:
"Lisa Walsh, 'Across the Lines' (detail)"
Photo Credit: Glass Central Canberra/Kelly Gang on Flickr
Accessed August 30, 2009.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/glasscentralcanberra/3858789822/in/set-72157622147835534/

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Garth Clark's 2008 lecture "How Art Envy Killed the Craft's Movement"

“For most of the modern crafts movement’s 150 year life it has dealt with a debilitating condition: an unhappy contentious relationship with the fine arts. In 1939 Fortune Magazine ran a survey of ceramics, in America, and titled it “The Art with the Inferiority Complex.” That was equally true then as it is now of craft across the board. Craft has variously ebbed and flowed, moving between resentment of the art and envy. This relationship grew increasingly acrimonious as art moved away from craft-based values in the mid-century and closer to conceptualism and the dematerialization of the art object. The roots of craft’s art envy art long and they are complex. They arrive from the moment of birth when it was named the Arts and Crafts Movement. The title was determined by class, craftsmen in Victorian England were mostly rural and lower working class; the members of the Arts and Crafts Movement were middle and upper class. So they needed something that said, “better than just craft”—hence the word Arts. Right there the strange and unhappy dance between art and craft begins. Over the decades this grew from an annoying neurosis into a full blown pathological obsession that ultimately in the late 20th century killed the movement. The Arts and Crafts Movement in the second half of the 19th century was a major player in Victorian and Edwardian life. The movement was founded to save the values of craftsmanship from being destroyed by an impersonal machine age. It was immensely influential and controversial. It was widely parried in literature and theater, but it was also effective and enjoyed a high profile. Intellectual giants roamed its stage. John Ruskin, William Morris, Augustus Wilby Pugin and Oscar Wilde. Its adherents included Frank Lloyd Wright and Louis Comfort Tiffany. It had a major influence on fashion and decoration in its day, inspired developments in modern architecture and some of its theory can be found in the ideological foundations of the modernist movement itself. There was also something curiously dilettante and academic about the movement. Most of its practioners then did not make anything by their own hand. They were white-collar crafters, and if you don’t mind I will use the word crafters rather than craftsperson and craftspeople which is sort of linguistically repugnant in a way, it’s such a cold, PC term.

They designed on paper, explored the science of their craft, they were mostly privileged, had private incomes, and were well educated. The actual labor was performed by skilled, anonymous workers often listed without respect in the studio ledgers as ‘laborers’. So there was something not quite authentic about these new crafters…

In the next stage, studio craft from the late 1918 onwards corrected this as individuals became responsible for the making as well as the designing.

[…] Craft between the two world wars also suffered a severe setback. Modernism, despite having been influenced by the Arts and Crafts Movement, threw the crafts overboard. They _____ the crafts movement as serving a regressive bourgeoisie taste, partly true, and argued that hand manufacture was inefficient and a costly form of production that could only lead to precious objects. This did not serve the needs of the proletariat. Socialism was the ruling ideology of this time, and it was kind of ironic since the crafts movement was amongst the pioneers of socialism in the previous century. Industry, they decided, created inexpensive, well-designed products for everyone. In some ways this argument was exaggerated, but William Morris might well have agreed. Towards the end of his career, he bemoaned the fact that he had been reduced to making bibilos for the rich.

The impact of this was to cut craft off from the vitality of modernism in the 1920s and the 1930s. Without modernism’s search for the new to influence them, craft, born as a revival movement to begin with, exaggerated this role and much of the energy of that time was given to the reproducing of old techniques and aesthetics.

So the movement, resentful of being pushed into the margins, became increasingly anachronistic, hermetic, and anti-art. They spoke resentfully against art as being decadent, ego-driven, and lacking the supposed moral authority of making objects by hand for use. Others less involved in functionalism simply made fashionable, decorative wares in the romantic Art Deco style. So when one surveys the growth of modernism at that time, the role of crafts is slight.

After 1946 this begins to change. The American craft movement, the deceased subject of this talk. Entered a period of astounding growth and brilliance. Due to the GI Bill, education became popular, and universities across the country began to open departments to cater to this demand. Craft courses were enormously popular and spread rapidly. By 1975 nearly 300 institutions of higher education offered courses, MFAs and BFAs in the crafts.

Around the same time craft’s marketplace began to explode. And a strong, three-tiered structure emerged. At the lower end was the craft fair, the most populous level. In the middle was a hybrid, a craft shop and gallery, which provided a bridge to the top end, true galleries that were modeled on the fine arts style.

Prices quickly soared after 1980 from hundreds of dollars to tens of thousands to eventually even hundreds of thousands. The collector base, once tiny, was growing in leaps and bounds, and the new collectors were affluent.

The field was represented by an active powerful New York based organization, The American Crafts Council. It published a respected magazine, Craft Horizons; ran the Museum of Contemporary Craft in New York and a thriving craft shop, American House, in the city; organized national and regional conferences, touring exhibitions; arranged fairs; and generally promoted the field.

[…] While craft was doing well, fine art was doing better. It was much more glamorous, had better museums and institutions, and of course a much better rewards program. Envy was fueled by resentment that while craft was successful, was not as respected nor as valued as the fine arts. This resentment was justifiable at least by one subgenre with the crafts--those who were not crafters: Robert Arneson, Ron Nagle, and others who were trapped because of the material a parted by the instituted by the modernist regime. (?) Certain activities such as ceramics were considered de facto crafts by the arts no matter whether the maker was producing art or not. For these few artists the insistence that they be taken seriously as fine artists was just. For the rest of the crafters who climbed aboard this bandwagon, it was wishful thinking, and they were embarking on a quixotic journey that was going to end very badly and in their rejection. They too wanted to cross over as had Ken Price and others, so they loaded their crafts with footnotes from Jansen’s History of Art and festooned it with quotes from Michel Foucault.

The result was that craft was strongly and sometimes pretentiously influenced by art but it did not in the process become fine art.

The result of this desire to escape craft had, by the beginning of the 21st century, left the movement in tatters: Craft had lost its flagship museum, it’s council had been moribund for over a decade, it’s market had fallen apart; education was shrinking and failing to produce young crafters (rather it was graduating multi-media sculptors); craft was completely overshadowed by design; and today is a less influential part of the visual arts than ever before.

[…] More than any other single factor [art envy] poisoned the movement and brought about its demise.

[...] We dealt in ceramics. Some of what we exhibited was unquestionably craft and we identified it as such. But we also exhibited […] others, that was also unquestionably fine art. This meant that we worked both sides of the art craft divide. We showed art on the SOFA art fairs as well as the blue chip art fair, the art show that was organized by the exclusive American Art Dealers Association, of which we were members. So we were privy to the backroom arguments and the gossip of both.

From 1980 on, the argument that craft was really art was ubiquitous, fevered, and relentless. The failure of craft was blamed on fine arts elitism. But rarely did one hear the argument that the simple truth was was that it was just because craft was different. The argument was drawn b two relatively small groups within the crafts, some of the leading artists and the collectors, but even though they were a small minority they were he most vocal and persistent voices in contemporary craft. It would be nice to say that they were all motivated by a desire to upgrade the entire art group and some were, but it is not completely true. Bubris in both cases was the motivation, and far from wanting to improve the crafts, the real goal was to escape the field and let those left behind survive as best they could. And what it finally did was to lead craft into a bloody war against itself.

The ACC’s Museum of Contemporary Crafts was the major battlefield. And what happened there is the most instructive case study but bare in mind at the same time on a smaller level, a hundred similar battles were taking place across America.

It began in earnest in the late 1970s when the council was first forced to look for patrons. Until then the New England blue stocking Mrs. Eileen Osbourne Vanderbilt Webb (sp?) […] had generously funded the organization […] when she ran out of funds [they] turned to collectors, the only pool of affluence in the craft world.

These were the new collectors […] Some, not all, saw craft as a property that could be gentrified, upgraded into art with a resultant increase in value, prestige and giving heightened stature to them as cultural czars without paying the same high entrance fee as in the fine arts.

I know this sounds very cynical, but I was there, and there is more truth in this statement than not.

They joined the board of the ACC and slowly took control. First they imposed a corporate style makeover. Craft Horizons was named American Craft, the Museum of Contemporary Craft […] became the American Craft Museum. It all looked so logical on paper. But at the price of creating a rather bland institutional character.

It was soon apparent that the collectors were less interested in the council than in its museum, this was the prize right in the middle of New York City and right opposite the Museum of Modern Art. They decided to build a new museum […] It opened in 1986, and remained impressive if one remained outside looking at the two-storey glass façade. But the interior was dominated by a vast entrance three stories deep with a large […] staircase that we named the Staircase to Nowhere because it led to tiny claustrophobic galleries. The staff was housed in a dank windowless basement, there was no coat check (which is essential in a New York public space) and bizarrely they decided there would be no gift shop, even though the council, burdened by the construction costs was in a perilous financial state. […] But it had a certain superficial glamour, and now that they had a temple for their collections the collectors no longer needed the council. […] Craft, the kind that was made by the bulk of the council’s membership was of no interest to them; indeed it was an embarrassment, a reminder of craft’s peasant roots. They were interested in craft that looked like art. And in their minds, given a rather primitive understanding of art, they thought it was art. So they council had to go and the museum sued for divorce.

In 1990 after a particularly vicious and acrimonious separation they parted company. The council moved to Soho but never seemed to recover from the bruising fight. […] It became largely dormant except for it’s two for profit enterprises, the magazine and the craft fairs.

[…] In 2002 it became the Museum of Arts and Design which gave them their curiously beloved acronym MAD. The Times recently took them to task for perhaps taking it too seriously. The palace had finally defeated the cottage and craft officially became the art that dare not speak its name.

None of this of course turned craft into art. The more vigorously the museum argued that craft was art delivered with Palin-esque bluster: […] “I understand art because I can see an art collection in the apartment across the street from me.” As they did this the more the exposed the ignorance of the latter. The art world saw this and talked of them as barbarians at the gate and they kept it tightly locked so the crafts could not enter. Felipe de Montebello, the former director of the Metropolitan Museum, gave them a name ‘The Homeless Ones’. […] Behind the scenes the museum was becoming the laughing stock of New York’s art world. At the end of this war that craft waged against itself, the field was in shambles.

[…] The marketplace was slipping. Crafts identity was now thoroughly confused and compromised; it was almost impossible to write honestly about a field while it pretended to be something else. And the field lost credibility, direction, and purpose. And also lost what had always been one of its most sterling qualities, authenticity.

The art craft gambit had failed and the (?) set in. Apologists will tell you that the result of these efforts was that craft is now more accepted in the fine arts. This is not true. Craft is no more accepted today than decades before. What has changed is that craft materials, processes, and contexts can now be used in fine art. And that an artist working in these materials will not automatically be rejected.

But this was the result of the liberalizing impact of post-modernism and its promiscuous approach to means, not to the influence of contemporary crafts.

The fight resulted in strangely distorted values. Craft became the only community outside the penitentiary to give its greatest respect to escapees. Ken Price, Ron Nagle, Betty woodman, June Kinika (sp?), Richard Devore, are the fields most admired players; what they all have in common is that they got away and they joined the fine arts. This became the ultimate goal causing craft to be viewed as a kind of purgatory in which weavers, potters, metal smiths, glassblowers, and jewelers all waited impatiently to be promoted to [?]. Eventually wearied by this artificial and self-loathing thankless mission, craft slowly weakened and it died.

I would place the time of death around 1995. Of course craft itself continued but the venerable old movement, with its desire to establish high craft as the peer of art, was now clearly deceased. All its vital organs, that is, it’s institutions, have failed or are failing and it had been reduced to the outer margins of American culture. Compared to the current developments in art and design, craft is more marginalized and more irrelevant than it has ever been. And I don’t say any of these things with pleasure, indeed exactly the opposite.

And if there was any doubt […] that was removed when the American Crafts Council threw a wake. It was not intentional of course but it ended up serving that purpose anyway. It was a leadership conference, presumptuously entitled, “Shaping the Future of Craft.” […] The event was reminiscent of a 1989 film, the sleeper hit, called “Weekend At Bernie’s”: […] Occasionally craft’s limp hand was waved in the air to simulate life, but for the rest of it the conference studiously avoided the fact that there was a cadaver in the room. There were only two moments of reality. The first was when Martin Puryear gave his keynote address. He’d been asked to discuss that hoary old subject The Difference Between Art and Craft. […] Puryear made it clear that he did not see any connection between the two, even though he used wood with exceptional skill and eloquence, this did not give him any connection to craft and furthermore, quote, “You can make great art, without great craft, but you cannot make great craft without great skill.” In other words, craft really is about craft. Well, that did not go down very well.

[…] In theory the conference was supposed to deal with three themes: criticism and scholarship, museums, and new artists. They were hardly the most important issues facing the field but either way only one of them, new artists, ever got any attention. Every one of the panelists […] vied to present their picks of the week; bright young things making bright young things. It had a certain appeal at first but as it continued it became more repetitive and tiresome. Also it became clear that virtually none of these new artists, the terms- by the way- crafter, craftsman, craftsperson appeared to have been banned from the proceedings and those terms did not even appear in the ACCs conference literature.

It seemed that these new artists were not destined to live in the world of crafts. This was great for design and sculpture where they were clearly destined but what did this say about craft?

[…] The experience was like being trapped for 48 hours between the cover of a wallpaper magazine, which, by the way, was where most of the bright things belonged.

[…] If one had taken all the under 40s, they would not have filled the first two rows of the Hilton Hotel’s rather chilly auditorium. In part this was the result of a curiously hermetic policy of attendance by invitation only but it also did reflect the aging of the crafts and its failure to renew.

[…] It also confirmed that what passes as theory, criticism, and debate in craft […] has, with a few notable exceptions, become the most dishonest, mindless, uninformed, meaningless, evasive, and delusional activity in the arts.

[…] Craft has been overdosing on nostalgia, the equivalent of sugar in art. This is craft’s Achilles heel. It’s understandable in a way, Craft was born as a revivalist movement and revivalist movements are powered by nostalgia, not unlike, say, a historic house museum. Some nostalgia is unavoidable in craft. Used with restraint it can add charm and a rich connection to the past. But when it is overdone it turns into syrupy sentimentality, which is why there is so much cloying whimsy and saccharine cuteness in the crafts.

Being hooked on nostalgia also seems to have stunted crafts ability to engage in contemporary aesthetics. Craft aesthetics have become more regressive an anachronistic in the 21st century. Audiences are complaining about this now and this goes from galleries through to the crafts fairs, of the same old same old romantic crafts aesthetic. Buyers are looking for a fresher younger voice that speaks of the moment and craft for the time being seems incapable of delivering.

[…] An excess of academic influence. And I know I’m in an art school and I shouldn’t say that but […]

Indeed craft [...] may be the most academically dependent activity in the arts. At the ACC conference, all the featured speakers were from academia in one form or another. There was a token collector, a token dealer (although he was also a maker and a teacher), and a token crafter (although he made most of his income administering a design and art workshop in Kansas City), that means that not once, during the entire conference seeking to shape 21st century craft, did a single, full-time, self-identifying crafter stand on that stage. […] The shaping of the future was going to be done by academics.

When I questioned one of the trustees about the submissions, she replied, “Just as well. Those people are not part of the event because they are always trying to take control. ”

[…]

I asked [the ACC] what was its role. “Educating people about the kind of craft we like to collect” was the startling answer.

[…]

For decades the pattern in craft was to have a close friend and fellow crafter write one’s review; crafters have written most of the books and curated the bulk of the exhibitions, organized the conferences… very little light was shone on craft from without much to its detriment.

[…] Craft has a twin, from whom it was separated at birth, and that twin, the same age, involved in the same issues of function and decoration, has never been healthier more potent, or more relevant. Both came out of […] The Great Exhibition in London in 1851. […] This exhibition raised considerable clamor about the poor standard of design in industry. While craft made the decision to fight against industry, its twin, the applied arts, took a more pragmatic view of the situation and realizing that industry was going to triumph no matter what chose to fight from within. This produced the first generation of industrial designers, and while their means were different at the end what they were doing was identical-devising gracious, intelligent objects for the home.

In the early 20th century, applied art took on a new name; modern design and it formed a close, interworking relationship with both modern art and architecture without compromising any of its own identity or independence. From the outsets in the 1930s design was shown at the Museum of Modern Art, craft was not. […] Design suffered less from ‘hardened arteries’ because it was not as intimately connected to the university system. Design had to live in the capitalist world where the tolerance for academic posturing was slight. Except when design deliberately chooses to make a link to nostalgia, the new Volkswagen Bug is a good example; design is largely driven by a desire to be new, inventive and flexible, constantly adjusting to the desires of its audience and their changes in lifestyle.

Art envy was not a problem, although there are signs that design might be showing early stages of that malaise now. Design, as long as it kept its own identity, was a welcome member of the art club, so it had nothing to prove. Today art galleries are increasingly including design in the exhibition programs. Recently the Gagosian Gallery held an exhibition of Mark Newson’s furniture. Newson is Britain’s greatest design start. What I found impressive, aside from the fact that this four week exhibition grossed 50 million dollars in sales, is that when Larry Gagosian was interviewed about the event, asked, “Is design the new art?” he said blankly that design did not need art to give it veracity. Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how we approached the crafts? This kind of money was not made by selling mass-produced furniture, ceramics, or Newsons’ very distinctive sneakers. For the exhibition Newsome offered limited edition craft from solid blocks of marble (I really hated it, between you and I, but that’s another story.) These sold from $350,000 to $750,000 each. And recently a limited edition chaise of his sold at auction for $1.4 million. You will find examples of the same idea, limited edition works by major designers, and in this case Holland’s genius Marcel Wanders, at the Manufactured Show at the MCA. This now intrudes from design into a market of higher priced hand made furniture that was once the sole purview of crafters like Wendell Castle. So design, without intent of doing harm, as we are really barely on their radar, is undermining the craft market at every level. It can produce handsome ceramics, fabrics, and jewelry, at low cost. It can produce work that to the average eye seems handcrafted and machines can now produce objects where every piece is to some extent unique, and with its limited edition they’ve entered the high craft market as well. On the other hand in the fine arts they’re working now more frequently with craft materials, so if you want a sculpture in glass, wood, ceramics, or fiber, one can get it from an art gallery with the added advantage that it carries the imprimatur of an internationally known artist. In theory this makes it if not a secure investment, at least a safer expenditure. This pincer movement from both the fine arts and design, while not have happened, as design demonstrates. Imitating art was not the route to success. Standing firm, defending craft for its many virtues would have given the movement a much longer life.

What the comparison with design also proves is that crafts slowing market cannot be blamed, at least not for the past ten years, on general economic conditions. At the same time that Americans had been spending unprecedented amounts on home furnishings, decorations, and art, the interest in craft has declined, at least in the marketplace. This is very sobering.

[…] What about the future that ACC wanted to shape? First, please do not try and bring the movement back. It will be about as much fun and probably about as pretty as the craft version of “Night of the Living Dead.” Its demise actually presents a wonderful opportunity to rethink craft; and the rot of death is, after all, the food for new life. Andrew Fulcronshon the new director for the ACC, smart, knowledgeable and pragmatic, has an opportunity on his hands. How can he give craft and for that matter, his council, a new life? It depends very much upon what he decides to jettison from the past and what he decides to keep. Well, here is a short list of suggestions: Let go of New York, the ACC should move to a smaller city where craft can have a higher profile and not have to live like a struggling shade plant beneath Manhattan’s design, fashion, and fine art monoliths. Choose a city that has a long history in modern craft, a thriving creative and youth culture, has a museum that has the word craft still in it, a population of about 500,000, and whose name begins with “P”. Deal with two issues. One is to find a new viable model for the crafts studio, which is really not working anymore. And the other, enter craft into the 21st century aesthetically speaking. Post a definition of craft that is accurate and unambiguous. Only accept members that are self-identifying. Create a place for traditional […] classical craft which is not that contemporary, yet present it in a way that gives it respect and value because it adds that to our culture. Forge an alliance with design. This is the winning marriage, not the happy stalking of the fine arts.

Craft is too small today, and its institutions too diminished to survive on their own in the cultural food chain. Craft today, is really, a branch of design. The Dutch noted this some time ago. Some of their best crafters, for instance the jeweler Hes Barker (sp?) […] lives now with a foot planted, and rather profitably planted, in both worlds. The Dutch also came up with a great new word for craft […] they called it free design. Meaning that the crafter is released from the demands of industrial production. A free designer can make one of a kind works in series, change ideas at a moment; they are not bothered by the structure and demands of industry. Making a partnership between design and craft will take craft into a much more sophisticated, urbane world. And out of the Little House on the Prairie, rustic bias, which seems to rule the field. It will also move the eyes further apart. (That’s a reference to incest by the way.) […]

This is a perfect fit as Ben Williams recently proved. He used to run the contemporary ceramics auctions at Bonhams in London. Then he joined Philips du Pury and decided to merge ceramics within Philips superb and scholarly design auctions. It was a seamless fit […] both machine and hand living in harmony. And it made a point…context is everything. Had Williams done the same thing with ceramics and fine art the result would have been a very awkward stand off. And as for fine art and craft, if you feel you belong in the former, please leave. There is no point in telling craft that you are really a fine artist, particularly if you are accepting rare and precious craft funds in the process. Leave and prove yourself in the arena in which you think you belong. And if you fail, and if you become a born again crafter again, you can always return.

There is another option; recently an applied art movement has begun in Europe. They’ve taken this movement, which actually museum curators loathe for some reason and that is why they like the word, it is sort of like ‘queer theory’, taking things which are negative and making them positive. It’s a mix of art and design and has many ex-crafters involved. The aesthetics is industrial and these artists like Marix Esuly (sp?) in Poland, Barnaby Boffett (sp?) in England, deal with transformation of domestic objects, taking their familiarity and placing them in another universe. Some of these mutant housewives, which is my playful name for them, make both art and design. […] And this is not another world of art envy, the applied artists are confident, non-hierarchical, and they have been mining a seam that is also being explored simultaneously in the fine arts by artists like Timothy Horn with his jewelry on steroids, Cornelia Parker’s steamrolled silver tea service, and Ai Weiwei’s Demolition Derbys’ destroying treasured stone furniture and actual stone age parts that are 7,000 years old.

[…] The fine arts has a partner. I say this not unkindly, but pragmatically; it is time to let the old crafts movement go. There is so much useless baggage attached to this old veteran of the culture wars, that schlepping it along will only stop crafts from the 20th century I do not mean this disrespectfully. I don’t mean for it to be tossed on the scrap heap with the rest of the century’s cultural detritus. This talk has been specifically about the damage of art envy. So it has in it’s own way cast craft in rather a negative light. But it applies only to the ideology, not to the individual craftsman, not toward what was being made—much of that is remarkable, universal, masterful. And the period from 1946 to 1980 is a particularly golden moment. Think of the best work of Peter Voulkos, Wendell Castle, Albert Paley, Dale Chihuly, and many others. And you know that I will only vouch for their pre-1980 work. After that, art envy brought about some ghastly art wannabe objects into their oeuvre. This period was one of extraordinary inventiveness, deep conviction, and material magic that will only become more and more revered in America’s visual arts history. And it is unquestionably art, but it is craft art. But this will only happen if the craft community assumes its duty to complete the scholarship around this period. The continued legacy of these artists rests on how well we do that job. The fine arts won’t do it for us, nor will design. It is a sacred trust for our field. And some progress is being made; Janet Koplos and Bruce Metcalf recently completed the first college textbook on the history of modern craft destined for the art history departments. New writers are emerging whose views are fresher, smarter, and unburdened by the past. Glenn Adamson is a standout and in his book, Thinking Through Craft, he provides a wonderfully sly and healing vision of this field.

So there is life after death. It can be a great stage, but only if craft is confident and easy in its own skin. As a warning of past failings, I quote from the greatest and most controversial of American art critics and theorists, Clement Greenberg. And he made a remark that I think should be etched in stone and placed in every craft institution. We were fortunate enough to snag him as the keynote speaker for the Ceramic Art Foundation’s 1st International Conference in 1979. Surprisingly he did considerable research for his talk and at the event said to the assembled delegates, ‘You strike me as a group that is more concerned with opinion than achievement.’ If we can reverse those priorities, craft will be just fine. Craft is dead, long live the crafts. Thank you very much."

Clark, G. "How Envy Killed the Crafts Movement: An Autospsy in Two Parts." October 2008. Past CraftPerspectives Lectures at the Museum of Contemporary Craft. Portland, OR. Accessed August 29, 2009. Transcribed and abridged by ABJ Seattle Glass Online--lots of spelling errors, sorry. http://www.museumofcontemporarycraft.org/media/2008_10_16_Garth_Clark_Craftperspect1.mp3

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

2008 Stanford University Show

2008 Ben Marks:

"This summer, with little fanfare, the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford University borrowed fewer than 20 rather superb works of Contemporary Glass from local collections and put on a show. The reason for this modest endeavor was not to respond to the gargantuan scale of Chihuly at the de Young. Rather, it was to call attention to the connection between Stanford University and the Venetian glass firm of Salviati & Co., whose mosaic murals grace Stanford Memorial Church. Jane Stanford herself gave the Salviati company the commission, for which the Salviati company gave Mrs. Stanford some 200 glass vessels as a thank-you gift.

As conceits go, this one's predictably precious, but Stanford is not the only august institution of higher learning to be somewhat taken with itself, so it's in good company. More interesting than the self-congratulatory reason for the show is the art and, like it or not, how this exhibition compares to the three-ring circus to the north.

The pieces in Contemporary Glass are displayed in the circular Oshman Family Rotunda (the balcony overlooking the Rodin sculptures) and the long H. L. Kwee Galleria (the second-floor passageway adjacent to the main galleries of contemporary art). The show begins at the nexus of both spaces with a hand-painted, lampworked piece from 1995 by Ginny Ruffner. Like many of Ruffner's sculptures, this one, called Double Dutch, is built on an open armature of glass, which, in this case, resembles a six-sided diamond pointing up. Attached wherever it seems convenient and aesthetically sensible is a heart, fish hook, picture frame, flower, and pair of frontward and backward capital Ds, whose voids have been filled in with almost naive copies of the couple in the famous Jan van Eyck painting from 1434 called The Arnolfi Portrait. Never mind that van Eyck was not Dutch; Ruffner is more interested in poetry than precision. The surface of Ruffner's work is the thing that continues to get me. I just love the way her colors alternately hide or accentuate the sand-pitted surface of her fragile, occasionally unwieldy, forms.

Just down the hall is a lovely piece by Richard Royal, who spent a couple of decades (or maybe it just felt like that) as a gaffer on various Chihuly teams. Part of the Relationship Series, this 1992 work consists of a pair of bowls, one a soft blue, the other an equally quiet green, whose bases, if you can imagine this, are shaped like snaking tails or tendrils. The tails face each other so that one bowl rests on its rim while the other is open at the top. In the middle, simultaneously being caressed by and holding these two mirror images together, is a traditionally shaped purple vase, suspended in space by the embrace of the green and blue tendrils. Like much of Royal's work, this deceptively simple piece does not call undue attention to itself. Certainly there are countless more fantastic examples of these sorts of snaking shapes, in a shamelessly varied range of colors, up at the de Young, but Royal is not going for volume here. For him, it's quite enough, thank you, to do one thing with modest perfection.

Toward the end of the hall is one of two works in the show by Richard Marquis. This one is a teapot from 1977, which was selected, no doubt, because of Marquis's use of murrine, which are slender threads of glass that have been collected and then fused to reveal patterns or designs when they are cut into cross sections (picture sushi, with white glass for the rice, purple glass for the tuna, green for the cucumber, etc.) Marquis's murrine designs lean to hearts, stars, and checkerboards, which he applies to his vessels when they are still hot. As the vessel expands and is deliberately distorted, the murrine become blurry and irregularly shaped, all of which gives the teapot the look of something you might find in the kitchen cupboard of one of the Freak Brothers.

Other pieces to spend some time with include Yellow and Ferrari Red Palla by Benjamin Moore, who has also done his time working for Chihuly, and two untitled forms by Lino Tagliapietra, the Venetian master who taught a number of the artists here more than a few of the most important secrets of the Venetian glass trade. Tagliapietra's pieces, both from 1997, have a mid-century-modern sensibility that's unique in this group. The pink and blue colors are deliberately dull while the shapes (the blue one is weirdly tall while the pink lozenge-shaped piece feels vaguely feminine) are just plain odd. The vertical black pinstriping on the surfaces of the pieces completes their retro feel, but it's the surface beneath the surface of these curious objects that catches you by surprise. Using a technique called battuto, Tagliapietra has carved lines resembling the marks for a woodcut into small sections of his pieces. The rest of the surface below the pinstriping has been painstakingly chipped away to give the objects the look of a pair ancient hammered copper urns.

The Chihulys in the Rotunda are handsome enough, although by now we have been well trained by the artist to expect a great deal more, as is the Petroglyph Vessel from 1990 by William Morris (another Chihuly factory alum). But the objects you are most likely to fall in love with are the bowls from 1995 and 2006 by Mary Ann (Toots) Zynsky. Unlike Ruffner, who paints in a fairly traditional manner on her surfaces, Zynsky's pieces are all paint, built entirely from the wire-like threads of pure colored glass that Marquis and others use to create murrine. Instead of forming her threads into rods that are meant to be sliced, heated, and then expanded, Zynsky works with the threads themselves, painting in three dimensions with their colors and then slumping and fusing her compositions into organic, bowl- or basket-like shapes. Resembling nests created by a bird with a highly developed sense of color and a serious case of obsessive-compulsive disorder, Zynsky's work remains singular amid the gloss of much contemporary glass. Her pieces don't shine, but oh how they glow.

Contemporary Glass runs indefinitely at Cantor Arts Center, Lomita Drive and Museum Way, Stanford. Admission is free; closed Mondays and Tuesdays. For information visit museum.stanford.edu or call 650-723-4177."

Marks, B. "Contemporary glass at Stanford." August 31, 2008. accessed August 12, 2009 http://www.kqed.org/arts/visualarts/article.jsp?essid=23258. KQED, Northern California Public Broadcasting.

Monday, August 10, 2009

WorldArtGlass.com

ABJ Seattle Glass Online is now stored in small oak barrels @ www.worldartglass.com!

www.worldartglass.com is a great gateway to tons of info about glass. I especially like the long list of links to all the publications that are out there!

Thanks Bill Geary!

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Yoichi Ohira

Yoichi Ohira
Colata di Lava n. 4” Vase
2005
Photo Credit: Barry Friedman, Ltd.

"Yoichi Ohira was born in Japan in 1946. In 1969, he graduated from the Kuwasawa Design School in Tokyo. During his studies there, Ohira read a novel set in Finland by Hiroyuki Itsuki, the well-known Japanese writer. This book introduced him to the fascinating world of art glass.

After graduating, Ohira became a glassblowing apprentice at the Kagami Crystal Company, Ltd. in Tokyo, where he worked for a year and a half. In 1971, he became a glassblower at a smaller glassworks in Chiba province, where he worked for one year.

Ohira moved to Venice in 1973, and enrolled in the Sculpture program at the Accademia di Belle Arti [Academy of Fine Arts]. That same year, he met Egidio Costantini of Fucina degli Angeli, known for his glass sculptures, and worked as one of his collaborators for many years. In 1978, Ohira graduated from the Accademia di Belle Arte with honors, and received the highest possible grade for his degrees thesis, The Aesthetics of Glass.

Upon graduation, Ohira began to work in sculpture, producing works made of a combination of welded iron with plate glass, exhibiting them in group and one-man shows, mainly in Italy.

His collaboration with La Fucina degli Angeli introduced him to Murano glass circles, and in 1987 he was invited as a designer to create a series of art glass collections for the de Majo glassworks of Murano. In the same year, he won the “Premio Selezione� of the Murano Prize.

He has been working as an independent artist in the glass field since the early 1990s, producing one-of-a-kind pieces in collaboration with the best Murano master glassmakers."

Barry Friedman, Ltd. website. accessed August 9, 2009. http://barryfriedmanltd.com/artists/yoichi_bio.html

"His work is produced by Anfora di Renzo Ferro, and is represented in Europe and the United States by Barry Friedman Ltd. His awards include the Premio Murano “Premio Selezione” prize (received in 1987), and the Rakow Commission from the Corning Museum of Glass, New York (2001)."

Unknown. Merrell Publishers, London and NY. "Yoichi Ohira." Indiana Museum of Art exhibit "European Design since 1985 Shaping the Century." website accessed August 9, 2009. http://www.imamuseum.org/exhibitions/european-design/designers/yoichi-ohira


2002 Rita Reif:

"YOICHI OHIRA has worked in glass for more than 30 years, first as a glass blower in his native Tokyo, then, since 1973, as a glass designer on the island of Murano in Venice. While not the first Japanese artist to produce glass there, he was the only one to remain and make Venice his home.

Today, Mr. Ohira's Murano glass, a fusion of Asian forms and Venetian surfaces, has attracted an international following. Interest was spurred in this country by two one-man exhibitions in 2000 and 2001 at the Barry Friedman gallery in Manhattan. Both shows sold out.

Mr. Friedman, who represents the artist internationally but not in Japan, said Mr. Ohira's works were now owned by scores of collectors and seven museums in the United States, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the American Craft Museum, the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum and the Corning Glass Museum in upstate New York.

Now Mr. Friedman has organized an exhibition of 200 objects that is four times larger than either of his previous shows. Half the pieces on view were lent by collectors and are not for sale; the rest are new works priced at $3,800 to $14,500.

''I don't know another market in the contemporary craft field that is as strong as glass,'' Mr. Friedman said. ''There are so many clubs and organizations of glass collectors -- more than 10 nationwide -- that are helping to fuel interest in contemporary work.''

Curiously, Mr. Ohira's works were not recognized until recently, possibly because the artist, who is 55, never sought public attention. He lives modestly in Venice in a one-bedroom apartment, a 15-minute trip to the island of Murano in the Venetian lagoon. But his life and work began to change in 1992, when he was invited to put on an exhibition by the art gallery of the Isetan department store in Tokyo. To produce the objects for the show, he quit his job as the chief designer at a Murano factory and started making one-of-a-kind pieces, hiring two glassmakers to help him at the Anfora glassworks on Murano. The two men, Livio Serena, a master glass blower and Giacomo Barbini, a master glass cutter, have produced his glass ever since.

''Working with them, I was able for the first time to make the kind of glass objects I had dreamed of creating,'' Mr. Ohira said. ''The exhibition in Tokyo was a big success.''

At the time, Mr. Ohira was focused almost exclusively on producing transparent glass objects, a look that was dominating the field of contemporary glass. But he was eager to experiment, so he switched to ancient techniques, making opaque glass in forms inspired by Chinese porcelains. He chose strong Song Dynasty shapes, like spheres and gourds, combining them with narrow necks and dynamic Venetian surfaces that pulse with brilliant colors, abstract patterns, contrasting textures and jewel-like luminescence.

Mr. Ohira is a hands-on designer, a trait common among studio artists and one that is increasingly seen in the factories of Murano. He starts by selecting the opaque and transparent canes (rods of glass) that he uses in all his objects. He then cuts them to the desired thickness and length and assembles the pieces on a flat metal sheet, as if he were preparing a pizza. Now he adds the sausagelike slices of canes called murrhines and sprinkles the surface with powders for glitter. The ''pizza'' goes into the furnace, where the canes fuse and the glass softens so that the object can be blown.

Mr. Ohira is deft at devising more than a score of different traditional surface treatments, many of which are not at all what they seem to be. A vase in the shape of a double gourd looks as if red ink had been dribbled down its snow-white surface, when in fact the vase is made entirely of red and white glass canes of varying sizes. And a tall, cone-shaped black vase, which appears to be painted on the outside with white petals and on the inside with red petals, is a tour de force of white murrhines coated on the inside with melted red glass beads.

Working in Murano factories for so many years as a member of a team made Mr. Ohira sensitive to the roles of everyone in the production process. ''I am a foreign guest of this community,'' he said. ''My works are made by my hosts, the master glassmakers at the Anfora factory who work with me on each piece.''

To acknowledge this collaboration, the designer took the unusual step of asking Mr. Serena and Mr. Barbini to add their signatures to his on the pieces they produce. ''By signing my name only, I would be deceiving whoever acquires my works,'' he said. ''We so-called artists or designers of glass must always ask ourselves: 'Who gave us these forms? Who gave us these surfaces?' They should share the credit for what they make.''

Mr. Ohira began painting and drawing when he was 6 and later, at the urging of his parents, studied fashion design at the Kuwasawa Design School in Tokyo. They hoped he would join the family business, manufacturing women's clothes, which his mother designed and his father produced. But in 1969, after completing his studies, he followed a dream he had had since he was a boy and became a glass blower at the Kagami Crystal Company there. Four years later, after seeing a television show on Murano, he went to Venice to study sculpture. Within a few months he was working part-time in Murano, which he continued to do while studying for the next five years.

Several of the newer pieces in the show reveal his painterly instincts, especially a black and red pear-shaped vase from 2001, a work that looks like something by an Abstract Expressionist artist.

''Perhaps I will continue to develop my painterly work,'' he said. ''I always compose images in my head that I have never painted but may realize in the future. But for me the most important things I do in glass are experiments. I made that vase last year, and my next approach may be quite different. I always want to find something new in my glass. Today I made four pieces, and each one was different from all the others. They were all experiments, and that is exciting.''"

Reif, R. "From Glass Dreams, A Dazzling Reality." September 22, 2002. The New York Times. accessed August 9, 2009. http://www.nytimes.com/2002/09/22/arts/art-architecture-from-glass-dreams-a-dazzling-reality.html

GlassStress in NYT

2009 Roderick Conway Morris:

"VENICE — Glass has unique illusionistic possibilities, making it, in theory, an ideal medium for artistic expression. Yet modern artists have experimented with it only intermittently. However, as two exhibitions in Venice reveal, glass is now being taken up by an increasingly wide spectrum of contemporary artists.

In 1972, glass ceased to have its own section at the Venice Biennale, when the inclusion of what were considered “decorative arts” was abandoned. But at this year’s event, glass has made a comeback in two separate shows: “Glasstress,” an official parallel exhibition at Palazzo Cavalli Franchetti on the Grand Canal, and “Fa come natura face in foco,” which borrows a line from Dante’s Divine Comedy (“Do as nature does in the flame”) to evoke the fiery glass furnaces of Murano, at the Padiglione Venezia in the Biennale’s Castello Gardens (both until Nov. 22).

[...]

In 1971, Duchamp’s cones, an element in “Large Glass,” inspired Richard Hamilton’s “Sieves (with Marcel Duchamp),” in which the artist creates the appearance of conical objects arching freely through the air by painting them on a plate of glass barely visible from a distance.

Hamilton’s piece is one of a number of works in “Glasstress” that use glass to play with our perceptions of reality, posing some entertaining and thought-provoking conceptual conundrums.

[...]

Robert Rauschenberg’s “Untitled” (1971), a pair of clear blown-glass car tires, represents an amusing departure from his usual modus operandi. Rauschenberg’s sculptures were typically constructed out of scrap metal and found objects from junkyards (of the kind featured in the current “Gluts” show at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection on the other side of the Grand Canal from Palazzo Cavalli Franchetti). But these tires have an almost ghostly, dreamlike unreality.

Ms. Peabody’s “My Sidewalk” (2009), a mysterious, occluded narrative installation, is composed of paving stones made of mirrors on which she has engraved images of childhood objects and memories — a comb, a teddy bear, a manhole cover. But the last paving stone is shattered to fragments, suggesting perhaps dissolution and broken hopes. Mona Hatoum in her “Nature Morte aux Grenades” (2006-7) has covered a table with what from a distance look like rather cheerful colored-glass ornaments, but which on closer inspection turn out to be hand grenades.

Bizarre, esoteric, but curiously engaging: that describes the South Korean artist Hye Rim Lee’s “Crystal City Spun,” a 3-D video animation, where glass objects and their reflections are perfectly digitally crafted, but entirely illusory. The balletic performance they put on, to pulsing music, features Toki, a pirouetting dancer in vertiginous stiletto heels with an impossibly pneumatic figure; and a friendly dragon, backed by a spinning chorus of bouncing pink glass rabbits, vibrators and other phallic sex aids.

[...]

Visitors to “Fa come natura face in foco” at the Padiglione Venezia are greeted by Dale Chihuly’s flamboyantly colorful “Mille Fiori Venezia,” an open-air installation of weird and wonderful forms, made up of around 500 individual pieces of glass. In a side room off the main gallery is a display of groundbreaking historic objects by some of the most innovative glass artists of the first half of the 20th century, notably Vittorio Zecchin, Napoleone Martinuzzi, Carlo Scarpa and Ercole Barovier.

Outstanding among the new exhibits in the main pavilion show are those by Yoichi Ohira. [...] In his “Submerged Crystal” series here, which he describes as “sunk vases in thick clear crystal,” he creates intriguing impressions of one vessel suspended in another, an ethereal illusion of precarious equilibrium that could only be created in glass.

Fa come natura face in foco. Padiglione Venezia, Castello Gardens, Venice. Through Nov. 22."

Excerpted From:

Morris, R.C. "Contemporary Reflections in Glass." August 7, 2009. The New York Times. website accessed August 9, 2009. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/08/arts/08iht-biennale.html

Friday, August 7, 2009

Photo of the Day

Ziemke Glass Blowing Studio sign, Vermont

Bellingham Glass

images from http://sites.google.com/site/shortbusglassstudio/

2009 Miranda Skar:

"The Short Bus Glass studio was created in the spring of 2008 by glass artists Miranda and Joseph Skar.

They built the studio into a fully functioning mid-80s short school bus they purchased specifically for the project.

Miranda and Joe began learning the art back in 2001, when they met a pair of glass artists. They began to watch on a constant basis, studying and learning all the skills and processes involved with the complicated art form.

Soon, Miranda began blowing glass, and learning a life-long skill that continues to enrapture her to this day. Miranda focuses on hollow glass techniques; creating unique jars and other assorted vessels has become her specialty. Miranda’s work is one of a kind and innovative.

Joe began melting glass a couple of years after Miranda. He had a unique vision and the drive to learn. Focusing on sculptural glass techniques, Joe has gone his own direction with the art, creating excellent marbles, pendants, paperweights and a variety of other sculpture-based glass art.

Now married, Joe and Miranda share the love of glass art as well as love for each other.

The Short Bus Glass studio is parked in the foothills of Mt. Baker in beautiful Bellingham. The serene atmosphere and clean mountain air provide inspiration and motivation for Joe and Miranda to continue making their excellent glass creations."

Skar, M. "Short Bus Glass: a couple's love for the art of glass." Ferndale Record-Journal, Whatcom County. August 6, 2009. website accessed August 7, 2009. http://www.ferndalerecordjournal.com/index.php?goto=2009-08-06%2011:40:43&section=business


Sunday, August 2, 2009

1917

That you could make your living off of your own art is the goal of many glassblowers. That you must also, in order to eat, produce glasses, vases, lighting, and Christmas ornaments is the truth. That this production element is non-compatible with an artistic identity is an issue that should be addressed.

C.R. Ashbee saw that the relationship between independent artists and their buyer/patrons was parasitical, but the relationship between the factory worker and the factory owner was no better, so he sought to find a middle ground. The worker would form a small democratic guild to produce artisan craft through. They would retain creative control of the production and they would teach each other the handicraft skills. This would create a slow revolution towards a more equal society.
"
The Guild was, in short, original. It was shaped by a young man of twenty-five, working without any professional or much family support, trying to give a practical shape to four or five years of speculation. [...] 'I must create a system or be enslaved by another man's', he quoted [Blake]."

"The element of culture is not uppermost in the workshops of the Guild, for Ashbee would insist, and rightly, that they were about craft and earning a living, and not, like an art gallery, about works of art and improving leisure. But essentially the Guild was an attempt to enrich the lives of working men through the values of art in the broadest sense."

Crawford, Alan. "C.R. Ashbee: architect, designer, and romantic socialist." Yale University, 2005. http://books.google.com/books?id=1lOjhlQuGPQC&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q=&f=false

1917 C.R. Ashbee:

"The Pre-Raphaelite inspiration, when it touched other things than painting, led inevitably to the Arts and Crafts movement. But to make this movement, as the men of the eighties of the last century understood it, an effective movement, there was needed also a strong social impetus. Thus it had altruism as well as aesthetics behind it.

The men who preached its gospel were not less strong for the enthusiasm that inspired their work. The working craftsman, said they, the man who could make beautiful things with his hands, was down-trodden; give him a chance, he would make beautiful things again. Talent only needed to be brought to light. Let the craftsman be his own designer, let there be no more 'ghost work,' no more sham Art produced in factories. There was a great want for the beautiful and simple products of the hand again; and if a society, 'The Arts and Crafts Society,' could only be formed having this principle, it would revolutionize Modern Industry.

The society was formed--it did not revolutionize Industry. It was formed not in England only, but in Europe and America. One of its most successful outcomes was the 'Boston Arts and Crafts' in Massachusetts. Its most logical and consistent development has been the co-ordinated workshops of Munich and Vienna.
Numbers of men and women who would have been easel painters on the one hand, or absorbed into factory production on the other, turned their attention to what were discovered to be new materials--wood, stone, clay, glass, silver, iron. There was a fresh and vigorous creative outburst. Heywood Sumner's Hunting Tapestry, woven on the Meron looms, is an example of this, or Lawrie's delightful grotesques at West Point in Virginia [...] They are the work of men and women who were made by the Arts and Crafts movement, or were inspired by its principles.

But the Arts and Crafts movement, though it did not revolutionize Modern Industry, made a great social discovery: it rediscovered the small workshop. In so doing it gave us a new historical generalization.

We used to be taught as children that the real dividing line in history was for us in England the Norman Conquest, for the French the Revolution, for the Americans the War of Independence; but the real division between the past and future has been the nineteenth century, when the Industrial Revolution was being worked out. It was then that the social order that had been in existence for over a thousand years--the order that still exists in the Orient--was destroyed. With the coming of mechanical power and the displacement of the hand by the machine, the conditions of human life were changed--the home and woman's portion of it, man's labour, his relation to society, his conception of right and wrong. The history of every country for a thousand years has no fact so important as the change from domestic to factory industry. The disappearance of the small workshop, with the Guild system that regulated human labour and set its standards of quality of life and in the work of man's hands, is more far-reaching than any religious or dynastic change. But the Arts and Crafts movement made the discovery that it was only in the small hand workshop that those things could be had again for which that movement stood.

It is not alone the Elizabethan translator of the Bible who points to the significance of the workshop structure of society. What the seventeenth century found as a fact had been a fact also in the ages of Solomon. It is not the intellectual things only that count. The man that puts his trust in his hand is of them who maintain the fabric of the world. 'So is every artificer and workmaster, that passeth his time by night as by day; they that cut gravings of signets, and his diligence is to make great variety, he will set his hear to preserve likeness in his portraiture, and will be thankful to finish his work. So is the smith standing by the anvil and considering the unwrught furnace will he wrestle with his work; the noise of the hammer will set his heart upon perfecting his works, and he will be thankful to adorn them perfectly. So is the potter sitting at his work, and turning his wheel about with his feet, who is always anxiously set at his work, and all his handiwork is by number; he will fashion the clay with his arms, and will bend its strength in front of his feet; he will apply his heart to finish the glazing, and he will be wakeful to make clean the furnace. All these put their trust in their hands and each becometh wise in his own work. Without them shall no city be inhabited, and men shall not sojourn nor walk up and down therein. They shall no be sougth for in the council of the people, and in the assembly they shall not mount on high; they shall not sit in the seat of the judge, and they shall not understand the covenant and where parables are shall they not be found. But they shall maintain the fabric of the world; and in the handiwork of their craft is their prayer.' (Ecclesiasticus xxxviii, 27-34)

The nineteenth century, in destroying the workshop structure of society, changed all this, and the Arts and Crafts movement set itself to undermining the work of the nineteenth century. It sought to bring back again the quality of prayer, to find out what the new fabric of the world was to be.
"

Ashbee, C.R. "Where the Great City Stands." 1917 The Essex House Press, London. pp 11-13. transcripted by ABJ seattleglassonline.

Photo of the Day

2004 Hyunsung Cho:


Instinct, 2004. Photo Credit: www.hyungsungcho.com

Saturday, August 1, 2009

"American Glass"

Hsinchu Municipal Glass Museum website on "American Glass":

"United States of America is the country established on the land of Native Indians by European colonists. Glassware such as window glass, lamps, cups and bottles were commodities to colonists. It was said that in 1621, four Italian glass craftsmen from London England began producing glassware in this new colony. However, the major products were not glass lamps or bottles, but beads for the Indians. Later colonists from different countries then made different types of glassware. As time went on and the population became a mix of varied ethnic groups, this new country formed a continental lifestyle. As a result, the types of glassware and the techniques used to make them melded together and eventually became known as American glass. In the late eighteenth century this glass was characterized by its simple and straight- forward diamond engraving. It was also common to find glass which had continuous daisy patterns produced by using mold-blowing techniques. The symbol of capitalism began in 1739 by Germany Caspar Westar. He established the first glass factory to produce flat glass, glass containers and table-ware in the south of New Jersey. A pressed glass factory, established in 1825, used steel molds to mass produce glassware by using machine pressing techniques."

Unknown. "American Glass." Hsinchu Glass Museum website. accessed August 1, 2009. http://glassmuseum.cca.gov.tw/web-EN/unit02/modepage/2-13.html