You have just published The Joy of Coldworking. Please tell us a little about the book and how you came to write it.

My book on coldworking was conceived by Brad and Jody Walker, who run the Warm Glass web site ( www.warmglass.com). They had originally asked me to write a book on the Roll Up, a process for blowing prefused-glass tiles that was developed by Klaus Moje. I was in Australia on a Fulbright Scholarship, and I was part of Klaus’ team while he was developing this process, which I actually began to use in my own work. Alas, as I got into the Roll Up book project it didn’t seem like it was going to go all that far. It just didn’t seem like the time to write that book yet.

So instead, Brad and Jody came up the idea for a book on coldworking. They thought it was a niche that really hadn’t been filled at all. There are a number of books on very specific aspects of coldworking, but no general overview of all the processes. Brad had written and published his book, Contemporary Warm Glass, and I thought “this is a great opportunity.” I didn’t necessarily feel like an “expert” on the subject, but I knew I’d had enough instruction and experience with coldworking that I’d be able to put together an informative and interesting work for publication.

How long did the book take to research and write?

Overall, it took 15 months from its genesis to its publication. There were a few stretches of time where I didn’t do much writing of the book. I just let it languish since it seemed worthwhile to take some breaks and come back with fresh eyes. Plus, I am a slightly dyslexic typist, so I was constantly typing five or six letters and then having to back up and delete two or three. Though the book is about 80,000 words, I actually wrote many, many more. I was also the one who had to do most of the editing. Brad and Jody Walker were helpful in certain aspects of editing the book, but they couldn’t necessarily correct some of the technical processes that I was referring to. There weren’t many other sources to turn to, so I would return to the book after a few weeks and at that point it seemed that someone else had written it so I could just tear right into it. I’m so grateful that I live in the age of computers and didn’t have to cut and paste all these things from the typewriter.

"White Noise" vessel and panel.
I made sets of large panels and vessels for a couple of years.
Fused and blown Roll Up, wheel cut, 2004, panel 26x16x6 inches, vessel 11x5x5 inches

The research aspect for me was one of the best parts of writing a book.  I learned about things that were related to the topic of coldworking, but not necessarily relevant for publication. It was fascinating to see the relationship of seemingly disparate elements -- did you know that aluminum oxide (aka carborundum, an abrasive material for grinding glass) is also a combustion by-product from a solid-propellant rocket motor?  There were loads interesting things that were not included in the book.   I really treasured this part of the writing process

Basically you were on your own for this project?

Oh, yes. It’s funny -- after my book was published I spoke with some friends who are also writing books, and they said, “We get together with our writing group to work through passages and do editing for one another.” And I’m thinking, “Crikey, I wish I had a writing group!”

It was interesting how you approached the subject, focusing on each piece of equipment that could possibly be in the coldworking studio, how it is used, the safety implications, which I really appreciate because people don’t understand that aspect…it’s not so obvious, how to work with the equipment for best results, and the maintenance. You were very, very thorough. In other words, you started with the equipment and what it could do rather than starting with the technique, and then mentioning the equipment used, which is the usual way these instructional tend to go. So how did you come upon this way of working?

For me, safety was first and foremost. I have worked in many shops with all sort of coldworking equipment, and I know just how dangerous some of the machines can be. Sometimes one may just grind a fingernail down too far, which is painful but not catastrophic. But then there are always those tales of someone getting very seriously injured. So I wanted to emphasize that the most successful coldworking is safe coldworking.

I thought I’d begin writing by talking about the safety aspects of each piece of coldworking equipment -- many of which have strong motors and are fairly dangerous tools if used improperly. From that point on, I started to elaborate on the use of each tool and what you could do with them. This format seemed to offer a good focus, talking about the equipment and what could be done with it rather than trying to write about a specific process and which tools could be used for it. It’s difficult to teach processes from a book -- you actually need to be there with the glass piece it in your hands with somebody showing you how to do that process. But a book can explore the possibilities of coldworking and can lay down some of the ground rules for grinding. And I realized that not every coldshop has each and every tool in the book. I wanted to allow people to approach the book and ask, “I only have a tile saw and a flat grinder. What can I do with these tools?”

As you mentioned earlier, you received a Fulbright to study at Canberra School of Art in Australia. From your book it was obvious that Stephen Proctor was your mentor there. Even if you didn’t realize it before going down, once you were there, he obviously became your mentor. What was your reason for studying with him, for studying in Canberra, and how has that influenced the direction of your art?

Ever since I first went to Pilchuck in 1990, I had seen many Australian glassmakers who were doing very exceptional work. I worked with Mikela Brown in 1991, Ben Edols in 1993 at Haystack and had seen Brian Hirst, Nick Mount, Scott Chaseling, and Sophie Emmett at Pilchuck and at some GAS conferences. In witnessing just those few artists, I knew something special was going on in Australia. I could not put my finger on exactly what it was, but I felt a desire to go there and find out.

My application for the Fulbright was not specifically for Canberra (pronounced “can-brrr-ah”), but fortunately that is where I ended up since I knew I’d be learning something quite different from what I’d been exposed to here in the ‘states. It was a life-transforming event to go down to Australia and work at Canberra with Stephen Proctor and Jane Bruce and Kirstie Rea, who were running the Workshop then. Some of the recent students and graduates of Canberra were Claudia Borella, Jessica Loughlin, Giles Bettison, and Tom Moore, and their legacies were also influential to me.

While I was down there, I was asked to help Klaus Moje on his Roll Up project in the hot shop, where Scott Chaseling and Kirstie Rea would pick up large, flat fused-glass tiles and blow them into stunning vessels. This was an amazing way to work with fused glass, and it produced an aesthetic that I’d previously never really seen -- a multicolor cross section of glass, very different from the layers of clear glass that is seen in most blown glass.

Working with Klaus was remarkable -- his vision was so strong, and he knew that we’d lose some pieces as we worked out the bugs in the technique. We would often pick up 12x16” tiles that were first heated in the kiln and then flashed in the glory hole. There was a team of eight people to produce this work, and we eventually succeeded in making his work, which turned into the ‘Nijima’ series, which we demonstrated at the 1998 GAS conference in Japan.

I became enamored of this Roll Up process and began to develop a whole body of work around it. I learned how to fuse and to work with Bullseye glass in the hot shop. Later, I returned to America and continued on this body of work and began to teach the Roll Up process over here. I enjoy this process immensely since it is a very exciting mix of kilnforming and glassblowing that is still relatively unexplored.

“Breccias NZ" were from a commission for some black and white pieces that I made in New Zealand at Gloria Hot Glass, the studio of Ruth Allen.
Enclamo fused glass Roll Up, wheel cut, linished (belt sanded), acid polished, 1999, tallest 10".

Before your Fulbright you focused on glassblowing. Australia is not known for its blown work the way Italy is, so what took you to Australia?

It was really some of the people mentioned previously who I had met at Pilchuck and Haystack that inspired me to look into Australia. I think it was their commitment to the Craft, with a capital C, that intrigued me. There was an emphasis on perfecting technique in the service of aesthetic, design, concept, and art. It was a different outlook than I had encountered before. In Australia, there is not such a great divide between craft and art, so a functional piece can be just as much a piece of art as a painting or sculpture can be. The thing that helps to elevate the functional item is that it is well crafted, meaning well made, well designed, and coming from a thoughtful place. And it’s not that glasswork over here is done in a different manner, but a functional piece often gets poo-pooed into being “just an item of craft (with small ‘c’). Just look at how some institutions have removed Craft from their names -- it did not seem like Australia had this issue as much. They’ve got more of a European outlook, which helped to redefine my relationship to functional objects.

When you were there were you also coldworking these pieces?

Oh, yes! Stephen Proctor, who was the Head of Workshop at Canberra and my instructor, would not really look a piece of glass that did not have the outer surface somehow coldworked: wheelcut, belt sanded, coldworked, whatever it was. There needed to have some kind of finish to it. Otherwise it was just shiny glass that was not yet finished in his eyes. So I got a crash course on a lot of different kinds of coldworking while I was there, a style of working that I hadn’t spent much time doing previously. Stephen was very concerned that we worked to transform the objects we made, to imbue them with the latent and subtle qualities of the glass -- such as light and depth -- through the coldworking process

What years were you there?

1998-2000. During that time, I started to work with the Bullseye glass -- which is used extensively in Australia. In my previous ten years of glassmaking, I had not really worked with the Bullseye glass since I had not seen much exciting fusing work done with it at the time. Looking back, I know now that what turned me off from so much of the fused glass of the time was the lack of coldworking -- eg, sloppy edges and uninteresting surfaces that characterized some of the work back then.

Did the emphasis on coldworking originate with Klaus Moje?

The Glass Workshop at the Canberra School of Art was started by Klaus Moje in the 1980’s. Klaus’ background was as a glass engraver, and he branched off to explore fusing and kilnforming. This research led him to work with Bullseye Glass Company to help launch a line of fusing compatible sheet glass. In the 1980’s, Klaus moved to Canberra to start the Glass Workshop there at the Australian National University. He brought his coldworking skills as well as his kilnforming skills to the program there.

Stephen Procter was asked to head the program after Klaus left. Stephen brought an even stronger emphasis of coldworking to the Glass Workshop, and his legacy can be seen in the work of his students. I was there at the perfect time while Stephen was really making the program shine, and Klaus was using the some of the facilities of the Workshop to develop his blown, fused-glass Roll Up work. I was very fortunate to have been there during that time and to have been able to work with so many amazing people then. And in all honesty, I almost did not return to the ‘states.

To be continued in the next issue.

[Susan Longini]