Glass
This page features my flameworked glass beads, which I made from the late 80’s until 2002. I used metal foils to create all the colors on the surface of the glass, a technique I’m still using in some of my enamel work today.
I discovered glass in 1978 while I was still working as a criminal trial lawyer. I left law practice not long after that and glass became the artistic focus of my life. In my architectural stained glass business, I explored just about everything I could do with glass and heat: slumping into molds, fusing, making and coloring my own glass in the kiln, casting, and sandwiching metal foils between fused glass.
In the 80’s, the glass aesthetic emphasized seductiveness: intense colors, transparency, light going through it in a myriad of ways. Bigger was better, the goal was to knock your socks off. But I saw glass as more translucent and mysterious, like the agate and chert pebbles you’d find on a beach. (Quartz is just silicon dioxide: glass in its purest form.) Occasionally there were things coming out of my kiln that had the appearance of more neutral colored stone-like materials. I wanted more of that.
I experimented in the torch with colors derived from copper, silver, iron and gold on the surface, and started making glass beads. Beads provided a small canvas that could let me do whole range of color and visual texture experiments in a few hours. The idea of “visual hybrid” began to emerge, something that was definitely glass but resembled other materials too.
Most of my early beads had a satin surface and were very tactile. They were designed to be explored with the fingers as well as the eyes.
When I started coloring my beads with metal foils, I worked with a neutral palette of colors and a “pebble” theme. The glass was pressed into various asymmetrical shapes using handmade brass molds.
Later the beads became more structured and regular in shape. I started working much larger, so there were more opportunities to explore pattern. I also began to incorporate more gold.
Eventually I began making one of a kind beads on stainless steel tubing which left a large hole when the bead was completed. These took the form of large donuts and taller “vessel” forms. I also started overlaying thin blown colored shards over each other.
All of my colors had been developed on white glass, but now I wanted to see them on black beads. The metals wouldn’t color black glass in the same way, so I used tissue thin colored shards that were almost invisible on the black. They accepted the metal colorants differently, and created a patchwork of neutral colors on a black background. In addition, black glass does ethereal things with silver and heat, so there were many additional colors I could achieve with just a few ingredients and by varying the atmosphere in the torch. Colors could be nudged in a direction but not completely controlled.
The 15 year period that I made beads was in the heyday of the “art vs. craft” debate. I thought a lot about the value of beads as an art form, because it seems they’re commercialized more than almost any other craft, the bottom of the food chain. But a tiny object with a hole is a universal human creation. The earliest known “beads” are over 40,000 years old, and every known culture has made them, often inscribing them with some important iconography. By making beads I felt I was wading into an ancient cultural river. There’s an intimacy and power in beads that few other objects possess - they have a strange hold on us.
I made my last flameworked beads in 2002, putting aside my torch to focus on photographic imagery in copper with champlevé enamels - glass in another form. But I’m still drawn to beads, and the magic of coloring glass with metal foils.