Twelve-Arm Cut Glass Chandelier Now on View

Posted on December 27, 2012 by Mandy Kritzeck

A recently acquired twelve-armed cut glass chandelier was installed this month in the Museum’s crossroads, at the intersection of the Contemporary Glass Gallery and the Glass Collection Galleries.

The ceiling where the chandelier was installed is above a two-story opening to the ground floor. Our preparators are no strangers to scaling great heights to install and de-install glass artworks, and were able to hang the delicate object piece by piece by using a lift.

The chandelier hangs over an opening to the ground floor and a lift was needed to install.

Crafted around 1760-1765, the Museum’s chandelier with twelve arms is one of the most intact examples of an English cut glass chandelier from that time period. The chandelier has all of its original arms and drip pans, a rare occurrence as these parts were often easily broken or damaged.

Museum preparators Fritz Ochab and Stefan Zoller carefeully install each drip plate.

Museum preparators Fritz Ochab and Stefan Zoller carefully install each drip plate.

In the 18th century, the English chandelier became an important decorative component within the elegant interiors in the homes of the nobility. This style of chandelier grew out of a 17th-century desire for spectacular lighted centerpieces that were originally constructed from rock crystal. Glass was more accessible and affordable than rock crystal, and it could be just as stunning when it was properly cut and illuminated.

Additional arms wait in carts to be put back together while Warren Bunn and Stephen Hazlett watch on as Fritz attaches an arm onto the hanging chandelier body.

A significant enhancement to the basic form of this chandelier was the use of finely executed decorative cutting on all of its elements. The cutting amplified the reflective qualities of the glass and made the entire assemblage a beautiful and glittering addition to an interior space. Watch how this technique was done in this video on lathe cutting.

Another similar chandelier of this period hangs in Independence Hall in Philadelphia. Dated around 1745-55, it differs in arm and stem configuration, but has twelve arms and is cut in a similar fashion to the Museum’s recent acquisition.

Chandelier with Twelve Arms, European, England, about 1760-1765. Blown, cut, and assembled. Overall H: about 125 cm, Diam (max): about 107 cm (2012.2.8) View the full record in the Collections Browser: http://www.cmog.org/artwork/chandelier-twelve-arms

Holiday Glass Around the World

Posted on December 24, 2012 by Mandy Kritzeck

Inspired by our ornament tree here at The Corning Museum of Glass, students at the Nuutajärvi Glass Village in Finland created their own hand-blown glass ornament tree to celebrate the season and the tradition of glassblowing.

The Finnish glass ornament tree

Nuutajärvi is home to Finland’s oldest glass factory, and is where the Toikka glass birds are made. Sara Hulkkonen, glassblowing teacher at the Tavastia Vocational Institute in Nuutajärvi, stated:

The tree was built up for the first time and will be shown at a craft fair in Tampere, Finland. Later, hopefully before the snow comes, we can install it in our glass village in Nuutajärvi where it will be a milestone for our jubilee next year. In 2013 it will be 220 years since the glass factory was started in Nuutajärvi and 20 years since the start of the glass education in the village…The project has been wonderful and we feel that it has made the glass community grow stronger.

The tree is made up of almost 1500 ornaments, and the frame was crafted by the school’s metal students. Congratulations to the students in Nuutajärvi, and happy holidays!

Making Ideas: Harry Allen

Posted on December 21, 2012 by Mandy Kritzeck

This past summer, we invited designers featured in Making Ideas: Experiments in Design at GlassLab to come to the Museum for public design performances. Industrial designer Harry Allen’s work includes a line of products cast from real life, including a piggy bank and roller skate. He explored casting glass in antique waffle irons at the Museum last year, and came to his GlassLab sessions with fresh ideas to try.

Allen has worked with GlassLab previously at Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum and Design Miami in 2008. At the Glass Art Society Conference in Toledo, Ohio, in June, Allen and a full team of glassblowers explored new ideas including three-part vases, stacking rocket ship containers, exploding bowls, a fern coil vase, and narrow standing circular vases. Allen also continued his design of blown glass bowls with the molded imprint of the designer’s hands.

Hot glass is blown onto a mold of the designer’s hands to create a bowl at GlassLab at the Glass Pavilion in Toledo, June 2012.

In August, Allen returned to the Museum for his fifth GlassLab design session, a collaboration with Chris Hacker, chief design officer for Johnson & Johnson.

Chris Hacker and Harry Allen at GlassLab in Corning, NY, August 21-22, 2012.

“I’m excited to be here,” said Hacker, “Harry and I have worked together for most of our careers, although we’ve never collaborated quite in this way.” The designers explored making color bands and texture bands that were joined together to form cylindrical vases.

Prototypes and design drawings by Harry Allen and Chris Hacker for their GlassLab design session.

Allen and Hacker also created a series of vessels using blocks molded with the texture of carpet squares. These objects were included in a charity auction to support the Design Industry Foundation Fighting Aids (DIFFA).

Currently, Allen is working with the Museum on the exhibition design for Life on a String: 35 Centuries of the Glass Bead, opening in May 2012. Before then, be sure to check out his design prototypes on view in Making Ideas: Experiments in Design at GlassLab at the Museum through January 6, 2013.

More images from this summer’s design performances, as well as designer bios, process videos, design drawings, prototypes and more are available on the web-based GlassLab app at cmog.org/glasslab.

Winner announced for Donà Tools giveaway in honor of Elio Quarisa

Posted on December 19, 2012 by Mandy Kritzeck

Vermont glass artist Ethan Bond-Watts has been selected to receive the set of 14 glassblowing tools donated to The Studio in memory of Elio Quarisa by Roberto Donà, toolmaker and owner of Carlo Donà.

Filigrana Goblets by Ethan Bond-Watts

In his thoughtful tribute, Ethan remembered the maestro’s words of encouragement.

You are my student. And now you will make the glass. And in the future, you will be the teacher and you will have students. You will teach for them like I teach for you. This is how we learn glass in Venice for a thousand years.” He pauses to let it sink in. “Now, it is your turn, in America.” He smiles, with pride, with humility.

The judges selected Ethan’s entry out of the thirty-two submissions received from artists across the world who shared their work along with stories and memories of the beloved teacher. In his submission, titled Il Maestro Mio Ethan shared great memories from Elio’s lessons on glass, and life.

“Proud, very proud,” Elio pulls back his shoulders and puffs up his chest. He lowers his chin, “but humble, always humble.” He is modeling the “drago,” the dragon that carries the cup on so many of his goblets. “For the swan,” he continues, “multo delicato,” this time it’s in the hands and wrists. He makes two dainty A-OK’s, and tilts them up as he lowers his arms, forming two tiny winglets at his waist. I am amazed at how convincingly a muscular 70-year-old Italian man can go into character as the mythological archetype of femininity and grace. “Please… I show you,” he silently whips an iron out of the pipe warmer. He takes his gather, the light and heat of the furnace make his face glow.

Horse Cornucopia by Ethan Bond-Watts

“His wonderful narrative of his experiences with Elio brought him alive for me again,” said one of the contest judges. “For the wonderful way he shared “Elio-isms,” through his numerous, sensitive description of Elio’s looking at glass, love and life, Ethan captured Elio’s essence. I think Elio would laugh and say “Bravo, Ethan.”

Elio and Sam, shared by Nikolaj Christensen of East Falls Glassworks, Philadelphia

“I want to thank everyone who sent in their memories.” said Amy Schwartz, director of The Studio, “The community that Elio created through glass and teaching was special. It was a privilege to help students connect with Elio and I am glad to see that community continue on in his memory here at The Studio.”

To read Ethan’s submission, as well as the others written in memory of Elio, visit the Remembering Elio page on The Corning Museum of Glass’ Flickr photostream.

Of Ants and Alcohol: Adventures in Early Microscopy

Posted on December 17, 2012 by Megan McGovern

Early use of the microscope was plagued by several issues, especially the artisanal and imprecise nature of lens grinding. There was no scientific means of producing and evaluating lenses until Ernst Abbe (1840-1906) developed them in the 1870s. Thus, lens grinding was frequently a trial-and-error process. Before the early 19^th century, lenses often created blurry regions or color halos around the specimens being viewed. The first photomicrographs weren’t taken until the early 19^th century, which meant that early scientists had to draw what they were seeing through microscopes by hand. The challenges faced by the first microscopists are so legion, the title of a 2011 article by Francisc Szekely in the journal, Parergon, even begins, “Unreliable Observers, Flawed Instruments”!

The Rakow Library is fortunate to own one of the most famous books of early microscopy, Micrographia (1667), by Robert Hooke (1636-1703). This book (bibl 97629) is especially celebrated for its full-page, beautiful illustrations of objects Hooke examined under his microscope. These included linen and silk fabric, plant seeds and cross-sections, fungus, and striking images of insects like fleas, ants, head lice, and silverfish.

Illustration of 'blue mould' from Hooke's Micrographia. Image by the Rakow LIbrary.

Hooke also describes the many challenges he faced in his microscopic investigations, including one that caught me by surprise. Given my understanding of early microscopy, I expected all Hooke’s stories would be about making and grinding glass for his lenses. Instead, I turned a page and read about Hooke’s frustration when trying to view ants. The creatures would run off the stage and out of view or struggled so much when pinned in place by pincers that Hooke couldn’t get a good look at them. He tried killing some, but they shriveled quickly, making them (naturally) not life-like. What was a microscopist to do?

Here is Hooke’s solution:

Having insnar’d [ensnared] several of these [ants] into a small Box, I made choice of the tallest grown among them, and separating it from the rest, I gave it a Gill [approximately half a cup] of Brandy, or Spirit of Wine, which after a while e’en [even] knock’d him down dead drunk, so that he became moveless [motionless], though at first putting [the ant] in [the brandy] he struggled for a pretty while very much, till at last, certain bubbles issuing out of its mouth, it ceased to move; this ( because I had before found them quickly to recover again, if they were taken out presently [right away] ), I suffered to lye [lie] about an hour in the Spirit ; and after I had taken it out, and put its body and legs into a natural posture, remained moveless [motionless] about an hour;…

Picture of passage from Micrographia in which Hooke describes his method of inebriating the ants.

Passage from Micrographia, page 204. Image by the Rakow Research Library.

What Hooke is basically saying is that he figured out that putting his ant specimens in brandy for an hour knocked them out long enough for them to be examined under his microscope! Therefore, some of our first and best-known microscopic images of ants are actually of drunk ants.

Illustration of an ant from Hooke's Micrographia.

Illustration of a (presumably drunk) ant as seen under a microscope in Micrographia, page 203. Image by the Rakow Research Library.

This amusing anecdote highlights one of the wonderful things about studying the history of glass and glassmaking at the Rakow Research Library: frequently you also learn about other subjects, such as the history of science or the economics of an industry. And, every once in a while, you come across a tidbit like this that makes for great conversation at your next holiday dinner party.

Shiny Brite Christmas Ornaments

Posted on December 13, 2012 by Alexandra Ruggiero

Since it ‘tis the season, let’s take a brief look at the history of Christmas ornaments, as well as some ornaments within the Museum’s collection.

11 Shiny Brite Christmas Ornaments. Max Eckardt & Sons; Corning Glass Works. About 1938-1960. Machine made, enameled, silvered. 97.4.237

For centuries, the small German village of Lauscha, located in the Thuringian Mountains, was the center of glass ornament production. Creating handmade glass ornaments was a craft that involved the entire community: various groups of individuals were needed in order to complete different aspects of production.

Skilled glassblowers made delicate ornaments by heating glass tubes over a flame and then introducing a small ‘puff’ of air in order to expand the tube into a small bubble. The glass ornament was then left as it was or was manipulated into various shapes, such as stars or reindeer.

With the blowing and shaping of the ornament complete, it was sent to be decorated, a task often undertaken by women or children. This was accomplished either with a brush, by pouring liquids into the ornament’s interior, or simply by dipping the glass into a liquid color. After careful packing, the ornaments made in Lauscha were shipped and sold all over the world, including to the United States.

A closer view of two Shiny Brite glass bulbs. Max Eckardt & Sons; Corning Glass Works. About 1938-1960. Machine made, enameled, silvered. 97.4.237 A & 97.4.237 E

The Museum’s collection includes a number of traditional handcrafted and machine-made ornaments such as this set of eleven Shiny Brite ornaments made in Corning. The manufacture of Shiny Brite ornaments can be linked to the history of the Lauscha ornament industry through Shiny Brite’s entrepreneur Max Eckhart.

In 1926, Eckhart and his brother opened a toy and ornament factory in their birthplace of Oberlind, just twenty miles from Lauscha. After opening a branch in New York, Eckhart immigrated to the United States in the late 1920s. With the onset of World War II, Eckhart became apprehensive of how much longer Germany’s export production of glass ornaments would continue.

In 1937, he founded The Shiny Brite Company. During certain months of the year, a Corning Glass Works ribbon machine, originally used to make lightbulbs, produced these delicate ornaments. They were then sent to New Jersey for decorating before being packaged and sold. This proved to be a wise decision for Eckart: the outbreak of war, and later the location of Lauscha and Oberlind in what became East Germany, would end the exportation of ornaments from the Lauscha area to America until the mid 1950s.

Bell-shaped “Shiny Brite” glass ornaments. Max Eckardt & Sons; Corning Glass Works. About 1938-1960. Machine made, enameled, silvered. 97.4.237 K & 97.4.237 H

Bacon pizza and a cheeseburger goblet: John Miller at 2300°

Posted on December 12, 2012 by Mandy Kritzeck

At November’s 2300°: Americana, glass artist John Miller turned the Hot Glass Innovation Stage into a glass kitchen, crafting a goblet with a cheeseburger stem and a slice of hot glass pizza. I asked him about the experience and more about his work.

You’ve been to The Corning Museum of Glass before, right John?

The first time I came to the Museum was in 1994 and the Libenský/Brychtová show was up and it completely blew me away. I was just driving through town as a student. And I came to the Glass Art Society conference in 2000 and was asked to come back and teach at The Studio the following summer. Visiting the Museum gives me enough inspiration to last a year; till the next time I come back and then I can revitalize myself at the Library and everything.

Tell me about what you worked on at 2300° tonight

This evening we did a cheeseburger goblet, Venetian style, that we stuck all together hot. I think it was about 12 lbs. And then we did a slice of pepperoni and bacon pizza.

I have to ask – why bacon?

Everything has to be decadent. The work that I make; it can’t be good for you; even the lettuce kills me to put it on, when I’m putting it on the cheeseburger. So it had to be the meat lovers special, no green peppers or anything good like that –pineapple? No way. Has to be old-school American, diner style, everything has to be bad for you.

The cheeseburger goblet

Diner style is kind of your thing

When I was 5 or 6, I used to go a drive-in diner all the time with my father and it really became part of my personality and my upbringing. When I started making more sculptural work, I started to sketch crinkle-cut fries on napkins everywhere I went and I knew I had to make the work at some point. And it really just exploded. And, it’s a little bit of social commentary on the Route 66 Americana thing. I really embraced that and the whole hot rod scene and the 50’s scene is part of the whole thing.

Why is glass your medium for interpreting those cultures?

It was something, in the beginning, that was a challenge for me – just to try to be proficient. And then I started realizing with the sculptural work that I could freeze gesture and also use the color palette that glass offers in different ways than paint, ceramics, or print making offers. It’s just a way I can really replicate surfaces. Sandblast surfaces to soften them – like bread. And leave them shiny – like grease – on bacon and burgers and things like that. It’s a really versatile material for me and it’s really fun to work with.

When did you get started in glass?

I got started in 1987 at Southern Connecticut State University, and it was just a mistake. I walked into the glass studio because Bill Gudenrath was doing a demonstration. I had no idea who he was. I walked in and was blown away. I signed up for beginning glassblowing classes the next semester, and that was that; it was over.

And now you’re teaching at The Studio. You have a class this week.

It’s a very short three-day intensive class with six students. I’m going to scale everything down a little bit and what I’m going to concentrate on is the one-on-one. I’m going to let the students get used to the shop and then examine how they work with the material and then find out what they want to make and then help them execute that by demonstrations – it will be exciting.

John Miller with Marlo Cronquist during his three-day workshop. Photo provided by Marlo Cronquist.

Tell me more about tonight

People were pretty happy. You know, feed them some food and a few drinks and put them in front of some glassblowing and that is that. They love it. But they were yelling and screaming and clapping and we were throwing t-shirts out. I think it went well.

Did anything unexpected happen this evening?

Sure, we were taking off the cheeseburger goblet and it fell apart in our hands. We put it back in the kiln and it stuck back together. It happens – at least it didn’t hit the floor, but that’s more dramatic anyways! But everything else went nice and smoothly. It’s a beautiful shop, great assistants, and just a wonderful place to be in general.

Is there anything else you want to share with us?

I like to eat cappuccino beans on my cereal. Chocolate covered.

More glass from the workshop – an over-sized soda glass, key and doughnut. Photo provided by Marlo Cronquist.

See more photos from John’s 2300° show on Flickr: http://flic.kr/s/aHsjCS9Ne1

Corning Museum of Glass Acquires Rare American Glass Creamer

Posted on December 11, 2012 by Mandy Kritzeck

The Museum has acquired a rare, early 19th-century American blown-glass creamer for its comprehensive glass collection, which spans 35 centuries.

blue american glass creamer with a knop (hollow bubble in the stem) enclosing a 1794 U.S. cent coin

Cream Jug, United States, Philadelphia, PA, about 1800-1815. Overall H: 12.2 cm, W: 9.3 cm. Knop contains a copper 1794 American Liberty penny.

The small light blue creamer, which measures 12.6 cm high and 5.5 cm in diameter (rim), includes a knop (hollow bubble in the stem) enclosing a 1794 U.S. cent coin—a feature rarely found in American glass of this period. Often, coins included in hand-made glass objects were meant to commemorate a special date, such as an anniversary or birthday.

The creamer was given to Frank W. Hill by his grandmother, Abigail Ware Foote (b. 1819) on January 16, 1860. According to family tradition, it was originally a birthday present for Hill’s great-grandmother, Abigail Whitaker Ware (1781-1865) or her mother Ruth Whitaker. The piece was probably made in the early 1800s, likely at the glass works in Kensington, North Philadelphia. The name of the craftsman who made the creamer is not known. Descendants of Hill sold the piece at auction in August 2012.

“It’s highly unusual for an early American glass object of this caliber to survive and appear on the market,” says Jane Shadel Spillman, the Museum’s curator of American glass. “What’s even more unusual is that this creamer was held by the same family for more than 150 years, so its history is well-known. We are pleased to add this important object to our American glass collection.”

The Museum’s outstanding collection of American glass dating from the early 18th century to the mid-20th century includes more than 11,000 works. The collection showcases the history of American glass production ranging from rare early blown glass to mass-produced bottles and tableware, elaborately cut and engraved glass and decorative art glass.

There are two similar early American 19th-century creamers in the collection; one has a knop with Spanish coin dated 1781. The new blue creamer is now on view in the Museum’s American gallery.

The Osler Candelabrum and incipient crizzling

Posted on December 6, 2012 by Astrid van Giffen

We recently had parts of a huge candelabrum in the lab. The piece was made by the English glass company, F. & C. Osler, around 1883, and stands almost 10 feet tall. Luckily the whole object did not need to come to the lab; only the tulip shaped shades were brought so that they could be washed.

The Osler Candelabrum (96.2.10)

The candelabrum's shades waiting to be washed.

Some of the shades are replacements for missing original ones. These replacement shades are made from a different glass than the originals, one that has an unstable composition. They are in the first or incipient stage of a degradation process known as “crizzling,” sometimes referred to as glass disease.

Two of the candelabrum's shade. The original on the left is clear, while the replacement on the right has become hazy because of incipient crizzling.

Crizzling is affected by two main factors, the composition of the glass and the climate in which it is kept, especially the relative humidity. During the crizzling process, moisture in the air leaches out the alkali elements of the glass which accumulate on the surface. The alkalis on the surface attract more moisture, sometimes to the point of forming droplets on the surface. This symptom of incipient crizzling is known as “weeping.” If the climate is drier, the alkalis can form as crystals. The alkalis also turn the surface hazy and slimy and have a distinct smell which I like to describe as dusty vinegar. A buildup of alkalis on the surface not only looks bad, it is also bad for the glass because it creates an alkali solution that starts breaking down the silica network of the glass. If the crizzling continues, the structure of the glass is eventually so compromised that the glass falls apart. The composition of the glass plays a huge role in how long it takes to reach the final stage of crizzling. Usually it takes many centuries, but if the composition is really unstable the glass can disintegrate in just a few years.

One of the shades being washed. The conservation lab has a plastic sink for washing glass to help prevent damage from accidental bumps.

Unfortunately, there is no way to reverse the crizzling process; the best we can do is slow it down. We do this by washing the glass to remove the alkali buildup and by making sure crizzling objects are kept in a stable environment. Air circulation around the objects also helps evaporate moisture on the glass surface.

The replacement shades on the Osler Candelabrum turn hazy about every 5 years which is when we bring them into the lab and wash the alkalis off the surface. The washing is done with tap water and a mild, conservation grade detergent, followed by thorough rinsing in de-ionized water to remove the minerals left by the tap water. The original shades were a little dirty, so we washed those as well.

The clean shades back on the candelabrum in the galleries.

More on crizzling: http://www.cmog.org/article/crizzling
View the Osler Candelabrum in the collections browser: http://www.cmog.org/artwork/candelabrum-0

Karol Wight Joins Association of Art Museum Directors

Posted on December 4, 2012 by Corning Museum of Glass

The Association of Art Museum Directors (AAMD) is a professional group with the mission to promote the role of art museums throughout North America, cultivate leadership in the field and communicate standards of excellence in museum practice. Membership in the association is based on the qualifications of both the individual director and the specific art museum. In June, AAMD chose the Museum’s executive director, Karol Wight, to become a member of the organization.

“Everything that the Corning Museum does matches the purpose of AAMD to increase the contributions of art museums to society,” says Wight. “This membership will allow us to more strongly network with other museums, and to broaden the recognition of The Corning Museum of Glass and its collections.”

Wight plans to become active in the association’s committees and meetings, using her experience at The Corning Museum of Glass and also from the experience she gained previously as senior curator of antiquities at the J. Paul Getty Museum.

Corning Museum of Glass

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Monthly Archives: December 2012