Winter’s Frictional Electrical Machine

Around 1745, the German scientist Johann Heinrich Winkler demonstrated the effects of static electricity by electrifying his assistant, who was then handed a glass of brandy. As soon as he lifted the glass to his mouth, sparks would fly from his tongue and set the brandy on fire. The popularity of such performances, and the unexpected effects related to electricity, triggered the invention of various electrical friction machines—for private and public use—throughout the 18th century.

Winter Frictional Electrical Machine

Winter Frictional Electrical Machine, A. Pichler's Witwe & Sohn Lehrmittelanstalt, Austria, Vienna, 1875-1933. Glass, Cherry Wood, Brass. Static machine consisting of wood and glass framework, a glass disc, and a wooden hoop. Overall H: 125 cm. (2007.3.120)

The core feature of almost all of these devices was a piece of revolving glass that rubbed against fixed pads, thereby creating an electrical charge.

Leyden Jar

Leyden Jar (left)

The pads are connected to a cylinder-shaped negative conductor, while a hemispherical positive conductor almost touches the glass disk. The most conspicuous feature of this machine, an invention by the Austrian scientist Georg K. Winter, is the large wooden ring, which originally had a thick wire running through its center. The device did not aim for accumulating particularly high charges, but rather to generate long and dense sparks. Together with additional devices, such as a Leyden jar (a condenser that was invented in 1745), it probably served as a teaching tool for high school and college students learning about physics.

Twelve-Arm Cut Glass Chandelier Now on View

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.

Installing the chandelier in the Crossroads

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.

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.

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 ArmsChandelier 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

 

Gemmaux in the Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass

Earlier this year, Tina Oldknow, the Museum’s curator of modern glass, asked me to research 16 glass panels affixed to light boxes in the Museum’s permanent collection.   The panels, made in the 1950s and 1960s, came to the museum in 1993, and are called gemmaux.  I had no idea what gemmaux were when I began my research, but I was excited for the challenge.  I began my search by looking through the curatorial files on the objects in our collection.  I also was able to find information online through the Archives of American Art at the Smithsonian Institution and through the Rakow Research Library here at the Museum.

Gemmail (plural gemmaux) is a French word that is literally translated as “enamel gem.”  The term was coined by French painter Jean Crotti to describe a technique he developed for layering and adhering pieces of colored glass onto a panel in order to create compositions that are meant to be viewed in front of a light box or illuminated from behind.  Gemmaux were very popular in the late 1950s and 1960s. They were made by technicians called gemmistes at a Paris studio called Les Gemmaux de France.

Nature Morte aux Fleurs (Still Life with Flowers), Roger Bezombes, France, Paris, Les Gemmaux de France studio, about 1954, H: 64.8cm, W: 50.8 cm (93.3.15, gift of Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co.)

Nature Morte aux Fleurs (Still Life with Flowers), Roger Bezombes, France, Paris, Les Gemmaux de France studio, about 1954, H: 64.8cm, W: 50.8 cm (93.3.15, gift of Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co.)

Gemmistes used existing artwork by well-known artists, like Pablo Picasso and George Braque, to create re-interpretations of their work using the gemmail technique.  Sometimes these artists even came to the studio to sign the gemmaux when they were finished.  Young French painters also experimented with the technique.

Fifteen of the 16 gemmaux panels in the Museum’s collection were given by Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company as a gift in 1993.  These 15 panels were part of a 1962 traveling exhibition called Masterpieces in Glass organized by Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company to promote their fiberglass curtains.  The Rakow Research Library has two full-color 1961 advertisements for the Masterpieces in Glass exhibition that showcase the gemmaux alongside fiberglass curtains.  Each panel depicted is now in the Museum’s permanent collection.

A 1961 Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company advertisement depicting the gemmail panel Voiles Heureuses (Happy Sailing), Danielle Dhumez (French, b. 1910, d. unknown), France, Paris, Les Gemmaux de France studio, about 1957, H: 63.5 cm x W: 53.5 cm.  Winner of the “prix du gemmail” in 1957. (93.3.12, gift of Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co.).  (Rakow Library bibliographic record number 131015)

A 1961 Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company advertisement depicting the gemmail panel Voiles Heureuses (Happy Sailing), Danielle Dhumez (French, b. 1910, d. unknown), France, Paris, Les Gemmaux de France studio, about 1957, H: 63.5 cm x W: 53.5 cm. Winner of the “prix du gemmail” in 1957. (93.3.12, gift of Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co.). (Rakow Library bibliographic record number 131015).

A 1961 Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company advertisement depicting the gemmail panel, Nature Morte aux Fleurs (Still Life with Flowers), Roger Bezombes (French, 1913-1994), France, Paris, Les Gemmaux de France studio, about 1954, H: 64.75 cm x W: 50.75 cm.  (93.3.15, gift of Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co.)  (Rakow Library bibliographic record number 131016)

A 1961 Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company advertisement depicting the gemmail panel, Nature Morte aux Fleurs (Still Life with Flowers), Roger Bezombes (French, 1913-1994), France, Paris, Les Gemmaux de France studio, about 1954, H: 64.75 cm x W: 50.75 cm. (93.3.15, gift of Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co.) (Rakow Library bibliographic record number 131016)

Since I began my research, there has been a surge of public interest in this unusual mid-20th-century technique and the information I was able to uncover on the history of gemmaux has grown larger than a blog post can contain.  So I wrote an article called A Brief History of Gemmaux. It is a fascinating history!  You can also view all of the Museum’s gemmaux panels by using the online collections browser.

The ins and outs of the new curatorial loading dock

Things are never dull behind the scenes at the Museum. There is a constant stream of glass leaving the Museum on loan to be exhibited at other institutions, loans from other museums coming in, as well as new acquisitions to add to the permanent glass collection. Every year between 500 and a few thousand glass objects pass through our doors.

In 2012, the Museum will loan objects to exhibitions in the United States, Canada, Asia, Europe, and Australia. Receiving institutions include the National Museum of the American Indian in New York, NY, the Heard Museum in Phoenix, AZ, and the National Museum of Australia in Canberra, and many others. Our glass objects have gone as far as the Suntory Museum of Art in Tokyo, Japan, and as close as the Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, NY.

Islamic bowl on loan to a traveling exhibition that will be on display in Provo, UT, Indianapolis, Houston, and Brooklyn. Bowl, transparent emerald-green, mold-pressed and cut. Islamic; Western Asia; perhaps Iran, c. 9-10th century. H: 7.6 cm.(55.1.136)

Islamic bowl on loan to a traveling exhibition that will be on display in Provo, UT, Indianapolis, Houston, and Brooklyn. Bowl, transparent emerald-green, mold-pressed and cut. Islamic; Western Asia; perhaps Iran, c. 9-10th century. H: 7.6 cm.(55.1.136)

Have you ever wondered how and when this all happens? All the glass moves in and out through our curatorial loading dock, which recently underwent renovations.

For years, the Curatorial Department has struggled with an aging lift and a fairly ineffective loading dock. As the main artery for glass objects coming in and out of the building (and the first experience for other museums’ couriers and art shippers) we felt that it was finally time for an upgrade.

Construction on the new loading dock

Construction on the new loading dock.

Earlier this year we embarked on a project to not only replace the often malfunctioning lift and to increase the effectiveness of the dock, but also, to make the back of the house as “World Class” as the rest of the Museum.

Ready to receive and ship glass to and from around the world

Ready to receive and ship glass around the world.

Thanks to the hard work and good planning of the Preparators, Operations, Safety staff and our contractor, Streeter Associates Inc., I am happy to announce that the new loading dock has been built with safety, efficiency and flexibility in mind, and is now officially open for business.

Solving the mystery of the Lalique birds

My name is Kelley Elliott. In March, 2012, I began work as the curatorial assistant of modern glass at The Corning Museum of Glass. Part of my job as curatorial assistant is to make sure that the information we have related to the Museum’s permanent collection is accurate. One of the more enjoyable aspects of my job is the research and mystery solving I undertake in order to learn more about our collections. This blog post explains one recent story I uncovered about a pendant that is currently on view at the Museum, and how I was able to solve a mystery related to it.

In 1990, the Museum acquired a unique pendant from Glenn and Mary Lou Utt, collectors of Lalique perfume bottles. The glass pendant depicts two black and orange birds facing each other, beaks touching, with a baroque pearl hanging from their joined claws. The pendant is unsigned.

Pendant with Birds, René Lalique

Pendant with Birds, René Lalique, Paris or Clairfontaine, France, about 1900─1905. (Gift by exchange of Mr. and Mrs. Glenn S. Utt Jr., 90.3.37)

According to our records, when the pendant came to the Museum in 1990, it was thought to have been made between 1900 and 1903, and it was attributed to René Lalique (French, 1860─1945), the well-known Art Nouveau jeweler and designer of Art Deco glass. The Utts acquired the pendant at a 1985 Paris auction. The specialists at the auction house were unsure of exactly how the pendant was made. They said that it was either made using built-up layers of vitreous enamel, or by using a glass pâte de verre technique.

After the Museum received the pendant, investigations took place to determine if it was in fact by Lalique, since it was not signed. Susanne K. Frantz, the curator of 20th-century glass at the time, asked jewelry experts throughout the world for their opinions. Some experts agreed that the pendant appeared to be designed by Lalique based on its symmetry and the subject of birds, both elements commonly seen in Lalique designs of the early 20th century. But some experts had doubts that the pendant was designed by Lalique because he rarely used pâte de verre, and because so few of his pendants, made between 1900 and 1903, were made solely out of glass.

Dr. Robert Brill, the Museum’s research scientist emeritus, also examined the pendant to see if he could determine how and when it was made. The back of the pendant has a thin backing of copper covered with fused dark glass, and a metal crossbar that connects the pendant to the chain. When held under ultraviolet light, no repair marks could be seen on the pendant, so Dr. Brill knew that it had never been broken. Uncertain as to exactly how the pendant was made, Dr. Brill surmised that it was pâte de verre, with some finely polished surfaces, and that it was indeed created in the early 20th century.

The research by Frantz and Brill did not prove that the pendant was by René Lalique. However, the Museum recognized that the necklace was a unique piece of Art Nouveau jewelry made out of glass, and that it was an important piece to include in the Museum’s permanent collection.

In 1994, an auction of original René Lalique design drawings took place in Paris. The auction included an ink and gouache drawing of a pendant with two birds, attributed to Lalique, and dated to sometime between 1885 and 1912. It looked just like the necklace in the Museum’s collection! Even though they are not holding a baroque pearl in the drawing, the birds on the pendant are identical. Although the design drawing is unsigned (Lalique did not sign all of his work), the style of design, the paper used, and the fact that this was part of a large collection of Lalique design drawings, provide strong evidence that the drawing was indeed made by René Lalique. Therefore, because this drawing was known to be by Lalique, the pendant in the Museum’s collection was then able to be positively attributed to the artist. This drawing was purchased and is now in the collection of the Museum’s Rakow Research Library.

Original design drawing of pendant with two birds, René Lalique

Original design drawing of pendant with two birds, René Lalique, Paris or Clairfontaine, France, about 1885─1912. Rakow Research Library (Call number: Unit 13, Drawer 1).

But even though the artist had been identified, there remained questions as to what type of birds are depicted on it. One of my first assignments was to see if I could solve this mystery. Since the pendant came to the Museum with no documentation, and since there is no inscription on the drawing identifying the birds, I searched for clues based on the information I had: the Museum’s object file, and the physical appearance of the birds.

The catalogue for the 1985 auction (where the Utts acquired the pendant) described the birds as “a pair of Javanese fighting cockerels.” In 1988, the pendant was featured by Patricia Bayer and Mark Waller in their book, The Art of René Lalique. They described the birds as “Javanese fighting roosters.” So, I did an image search on the internet for “Javanese fighting cockerels” and “Javanese fighting roosters.” The results for these searches both showed birds with red beaks and faces, not black ones like the birds on the Museum’s pendant.

In the 1994 auction catalogue, which illustrated the Lalique drawing of the pendant, the birds were described in French as “deux (two) pigeons.” But the birds on the pendant do not look like pigeons. The pendant was also featured in the 1998 exhibition catalogue, The Jewels of Lalique, in which the birds were described as “two cocks.” This could be a generic term for male birds, but it could also mean roosters. The birds on the pendant do not look like roosters. At one point the Museum labeled the birds on the pendant as “kingfishers.” Other Lalique objects in the Museum’s collection have kingfishers depicted on them, but the pendant’s birds do not resemble kingfishers.

Exhausting all known references to the pendant, I decided to use the internet to search for images of “orange and black birds.” This search brought up images of many different types of orange and black birds, which I compared to the birds on the pendant. I looked at the shape, size and color of the bird’s beaks, where the orange feathers stopped and the black feathers started, and if the neck feathers were puffed up like the birds on the pendant.

Screen shot of image search for “orange and black birds.”

Screen shot of image search for “orange and black birds.”

One particular bird in the search results seemed to be a match: the bishop bird. The black areas on the bishop bird’s head are the same shape as the birds on the pendant, and the orange and black feathers all seemed to be in the correct place. The bishop bird (Euplectes franciscanus) genus is a species of the weaver (Ploceidae) family, known for their intricately woven nests.  And during mating season, the male bishop bird puffs up his neck feathers, just like the birds on the pendant.

Bishop bird (Euplectes franciscanus)

Bishop bird (Euplectes franciscanus) at Binder Park Zoo in Battle Creek, Michigan, July 25, 2009. Photo taken by Ltshears, and posted on Wikipedia commons.

I also discovered a book published during Lalique’s lifetime that reproduced the bishop bird in color, Richard Lydekker’s The Royal Natural History published in London and New York by Frederick Warne & Company in 1893. Lydekker observed that the bishop bird, a bird native to North Africa, “is often imported into Europe as a cage-bird. The adult male in nuptial plumage has the upper-parts, throat, and vent, brilliant scarlet; the wings and tail are brown, and the forehead, cheeks, and chin black.”

Color plate of bishop birds, The Royal Natural History, p. 363

Color plate of bishop birds (bottom two birds) on page 363, Richard Lydekker, The Royal Natural History (London and New York: Frederick Warne & Company, 1893)

So, perhaps Lalique saw this publication, or, maybe he saw imported, caged bishop birds in Paris. We may never know what inspired Lalique to make this pendant. This part of the story still remains a mystery, until more information is uncovered. But, even though I do not know why René Lalique chose these birds for his design, I am thrilled to be able to say that the birds on this pendant depict bishop birds.

Now, on to the next mystery. The Museum is full of them!