Alexandra Kennon
A theme we return to regularly in these pages is the enthusiasm for making, in all its forms. The first batch of beer might be sour (and not in a trendy way), initial paintings might be more “abstract” than intended, but the human zest for creation, for pointing at something and declaring “I did this,” remains undiminished. And of all the aspects of human nature to profit from, this yearning to make is probably the most pleasant. Many artists, cooks, and other creatives now offer experiences along with their finished products: don’t just buy, learn and then do. I recently took a field trip to Rosetree Blown Glass Studio and Gallery in Algiers (across the Mississippi, not the Atlantic) to explore one of the most exciting of these guided creation experiences: glassblowing.
The Connecticut-born son of an illustrator (whose comic book covers hang proudly in Rosetree), Mark Rosenbaum came to New Orleans in 1981 for graduate work at Tulane (getting his MFA in Glass in 1983); like many people who expected to live in New Orleans “for a few years,” he never left. He opened Rosetree in 1993 and in 1996 moved to its current location, a beautiful pink building that once served as a local movie house. Rosenbaum described how the occasional older visitor will walk to a spot in the display room and say, “We sat right here, every Saturday,” and the entryway features beautiful terrazzo from the days of real movie palaces. (Rosenbaum recalled, a bit wryly, discovering that can’t-be-ignored treasure partway through the reconstruction of the floor that had covered it.)
Where the screen once was now sits a furnace, left at searing heat over days-long periods (though insulated and never unattended) because of the time it takes to get hot enough to melt raw glass. Each furnace can hold up to four hundred pounds of molten glass; heated to over 2000 degrees, the glass glows an eerie, early-sunset orange. I am not, by any means, a deft or graceful person—I was once asked by a roommate not to carry knives across the kitchen because that “seemed like an unnecessary risk”—nevertheless, with Rosenbaum’s help I was able to make a perfectly respectable piece of useful glass art, while both having fun and technically being at work. Here’s what I learned:
Dress for Heat
You’ll be standing in front of an open furnace—think breathable, summerweight fabrics. For obvious reasons, though, nothing loose or flowy, and wear closed-toed shoes.
Alexandra Kennon
Blue—No, Yellow!
There are dozens of options of colored glass chips to stripe or speckle your piece. I opted for “Cool Mix,” a classy mélange of green, blue, and purple, but this took an embarrassing long period of hemming and hawing—most of my furniture is green, but then some of it is orange and red, and why do I decorate like a colorblind eight-year-old? Do yourself a favor and have this crisis at home. (I won’t even describe the mental agony I faced choosing whether to make a tumbler or a bowl.)
Breath Control
Don’t inhale on the blowing apparatus. Though there are safeguards in place to prevent you from inhaling molten glass (but do you really want to stress-test those?), you’ll run the risk of ruining your piece by sucking in. Also, since the air you blow into the glass will expand as it hits the hot glass, less is, for once, more: think a dainty, controlled kazoo puff, not a brash bugle at the break of day. Additionally, be aware that “glassblowing” involves relatively little blowing and a lot of stick-turning, patience, and smoothing out edges with a wet paddle.
Keep It in Rotation
You will be instructed to rotate the pipette on which you’ll build the piece. Take this seriously. The molten glass will thicken a bit as it cools in the non-furnace air, but it won’t get thicker than a roughly “cold honey” consistency. If you hold it still, greedy gravity will snag it and start to deform it. Rosenbaum can help you reshape it if this happens, but it’s best not to let it get too droopy.
Alexandra Kennon
Don’t Make a Margarita Just Yet ...
Because it’s so hot, your glass creation won’t be ready immediately. In the ambient air, it would cool so quickly it would crack, on the same principle that shatters a just-out-of-the-dishwasher glass when a cold liquid is poured into it. Instead, your piece will go into an annealing oven, which lowers the temperature more slowly. You’ll be able to pick up the piece in a few days.
My tumbler now sits on my office desk. It’s not the only decoration I have, but it’s become my favorite. After all, I made it.
Rosetree offers lessons for different glass pieces throughout the year, with a break in summer for heat reasons. In addition, you can shop and marvel at the wide range of glass objects on display and for sale in the studio. See the schedule and get more details at rosetreegallery.com.
