I've been meaning to share with you a project I completed a couple of months ago. It was a commission for a woman who wanted to donate an icon of St. Francis Xavier to SFX Catholic Church in Valdez, Alaska in honor of her mother. She'd heard about my glasswork (but apparently had never seen it - I'm not sure how in this tiny town), and asked me to make a stained glass window.
My first question whenever anyone asks me to make a stained glass piece is, "Does it have to be stained glass?" If you don't know, stained glass is made by cutting colored glass like puzzle pieces to create a design, covering the edges in copper tape, and then soldering the puzzle into a whole piece. I find it tedious and boring, and while I can do it, I prefer not to. I much prefer the spontaneity and process involved with fused glass.
In this case, my client was amenable to any process. She just wanted a glass window. She and her sister-in-law had a photo of a painting of the saint that they liked and were hoping I could recreate, or at least use as inspiration. I normally won't copy someone else's work (copyright laws, desire to be original, and all that), but in this case the painting was clearly very old (I'd guess 18th - 19th century), and was widely used to represent SFX in a variety of places with no attributions. I never could figure out who'd painted it. I warned her that I couldn't recreate the "painting" look of the original image, but that I'd do my best.
With so many small areas of color, the last thing I wanted to do was cut glass in all those shapes. I decided to be brave and try a new technique I'd seen in a book by Richard La Londe, Fused Glass Art and Technique. (He has two books out; both belong on the shelves of any fused glass artist.) He uses powdered glass and CMC (carboxy methyl cellulose) to make a mixture that can be squeezed through a small nozzle to draw lines on a sheet of glass. The CMC burns away in the kiln and you're left with a line of glass fused to the sheet. Before fusing, he fills the space between the lines with a mixture of glass powder and fine frit (imagine a mix of flour and sugar) in whatever colors he wants to use.
I read the directions in his book and commenced experimenting. I knew that once I started on the full project, it all had to be done in one go with no touching up or corrections - I had to get it right the first time or whole lots of money and time would be wasted. I figured SFX's head was going to be the hardest part, so I made several samples of that to try out colors, techniques, and firing schedules. They're laid out below in the order I made them. You can see I gave up on imitating the blue hair in the painting - I thought it looked ridiculous in my work.
I drew out the entire piece full size (16" x 24") with the lines I intended to use, got agreement from my client, and, with much trepidation, commenced work on the final piece. That sounds so simple. In reality, months passed as I chose colors and ordered glass, made samples, got a new kiln shelf that was big enough for the full sized piece, and generally prevaricated and procrastinated because of nerves. Once I finally got started, I was able to lay all the color in over the course of a couple of days.
Laying the color in essentially consisted of shaking the powder/fine frit mixture out of a folded index card into the areas I wanted it, and then pushing it into place with a rubber tipped clay working tool. (I really wish I'd been better about getting process photos, but I always say that.) Because I was putting the crushed glass onto a sheet of clear, I was working upside down. Any fine detail that would be seen on the front had to go on first and could never be retouched. Argh!
After praying lengthily to the kiln gods, I fired it the first time. Hallelujah - I got no bubbles! Unfortunately, I also saw that if I was going to get enough color saturation from transparent glass, I was going to have to put down a second layer of all the colors (except those surface details I could never get to again). A few more days of pouring and pushing glass followed by holding my breath through another firing and all the color work was done. I wrote St. Francis Xavier across the top, and a quote of his, "Be great in little things," across the bottom with glass paint, and held my breath through another firing. All in all, as I dealt with big and little issues, the entire piece was fired six times. During any one of those firings, tragic things could have gone wrong that would have destroyed the entire piece. Thankfully, nothing went wrong.
I framed it in a metal picture frame (a whole other learning process) and hung it in the window at the church. I wish my photo did it justice - it really did come out pretty nice, and my client was happy with it.
I appreciated doing this project because it forced me to try something new and learn some new techniques. The only downside was that it really wasn't my style. I normally prefer to work in brighter colors and on more fun subjects. I did decide I wanted to do more with the techniques, however.
Last September, I made my way to Whidbey Island in Washington and took a four-day workshop with Richard La Londe. I learned everything I did right with SFX, and everything I did the hard way. Imitating Richard's style, we all made 12"-square glass mandalas in his class to learn his technique's properly. Here's mine:
With my new-found understanding of his techniques, I wanted to do more. This past week, I made an opportunity when I needed to come up with a gift. Now this 12" square is totally me:
There are innumerable fused glass techniques out there, most of which I'll never get around to trying. This one, however, I plan to keep playing with. Now I just need more commissions! (hint, hint)