Making art at more than 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit

by Mary Helen Sprecher
newsroom@baltimoreguide.com

It’s My Job is an occasional feature in The Baltimore Guide, highlighting residents with unusual and interesting jobs. Have a suggestion for an It’s My Job feature? E-mail newsroom@baltimoreguide.com.

There’s something Tim McFadden wants to make clear at the outset. Martini glasses? They’re hard work. Not to mix, not to fill, certainly not to drain—but to create.

“Stemware is the hardest, most technical thing to make,” said McFadden. “It’s something that takes a lot of practice.”

McFadden should know. As the owner of McFadden Art Glass on Eastern Avenue, he has created everything from Christmas ornaments to modernistic lamps, from vases to tumblers, and everything in between including, yes, stemware. And he has created it the old-fashioned way—with a furnace, blowpipe and a number of other tools of his trade. And these days, he makes a living not just selling pieces of his art, but teaching others how to master it.
Pretty good for a guy right out of college—particularly one whose initial higher education goals didn’t really include fine art.

“I went to Salisbury University to try to play lacrosse, but it wasn’t working out,” McFadden said. He switched to business as a major. And like many other students, had to satisfy required coursework in other areas.

One of those areas was fine arts. And McFadden might have been relegated to some obscure Art 101 course, had it not been for the fact that he had seen his older brother Marty, also a student at Salisbury, satisfy some of his own art requirements by taking a variety of courses.

“He needed some art electives, so he was taking ceramics and drawing. Ceramics was right next to the glass blowing studio. Whenever the doors would open, you could see people working on glass, and glass is just so much cooler than anything else so he started taking that, too.”

After seeing his brother’s enthusiasm, McFadden went to speak with the professor, and convinced him of his own interest in glassmaking (generally a course reserved for upperclassmen). The prof allowed him to take an introductory course as a freshman, and McFadden was hooked. He continued taking glassmaking courses throughout his time at Salisbury, balancing (and sometimes overbalancing) the art classes with his business studies.
“After a while, I started thinking, ‘How can I do this once I graduate?’”

He had already seen his brother try unsuccessfully to find a position in glassmaking after college. McFadden wanted to make it work, so he decided to try something different.

“Every year, the college holds a business plan competition. You could win $5,000 to start a new business if you won first place.”

McFadden drew up a business plan, showing that he could develop a company that was half art gallery, half classroom. The gallery would be a for-profit enterprise, the educational side would work as a not-for-profit organization. It would be a way to teach glassmaking, and also to sell his work.

“I spent four months working on that plan, and I got third place. I was really bummed.”
McFadden shelved his plan. But he had another year of school left and that, he realized, meant he had another chance.

“I took the plan out the following winter and looked at it and it was like brand new to me. I spent another two or three months on it, I fixed what was wrong with it and I reworked it and I resubmitted it.”

And this time, the result was very different.

“I won the $5,000.”

Which, he discovered rather quickly, “doesn’t go that far” when starting a business. But bolstering him “was the idea that the judges were people who had done what I was hoping to do. That was the first time I thought, ‘Maybe I can do this successfully.”

McFadden received his diploma on May 24, 2006. On May 30, he settled on the building on Eastern Avenue, a former auto repair business. He spent four months refurbishing the building to make it at once habitable as a residence and presentable as an art gallery—and turning the warehouse/garage space into a glassblowing studio.

And in November, he opened. The city’s Free Fall event, which promoted local art museums and art-related businesses, he said, “was the best thing that could have happened to us.”

“Now, people are starting to know that we’re here, starting to know what’s going on.”
To make sure they do, McFadden schedules a variety of activities that will interest not just art connoisseurs but those who always wanted to try their hand at glassmaking, but who might have been intimidated by the idea. He has instructional classes, private parties, lessons and beginner’s workshops to introduce others to his crafts, and even group tours and hands-on learning experiences for students and others who simply want to watch him work and see how things are done. (He also offers private lessons and studio rentals for those who want to pursue the art on a more focused level).

He has also upped his visibility by holding consumer-friendly events like “date nights” on the first Friday of every month, and encouraging couples to come by for some free entertainment—and after all, it’s an unusual and conversation-provoking outing, for sure. (Those who choose to do so can pay a $35 fee and create a glass flower to take home as a memento of their evening).

And really, he adds, it’s something anyone can take an interest in.

“Ages, well, four to 94,” he said. “I had a kindergarten group come in a while back and we made marbles. They absolutely loved it.” He grins, reliving the moment.

The question, of course, has to come up: Isn’t that dangerous? After all, the furnace that turns raw materials into molten glass heats at temperatures above 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit. The glass is still well over 1,000 degrees when it’s pulled out of the furnace and when the shaping process begins.

“There’s a certain element of danger,” says McFadden, “but it’s all about how you handle yourself in the studio.”

Prior to setting up his own business, McFadden worked in a number of studios and visited others. He took notes on what worked and what didn’t, what he could apply to his own business and how various ideas could be improved upon.

“I knew I wanted to work with beginners and teach classes, so I wanted a design that I could work with. The design I have is very safe. People are separated from the equipment.”

McFadden’s workshop allows a good view of the goings-on, with individuals seated in a semicircle nearby. It’s close enough to feel the heat from the furnace (an education in itself)— but far enough away for it not to be a problem. It’s near enough to see the molten glass glowing white hot and to watch it cool as it’s shaped—but allows enough distance to not touch it.

When he’s actually instructing others in the art of glass blowing, he works strictly one on one. “I’m always within two feet of people, always guiding their hands.”

Still, McFadden says, there are always going to be a few individuals who need reassurance, whether they’re just spectators, or actual participants.

“The biggest misconceptions are that people are going to be exposed to toxic fumes, or that something’s going to blow up. There are safety controls on everything so it’s very safe. The only thing you really don’t want to be exposed to is glass in its powdered state.”

The raw materials for glass he handles alone, while wearing a respirator. The clothes he wears while doing it are washed immediately.

With the furnace glowing white inside, he dips a rod inside, then pulls it out, swirling a bulb of liquid glass on the end. Through a series of visits back to the furnace and over to his workbench, he twists, shapes, blows and coaxes the clear material into a drinking glass. His tools hiss when they come in contact with the water he uses to cool them—an ever-present reminder of the conditions under which he works.

When he’s finished, he rests the finished glass on the floor of the shop and stares at it. “It’s probably about 1,100 degrees right now,” he says, looking at it critically. “In another minute or two, it’ll be down to about 900.”

If he were planning to keep the glass, he would put it into an annealer, an oven that reduces the temperature of the piece over a period of hours. (Cooling glass too rapidly—such as by leaving it sitting in the workshop—stresses it and causes it to crack).

When clear glass breaks, McFadden is able to recycle it—melt it down again for use in a future project. His workshop is filled with a number of objects destined for recycle, most of them attempts at a curving glass faucet he is presently working on for a client.

I’ll get it right,” he says with determination, running a finger over one of the trial faucets.
Because he doesn’t yet have the equipment to recycle colored glass as working material, his experimental work—like the faucets—is done without color. As a result, the dozen or so faucets rest like curving icicles, picking up the light and refracting it again.

Back in his workshop, and in his living space, are more examples of his art. Glass fish, myriad vases, plates, lamps, whimsical animals, imaginary creatures and glass balls in a kaleidoscope of colors catch the early spring sunshine that slants in through the big clear windows. On his dining room table is a collection of tumblers in various colors and sizes, their hues playing off one another. Even in McFadden’s bathroom, a high faucet splashes water onto a series of thin glass lily pads that create a multi-tiered waterfall effect down to the sink.

“I love this,” he says simply, turning on the water and watching it cascade down the drain.
The play of water on glass is enjoyable and relaxing, and it’s obvious that McFadden enjoys the results of his art. But outside the door is the entrance to his workshop, and he has to be getting back to it. He has an order of glass ornaments to create, and a customer is coming by to pick up some pieces made during a recent workshop. It’s his business and his livelihood.

Part of the challenge he faces is moving glassblowing into Baltimore’s mainstream consciousness. After all, pottery studios have been around for years, but it wasn’t until recently that the do-it-yourself workshops and programs have really caught in.
This year, however, he says, glassmaking took a big leap forward—all the way to the Super Bowl when it was featured in a beer commercial.

Of course, he hastens to admit, it was definitely stop-action photography. After all, a glassmaker doesn’t create a bottle as quickly as a beer commercial can show—particularly not one that costs what airtime at the Super Bowl costs. And yeah, beer bottles don’t come off the glassblower’s pontil with a label on the outside and a beer on the inside.

Still, he says, it was “the coolest commercial ever.”

But not realistic…?

“Oh, no. It’s not realistic. Not at all. Nobody makes their beer bottles by hand. You’d have beer that cost $35 a bottle otherwise.”

Note: McFadden Art Glass is located at 6800 Eastern Avenue. The phone number is 410-631-6039, and the website is www.mcfaddenartglass.com.