Strolling around Venice you might notice, in the proximity of the Grand Canal and Ponte dell’Accademia, the unmistakable signs of Dale Chihuly’s presence. Some orange, blue, and red glass curls rise up from the terrace of Palazzo Querini della Carità, a few steps from the bridge. Looking towards the opposite shore, you’ll see a totem of golden tentacles towering above the bushes of Palazzo Franchetti’s garden.
Thirty years since his monumental project Chihuly Over Venice—when 14 massive, vibrantly colored glass sculptures (Chandeliers) were installed above the city’s canals, in one of the most defining episodes of glass art history—Chihuly has returned, with new work to celebrate the anniversary.
Among the major forces in the American Studio Glass Movement and co-founder of Pilchuck Glass School, Chihuly was the first American artist to work in Murano. Today, more than 60 years into the game, he remains one of the most influential figures in contemporary glass, with a unique approach to the craft that has inspired generations of artists, Marcantonio included: in his hands, glassmaking became experimental, entertaining, collaborative. As Chihuly sat for lunch with Marcantonio last week at the Gritti, I managed to smuggle a few questions to members of his team. He replied.
Your Boathouse hosts one of the largest hotshops and glass studios in the world. How many people work on your team? And what’s your relationship with your team of gaffers and glassblowers?
In the hotshop, my team can range from 10 to 17 glassblowers and assistants. Having the support and skills of a large team can be tremendously gratifying. I feel fortunate to work with a very skilled and talented team of glassblowers and assistants—especially when I work on large architectural projects and exhibitions. Glassblowing is a very spontaneous, fast medium, and one has to respond very quickly. My team allows me to explore new ideas constantly.
Water seems to be a recurrent element in your work. The Boathouse is located on the shore of Lake Union; I’m thinking of your sculpture series Boats, and also of Seattle itself, where your permanent museum is located, which is also a city of water. And then, obviously, Venice. What’s your connection with the water element?
I have always been attracted to water—it’s a source of creativity for me. Maybe growing up in Tacoma, Washington, and being surrounded by the water had an influence on me. Glass itself is so much like water. If you let its organic nature come through, it looks like something that came from the ocean.
A few years ago a show about glassmaking debuted on Netflix called Blown Away, a signal of glass art’s extreme popularity in the mainstream media. I think ultimately this success is the consequence of the approach you pioneered and made popular in the first place. You made glass art spectacular, entertaining even. What are your thoughts? Do you consider yourself an entertainer as well as an artist?
Watching glassblowing is entertaining, but I don’t consider myself an entertainer. I have often described myself as more akin to a film director or an architect leading a team of creative people.
Is it true that for your 1996 installation, Chihuly Over Venice, you were able to have both Lino Tagliapietra and Pino Signoretto—who were competitors and normally didn’t speak—working together on one of your projects? That sounds like a big event. (A friend of Marie Brandolini told me this anecdote, and she says everyone was shocked seeing them working together.) What are your memories of that day?
Lino Tagliapietra is considered the world’s greatest glassblower, and Pino Signoretto is considered the world’s greatest glass sculptor. It wasn’t an easy thing to get two Italian masters to work together! But I told them how important the movie I was making about the Chihuly Over Venice project was, and I absolutely had to have them work together. Since I knew both of them and they had worked with me over the years, they did that for me. We made parts that were inspired by the lagoon to create the Laguna Murano Chandelier. I’ll never forget it.
You’re a legend among young glassmakers as well. We have met some as part of Laguna~B’s residency program Autonoma, and they always reference your work. What advice would you give them?
Surround yourself with artists and see as much art as possible. You start by making decisions—looking at your work and deciding what is important. To be an artist, you start by slowly developing what is really you. Only you can decide. It helps to always have your sketchbook—make drawings, write down your ideas, and record what you’re thinking.
This is a question for you from a 21-year-old glassmaker from our Autonoma program, who admires your work: “What started your drive? Do you remember manipulating hot glass for the first time?”
I was always interested in glass. As a kid I would pick up pieces of glass that washed up on the shore, but it wasn’t until I took a weaving class at the University of Washington with Doris Brockway in the early 1960s that I started incorporating glass shards into my work. Then one night a few years later, I melted some glass in a little oven in my basement and blew a bubble. I had a poster on the wall of a glassblower with his cheeks puffed up, so I gave it a try. As soon as I blew that first bubble, I knew I wanted to be a glassblower.
