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Studio Glass in Ireland
originally published in GASNews,  January/February 2005

           I first became interested in the emerging studio glass movement in Ireland after hearing very positive word-of-mouth following the 2003 Waterford symposium. This gathering seemed to galvanize the artists that were involved in it, allowing contacts to be made and connections to be formed that seemed to portend a greater cohesion. The newly-reorganized Glass Society of Ireland, with its quarterly publication of Gloine, spoke to a level of organization and communication that are both necessary to establish the exchange of information that is a hallmark of a coherent glass movement. With the encouragement of Una Parsons (who arranged a lecture for me at the National Museum of Decorative Arts), Andrea Spencer (an artist living in Belfast with whom I’d shared a North Lands Creative Glass residency in 2004), and Eibhlin Scanlon (who had advertised for a glass tutor in the GAS newsletter), I arranged to spend the months of November to January taking a closer look at the fledging glass community.
           What I found were the first shoots of a vine that seems to be planted in very fertile soil. The history of glass in Ireland—what might be termed the native tradition—is spotty, waxing and waning with the imposition of British trade tariffs that disrupted any sustained developments. In the 60s and early 70s, when the studio glass movement was first being established in other countries, Ireland’s economy was struggling and it seems that early practitioners often chose to leave the country for better opportunities elsewhere. Despite the establishment of the glass program at the National College of Art and Design in the mid-80s (to this day, the only university-level educational program in glass in the country), the last forty years of the studio glass movement—which elsewhere spawned university glass departments, public access studios, private studios, summer schools, an extensive gallery system, collectors, museums, publications, artists organizations, events, and an entire service industry—more or less passed Ireland by.
But developments in Ireland in the 90s created an astounding economic phenomenon: the much-vaunted Celtic Tiger, with an unprecedented growth in GNP, per capita income, population and just about every other yardstick by which we measure affluence. The boom resounds in almost every sector of the economy and that kind of wealth creation usually bodes well for the marketing of art (and, indirectly, art and artists). Furthermore, the artists that I did encounter were attuned to the opportunities at hand, with several choosing to focus on architectural applications for kiln-worked glass in the proliferation of urban construction. The occasional inclusion of kilnworking classes in public-access facilities—like the Sculpture Factory in Cork, and the Fire House in Dublin—provide the means for postgraduate students to continue working an to broaden the case of glass practitioners. Another factor that bodes well for any artist in Ireland is the impressive level of support that is available from their government. Artists in the Republic of Ireland, by statute, pay no income tax and there are generous grants available for capitalization, education, travel and just about any other scheme you could imagine.
           There are a lot of elements that have yet to be put in place. The vigor of the early studio glass movement in the US came directly from the sheer number of educational programs that sprung up in the 70s. The NCAD program has produced some remarkable artists but the existence of a single higher-education program seems to act as a limiting valve more than anything else. In addition, artists need a market and they need exposure. One or two venues for mid-market crafts in Dublin won’t support an extensive network of small studios; the market for anything other than low-end objects aimed at tourists was, to me, invisible. Although the country has two museums with good historical glass collections (the Ulster Museum in Belfast, and the collection at Collins Barracks in Dublin), it’s hard to underestimate the role of museums and publications in educating a public and creating a receptive audience for contemporary glass through exhibitions and mass media exposure. Additionally, sources of supply will continue to be a problem, with almost everything one could imagine necessary for the production of studio glass—from raw materials, batch, insulation, microprocessors, tools, etc.—having to be imported from Europe and thus marginally more expensive. Utilities, in an energy-hungry activity like glassmaking, are not cheap.
           But glass is still new in Ireland, and will continue to benefit from the novelty for a time. Furthermore, the growth of a glass movement today doesn’t have to replicate the halting progress of yesterday because it can build on the base of knowledge that now exists, be it the technical information necessary for building efficient small-studio equipment or the glassworking techniques that are readily available in schools around the world. The advent of the Internet and more sophisticated communications and marketing networks makes information much more accessible than it has been in the past. As the global glass movement evolves, local communities can build on those achievements.
           What is essential to the growth of a studio glass movement is a certain pioneering spirit that I found in talking with independent studio artists who were not intimidated by the challenges and were excited about the opportunities of working with glass. Their numbers are small right now but the level of energy and enthusiasm that I encountered in talking with them convinced me that the future of contemporary glass in Ireland lies in their hands.

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