8 Thursday November 25 2021 | the timesarts
COURTESY OF NETFLIX; EMILY ALLEN FOR THE TIMESon display at London Glassblowing in
southeast London, one of Europe’s
oldest hot-glass studios.
To see how hard it was for the
contestants I tried it out myself
— and it’s no place for the faint-
hearted. The furnace runs at
1,100C. When you get close to it,
the room seems to transform into
a sauna (we are told to remove
jewellery to avoid it melting) and
yet, miraculously, when you roll the
molten glass into the shape of a
bauble using the palm of your hand,
there’s only a thin wet newspaper
between you and a third-degree
scolding — the steam stops you
burning. It’s fun, but there’s a fine line
between failure and success: you have
to keep the glass turning (fast, but not
too fast) and then you have to blow
(hard, but not too hard). And,
whatever you do, you mustn’t drop
it on the floor.W
ith
Giuseppe’s
win, The
Great British
Bake Off is
over for
another
season. For
those feeling as deflated as a fallen
soufflé and wondering what might fill
the cake-shaped hole in your life, fear
not. Netflix’s Canadian reality show
Blown Away is here, even if, in this
glassblowing challenge, the only things
rising are the contestants’ tempers.
Rather than kneading dough and
piping biscuits, the aim is to blow
molten glass into a bubble using a
blowpipe, then tweak, twist and turn it
using giant tweezers and paddles.
Unlike Bake Off, each contestant is
allowed an assistant to help to open
the furnace or trim the molten glass.
Mostly the novices manage to create
fantastically intricate sculptures.
There have been two seasons, plus
a Christmas edition presented by
Bobby Berk, the interior design
expert from the makeover show Queer
Eye, where, in a suitably Christian
metaphor, losers from the first and
second series are given a second
chance. From cooking up a glass
banquet of festive nibbles to recreating
the best Christmas gift they’ve
received, along with baubles, the last
glassblower standing after each
elimination is awarded $10,000 in
cash. Keeping with the Christmas
spirit, the winner is also given a
further $10,000 to donate to charity.
It might sound jolly, but it’s a
swelteringly painful affair, as Elliot
Walker, 33, from London, explains.
He’s the British underdog you can spot
by the wet flannel on his head, who
went on to win the second series,
released in January this year, and a
prize worth $60,000. Walker, the son
of a cobbler, sometimes had to drag
his dehydrated assistant back to work,
so overpowered was he by the heat.
Each contestant and assistant are
judged on their imagination and
technical skill, which in glassblowing
terms means their eye for scale, colour,
texture and proportion. “Glass will
shatter, and so will your dreams,” is
the catchline of the welcome speech
at the start of the second series of the
fast-paced show. The judges are
tough: in the Christmas edition
someone is scolded for an overcooked
glass chicken drumstick; another
because their glass grapes lacked the
requisite juiciness. It’s an environment
that breeds sweat — and clichés.
“We’re always working on a knife
edge,” Walker says. “It’s addictive —
like gambling.”
The dedication paid off with
Walker’s final “installation”, Bodge Job,
an unexpected triumph (they have just
a few hours to make each masterpiece,
the equivalent of Bake Off’s
showstopper). As glass nails stick out
at unwieldy angles, along with replicas
of those hammers you might be
unlucky enough to win at the fair, it’s
an alarming physical representation of
the anxiety he felt in front of the
camera. “I wanted it to be scary, like
it’s all going to come crumbling
down. It’s an emotional response to
the tension I’ve been feeling
throughout,” he says.
This pressure, nonetheless, inspires
ingenuity. Walker was the first
contestant to transform the pedestal
that the glass objects are supposed to
be presented on into art itself. A
reconstruction of his finished work isWalker spent eight years at London
Glassblowing and has its 84-year-old
founder, Peter Layton, to thank for
his TV success after his mentor
urged him to join the show.
Layton, who was born in Prague
and whose family fled the Nazis
and lives near Dulwich Park in
southeast London, makes it look
easy. He has exhibited at
Highgrove at the invitation of
Prince Charles.
If you’ve been to Venice, you’ll
have marvelled at the wonders of glass
art. In medieval times glassmakers
were treated like royalty. They were
immune from prosecution, could strut
around with swords and marry into
Venetian aristocracy. By 1291 this regal
lifestyle was restricted. Furnaces were
moved to the island of Murano,
supposedly to stop the wooden city
from burning down, but also to isolate
the masters (who became more likeprisoners) and their trade from prying
eyes. The price for divulging
glassblowing secrets was execution,
Layton explains. “Occasionally they’d
manage to take off to the Netherlands.
But then Venice would send a death
squad to nobble them — Venetians
were very proud.” Things have cooled
down since then. “Now we’re like one
big family,” Layton says.
Still, it remains a perilous business,
even for the glassblowing big shots.
The work of the 80-year-old American
artist Dale Chihuly is treasured by
Elton John, Bill Gates and the
Clintons, and can sell for hundreds of
thousands of pounds. Yet it took just
seconds for a bowl from his Macchia
series on show at the Victoria andAlbert Museum in London to shatter
across the floor in 2001, along
with its £35,000 value, when an
electrician accidentally knocked it
from its support plinth. Chihuly’s
chandelier sculpture still hangs under
the glass rotunda at the museum’s
entrance — for now.
Despite the buzz of the TV show —
Walker’s social media following blew
up, rising from 8,000 to 78,000 — the
future of glassblowing isn’t clear-cut.
Layton says the studio received a grant
from the Foundation Alcea during the
pandemic to fund vital renovation —
“We couldn’t have afforded to do it
ourselves” — awarded because
“they’re worried about vanishing
skills”. Layton is passing these
skills to his daughter, Sophie Layton,
35, who combines glassblowing with
enamelling, “an ancient technique that
has almost died”, her father says.
Brexit is causing trouble too.
“Beforehand it was really
straightforward to get materials; now
getting anything is a problem,” Layton
says. Brexit is also limiting the range
of artists they can support. “We’d like
to have more European artists
showing, but that’s difficult now too.”
I ask how a budding glassblower
such as myself, after one wonky
bauble, could get their hands on more
experience. “I wouldn’t even know
how to tell you,” Walker says.
“Universities aren’t teaching these
skills any more — it’s just lumped in
with art and design.” There’s always
YouTube, but self-teaching is pricey —
you can install small furnaces called
“mini-melts” into a garage, but a
proper furnace can cost £30,000,
Walker says, a reheating chamber
£15,000, not to mention the electricity
and gas bills.
It’s not all doom and gloom. My
meeting with Layton (who did manage
to teach himself) is cut short by
someone from a cruise liner wanting
to spruce up their ship’s design,
potentially interested in buying some
glass sculptures (assuming the sea
crossing is calm). Apparently there’s a
growing demand for glass art
manufacturing, and to keep this
dying art form alive. Which, as Walker
says, is no bad news for the planet:
“You can recycle glass until the sands
of time — for ever.” As Layton says:
“With a little bit of breath, it’s amazing
what can be achieved.”There she blows!
Blown Away, a new TV show in which contestants are
judged on their glassblowing skills, has hooked
Jade Cuttle and inspired her to try it for herself
We’re working
on a knife edge.
It’s addictive —
like gambling
Blown Away: Christmas
is on Netflix. You
can join a hands-on
workshop at London
Glassblowing, SE1, next
spring, londonglass
blowing.co.ukCat Burns, the
runner-up on
Netflix’s Blown
Away. Below:
Jade Cuttle with
glass artist
Bruce Marks
at London
Glassblowing.
Bottom: Jade’s
finished work