My Lambert Glass Story

When I was first working in stained glass I discovered the existence of a most wonderful handmade “full antique” glass being made in Germany. It cut like butter, came in a gorgeous range of colors and combinations, and was uniquely brilliant. It was also prohibitively expensive. I could only afford to buy the little broken-off corners from my wholesaler. I could not afford a single full sheet. But I promised myself that one day I would work seriously with this glass if ever it was possible.

Fast forward 30 years. I remembered my promise. In the spring of 2011 I booked myself on a stained glass tour for glass professionals in Germany culminating on my birthday at the Lambert’s factory on the Czech border. I witnessed the whole ancient process still being practiced, from the mountains of raw minerals to the huge old furnaces, from the mouth-blown cylinders to the finished sheets. Teams of glass blowers with their coolers of beer at their sides, sweating while spinning their rods of glowing molten magic. I selected my first batch of 20 sheets at the factory to be shipped to my wholesaler. Several months later I picked them up in New Jersey, drove them home, and set them up in my new showroom downstairs from my studio in Moretown Village. This was the week before Hurricane Irene hit.

Irene brought 9 feet of filthy floodwater into my home and 4 feet into my new showroom. I was so devastated that I could not imagine recovering or cutting into the new glass I had waited half a lifetime to work with. As it turned out, volunteers (neighbors, friends and strangers) moved my muddy but intact glass up the stairs before flood reconstruction began and not a sheet of it was lost.

Nevertheless, it took just over 2 years before I stood in front of my Lambert’s glass and was finally ready to cut into it for the first time. When I did, it was transformational. With this glass I find myself working in a whole new way. Instead of starting with a static design, it is more like a creative dance between me and the glass. I start with a piece or a section of a sheet that essentially calls out to me and tells me what it wants to be, and then I just let it grow. (This glass has so much to say that it would be a real lost opportunity not to listen.) It grows by inspiration and I don’t push it. This is a very exciting and satisfying way of working, which I don’t think would be possible with a less energetic or expressive type of glass. With this glass I feel I’ve met my match, and I only hope for enough time to work with it now that I finally have it in my studio.

Whenever I work on a large project with this exquisite glass, I end up with a myriad of small pieces of exquisite glass. It is an on-going challenge to find creative and satisfying ways of using up these pieces. One way is by having a series of small projects, such as stars, bugs or feathers. But rather than mass-production, each piece is a variation on a theme. Neither the pattern nor the glass is repeated. Each piece I make is one-of-a-kind, just as no two sheets of Lambert’s glass are identical.