So, I’m watching the news on TV one morning and there’s a piece about a historic stained-glass studio. Apparently, Judson Studios (www.judsonstudios.com) has been in business for 125 years and 6 generations.
I showed this to my wife. She is really adept at putting together what we call “adventures” – going places we’ve not been in our hometown just to try something new or off-the-beaten path. It’s probably the only reason she puts up with me, and who can blame her?
Plus, we have stained glass in our house. Apparently, in our housing track, one of the features from the mid-70’s was a small stained-glass window (and a disco ball, but we don’t talk about that). Ours is an underwater scene; my wife now calls the fish Judson. To be honest, we don’t think about it much – it sits there in our living room in the back corner. But many of our neighbors apparently removed their picture, which seems a shame. This may not look like a fancy church window, but it is charming in its own way and the color in the morning is pretty nice.
In any case, I’ve struggled with how to frame this post. What I want to say simply that this visit was probably the best tour we’ve taken.
Most tours are run by a hired hand who has a script. You walk down certain paths that are marked so as to not disturb the surroundings, and if there are people working it’s usually behind glass. (get it?)
Judson is different. We were being led by Ben, who’s the 6th generation of Judsons. It was his first time giving a tour, so he had Reed, a lead artist, come along for the ride.
You know it’s going to be different when the first room you’re squeezed into forces an artist named Sean into a corner (fortunately for Sean, I showered that morning). Unfortunately, poor Sean has to tolerate my questions:
- When cautioned to be careful on the tour to not break glass: “OK, if someone breaks a window here, do you fix it or do you call a guy?” (It depends.)
- Or when Sean has to fix the gigantic layout printer: “Were exorcisms involved?” (Yes.)
Yep, no ropes, no boundaries, no questions not answered. All positives.
My big takeaway: There are really 3 ways to make these glass panels, and we met the folks that all work on them.
Traditional Stained Glass by Hector: We met Hector as he pieced together a window by bending lead for soldering and saw the cleanup shop where these were finished. I still don’t know how they get it out the door.
Painted Stained Glass by Indre: In their second/new studio, she was painting an image of the Virgin Mary. But she apparently has to paint both sides of the glass – something I would not have thought about (again, no surprise there).
Fusing Stained Glass by Reed and Some Guy named Fritz:
Fritz? Isn’t that a small German man in a beret sipping beer during Octoberfest?
Apparently not – unless they hired the guy. What my limited mind would understand is that you melt little pieces of colored glass (Frits) into a big picture based on some artist’s drawing. Reed was describing the process by which he and others put these pictures together.
(he was rather warm)
I don’t think I understood a single thing they said. Perhaps they’re speaking German. But the amazing thing is that each person described exactly what they were doing; it was not from some script. These are the people that do the work, and that’s pretty special.
As anyone who has known me for more than a nanosecond would know, I was really close with my grandfather. Gramps was a union painter. But really he was a self-taught artist. I described his process in (please see Things I Learned in Woodshop ), which can be summarized in these steps:
- Laying out a picture in a grid
- Transferring it to a wood block
- Cut it out on a bandsaw to be carved at home.
- Drink Beer. (I helped him a lot on this step)
I grew up watching him turn wood into carvings and pictures like Charlie Chaplin, Norman Rockwell, birds, grandfather clocks, and whimsical toys. I showed it to the artists, and I think they got it. I don’t think they’d ever seen something like this before.
(Carved Figures)
(Carved Figures)
The tour took me back. It was different because the actual people showed us the actual pain-staking process of their work, and because they seemed to genuinely enjoy sharing it with us tourists. For them and us, I hope this never grows old or bothersome.
Gramps taught me the importance of understanding the process of making something, not just admiring the result. While at Judson, I found myself thinking of all those afternoons tagging along with him. I was never bored. Rather, it gave me a sense of wonder that I carry to this day.
I miss those days. I intend to share this with the kids I tutor. It won’t be the same. But any time we can share our knowledge of new things is a time we invest in ourselves.
For that – Thanks guys.
LARRYLAND 
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