The language of glass

Young Chang

There was something about sand melting into clear goo and the goo

being shaped like it was caramel and the caramel getting blown,

literally, into beauty that intrigued Kent Kahlen more than 10 years

ago.

Until then, he was a self-proclaimed “typical youngster” who

started and quit jobs in a pattern that showed he was still looking

for his place in the world. Kahlen fell into glassblowing during a

stint with chiropractics in 1988 (his back hurt, he went to see a

chiropractor, he decided to be a chiropractor). He was walking

through the art department at Santa Ana Junior College one day when

he saw someone working on this “glowing red thing.”

“That was it. I was hooked,” said the Newport Beach resident who

is exhibiting his work at the Festival of the Arts in Laguna Beach.

“I was totally naive to this glass, art world.”

That glowing red thing, technically called the glory hole (the

place where glass can be heated to be shaped into art), became

Kahlen’s niche.

Today his studio contains two such fiery holes -- the glory hole

and the furnace -- puntis (rods used to transfer melted glass),

blowpipes, pipe-warmers and other chunky tools. It’s hot in there.

Sort of scary too, as the presence of things that can burn you is

plenty. But for the 36-year-old Kahlen, who barely flinches at small

burns from ash falling on his skin, a glowing rod with a bulb of

fluorescent orange glass at its tip might as well be a baton meant to

twirl.

“Explosions are infrequent,” he said. “I’ve had this glory hole

explode on me, but it was nothing.”

His furnace is kept on every day, regardless of whether he is

working and even if he is sleeping. It maintains a temperature of

2,000 degrees Fahrenheit and is able to house up to 320 pounds of

molten glass, which is born of a mixture of silica, ash and lime. The

glory hole is turned on only when he is working and maintains a heat

level of 2,300 degrees Fahrenheit.

Kahlen starts by sticking a blowpipe into the furnace. Once the

tip of the rod is clumped with this mix, he rolls the substance on a

marvel (a type of table) to smooth it and works with his many

tweezers, sheers and jacks to shape the shapeless mass. The texture

of the glass is like thick gel at this point, yielding to every whim

of the tools held in Kahlen’s hand.

The artist then blows into the blowpipe and makes a little bubble

in what is, at this point, pretty round. The bubble expands and makes

the glass hollow. Sometimes, if he’s working on a big piece and needs

help, his assistant Josh Backhaus will blow into the pipe while

Kahlen observes the changing shape.

Backhaus said he got into glassblowing for the same reason his

employer did.

“You see it, there’s that attraction,” he said. “The fire and all

the noise and you see somebody pull the glass out and it’s like

nothing else.”

Some of what gets made in Kahlen’s studio include vases, floor

lamps, tables, custom-lighting features, sculptures and even

paperweights.

The average glass buyer doesn’t always know that glass comes from

sand, from such a creative process, Kahlen said. But the artist, who

actually considers himself both an artist and a craftsman, depending

on whether his creation is used functionally or sculpturally, said

more people are becoming glass collectors and thus aware of

glassblowing.

They’re also hesitant to dismiss the art as just a craft.

“We’re growing out of that pretty rapidly,” Kahlen said.

Glassblowing has continued to hold his interest for 12 years

because the creative possibilities are endless.

“There’s always a new design, a new shape you can do,” he said.

“It’s got all the good ingredients to keep you interested for a

lifetime.”

As far as Kahlen is concerned, time spent in his studio is time

spent speaking the language of glass.

“You’re telling the glass what to do and making statements with

the glass,” he said. “It’s a very intriguing medium. You really can’t

beat it as far as what it gives you in the end. “