#ftonline

Embark on thrilling adventures amidst brewing excitement in Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin.

So here is Day 1:

At 76, the glass artist is beginning to think about his legacy, which he hopes will include a new Arts and Crafts hub in Southwark

My wife, Ann, and I are often woken around 7am to the shrieks and laughter of our neighbour’s children playing on their climbing frame; it’s usually quite a nice sound to wake up to, although it’s less than welcome some days. We have a cuddle and then banter about whose turn it is to go down and make the coffee. We have it in bed, or in the recent hot weather sitting on our newly acquired loungers on the bedroom balcony. I didn’t drink coffee for years, due to a homeopathic regime I was following, but it’s now become a fetish to join the throng at Monmouth Coffee in Borough Market to discuss and experiment with its wonderful, ethically sourced offerings. My latest find, however, is from somewhere new: it’s called Volcano Coffee and comes from New Zealand via my friend Hervé, whose new restaurant, Casse-Croûte on Bermondsey Street, was described by Fay Maschler as “the perfect little bistro of the sort you hope to come across in France, but nowadays never ever do”. We are spoilt for choice in Bermondsey Street; it’s a foodie’s mecca and has an amazing feel that is not unlike Elizabeth Street in Soho, New York. I feel extremely lucky that our studio and gallery is located here – it is such a change from our previous off-the-beaten-track premises in Rotherhithe; we moved here four years ago and haven’t looked back.

I am immensely proud of the gallery. I still get a kick out of arriving each morning (admittedly a little later these days) and walking towards the hot glowing furnaces in the studio beyond, to greet the guys who are already busy blowing. It’s such a captivating process, so balletic: the heat, the rhythm, watching the form grow from a gather of molten glass, taking shape and hardening as it cools. Although it’s my setup, we operate as a collective, which means that everyone has their say, can use the facility and sell their work through the gallery. The majority of sales are of my work, which essentially pays the huge (and ever-increasing) costs. As part of the deal, the team help me to make my pieces, since I am getting on a bit and it really is hot, heavy work. 

I try to use colour in glass in a painterly fashion, creating simple, sculptural and mostly non-functional pieces, a favourite of which is something we call a “stoneform”. Inspired by pebbles, these forms were originally made to lay horizontally on a surface, but in a flash of genius (or luck) I turned them on end to stand vertically. We’ve made literally hundreds of them in all sizes and in many different series, so that they have become a signature shape. They are a most enjoyable and satisfying form to make.

This morning, on my way in to the studio, I visit Kate Catleugh. Kate is an amazing and indomitable woman well into her 80s, currently recovering from spinal surgery, a heart attack and a triple bypass in quick succession. As if that weren’t enough, someone recently tried to steal her identity, setting up several false bank accounts in her name. If she hadn’t been so sharp it would have been disastrous. She is the director of the De Morgan Centre (a museum dedicated to the work of William and Evelyn De Morgan, key advocates of the Arts and Crafts movement), now in Wandsworth but likely to relocate to the Tower Bridge area, where as well as a museum there will be craft workshops in various disciplines. She and I worked together on a scheme to create an Arts and Crafts hub a number of years ago, garnering considerable support and a near-perfect building in Lambeth, but the council stalled and so we gave up and moved on. Kate is now the driving force behind the project but I still advise her from time to time, and may set up the glass studio side once everything is up and running. It is extremely exciting and the new property being considered in Southwark will be ideal. 

When people get to our age they begin to think about their legacy – what will be left for posterity. Perhaps I haven’t thought about it enough yet, but Kate certainly has, and what she plans is hugely ambitious and inspiring.