I have to start by saying that anything I write here will be easy to overlook, surrounded by images of Dale Chihuly's glass. Call it artistic, call it sculptural, call it what you will, it is dazzling.
And congratulations to George G, who recognized the location despite the clue being the only image in this article with no glass in it!
In the Northwest Room, some early-in-career work interpreting patterns and shapes in Native American baskets and textiles.
No matter how many times you've seen his work (and that's probably quite a few times), it is always impressive. I've seen exhibits in urban museums, in botanic gardens, even in public squares, and you've probably noticed it pops up often in blogs about museums Gumbo travelers have visited.
I like to think that a good part of what makes it so impressive is change.
Sea-life forms have been prominent in Chihuly's oeuvre. Above, one of the paintings/sketches Chihuly makes to guide the glassblowing.
Not only that glass, because of how it absorbs, reflects and shadows light looks different from each direction you view it, but also because Chihuly himself has been on a constant journey, never staying forever in one style, one motif, one vision, but constantly referring to where he's been before.
"The Persian Ceiling" offers hundreds of glass objects passing light from above; nothing Persian about it at all, and Chihuly has been criticized for using the word to refer to 'exotic' smells, senses and history
I only really came to that realization this summer when I visited perhaps the largest collection of his work, in a museum and garden dedicated to it, at the base of the Space Needle in Seattle.
Some of the most popular works for outdoor display have been the Mille Fiori, or 'thousands of flowers' pieces that take inspiration from botanical models.
The setting makes it possible to follow the path of development, and to see samples, both familiar and not, from all the periods of his work, as well as to look at the sketches from which he and his collaborators work, It also makes it possible to feel as if you are inside a kaleidoscope, with constantly changing colors and shapes.
Collaboration is an important aspect of Chihuly's work. For all his reputation as a mercurial personality and hard taskmaster, his earliest training in glass included an apprenticeship at a glass works in Venice, where teamwork was the norm, even if it was one artist's vision being produced.
My personal favorites, if I were forced to choose, would probably be these Ikebana Boats, overflowing with blown objects; the shapes and reflections and colors change as you move, whether indoors or out, daylight or night.
While it is clear that his teams of glassblowers and shapers have made it possible for so much Chihuly work to exist, it's not clear how much collaboration goes into design, and the question isn't addressed here, it is certainly true that blowing glass to someone's design is not comparable to filling in the colors on a paint-by-number set!
There are two chandelier exhibits; one in the darkened indoor area, and the other along a walkway along the garden.
Visiting Chihuly Garden and Glass isn't cheap: Regular tickets are $35, with some discounts available for Seattle area residents, youth and seniors. And you can save a couple of bucks if you arrive before 11 am. The museum opens at 9.
The 'Macchia' series, above derived from a series of experiments with putting a layer of glass between the interior and exterior for a cloud effect.
In the garden, glass shapes are 'planted' with live flowers and shrubs. In some cases (top photo) it's hard to tell them apart!
There's also a 'community hot shop' out in the garden, a converted Airstream trailer with glass ovens that heat glass to 2175F, allowing local artists to give demonstrations and ask questions. Schedule varies.
This bouquet of flowers is one of Chihuly's longest pieces; the longest of all is hanging at Bellagio in Las Vegas.
Comments (1)