Lino Tagliapietra has been captivated by glass from his earliest

“i would like to make glass
that’s timeless, that stays forever young,” says Lino Tagliapietra, a youthful 80-year-old
who has been making glass in
a timeless fashion for close to
70 years. He pauses, then adds,
“I’m not sure if it’s possible.”
Maybe that’s how a true
master views his craft: as an
unending quest, an ideal to be
pursued relentlessly, if never
quite achieved in his own
estimation.
It’s often said that Tagliapietra is the best glassblower
in the world – indeed, one of
the best in history. His surname
means “stonecutter,” but he
was born to blow glass, as a
native of Murano, the fabled
home of Venetian glassmaking
since the 13th century.
His story, by now, is legend.
Eternally fascinated by glass –
as a child, he’d build little furnaces out of mud and bricks,
light a fire and melt glass bits
for fun – he began working
in local factories at the age of
12, was apprenticed to master
blower Archimede Seguso, and
attained the status of maestro
(literally, “master”) himself at
21. Throughout the 1960s, ’70s,
and ’80s, he had a successful
career designing innovative
lamps, vases, and other products
for various Muranese companies,
including Galliano Ferro, Venini, and Effetre International.
opposite:
Born on the island
of Murano, home of
Venetian glassmaking
for 800 years, Lino
Tagliapietra started
working in glass
factories at age 12.
below:
Fuji, 2015,
41.25 x 21.5 x 7.5 in.
story by
portraits by
Joyce Lovelace
Robbie McClaran
066 american craft jun/jul 15
Fuji photo: Russell Johnson / All object photos: Courtesy of Schantz Galleries
Lino Tagliapietra has
been captivated by glass
from his earliest years.
At 80, his passion
still knows no bounds.
068 american craft jun/jul 15
right:
The installation
Endeavor at Tacoma’s
Museum of Glass
in 2012.
below:
Made of blown, cut,
and gilded glass, this
Masai d’Oro piece
(2011) was inspired by
the decorated shields
carried by Masai warriors of Africa.
Each piece
manifests
not only
exceptional
skill but
also a quest
for new
discoveries.
left:
Africa, 2014,
23.5 x 17.25 x 10.5 in.
right:
Avventura (2009),
made up of 102 blownglass elements,
pays tribute to the
glassmakers of
ancient Rome.
Masai photo: Francesco Allegretto / Other photos (3): Russell Johnson
Then at midlife, almost by
chance, he embarked on an
extraordinary second act. He
became not only a celebrated
independent artist, but also a
teacher and mentor whose influence is so profound, so widespread, that he is regarded as a
pivotal – some say the pivotal –
figure in the contemporary glass
art movement worldwide.
In short, Tagliapietra is a
rock star in the glass world, one
not content to play only his old
hits. He still brings an unbridled
enthusiasm to his work, using
his command of centuries-old
techniques to create sensuous,
sculptural blown forms, full of
vibrant color and pattern.
“We see in Lino’s art not only
the highest level of skill and
mastery of material, but a personal quest for new discoveries
with each piece,” says one of
his dealers, Jim Schantz, who
with his wife, Kim Saul, owns
Schantz Galleries in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. “At 80,
he continues to challenge himself by finding the most exciting
or most sublime, striving for
new forms of expression and
creativity. His latest works,
which we saw him make at the
Museum of Glass in Tacoma in
February, were some of the
most powerful he has made.”
“I like to research new ways
to try to express myself – not
only the idea, but the technique.
They go together,” Tagliapietra
says in his charmingly accented
English, which he began learning in his mid-40s when he first
visited the United States. For
him, discipline and innovation
go hand in hand. “It must be
both. You must be very disciplined, have respect for the
rules. Other times, you break
the rules – but always with a
respect for the material.”
His strong work ethic was
instilled during his early years
at the factory in postwar Italy,
when “we needed to work in a
very serious way.” Forgoing
school, young Lino put in long
hours, sometimes from 5 o’clock
in the morning to 7 at night,
six or seven days a week. “It
was no joke. If you made a mistake, after a couple of times,
you could receive some big,
big, punishment – physical, too.
It was a tough education,” he
says. As he matured, Taglia­
pietra was drawn to the larger
world of art – not just the Old
Masters, but also modern work
he’d see at the Venice Biennale
by American painters such as
Mark Rothko, Barnett Newman, and Ellsworth Kelly. It
stirred in him a creative urge
to venture beyond the sophisticated commercial designs he
was doing for the factories.
“I had always the idea that I
could do something new.”
Then, in 1979, he met a
young American glassblower
named Benjamin Moore, who
had come to Murano to work
at Venini. Moore arranged for
Tagliapietra to travel to the
United States and give a demonstration at the Pilchuck Glass
School north of Seattle, the
center of a vibrant but still
nascent glass art scene.
At Pilchuck, the Americans
watched, dazzled, as Tagliapietra put on a stunning display
of technical wizardry. “To see
someone with that insane command of the material – the speed
and virtuosity and finesse, working on a very small, delicate level as well as doing huge, massive
things – was just mind-blowing,”
Moore remembers.
The maestro was less impressed with the Americans’
work. “He was appalled at the
craftsmanship; we were all selftaught,” Moore says. But “what
he saw was this no-holds-barred
attitude in the American approach, which I think he found
rather refreshing.”
“The technique, they were
very poor,” Tagliapietra recalls.
“But the energy, they were
fantastic.”
He generously shared traditional Venetian techniques, giving the Americans a foundation
of basic skills – how to properly
jun/jul 15 american craft 069
Under Tagliapietra’s influence, many now-prominent Northwest glass artists blossomed.
Photo: Kim Saul
Tagliapietra reflects on
the undulating shapes of
his Metamorphosis (2014)
at the Schantz Galleries
booth at last year’s
SOFA Chicago art fair.
gather glass, the right temperature at which to work, the
design of furnaces, how
to set up the benches. “These
things made a huge impact in
those early years for all of us,
particularly in the Northwest
movement,” says Moore. “It
enabled people like William
Morris and Dante Marioni and
Preston Singletary – you can
go down the line of prominent
Northwest artists and look
how their work blossomed
and took this huge leap after
having spent time watching
Lino. It was huge, really big.
A big deal.”
“He imparted the language
that nobody knew of, nobody
could speak,” says Marioni.
When he met Tagliapietra in
1983, he was 19, an “uneducated glass zealot” who had
been blowing since he was 15.
“It was still a bunch of hippies
blowing glass then, everybody
figuring it out as they went.
The lack of skills sort of lent
itself to the prevailing aesthetic
of the day, which was loose,
goopy stuff. Then Lino showed
up. He could make things that
looked machine-made, and that
wasn’t anybody’s intent back
then. The hippies weren’t into
that. They wanted to make
it look funky and cool and
handmade,” Marioni recalls.
072 american craft jun/jul 15
top:
For Concerto di
Primavera (2000),
Tagli­apietra created 17
one-of-a-kind vessels
and designed the table
they sit on.
bottom:
Fenice, 2012,
22 x 26 x 9.25 in.
Stromboli photo: Russell Johnson
deco Venetian glass. He began
to envision a more artistic,
expressive direction for himself,
as well as a potential market
for such work. By 1990 he had
left Effetre, where he had been
artistic and technical director
since 1976, and was ready, as
Moore puts it, “to bust a move.”
Tagliapietra realized his old
mindset of “designer-thinker” –
creating objects to be manufactured in multiples, with the
constraints that entailed – no
longer served his purpose. So
he made a bold personal decision to change his approach and
make one-of-a-kind pieces.
“After that transition,
I made things a different way,”
he says. “It’s a totally different
philosophy to make unique
pieces, a different psychology.
And I like it. It’s very satisfying
for me to understand what I
want, what is possible to express.”
Concerto photo: Courtesy of Schantz Galleries / Fenice and Africa photos: Russell Johnson
“But I sat up and took notice.
I couldn’t believe human beings
could shape molten glass like
that. It set me on my path and
has for countless other people.”
(Most importantly in Marioni’s
view: “Lino is a role model,
a gentleman, always polite and
kind to everybody. I mean, he
is the world’s greatest glassblower. That goes without saying. He’s a fantastic artist. But
to be a nice person on top of
that is really an A-plus.”)
While Tagliapietra empowered the Americans, their free
spirit inspired him. Soon he was
spending more and more time
in Seattle. He expanded his
travels and teaching to Asia,
Australia, and South America.
Starting in 1988, he worked
with Dale Chihuly on the latter’s famous Venetians, a series
of elaborate, colorful blown
forms that paid homage to art
Rather than sketching, it’s
handling hot glass directly that
guides his creative process.
“I need to work, to move
my hands.”
There’s been no end to his
innovation since. John Kiley,
who worked on his team from
1994 to 2011, recalls the challenge of keeping up with
Tagliapietra when he was in
an experimental mood: “There
would be some new technique
he’d dream up, or new tool or
mold or idea or pattern or shape.
We’d be scrambling, trying to
figure out what he was doing,
because none of us had seen
anything like it.” To this day,
whenever Kiley watches his
former boss in action, “I fully
expect to see something I’ve
never seen before.”
Though obsessive about
his work, Tagliapietra was
always genuinely interested in
his crew members and enjoyed
hanging out, Kiley says. “The
conversation usually wasn’t
about glass. We’d talk about art,
cooking, music, love, politics,
philosophy, travel. When I was
real young, he’d say to me, ‘You
know, Kiley? Yeah, it’s important to study technique, to be a
good glassblower. But it’s also
important to walk in the woods,
to drink good wine, eat good
food. Take time to understand
things outside of blowing glass,
because that’s where your inspiration will come from.’ ”
Asked for his advice to
aspiring artists, Tagliapietra
replies, “If you want to make
art, you must be passionate.
And then study. Curiosity. Never stop being curious. Then you
must have patience, because
you don’t become famous right
away, you don’t make money
right away. My personal
above:
Africa, 2013,
10.25 x 19.25 in. dia.
below:
Stromboli, 2015,
35.25 x 10 x 8 in.
experience, it took me almost
50 years. Also, you need a little
bit of luck, of course. Me, I’m
very lucky – when I came to the
States, it completely changed
my life.”
And it has been, he reflects,
a “very good life.” He and his
wife of 56 years, Lina, the
daughter of a prominent Muranese glass family, split their
time between an apartment in
Seattle and a modern house on
the water in Murano. (Their
three grown children reside
in Italy, and none blow glass.)
“I live in Seattle when I’m in
Seattle, and I live in Venice
when I’m in Venice,” is how
Tagliapietra puts it, not counting his frequent travels. He
makes his pieces at various studios around the United States –
“I feel grateful, very good working here. I have a good team, nice
people, really fantastic” – and
jun/jul 15 american craft 073
during his guest demonstrations
at hotshops around the globe.
When he’s not making
glass, he’s often reading about
it. “I have a thousand books.
I like Roman glass, Islamic
glass. I like the history of glass,
because I feel if you know the
past, you will know the future.
To make new things, you must
know the old things.” At events
like the annual Glass Art Society conference, he enjoys the
camaraderie and dialogue and
new work, loves seeing what a
vibrant, important art medium
glass has become. He’s a fan of
all craft forms, especially wood,
and owns several vessels by the
late Ed Moulthrop, the noted
woodturner.
“It doesn’t matter what material we use,” Tagliapietra says.
“We need the technique, we
need the idea. And then we
need the poetry, the love that
transforms the material into a
piece of art.”
After a lifetime in glass,
after decades of achievement
and acclaim, Tagliapietra clearly still feels that love. But does
he feel satisfied?
“Oh, no, never, never,
never,” he says, sighing softly.
He repeats the word “never”
eight more times, emphatically.
“In the moment, you are satisfied. Maybe you’re happy with
what you did. But tomorrow,
or even today, is another time.
You make one work, and the next
piece is the new challenge.”
So what’s next for him?
“That’s a good question. I’d
like to know,” says the maestro,
chuckling. “I’m running to be
there.”
Master
technique,
yes, he tells
young artists.
But also
walk in the
woods, drink
good wine,
and eat
good food.
linotagliapietra.com
Joyce Lovelace is American
Craft’s contributing editor.
left:
Barene, 2012,
6.6 x 4 ft.
above:
Osaka, 2011, 18 x 13 in. dia.
opposite:
Watching Tagliapietra
work is revelatory, even
for his experienced crew:
“I fully expect to see
something I’ve never
seen before,” says
recent team member
John Kiley.
074 american craft jun/jul 15
Object photos (3): Russell Johnson
below:
Tasmania, 2013,
8.75 x 20.75 x 2.75 in.