Glass artist Josh Simpson’s vision is as vast as the universe, an unlimited landscape that stretches from the mysteries of the ocean to the far reaches of space. Since he began to explore the secrets of his ancient craft more than 30 years ago, Simpson has created a persona every bit as fantastic as his remarkable work.

"I can’t say that I had a detailed life plan when I was first captivated by glassblowing, or had any notion of where it would take me," Simpson laughs. " Even now, I never know quite where I’m going until I look back and see the progress."

Self-taught, Simpson used his life savings, which totaled $306, to rent an isolated tract of land in Vermont, land-build a studio, sew himself an 18-foot cloth tipi to live in, then set about cracking the secret of iridescent Tiffany glass. He succeeded, and then moved on to develop a reputation as one of the foremost contemporary glassblowers in America.

Simpson has become particularly well know for his Planets. This evolving series suggests intricately detailed miniature worlds, reminiscent of the rounded shape of the Earth as photographed from space. And if his imaginings about space and the nature of the universe ever grow dim, he can turn to his wife, astronaut Cady Coleman, for firsthand inspiration.

Megaplanet (Large) by Josh Simpson

As an extension of his Planets, Simpson developed Megaworlds, a series of large, heavy glass sculptures. To create a Megaworld, Simpson must direct his skilled glass team in a precise, carefully choreographed collaborative effort.

"We look like a bunch of football players trying to do ballet. It’s a challenge to control an 80-pound ball of molten glass on the end of a five-foot-long blowpipe; the physics are definitely working against you. My team knows what to do, working through experience and few words. You must be precise and graceful, as well as extremely strong, because the glass is so responsive and alive."

To develop a personal aesthetic—the value system that defines our sense of beauty, grace, and comfort—we must learn to look with a critical eye at everything that surrounds us. When we study the architecture of our living environment, the array of furnishings we select and the art we acquire, we should be able to recognize how these pieces work together to balance the many elements of design: color, texture, form, and proportion. Developing this ability is what we call "learning to see".

An important aspect of creating a personal aesthetic involves cultivating a point of view with regard to material possessions, a point of view based on the goals of your space. Learning to see requires that you look at many objects and absorb what each one has to offer without losing sight of your own circumstances and needs. You can accomplish this by developing a dialogue with an object. No, we don’t mean speaking out loud to it, but rather becoming curious about it. Where is it from? How old is it? Was it crafted by hand or by machine? What unusual techniques were used to produce it? Did its creator sign it? Finding the answer to these questions will enrich your understanding and deepen your appreciation of the object you’re looking at. This process increases your knowledge, strengthens your personal aesthetic, and prepares your eye to seek beauty in all that is sees.

The art you acquire and objects that you collect each have a story. When brought together in your home, they tell a unique story about you. It’s your goal to become a good storyteller.

When you introduce art into your home, you’re adding a layer onto a foundation established through the furnishings, lighting, and accessories that you’ve inherited or purchased over time. These possessions were doubtless acquired as much for their function as for taste and style. Creating an artful home is about selecting and placing art that complements your foundation of core furnishings while celebrating beauty and spirit and reflecting something intimate about you and your family.

Looking at art feels very different from looking at other kinds of furnishings. An artist’s work can take you by surprise. It can inspire pleasure, confusion, or an immediate sense of affinity. You may like what you’re looking at, or you may not. Either way, your eye is stimulated, and the piece calls to you for response and reaction.

The wonderful thing about art is that it need not be constrained by anything more than your personal aesthetic: "Wow! I like that! Now, where in my home can I place that for all my friends and family to see?" Suddenly you’re engaged. You’re thinking about how to share the story. That’s the fun and the beauty of learning to see.

A metalworker known for his industrial-strength designs, Boris Bally does not travel light. When he moved his home and studio from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to Providence, Rhode Island, he needed an 18-wheeler and a crane to haul a total of 36,000 pounds. "I tease my wife, who’s a physician, all the time," he says. "She carries all of her work around with her in her head. I would rather drag my stuff around with me externally."

This "stuff" includes raw materials, machinery ranging from saws to a hydraulic press, and finished designs, mainly in the form of wearable sculpture and jewelry, flatware, and furniture. Weighing in among his heaviest work—and also his most popular— is the Transit Series: bowls and chairs made out of aluminum street signs, which are bent into shape with great force.

Using street signs is more than a chance for the artist to flex some muscle, however. It’s also an elegant form of recycling. "Our resources on the planet are finite, and the best test of an artists is how well we can use what we have at hand," says Bally.

His vision of art as recycling comes in part from his training as a goldsmith in Basel, Switzerland, shortly after high school. Given the value of gold, obsessive conserving is part of the trade. But Bally treats scraps of non-precious metal with the same kind of care. He frequents scrap yards and likes to walk his dogs straight to the neighbors’ trash cans on garbage days. One of his biggest recycling projects has been collecting corks from around the world to use as feet for his Transit Chairs.

"I started using champagne corks as the feet of my Transit Chairs. The cork made the perfect foot because it’s pliant and easy to replace. You just have to be willing to break open a champagne bottle in the name of art."

Spring at the Vineyard, 2008 by Fanne Fernow

Fanne Fernow Explains the Fine Art of Encaustic
Though created using centuries-old techniques, encaustic painting is a largely unfamiliar art form that combines the skills of colorist, painter, and sculptor within a single work of art. Here, encaustic painter and International Encaustic Artists officer Fanne Fernow responds to our inquires about this unique art form.

How are encaustic works made?
Encaustic painting is a process of painting with molten wax and fusing the layers together with either a propane or butane torch or electric heat from an iron of a heat gun, which is like an industrial-strength hair dryer. Damar resin (a straw-colored resin gathered from trees) is melted into beeswax resulting in a harder, more luminous wax. Fusing layer to layer to layer further strengthens these paintings. In the end, encaustic works are stronger than one might image.

Encaustic is not a new medium—there are examples of encaustic paintings dating back to the sixth century. The word "encaustic" comes from the Greek word encaustikos, which means "to burn in." The fusing of the layers of paint is as important to the creation of an encaustic work as the actual painting.

Are there new materials being used in encaustic work?
In its truest form, encaustic materials are beeswax, damar resin (not varnish), and pigment painted on a wooden support. Today, however, encaustic can go as far as the human mind can take it. There are many artists, myself included, who make wax-based mixed-media pieces. There are others out there doing fabulous monoprints on paper, painting on Plexiglas, and dunking or painting on anything they can think of. Heather Hutchinson works with Plexiglas. Wnedy Aikin and Judy Stabile have recently "encausticated" household items including tea cups, sugar cubes, glasses, books, keys, cell phones, and a chair. Paper loves wax, so many book artists, collagists, and assemblage artists use wax as well.


It seems that working with wax must be very difficult. What is it that makes encaustic work so appealing?
Encaustic painting is very organic. Beeswax comes from bees, damar resin is stuff that drips out of pine trees, most pigments are organic, and it is best to use natural wood substrates. I like it that we use things that come from the earth. It smells good, though it is best to work in a well-ventilated room.

With encaustic paint, I find that it is very easy to make my own paint from scratch, which is very empowering and fun. I make my own medium, which is a misture of the wax and the damar, and then I introduce dry pigment. I can customize my paints and colors in ways I never thought possible. I find it very satisfying that in the end, I have "made" all the paint.

Do you find that there are certain types of artists who are drawn to encaustic work?
Encaustic is perfect for the artist who loves processes and figuring things out. It is great fun to say, "Oh, look at this wood burner. What can I do with this?" A quick exploration says that you can’t really work the wax with a wood-burning tool because it burns too hot, and just leaves the wax in a puddle. But try turning down the heat and putting some absorbent paper on the wax, and then using the wood burner. Fusing the wax to the paper gives the wax a whole new dimension. Continuing to layer the wax over the paper layer will continue to enhance it. Encaustic is for the artist who wants to expore, who is brave enough to say "What will happen if I try this?"

Of course, there is also a whole school of artists out there who do very traditional work. I have seen amazing representational landscapes painted with hot wax using tiny brushes. I find those works to be mind-bogglingly perfect.

Why are encaustics a good option for commissions?
It is hard to talk about encaustics in general terms because there are so many different paths an artist can take. One of the universal truths about encaustic is that there is an intrinsic luminosity of the wax.

I find many encaustic paintings to be very meditative, and in a way, some two-dimensional works can almost seem three dimensional because of the textures. Often decorators and architects are looking for great surfaces, and with encaustic, the possibilities are limitless. Encaustic also lends itself well to giclée prints.

What’s the role of International Encaustic Artists?
About four years ago, some "waxers" from the Bay Area gathered in an informal way to see if they could promote encaustic art in San Francisco. The response was immediate, and artists from all over wanted to join in. Ultimately, they formed International Encaustic Artists as a formalized way to promote encaustic painting and encaustic artists. The official objective is to seek "to raise the level of excellence in fine art encaustic work by providing global information exchange and raising interest about encaustics in the art world and with the general public."

In addition, IEA has a fabulous sense of community. People love sharing their methods and techniques. Because encaustic painting is growing in popularity right now, IEA is a great place to learn new things and get answers to questions. There is a lot of mentoring and empowerment in IEA. We also sponsor shows, and our members are asked frequently to curate or help curate encaustic shows.