the history of itinerant glassworkers

Tag: Europe

This Dutch glassworker used a Cartesian diver as a magic trick

As early as the 1670s, itinerant glassworkers were touring Europe demonstrating lampworking techniques to curious onlookers. A Dutch glassworker used this handbill to advertise his show in Wrocław, Poland, where he demonstrated at the Golden Sword (likely an inn or tavern). There, in the afternoons, the glassworker made glass eyes, weather-measuring devices, pots, bottles, and figurines.

handbill with text and two images of glassworkers blowing glass and using a cartesian diver

Dieser Hollaendische porcellain-glass-blaser, 1670? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 112252.

Show highlights

He also displayed a relatively new scientific experiment: a Cartesian diver. The diver, seen in full on the right above, was created to demonstrate the relationship between density and buoyancy. But the Dutch glassworker didn’t explain the science behind the Cartesian diver to his audience. Instead, he treated it as a magic trick, in which the demonstrator commanded the figures in the bottle to move up and down by calling out orders. In reality, he used his hand to add or remove pressure from the air-tight membrane at the top of the vessel.

Woodcut images of a man pressing down on the top of a Cartesian diver to create pressure

The glassworker presses down on the membrane covering the top of the Cartesian diver to create pressure and cause the figures in the bottle to move. Detail of Dieser Hollaendische porcellain-glass-blaser, 1670? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 112252.

The glassworker included several figurines in his bottle: a toasting man, a queen, and what looks like perhaps a bear or a devil. (Cartesian divers were also know as Cartesian devils, water devils, and bottle imps.)

Tools of the trade

The handbill shows that this glassworker used a lamp similar to the one described by Johannes Kunckel in his 1679 translation of L’Arte vetraria (The Art of Glass). The flame was likely fueled by oil or tallow pulled through a cotton wick and the glassworker could shape and direct the flame using forced air (either supplied by the use of bellows hidden under the table or by blowing into a pipe directed at the flame). This glassworker also used a small blowpipe to make his products.

The glassworker offered to demonstrate at private residences upon request, and sold his products to interested observers. There is no price listed to see the show, which matches with other known advertisements from the period.

Mrs. Johnston, 18th-century fancy glassblower

In 1743, Britain was ruled by George II, although the Jacobites in Scotland were plotting to install Bonnie Prince Charlie to the throne. That year, Samuel Johnson was a 33-year-old struggling writer and his still-to-be famed biographer James Boswell was just a toddler in Edinburgh. Also in Edinburgh, in 1743, exhibiting for a short time only, was Mrs. Johnston, an itinerant fancy glassblower.

Woman flameworking glass (Attribution unknown, late 19th cent.). Source: Conciatore

‘Fancy’ glassblowing refers to the process of working, not at a furnace, but at a table over an oil lamp with rods of glass. The artist formed the glass into small objects; rigged ships, animals, flowers, religious icons, beads and other ornaments. Glass spinning was a related process in which the heat of the lamp flame was used to draw an extremely fine continuous filament of glass that was collected on a large spinning wheel. The result was a mass of almost silk-like floss that was soft and flexible; nothing like the brittle glass of a cup or a window pane. Spinning demonstrations never failed to fascinate audiences and were a staple of fancy glass blowing acts well into the twentieth century.

Artists would often take suggestions from spectators on what to make and then form the piece on the spot. A common technique was to repeatedly touch a thin rod of glass, called a stringer, along the piece under construction forming a series of little loops in the flame. Rows of loops build up a surface that resembles knitting and a skilled artist can form finished pieces quickly. Eventually, both spinning and the knitting techniques became known generically as ‘spun glass’.

Although not well chronicled, this type of demonstration was performed at fairs and other shows as far back as the fifteenth century, and probably earlier. Because of their popularity with women and children, female fancy glass workers were not only well accepted, but commanded a premium at these events.

Below is a lovely correspondence appearing in the local Edinburgh newspaper in January of 1743. The writer is so taken by Mrs. Johnston’s demonstration that he or she was moved to compose a poem. In terms of documenting eighteenth-century glass artists, it simply does not get any better:

“To The Publishers of the Caledonian Mercury. Reading a former letter of Leonora’s, curiosity inclined me to see Mrs Johnston the glass spinner, and was agreeably surprised to find the encomiums given her fall short of the character she justly deserves; so I hope the gentlemen, as well as the ladies, will solicit in the behalf of the celebrated artist, as is due her merit.  Therefore,

Let Britain quite enjoy its transport round,
Or Johnston’s praise to all the nation sound;
For me, to humble distance I’ll retire,
There gaze, and with secret joy admire:
My native Scotland such a one can boast,
On whom the praises of the world are lost,
For her own works do justly praise her most.

By giving this a place in your paper, you will oblige, yours, etcetera  — Torisment.1

Two weeks later, appearing in the same paper is Mrs. Johnston’s reaction:

“When a person is obliged to persons unknown, the best way is to return them thanks in the most public manner: therefore Mrs. Johnston, the glass blower and spinner, returns thanks to all the gentlemen and ladies who have honored her with their presence; but more especially the gentleman and lady who did her that honour in the public paper: She cannot show her gratitude in any other way than by her best prayers for their felicity, which she shall always think herself to do both for them and all other her benefactors. Her stay being short in this kingdom, she performs now for the small price of sixpence per piece.2

This post was originally published on the Conciatore blog on November 8, 2019.


Stepping into the spotlight: Women itinerant glassworkers

The orphans from the Home of the Friendless filed into the Metropolitan Rink in orderly rows, staring at the wonders displayed before them. Glass sparkled from every surface, shaped like ships and birds and little men and women. A steam engine made of colorful glass spun and whirred next to a model of a derrick bobbing for non-existent oil. In the center of it all stood Madam Nora and her troupe of itinerant glassworkers, spinning, twisting, and blowing glass into all sorts of marvelous shapes. They were there to show the children all the wonderful things that could be made from glass, and to give each child a toy to treasure long after the show was over.

To thank the glassworkers for their gifts, the orphans sang them a song. It was the perfect end to the troupe’s two-week stay in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, in March 1887. More importantly, it garnered Nora and her troupe a slew of free publicity and praise, as well as an open invitation to come back again. It paid to be a marketing-savvy woman in show business. 1

sepia photograph of itinerant glassworkers

Mrs. and Mr. Frank. A. Owen. Glass exhibition featuring spinning wheel and glass steam engine, 1904? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, Corning, NY, CMGL 131372.

Itinerant glassworkers toured cities and towns entertaining and educating audiences from the 17th century through 20th century. They demonstrated glassmaking, blowing glass bubbles, spinning glass thread, and shaping flowers, baskets, and figurines. They created intricate models like skeletons and steam engines and covered tables with trinkets for sale. The trade was dominated by men, but there were quite a few women who performed too, including some of the most prominent and popular itinerant glassworkers of the 19th and early 20th century.

By stepping outside of the home and entering the public sphere, these performers transgressed the standards set for women. They traveled across countries and continents, demonstrating glassmaking for royalty, government officials, and members of the public. They made their own living, and some of them even counted their male family members as employees. Women like Madam Nora and Madam J. Reith ran their own troupes and became popular performers. Details about their private lives are few and far between, but as public figures they were breaking down ideas of what women could and should be at that time.

Mrs. Johnston

The earliest-known woman itinerant glassworker was a Mrs. Johnston or Johnson, who was active in the mid-18th century. In December 1740, she performed at the Robin Hood tavern in Dublin, Ireland, making “curiosities such as, men, women, birds, beasts, swords, scabbards, and ships” out of glass. She also used a wheel to spin glass thread, as much as “ten thousand yards of glass in half an hour.” 2 A few years later she traveled north to demonstrate in Edinburgh, Scotland. Here she won herself an admirer who was so impressed by her performance they composed a poem in her honor. 3

Signora Murch

More women followed in Johnston’s footsteps, often performing alongside their spouses or families. Signora Murch made glass with her husband in Devonport, England, in 1825. The two demonstrated their lampworking skills, “Modelling, Blowing, and Spinning Glass, of various colours.” They offered to make the “Likeness of any favorite DOG” in glass and teach women the “Art of Flower Making.” The Murches made many items for sale, including “Glass Feathers, Pens, Baskets . . . and other Curiosities too numerous to mention.” 4

Nora Allen

Nora Allen (a.k.a. Madam Nora), the performer whose troupe put on a show for the orphans of the Home of the Friendless, was one of the most popular American itinerant glassworkers of the 19th century. Her troupe – Madam Nora’s Original Troupe of Glass Blowers, Workers, and Spinners – included her second husband, her son, and her daughter-in-law, Adalorra Allen. They toured the East Coast and the Midwest in the 1870s-1890s, spending most of their time in New York and Pennsylvania. Her name was listed at the head of every advertisement, and her portrait was featured on broadsides and a newspaper published by the troupe.

Illustration of Nora Allen sitting behind a table full of lampworked plants and animals placed under bell jars. She is holding a small lampworked ship.

Detail of Madame Nora’s Original Troupe of Glassblowers, 1876? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 132079.

By demonstrating for the orphans, Nora was performing “respectable” womanhood. Many women performers of the late 19th and early 20th century did the same, or were marketed by their managers as respectable women. They dressed conservatively, spoke about how much they loved to cook dinner for their husbands, and showed their interest in traditionally feminine pursuits like knitting and sewing. They did so to avoid public censure and to continue making a living as performers. Because their profession put them in the public eye, they could easily be labeled as disreputable and their acts as inappropriate for women and children to attend. So, while Nora may have truly wanted to give the orphans a fun day out, her actions also helped prove to locals that hers was a respectable show proper for all audiences to attend.

The Howells

During the first half of the 20th century there were several well-known families of lampworkers, including the Howell family. All of the women in the family demonstrated glassmaking: matriarch Ethel Maude Howell, daughters Grace Howell and Nona Deakin, and daughters-in-law Marie Howell and Verna Howell. Grace in particular found success demonstrating at festivals, for scouting troops, and making appearances on TV variety shows. She was perhaps best known for dressing up as Mrs. Santa Claus each December and demonstrating lampworking at the Manhattan Savings Bank in New York City during the 1960s.

A black and white photograph of a family of lampworkers in a booth. Two young women stand in front of the booth at either side. Seated behind the booth are, from left to right, a woman, a man, and a young man. The booth and shelves behind the booth are covered in pieces of glass, including items such as stags, ships, vases, and bunches of grapes.

Nona, Ethel, and Grace Howell are pictured here alongside their male relatives. Howell Family of Chelmsford, 1937-1945. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 151522.

These are only a few of the many women itinerant glassworkers who performed for crowds. They, alongside circus performers, actresses, lecturers, singers, vaudeville stars, and others working in the public eye proved that women had a right to be in that space. Each time they appeared in front of an audience they broke the boundaries, putting themselves in the spotlight instead of staying at home.

A version of this post was originally published on the Re/Visionist on December 16, 2019.


A splendid bauble: The Lord Mayor’s Coach

One of the great State Coaches of the United Kingdom, the Lord Mayor of London’s State Coach is an elaborate confection of carved and gilded wood. Built in 1757 and still in regular use, the coach has been depicted in engravings, photographs, and even glass.

The Lord Mayor's Coach, an elaborate gold and red carriage.

The Lord Mayor’s Coach. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Tony Hisgett, CC BY 2.0)

In 1805, American chemist and educator Benjamin Silliman described the coach as “one of the most splendid baubles that ever amused the great children of this world or set the crowd agape. It is an ancient machine, in a style of ponderous and clumsy magnificence. Its exterior is almost completely covered with gilding, and its panels [sic] are adorned with fine paintings. On its top, gilded images are blowing trumpets, and its angles are supported by images that have not their prototype in earth, sea or air. The horses were sumptuously caparisoned; plumes nodded on their heads, and party coloured ribbons were interwoven among their locks. The coachmen, footmen, and postilions looked as though they had been dipped in liquid gold, and sprinkled with fragments of diamonds.”1

Twenty-five years later, the itinerant glassworker Scott listed a “most accurate” glass model of the Lord Mayor’s Coach with six horses and attendants on the handbill for his show in Brighton, England.2 It must have been a tricky sculpture to replicate accurately, given the detail of the original.

Lord Mayor’s Show

The coach is perhaps most recognized as a regular feature of the annual Lord Mayor’s Show. This procession dates back to the 16th century, celebrating each newly-appointed Lord Mayor of London. At first, the Lord Mayor rode through the London streets on horseback or traveled on the River Thames in a barge, but that changed in 1710, when new mayor Gilbert Heathcote fell off his horse  and broke his leg (supposedly the fault of a drunken flower girl). In the years that followed, the appointees used hired carriages, until Sir Charles Asgill commissioned the current coach in anticipation of his turn as Lord Mayor. Asgill ordered the coach from Joseph Berry of Leather Lane, Holborn for £860; architect and sculptor Sir Robert Taylor designed it.3

black and white photograph of the Lord Mayor's coach surrounded by attendants

Sir Marcus Samuel, Lord Mayor of London makes his way to Westminster Abbey from Guildhall for the Coronation of Edward VII, 1902. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Argent Archer, public domain)

Description of the coach

The coach’s intricate elements “emphasise the importance of London’s port and of the City’s trade.” The Museum of London describes them as such: “The coachman’s seat is supported by tritons, mythical sea creatures, and his footrest is formed from a scallop shell. The coach is supported at each corner by child angels, or cherubs, representing the four known continents: Asia, Africa, America and Europe. The City’s coat of arms, including fire-breathing dragons decorate the back of the coach. Three of the main coach panels show the City’s guardian spirit, or Genius. In the back panel she receives goods from around the world, including elephant tusks, an Arabian horse and a lion. The front panel depicts a female figure representing Hope who points at the dome of St Paul’s cathedral. The smaller side panels represent moral qualities or virtues: Truth, Temperance, Justice and Fortitude.”4

Today, the coach is housed in the Museum of London for most of the year and brought out for the Lord Mayor’s Show each November.

The event is still known for its pomp and pageantry. In 2013, a parade of 6,000 people, 20 bands, more than 200 horses, and 150 parade floats made its way through the streets of London to celebrate the second woman to ever hold the post of Lord Mayor, Fiona Woolf. 5

First-hand accounts

The Lord Mayor’s Show has had its share of grumblers. Thirty-one years before the coach made its debut in the procession, César de Saussure, a Swiss traveler, wrote, “The populace is particularly insolent and rowdy, turning into lawless freedom the great liberty it enjoys. At these times it is almost dangerous for an honest man and more particularly for a foreigner, if at all well dressed, to walk in the streets, for he runs the great risk of being insulted by the vulgar populace, which is the most cursed brood in existence.” 6

etching and engraving of Lord Mayor's Show, coach surrounded by crowds

The Industrious ‘Prentice Lord Mayor of London: Industry and Idleness, 1747. Source: Wikimedia Commons (William Hogarth, artist, public domain)

Samuel Pepys, the noted diarist, wrote about the day of the parade in October 1660: “29th. I up early, it being my Lord Mayor’s day, (Sir Richd. Browne), and neglecting my office I went to the Wardrobe, where I met my Lady Sandwich and all the children; and after drinking of some strange and incomparable good clarett of Mr. Rumball’s he and Mr. Townsend did take us, and set the young Lords at one Mr. Nevill’s, a draper in Paul’s churchyard; and my Lady and my Lady Pickering and I to one Mr. Isaacson’s, a linendraper at the Key in Cheapside; where there was a company of fine ladies, and we were very civilly treated, and had a very good place to see the pageants, which were many, and I believe good, for such kind of things, but in themselves but poor and absurd.

“After the ladies were placed I took Mr. Townsend and Isaacson to the next door, a tavern, and did spend 5s. upon them. The show being done, we got as far as Paul’s with much ado, where I left my Lady in the coach, and went on foot with my Lady Pickering to her lodging, which was a poor one in Blackfryars, where she never invited me to go in at all, which methought was very strange for her to do. So home, where I was told how my Lady Davis is now come to our next lodgings, and has locked up the leads door from me, which puts me into so great a disquiet that I went to bed, and could not sleep till morning at it.”7

Clumsy or magnificent, astounding or absurd, the Lord Mayor’s Coach and the Lord Mayor’s Show are certainly a sight to see.


The case of the glass eye smuggler

And now for something completely different! Context posts are related to itinerant glassworkers in some – often tangential – way. Like a story about glass eye smuggling, a profile of a circus performer, or a post about the 19th-century roller rink craze.

In October 1911, United States customs agents arrested Bruno Schulze, a rather ordinary-looking business man, for smuggling 15,000 glass prosthetic eyes into the country. Over the next 12 months, the bizarre case of Schulze’s smuggling empire unfolded before a fascinated public.

Why would Schulze illegally import glass eyes? Lampworkers have been using glass to create prosthetic eyes since the 16th century. The material is durable, relatively comfortable, and, when shaped by an expert (called an ocularist), the resulting prosthetic is very realistic.1 German ocularists developed a special formula for glass that produced high-quality products, and their skills in making eyes were unmatched. So while ocularists created prosthetics in the United States, German-made eyes were more desirable. Schulze wanted to sell the best products, but wasn’t interested in paying the 60% duty charged by the U.S. government.2 So he hatched a plan to secretly bring the eyes into the country and spent more than a decade profiting from his scheme. Until customs agents caught on . . .

The “king” of glass eye smugglers

Black and white photo of Bruno “von Schoenewitz" and his signature

Bruno “von Schoenewitz,” 1909 and 1915 US passport applications. Source: Ancestry.com.

Name: Bruno C. L. Schulze
Alias: Baron von Schoenewitz (or the longer “Bruno Von Schoenowitz Freiherr Von Ungarswerth und Adlersloewen“)
Age: 43
Height: 5’7”
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Crime: Smuggling German-made glass eyes into the United States

Before the arrest

Customs officials had tracked Schulze for months, trying to pin him down. He’d been importing glass eyes for more than a decade, supplying ocularists around the United States. Some said he had a monopoly on the trade. Schulze was suspected of evading the 60% duty charged on foreign-made glass eyes. By doing so, he undersold other dealers and put many small firms out of business. Officials had finally gathered enough evidence to arrest him, thanks to a report from special Treasury agents who tailed Schulze in Europe while he bought 15,000 new glass eyes to sell on the American market. All that was left to do was find him . . .

Shallow box filled with glass prosthetic eyes

107 Glass Eyes with Box, Leopold Blaschka, possibly 1850-1887. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 93.3.73.

October 30, 1911

Bruno Schulze was arrested as “Baron von Schoenewitz” upon his arrival in New York City on the steamship New Amsterdam of the Holland-American line. He was charged with smuggling 15,000 glass eyes into the United States.

November 3, 1911

newspaper clipping

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 5, 1911.

Customs agents raided Schulze’s Hoboken, N.J., “factory” (a front for his smuggling business) and found 14,000 glass eyes, foreign bills of sale, and other paperwork they could use to prove his guilt.3 Philip Stroh, a local printer, was arrested on a charge of conspiracy. He was suspected of being Schulze’s fence (or middleman). Agents arrived at his office too late to seize the documents they were looking for, instead finding the “office stove burning brightly with papers.”

November 4, 1911

Schulze and Stroh were both released on $5,000 cash bails.4

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, November 5, 1911.

November 5, 1911

New York and Washington, D.C., newspapers picked up the story, calling Schulze the “king” of glass eye smugglers. They described him as a “Handsome and Distinguished Looking” gentleman with a high forehead; blond, curly hair; mustache, and “superconfident eyes of blue.”5 He was not what came to mind when they thought of a smuggler. Customs agents had a different opinion. They told the New York Sun that Schulze had been in trouble with them before, and described him as having a “defiant air and bulldozing and unusually egotistical manner.”

November 18, 1911

The National Glass Budget wrote that Schulze was awaiting trial before United States Commissioner Edward Russ at Hoboken. Agents reported that Schulze used employees of German steamers to secretly transport the eyes on and off the ships.6

Detail of Preis-Liste über Emaille-Augen mit schwarzer Pupille, L. W. Schaufuss, 1866. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 54006.

November 30, 1911

The story of Schulze’s arrest and the raid was reported around the nation. A reporter for the St. Paul Journal joked: “with all his eyes [Schulze] couldn’t elude the vigilance of the customs sleuths.”

December 3, 1911

newspaper clipping

Trenton (NJ) Evening Times, December 5, 1911.

Newspapers reported that customs special agent George P. Locke seized 600 glass eyes from the offices of St. Paul, M.N., optician W. H. Kindy.7 Kindy was not arrested, having purchased the eyes from Schulze without knowing of his criminal actions. Agents now estimated that Schulze smuggled 100,000 eyes into the country over the past 11 years, a $700,000 value. That meant Schulze owed the U.S. government about $420,000 in duties (roughly $10.5 million in today’s dollars).

January 5, 1912

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, January 5, 1912.

Schulze’s problems were compounded when a customs inspector arrested him again, this time for importing glass animal eyes for less than half of their true value. Schulze’s bail was set at $10,000, which he was unable to pay. He was transported to the Tombs.8

February 17, 1912

Schulze was convicted on two counts for smuggling the shipment of 15,000 eyes into the United States. Prosecutor Mark P. Anderson believed Schulze would “get about all that the law allows.” The maximum sentence was four years with a fine of $10,000. Schulze’s associate, printer Philip Stroh, was reported to have supplied Schulze with “letterheads of a fictitious German manufacturer,” which he then used to get “false consular invoices” that undervalued the imported eyes.9

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, February 19, 1912.

May 8, 1912

newspaper clipping

The New York Sun, May 9, 1912.

13,961 of the glass eyes seized in the raids were sold at a public auction in the Jersey City post office. According to the official announcement, only one eye in the lot was damaged. The Sun reported that the eyes “were packed in crates like strictly fresh eggs.”10 Two bidders split the lot, paying about 24 cents apiece. Buried at the end of the article was the news that Schulze was somehow able to escape and was at large.

June 4, 1912

The United States District Attorney’s office in Chicago filed United States vs. 2,659 glass eyes against the Geneva Optical Company for knowingly purchasing smuggled eyes from Schulze. The value of the glass eyes was set at $569. If the company could not successfully defend themselves, the eyes would be sold at public auction by the United States Marshal.

box with components showing how glass prosthetic eyes are made

Case of Glass Eyes, Tamworth Associates and F. and S. Danz, 1929-1940. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 52.4.58.

October 4, 1912

newspaper clipping

The Montgomery (AL) Times, October 4, 1912.

Newspapers reported that the judge in the United States vs. 2,659 glass eyes case ordered the United States Marshals to auction off the eyes at a public sale.11

October 16, 1912

Bidder J. W. Sturtevant picked up all 2,659 glass eyes unopposed at the public auction. He paid the bargain price of $455. The Inter Ocean added some color, describing the eyes as “perfect blues, browns, grays, and blacks, and others with a blend of colors that never fail to attract.” From United States Marshal chief deputy John P. Wolf: “Are they not beautiful?”12

newspaper clipping

The Chicago Inter Ocean, October 17, 1912.

The end?

It is unclear what happened to Schulze, or whether he continued his criminal activities. In 1915, he used his alias to apply for a passport. His residence was listed as Philadelphia, P.A., and his occupation as merchant. After that, the trail dries up. Schulze/Schoenowitz fades from view.

glass prosthetic eye

Glass Eye, Leopold Blaschka, possibly 1850-1887. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass, 93.3.73-24


So what do prosthetic eyes have to do with itinerant glassworkers? Several early glassworkers included glass eyes in their list of products. One such artisan not only made eyes of such quality “that they cannot be discerned from the Natural Eyes,” but also “he teacheth how [customers] may fix them in their Heads themselves, to the great Satisfaction of all persons that make use of them.”13 Spectacular!


Scott’s splendid glass working exhibition in miniature

“Superior to any thing of the kind ever offered for public inspection.”

A bold statement, but itinerant glassworker Scott had a list of reasons why his exhibition was a must-see display in 1830s Brighton, England. This handbill, distributed around town, features a detailed image of Scott, surrounded by fascinated onlookers, as he manipulates glass rods over a flame. Along with the many magnificent pieces of glass he claimed would be on display, who could resist stopping by 115 St. James Street?

handbill with text describing a glassworking demonstration. the handbill also has an illustration of a glass artist lampworking in front of a table covered in objects; he is surrounded by onlookers.

Scott’s Splendid Glass Working Exhibition in Miniature. United Kingdom: 1830. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 138463.

Location

Scott had previously exhibited his show in London, where he demonstrated to the nobility and gentry who shopped at the exclusive boutiques in Burlington Arcade. So he may have seen some familiar faces in the seaside town of Brighton, which had become a fashionable resort during the Georgian era. Many visitors came to “take the cure” by drinking or bathing in seawater, while others were “attracted by the presence of Royalty.”1

Watercolor painting of Brighton beach and promenade

Brighton: the front and the chain pier seen in the distance. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Frederick William Woledge, painter, public domain). Courtesy of the Paul Mellon Collection, Yale Center for British Art, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut.

“Brighton,” wrote Charles Knight, a British editor and author, “stands near the centre of the curved line of coast of which the east and west points are respectively Beachy Head and Selsea Bill. The town is built on a slope, and is defended from the north winds by the high land of the South Downs, which, from Beachy Head as far as the central part of Brighton, press close on the sea and form high chalk cliffs. From the central part of Brighton westward the hills recede farther from the sea, leaving a level coast.”2

Watercolor painting of Brighton Beach, showing several boats on the beach, with buildings to the right on the cliff.

Brighton Beach Looking West, undated. Source: Wikimedia Commons (John Constable, painter, public domain)

On the town itself, Knight commented, “The best part of Brighton may be described as composed of ranges of splendid houses, formed into squares and handsome streets. The parish church of St. Nicholas, an ancient edifice, stands on a hill north-west of the town. The town-hall, begun in 1830, on the site of the old market, nearly in the centre of the town, is a large but ill-designed edifice . . . The inns, hotels, and baths of Brighton are numerous, and there are several places of amusement – a theatre, an assembly room, a club house, and, about a mile east of the town, on the summit of a beautiful part of the Downs, a fine race-course. The trade of Brighton is confined exclusively to the supply of the wants of a rich population.” 3 When Scott demonstrated in Brighton in 1830, this population had swelled to over 40,000 people, up from just over half that number a decade prior.

Illustration of a dance filled with people in fancy dress.

The Circular Room, or a Squeeze at Carlton Palace, The English Spy, 1825. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Isaac Cruikshank, illustrator, public domain)

Writer Mary Philadelphia Merrifield described Brighton crowds in the 1850s: “Gaily-dressed ladies, and over-dressed children, throng the esplanades; the military band plays in the Pavilion grounds twice a week; the Town and other bands are met on the Cliff; groups of Ethiopian Serenaders parade the streets; Wizards from the North, South, East, and West, send forth their advertisements, and hope to draw crows to the Pavilion, Dome, or Concert Hall.”4

Illustration of people on foot and horseback traveling up and down a promenade

Characters on the Steyne, Brighton, The English Spy, 1825. Source: Wikimedia Commons (Isaac Cruikshank, illustrator, public domain)

Patrons

Scott appealed directly to this wealthy population in his advertisement, informing the “Nobility, Gentry, Visitors, and Inhabitants of Brighton” that his exhibition was open for a “short time” on St. James Street. Some of the attendees would doubtlessly be members of the fashionable crowd spotted in ballrooms and on promenades.

But Scott had an advantage over his fellow “Wizards”: he had the patronage of the Duchess of Kent and her daughter, Princess Victoria. Crowned queen in 1837, Victoria was eleven years old in 1830, still living under the protective watch of her mother and Sir John Conroy. Perhaps the princess and her mother saw Scott at the Burlington Arcade, although it seems much more likely that he would have demonstrated for them privately at Kensington Palace. Either way, their patronage was a powerful marketing tool for Scott, especially given that Victoria had recently become the heir presumptive to the British throne.

Queen Victoria and her husband, Prince Albert, later became significant patrons of the arts. They collected, curated, patronized, and promoted artists and creators of many disciplines.5 Did Victoria ever think of the dazzling glass objects created by Scott? Fellow British glassworker Lawrence Finn claimed that part of the queen’s wedding dress was made of spun glass, so perhaps Scott’s talent for spinning 1,000 yards of glass per minute into delicate threads made an impression.6

Show highlights

Scott’s handbill proclaims the show was “by far the most instructive, entertaining, and cheap exhibition.” Admission was one shilling for adults7 and sixpence for children and servants. This price would gain a visitor entry to witness Scott’s splendid skills and “a Specimen . . . in any Article they may select or desire to have made.”

“The Artist” delighted audience members by “Working, Blowing, and Modelling” objects in a variety of colors, “exhibited so as to give at one view an idea of this most ingenious manufacture.” As mentioned above, Scott used a spinning wheel (shown in the advertisement) to spin one pound of glass into 20,000 yards of thread, at the rate of 1,000 yards per minute.8

Also to be seen was a glass ship, the Lord Mayor’s coach with six horses, and many other wonders “patronized . . . by every Family of distinction in England.” Visitors must have been fascinated by Scott’s hydraulic glass skeleton, which was “kept in continual motion by itself, showing how the blood passes through the different channels of the human frame.” This model was apparently a favorite of the royal family.9 Featured for sale were a variety of glass goods, including vases, chandeliers, hydrostatic balloons, and fancy figures.

Between his royal patronage and the wonders described on his advertisement, it is easy to imagine Scott’s exhibition was well attended by many people of quality in the busy seaside resort of Brighton.

A version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on May 7, 2014.


Johannes Kunckel on the art of lampworking

In 1679, Johannes Kunckel published his translation of Antonio Neri’s L’Arte vetraria (The Art of Glass): Ars Vitraria experimentalis, oder vollkommene Glasmacher-Kunst. Neri’s book was the first to focus solely on the subject of glassmaking and became an important manual for European glassmakers.1

Reprinted and translated into several languages, the book was owned by everyone from Galileo Galilei to Charles II, king of England. Each time the book was translated, the author would add his own glass knowledge, making L’Arte vetraria a living text. A chemist and director of a glassworks, Kunckel made his mark on the German translation by including the first-known description of lampworking.

In a section titled “On little glass blowing,” Kunckel writes:

“The technique of lamp blowing is not the most useful in the art of glass but it is a sector of glass art that makes it possible to create elegant objects. I shall offer a brief description here.

“First of all, one must procure small canes or perforated tubes, also partially solid, of good clear glass and of any kind of color in a furnace. The best pieces are those of broken Venetian glass. One needs a workbench (A), as can be seen in the illustration [below], where four or more persons can work, each with a lamp (B) fueled by colza oil or something similar, supplied by a robust wick of pressed cotton. Below the bench are bellows (D), driven by the craftsman by means of a pedal (E) that pushes the air through a small metal tube going across the bench. The end of the small tube is indicated as (C), inside of which another small tube that is curved forwards is inserted, ending with a narrow hole for the air to come out, which, striking the flame of the lamp the craftsman is working with, produces a concentrated and slim flame. The procedure is similar to the one adopted by a goldsmith to solder and cast metals. Once can also just use the mouth to blow on the tube. This results in a pointed flame that produces such a blazing heat that even the hardest glass softens.

“One takes a small glass tube and heats it in the flame at one end, while blowing at the other, thus creating a ball and anything else one desires, for example figurines, crucifixes, or small vases. Small tweezers and metal wire are also used to join the pieces of glass that the craftsman is heating in the flame. The small tube C is opposite each craftsman sitting at the bench. G is a small pulley with the rope that drives the bellows. F is a metal (or wood) funnel that is linked to a tube to allow the smoke and vapors from the lamp to escape. This art requires great study and an expert teacher.”2

Engraving of lampworking setup with three people around a wooden table, underneath which are bellows. On the table are three lamps which the people are using to shape glass.

Engraving of a lampworking workshop, Ars Vitraria Experimentalis, Johannes Kunckel, 1689. (Figure X opposite page 398.) Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 81288.

Kunckel’s description of lampworking has been quoted, translated, and copied countless times, influencing the reputation of this art for generations.3

Read Kunckel’s text in the original German4 and explore other editions of Antonio Neri’s L’Arte vetraria. For more on Neri and his work, visit Paul Engle’s website, Conciatore.org.


Following the trail of Lawrence Finn

handbill describing Finn's show

Exhibition of Fancy Glass Working and Spinning United States Hotel, Private Entrance : Mr. Finn. Augusta, Georgia: 1840-1843. CMGL 164968.

Lawrence Finn never stayed in one place for too long. Like many itinerant glassworkers, he was always on the move, traveling across the country to find new audiences. We don’t know much about his life, but let’s take the few clues we have and see if we can find Finn.

Where in the world is Lawrence Finn?

Tracking the path of someone who lived almost 200 years ago can be tricky. Today some people leave a minute-by-minute trail of their lives, but a traveling demonstrator like Lawrence Finn left few lasting records in his wake. Luckily, the job that kept Finn on the road also gives us an advantage when looking for him. When he set up shop in a new location he needed to attract customers, and Finn did so by advertising in the local newspapers and distributing handbills and broadsides. Sometimes the same newspapers would review his show. This paper trail gives us a fairly accurate idea of his travels.

Trail of evidence

Finn was British, and based on advertisements and historical data we can connect him to another Lawrence Finn, likely his father or uncle. This older Finn performed in London, England, before and during the time the younger Finn traveled around the United States. Therefore when both are in the United Kingdom, it can be difficult to determine which Finn was responsible for certain advertisements.

handbill describing one of the Finn's London shows

Finn’s Fancy Glass-Working Exhibition. London: 1815. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 112199.

Based on passenger logs and newspaper advertisements, we know the younger Finn likely arrived in New York, New York, from London in October 1827 and rented rooms at 202 Broadway. He opened his exhibition there on Monday, November 12, 1827. At the time, he was perhaps the second itinerant glassworker to perform in the United States.1

newspaper ad

This is the first advertisement Finn placed in the newspaper upon arriving in New York City. Source: New York Historic Newspapers

This first show featured Finn exhibiting his “most curious and pleasing experiments of Fancy Glass Working, Spinning, and Blowing,” and making “articles of the most fanciful description,” including “ships, figures, quadrupeds, birds, flower vases, &c. &c. &c.”2 He worked from 11am to 3pm, and again between 6pm and 10pm. Potential audience members could buy tickets for 25 cents ($6.40 in today’s dollars); children were half price. Finn especially encouraged “heads of families and guardians” to attend his demonstrations.

Other itinerant glassworkers often visited smaller cities and towns, but, based on the surviving advertisements, Finn’s strategy was to stay in large cities near tourist destinations. His New York address, 202 Broadway, was located across the street from St. Paul’s Chapel and down the street from New York City Hall,  Peale’s Museum, and Scudder’s American Museum (later P. T. Barnum’s American Museum).3

At the beginning of 1829, Finn closed his exhibition at 202 Broadway and spent the next few months demonstrating in Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In D.C., he was located near the National Mall on Pennsylvania Avenue — close to where the FBI and Department of Justice buildings are today. He extended his stay in the city due to bad weather, but eventually traveled to Philadelphia, where he set up his show in the Masonic Hall. There, a local newspaper praised Finn’s demonstrations as “highly deserving of patronage,” writing that “few persons will attend the [exhibition] without being much gratified.”4

After a few years, Finn moved to Boston, Massachusetts, and opened his exhibition to a new audience. He was situated near the Old South Meeting House, the Old State House, King’s Chapel, and Benjamin Franklin’s birthplace. A handbill for the show proclaims, “The process of Modeling Figures and Animals from the glass, in a state of Fusion, is so wonderfully curious, as to strike the beholder with astonishment – and must be witnessed, to decide on its merits, as no description can convey an adequate idea of the pleasure it affords.”5

Finn didn’t stay in Boston for long. By the beginning of 1832, he had traveled far south and was demonstrating lampworking above a jewelry store at 115 Chartres Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. Once again it seems he chose his location carefully, renting space in the French Quarter. The price of admission for his show had doubled to 50 cents, and he made additional revenue by selling figurines and ornaments “well adapted for relatives or friends.”6

Finn demonstrated in four New Orleans locations, including this room over a jewelry store. Source: Google News

Over the next decade, Finn revisited many of these cities. He traveled back to New York and Washington, D.C., then Boston, and finally New Orleans. He may have stopped in other cities in between, like Augusta, Georgia, but sometimes his trail dries up for a year or two. Even with all the information we have, Finn’s life and location is still a mystery at times.

Mapping Finn’s route

Examining individual advertisements, reviews, or travel records provides insight into Finn’s life, but arranging multiple documents chronologically and mapping his movements gives us an even better idea of how he spent his time in the United States.

Finn visited New York City, Washington, D.C., Boston, and New Orleans repeatedly, and traveled mostly along the East Coast. Among the cities he visited from the late 1820s through the early 1840s, those mentioned above (excluding Washington, D.C., and including Philadelphia) were among the top five most populous cities of the United States. Only Baltimore, Maryland – at the time, the second largest city in the country – is missing from Finn’s itinerary, although it is entirely likely he demonstrated there, given his travel habits and exhibitions in nearby Washington, D.C. By choosing these major cities as tour stops, Finn exposed his show to hundreds of thousands of people, thereby increasing his potential revenue and popularity. The fact that he was employed by Rubens Peale and John Scudder, Jr., (both owners of successful New York City museums) speaks to his success.

Explore Lawrence Finn’s path from London to New York and beyond using this map.

A version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on June 13, 2017.


How it works: Cartesian diver experiment

What is a Cartesian diver?

cartesian diver illustrated

Source: Elementary Treatise on Natural Philosophy Part I, A. Privat Deschanel, 1872, p. 108

A Cartesian diver is an experiment used to demonstrate the relationship between density and buoyancy.

Density describes how much matter is in a certain volume. Imagine filling two measuring cups, one with vegetable oil and the other with water. Now imagine placing those cups on a kitchen scale. You would find that one cup of vegetable oil has a mass of 223 grams and one cup of water has a mass of 240 grams. Vegetable oil has less matter in one cup than water, so vegetable oil is less dense than water.

Buoyancy is the ability of an object to float in water. If you poured the vegetable oil and water into the same container, the vegetable oil would be buoyant and float on the water.

You can change the density and buoyancy of a Cartesian diver at will, making it float or sink (hence Cartesian “diver”).

Cartesian divers are thought to be named for René Descartes. You may know them by another name, such as Cartesian devils, water devils, water dancers, or bottle imps. A Cartesian diver is made up of several parts: a bottle or vessel filled with water, a lid or an air-tight membrane, and a “diver” (often a piece of a straw or a flameworked glass object).

How does it work?

gif of glass cartesian diver in use

On the table in front of you sits a Cartesian diver. The diver is floating because it is less dense than the water. If you apply pressure to the vessel, the gas within the diver is compressed, and the diver’s density increases to the point that is no longer able to float in the water. Thus, the diver lives up to its name and sinks to the bottom. However, if you release the pressure, the gas expands to its original volume and the Cartesian diver becomes a Cartesian floater!

How did itinerant glassworkers use Cartesian divers?

Today, you might make a Cartesian diver in science class, but for hundreds of years they were made and used by itinerant glassworkers. These artisans made all sorts of models and contraptions to entertain their audiences, including Cartesian divers.

handbill with text and two images of glassworkers blowing glass and using a cartesian diver

Dieser Hollaendische porcellain-glass-blaser, 1670? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 112252.

One of the earliest known records of these glassworkers is an advertisement for a demonstration in Poland circa 1670. On the right-hand side of the handbill, a Dutch glassworker is using a Cartesian diver with three figures, or “divers,” inside. Based on the description below the image, the glassworker promoted the experiment as a magic trick rather than a science experiment. He claimed he could command each figure to move up or down in four different languages and the figure would obey.

Cartesian divers remained a popular part of itinerant glassworkers’ shows, whether billed as magic or science. During the 1800s, many middle-class Americans wanted to be educated while they were entertained, and went to scientific demonstrations, lectures, and museum exhibitions in droves. Glassworkers accordingly included a growing number of experiments and lectures in their shows, and Cartesian divers were often shown alongside pulse glass circulators, philosopher’s hammers, cryophorus deception glasses, and hydro-pneumatic fountains.

a black and white photo with a man in a white coat and beret seated and flameworking at a table. on the table are a cartesian diver, a glass steam engine, and several other small models

John T. Backman Flameworking Glass Ship, McCroskey Studio, 1930s. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 152150.

Itinerant glassworkers continued to perform into the 1900s, but the advent of mass entertainment drew audiences away from itinerant performers of all types. Glassworkers looked for alternative options, like starting their own stationary tourist attractions or joining a circus as a side show. Cartesian divers remained popular elements of their demonstrations.

How do you make a Cartesian diver?

gif demonstrating how a diy cartesian diver worksYou can make your own Cartesian diver with things you probably already have around the house and these step-by-step instructions.

This post was co-written by Kathryn Wieczorek; both Cartesian diver gifs are provided by her. A version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on April 4, 2017.

What is an itinerant glassworker?

An itinerant glassworker was a lampworker (or flameworker) who traveled from town to town performing for audiences, much like a member of a circus or a traveling theater troupe.

For more than 300 years, itinerant glassworkers entertained and educated crowds on the art, science, and skill of glassmaking, and the dizzying array of wonders that could be made of glass. These artisans contributed to a tradition that lives on today in flameworking demonstrations at museums, studios, and other attractions.

Itinerant glassworkers, likely Mrs. and Mr. F.A. Owen, stand behind a table covered in lampworked glass.

Glass Exhibition Featuring Spinning Wheel and Glass Steam Engine, 1904. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 131372.

Shows

A typical itinerant glassworker show included three main elements:

  1. Demonstrations of lampworking techniques such as glassblowing, spinning, and working.
  2. Showpieces such as elaborate glass models and scientific experiments.
  3. Displays of glass objects that audiences could purchase or were given with the price of admission.

Additional entertainments included lectures, live music, dancing, and competitions for glass prizes.

Timeline

Here is a rough timeline of the history of itinerant glassworkers:

1670s-1800s: Earliest known performers

handbill with text and two images of itinerant glassworkers blowing glass and using a cartesian diver

Dieser Hollaendische porcellain-glass-blaser, 1670? Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 112252.

As early as the 1670s, itinerant glassworkers performed in Europe. There are few records for this period; most are from the United Kingdom. These early artisans established the blueprint for itinerant glassworker shows going forward. They performed for royalty and tavern-goers alike, and positioned themselves as entertainment suitable for all audiences. Most demonstrated solo, and they typically offered practical items for sale alongside more fanciful objects. They did not list admission prices on their handbills or in newspaper advertisements, so it is unclear whether onlookers had to pay to watch their demonstrations.

1800s-1830s: Glassworkers demonstrate in Europe

handbill with text describing a glassworking demonstration. the handbill also has an illustration of an itinerant glassworker lampworking in front of a table covered in objects; he is surrounded by onlookers.

Scott’s Splendid Glass Working Exhibition in Miniature. United Kingdom: 1830. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 138463.

Based on surviving evidence, the number of itinerant performers and the popularity of their shows increased, especially in the United Kingdom. Glassworkers demonstrated in large towns like London, Glasgow, and Bath. They also traveled through the countryside visiting small towns and villages. Several first-hand accounts from audience members survive from this period, documenting the public’s fascination with the art of glass. These glassworkers created models based on famous landmarks and scenes that their audiences would have recognized. Some offered custom gifts such as the likeness of any dog in glass.

1810s-1850s: Glassworkers come to North America

handbill describing an itinerant glassworker show

Exhibition of Fancy Glass Working and Spinning United States Hotel, Private Entrance : Mr. Finn. Augusta, Georgia: 1840-1843. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 164968.

Eighteenth-century Americans, influenced by their Puritan backgrounds, often shunned traveling entertainers and educators of any sort, some going so far as to outlaw circuses, traveling menageries, and acting troupes. Once those restrictions were lifted, entertainers found success touring cities along the East Coast. The earliest known performance in the United States by an itinerant glassworker was in New York City in 1819. More European and American-born glassworkers followed, touring large cities like Washington, D.C., Boston, and New Orleans, as well as small villages and towns. Glassworkers continued to tour in Europe as well.

1840s-1890s: The rise of troupes and the glass steam engine

Illustration of a steam engine made of glass

The Great Double Working Glass Steam Engine Fairy Queen!, 1861. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 45696.

The Woodroffe brothers, three of the best-known glassworkers of this period, helped to establish new traditions in the trade with the formation of glassworking troupes and the popularization of glass steam engines. This was the heyday for itinerant glassworkers all over the world. Their shows were well-attended attractions in towns, at world’s fairs, in circuses, and in museums, and they traveled to places like South Africa, Indonesia, and Tasmania. This was also the time in which women-led troupes traveled in their highest numbers, including those of Madam Nora, Madam Anderson, and Madam J. Reith.

1900s-1930s: The advent of mass entertainment

a black and white photo with an itinerant glassworker in a white coat and beret seated and flameworking at a table. on the table are a cartesian diver, a glass steam engine, and several other small models

John T. Backman Flameworking Glass Ship, McCroskey Studio, 1930s. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 152150.

With the increased availability of entertainment technology such as phonographs, radio, movies, and later, television, as well as faster and cheaper transportation, potential audiences had more options for how to spend their leisure time. Because of this, itinerant performers of all types were forced to adapt. Many still went on tour, but others began to rely more heavily on appearances alongside other attractions. Some formed troupes with other types of entertainers or created dime museums. This was the beginning of the end for those lampworkers who could survive by leading a truly itinerant lifestyle.

1940s-1970s: From performers to artists

nona and john deakin demonstrate lampworking in their shop in sarasota florida

Nona and John Deakin Flameworking, Robert H. Ford, August 26, 1946, Larry Williams Collection. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 152152.

Most of the remaining performers grew roots, and the itinerant lifestyle all but died out. Families of flameworkers opened shops or contracted with attractions like Disney World. Other glassworkers demonstrated at museums like the Corning Museum of Glass or stayed close to home. With the advent of the Studio glass movement, many flameworkers distanced themselves from the itinerant tradition. They began to establish themselves as members of the fine arts/crafts world and didn’t want to be associated with glassworkers who demonstrated flameworking at state fairs and shopping malls, making what they saw as kitsch or low-quality glasswork.

1950s-today: New performers

jen kuhn flameworker demonstrating at the corning museum of glass

Jen Kuhn demonstrates flameworking at the Corning Museum of Glass. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass.

The tradition of glass demonstrations continues in museums, at studios, and with mobile hotshop programs like GlassLab and GlassBarge (both projects of the Corning Museum of Glass). Flameworkers are eager to learn more about the history of their craft, and a new generation of flameworkers are inspired by their itinerant predecessors. Some create models inspired by glass steam engines, while others find innovative ways to make flameworking more mobile. Still others recognize the value of this part of lampworking history and document it through articles, exhibitions, book chapters, and websites. A new awareness of itinerant glassworkers and their legacy is emerging.


Learn more about itinerant glassworkers, their shows, and the world around them on this site. Keep up with new posts by subscribing to my monthly newsletter.

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