the history of itinerant glassworkers

Tag: glass spinning

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.


The Grand Bohemian Troupe of Fancy Glass Workers

In January 2019, I was fortunate enough to organize an event about itinerant glassworkers at The Corning Museum of Glass. Their Behind the Glass lecture series was the perfect way to introduce the topic to hundreds of attendees (and now thousands more viewers on YouTube). In addition to my presentation on the history of itinerant glassworkers, the evening featured a lecture and demonstration from lampworker Bandhu Dunham and demonstrations by lampworkers David Sandidge, Caitlin Hyde, and Eric Goldschmidt.

Here is our modern take on an itinerant glassworker performance:

The program for the evening was as follows:

  • 00:00:05: Glass spinning demonstration, Eric Goldschmidt
  • 00:01:10: “Curiosity Highly Gratified: An Illustrated Lecture on the Most Interesting History of Itinerant Glassworkers,” Rebecca Hopman
  • 00:19:05 (and ongoing): Loop-stitch pirate ship demonstration, David Sandidge1
  • 00:22:00: “Kinetic Glass Sculpture” lecture, Bandhu Dunham
  • 00:48:15 (and ongoing): Steam-powered magnifying glass demonstration, Bandhu Dunham
  • 00:53:42 (and ongoing): Hollowed pig demonstration, Caitlin Hyde
  • 00:55:53 (and ongoing): Crystal-clear decanter demonstration, Eric Goldschmidt
  • 00:56:50 to end: additional footage of demonstrations

The troupe members were:

Corrections and updates

Of course, the history of itinerant glassworkers is still a developing field, and new information surfaces all the time. In addition to sharing this video, I’d like to include the following corrections and updates to my presentation:

  • 00:06:08: The slide of American-born glassworkers features an advertisement for Samuel Owen. While Owen emigrated to the United States at a young age and became a naturalized citizen, he was born in England.
  • 00:08:21: It’s true that the Woodroffe brothers were not Bohemian, but George and Charles Woodroffe were born in England, not the United States. Younger brother William was born an American citizen in New York state.
  • 00:13:45: A few nuances about the Howells. Robert Howell Sr. told many stories about how he came to be an itinerant glassworker, and seeing a glass steam engine at a state fair is perhaps the most romantic. It’s very possible this is true, but equally possible that he made it up at a later date. I also mention that Grace Howell learned to lampwork as early as the age of six. Like her father and her siblings, Grace varies the details of her beginnings as an itinerant glassworker. I have since found a reference that Grace began lampworking at age five. Again, it’s equally possible this is the truth or an exaggeration. In each case, it may be impossible to find the truth.
  • 00:14:08: Nora Allen sold Excelsior and Columbia to Robert Howell Sr. (instead of gifting them to him).
  • 00:14:50: Grace Howell’s Bluebird of Happiness is one of two pieces of glass currently connected to specific itinerant glassworkers in the museum’s collection. The other is Diorama of English Stag Hunt made by Charles David Aubin.
  • 00:15:25: A clarification about this slide and Nona Deakin. The slide shows two black-and-white photographs: the left features Robert Howell Jr. and his wife Marie Howell; the right features Grace Deakin and John Deakin. Grace was John’s second wife, who he married several years after Nona’s death. John Deakin learned lampworking from the Howells, so Nona did not marry into a lampworking family, her connection enabled the family to become so.
  • 00:16:09: Nona Deakin died in 1944, several years before John and his second wife Grace moved to Florida to set up their business.

You can learn more about the featured itinerant glassworkers from my presentation – Charles Woodroffe, Nora Allen, and Grace Howell – on this site, as well as the Woodroffe, Allen, and Howell families. Additional information about the other glassworkers, experiments, and trends mentioned in the lecture is also available (search the site for more).

Thanks for this event go to Karol Wight, director of The Corning Museum of Glass; museum staff Kris Wetterlund, Eric Meek, and Steve Gibbs; the amazing staff of the Rakow Research Library; the museum’s events and A/V staff; and of course my fellow presenters, in particular Eric Goldschmidt, who was my partner in organizing this evening. While this was a one-time event, I’d love to see The Grand Bohemian Troupe of Fancy Glass Workers reunite again!


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.


Samuel Owen’s brilliant and astonishing exhibition

Fresh from performing in P. T. Barnum’s Philadelphia museum, itinerant glassworker Samuel Owen published this broadside promoting his “artistic and mechanical skill” to the public.

Unlike many glassworkers, Owen did not include a location or start date for his show on the broadside. Instead, he directed interested readers to posted bills for those details. This likely saved him money, because he could use the same advertisements throughout his tour, rather than having specific copies printed for each town he visited. Regardless of place and date, Owen demonstrated twice daily at 3pm and 8pm.

Broadside for fancy glassworking show

Brilliant and Astonishing Exhibition of Artistic and Mechanical Skill. 1850. Collection of the Rakow Research Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 167731.

Pricing

Entry to the exhibition cost 12½ cents1 and each visitor received a glass pen as a memento. Including a piece of glass in the price of admission was a common strategy employed by itinerant glassworkers to entice potential customers through their doors. In this case, a pen was rather quick and simple to make, but it would likely have been exciting for a visitor to take home and show to family and friends.

Of course, Owen offered more elaborate glassware for sale, and many attendees probably bought a gift or two for friends, sweethearts, or children. Owen helpfully pointed out that the “delicacy and beauty” of his work would look especially fine displayed proudly on mantels and center tables, and offered to “make to order, upon the shortest notice, all articles in his line that any one may desire.”

Show highlights

Owen boasted that he could create “any article which fancy dictates,” including “balloons, baskets, flowers, flower vases, fountains, cupids, chariots, candlesticks, cradles, ships, smoking pipes, cigar tubes, birds of paradise,” and many other delights too numerous to mention. He did so, according to the broadside, without “tools, patterns, or molds.” He also made a number of objects for the more scientifically-minded, including thermometers, water hammers, pulse glasses, and cryophoruses.

Like many other glassworkers, Owen spun glass during his demonstrations (note the spinning wheel he is operating in the illustration above). He claimed to be able to spin 300 yards of glass fibers per minute.2

Reviews

Here are several reviews of Owen’s exhibition as printed on the broadside:

The Public Ledger in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, proclaimed: “A Rope of Sand. – The impossibility accomplished! If any one doubt it let him go to Barnum’s Museum and see Mr. Owen spin a thread of glass at the rate of more than 300 yards per minute. A sight of his work alone, to say nothing of the other novelties and curiosities, is worth the price of admission.”

The Daily News in Trenton, New Jersey, stated: “Mr. Owen, the Glass-blower, who has been with us some three weeks, during which time he has filled our city with curiosities, left us yesterday for Bordentown. Mr. Owen is a worthy, industrious man, and has made many friends during his stay among us. His art is too curious to require any commendation from us. He will find plenty of buyers in Bordentown.”

The Republican in Wilmington, Delaware, printed the following: “A Glass Pen. – We have tried one of Mr. Owen’s Glass Pens, and find that it writes very well. Those who wish to try on, have only to go to the Wilson Building, where they may not only secure one, but be entertained by a view of the mode of their manufacture, which is worth more than the price of admission.”

High praise indeed!


John Tilley’s wonderful mechanisms

To be seen in a neat Sitting Room, at 141 Broadway: the wonderful mechanisms of fancy glass blower John Tilley. This early American broadside, ca. 1820, enumerates the delights New Yorkers could observe if they paid the 25-cent admission fee to Tilley’s glassmaking and scientific exhibition.

handbill describing the show of John Tilley

Wonderful Mechanism J. Tilley, Fancy Glass Blower, from London. New York: J. Robinson, 1820. Collection of the Rakow Library, The Corning Museum of Glass, CMGL 163866.

John Tilley, originally from London, was the first known itinerant glassworker to bring his exhibition to the United States.1 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, Tilley and others found success touring cities along the East Coast.

Location

Tilley may have been the first glassworker to demonstrate in New York City, but he certainly wasn’t the last to make the city, and specifically Broadway, his home. Later artisans such as Lawrence Finn, W. Belzoni Davidson, and the Woodroffe brothers set up exhibitions in rented rooms and at museums including Barnum’s American Museum at the intersection of Broadway and Ann Street. Like it is today, the street was a center for entertainment.

Even in 1820, New York City (then confined to Manhattan) was bustling. The city’s population had grown to more than 123,000 people, close to 30,000 more than just a decade before.2 William Cobbett, a British farmer, journalist, and politician who lived on a Long Island farm from 1817 until 1819, described the city as resembling “an English town, in point of manners and customs, much more than any other place that I have seen in America.”3 He comments on the low prices and high quality of everything from the food to the household furnishings available to residents.

On women’s fashions, he states, “The most gay promenades in and about London, and even the boxes of our licenced and degraded theatres, are, in point of female dresses, perfect beggary compared with the every day exhibition in the ‘Broad way’ of New York; where the very look of every creature you meet gives evidence of the existence of no taxation without representation.” Based on Cobbet’s description, it is easy to imagine crowds of well-dressed women and men patronizing Tilley’s exhibition.

Show highlights

Like many 19th-century itinerant glassworkers, John Tilley offered his audience a range of enticing entertainments. These included “Spinning and Reeling Hot Glass round a Wheel, with the astonishing velocity of a Mile in less than two minutes” and “Blowing Glass to different degrees of thinness and forming it into various Articles, such as Writing Pens, Smelling Bottles, &c. &c.”

In addition, Tilley explained scientific properties and principles using glass models such as a Cartesian diver and a “Hydro Pneumatic Fountain.” One curious demonstration involved Tilley blowing a “small Globe,” which he said would form “nearly” a vacuum and would fall to the floor “with apparent great weight.”

While John Tilley’s exhibition was “to be seen for a few Days only,” records of his shows and innovations are still available more than two centuries later.

A version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on December 19, 2016.


Curiosity highly gratified: 6 weird and wonderful things to see at an itinerant glassworker’s show

Come one, come all, to see amazing feats of glassworking! For more than 300 years, talented, traveling 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. Add in a dancing competition or a beauty pageant and the event was a guaranteed hit. Intrigued? Here are six weird and wonderful things you might have seen at an itinerant glassworker’s show.

1. Working glass steam engines

Functional steam engines made of glass were the stars of the 19th-century itinerant glassworker’s show. Made of hundreds of small pieces, these dazzling engines fascinated audiences. They were both a feat of glassmaking and a method of demonstrating how steam power functioned during a time when real steam engines powered machinery and many modes of transportation. Soon after the first engines became popular, every traveling glassworking troupe had at least one of their own.

These glass engines were not simple models, but colorful, inventive delights. Their names alone conjure a sense of whimsy: the Fairy Queen, Excelsior, Queen of Beauty, the Australasia, the Crystal Gem. Troupes gave prizes to those who composed the best poems about their engines, and fans did not disappoint. Here are a few lines from a poem by William Somers:

When will wonders cease, we may justly enquire,
When we see a Glass Engine, complete and entire…
Incredulity starts, in most utter surprise,
We can hardly believe the plain sight of our eyes…
The steam from the boilers sends life to the heart,
And life it goes bounding throughout every part.

Video of a glass steam engine in motion.

Several contemporary artists have been inspired by the glass steam engines and their makers, including Bandhu Dunham. His kinetic sculptures series includes The Crystal Gem, seen in motion here. Collection of The Corning Museum of Glass.

2. Glass thread spun at thousands of yards per minute

Today the word “fiberglass” brings to mind insulation, boats, and bathtubs. It’s manufactured in large quantities and used in all sorts of practical applications. But for many hundreds of years glass fibers were an integral part of itinerant glassworkers’ shows. As early as the 1600s, one glassworker advertised that he could spin “10,000 yards of glass in less than half an hour.” A century or two later, glassworkers were claiming they could spin a pound of glass into millions of yards of thread at the rate of thousands of yards a minute. The end result was “infinitely finer than silk and equally as elastic and flexible.”

Itinerant glassworkers made this glass thread using a special spinning wheel. Some went a step farther and wove the threads into neckties, bonnets, shawls, and dresses. One bonnet was so famous it went on its own tour of post offices across the United States.

3. Scientific experiments

The earliest known itinerant glassworkers incorporated scientific experiments like Cartesian divers into their demonstrations. Often, they would describe the movement of the “divers” as magical – the glass figures would supposedly respond to the commands of the glassworker (rather than to the pressure applied to the top of the glass tube). One glassworker claimed the figures in his glass container would obey commands in four different languages!

By the mid-1800s, audiences were hungry for scientific knowledge, and some glassworkers centered their entire shows around science and natural philosophy. Professor S. Owen gave a lecture on natural philosophy, all while demonstrating the “action of water in vacuum” with a philosopher’s hammer, the “principle on which thunder is produced” using vacuum bulbs, and the “elasticity of the air” with balloons. Other popular experiments included pulse glass circulators, cryophorus deception glasses, and hydro-pneumatic fountains.

gif of glass cartesian diver in use

Glass Cartesian diver. Source: Kathryn Wieczorek.

4. The celebrated Glassoblowoprestitwistidigitator

He’s positively supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Actually, this title was used by at least two different glassworkers in the 1800s: William Woodroffe and W. Jerome Earl. It’s uncertain what these men did to merit this mouthful of a title, but it certainly sounds exciting.

5. Ships, trains, fire engines, and … skeletons?

Beyond glass steam engines, itinerant glassworkers built all sorts of models and machines from glass. Just a few examples include: models of famous ships, well-known monuments and bridges, and carriages pulled by teams of horses.

Scott, a British glassworker, displayed a “beautiful Hydraulic Skeleton, in Glass, which is kept in continual motion by itself, showing how the blood passes through the different channels of the human frame.” It was so spectacular that it was “patronized by the Royal Family, and every Family of distinction in England.”

Illustration of a glass engine in the shape of an old-fashioned fire engine

The Columbia, a hand fire engine, could shoot water 15 feet into the distance. CMGL 112113.

The Woodroffe brothers displayed a steam-powered glass train that ran around a track “eight feet in diameter.” The train carried two cars and a coal car and was able to move at a speed of six miles per hour. The Woodroffes called it “one of the wonders of the nineteenth century.”

Madam Nora’s Original Troupe of Glass Blowers, Glass Spinners, and Glass Workers promoted the Columbia, a glass hand fire engine that reportedly spouted a stream of water 15 feet into the distance. It’s one of the few models and machines that has survived until today — you can see Columbia (and the glass steam engine Excelsior) in the Lightner Museum.

6. Beautiful babies, homely men, and talented dancers

During the 1800s, many glassworking troupes added other entertainments to their shows. These included everything from lectures and dances to competitions with glass prizes. The homeliest man and the best male dancer won Turkish pipes at one show in Massachusetts, and troupes led by the Woodroffe brothers gave prizes to the “best comic singer,” “best jig dancer,” “best lady dancer,” and the “handsomest lady,” among others.

Perhaps the oddest add-on was the baby beauty pageant or, as one advertisement put it, the “Grand Carnival of Croesus and Contest of Infantile Beauty.” Both the Woodroffes and Madam Nora’s troupe held these competitions at their shows and gave cases of their best glass to the winners and runners up.


These are only a few of the curiosities audiences could see when they attended an itinerant glassworker show. Learn more about their shows, their lives, and the world around them on this site. Keep up with new posts by subscribing to my monthly newsletter.

version of this post was originally published on the Corning Museum of Glass blog on September 15, 2017.

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