Come Together

The first taste of hot glass is a litmus test. Old Boy either shrinks from it, or runs toward it.

Back in the day - in the heyday of West Virginia glass — the breadth of the 20th century — glass was something you learned to do in a factory. That’s where glass was made: the heat, the fuel, the technical expertise, the engineering, the chemistry: it needed a team of people to come together to make the thing that artisans blew.

Glassblowing in-house was a guarded secret meted out over shifts, weeks - decades.

Factories held sway across Appalachia, for long before, and awhile after, glassblowing relocated itself to the academy. In West Virginia, the only reliable way to learn the art of glassblowing has been in factories. In spite of the deep history of glass in the state, there are no academic programs where folks can learn or play or grow in glass.

All of us at Marrowbone cut our teeth on factory glass, at the last remaining handmade blown glass factory in West Virginia. We had the privilege, for awhile each, to pick up the torch of generations of Appalachian glassblowers, now mostly ghosts, retired, slowly

There, we learned daily from masters of the craft, stealing technique with our eyes. Factory life is hard - the pace grueling, the expectations high, management severe. One by one, we were - in spite of our passion for the craft — pushed out as the factory groans into the twenty-first century.

Cast-outs, we all hungered to get our hands on glass again. Were we anywhere else in the United States, we might have studio access, a way to barter for rental time, maybe even a job in glass. Here, in the ruins of the West Virginian glass industry, we were well and truly f*cked.

While Jared was gathering a crucible and a kiln and fiberfrax, James was specc-ing out his cinderblock garage, Nate was assembling a flameworking studio, and Adamm was starting to gather scrap.

We were siloed, for a bit, but found our way back to each other. On the way, we picked up Dave Osburn - one of only two glassblowers to successfully break from the factory and open their own studio. The other - Ron Hinkle - picked up the phone, and answered tons of our questions, and got us started with all of the basics from the tail ends of his glassblowing career.

We’re an intergenerational crew - in our 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 70s, 80s — all chipping in to scrape together from our off-hours, and nights and weekends, to put together a unique glassblowing studio in West Virginia, or — anywhere. Our perspective and verve for glass, our blue collar drive to get it by hook or by crook: why, it’s a positive obsession.

We’re absolutely steeped in West Virginia glass history, and we’re forging a new path forward in glass. We can’t wait for you to join us.