The next Tuesday evening I dropped by the glass studio, where a group of teachers had just finished a meeting. They dub their most devoted students “glass junkies,” and because they work in a highly fragile medium, disappointment is common. “We’ve shed many a tear,” says instructor Bobbi Vischi. “Pieces crack, all kinds of horrible tragedies happen, but that’s when you learn.”
The Bethesda area is home to many scientists and engineers, and when these “Type A” personalities walk into the glass studio they have to change their whole mindset. “It’s hard to get engineers to think with the other side of their brains; you have to give them permission to let go,” says glass instructor Hekimian. Another large group: women in their late 40s, mothers with diminishing obligations at home who are looking for a creative outlet. “They say, ‘I just want to do something for myself,’” reports Vischi. “I hear that all the time.” On Sundays, the glass gallery is open to the public and that brings the “stroller crowd,” families with young kids who might be riding the carousel or seeing a show and just wander in. Parents can get pretty nervous around all that glass (“Look with your eyes!” and “Put your hands on your sides!” are common cries), but some go home with a beaded necklace or a set of soup bowls.
Over at the photo studio, Tico Herrera remembers the old days at Glen Echo, when the place was so dilapidated a sculptor friend was living in the abandoned swimming pool. Like any good teacher, he understands that imparting skills and techniques is only part of his job. The rest is cheerleading, confidence-building. He repeats an adage from one of his own mentors: “I can’t teach you photography. I can help you learn photography.” Peter Kozloski agrees. He pulls out a portfolio of recent photographs, stark, black and white studies of abandoned coal mines in his native Pennsylvania. He focuses on ordinary objects—books, chairs, jackets—all left behind by a vanished tribe. He’s come a long way since his first print, and he credits his comrades at Glen Echo for his progress. “A synergy builds up in the group,” he says, “that keeps us all going.”
Steve Roberts teaches journalism and political science at George Washington University. His latest book is My Fathers’ Houses, a memoir. Send ideas for future columns to svroberts@aol.com.
