Glassblowing studio looks to take shape as arts center

On the stark, industrial fringe of Mission Hill, a fire burns.

Three years ago, Diablo Glass & Metal on Terrace Street opened as the only year-round public glassblowing studio in Greater Boston. Now its owners are hoping to make the thriving hot shop a nucleus for the arts in the city.

When Diablo co-owner Anne Sasser first approached Mission Hill real estate developer Sean Clarke with the unconventional business idea, Clarke says he followed a gut feeling that the studio would make sense for the neighborhood.

"We knew that [nearby] MassArt had a glassblowing component, and we knew there was no facility for them after they left college," says co-owner Clarke, sitting in his Tremont Street storefront office, which doubles as a glass gallery. "So looking at it in that way, we decided to invest our energies in education. Sales are just an offshoot of the teaching. And we have increased our revenue every year."

This summer, Diablo will be a partner with the Museum of Fine Arts in a series of introductory courses and workshops in glassblowing and small metals casting. The studio also offers weekend intensives in advanced glass methods, such as creating intricate lattice designs through Venetian cane-pulling techniques. Diablo also rents out time slots for private use of its materials.

"We wanted to bring [our students] something that they're not going to find in too many other places in the country," says Robert Worstell, manager of studio learning at the museum. "We are always interested in trying to bring the collection into people's everyday lives -- to experience the heat, the sound, and the smells of it all. And glass is one of those mediums that is gaining favor.

Clarke says he has plans to expand the studio into a state-of-the-art building. "Our overall aim is to create an art corridor on Terrace Street. We would like to make it a center of arts in Boston," says Clarke.

Next Saturday, Diablo will take its wares to the street for the third annual outdoor Festival of Fire. This year's celebration along Terrace Street will feature glassblowing demonstrations, belly dancers, fire spinning, and live music.

Clarke, who last year took up the craft, says his own glassblowing has inspired a zen-like outlook to his endeavors.

"In glassblowing, your failures are not really failures. Glass is in constant motion, so you're always liable to lose a piece. If you don't fail, you don't learn a lot of the time," says Clarke. "I get all the pleasure from the process itself."

On a recent Friday at the studio, two gaffers -- or experienced blowers -- worked together for the first time.

Michael Egan, a glassblower from Burlington, Vt., in town to teach a weekend course on the cane technique, proffered a sketch of a complex black-and-white accented vase to resident Diablo master Christopher Watts.

The proper execution of the vase would require at least two people.

"I can't think of any other discipline where you would just hand your piece of art over to somebody and entrust somebody else with it," says onlooker Sara Zurit, director of education at the studio.

Glassblowing, in fact, generates occasional heat between its practitioners. "You'll find a lot of rock star attitude in the glass world," says Egan. Watts, 36, a Massachusetts College of Art graduate who has worked at Diablo for two years, estimates that there are fewer than 10 full-time glassblowers in the state.

To create the twisted ribbing effect Egan desires for the neck of the vase, he begins by dipping the 4-foot metal pipe into the 2,000-degree, gas-heated crucible and gathering a spinning, molten glob from the honey-like batch.

Watts then meets Egan with another pipe and the two begin pulling the glob like taffy into a 20-foot-long stretch of cane, which after it cools, they break into skinny 4-inch rods that will be fused into a cylinder.

From there the two -- aided by 24-year-old assistant Max Lefko-Everett -- swing into an emergency room-like rhythm. As Egan sits at the bench and twirls and shapes subsequent sections of the vase, Lefko-Everett lines up tiny dots of color on a flat grill for Egan to roll his creation into. Different unfused sections of the vase are reheated in various states of completion in the 2,300-degree glory hole and the 1,000-degree "garage." Watts cautiously watches each piece, ensuring that the parts remain at the appropriate temperature. In buckets nearby, coils of discarded glass Egan has trimmed with tin snips crack loudly due to shock from the temperature drop.

The three work in tandem with each fusion: Egan twirls the pipe from the bench and with a blowtorch keeps the piece's temperature consistent throughout; Watts flattens the bottoms of sections with a sopping newspaper and snaps off excess glass using cold drops of water and a jack; Lefko-Everett blows gently into the pipe upon Egan's command.

After 2 hours, the vase is nearly complete.

Egan dips the teetering vase into the garage for one last reshape.

"I feel like a prince," he says to Watts, complimenting him on the studio's pipes. "The counterweight is like, 'Take it easy man. You're almost there,' " says Egan.

When finished, the vase is placed in the annealer -- a device used to cool the glass gradually -- and the trio comes together for a hug.

The Festival of Fire will be held Saturday noon to 6 p.m. at 123 Terrace St. in Roxbury. For more information, contact Mission Hill Main Streets at 617-427-7399.Kellyanne Mahoney can be reached at kelmahon@globe.com