Excessive, wilful, larger than life. In short: An American

The captain of the American Studio Glass movement, Dale Chihuly, is in Vancouver again stirring up the quiet waters on the occasion of a new exhibition of his work that opens today at the Diane Farris Gallery.

The dictionary of superlatives has been exhausted in an attempt to characterize Chihuly's glass sculptures: extravagant, endlessly expansive, monumental. And just as many strong words have been wielded to paint a portrait of the artist himself: excessive, wilful, larger-than-life. In short, the man is accused of being an American.

In 1997 he made front cover news here in Vancouver by squirting out tubes of paint in an impromptu work across the windows of the Farris gallery -- creating a painting which famously elicited poor reviews from the gallery's landlord.

Chihuly's West Coast equivalent of Andy Warhol's Factory is called "The Boathouse." Formerly a racing-boat factory in Seattle, The Boathouse has produced works now residing in more than 200 museums around the world, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Palais du Louvre and, more recently, the new Tacoma Art Museum in Chihuly's native Washington state.

Chihuly's work is created within easily recognizable series, several of which are represented at Diane Farris (Baskets, Persians, Seaforms and Macchias, as well as paintings on paper). It's a kind of survey, then, that allows for an assessment of traits that have endured through decades of work. Two perennials leap to mind: a devil-may-care approach to form and a love affair with the organic. The results of this formula elicit fervent oohs and aahs from critics and casual viewers alike.

Perhaps the most pertinent element of these pieces -- the quality that has ensured them a place in corporate offices, hotel lobbies and countless private homes -- is their undeniable beauty. And the lightning speed with which their beauty registers upon a viewer.

That fairy godmother of art critics, Sister Wendy, once lisped that Chihuly sculptures are "liquid light." And a better two words could not be found to economically describe his ocean-sized project. A fascination with water, and with the molten quality of glass, is everywhere in these works. Forged in a factory by the sea, and from a material (sand) that is crafted by the ocean itself, these sculptures pay homage to the craft in them--they exemplify their made-ness.

On exhibit at Diane Farris Gallery: Dale Chihuly's Lumiere Green Basket Set with Deep Chesnut Lip Wraps, 2000. 24 x 21 x 22 " .

While one can wax theoretical on Chihuly sculptures, their paramount quality has always been a strictly formal one. By breaking away from traditional glass techniques, which ruled that symmetrical design should be emphasized, Chihuly birthed a revolution of playful clamshells and flower petals. A sense of movement was discovered. Of ponderously slow animation.

Glass remains, after all, a liquid (you can look it up if you don't believe me). It flows at an imperceptible speed -- rush-hour traffic on a molecular scale, inching through the centuries.

It is in part by enacting that quality of frozen movement that Chihuly has become fixed in the usually fair-weather firmament of the art world. The sculptures bend and fold, as through freshly drawn from the furnace. And that reference to the mutable instant in time makes them, paradoxically, timeless.

Michael Harris is a Vancouver freelance writer.
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