Full of passion, Leonard Whitfield was on the rise in the glassblowing community in 2006. He could shape anything he imagined, and he was about to open a second studio in Issaquah.
His ego was his task master, and with it he pushed his limits. Then in an instant, his life fractured like hot glass on cold pavement.
Whitfield was waiting on an I-5 on-ramp when a police officer smashed into the back of his Mazda Miata at 65 mph. The convertible crumpled against another car.
Whitfield was rushed to Harborview Medical Center; people wondered if he’d live.
Whitfield lost quite a bit that day and has had to endure years of painful recovery. However, there was nothing more unexpected than his losing the love of glassblowing.
“I didn’t like glass, I didn’t know why it was so important,” he said, recalling the aftermath of the accident.
But this summer, Whitfield is looking forward to celebrating five years of ArtByFire in Issaquah with his wife, Renee Pound.
It’s also been five years of rediscovering a passion he thought he’d lost.
In addition to nerve and bone damage to his back, he had three brain bleeds. If learning to walk again wasn’t hard enough, he also had to learn to blow glass all over again.
Modeling the peculiar medium takes years to master. Pieces are molded as much by gravity as by the jacks used to pinch and coax the glowing hot material.
“This is the weirdest medium to work with, and it never ends,” Pound said.
Heat must be continually applied and reapplied to keep the glass hot enough, and the piece must be continually spun on the rod to keep it from falling.
It’s half sport, half art, Whitfield said.
He still walks with a cane – one of his legs never fully recovered – but there are no canes in his studio.
“He’s come a long way, and he’s still getting better everyday,” Pound said.
At first he went back to glassblowing because he had a business to support. Gradually, the knowledge came back and he was able to make made simple pieces.
Two years after the accident, he was invited to dinner at the friend of a friend’s home where he saw one of his less-inspired pieces adorning a mantel.
The owner didn’t know it was his work, but bought it just to enjoy. Whitfield then recalled something he was told as a boy, that unless you create something, you’re not doing anything at all.
Glassblowing suddenly clicked for him again.
“Once you create things, not creating things is impossible,” he said.
The passion that was once driven by ego and accomplishment was replaced by a desire to show the beauty he sees around himself.
“That is what art is, to coax people for a moment to see the way you see things,” he said. “It was almost a rebirth.”
A lost art
Whitfield first saw glassblowing at a studio run by a self-taught hippy in Oregon.
A graduate in radiology, Whitfield worked in the medical field. He found the glassblower fascinating to watch. The hippy, seeing his professional-looking suit, wasn’t as receptive.
Whitfield visited the studio every day to watch. When one day she began struggling with a piece. He grabbed tools and helped her out, and it opened a door to friendship.
He made a deal to all the shop’s grunt work, and she taught him what she knew.
At the time, glassblowing was a lost art, and most people experimenting with it knew little about it.
“They were essentially reinventing the wheel,” he said. “I developed a whole long process of doing it the wrong way.”
He was visiting Seattle to be with a family member who was dying when he visited an event to watch Lino Tagliapietra, a master Italian glassblower, at his craft.
He met Pound, an artist in her own right, through his brother, and after selling pieces at festivals, they decided to open a studio and gallery in Ballard.
At the time, Seattle had about 1,500 studios, but only a few were open to the public, he said.
They had the studio in Ballard for about 12 years, and it became a part of the community.
“He had a high standard for his craft,” said student Steve Cohen. “I don’t know where he’d be if it weren’t for the accident, and I think it’s a shame he didn’t get to find out.”
They sold the Ballard studio a couple years after the accident.
In Issaquah, Whitfield teaches classes and works one on one with students. The ArtByFire studio is full of his recent works, as well as Pound’s art sculptures.
“When I reflected on how persistent he is and how important this is to him, I knew he’d overcome any obstacles put in front of him,” said student Paul Benoit.
195 Front Street, Issaquah
425-996-8867
12 p.m.-5 p.m., Sun.
11 a.m.-6 p.m., Wed.-Sat.
Leonard Whitfield flashes a bulb of glass that will eventually be turned into the top of a goblet. To keep the material malleable, it has to be constantly reheated.
Celeste Gracey/Issaquah Reporter
Leonard Whitfield practices building a goblet with molten glass.
Celeste Gracey/Issaquah Reporter
Leonard Whitfield blows air into a gathering of glass to create the starting point for the top of a goblet.
Celeste Gracey/Issaquah Reporter
Leonard Whitfield flashes a bulb of glass that will eventually be turned into the top of a goblet. To keep the material malleable, it has to be constantly reheated.
Celeste Gracey/Issaquah Reporter
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