Typical Day
Scientific glassblower Douglas Smith arrives at the university by 9:45AM. It's not his dream job; if you had asked him years ago if he ever thought he'd be working in an educational environment, he'd have laughed in your face.
Douglas entered the glassblowing business in hopes of becoming the next great independent glass artist, but he couldn't make the independent thing work—or the artist thing, frankly.
He also tried his hand at glassblowing work in a pharmaceutical company, but could never get used to the regimented hours. So when a position educating young whippersnappers in the techniques of his trade came along, he jumped at the chance.
Mostly he jumped at the steady paycheck, but if students get educated at the same time, so be it.
As he waves a friendly hello to the security guard, Douglas reflects on how lucky he was to land this job. He primarily works with graduate students and scholars in physics, chemistry, and biomedical sciences. They come to him when they need a specialized vacuum, a distillation apparatus, an oil diffusion pump, or some other new contraption they've dreamt up. He then turns their dreams into reality.
Douglas is settled at his desk by 10:00AM. Within fifteen minutes he's up again and hard at work on the new pressurized vacuum that a physics student requested. He doesn't know exactly what it is or what it's for, but if the woman trying to get her Ph.D. in physics needs it, he'll make sure it gets made.
Douglas fiddles his way around the glass workbench in the hot zone, where all interactions with gas and hydrogen flames and hot glass are handled. Consulting the prototype design once more, he puts the mixed batch of glass—a concoction made of sodium carbonate, lime, silicon dioxide, and aluminum oxide (just like grandma used to make)—into the furnace, and cranks the heat.
Right as the mixture reaches the proper melting temperature at 10:45AM, Douglas's undergraduate apprentice walks through the door. What a perfect time for an impromptu lesson.
"Good, you're here," says Douglas as he motions the apprentice to put on the safety equipment. "I'm about to blow this out. Come look."
Technically, scientific glassblowers don't puff air through a blowpipe in the same way that more artisanal glassblowers do. They instead rely on torches, paddles, and lathes to turn the complicated and highly technical R&D prototypes into see-through reality. It definitely helps to have two people working on it—and Douglas appreciates having someone else get closer to the heat.
With his apprentice's help, Douglas shapes the blown glass according to the physics student's design. Noting that the glass is cooling too quickly, he grabs the newly shaped rim with his tweezers and re-heats it for a brief time in the second furnace, called the glory hole. After using the annealer to strengthen and finish the product, Douglas takes the piece to the cold zone.
Once he's set the piece out to cool, Douglas checks his watch—12:17PM, which means it's time for lunch. He's always astounded at how quickly time passes in the studio. He and his apprentice eat lunch in the university cafeteria, although Douglas brings a bagged lunch from home. It's more cost effective to eat from home—plus it helps him avoid binging on French fries.
After taking his time between bites to explain the intricacies of curving a rod of glass into the shape of a swan (we won't bore you with the details), Douglas says good day to his apprentice and returns to work at 2:00PM. He spends an hour on a prototype for an industrial tool that blows hot air somewhere and sucks in cool air somewhere else—you know, science.
At 3:00PM, a tour group rudely interru—sorry, cheerfully pops in to say hi, and Douglas sets aside his work to meet them. Glassblowers are well versed in the fine art of live demonstrations—not unlike a fire eater, although Douglas isn't sticking anything hot near his own mouth.
Gawking spectators who turn up to live, in-studio demonstrations are typically an important part of the business for glass professionals; for Douglas, it's just part of university life. Curiosity may kill some cats, but so far he's taken every tour group he's had through his demonstrations unscathed.
After the group applauds and leaves, Douglas finishes the physicist's requested thingy before heading off to dinner at 5:00PM. He goes over the lesson plan for tomorrow; even with all of his projects and mentorships, he does have to teach a class or two as well.
Around 6:00PM, after what any normal person would call a full day of work, he does what the normal person would think was absolutely nuts: he heads back to the studio for more work.
Douglas stays late into the night working on his personal art designs. Even though he knows there's probably no money in it, Douglas sees no reason to give up his passion. After all, he's basically surrounded by his art all day, so why not keep creating? While the rest of the world's out at the movies or reading at home in bed, Douglas is putting his heart into the glass.
Douglas finally arrives back at home around 10:00PM. A full twelve hours in the studio's exactly the kind of day he likes to have. Of course, that kind of work can really take its toll, and he's almost too exhausted to put on his favorite pajamas. He collapses into bed, turns out the bedside light with its custom-designed glass lampshade, and drifts off to sleep.