An experimental stained glass piece by Kerry Transtrum at Red Butte Garden’s “Glass in the Garden.”

At the height of its awareness by the public, studio glass was often cited as the most financially rewarding medium of art. A single blown-glass master and his dealer staged several successful million-dollar exhibitions in Seattle. Tacoma’s Dale Chihuly, known to Utahns as the artistic star of the 2002 Olympics, was also the subject of the first high definition TV extravaganza to be broadcast nationwide. Not surprisingly, and as had happened in Paris with the Fauves and Cubists, and later in New York with the Abstract-Expressionists, it was widely taken in Seattle as proof that major art movements come about whenever great artists appear on the scene.

But instead, what soon enough became apparent was that success in art, like so many of the wonders of capitalism, is usually a market phenomenon. When people thrilled to the idea of outfitting their houses with stained glass, or their dining rooms with blown wine goblets, everyone in the system made money. Real art played a minor role in all that, and when public interest moved on, it became apparent that the proportion of glass that qualifies as high art is about the same as in anything else. The rich buy to satisfy their egos and show off their wealth; we who are wise buy art that pleases us personally to see and use every day. And what one Utah artist called “the art that goes into the art history books” will not be known until those future volumes are printed.

Highlights from the exhibition include a large circular panel of layered color, botanical sculptures, and patterned fused-glass works that show the breadth of approaches within Utah’s glass community.

A selection of fused and kiln-formed glass works in a range of styles—from geometric pattern pieces to sculptural masks and floral motifs—on view in the Glass Art Guild of Utah exhibition at Red Butte Garden.

Meanwhile, anyone seeking to be an artist and make art in Utah has some advantages over those in some other places. First, this is Utah. All persons everywhere have it in them to make art, but in Utah the culture sees to it that more of them actually attempt it, and more of those succeed. And then, should it be glass art, there’s the Glass Art Guild, which has surely been responsible for the remarkable speed and diversity with which the medium has grown here during the first two decades of the new millennium. Evidence is at hand, and available for free, in the visitor center at Red Butte Garden until the end of the year. Later, in the winter, more will be shown at the Utah Cultural Celebration Center.

Part of the Guild’s success lies in its comprehensive idea of art. Wearable art, for instance, allows everyone to carry their beautiful and enchanting objects with them while showing off their good taste to those they encounter along the way. A large part of what’s on display here is jewelry, and it soon becomes apparent that just like diamonds and pearls, these objects of personal adornment can capture and reflect light, but they can also do some far more interesting things with it. For instance, dichroic glass, a space age product with a vacuum-applied, transparent ceramic coating on normal glass, separates light somewhere along the rainbow of its colors, then transmits one segment while reflecting its complement. The effect, with colors that vary with the angle of view, is dazzling, and no less so when numerous tiny bits of it are assembled into dazzling cubes of cornucopian splendor.

There are other ways glass makes exceptional jewelry. Colored rods assembled so the cross section of the bundle creates a picture can be heated and stretched, during which they shrink until immaculately tiny pictures emerge. These are called “millefiori,” from the Italian for “thousand flowers,” and are used in everything from earrings and brooches to tea cups and paperweights. Another technique, torch- or lamp-working, produces an entire range of objects, including small, wearable sculptures. Some of these are definitely works of art.

Household goods are another place where glass figuratively as well as literally shines. Numerous trays, platters, bowls, lamps, and even Lazy Susans demonstrate the zone where utility and decoration overlap until the distinction breaks down. Given the addition of a hanger or stand, it becomes possible for one object to serve the cook and the kitchen decor together.

Barbara Wesley’s vibrant fused-glass landscape evokes an autumn forest path.

It’s remarkable how, from the smallest baubles up through light-catchers to self-standing sculptures, so many of the same techniques apply across the differing intentions of their makers. Blown-glass bowls with intriguing optics sit next to kiln-formed objects made by melting or fusing together everything from colored powders to sheets and chunks. Together, these make up what many in the audience will likely see first—objects that look very much like traditional works of art, some right down to their wooden frames, but rich with qualities unique to glass. You’ll find landscapes and florals not only arrayed in more brilliant colors than paint can offer, but which exist within three-dimensional, crystalline garden spaces, or forests beneath brilliant or moody skies; abstracts that range from hard-edged geometry to soft, palpably evocative clouds and swirls; and here and there an instance of playfulness duplicates in its final form the impulse that put its creator to work.

The French poet and art critic Charles Baudelaire insisted that in evaluating art, the standard should always draw on nature. No medium is more responsive to its environment than glass, with its transparent, translucent, and brilliantly reflective surfaces . And speaking of nature, there may be no better place to contemplate an art so responsive to its surroundings than the elevated desert setting and ever-changing skies of Red Butte Garden. Right now, as the seasons are changing, is as good a time as any to return.

A kiln-formed glass “weaving” constructed from interlaced rods, showcasing the medium’s ability to imitate textile structure while retaining its glossy rigidity.

Glass in the Garden, Red Butte Garden, Salt Lake City, through Nov. 20.

Geoff Wichert

Geoff Wichert objects to the term critic. He would rather be thought of as a advocate on behalf of those he writes about.