The Turning Point

If you want to know more about my glass bio, please check out my website at the "Artist" page. Pretty much everything is there.

The significant turning point in my glass career was very much a serendipity. In 2001, I applied to go back to Penland to yet another glassblowing course. At Penland, there are a lot more applications than there are people accepted. The long and the short is that I did not get in. I was totally bummed, because my summers at Penland were my escape valve from the stress of my law career. Laura suggested that I apply to Pilchuck. Pilchuck Glass School is the "Harvard" of glass, and I never considered myself to be anywhere near that caliber. Anyway, the application deadline had already passed. Laura made me call out there anyway to inquire about any cancellations or openings. They told me they had an opening in a sandcasting class. I never considered sandcasting to be something that I would be interested in, but Laura, my muse and constant encourager, urged me to go. She probably felt it would be better than me moping around the house all summer.

I got out to Pilchuck and almost immediately had an epiphany. I had never been to Washington state before, and was captivated with the beauty of the Pilchuck campus and the entire aura of the place. My instructors were two terrific artists, Cathy Chase and Kelly McLain. Pilchuck, which was the brain child of Dale Chihuly, also had a very unique and wonderful custom of inviting two emminent artists from media other than glass. I was very fortunate to meet Italo Scanga. Itlalo was a preeminent mixed media artist and close friend of Dale Chihuly. At the time, he had just turned 70, but still full of energy and enthusiasm. We immediately hit it off.
Italo was on the faculty of University of California San Diego, and had done several important public sculpture projects all over the world.

I was so excited about Pilchuck, that when they announced an opening in a course in the following session, I volunteered Laura to fill it. I was only home a day or so before Laura had to leave to fly out to Seattle. A few days later I received a phone call from her telling me that Italo had suffered a fatal heart attack, while working in his studio back in San Diego. Please visit the Italo Scanga website to learn more about this amazing man and his work. All of what I do now in art is directly influenced by him. One of my favorite pieces is entitled "Homage to Italo" and can be seen on my website.

My Early Days in Glass

I got started doing glass about 10 years ago. My wife, Laura was already working in kiln formed glass in a studio in our former house across town. We went out to Portland, OR where she was going to attend a national glass convention. Since we had never been to the northwest, we went out a week early and rented a car to drive down the coast staying in B&B’s and taking in the sights. One day while passing through Bandon, OR, I noticed a sign that said “See live glassblowers at work” and we pulled into the studio. I had never seen glassblowing before. The studio was owned by a glassblower named Dutch Schultz (no relation to the notorious mobster in the 20’s) Dutch and his team were in the process of making one of his signature large vases. I was totally captivated. We bought one of the vases, which I still have. I was determined to learn more about glass and glassblowing.

When I got back home, I signed up for a one day glass paperweight workshop at Susan Gott’s studio in Tampa. My first effort at gathering hot glass from the furnace was inauspicious to say the least, but the experience was enough to make we want to do more. I met a great fellow and now long time good friend, Ed Kozlowski. Ed had a small glass studio at his home. He agreed to teach me how to make glass paperweights and ornaments. I spent a few Saturday mornings learning the basics of gathering hot glass from the furnace, adding color and shaping them into round globe paperweights. Summer was coming on, and many glass studios in Florida shut down because the summer heat makes it too unbearable to work. Laura suggested I try to enroll in a class at Penland School of Crafts in North Carolina. I was fortunate enough to get into a glass taught by an outstanding glass artist Richard Jolley. That intensive hands on experience was the inspiration I needed to make the commitment to set up my own studio.

We already had a couple of kilns and other glassworking equipment for Laura’s work, but a glass “hot shop” would require a serious investment in several more fixtures including a glass melting furnace, glory hole, gaffer’s bench, and marver table. Fortunately, Laura had been collaborating with a master welder and metal artist, Jim Fasting, who was able to make me a wonderful bench and marver table. Because of zoning restrictions, I could not install a gas fired furnace since our studio was attached directly to our home, so I opted for a turn key electric glass furnace from Denver Glass Machinery Company.I also went ahead and purchased a Denver glory hole, and a Denver polisher/grinder.


The furnace arrived on a semi tractor trailer. The furnace had been seriously damaged in shipment and had to be sent back. A few weeks later, the furnace again arrived. It weighed well over a ton. Fortunately, it is on wheels. When I measured the width, I found it was a couple inches too big to fit through the door from the garage to the studio. Fortunately, by removing the door, it could just squeeze through. My furnace is the same one my friend Ed has used for years, so he was able to get me up and running with a minimum of problems.
So in early 2000, I was now a novice glass blower with my own studio.

Welcome to my new blog

Welcome to my first blog post. I'm still feeling my way along on this, so please bear with me. This is a test post to see how it looks. I Len Vincenti and I live in a wonderful little place tucked away on the Gulf Coast of Florida called Ozona. Funny name, huh? Back at the turn of the century, the little fishing community was called "Yellow Bluff" after the sandy hills visible from the Gulf of Mexico. There was an outbreak of yellow fever and the locals feared that the name would have a bad conotation with tourists from the north, so they changed the name to "Ozona" since ozone was thought to be healthy stuff.

Fast forward a hundred years or so and today Ozona is an eclectic little heaven in the midst of the hustle bustle of the booming Tampa Bay area. About 7 years ago, we bought a wonderful little hundred year old "Florida Cracker" house.