Beautifully written! Loved visiting the studios in Murano; we sourced the glassblowing there for chandelier pieces for the Türkiye Pavilion @ Venice Biennale with Gülsün Karamustafa.
I catch myself instinctively reacting to either how something looks or the idea behind it, and forgetting there’s a whole other layer in how it’s actually made.
Having had the privilege of meeting Armand Luis in person just last week at Milano Design Week and experiencing his work with my own eyes, I can say that this piece of writing captures something profoundly true about both the artist and his art. It doesn’t merely describe glass, it inhabits it. It understands, with rare sensitivity, that glass is not just a material but a philosophy: a negotiation between fragility and strength, timing and instinct, exposure and self-possession.
What struck me most when encountering his work firsthand was precisely this tension that Zappa articulates so beautifully, the sense that each piece exists on the edge of becoming, as though it remembers the fire that shaped it and still listens for it. This text mirrors that experience. It reflects the quiet discipline behind the apparent spontaneity, the patience required to avoid both premature rigidity and formless delay.
The passage about light, in particular, resonates deeply with what I felt standing before his creations. There is a vulnerability in glass that feels almost human, this simultaneous fear of being seen and need to be illuminated. And yet, as Zappa suggests, it is only through that exposure that its true brilliance emerges. That duality is exactly what I recognized in his work: an honesty that does not try to conceal fragility, but rather transforms it into something luminous.
In that sense, this piece does more than analyse, it echoes. It reflects not only the nature of glass, but the inner journey of the artist who shapes it, and of those who pause long enough to truly see it.
Thank you for your time!
Beautifully written, Vittorio. I loved the idea of glass having its own language, fragile yet deeply human. A very elegant and poetic piece.
Beautifully written! Loved visiting the studios in Murano; we sourced the glassblowing there for chandelier pieces for the Türkiye Pavilion @ Venice Biennale with Gülsün Karamustafa.
Thank you for this beautiful article Vittorio!
Really enjoyed this!
I catch myself instinctively reacting to either how something looks or the idea behind it, and forgetting there’s a whole other layer in how it’s actually made.
👁️🧠👁️
Having had the privilege of meeting Armand Luis in person just last week at Milano Design Week and experiencing his work with my own eyes, I can say that this piece of writing captures something profoundly true about both the artist and his art. It doesn’t merely describe glass, it inhabits it. It understands, with rare sensitivity, that glass is not just a material but a philosophy: a negotiation between fragility and strength, timing and instinct, exposure and self-possession.
What struck me most when encountering his work firsthand was precisely this tension that Zappa articulates so beautifully, the sense that each piece exists on the edge of becoming, as though it remembers the fire that shaped it and still listens for it. This text mirrors that experience. It reflects the quiet discipline behind the apparent spontaneity, the patience required to avoid both premature rigidity and formless delay.
The passage about light, in particular, resonates deeply with what I felt standing before his creations. There is a vulnerability in glass that feels almost human, this simultaneous fear of being seen and need to be illuminated. And yet, as Zappa suggests, it is only through that exposure that its true brilliance emerges. That duality is exactly what I recognized in his work: an honesty that does not try to conceal fragility, but rather transforms it into something luminous.
In that sense, this piece does more than analyse, it echoes. It reflects not only the nature of glass, but the inner journey of the artist who shapes it, and of those who pause long enough to truly see it.