Magical is the only way to describe the lampworking process. Sitting in front of a small oxygen-propane torch, Fero slowly heats a rod of clear glass. His slender fingers are a study in perpetual motion, moving the glass back and forth over the flame, always looking, always studying. When the moment is right, he gives a small controlled puff, forcing the glass to expand in the center, determining if the shape is what he's looking for.
Next, Fero reaches toward a dish filled with powdered glass, twirling the newly blown form, which soon becomes the belly of the bird. Vivid color bursts forth as he moves the rod back into the flame. As shade and shape unite, he begins manipulating the glass again, giving a controlled puff that becomes face and beak, selecting tools to pull more of the molten glass, forging tiny feet to support the 6 - inch-or-so body. Everything is done in sequence, dipping the molten body into powdered glass, twirling it back through the flames, studying shape and movement, fine tuning the extremities.
Fero, whose cockatiel has free reign of the family cabin, can't recall a time when he wasn't intrigued by his fine feathered friends.
"Initially, I sculpted the birds as accoutrements for perfume bottles and vases, resting them atop flameworked tree limbs. More recently, they've become standalone sculptures. Their form is really nice for rendering into glass."
Of course, Fero's flight of fancy is just one phase in a career that has spanned more than three decades.
"I started doing lampworking when I was 15," he offers. "It was then considered more of a carnival craft."
Thanks to his first mentors, Roger Smith and Jerry and Lee Coker, Fero carved his carnival niche, landing a job doing glass demonstrations at Cypress Gardens. A few years later he made his way to New York and a job at Santa's Workshop. Fascinated by his early experiences and teachers, Fero has since done ample research concerning the origins and evolution of lampworking. He hopes one day to publish the information he's compiled.
Knowing his career in kitschy tourist gifts was limited, Fero experimented on his own, pushing beyond the bells and unicorns, creating goblets, vases, pitchers, perfume bottles and more.
"Since my teenage years, I've been fascinated with Egyptology," he notes. "Next, it was Greek and Roman mythology."
With an educational background rich in philosophy and anthropology, Fero felt the inclination to combine his passions in glass. Not afraid to let the passion guide him, he began toying with the human form, creating fanciful figures that looked as if they originated from the pages of mythology books. Ultimately, he took his show on the road, selling his work at galleries and craft fairs.
In the mid-'80s, Fero learned about the Penland School of Crafts near Spruce Pine, about an hour's drive northeast of Asheville.
"I came up to visit, decided I liked the area and enrolled in a hot glass class. Not only did that class expand my horizons, it changed my life."
And his address. Realizing the area offered limitless creative possibilities, Fero and his wife, Sallie, moved into a small cabin a stone's throw from the Penland campus. His studio is in the couple's tiny basement. On any day, it's filled with colored rods, glass shards and powders, and endless samples of Fero's ever-evolving work.
His work can be found in museums across the globe, from the Asheville and New Orleans museums of art to the Ezu- Kogen Tobotama Museum in Japan and Glasmuseum in Denmark.
"The medium (glass) allows Shane to create intimate and highly detailed images from his fertile imagination," notes John Cram, who represents Fero's work at his Blue Spiral 1 Gallery in downtown Asheville. "Collectors appreciate how his work ranges from whimsical to surrealistic."
It's the constant evolution that continues fueling Fero's creative fire.
"I've had so many styles, providing me with a sense of form, motion and color," he said. "Each style has proven to be the perfect training ground for me. I can't wait to see where I go from here."
