by Rebecca Meiser
When Ben Johnson was a preteen in a small Indiana town, he told his parents he wanted to move to Italy to be a professional glassblower.
“Italy’s pretty far away,” his mom and dad said with a laugh. “Maybe start closer to home.” Like Seattle. “They were supportive but practical,” Johnson recalls.
That mix of big dreams and down-to-earth advice perfectly captures Ben’s journey — a balance between passion and pragmatism that has shaped his artistic work and career as an associate professor of Craft + Design at the Cleveland Institute of Art.
Drawing on centuries-old Italian glassblowing techniques, Johnson creates contemporary vessels that emphasize color and optical effects. Inspired by everyday patterns and his fascination with color theory and texture, his layered designs are achieved by applying colored overlays during blowing and then engraving cooled surfaces to add intricate textures and patterns.
Johnson’s work has been widely exhibited and is held in several prominent collections, including the Indiana State Museum. He’s been recognized as a Rising Star in contemporary glass by the Museum of American Glass and is a recipient of the prestigious Windgate Fellowship.
But despite that early declaration, it wasn’t always clear that Johnson would make it as a glass artist. In this Canvas interview, he reflects on the pivotal moments that shaped his craft, the mentors who pushed him forward, and how he balances technical mastery with artistic vision.
Canvas: What initially attracted you to glass over ceramics or other media?
Johnson: Honestly, I thought I’d be a potter. I didn’t go straight to college; I just wanted to make ceramics. I took a ceramics class in high school and was basically living in that studio by senior year. Later, at an art center in Indianapolis, there was a glass studio next door. I took a glass class on a whim, fell in love, and started taking fewer ceramics classes.
Canvas: What is it about glassblowing that holds your interest?
Johnson: It demands your full attention. From the very beginning, you have to be all in—fully focused, with no distractions. It just attracts me: the idea that you are forced to do this thing until it’s done. There aren’t many things like that today.
Canvas: How did your path evolve in college, especially given your initial business studies?
Johnson: I was kind of pushed to go to college. I went to business school because it seemed practical, but I kept taking art classes on the side. I sold ceramics and glass at fairs, and my art teachers wondered why I wasn’t going all in on art school and doing this more. My parents, being parents, were like, “He’s not going to art school.” But I kept making and selling more work. I was spending tons of time at the glass studio—helping teach, monitoring it, involved in everything except running or full teaching. Eventually, I found the courage to switch into the art program. Later, I did a summer course at Kent State (University) and and thought, “This is great. I can have more access here.” I was exposed to equipment and resources I hadn’t seen in the small community studio, so I transferred there. It felt right— close to home but with more opportunity.
Canvas: When did you start thinking glass could be a career, not just a hobby?
Johnson: Near the end of undergrad, I honestly wasn’t sure. I thought I might get a “real” job. But one professor—an emeritus who founded the glass program—pushed me hard. He asked, “What are you going to do after school?” I said, “I don’t think I’m pursuing this. It just seems hard.” He said, “You’re going to be a studio assistant.” I thought, “No way.” But he was really pushy—a tough old Brooklyn guy who just said, “You’re gonna do what I say.” So I interviewed, moved to Rhode Island, and was a studio assistant for a couple years. He also nominated me for the Windgate Fellowship—$15,000 for ten undergrads nationwide.
Canvas: You’ve received several other fellowships and awards. How have they impacted your work?
Johnson: I’ve been lucky. Beyond the Windgate, I’ve gotten teaching awards with cash prizes, and creative renewal fellowships worth $10,000 to $25,000. These awards are usually unrestricted money, which is a huge blessing to an artist. You don’t have to sell your work to get them—you submit, they recognize your work, and you keep both your work and the money.
Every time I’ve gotten an award, I’ve made something that I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to afford. It’s expensive to make monumental things, but if you’re not paying for it, it’s not expensive. Every one of those awards gives me the time and space to propel my career forward. It’s really hard, if you’re just a studio artist, to take those risks. So all of those awards and the cash prizes have really allowed me to not just repeat the same thing.
Canvas: Your work explores environment through patterns and textures. Has this focus been consistent?
Johnson: Higher education teaches you to overthink everything, which is good. I realized I’m drawn to symmetry, optical effects, and texture. Two themes keep coming up:
time and texture. I’m not into glass for quick results—I like spending ridiculous amounts of time on engraving, sandblasting, grinding—the things that aren’t flashy but require patience.
Canvas: How do you merge technical skill with conceptual ideas in your work?
Johnson: They go hand in hand. I practice “process-based abstraction”—immersing in a material I know well and letting the process guide the work.
Canvas: How has teaching influenced your art?
Johnson: Teaching lets me be the mentor I once needed. It keeps me connected to community and experimentation. When I was living on a mountain in North Carolina and blowing glass, I was isolated. I would make work and leave to sell it in places like Florida, Washington, D.C., South Carolina, and Philadelphia. I realized I wanted to be around people and share my skills and abilities with others.
I have one graduate this year—who won the Windgate, which was kind of a cool full circle moment.
Canvas: Anything else interesting we might want to know?
Johnson: Yes. I found out that almost 100 years earlier, a family member set up a glass factory in my hometown making containers. When I say I have “glass in my blood,” that’s why. Did that influence me subconsciously? I didn’t know until my 30s. The universe is weird like that.
CURRENT/UPCOMING EXHIBITIONS
- Ohio Designer Craftsmen’s Best of 2025
(Aug. 28 – Oct. 23 at Wayne Center for the Arts in Wooster)
- 2025 Faculty Exhibition in CIA’s Reinberger Gallery (Aug. 28 – Oct. 5, 2025)
