Glassmaking teaches me to look at life with a sort of unencumbered attitude," says Heinrich Wang (also known as Wang Hsia-chun), the pioneer of Taiwanese glass art. "I have to face a failure rate of up to eighty or even ninety percent. The making of glass items is beyond anyone's control, even if the craftsman is a genius." After going through all kinds of challenges and difficulties in this line of work, he realized that human beings are tiny and life is impermanent. So why not live our lives in peace and contentment?

Who is Heinrich Wang? If you had asked this question fifteen years ago in Taiwan, local people would tell you that he was a handsome movie actor and director. If the same question were asked today, people would tell you that he is a highly respected glass artist. Heinrich made this extraordinary turnaround relatively late in life. At the age of thirty-two, he was attracted to a paperweight on his father's desk. The exquisite glass cow was from Lalique, the distinguished French manufacturer. When he looked at it from the top, it was opaque, but when he looked at it from the bottom, it became transparent. This quality of the glass fascinated him.

For Heinrich, the idea of actually manufacturing something solid was highly appealing. "You see, almost everything I did before was selling ideas. However, I felt that life was so meaningless and empty. I always wanted to use my hands to make something concrete, a chair or a toy, so that I could look at it and tell my friends about all the hard work and time it cost me." The versatility of glass made it the ideal material for him to play with and express his sense of aesthetics. He told himself that it would be nice if he could design some glass items in a Chinese style someday in the future.

For the next two years, he buried himself in books or magazines, such as American Craft Quarterly, learning to appreciate the beauty of glass art and investigating the skills and techniques of making glass. He visited glass factories in Hsinchu, the center of Taiwan's glass industry, hoping to expose himself to this field as much as he could. At first, when he looked at laborers on the assembly line finishing one piece within just twenty seconds, he felt that it must be a lucrative business. "If I only earned NT$5 per item, I could earn NT$50,000 with an order of 10,000," said Heinrich, without hiding his original monetary motivation. But after a few visits, he started to ask himself what space he would occupy on the assembly line. He realized that he would never be able to make anything truly creative or beautiful in such conditions.

One day, Heinrich happened to pick up a book in a library. The author wrote that the greatest human invention was glass. In modern society, no one can live without it. "Suddenly, I got a thrill in my heart, and I decided to study this 'greatest human invention' as perfectly as I could."

In 1987, the 34-year-old Heinrich finally made up his mind to leave his one-month-old baby boy and wife behind and enroll in the Center for Creative Studies at the College of Art and Design in Detroit, Michigan, to fulfill his dream of learning to make glass art.

He set the goal for himself of learning all the necessary glassmaking skills within one year. Fortunately, the school workshops were open twenty-four hours a day. Heinrich attended classes during the daytime, and observed other more experienced students making glass items at night. "I often fell asleep in the classroom," he recalled. He also had to suffer the loneliness that haunts almost every young person who studies abroad. "I don't know how many times I asked myself if I was the biggest dummy in this world to quit a promising career in favor of learning something that didn't seem to have any future."

He learned many different techniques for making glass objects: blowing, cutting, grinding, fusing, pate de verre, and many others. Equipped with all these skills, he came back to Taiwan within only seven months. Even then, he still did not choose glassmaking as his life-long career. All he wanted to do was to rent some equipment from a local factory so that he could create his own pieces. But when he showed some of the works that he had made in the United States to some of his friends, their response was encouraging. They even decided to join him. In 1988, they bought a factory and established New Shop, the first glass workshop in Taiwan. Heinrich, of course, was put in charge of design, supervision of the manufacturing process, and sharing his skills with others.

Heinrich and his friends chose to focus on the pate de verre (glass powder) and cire perdue (lost wax) casting techniques. In the process used by Heinrich and his friends, the craftsman first makes a prototype of each design, no matter if it is a mouse or dragon. The prototype is covered with silicon, which is allowed to set and is then cut open. Liquefied wax is dripped into the silicon container in order to make a wax mold, which is in turn used to make a heat-resistant plaster mold. Next, glass powder is heated in a kiln until it liquefies, and the molten glass is poured into the mold. Once the glass has cooled and hardened, the mold is removed. Because of the numerous shapes and extraordinary angles that this technique allows, the plaster mold has to be splintered away from the cooled glass items with extreme care.

The most difficult part of the whole process is the annealing, in which the glass is heated almost to melting point and then slowly cooled. This process, which minimizes the internal stresses in the glass and makes it less brittle, can last from seven to over twenty days depending on the climate and the size of the item. The artist never knows exactly how much time it will take, since each piece is unique. There is no comprehensive formula for annealing. Experience counts in this matter! Heavenly Offer, the first work done with the cire perdue technique, was finally finished after four months of hard work, to the great relief of each of the partners.

Gradually, the reputation of the New Shop grew. Their works could be seen in exhibitions in Taiwan and abroad. In 1993, five of Heinrich's designs, including Treasures All Around, were selected for the permanent collection of modern art in Beijing's Palace Museum. For Heinrich, years of hard work had finally paid off.

In 1994, Heinrich left New Shop and founded Grand Crystal Co., Ltd. This time, it did not take the studio long to gain recognition and praise from connoisseurs both in Taiwan and abroad. Heinrich was invited by the Glass Art Society of the United States to deliver a speech on the perspectives of Taiwan glass art at a conference in Oakland, California. It was a great honor, yet he fully understood that he had to work even harder-otherwise, he could never claim to speak on behalf of his fellow glass artists in Taiwan.

Grand Crystal soon became a prestigious member of the glass arts field. The company's works earned tremendous praise at major exhibitions around the world. In 1996, Phoenix Baptized by Fire was unveiled at Awaji Island, just off Kobe, Japan. "It takes only fifty minutes by steamboat to get there from Kobe, which suffered a severe earthquake in January 1995. The center of the earthquake was in Awaji Island. Phoenix Baptized by Fire is included in Kobe's permanent collection to remind the local people to bravely rebuild the city." In 1997, Four Seasons was selected by Lady Ming Wilson of the Victoria and Albert Museum in London for their collection.

Overseas artists, collectors, gallery representatives, and buyers have been flocking to Grand Crystal's studio in Peitou, a suburb of Taipei. On a hot summer day in 1995, there was a very special visitor to the studio-Master Cheng Yen. Heinrich, who was half flattered and half excited at the Master's presence, listened carefully to her request-to create a giant glass statue of Sakyamuni Buddha to be displayed at the Still Thoughts Hall in Hualien.

According to the Master, all of the statues of the Buddha created in the last two thousand years in China have reflected the characteristics of the art of each dynasty. However, all modern Buddhist artists still copy the chubby style of the Tang Dynasty. The Master believed that if the Buddha were alive today, he would be bogged down with work every day. How could he maintain such a plump figure after engaging in so much work? The Master thus commissioned Heinrich to design a modern statue of the Buddha in accordance with her perceptions. For Heinrich, this assignment opened a new sphere of making glass figures of the Buddha and bodhisattvas.

Tzu Chi Sister Tzu Yin later asked Heinrich to make 1,008 flawless glass statues modeled after the three statues of Sakyamuni Buddha, Kuan Yin, and the Earth Treasury Bodhisattva displayed for worship in the main sanctuary of the Abode of Still Thoughts. Sister Tzu Yin wanted to auction off these statues for charity. Master Sheng Yen of the Dharma Drum also invited Heinrich to create the emblem of his association and a statue of the Buddha.

At first, Heinrich was a little afraid to take on these difficult tasks, but with the support of Tzu Chi friends he soon decided to accept the challenge. However, the setbacks and difficulties encountered in the process of making these statues were worse than he had expected. An extremely high failure rate was basically caused by the requirement that the statues be flawless. "My heart ached when I saw that nine out of ten finished products were defective and could only be thrown away for recycling," he said helplessly.

Finally, a group of Buddhists went to the studio and chanted the Mantra of Great Compassion to ask for blessings from the bodhisattvas. To Heinrich, it was not only a touching scene, but a great chance to look into the depths of his own heart. He realized that the making of glass art is very similar to walking on the Path of the Bodhisattvas-it is easy to talk about, but it is extremely difficult to put into practice. In the end, he became a Buddhist and began to practice his spiritual formation.

The result was that he became even more humble and understanding toward others. Sandra Hsieh, marketing division manager, told us that one day Heinrich and other staff members were having a meeting in the conference room on the second floor of the studio. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the first floor. Heinrich thought that some employee was smashing defective products for recycling. A minute later, a worker rushed up the stairs and shouted, "Heinrich, a customer's child accidentally knocked down your Jazz in the display hall." Everyone was shocked to hear that. It was one of his most beloved works. It was only for display, not for sale. "Oh, well..." That was his only response. Sandra could not help but ask him why he didn't say anything or rush downstairs to have a look. "Let it go," Heinrich replied. "It was just a piece of glass."

When asked about the major difference between his works and those produced by foreign artists, he pointed out the Zen philosophy of void and emptiness. Like a traditional Chinese artist, he always leaves white or empty space in his works for viewers to reflect. For example, in Great Emptiness, when viewed from the top of the Buddha's head down, the statue appears empty inside. Heinrich said that he got his inspiration from a bottle, whose contents can be freely poured out. Likewise, we should let go of all our pressures, worries and attachments and leave our minds in the free emptiness of Zen contemplation.

As for his next objective in life, Heinrich hopes to set up a glass school to teach people to make and appreciate the beauty of glass art. Currently, all of his 130 staff members are required to take courses in sculpture, sketching, calligraphy and foreign languages. If they prove themselves dedicated and capable in this field by passing the company exams, they will be fully sponsored to study abroad on a short-term basis. One employee just finished his studies in sand casting at the Pilchuck Glass School near Seattle.

Grand Crystal also holds glass-making classes during summer and winter vacations and various seminars on weekends. "I was really touched when one of my students, a retired schoolteacher, told me that he had found a reason to keep on living after taking my class!" claimed Heinrich.