Élisabeth Marier

After obtaining her B.A. from the School of Visual Arts at Université Laval, Élisabeth Marier worked with the Institut des métiers d'art de Montréal to set up the glass option of the college training program in fine crafts in Quebec. She taught for over twenty years for the Diplôme d'études collégiales (College Diploma), with the glass option offered at Espace VERRE.

Her glass sculptures were quickly recognized by her peers, and her work received considerable support, including a Research and Innovation grant and several A-level Research and Creation grants. This was the era of exchanges between glass artists around the world. Espace VERRE is on this trajectory. Following a collaboration between Koffler Gallery in Toronto and the Riihimäki Art Museum in Finland, the exhibition travelled to several European countries. Her work was subsequently exhibited mainly in the United States, Canada, France and Switzerland.

Élisabeth moved the following year to join her lifelong companion, who left in 2007 to work in Caraquet. Leaving teaching and her studio was decisive, as her work is intimately linked to the dynamics of her environment. She incorporated the omnipresent natural world and its inhabitants into her new way of life, sowing and planting trees and leaving the wind to its own devices. In 2013, she received a grant from artsnb to create glass paintings. Three works resulted, but the sudden death of her partner turned her life upside down. An Entr'Art residency came at just the right time, opening the door to writing. Her self-published poetry collection Tu es là was presented at the Galerie Bernard-Jean in 2018, along with the works that emerged from it.

She was involved in setting up the artist-run centre La Constellation bleue, and then joined the board of the AAAPNB for two consecutive terms. At FAVA 2020, during the pandemic and as patron of the event, she made the connection between the process of continuous self-exploration and the importance of sharing. Her recent work was exhibited at the Galerie d'Espace VERRE in 2022, in Dieppe in 2023 at Art-Artiste, and will be shown in Caraquet in January 2025.

What led you to become an artist?

On Sundays, we sometimes went to museums with the family, and I had a fascination for portraits and what they convey, even fleetingly. We had beautiful Skira art books at home. As a child, I often enjoyed looking at the vibrant colours of Fra Angelico's The Annunciation, the tragic story told by Goya's Tres de Mayo, and the old-fashioned life and children's games portrayed by Breughel. My parents made sure I went to school very early on.

I was determined to study art. I started CEGEP in 1969 and finished my Bacc in 1983. In between, my conviction in the importance of both the material and the idea led me to open my own studio and space out my training. I also took the time to enjoy the early years of motherhood while continuing my research into the material glass.

I see myself as a sensitive person who is constantly questioning things. My art comes from my need to express what I feel. My works are abstract portraits of my states of mind; since 1996, I have described them as states of being since we project our emotions into our physical reality. My portraits are those of feeling, expressed through matter.

What drew you to working with glass?

In 1975, I was climbing to the very top of the tower we called the Tower of the Arts, a building made entirely of windows, to see the sunsets, which were very impressive that year because of the particles emitted by the explosion of the Mauna Loa volcano in Hawaii. The lift opened by chance - apparently without an explicit request - on the eighth floor, in the evening light, in front of the stained-glass studio where several sheets of antique glass in deep, vibrant colours were leaning. I was dazzled. I continued to work with stained glass until 1982. I opened a stained-glass studio in Old Quebec and exhibited my work twice at the Musée du Québec. From 1979 to 1982, in response to a commission from the Éditeur officiel du Québec, I carried out exhaustive research into the use of glass in art. At the time, there was no training or book on glass thermoforming. This material, transformed by heat into a medium accessible to artists, was still in its infancy. My penchant for research got the better of me, and that was the beginning of my works in thermoformed glass.

My formalist influences have been primordial. The American sculptor Carl André's floors of soft metal tiles, ploughed by impacts, and Mario Merz's cockpits were beacons for me. Industrial glass has become my favourite material for expressing the other side of things, what seems solid to us but is actually liquid, for questioning the rigidity of our view of things perceived as immutable. Pane glass gave me this formalist approach to expressing my metaphysical concerns. I used thermoformed glass as a material from 1983 to 2012, bending it under gravity, hot-rolling it, firing it successively to play with the structure of the molecules and provoke transformations, complete fusion and devitrification.

In Caraquet, I finally installed a flat kiln in my home for total fusion. Gone were the days when sculptures would freeze during transformation. Once again, I had to innovate by developing a different approach. My works became free-standing paintings, like watercolours in the mass. I wanted to transpose a very abstract concept into a series of five paintings, a long-term project. The last of the five, Aube, created in 2024, will be exhibited in Caraquet in January 2025. Originally, I had the idea of showing where I felt we were as a society at a given moment in time, of imagining the abstract reflection of our actions in our environment, of situating a fleeting current or future state. To share these portraits of us visually, I gave myself the initial framework of the oscillating crossroads of verticality and horizontality, as a testimony to the fragility of our environment. I've called this series ‘Between the abscissa and the ordinate’.

Molten glass is a moving material, capable of trapping air and thus adding its own element of expression. Even for monochrome paintings, coming out of the kiln is an encounter! Afterwards, I like to write on the painting. The material and its bubbles, the grisaille gestural painting and the poetry of the words form a whole. It's an agreement.

How have your training and experiences helped you to create and innovate in your artistic practice?

My university training in the visual arts focused on the conceptual aspect of creation, but the technical research involved in shaping glass using heat was entirely up to me. I wanted to demonstrate its powerful evocative potential. In 1983, the specialized textile, ceramic and stained glass workshops were closed, but the ceramic kilns were still operational. One of them was large and vertical, and it was there that I first hung a pane of glass. Later, I was able to use an even larger one at Céramique Décor, a company in Charlesbourg that sponsored my research for a few years. I was able to get into this kiln and had a stainless-steel cage made so that I could install suspension rods at any height.

Those were the days of the big cones, before I started training at Espace VERRE. At the time, I was exhibiting at the Elena Lee Gallery in its semi-basement, which opened a lot of doors for me: the exhibition at the Indianapolis Museum during the 1987 Pan-American Games, some good sales, including the acquisition of a first work by the Musée des arts décoratifs de la ville de Lausanne. This work was subsequently bequeathed to the MUDAC. When the MUDAC moved to the Plateforme 10 exhibition centre, several events were held to revisit the collection, including a look back at the history of glass in contemporary art. This enabled me to sell a second work and to be offered a solo exhibition in the attic of the seventeenth-century building.

In 1988-89, training at Espace Verre focused on the different ways of working hot glass. Ceramic fibre bell furnaces and their electronic controller were an innovation better suited to working with glass. They do not accumulate heat, but retain it in the bell, which can be lifted to freeze the transformation of the piece on the hearth. In addition, in the context of the development of vocational training, which included starting up a business, I had undertaken studies (half DESSGOC, half MBA) to gain a better understanding of the management of a craft business, namely the importance of harmonizing the personality of the artist with the structure of the business and of planning the facilities and production management of a customized professional activity accordingly. Between my busy schedule at work, my family, and my studies, I had little time for creative work, apart from the possibility of occasionally inserting a small test into a kiln in the thermo class, if there was a corner of free space left. In this introductory course aimed at discovering potential variables, each student set up whatever they wanted at a given temperature, as a way of understanding the progressive decrease in the material's viscosity. These tiny improvisations were the seeds that germinated later!

This gave rise to the small sculptures of juxtaposed panes of glass (the Souffles) and superimposed panes of glass. I made my basic material: just two distinct shapes of glass laminated in superimposed layers. I made these blocks in a very short space of time and reproduced them in multiple copies. That was my starting point, and it enabled me to work for several years afterwards. The blocks were assembled in various ways, taking the form of sculptures that became the Multiples, similar but always different. I put them back in the kiln several times, introducing an interactive factor to express the impact of the environment and society on each of us, an experimental metaphor inside the kilns.

What stimulates you most about your work?

The pleasure of discovering the variables, the other side of things, transforming and sharing my astonishment. I'm interested in matter, what comes into play through the imagination and arises through us. More recently, I've drawn on an existential quest fueled by readings that leave a deep mark that I can't ignore. I'm talking about the search for the self and the impact of what has been produced collectively since the dawn of time, based on - among other things - the writings of Carl Gustav Jung. These writings are also clearly explained by Frédéric Lenoir.

I also draw on the art of others, artists from all disciplines with whom I feel connected and who, each in their own way, feed the collective unconscious. Art helps the soul of the world to evolve.

What drives your creativity?

I could say that everyone's state of being contributes to the soul of the world. I developed my creative work alone, perhaps to protect myself, at odds with the world of the visual arts and that of fine crafts; I was more comfortable in the random than in the definite. My practice is linked to what I experience, and my work bears witness to this. The perfection of the object was not an option for me. I've always liked to innovate, to do something that to my knowledge had never been done before! I love exploiting the unique potential of a material, working with it to respond to a context or a need, doing my bit, saying my piece, pursuing a quest, my own, my grail.

Today, there's my ‘leaf garden’ where I try to encourage the life of native plants, insects, birds and small animals: it's a starting point for feeling part of the universe. But now I need to create positive interactions rather than be reactive. My reading and my relationships with ‘the other’ fuel my journey. I can see that our thoughts and actions bring about changes that transform our environment. This can be observed on my own scale, it has an impact on others, brings me into contact with other human beings and gives meaning to my existence. I believe in the importance of individual action in influencing the world around us and gradually enriching the collective vision of humanity. I believe in verbalising intentions to anchor in each of us the confidence that change is possible. I'm banking on contagion.

At the dawn of a new phase in my life, I have unloaded a large part of my stock of raw materials, accumulated over more than fifty years. My last works of fusible glass will be exhibited in Caraquet in winter 2025. What does the future hold for me? The continuation of my inner quest as the days goes by and the pleasure of collaborations, which have become necessary to me. The work will reveal itself, with words, improvisations, perhaps with colours too since I still have a few sheets of antique glass from my 1975 crush! The Nazaire Dugas Redux residency in autumn 2024 will give me the opportunity to make new encounters, from which will emerge a work based on the religious architecture of this great architect and, by extension, a place conducive to listening to oneself with others.

How has living and working in New Brunswick helped and/or inspired you on your journey?

Coming to live in New Brunswick has changed my schedule, my livelihood, my technical environment, my natural environment, my social relationships, and the nature of my interactions. Challenges stimulate creativity, and a change of scenery feeds the imagination. What has been very stimulating is the interdisciplinarity fostered by the structure and dynamism of the AAAPNB. New Brunswick's artistic community has a remarkable energy, and music is very much a part of it, bringing me great joy. I'm really happy to share my thoughts on this blog!

Caraquet is a town where poetry, theatre, visual arts, film, music, performance, dance and song are accessible all year round. It's on my doorstep, it's accessible and I have more time to enjoy and participate.

How does the process of creating a work unfold?

My process is a mixture of intention and letting things happen. I've always wavered between the framework of a precise context and being open to inviting a certain amount of chance, only to recognize it as a significant and collaborative contribution. It's as if the living matter with which I work had something to say, and I could say something more! I played on several strings, monitoring the transformation in progress, weakening the material when it cooled or heated too quickly, only for it to crack and open to the heat: repeated baking up to four times before annealing properly to guarantee the coherent organization of the molecules. The years 1979 to 1982 had given me a good grounding in physics, a grounding that has served me well in creation all my life.

As for the experimental work in colour, I've taken it where I wanted to, especially in New Brunswick. Here too I appreciate the impromptu, which sometimes appears in my paintings as it once did in my glass sculptures. The sheets of coloured glass I use are made by hand and sometimes have flaws that you would normally try to work around. It's always a challenge in fusion to manage the release of the air present between the layers. In my work, however, while I still plan for the air to escape, I also try to exploit the flaws that are likely to generate air bubbles that will contribute to the expression, such as the ‘threatening eye’ in the work Erre, the first painting in a series of five produced chronologically on the theme of ‘Between the abscissa and the ordinate’.

Why do you think it's important to make art and commit yourself to an artistic approach?

Art requires us to think independently and consistently, to conceive of things that didn't exist before. It's a highly personal process of reflection that we're willing to share. More than ever, we artists need to be responsible agents of change. Artist’s work with their intuition, their knowledge, and their network to share emotions, deep reflections, a critical eye and the astonishment that shakes up perceptions.

Disseminating different practices encourages us to see our world from different angles. As a community, we are gradually changing the way we look at the world. Art is a factor in the evolution of society.

What have you learned about yourself and the New Brunswick arts community through your work?

About myself, I realized quite early on that I was going to be able to develop a new, coherent body of work, even if the ups and downs of life meant that my creative work was sometimes interrupted. Looking back, I can see that my perseverance has contributed to the work, and I can easily see not only the strength of its guiding line, but also the contribution of the ups and downs.

I've always believed in writing about your own work. The thought is there, it moves forward, it evolves, and the creative work evolves too. For me, creating art is like creating your life.

My own move to Caraquet also came about in the wake of the 2007 Estates General. My partner and I had been considering moving to Yarmouth since 2006. But the vibrancy of the Acadian cultural community threw us off course! The openness of the community also led me to work in response to other practices, an interactive game of connivances. From a human point of view, my life has been enriched.

In your opinion, what is the impact of artists' work in the communities and in the province as a whole?

The impact of artists' work is evident in schools, in Acadian communities and in community inclusion initiatives. Artists are tireless, respectful, and generous workers. We owe it to them to recognize their contribution, and it's in our best interests to trust them!

The dynamism and range of cultural activities are largely due to the ongoing efforts of the Association acadienne des artistes professionnels du Nouveau-Brunswick. The AAAPNB is an inclusive leader, and its contribution is crucial to the emergence of a new society.

Describe what you are most proud of in your career.

Staying true to myself, always curious, daring, generous with my time and knowledge. I have contributed, with others, to creating change around me.

On a personal level, several years ago I set out to deepen my understanding of who I am, to uncover the most secret recesses of what we call the self. In return, a clearer understanding of my journey as a person and the repercussions this has had on my professional life. Conversely, I see my creative work as a pathway to discovering my own personality.

One day I wrote in a spherical origami and in two of its twelve cells ‘between future and present time’ and ‘white pebbles on the path’. These words come back to me because they aptly describe what I'm proud to have undertaken, which is the gradual discovery of my path, on the way there and on the way back!

What advice would you give to emerging artists?

The material is there to give life to the advancement of ideas, to give body, colour or textures that encourage the sharing of emotions. But everything starts with a thought linked to an emotion, intuition then accompanies us and from the material emerges the thread of interaction.

Don't hesitate to engage in a practice and a conversation around the subjects that are on your mind, a learning process that generates new avenues of creation. There will be high points and there will be breaks, sometimes imposed by the vagaries of life. We need to keep the flame burning within us and take on board the challenges that come our way, knowing that the power of creation will emerge again, stronger than ever.

We must believe in ourselves, trust life, and create the links that encourage sharing.