Claire Montrose, Glass Art

Claire and Kota
I was born in Phoenix, Arizona in 1946, which is my mother’s home town. In 1955 we moved to my father’s home town of Kodiak, Alaska and from there to Washington State in 1963. I Graduated from the University of Washington in 1968, married in 1970, and have two children, Ian Gill and Tatiana Gill, both of Seattle, Washington. Divorced 1978. Moved to Yelm, Washington, in 1994. I ultimately moved to the High Desert of Southern California in 1996. Appeared in many venues and shows through the years.

I was in the High Desert for 10 years, and in 2007, moved to Port Orchard, Washington.

I am AKA Tanya Kraft, Karen Tanya Kraft, Tanya Gill and Diana Babbitt.

Sibling Rivalry
I have a B.A. in English Literature from the University of Washington in Seattle. But an hour after being admitted to the graduate program in English, there, I realized I would prefer to be a visual artist. I had no idea how to do this.

I had to figure out what was important to do, artistically. Well, you make things that you feel like making or want to make or are interesting to you. You look for the visual qualities. But what lies under them?

Moia and Claire The best thing I have heard is the Face of God idea. I heard that the ancient Egyptians had an artistic philosophy about making things that looked like God. Obviously this throws the whole thing wide open. The second thing was an offshoot of the Face of God idea, and that was my own invention. I wanted to make the things that I wanted to see. If I could afford to do so, I would coat all my walls and all my property with these things.



Larry


Larry Weston, my friend and companion for 8 years, passed away in Yucca Valley in September of 2007. This photo was taken two months before his passing.

He was the dearest, sweetest person I have ever known.





This is a favorite poem of mine, by Gerard Manley Hopkins*:
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

*19th Century Jesuit Priest and Romantic Poet