The Washington Glass School

Some artists arrive with a five-year plan. Others arrive because they simply fall in love with the material.

For Trish Kent, it started with wonder.

“I have always loved glass,” she says, recalling a delicate glass ballerina she treasured as a child and her mother’s collection of figurines and wine glasses. Years later, after seeing a friend create functional glass plates, she was hooked. She learned the basics, then found her way to Washington Glass School, looking for a place where she could work freely and explore the medium on her own terms.

Her first interaction with still makes her laugh.

“The moment I walked into WGS, Tim Tate asked me if I was doing my art to make a living. It was such a laughable question.”

The answer was no. Art wasn’t about building a business. It was about having the time and space to create.

That freedom — paired with immediate access to experienced artists willing to help — became central to her experience at the school.

“What I loved and still love is the availability of Michael, Tim, and Erwin to show interest and help with any questions I might have. To be able to walk into the office with a problem and get an answer then and there is a dream. That is so rare.”

Now, after 13 years at WGS, Trish describes her studio days as fluid and social — working steadily, pausing to talk with fellow artists, then diving back into the process again. The rhythm of making art is intertwined with the rhythm of community.

One of the things she values most about the shared studio environment is the openness between artists.

“You can watch other artists do their work and copy their process if you want to. I don’t necessarily have to take a course to try a new technique.”

She laughs remembering one of Tim Tate’s favorite sayings:

“All artists copy other artists.”

Like many glass artists, Trish learned quickly that the material demands patience — and sometimes a box of bandages.

“Glass work taught me that I will get cut as a new artist often! I will have to wear numerous Band-Aids at the same time if necessary!”

Thankfully, those cuts have become far less frequent over the years.

But the harder lessons came through persistence. One especially meaningful project — casting the hands of her daughter and granddaughter — failed repeatedly before succeeding.

“It took four times to get it right,” she recalls. “What I loved is that the other artists in the studio offered suggestions to fix my problems, which finally worked.”

That collaborative spirit is one of the defining qualities of Washington Glass School. Trish describes the school as a place where artists celebrate one another’s successes, support each other through disappointments, and genuinely want to help.

“We have become a close-knit community but still welcome new artists in. We celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, awards, and sales. We also commiserate when people fail or don’t receive the sale or award they had hoped to get.”

Over the years, her own artwork has evolved alongside that community. She remembers another pivotal challenge from Tim Tate:

“Your dresses are nice, but what’s next?”

“It pushed me to move on and try something new,” she says. “He was right.”

Her work has often reflected personal fascinations and emotional responses: elegant dresses because she loved dresses; playful pigs inspired by a flying pig sign in Seattle; distorted American flags expressing anger and frustration with the country’s political climate.

And while the future direction of her work remains uncertain, she approaches it with honesty and curiosity.

“My future art is unknown, which is slightly more scary than exciting to me. I’m open to suggestions!”

As Washington Glass School celebrates its 25th anniversary, Trish reflects on the resilience of the studio and what it represents to its artists.

“I know they have been through good times and not-so-good times and how they keep going. It shows the rest of us that you shouldn’t get totally down just because there are tough times. It gives the rest of us hope.”

When asked what she hopes the school will be like 25 years from now, her answer is simple:

“Exactly the same as it is now — just better funded!”

At 79, Trish says people are often surprised that she works in glass.

“No one they know does art at my age — and if they do, it’s painting, not glass art.”

But perhaps that spirit of curiosity, experimentation, and reinvention is exactly what defines both Trish and the Washington Glass School itself.

And maybe no description captures the atmosphere of the studio better than this:

“Hearing a champagne cork pop to celebrate someone’s event is the best sound ever to hear at WGS.”

For Trish, the friendships formed at the school may be the most meaningful part of all.

“The interest, support, friendship, and care given to me by Michael, Erwin, and Tim have added so much to my life. I realize now that my life is so much better because you three are my friends and have taught me so much with kindness, consideration, and even joy.”