Anne-Marie Battis Mosaic Studio

Getting the frame ready FIRST is the best method in stained-glass mosaic creation. It is actually a lot harder to frame it after the fact. (Unless you have soldering skills and can build your own frame around the piece, which I do not.)

I start with a regular picture frame, usually acquired at the dollar store or from someone who has donated it to me (since my fans know I’m always on the lookout for frames)....

The best type of frame has a groove into which the glass fits, like these. Here are basic instructions for getting your frame ready:

Take all the cardboard and backing off the frame and dispose of it -- you won’t be needing it. Remove and clean the glass and the frame too, while you’re at it. If the frame needs painting, now is the time to do that. Remove any brads or staples that were holding the backing material in place (not really necessary but makes it neater).

This is also the time to make sure your frame will accept a hanging device later. If you think it might be tricky, now is the time to test, i.e. make sure it will accept an eye-screw. I have found frames with very hard wood that do not easily take a screw or even a nail, and metal frames are also tricky. If you can, you may want to plan on soldering a metal hoop onto such a frame. Alternatively, the mosaic could be displayed on an easel.

Now, you’ll need to use a strong glue like Weldbond, running a bead around the inside groove. Place the glass into the groove and press down. Allow it to dry. You now have a secure surface on which to make your mosaic, and there will be no need for further fussing with framing!

As for the size: it is risky to use too large a frame, say over 12” x 12”. The mosaic will become heavy as you add those little tesserae, and the frame must be able to support the weight. I tend to make small mosaics, so it is not really an issue. For something larger, use a wood panel instead of glass. This is a completely different type of mosaic, but...  I made the mistake of putting a good-sized mosaic onto a lightly-framed glass backing, and witnessed it spontaneously discombobulate, literally throwing itself off the shelf where it burst into a million pieces. This was a sad sight, though funny too. Here is what the mosaic looked like before (Unfortunately, I don’t have an “after”!)

People ask where I get my glass and tiles, assuming they are hard to find. I used to buy  online, mostly vitreous glass tiles and some of the more specialized types of glass.  But since I started using stained glass as my main material, I haven’t had to go online or spend much money. It turns out stained glass is very easy to get, and I have several years’ supply on hand at this point!

The local stained glass shop sells scrap glass for $5 a pound, and I have picked up quite a bit there.  I’m guessing this is standard at these shops, since they always have scrap pieces left over from their classes, too awkwardly sized for them to use, but perfect for cutting into little mosaic-sized pieces!

Then I saw an ad on Kijiji from a stained glass artist selling her scrap glass for $10/box.  I ended up with three boxes from her, and still have tons left. In addition, the seller assumed she would not be able to sell any of her clear glass scraps, but I was pretty happy to take them, since I use a lot of clear textured glass in my pieces

Finally, my sister-in-law came for a visit, and brought me another 10-15 pounds of leftover stained glass scraps. She gave up stained glass art and was happy to discover I could use it. Her current art involves burning decorative designs onto salad bowls -- very intricate and lovely work. Here’s one of my favorites:

Here is a new mosaic from me, a silouette of a cute pig in multi-coloured stained glass. It was an experiment in working with much smaller pieces -- I cut each piece to be less than half the size I normally use, so even though it is a small mosaic, it took me a little longer than usual.

The little pig has gone to live with my friend Katy, where I trust it is brightening her days!

Often when people find out I make mosaics as a sideline they want to know how I got into it in the first place. This is a reasonable question since I don’t have an arts background, nor an art degree -- and certainly not an arts-related day job.

I’ve always been interested in crafts and making things but never been very good at anything. Sewing, knitting, crocheting -- all tried and dismissed (sewing machines terrify me!). Drawing, painting and the like are appealing, but too normal I guess. Doesn’t everyone else draw and paint? I did some collage which was fairly satisfactory, and wouldn’t mind getting into that again. Once I made a collage that was displayed at an “arts in the workplace” show. It involved a lot of maps. I took up rug-hooking, which is also easy, fun and unique. I still have my supplies, and hope to get back to this in my dotage. Oh, and I do make beaded necklaces, sort of on-the-side of my mosaic sideline. They are quick and come out really cute... more to come on these in a future post.

Somehow I started noticing mosaics, and thinking I would like to do that. But I didn’t -- not yet... Finally, a young artist-teacher started a Saturday morning mosaic workshop at a local art gallery. The instructor had figured out -- on her own -- how to make mosaics when she got sick of her Ikea dining table and decided it could really use a mosaic on top. Luckily, she had her students start with something much smaller, a 4 x 4 inch tile.  Here is my first mosaic created in that workshop, which I still love for its color and confetti-like texture:

I don’t remember what else I made in that workshop. I only attended for a few weeks before realizing I could work more easily and comfortably at home (at the workshop we sat in a circle on the wooden floor in the middle of the gallery, getting blasted by winter air every time someone opened the door). Still, I have fond memories of those mornings and continue to work with other artists in the studio once a week (in addition to my home dining table studio!)

I’m grateful to that enterprising young woman -- Ariel Finelt Shoemaker -- who got me started in this wonderful and satisfying art form.

A few months ago I took an afternoon screen printing workshop through Spins & Needles, an Ottawa arts organization dedicated to promoting craft. My goal was to learn a new skill that could be used in furthering my mosaic art. The two crafts don’t seem to have anything to do with each other, but in fact I think the mosaic image makes an excellent stencil for screen printing.

Those of us taking the workshop were asked to bring transparencies of the images we wanted to work with. Using Photoshop, I made high-contrast images of several of my mosaics and printed them on transparencies. (Luckily, these once-standard items are still hanging around in the office supply closet.  I’ve been told these now sell for $50 a box!)

I ended up choosing my lizard mosaic to work with.  Here’s how the mosaic looks:

The process for making a screen for printing (also known as silk screening) is rather laborious. In the workshop we started from scratch, where we actually constructed our screens using a framing kit, screen material (not silk, but some kind of special high-tech fabric), and tools like a hammer and heavy-duty staples. I killed my hands with the manual staple gun. Even though it is good to know how to make the screen, I recently discovered that a local art supply shop sells them pre-made, which will be my choice next time.

I won’t go into the rest of the process, which eventually results in the chosen image being photographically embedded onto the screen where it is ready to be printed onto paper, fabric, etc. But I will show you some of my results, which I believe are quite pleasing.

These are printed on an old heavy cotton curtain. I also printed on T-shirts, and I intend to print more on stretched canvas. I’ll eventually put a few into my Etsy shop.

I’m hoping to get several more screens ready with some of my other mosaic images. This will mean going through those complicated steps to prepare the screens, Still, I would recommend to any artist to learn another craft or method that is seemingly unrelated to your chosen art. I’m wondering what to try next...

Not too long ago, a mysterious artist created a large (10’ x 10’) mosaic depicting the Virgin Mary of Guadalupe on a surfboard. The mystery is that the mosaic was installed under an overpass in Encinitas, California, by a crew of “construction workers,” with no permission and no names. This has received a lot of media attention, sparking debates on graffiti vs. art. Some loved it and wanted it to stay in place; some said it was vandalism and should be removed. There were offers to buy it. There were people praying to it. They brought in a conservator to test the mosaic for its ability to be moved. In the end, it was removed and will be installed somewhere else. The artist revealed himself just a few days ago, and is apparently paying the moving bill. What a way to get fame as a mosaic artist.

That is all very interesting, but here’s what got me: when the artist came forward with his story, it turns out he attended a 2-week mosaic course in Italy, came back home, quit his job, and made the mosaic. Now THAT is mind-blowing to me. Six years ago I took a 1-week mosaic course in Italy, came back home, continued going to my job, made various (small) mosaics, and never installed a single one in public. I mean, what is wrong with me?

It had never occurred to me before to install a mosaic in public, but thanks to Mark Patterson, the Encinitas IBM-nerd-turned-artist, this is my new goal.

Cave Canem means “Beware of Dog” in Latin. According to the Apartment Therapy website, mosaics similar to the one shown here were used to protect homes in ancient Pompeii. I first became aware of this classic mosaic during a week-long workshop in Ravenna, Italy in 2005, and soon started thinking about making my own interpretation. First, here is what the original ancient mosaic looked like. It was created using stone.

To make my version of Cave Canem, I used stained glass in various shades of brown, amber and beige, cut into many shapes. I had planned to grout this, but was swayed by people who insisted that I not. So it is one of my few ungrouted mosaics. Another unusual thing I did (for me) was to create the mosaic on an unframed piece of glass, thinking I would easily frame it later. Well, that turned out not to be so easy. After living with it frame-lessly for too long, the mosaic is now beautifully framed, thanks to Ottawa’s Patrick Gordon Framing.

I've always greatly admired and appreciated good photography, but have never felt the urge to pursue this myself. I'm the type who likes to keep the camera on automatic and just snap away. But I've been taking lots of photos of my art in the last couple of years, and despite my lack of intention, I can tell I've been improving. I now realize that most of the photos on this site need to be fixed up, for example. I have also become somewhat adept at Photoshop enhancements, though I am far from an expert, mostly using the same few edit fields.

Below is a detailed close-up of one of my newer mosaics that I'm rather pleased with:

At one point I made a lot of trays, but haven't for a while. Recently I decided on a change of pace from the mandala mosaics, so I went to work on a plain silver tray that was hanging around on top of the refrigerator.  It is not finished -- it needs to be grouted -- but here's the result so far.

There are stripes of mostly greens and blues interspersed with textured clear glass. I'll just grout the bottom and leave the sides alone.

Here's a tray I did a few years ago in a similar vein. I used a light grout but will use black for the new piece.