I have read and greatly admired all of Susan Vreeland’s novels describing actual artists and their struggles with artistic cre­ation. In par­ticular, I think she flour­ishes when writing about the cre­ativity of women. Until now, my favorite has been The Forest Lover, a fic­tion­alized early twen­tieth century tale of Emily Carr painting the spirit of rough-​​hewn British Columbia. In that novel, Vreeland pre­cisely meshes the con­tours of the land­scape with the tex­tures of Carr’s art.

It’s pos­sible that Clara and Mr. Tiffany is even more suc­cessful. Set in the bustling streets and buildings of New York City instead of in distant, western Canada, it equally cap­tures the chal­lenges of expressing real-​​life artistry in imag­i­native action. As you might guess from the title, this novel describes Louis Comfort Tiffany’s fab­ulous panels and kalei­do­scopic windows and shades of light. It also explores the role that women—especially Clara Driscoll—played in their devel­opment. Her story begins in 1892, the year before the World’s Columbian Expo­sition in Chicago, where Tiffany’s [and Clara’s] cre­ations will take center stage among the show’s high­lights. It ends sixteen years later, when crip­pling financial dif­fi­culties finally forced Tiffany not only to downsize his entire enter­prise but to stifle any further artistic innovation.

Clara is a won­derful char­acter study—a “New Woman,” as working women then were called, a bit of a Bohemian, a con­summate artist who lives and breathes her fab­ri­ca­tions. Clara heads the women’s unit of Tiffany’s, a section set up not only because women’s smaller hands were better able to handle the tinier pieces of glass but also because in those days women were not allowed to join unions. When the men went on strike, the women went on working. It was up to Clara to keep them busy, and she did so by gen­er­ating a con­stant stream of new ideas—Tiffany lamp shades, for example, and original ways of over­laying and com­bining colored pieces of glass.

Clara and Mr. Tiffany explores many facets of Clara’s life. First there’s her artistry, which Vreeland renders in pulsing shades and colors. Second there’s her position as a woman working in a man’s world. It’s fas­ci­nating to see her nego­tiate for herself and her workers, ever striving to overcome prej­udice and down­right dis­crim­i­nation. Third there are her inter­ac­tions with the men in her life. I won’t give away the story. Suffice to say that she adores Mr. Tiffany, an intel­lectual rather than physical romance that dic­tates many of the choices Clara makes. Other men are important to her, too, as she moves in a lively world of fellow artists and free spirits. Each one is ren­dered with care, as are the many emi­grant women who end­lessly toil in Clara’s domain.

They’re as col­orful as the pro­fusion of art itself. And Vreeland describes the step by step artistic process in ways that make all the ele­ments come alive. Looking for an apt quo­tation or two to illus­trate the flavor of the book, I found myself awash in vibrancy. Should I choose the expo­sition mosaic’s “iri­descent glass, mother-​​of-​​pearl, onyx, and alabaster.” Or some show­cases filled with “motifs of feathers, flames, and arabesques.” On every page, the colors and the swirling designs are aston­ishing. As Clara says, “I was intox­i­cated by summer, on fire with flowers.” Any reader will be equally enchanted—by her persona, by her glo­rious art, by her story inter­twining so thor­oughly with the suc­cesses and failures of Tiffany glass.

A.R.

Buy Clara and Mr. Tiffany: A Novel locally or look online at Amazon​.com, Powell’s Books, or through an IndieBound book­store.

Leave a Reply