Allumeur.

Rémi Groussin

Images : Rémi GROUSSIN
Voice over : Edward FARRUGGIA
Sound recording : Laurie CHARLES
From the Benoit Nabineau story, neoniste from Le Verre Luisant company
Text : Rémi GROUSSIN


My father initially learned this work from his great-uncle.
He was himself trained by Georges Claude just before the first World War.
He learned everything directly from him, the genius of his gestures, his hands and his breath.
Georges Claude is the physicist and chemist who invented this technology in 1910.
Today, it’s a family tradition, a true skill that’s in my blood.
Claude’s spirit still guides my every move, like an electric current to my fingertips.
I carry within me the origin of creating this light, this glow.
However, it’s also fading away with me.
I would see these lights turn off.
Back then, my father started his business in Paris.
It was thriving.
Taking on major contracts like “l’Olympia” with its large red letters or the « Grand Rex » too.
We lit up not only Paris but all of France.
We lit up even parts of Europe, like Norway, Germany, and sometimes even Africa.
Often, I didn’t know where our work went.
We produced continuously, often without seeing the final result or installation.
I officially joined the family business in 1983, right after finishing school.
I wasn’t a good student, and I just wanted to work.
We were always together as a family.
My mother handled the finances, my brother did installations, and my father and I blew all day long and every day.
In the business, there were glass blowers working from morning to night.
This work was too dangerous for a young boy like me.
Glasswork demands precision and care because it involves working with fragile and hot glass.
And there’s fire, fire everywhere.
There’s the risk of exposure to toxic gases and mercury.
As a child, I used to visit my father at work every Wednesday.
I did what I could.
I was applying paint to hide parts that shouldn’t be seen.
There are areas on glass that need to be made invisible so that the words or images can be read.
It was all about concealing to make things visible.
Initially, I worked in the family business and learned everything.
Later, I was sent to St. Martin in the Caribbean.
There are the islands there, it’s very exotic.
Because of the big cyclones of 1995 which destroyed everything, everything had to be rebuilt.
I had to reproduce all the signs so that trade would pick up again and revive the economy.
It was a different experience.
Caus’ signs had more rounded and curvy shapes.
I created things that I would not have realized in France.
Large pelicans beating their wings, animated by electrical boxes.
We superimposed tubes on each other to create an illusion of movement.
The Caribbean imaginary.
I made a lot of hibiscus flowers, all colors, all sizes.
Beach landscapes with fine sand.
Vahines.
Suns.
I didn’t blew any palm trees though.
No flashing palm trees.
Today, I practice this craft in my small home workshop.
I have everything I need.
Essentially, it involves injecting gas into glass tubes, creating a magical light
No, It’s not magic.
But it’s challenging to explain exactly what happens.
The light source is direct.
The light emitted by the tubes radiates in all directions.
It illuminating everything around.
I don’t make the glass; I get it from Italy.
I get the tubes straight and then sculpt them.
There are different diameters from six to twenty-three millimeters.
They are already colored with a fluorescent coating but you cannot distinguish the color at first.
The tubes are delivered transparent, white, or yellow.
The glass is called Pyrex.
We can call it Crystal too.
It is a very resistant glass from Germany and which has been fired at a very high temperature.
Glass is just sand that you melt
It’s mineral, it comes from the earth.
The tubes are transparent when they arrive.
For instance, a white tube doesn’t necessarily produce white light.
A yellow tube doesn’t produce only yellow light.
However, a transparent tube will only produce red light.
I work mostly bindly.
The true colors are revealed only when the tubes are lit up.
I shape the tubes based on given plans.
It involves cutting them to size with a diamond powder lime.
Then, I get extremely hot the glass to form it.
I use blowtorches, I heat the tube with an air and oxygen mixture to soften it.
I layer the molten glass over the plans, replicating the shape accurately.
I work with scaled drawings.
It’s often a back-and-forth process between the drawing and the flame.
This create a lot of smoke.
I have to work somewhat blindly.
A flexible latex hose connects the tube to my mouth.
It allowing me to blow air into the tube to maintain its shape.
Once the tube is the right shape, I use cathodes to seal both ends.
Which conduct the electric current from one end to the other.
For some vibrant colors, I need to use a particular metal.
I add a tiny drop of liquid mercury using a special pump that I made myself.
I then create a glass bubble to contain the mercury.
I then solder this bubble to the main tube.
It’s a small transition space.
The mercury bead will remain enclosed in the glass bubble while I complete the other steps.
I must perform the ‘pumping’ by heating the tube to 315 degrees and burning any impurities.
To do this, I connect the assembly to what is called a ‘queusot,’ which is connected to a machine.
I completely vacuum the air before injecting the gases.
I create a vacuum, an absolute vacuum.
I always check for any air leaks using a small tool that sends a slight electrical discharge.
If I observe small sparks passing through the walls of the tube, it means the glass may be cracked or too thin.
There is a risk that the gas might escape later, so I must then rework the tube.
Once everything is okay, I release the mercury bead from the bubble into the main tube.
Typically, it adheres to the cathode as it falls.
The heat produced by the incandescence of the gas will then melt the mercury and illuminate the color.
The gas ignites; it is stimulated by a very powerful electric current, ranging from 1000 volts up to 12,000 volts.
The mercury will produce ionization.
This is an atomic phenomenon that charges the gas molecules with energy and activating the light.
It’s a phenomenon that occurs in the invisible realm, at the atomic scale.
For red, however, there is no mercury.
Red is simply incandescence.
The gas burns, and we can see it burning.
It’s a bit like staring into the sun.
To complete the process, I connect the tube to a high-voltage transformer for several hours.
I use a piece of paper paper that I delicately place at the end of the tube.
I watch it while waiting for it to start burning.
When I see smoke, I know the tube is ready.
Today, I do this job at my home in a very small workshop.
But I have everything I need.
I returned to France to live in the midst of nature.
I can hear the sound of water; the Loire River flows just at the end of the garden.
I hear birds, and above all, I hear the tranquility.
My dogs bark from time to time; they are warm.
Otherwise, it’s always quiet.
Except when I light the torches, then I hear nothing but the fire.
The fire that moves through the space around me and the fire that fills the inside of the tubes.
With this job, I’ve learned to hear the fire, but above all, I’ve learned to see the fire.

This video and the English-French text were displayed during the solo exhibition Porter au rouge, at Pavillons d’Octroi de la ville de Tours (France), in 2023.
It’s a research work which Rémi Groussin led during his residency in Tours in 2023 proposed by Mode d'emploi