Artist & Teacher Sara Glater inspires others to make art. By Sarah Thompson When Sara Glater decided to leave her home and students in Mill Valley, California, for a different pace of life, John Palmer of the Mill Valley Herald wrote: "Mill Valley's loss is Eugene's gain." Glater says she wanted to live in a physically beautiful place where she could feel connected to an arts-oriented community and "where the pace of life was slower." Glater teaches art classes called Art Soup from her studio in the south hills. Teaching is essential to her artistic expression, she says. She has taught art since she was a teenager and prefers small classes so she can give more attention to each student. Her approach is holistic. "I'm not so much trying to create the future artists of America as I am trying to help inspire people to develop their own ideas," she says. Each week she presents both her adult and children's classes with the same new project. Students use varied materials for printmaking, paper making and plaster. "I am always on the prowl for unusual materials," Glater says, "and the materials I find help me to create project ideas." Because Glater is environmentally concerned, the supplies are often recycled. Glater holds graduate degrees in printmaking and theater design and was executive director of the San Francisco and Marin Children's Art Centers for 10 years. Glater says she tries to meet children on their own level. Pam Mallick, whose daughter Dylan is in Glater's class, said the time her daughter spends in class is very special to her. "When I take the kids to class, they are out of the car before I even turn it off," Mallick says. Glater's work has been shown nationally and is published and licensed in a variety of forms. "My work has always been about dreams, hopes and aspirations," Glater says. "What I'd like to focus on now is the value and the description of the present moment, the importance of this moment more than the possibility of the future." Glater understands all too well how important each moment of life can be. Her husband, Richard, has lived with chronic illnesses throughout his life. She says he often jokes about how much insight he would trade for good health, but his illness has helped to shape him and bring greater sensitivity to his life. Richard's illness has also helped her translate her emotional energy from challenge into images, she says. Glater's mixed media artworks, which have been shown locally at Due Fine Art, blend paper-making techniques with carved surfaces of wood, plaster or foam. She embeds objects and paints on the final cast pieces. The result is an image that combines the carved surface of the print block with the color saturation and thickness of molded paper pulp. Susan Due, owner of Due Fine Art gallery, says Glater's art is strongly connected to who she is as a person. "Her art is a very unique process that I think has come out of this journey of dealing with illness and with children," Due says. Glater wrote and illustrated an award-winning picture book for people of all ages whose lives are touched by illness, A Wish for Wings and Other Things. She makes the book available to non-profit organizations and schools for fund-raising events. "The book was one way that I could help people who were living with illness," Glater says. Glater will hold an open studio show from noon to 5 pm Dec. 9 and 10 at 1310 Barber Drive. For more information, call 485-SARA. The Acid Test Nouveau Beaujolais is unpredictable, but always an adventure. By Lance Sparks Winter gripped the city in icy fingers, frigid as a Republican's heart. I angled closer to the big window in our tasting laboratory on the 17th floor of one of the oldest high-rises in Eugene's decaying downtown core. I peered through chemical grime that layered the window's exterior. The toxic haze that normally curled around the building like a feral cat had been rinsed from the air by recent rains, but nothing short of steam-cleaning would rid the building of its coat of black-acid drippings. Even through gritty filtration, I could see thick clouds scudding across the valley and huddling against the higher ridges of the Cascades. Below, on cold, rain-blackened streets, steam rose from open grates in gutters and from open mouths of the few furtive denizens who dared pass bleak storefronts and ominous alleys. I worried a little. I was waiting for beautiful Kat, my partner and lover. We had nasty work this night, or at least it was usually nasty, an annual chore that, in the world of wine, immersed us deeply in the effects of greed, cynicism and corrupt practices. We were about to taste test Nouveau Beaujolais. I sipped from a bottle of distilled water and watched as Kat's big red Dodge Ram rumbled into a parking slot. Even at this height, I recognized her black trenchcoat and snap-brim fedora as she skirted a sleeping drunk huddled under cardboard blankets on the sidewalk. I willed her safely through the broken "security" door on the building, then listened to the creak and whine of the ancient Otis grinding up to our floor. Minutes passed before the lab's steel door buzzed open and she stepped in, elegant, dark eyes flashing as she doffed her gear and donned a white lab coat. "Ready?" she asked, luscious red mouth split in a white smile. "Ready," I answered, gesturing to polished tasting glasses on white surfaces under bright lights. I began cutting plastic caps on test bottles, pulling corks. I sniffed their sides; that's where we picked up cork taint, not on the ends. No taint this time, no scent of moldy newspapers. So far, so good. I poured a couple ounces. I couldn't escape grim foreboding. Beaujolais is a lovely area on the south edge of the Burgundy region in eastern France. The Loire River lies to the west, the Jura Mountains just east. The Saoen River cuts its valley here, becoming the Rhone only a little south. The wines from Beaujolais are made primarily from the Gamay Noir grape, and in great years they can be among the world's most charming, but, as the late Andre Simon wrote, Beaujolais "encompasses the good, the bad and the beautiful." He added, "If you have once had 'good' Beaujolais, it is easy to know when you are not getting it." Too many times recently, we have not been getting it; the wines, especially the nouveau, have been acidic, tart, hot with alcohol. For decades, centuries, nouveau Beaujolais was the wine that locals drank to celebrate the vintage. Usually, some parts of the harvest were thrown into vats as whole clusters, stems and all, only the weight of the top clusters crushing the clusters on the bottom, a process called carbonic maceration. The first fresh juice was drawn off, the remaining grapes crushed again, the two juices blended. Fermentation was completed by the third Thursday in November. Time to tipple and party. Villagers filled jars and buckets, gathered in villages to nibble and quaff. Naturally, it wasn't long before someone saw the chance to market the wine outside the region, and the nouveau phenomenon was born. These days, the wine is bottled, labeled and rushed to transport to hit the shelves by Nov. 15. For the American markets, the wine flies over on the Concorde; in mere weeks, hundreds of thousands of cases will have been consumed. The best grapes of the Beaujolais vintage will be bottled, designated by their village appellations, bearing such names as Moulin-a-Vent, Morgon, Brouilly. These spend some time in casks or bottles before release in the next spring. These are distinctive wines, defined by their soils and blending traditions, sometimes aging well, some meant to be drunk young. The nouveau wine is rarely proof of vintage quality, but can be an indicator. Usually, though, it's just party wine, served cool (NOT cold, unless it's really bad), suitable for chips and dips. It's cash flow wine. I poured. We swirled, sniffed. Kat glanced at me, brows raised. We sniffed again, "Oh, my," she said. I hesitated, sipped. "Oh, my," I replied. Here it was, here it is, the best nouveau vintage we've tasted in years. Results follow, all Beaujolais Nouveau 2000: Joseph Drouhin ($10) -- pretty color, aromas like Bazooka bubblegum, fresh fruit flavors, lively and fun. This can be a sipper or can be matched with light foods and cheeses. Georges Duboeuf ($9-10) -- Just leaps in the scents and flavors, a burst of cherry fruit, mouth-filling, smile-making. Wonderful stuff. Dominique Piron Les Balmes ($?) -- Generous, fresh fruit, but firm, almost villages-quality, almost Morgon. Delish. May be hard to find. Many are still widely available, even in supermarkets. Hurry — and watch for the release of the more serious cousins this spring. End of report: Winter reds next month. Back to Top Table of Contents | News & Views | Arts & Entertainment Classifieds | Personals | EW Archive