The glass is always full at this New Bedford museum

They say a great party always winds up in the kitchen. Maybe even more true is this: a great collection always winds up in the basement.

For the dedicated home hobbyist who has devoted much time to amassing many variations on the same theme, there’s surely no better feeling than leading a friend down a set of stairs where that beloved set of … whatever … awaits.

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Whether it’s vintage license plates, the Chicago Bears, or movie posters of the 1970s — the fixation varies, but the passion is the same. The theme element is meticulously organized, displayed for maximum impact and with great pride. And the only thing better than the collection? Sharing it with others.

So it’s fitting that the New Bedford Museum of Glass is located in the basement of the James Arnold Mansion on County Street, in what used to be a bowling alley.

This is where you’ll find Kirk Nelson every Wednesday through Sunday, from noon to five — though surely he’s there on Mondays and Tuesdays as well, and quite possibly at any time of the day or night.

Despite the use of the royal “we” on all of the museum’s literature and promotion, the collection is driven by one man’s blinding focus and unwavering passion. If this operation were a movie, he’d be the producer, director, writer, and lead actor.

This is his man cave, and few who descend into it will fail to be moved by his sheer enthusiasm for the subject.

His résumé details a life dedicated unwaveringly to the study of glass as both an art and a science, with accomplishments as shiny (and obscure) as the pieces in his museum. If there’s ever to be a Glass History Hall of Fame, Nelson would be elected without debate.

Which begs the question: Who, exactly, is interested in the history of glass — specifically, the history of glass in New Bedford?

As a museum theme, it’s certainly not as rich as the history of whaling chronicled a few blocks south. There are, after all, no classic works of literature about fishing captains fixated on revenge against a bloodthirsty Venetian chandelier.

But when you leave Nelson’s basement, you leave better for the experience.

The Arnold Mansion’s main use is as the home of the Wamsutta Club since 1919, and it was just over 100 years later — in May of 2020 — that the glass museum came to occupy the most modest section of a lavish, sprawling social club and function hall.

Small blue signs direct you there from the street and the parking lot, down a well-seasoned flight of stairs.

The door opens to a room circled by — you guessed it — hundreds of glass pieces organized neatly in glass cases. It’s the gift shop, as it turns out, but more like the appetizer to the main course.

The tour is underway when you enter, led by the man himself — dressed in a sweater and jaunty cap, middle-aged, eyes bright, mid-explanation.

“Welcome!” he says as you start to peer into the display cases at the beautiful works within.

On this particular Saturday afternoon, two couples are taking the tour. The museum area itself is small — the length of the old bowling lanes — with three aisles, several nooks, and a smattering of crannies.

Over the course of about an hour, Nelson guides the group slowly through themed sections, detailing the history of each with an enthusiasm that belies the thousands of times he’s done it before. Depending on the guests’ level of glass knowledge, the information lands with knowing nods or puzzled brows. There’s a lot to take in, and it feels more like a college class than a leisurely stroll.

If you’ve ever watched Antiques Roadshow and wondered who these experts are that seem to know an impossible amount about a very specific specialty — they’re people like Nelson, devoted to study and appreciation.

It’s impossible to resist Nelson’s energy as he directs the small group with pace and patience, keeping it simple but never dumbing it down.

You learn about the golden era of fine glass in New Bedford — some of it made in this very building in the 1800s and early 1900s. You see examples of Pairpoint cut glass, intricate paperweights, Tiffany pieces. You watch him demonstrate how glass was made on centuries-old wooden contraptions that remind you how far technology has come.

You enter a darkened room with several works from the artist Edris Eckhardt, a woman who broke into the male-dominated field under an androgynous pseudonym and developed a unique glass technique that still remains a mystery. There are large swan-like sculptures at the far end, whose description you miss as you take your hundredth photo with your smartphone.

And of course, you watch your step and keep your elbows in, imagining yourself losing your balance and toppling into a display case — becoming YouTube famous with a video titled “WATCH! Idiot Destroys Glass Museum.”

But there are no such calamities, and despite hosting countless groups of schoolchildren and visitors with unsteady gaits, the only problem he notes is “nose prints on the glass cases.”

Touring the museum

The history of New Bedford’s thriving glass scene stops in the early 20th century, thanks to bad business, tragic events, and the inevitability of change. Someone asks if there’s anyone still carrying on the torch — a new generation here in New Bedford.

His chin dips a bit, and with a melancholy nod he explains that there really hasn’t been anyone making fine glass in the city for some time. He’s apologetic — perhaps because he feels responsible as the protector of the industry’s legacy.

After a pause to ponder this, he pivots, leaning forward with a welcoming gesture.

“But we’d love to have one!”

The museum survives on Nelson’s dogged efforts and the passion and kindness of others. Many of the pieces in the museum are from the Nelson family collection, donated by his father, a noted collector. Others come through a network of sponsors and experts — he excitedly tells the group that a new piece had similar ones selling for $10,000 (“but we got it for less, fortunately”).

As museum tours do, it exits back to the gift shop — which is worthy of its own trip during the holiday season. The pieces there are mostly gifts from collectors, and along with the modest admission cost ($10) and a donation jar populated with a smattering of bills, the museum doors stay open.

A third major component is his library of glass-related works, located behind a locked door that he opens carefully — the museum’s cat, Angus, a striped tabby, lives in there and sometimes escapes to explore the upstairs.

Inside the room are hundreds — maybe thousands — of books and scattered glass pieces. Although he says it’s not ready for full public display, it seems like a great place for a person — or a cat — to spend some time.

It’s easy to imagine Kirk Nelson back down there after the last tour of the day, opening a can of Friskies for Angus, removing his shoes, taking a deep, satisfied breath, and looking around at all that beautiful, wonderful glass.

And, most importantly, wondering: What am I going to add next?

Jonathan Comey is a decorated newspaper editor and columnist and a contributor to The New Bedford Light. Please send emails to him at jcomey@newbedfordlight.org.