The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Neon artist shines on after mentor’s death
Alissa Eberle unveiled her first neon art show this month — but her biggest fan won’t be there. He passed away in July.
Alissa Eberle begged to work for free. A transplant to Philadelphia, the artist, who hardly knew how to use a drill but desperately wanted to create neon signs for a living, walked into Urban Neon in Delaware County, Pa., in 2012 and asked to learn from one of the region’s most prominent sign-makers.
Owner Domenic Urbani, one of just a handful of neon benders left in the area, said no, he wouldn’t allow someone to work in his shop for free. But he’d hire her as a fulltime sign fabricator, and when she clocked out each night, he’d teach her the ins and outs of a craft that largely died out after its 1950s heyday but has grown as an art form over the past decade.
Eberle spent the first year wondering if she’d ever be able to finish a project. Urbani was patient, and Eberle kept trying.
It paid off. Eberle, now 38, this month unveiled her first-ever neon art show, a collection of nine pieces titled “Already Dreamed.”
Her biggest fan won’t be there. In July, Urbani died at age 58 from cardiac disease, leaving behind Urban Neon to his wife, Betty, and their three sons who work in the shop. Eberle is now learning to bend in a world without her mentor.
“I don’t have a story of doing neon without him,” she said.
In an interview in August 2018,
Urbani said passing on the trade of bending neon was therapeutic. “I love teaching,” he said. “I’m really lucky to be able to do this.”
Neon bending is a complicated process of creating a pattern, bending the glass by heating it over open flames and meticulously turning it, welding pieces together, vacuuming out the air and pumping it with a cocktail of gases, wiring it for electricity, creating backings and installing the piece. Neon benders need to know what gas mixtures will yield which colors.
Eberle said she remembers asking how long to heat the glass. Every neon bender replied, “Until it’s done.” Skilled benders recognize when the glass is drooping and know to move the piece, a constant learning process that requires multiple senses.
“I tell other people who do neon, ‘If you knew how hard it was when you started, you might not learn,’” Eberle said. “I think I love that about it.”
Over the past few months, a co-worker at Urban Neon has been practicing with Eberle after work, asking questions with the hopes of one day learning the craft himself.
Early next year, Eberle’s first neon show, Juggernaut Studios plans to offer open neon bending classes.
This time, Eberle’s doing the teaching.