- Reading time: 3 minutes
- Price: Free download
- Published: 16th September 2026
- Word count: 789 words
- File format: Text
Why do you want to study this course or subject?
My aunt repairs leaded windows for local churches and houses, and for the last three years I have spent most Saturdays in her workshop holding panels steady, sorting offcuts and learning to cut a reliable straight score. What keeps me there is how little glass behaves like other materials. It is rigid until it is not; it rewards a confident hand and punishes hesitation; and the same sheet reads completely differently depending on whether light is behind it or on it. I want to study glass art because I would like to work with it as a material in its own right rather than only as a repair medium, and because I am far more interested in making than in describing making. Reading has widened what I think glass can do. Cindy Ann Coldiron's short history of pressed glass showed me how much industrial process shapes what we consider a design, and looking at Dale Chihuly's work made me realise that scale and grouping can matter as much as the individual form. I have also spent time with photographs of medieval grisaille windows, where the pattern is carried by line and tone rather than strong colour, which is closer to what I find myself drawn to. A degree would give me access to hot glass, kiln processes and cold working alongside sustained criticism of my own ideas, which is what I cannot get from a domestic workshop and a library card.
How have your qualifications and studies helped you to prepare?
My A levels in Art and Design, Chemistry and History each feed this application in different ways. In Art I have built a body of work around light and transparency, including a sequence of drawings of water in jam jars that forced me to look properly at refraction rather than drawing what I assumed was there. My final project is a set of small panels exploring how overlapping layers of tissue and acetate can imitate flashed glass, which has taught me to plan for the finished piece rather than the maquette. Chemistry has been unexpectedly useful. Studying metal ions in solution and the colours they produce made sense of why my aunt's supplier lists cobalt, copper and selenium as colourants, and work on amorphous solids and cooling rates helped me understand why annealing matters and why a piece can survive the kiln and then fail overnight. I am careful not to overstate this: I understand the principles at school level, not the practice of a batch furnace. History has trained me to build an argument from evidence, which I have used in essays on nineteenth century industry and on the Gothic Revival. I also chose to write my extended piece of coursework on changes in church restoration during the Victorian period, which gave me a clearer sense of why so many of the windows my aunt works on are replacements rather than originals.
What else have you done to prepare outside of education, and why are these experiences useful?
Alongside college I work Saturday mornings in a garden centre, mostly on tills and plant care. It is ordinary work, but it has made me quicker at talking to people I do not know and better at keeping calm when four customers want attention at once, which matters in any shared studio. In my aunt's workshop I have learned specific, limited skills: cutting to a template, grozing an edge, cementing and cleaning a panel, and keeping a tidy bench so that glass dust and lead do not travel. She checks all the soldering and I do not claim to be a glazier, but I have made two small panels of my own, one of which hangs in her kitchen and shows every mistake I made on the first. I volunteer twice a month at a craft afternoon run at a community centre, helping older residents with card making and mosaic work. Explaining a technique to someone with limited grip strength has taught me to break tasks down and to adapt rather than insist, and I enjoy the conversation as much as the making. My longest-running habit is collecting glass from the river near my grandparents' house, which I wash, sort by colour and record in a notebook with the date and the place found. Several of those fragments have become the starting point for colour studies in my portfolio, and the habit of looking closely at worn, imperfect surfaces is something I would want to carry into a degree.
This example has 4,067 characters across the three answers. Use it for ideas and structure. Your own UCAS answers must fit within 4,000 characters in total, including spaces.
Why this example works — strengths and ways to improve
This is a well-grounded statement. Its weekend workshop experience, school coursework and personal habits all connect convincingly to glass, and the voice stays honest about your limits. The main problems are practical. The text runs 67 characters over the 4,000 limit, and the workshop appears in two answers. A few links, such as the garden centre point, are less developed than your strongest material.
Subject motivation
It is rigid until it is not; it rewards a confident hand and punishes hesitation
This works because your interest comes from handling the material, not from a claimed passion. The grisaille observation adds a personal aesthetic direction. The Chihuly and pressed-glass references are thinner. Each states a conclusion without showing what you did with it, and you should double-check the details of any book you cite.
Academic preparation
forced me to look properly at refraction rather than drawing what I assumed was there
Each A level earns its place with a concrete example: the jam-jar drawings, the work on metal ions and annealing, and the restoration coursework. The History section ends on a useful link to your aunt's windows. The Gothic Revival essay could say what argument you made, rather than only naming the topic.
Evidence and reflection
I understand the principles at school level, not the practice of a batch furnace
Your reflection is real rather than a list of generic skills. You explain why annealing failures happen and then set the limits of your knowledge yourself. The tissue-and-acetate project's lesson about planning for the finished piece would be stronger with one sentence on what went wrong or changed.
Relevant experience
Explaining a technique to someone with limited grip strength has taught me to break tasks down
The volunteering and river-glass collecting are selective and well reflected on. The river glass in particular feeds your portfolio directly. The garden centre's link to a shared studio feels forced and could be shortened. Some workshop detail repeats what your first answer already covers, so you could tighten it there.
Credibility and voice
She checks all the soldering and I do not claim to be a glazier
Your claims fit your age and stage throughout. Admitting that one panel shows every mistake you made reads as confident rather than self-deprecating. Nothing suggests professional authority. The prose is plain and precise, without ornament, which suits a making-focused applicant.
Structure and format
This example has 4,067 characters across the three answers.
Each answer comfortably exceeds 350 characters, and the order runs logically from motivation to study to wider experience. However, the total exceeds the 4,000-character limit, so cuts are required. It is also well above the library's 3,500 minimum, so trimming will not cause a problem there.
What you’ve done well
- The chemistry section links school-level theory (metal ion colours, cooling rates) to real problems in the workshop and openly states the limits of your understanding.
- The river-glass notebook is an ordinary, distinctive habit that you connect clearly to your portfolio colour studies and to a way of looking.
How this draft could improve
- Cut at least 67 characters. The garden centre sentences and the repeated workshop description in your third answer are the easiest places to trim.
- Avoid repeating the workshop across answers. Keep its motivating role in your first answer and limit your third answer to the specific skills and your two panels.
- Replace the general Chihuly sentence with one observation you tested in your own drawings or panels, so the reading shows influence rather than awareness.