The Big Picture

A stained glass artist has to be adaptable. We are often working in spaces in which there are already one or more windows; and at times these can add up to a thumbnail history of the art of stained glass, with an emphasis on the Victorian era and its imitators up to the present day. Admittedly, there is a certain exhilaration in finding the ideal balance between a) acquiescing to the surrounding aesthetic, and b) striking off with your own very pure and personal vision - which may fail entirely to go with any of the surrounding windows. As you reach for that magical equilibrium, you may sigh, and think, “Wouldn’t it be great to have the whole space to work with?”

The simple answer is “Yes”. It is great. But it’s not necessarily any easier. Furnishing an entire church or chapel with glass requires a great deal of planning, and the artist has to take into account at least as many considerations as when he or she is “filling in” the windows in an existing space.

The matter of creating windows for an entire church has preoccupied me recently, as I am planning the final twelve clerestory windows for Immaculate Conception Church. This is a large project that has demanded much of my time and imagination over the past five years, and one of the challenges has been to keep a sense of unity among its more than forty individual works. These include rose windows, skylights, transept and nave windows, doors, and transoms. In the early years of this project, I had to try and picture each window in the context of all that were yet to be made. Now, as I consider how to approach the clerestory, I have the luxury of being able to fit the final pieces among real, completed works.

The church itself is notable for its intriguing use of light, sculptured volumes and space. Architect Nino Rico combined a contemporary interior with massive, Romanesque forms, and the result is a powerfully spiritual, yet peaceful place. When I first entered the church, I immediately saw how its dramatic shaping of light through the architecture gave me a starting point for my designs. Strong diagonal shafts of sunlight, and circles of light from the rose windows, give way over the course of the day to slivers and ovals of light, which play through the interior.

Light and space are only part of the equation. The visual and stylistic links that the artist can create throughout a site are inestimably enriched by an overall plan, or thematic framework. In churches, this would take the form of a plan of iconography. At Immaculate Conception, with its complex spaces and surfaces, and its variety of windows, such a tool was essential.

The plan of iconography for Immaculate Conception was developed by Fr. Vito Marziliano and Fr. Ugo Sturabotti, and it included both the windows and the sculpture in the church. This valuable resource laid the foundation for all of the artwork in the space. The windows have gone in as schedules and resources allowed, but the plan of iconography ensured that each panel would contribute to the whole. Compared to many, this church was fortunate in that it could complete its artwork within a relatively short time; a plan of iconography is even more valuable in a church that is introducing stained glass over the course of several years or decades. It provides an effective way to set out a consistent vision, and to help avoid the patchwork of themes that can come about through the decisions, however well-intended, of donors, committees and church personnel over the years. Moreover, by providing thematic connections between works, a plan of iconography gives the artist more freedom to combine different visual styles in the same space.

At Immaculate Conception, the plan of iconography centered on the story of Redemption. This encompasses an expansive ‘story’ with a wide range of symbols, people and events. In the windows throughout the church, I worked both in an abstract style and in the more figurative and symbolic mode represented in the main windows.

My initial window for the sanctuary drew on the strong geometric shapes derived from the play of light within the space, building on the moon and stars as symbols of the Virgin of the Immaculate Conception. The next ten sanctuary windows followed and held closely to this style.

The West Rose window above the sanctuary windows tells the story of Creation. The power and majesty of Creation is expressed in strong rays of light which divide the window. The figures of Adam and Eve, newly created and portrayed in red, survey the earth and all its dominions. Lines spiral through the window, representing the movement of the Spirit throughout Creation.

In creating the transept windows, I decided to move to a more figurative style. Ken Redmayne, a talented glass painter, joined us in creating the figurative work for these two windows. The challenge of integrating traditionally painted figures into my primarily abstract compositions was one that kept me awake nights. I tackled the problem by using visual and technical links to complement the thematic ones. Throughout my figures, I repeated the theme and technique of the moon and stars, to tie them in with the sanctuary windows. To frame the painted work, we created a rich border, composed of Schlitz glass and jewels.

The aisle windows moved back into a more abstract style. The four skylight canopies above the aisle windows were an extension of the sanctuary windows in their use of the celestial theme and technique. It also seemed an appropriate treatment for a skylight!

In the East Rose window, two figures stand at the gate of the golden New Jerusalem. Around its jewelled borders, the water of life and the tree of life come to the fore as the old Earth passes away. And in this window is a conclusion to the story of Redemption.

At the beginning of the project, it was an open question as to whether we would put stained glass in the clerestory or leave it open. So, the plan of iconography did not include these windows, and in the New Jerusalem, we had concluded our story. With the project for the clerestory windows in front of me, I consulted Fr. Vito and we discussed how these windows could now fit into the plan. Noting that we had concluded the story of redemption, he suggested that we move back in time, before creation, when "the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters" This theme is beautiful, and challenging - and now for how to get the scaffold up to those clerestory windows!