Illuminations from the River of Light

A Work in Gold Leaf and Glass

It seems like another lifetime in which I had a different career. After a rigorous course of study and a qualifying exam, I took a job in a gemmology lab. There, I spent my time looking through the microscope at the internal world of gemstones: rubies, sapphires and emeralds. An important part of my job was to examine the gem’s inclusions to determine if the stone was of natural origin, or synthetically manufactured. Much hinged on this distinction. A synthetic gem can pass every other gemmological test - refractive index, specific gravity, spectroscopy - but under a powerful microscope the trained eye could decipher its true nature - and worth. The distinction means thousands of dollars of difference in the value of a stone.

I was attracted to the pure and intense colors of gems, and by how their facetted edges trapped and transformed light. As a gemmologist one discovers the beauty and complexity of the hidden world inside each gem. Each mineral type has characteristic patterns of growth known as inclusions, within its interior crystalline structure. Invisible to the naked eye, they reveal themselves under a powerful microscope, and are an essential means for determining the authenticity and origins of a gem.

Officially, my job was to appraise stones but my real love was viewing the beautiful internal world that the microscope revealed. Each type of gem is unique in its internal paragenesis, and this internal landscape is often dazzlingly beautiful and complex. In emeralds, the entangled inclusions so closely resemble sunlit shrubs that they are commonly called “jardin”. Another curious internal phenomena in emeralds from the Muzo mine in Columbia are three-phase inclusions which resemble elongated floating creatures. Some agates under magnification display branching tree- like formations composed of limonite. Intrigued by the beauty of these abstracted landscapes within the stones, I created several glass works based on these inclusions, using multi-layered flashed glass (figure 1 & 2) . For years I remained interested in that remote world - one that could be accessed only through the microscope.

Later I was reminded of my gemstone inclusion work when I began exploring imagery of a different type and on a vastly different scale. I was doing research for a large mural work based on the Canadian Shield - a harsh, infertile expanse of ancient bedrock which occupies two million square miles of my country. I spent an afternoon with a geographer who was one of the first to take space photography into the commercial world of computer-enhanced satellite maps. We scanned his vast library of satellite imagery and explored the Canadian Shield from space. From space the “Shield” looked like savagely weathered skin; faulted, gouged and ravaged with millions of twisted veins. In his darkened lab with giant computer screens surrounding us the experience of viewing the images was like flying. He was able to adjust how light fell on the landscape at any given time of day or season. Watching the Earth from space suddenly felt remarkably similar to viewing the deep, remote internal world of gemstones.

After completing that commission, the images and textures of these two worlds - the microscopic and the macroscopic - have stayed in my mind, and I began to look for a way to bring them into one work.

Last year I was commissioned to create artwork for a small ecumenical chapel located in a publicly funded hospital. There was considerable discussion by the committee, which consisted of representatives from all the major religions: Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Muslim and Buddhism. We talked about imagery, symbols and how important it was for many religious people not to have imagery. It is difficult enough for any religious group to agree on themes, symbols and images which an artist will work with. An ecumenical committee has an even more daunting task. Eventually the discussions centered around common sacred images which could be expressed in the artwork. The two images in which everyone found common ground were water and light.

In creating the design for the chapel at North York Hospital there was an opportunity to bring the two worlds - one seen through a microscope, and the other through an orbiting telescope - together. The process began with imagery of a river and as I began to work on the drawings I found myself observing the river from space, although the samples I created in the studio looked more like microscopic images of frozen water or of water flowing under the ice. The river became a river of light flowing through an earthy, metallic imaginary landscape. The cool icy effect of the deeply carved and etched glass was counterpointed with gold and copper leaf. Adding dimension, strength and color to the overall composition were oil paints and pastels (figures 3 - 6). I had never intended the river to be a literal image and the frequent reponse to my design was that it looked like a “map of some kind”. I loved the fact that there would be many different readings and interpretations of the work.

The chapel space was small and possessed no natural light - a factor which made me consider the possibility of combining gold-leafing, etching and carving. Another factor which guided me in this direction was an artwork in the collection of the donors - Dr. Jim Fleck and Rev. Margaret Fleck - an exceptional couple whose extensive art collection included one of my favorite English glass artists: John Hutton. Hutton created the monumental etched glass screen for Coventry Cathedral and his distinctive and remarkable work in glass has been an inspiration to me for many years. The Flecks possessed one of his rare, personal works and it was beautiful to view up close.

The entryway glass needed to be treated in a way which provided privacy for people in the chapel and once again I used the ideas of water and light although with a very different technique and to a very different effect (figures 7 & 8).

Humanity has come up with a myriad of ways to relate to the spiritual realm; the role of the hospital chapel is to provide in one place a forum in which people of all faiths can approach God in a way that is familiar to them, without imposing images and trappings that may interfere with this communion.

In doing a non-denominational window, it’s easy to get caught up in the “non-” part and forget about the positive role of the window - to provide comfort, and to connect the viewer with his or her spiritual self. Instead of thinking about what the window won’t portray, the artist needs to begin with the universal - that which unites us rather than devides us. Indeed, in a hospital chapel, it would be difficult to do otherwise, as the hospital itself forces us to face our humanity and mortality. It is there that we shed our differences, and become equals in our humanity. Not only religion, but sex, appearance, and race all become insignificant in the face of our common humanity.

What are the universal ideas and images that can be used? This question can’t be answered dispassionately, or academically. Unlike a church commission, where the artist draws on a religion’s images, icons and beliefs as materials to be worked with, in a hospital chapel the artist, as a human being, must answer the question as a human being - albeit as an individual living in a particular time and place.

In this place, North America, and in this time, the 20th (soon to be 21st) Century, there is a very rich lode of material to be mined. We have in our lifetimes seen an unprecedented explosion of knowledge, and undergone a transformation in our understanding of ourselves - through science, through a growing understanding of the breadth and depth of other religions and philosophies.

During the Renaissance we looked at human beauty to attract and engage the imagination in triumphing over evil and destruction. During the enlightenment we looked to reason to save us. In our “brave new world”, many of the certainties of religion and morality have been shaken, if not dismantled. But Science, for all its advances, has also made us acutely and painfully aware of what we don’t know, and perhaps can’t know.

In the 20th Century, this increase in knowledge, and the simultaneously growing understanding of the limits of that knowledge have expressed themselves in art as a fragmentation and abstraction of the image. Instead of visual accuracy and perfection, art expresses a humanity that is a work in process - one that is “becoming,” or blossoming - not resting in stasis, having found and assimilated the “truth.” We now find ourselves using the actual elements of line, color, and form to tell a story which is perceptible and credible.

In developing artwork for a universal - but not uniform - liturgy, we must create art which can pierce thru the realm of mystery - a visual articulation of possibilities. In this way, art can help humanity find a way out into the universe - to connect with the spiritual, the unknown.

In doing so, we reject science and technology as the new God. Instead, we can draw on the perspective of the Eastern religions, which accepts technology without giving up spirituality.

This window draws on technology for its images, but doesn’t let it define the spiritual message. The images illustrate in a way that perhaps could not have been done before; but they are only tools. This layering of time and abstraction, catching light in a depthless glowing, gives the eye a pathway to another realm. The spirit lives on in the light.

From a technical point of view, creating this glass wall mural was exceptionally challenging. The mural was divided into 31 6mm thick glass panels. The glass was worked on both sides with a combination of etching, carving, oil paints, pastels and leaf-work. All of the painting and leaf-work was done on the reverse side which means thinking and working backwards. The work which will be in the foreground must be applied first with the background applied in successive layers behind the first layer of imagery. Several times I had to sit down and write out a list of steps for myself!

The steps involved:

1. Drawing out the full size cartoon on translucent white paper (so that the design could also read on a light box) the full size of the mural was 8 feet in height by 20 feet wide. This was divided into 31 glass panels of 6mm thickness.

2. Cleaning both sides and masking both sides of 31 glass panels with transparent plastic.

3. In the areas which were to be deeply carved (within the River section of the design) the

   plastic masking was removed and thick mastic (calking) applied as a resist. As the calking was drying I dragged combs and various implements through the resist to form wave-like patterns. This had to be done with all of the panels lined up together so that the design connected perfectly from one panel to the next. On a large surface it is essential to work with an assistant so that while the artist is creating the pattern on one panel the next is being prepared and kept pliable enough to work through the mastic. If the calking dries out it will need to be removed and the process begun anew.

4. The mastic was allowed to dry for 24 hours and we then began the deep carving using the pressure pot. The glass was carved to various depths ranging from one eight to three eighths.

5. Once the deep carving was finished the panels were cleaned of the mastic by soaking in water and scraped clean. This soaking meant that the panels needed to be remasked with the transparent plastic again!

6. Second stage free-blasting over this River section then took place varying from light to medium frosting, leaving some of the areas completely transparent. Once all 31 panels were complete for this stage they were masked for protection.

7. The front side was then etched and subsequently masked for protection. The non- River

   section on the back was unmasked and given an even frosting to allow for reverse painting, pastel work and gold -leafing to be applied.

8. The 31 panels were laid back out on the cartoon and reverse painted. The oil paints were laid down first and allowed to dry for 48 hours. Secondary coloration was applied through dry pastels. This very soft color is rubbed into the sandblasted glass and achieves two important artistic purposes for when the leaf is applied there is a beautiful but subtle coloration of the leaf and its harsh, metallic quality disappears.

9. After the painting and pastels were complete an oil-based gold sizing was applied. This oil-based sizing is important since it restores the transparency of a sandblasted surface. Gold, copper, brass composition and oxidized leaf were then applied to the gold-size when it reached the proper tack.

10. area which was leafed was given an enamel spray coat to protect the fragile leaf during transportation and installation. All surfaces were then unmasked and cleaned. Once installed at the site all of the artwork is protected by being on the reverse side of the glass.

11. The entryway glass involved an entirely different technique. Blue flashed glass used as the base glass, was covered in spattered beeswax.