Glashouse - February 2004
Sarah Hall: Mystical Light
The transformation of space is the great glory of the art of stained glass. The Gathering Space of St. John of the Cross Catholic Community in Mississauga, Ontario, is a 30 foot circular room, with ten rectangular openings for light. For Toronto stained glass artist Sarah Hall and Glasmalerei Peters in Paderborn, Germany, the challenge was to make the mystical contemplative spirit of the Carmelites present within this coolly elegant space.
Rising to the challenge, Sarah Hall has created ten glowing, light -filled evocations of the brilliant spiritual vision first codified by St. Albert of Jerusalem. Eight of the windows relate to important figures in Carmelite history, including Teresa of Avila, Simon Stock, St. John of the Cross and St. Albert himself The other two, which are dedicated to St. Elizabeth Seton and St. Richard, are created in the same aesthetic spirit. One can hardly imagine a more fitting memorial since no order emphasizes the creative, imaginative side of spiritual life more than the Carmelites.
After selecting a text for each window, Hall composed a series of geometric colour fields to form the basis of each piece. These geometric grounds tell stories in and of themselves; each one is a complete, resolved composition that responds emotionally and artistically to the selected text, using the tools of the stained glass artist: colour, light gradation, texture, translucency opacity; everything but figures. Images were then superimposed on the colour fields; four were figural the other six were symbolic evocations of the saints. The figures are highly expressive in the way they are rendered with a loose, sketch-like style that is more like a spiritual gesture than portraiture. These sparkling, immaterial entities leave one in no doubt: these are spirits, not bodies.
The techniques required to create such light shimmering images were, naturally, hugely labour- intensive and complex. Each section of glass consists of two layers. The first combines airbrushed and painted enamels, with four-stage sandblasting on the back surface. The second layer was painted and fired Photo screens were used in three of the windows; twice for texture, once for an image (the St. Elizabeth Seton window, which actually depicts her daughter, Rebecca). The text in each window was etched into the fired enamels. Out of the fire and blasting of the studio emerged windows of singular quiet, lightness and delicacy. Their exceptionally serene, contemplative sensibility would have been impossible with traditional stained glass techniques. There is an unavoidable structural quality to leaded glass; everywhere, it speaks of its construction and assembly: Here, all that seems to have vanished,' these windows are apparitional floating in space, seeming to have formed spontaneously, without such earthly considerations as gravity and lead lines. Glasmalerei Peters would be quick to point out that nothing could be further from the truth, but the illusion is a deeply satisfying and uplifting one.
These windows at St. John of the Cross demonstrate sensitivity to the Carmelite tradition, technical innovation, and artistic virtuosity. Most importantly, the mystical, ecstatic spirit of St. John of the Cross lives, breathes and speaks to us through them; the love and compassion of St. Teresa of Avila reach out and embrace us. Through the intervention of the artist and the gifts of light, colour and words, eight centuries of Carmelite spirituality converge inside a simple, white circle.
