At the Bowls Club

The Bowls Club window, week one.

The Marlborough group of Arts Together, a charity that brings together professional artists and older people for weekly art workshops, meets in the Bowls Club. The windows there provided a good setting for the latest version of my glass painting project. At the end of week one we had a row of glass pieces on the window sill ready to fire, their black iron oxide paint having been textured and scratched off by the group members. Four weeks later, after sessions of enamel painting on the centre and border pieces, I returned with the panels that I’d leaded up in my studio, mostly to their specifications, and displayed them on the window sill again. The black and white pieces looked so good in the first photo, the question is have we improved them over the following weeks?

The Bowls Club window, week five.

Glass by Alan, week one and completed panel.

The example of Alan’s panel (above and below) shows the process from week one, with his enigmatic scraffito drawing on a layer of black paint that becomes the ground for further layers of painting in transparent enamel - harder to do and harder to predict the outcome. The borders are a mix of decorative and sample pieces that make it possible to link the pieces together into a solid stained glass panel, a thing that members might actually want to have.

Glass by Alan, week two before and after firing, week four choosing coloured glass to add in corners.

Glass by Gillian, week one, week two and completed panel.

The example of Gillian’s panel (above) shows an original drawing done with great confidence but not really improved by the enamelling, which she did in a ‘colouring in’ style. Her borders however, with speedy, drippy paintwork worked perfectly the first time, no coloured glass pieces were needed to help out the composition of the panel.

A finished stained glass panel represents several hours of work, with different techniques tried out, skills learned and choices made. In terms of the aims of the group, the activity is more important than the art, which should be enjoyable and sociable. You might think that the purity and simplicity of the black and white drawings are sacrificed during the process, but in this type of teaching it’s more about what you learn than what you make.

Gillian (on left) and friends: Alan and Bill painting.

Styles in glass painting and lettering

Left: West window by A.J. Davies at St Mary Magdalene Church, Crowmarsh Gifford. Right: Interior of St Lawrence, Warborough, Oxfordshire.

Since seeing his little east window at St Margaret’s in Herefordshire (described on my blog here) I’m getting more interested in the work of A.J. Davies of the Bromsgrove Guild. The first window I saw on this Oxfordshire trip was in the church at Crowmarsh Gifford (above left) high up above the west entrance door and slightly lost in its surroundings (my zoomless camera couldn’t capture the details). However St. Lawrence church at Warborough, only four miles away, has three A.J. Davies windows from different periods, therefore interesting to compare them with each other and to see their quiet impact on the whole church (above right).

Warborough: East window by A.J. Davies (1919) and details from the bottom lights.

The east window is dedicated to those who died in the First World War with large and small figures, badges and scenes united by patterned borders and quarries. The scenes at the bottom show how these quarries, covered in unconnected painted ornamentation, break out into different shapes with strong lettering incorporated into the design and his signature so usefully placed at bottom right.

Warborough: North nave window by A.J. Davies & detail (1924).

At the north east corner of the church is this slightly later work (above) of an organ playing monk next to St Hilary. In the background are the same sort of symbolic details that I’d admired in his St. Margaret window, angels and radiating light as well as a flock of cute bluebirds. The snakes and slipper detail below shows the technique of covering all the pieces of glass with paint, then removing it with textured strokes, scraping and stippling to let the light come through in a subtle way.

A.J. Davies made the third window (below), also visible in the photo of the church interior, twenty two years later towards the end of his life. Gone are the interestingly shaped background pieces, the patterns and the branches for borders. Instead we have a stippled background, realistic looking flowers instead of floral ornamentation and some cute children, all of which record changing fashions in the making or commissioning of stained glass.

Warborough: North nave window by A.J. Davies & detail (1946).

St Mary Magdalene Church, Crowmarsh Gifford, Oxfordshire. North chancel window by Charles de Vic Carey, 1961.

On the same trip I was thrilled by a small lancet window in the church at Crowmarsh Gifford, the only one I have ever seen by Charles de Vic Carey, the teacher at Wimbledon Art School of Pauline Boty and my first stained glass teacher, Tony Attenborough. In it, I recognised the way I was encouraged to paint, with visible brush strokes (so good to see some actual painting rather than the endless quest to find different ways of applying the paint) going across lead lines and uniting the pieces of glass to make a composition, as a painter would. At the bottom is a little, loosely painted portrait of Emily Wilder and children above the fabulous lettering that is collage like and totally of its time.

Details from the bottom half of the Charles de Vic Carey window.

Arts Together

I planned a project for Arts Together, a charity that brings together professional artists and older people for weekly art workshops across Wiltshire. The focus was on glass painting and the aim was for each person to have their own stained glass panel at the end without them having to do any glass cutting, leading or soldering for which you need more than the average older person’s strength.

Twelve completed stained glass panels by members of the Pewsey group run by Arts Together.

As you can see from the completed panels (above), they turned out to be varied and original, reflecting the preferences and interests of each member. In week one participants removed the paint, scraffito style, with sticks, brushes and cotton buds and no real idea how the glass would look after firing, even more so in week two when they added enamels that become transparent when fired. This made the work experimental as did the fact that this was a new project and I had no examples to show, therefore nothing for people to copy - I love it when people draw from something in their head rather than from something on their phone.

The stages over the five week period are shown in the photos below.

Week one: scraffito on pieces of glass covered with black iron oxide paint. Carol, Norman, Liz.

Weeks two & three: add enamel paint, start painting borders. Centre shows glass before firing in my kiln. Cis, Janet.

Weeks three & four: (above and below) paint borders, choose coloured glass to add in. Vanessa, Helena, Helena.

Between weeks four & five I leaded and soldered each panel. Derek, Ruth, Ruth.

Week five: (no pictures as we were too busy) cementing.

Scrap Glass

Left, palette with unfired enamel paint. Right, glass scraps painted with two enamel colours and fired.

For a recent commission I had to make a lot of colour samples using transparent glass enamel mixed with a drop of lavender oil and another of gum arabic in the traditional way. With the leftover paint I coated rectangles of glass with two colours against each other and once fired, saved them in a box. The next stage, cutting them up then leading them together to make something satisfactory, proved harder than I thought.

Scraps cut up and arranged to make scrap panels 1, 2 and 3.

My first idea was to make exuberant curved shapes with background pieces cut on the slant (scrap panel 1 above and below). The offcuts from the slanted pieces made an effortless triangle panel (scrap panel 2 above & below). I shouldn’t have been surprised that panel no 2 was so much better than panel no 1, as I wasn’t trying too hard - always a recipe for disaster. There was too much yellow in no 1, so panel no 3 (above right) was an attempt to deal with the yellow by making it the spine of the piece and using the colours in a more ordered way.

Scrap panels completed, top panels 1 & 2. Bottom panels 3 & 4.

The original format of panel no 3 looked very clumsy, so I cut it down to make a smaller panel no 3 (above right). Finally, to emphasise the original idea of the two enamel colours coming together on one piece, like a simple flag or landscape design, I made panel panel no 4 (above left) where the bands of complimentary colours frame other painted and sandblasted scraps from one of my many boxes of broken glass and sample pieces.

Fashions in Stained glass

Cathedral of St Mary of the Assumption, Vaison-La-Romaine

In this account of our road trip we are now on the way home, travelling from the south of France back to Calais. First stop Vaison-La-Romaine where, at the top of the medieval town with a view over Mont Ventoux, is the recently restored Cathedral of St Mary of the Assumption. All the windows are the work of the artist and Dominican preacher Kim En Joong, who has been making stained glass for French cathedrals and churches since 1989. These are the first I have seen in reality and the semi restored state of the cathedral seemed the perfect setting for his floating calligraphic style.

Vaison-La-Romaine, all windows by Kim En Joong, 2018-19 (above and below).

Kim En Joong travelled from South Korea, where he studied traditional taoist calligraphy and fine art, to Switzerland where he studied art history, theology and metaphysics before entering the Dominican order. For this commission of nineteen windows, Kim painted the designs on canvas, using mixed materials, tools and layers. These paintings were then interpreted by the German glass studio Derix, with air brushing, hand painting and some layering of the glass to get a perfect imitation of the paintings. The windows are abstract with no overt story telling, they seem both ancient and modern and I think, very safe.

Abbey St Philibert, Tournus.

Our next visit took us further back in time, with exquisite stained glass from the 1960s in the romanesque Abbey of St Philibert, Tournus, built from the eleventh century onwards. Most of the windows are by Brigitte Simon, an artist from a famous stained glass family in Reims and, with her husband Charles Marq, the maker of many of Chagall’s windows. Here, she said her goal had been ‘to extend the impression of the stones and to preserve in this mother-of-pearl space the full melody of its true colour, rose.’

Tournus, all windows by Brigitte Simon, 1964-7 (above and below).

As well as rose, there are glowing golden windows around the apse (top) and very subtle grey ones high up in the nave (above left). The most beautiful one is in a gothic transept windows, with a combination of pink, lilac and neutral coloured glass in wandering lead lines that match the cobwebs (below).

An account of the windows in the abbey tells us a lot about changes in stained glass fashions, some of them due to the course of history. The original alabaster windows from the 11th century were replaced by 12th century stained glass ones. These were destroyed in the 16th century Wars of Religion and another set was installed in the 19th century then blown out during the Second World War. When new windows were installed in the 1950s, they were the work of Pierre Choutet and Max Ingrand. Three of these have been retained, but the rest proved so controversial that they were removed and replaced by Brigitte Simon’s series which take a purely architectural even decorative approach. The controversial windows, at least the ones I’ve seen, are figurative with angular typically 1950s figures in muted colours (below left). The sort of thing we are so used to seeing in european churches that they fade into the background with no chance of offending anyone.

Tournus, Left, chapel window by Choutet or Ingrand. Centre and right, windows by Brigitte Simon.