Behind the Scenes

Left, East Hagbourne, Oxfordshire. Right, Urchfont, Wiltshire.

To see the medieval glass patchworked into a window at St Andrew’s Church, East Hagbourne (above left) I had to poke my head through a screen of heavy curtains that hide the vicar’s desk. To get up close to Rosalind Grimshaw’s window in Urchfont church I had to move piles of chairs and toys (above right). I’ve now started looking out for the children’s corners which, like kitchens in churches, give an indication of how the church is being used.

Left, inviting at North Moreton, Oxfordshire. Right, austere at Potterne, Wiltshire.

Steeple Ashton, Wiltshire.

In the huge church of St Peter and St Paul, Steeple Ashton, everything is clean and neat with fragments of medieval glass in almost all of the windows. The door to the vestry, not a separate room but just a space sectioned off, was open and everything inside was in order (above left). The children’s corner (above right) actually looked like you might want to spend time there, it seemed to have been arranged by someone who actually cares what the place looks like.

My best behind the scenes photo, above left, is from the corner of another huge church, this one at Madley in Herefordshire. The scene is simply furnished, the atmosphere is timeless. In the east window of the church is a wealth of medieval stained glass (below), but even more unusually there are twenty first century paintings by Edward Kelly installed in the nave and the crypt (above right). The triptych in the crypt is a particularly wonderful sight because paintings, particularly modern ones, are rarely found in English churches.

This from The Rev Simon Lockett, who I like to imagine sitting on that pink cushion. ‘It is a great joy to have the triptych “The Lillies of the Field” here in Madley Crypt. I have lived with these paintings for a long time now and they have helped to bring this beautiful space alive giving the crypt depth as well as a flourish of colour and bold form. They have helped with a contemplative practice as well as a daily reminder not only of the beauty of creation but of the natural cycle of abundance, death and new life’.

Medieval glass in the east window of The Church of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Madley.

Introduction to the French Road Trip

Rouen Cathedral with stained glass by Max Ingrand 1956 (below)

The first leg of our road trip consisted of a journey from the north - Calais - to the south - Mazamet - with stops along the way, some for stained glass and some for camping. Our first stop was Rouen and a quick evening visit to Notre Dame Cathedral, famous for its façade painted by Monet, drawn by Ruskin and admired by William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones on their sight seeing visit in 1855. On our trip the heat wave was on and the sun was blazing through tall thin windows filled with excellent examples of stained glass from the 13th to the 16th century. The 1950s windows, most notably by Max Ingrand, replaced the ones that were bombed during the Second World War. They are similar to the cathedral’s medieval and renaissance windows in terms of composition, with colours and imagery that fit in, in an unremarkable way. I loved the patterned windows (top right) in a design of squares and diamonds with painted details that makes the glass look padded, like a quilt.

Stained glass windows in the church of St Ouen, Léry.

Early the next morning we stopped outside a church 15 miles away, and found it open, the interior beautifully kept. It looked, sounded (taped organ music) and smelt in perfect order, with painted walls, tiled floors, wooden sculptures and a complete set of twentieth century windows. The ones in the lower windows (shown above) were all of a similar design in different colour combinations and they became more satisfying the longer we looked at them. Like the patterned windows in Rouen Cathedral, I couldn’t find a name or a date, and like those windows they were in harmony with the architecture. When I was an art student I used to call this sort of stained glass ‘subservient to the architecture’, now I tend to think that’s a positive quality for a stained glass window to have.

Chartres Cathedral: east window, west window and Notre Dame de la Belle Verrière. 12th and 13th century glass.

We spent a day in Chartres, where I hadn’t been since I was a school student. I knew the interior had been controversially cleaned, so the pools of coloured light projected through the glass don’t seem so intense now that the interior is mostly white, rather than mostly black. However the medieval stained glass in its entirety is the best there is; huge and intricate, overwhelming and predominantly cobalt blue. The windows above the west door are beautiful (above centre) and so is the window of Notre Dame de la Belle Verrière (above right) that was always one of my favourites in my stained glass picture books. That’s one of the points of the road trip - to stand in front of your favourite artworks, an experience that is completely different from looking at them in a book or on a screen.

Drayton and Yarnton, Oxfordshire

Our cellar

When we decorated our cellar Ray set some of his relief plaster panels, made about twenty years ago, into the walls. It may not be obvious why from the photo above, but I like to think of the link these have to altar pieces, particularly those carved in Nottingham alabaster from the fourteenth to sixteenth centuries. We went to St. Peter’s church in Drayton, Oxfordshire to see a set of particularly fine examples of the genre which had survived because they were buried for safety and rediscovered when a vault was dug out in 1814.

Fifteenth century altar piece in St Peter’s church, Drayton, Oxfordshire

There are six scenes crowded with dynamic figures, heads, animals and angels. The panels, some with missing sections, are about 40 cms. tall with traces of paint visible and are mounted in the wall behind an altar. I was so captivated that I couldn’t really be bothered with the (nineteenth and twentieth century) stained glass in the church, but we did find a guide book that told us about a similar Nottingham alabaster altar piece in St. Bartholomew’s at Yarnton, only 15 miles away - a church I knew by name but couldn’t remember why.

The two end panels of the Drayton altar piece

Fifteenth century altar piece in St Bartholomew’s church, Yarnton, Oxfordshire

This altar piece (above) with two of the six panels missing, proved much less exciting than the Drayton one mainly because of the way that the panels are mounted, surrounded by heavy stone, and lit with a dim yellow light. However, every window in the church is filled with fragments of the most fantastic medieval english and continental stained glass, most of it given by alderman William Fletcher, Mayor of Oxford, in 1813. We stayed for a long time, admiring the details and the style of the figures so in keeping with the altar piece; I was delighted not to have my medieval reverie interrupted by any more modern glass here.

Yarnton church: East window (above the Nottingham alabaster altar piece) mainly English C15th and detail.

Two more depictions of the virgin and child (with other painted fragments) in the north windows of Yarnton church.

Details from the north west window of Yarnton church.

Left, The only C15th pieces that are in their original position in the top tracery, north window. Right, Head and birds in the sanctuary window, Yarnton.

To me, the most exciting windows are the reset angels in deep alcoves, lit by sunshine in the south west corner of the church (below). The windows are small enough for the mainly fifteenth century pieces to make a complete picture in each one, with some pattern, some objects ( a wheel or a surveillance camera, a football or a flower?) some border pieces, some incongruous bird and animal segments, fritillaries and bluebells. The faces that loom out of the bottom of the right hand window (bottom picture) have a particular other worldly quality - there is nothing in the centuries of stained glass painting that I would rather see.

Angel windows in the south wall of Yarnton church.

The two angel windows in Yarnton church.

Details of painted glass in the bottom of the left hand angel window

Detail from the bottom of right hand angel window

Disembodied head

Purple man from ‘These People Are Intellectuals…’ Left, in progress. Right, in the exhibition at Norwich Cathedral

Purple man’s disembodied head was an unplanned addition to our exhibition at The Hostry, Norwich Cathedral. When making the stained glass panel ‘These People are Intellectuals, They Live in Houses Full of Books and Have Nothing Worth Stealing’ (described in a previous blog post) purple man ended up with two alternative heads. I did a second one (on the left in the photos above) out of the same piece of flashed streaky purple glass because I thought I’d sandblasted too much of the purple layer off on the first head. However head number one turned out to be the best one, so head number two ended up on its own stand in the display case alongside an explanation of how the window was made.

St Margaret, Stratton Strawless Left, the south aisle. Right, north window containing medieval glass.

When you start looking at old stained glass in churches you get used to seeing disembodied heads. These are pieces of medieval stained glass that have survived breakages or the releading of windows and find themselves either part of another picture or out on their own. We made a trip to the village of Stratton Strawless, just north of Norwich, to see a perfect example of fifteenth century Norwich glass painting in the angel head which has been set into a clear glass window (above and below). Miraculously the church was not locked and it is full of stupendous monuments and second hand books as well as the angel head which seems so beautifully done now that I’ve started painting heads myself.

Stratton Strawless, the C15th angel head.

Stratton Strawless, glass in the windows of the south aisle.

Set into the windows of the south aisle are a collection of other glass fragments, including the heads of a bishop, a king with a fascinating web of lead lines where he has broken and a strange head which is all beard and no hair (above right). All of the other churches we drove to were locked, so thank goodness for a visit to Castle Acre Priory. Here were windows and arches, carved patterns and lines and among them just a few carved heads (below).

Stone heads from Castle Acre Priory.

Wilton, Wiltshire

Sts. Mary and Nicholas Church, Wilton, showing the three apses.            Passage between tower and church.

This is Wiltshire in October, and the unlikely sight of a Romanesque church under a warm blue sky with light streaming through carved columns and ancient stained glass. It was built from 1841-5 by the architects Wyatt & Brandon and contains a collection of 12th - 17th century European stained glass (the best in Wiltshire?) as well as mosaics, marble furnishings, door panels and wall paintings. 

Looking from the gallery towards the main apse.                               Central panel, large late C12th head of a saint

In the seven lights of the main apse (above and below left) are superb 12th and 13th century medallions of French glass, including three from St. Denis, set into 19th century backgrounds and borders. The most striking is the central panel of a large saint's head with beautiful strong colours and painted brush strokes, an amazing focal point for the lavish decoration on surrounding walls, ceiling and floor. 

Light through medallions hits a painted wall.   Huge wheel window at the opposite end of the church contains a decorative mixture of 16th century Swiss and Austrian glass fragments and heraldic pieces.

Figures from the windows in the small north and south apses.

In the two small apses, either side of the main one, are smaller, ancient figures beautifully arranged and restored. I love the delicate paintwork of the angel and saints (above) - the negative/positive hands in the centre and the pink/yellow combination on the right. Here you can also find saints carrying their own heads (I've found differing opinions on which saints these are) with spectacular spurts of blood from the neck.

Martyred saints carrying their own heads - 16th century Swiss or German glass

A tall narrow window in the south aisle stood out because of its bright colouring, and looked vaguely familiar. The central figure of God the Father was made by Arnold of Nijmegen around 1525 as part of a huge window for the church of the Carmelite Nuns in Antwerp. Other parts of the window are in St. George's Church, Hanover Square, London. In both settings the old glass pieces have been skilfully arranged next to sections of glass from other periods and places - much like the Victorian backgrounds given to the figures and medallions in the apses. These are great example of the historical patchwork you find in many stained glass windows.

South aisle window with figure of God the Father/St. Nicholas above a German panel of the pieta.