Showing posts with label glass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label glass. Show all posts

Friday, March 16, 2012

Medieval Stained Glass Pattern Work

Illustration: Stained glass window pattern from Lincoln Cathedral.

It is sometimes tempting to think that all ecclesiastical stained glass design work tells a figurative story. However, a considerable sum of stained glass production over the centuries has been of a non-figurative pattern type, a style for which the medium is aptly suited. Although a fair proportion of this abstract pattern work has been in the shape of 'filler' for the main event, as in border and demarcation of figurative work, often the borders being made up using left over glass from the main window display, sometimes these little vignettes of the medieval interpretation of pattern can be more interesting, and certainly more inspiring than that main event.

Colour has always had a relatively dominating aspect within the craft of stained glass window design, and in many ways it has defined the traditions and journey of the discipline. Colour, as it so often does, has helped to add dimension to non-figurative pattern work over the generations with many traditional patterns being transformed from generation to generation as the shapes, but also the colours, changed and evolved with a succession of tastes often dictated by culture, rather than personal creativity.

Illustration: Stained glass window pattern from Camberwell Church.

However, it is not only colour itself that came to dominate stained glass decoration but that of the particular and peculiar aspect that highlights this individualised form of craft, the luminescent quality of the glass itself. Through the use of light being cast through various forms of colouring, stained glass has become one of the most successful and creatively inspiring of the glass crafts. Although having certain technical similarities with mosaic, at least as far as assembly is concerned, it is the added natural quality of daylight that makes this particular craft unique.

The five examples of English medieval glass illustrating this article were not chosen for any specific quality apart from that of non-figurative pattern work. English medieval stained glass was certainly no better than that found in France or Germany for example. However, by choosing examples from large and relatively small ecclesiastical buildings, both cathedral and parish church, from one specific European country, it does give a fair indication of the creative cross-section of quality that was abundant and clearly readily available across England as well as the continent in general.

Illustration: Stained glass window pattern from Salisbury Cathedral.

Interestingly, a number of the examples, although largely abstract in nature, do have elements that tie them to their surrounding environment. Leaves, both natural and stylised seem particularly abundant and in many cases the stained glass window would have both highlighted and complemented the ornamental and painted work that filled most churches, abbeys and cathedrals with colour and decoration.

It perhaps should be noted that medieval ecclesiastical life was by no means one that was dominated by the black vestments and white-washed interiors of the protestant reformation. Medieval churches, abbeys and cathedrals could and were dominated by figurative and non-figurative decorative work on walls, pillars and roofs, both internally and externally. Sculpture would have been coloured, walls would have been painted with various biblical scenes and pillars would have been coloured with different forms of pattern work from spirals to diaper pattern work. Exploring the decoration within the backgrounds of illuminated manuscripts as well as the decorated borders of those same manuscripts give some indication of the quality and range of pattern work that was available to the medieval designer and decorator.

Illustration: Stained glass window pattern from Chartham Church.

In some respects, this should put the ideal of stained glass decoration in context, at least as far as the medieval world was concerned. If ecclesiastical buildings were both highly coloured and richly decorated, then stained glass windows would have been part of the interior scene and not necessarily separate from it. The fact that so many are now whitewashed and minimally inspired, at least as far as decoration and colour is concerned, allows stained glass windows to dominate interiors as they would never have done perhaps when they were originally installed. This is not to say that they were not noticed amongst the decoration. In many respects they would have been seen as the crowning glory or at least as a decorative spectacle, using both human ingenuity and technical ability along with the natural wonder of sunlight, giving a combination of luminescent light that has probably never been bettered.

Although, because of its obvious fragility, much of the original medieval glass work of Europe has been destroyed through political, social and religious upheavals over the generations as well as intentional and non-intentional vandalism, a proportion does still survive, particularly in some of the small rural churches where the dictates of central government or ecclesiastical office, often didn't effectively reach, although even this glass has been reused, requisitioned and repositioned over the generations often giving it a medieval collage effect. It will be interesting to see how long the remaining stained glass, whether original medieval, Victorian reimagining, or contemporary installations, last the test of time. Perhaps the fact that I noticed recently that the local parish church has wire netting in front of its stained glass windows to prevent damage from thrown rocks and stones, shows that perhaps it would not be as long as we would wish.

Illustration: Stained glass window pattern from Salisbury Cathedral.

An interesting video accompanies this article. It is of the South Newington Church and gives a good indication of some of the interior decorative work that could be found within medieval English churches before they were whitewashed. The video will also be featured on the twitter, facebook and google+ aspects of The Textile Blog as well as being part of the video resource.



Further reading links:

 

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Stained Glass Window by Arthur Hughes

Illustration: Arthur Hughes. The Birth of Tristram stained glass panel, 1862.

Arthur Hughes is best known as an English painter in the Pre-Raphaelite style. He was associated with and knew most of the members of the movement and his work can be said to have certain similarities although Hughes specialised in a form of forlorn loss, with many of his narratives dealing with pathos contained within a selection of ideals, many to do with and the loss of youth, life and innocence. It is perhaps pure coincidence or a form of fortuitous foresight, or even specific planning that Hughes was given The Birth of Tristram as a subject in the cycle of stained glass panels produced by William Morris' company in 1862.

Hughes was part of group of artists and designers, including Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Valentine Cameron Prinsep, Edward Burne-Jones, Ford Madox Brown and William Morris himself, who produced a series of thirteen stained glass panels reflecting the Tristram and Isoude romance.
Hughes represented the scene of the birth of Tristram in a narrative that was full of his particular style of pathos. Tristram's mother lies dying after having just given birth to her son. He will never know her and she will never know him. The bond between mother and child has been severed by the fate and natural progression of the story. That Hughes shows this in a dignified yet still full and typically romantic mood, says much about his interests as an artist as well as the reflection of the period.

This was a period in Britain where medievalism was considered by many to be the main architectural, decorative and design style. It has become indelibly linked with the early to mid-Victorian era and will probably remain so. Although medievalism meant many things to many people, the main underlying factor seemed to be that involved with change. The nineteenth century was the first to deal with large scale restructuring of most facets of human life, many of which had not changed for generations. The industrial revolution in Britain which had emerged in the eighteenth century, had gathered such pace by the mid-nineteenth century that the country and its people were becoming so radically altered that, in many respects, it was losing connections with its past and entering a new age of steam, industrial manufacturing and increasingly mobile populations. 

In some ways, the increasingly reflective identity of a medieval past was a means of retaining a connection with the cultural past of a people. The art and design world were enthusiastic proponents of a simpler and more idyllic period in Britain's past, one that had no connection to steam or industry. Interestingly, it was also a philosophy that portrayed the working man as happy but contained. The worker in medieval Britain as portrayed by at least some of the Victorian medievalists was one that knew his place in society and it was not one where he was free to move across social barriers. The hierarchy was strict, formal and set in stone. That concern for changes in the traditions of Britain were not limited to the industrial, but also entailed the fear of social movement and what that would mean for those already established in the hierarchy of the British class system, must also be seen as a factor that was reflected in the Victorian love affair with the medieval.

Many of the stained glass panels produced in 1862 were not particularly medieval in style, and were probably never meant to be. They were a reflection of the concerns and romantic illusions of a period in decorative and art history that was caught in a maelstrom of industrial, political, religious and social change, one that was so fundamental that it was to change the way Britain functioned from top to bottom. That many sought a calming and comforting factor, no matter how illusory, through the stormy seas of reform is perhaps understandable and should be seen in context with the period.

This is the last artist to be featured on The Textile Blog concerning the Tristram and Isoude stained glass series produced by Morris in 1862. Anyone interested in reading all of the articles connected to this collection can follow the links below; each artist involved has a corresponding article.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Valentine Cameron Prinsep
Edward Burne-Jones
Ford Madox Brown
William Morris

Further reading links: