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.

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.