Into The New Forest

Instructions for parking at St John the Baptist Boldre and Beaulieu Abbey Church.

There were odd signs about in New Forest church car parks (above). Beaulieu Abbey church was shut, but St John the Baptist, Boldre was open and in its windows there is a great variety of good twentieth century glass including a beautiful nativity window by Derek Wilson (below). The detail shows the light sketchy paintwork that makes this window appear soft and airy with a 1950s feel.

Boldre, nativity window by Derek Wilson, 1951 and detail.

Boldre, east window by Alan Younger, 1967 and detail.

Interesting as a contrast to Derek Wilson’s window, is the East window by Alan Younger on the theme of Christ in Majesty (above). Here the figure is surrounded by blocks of rich colour and heavy bands of black paint that make the window effective from a distance and also close up. His smaller and later window (below) is similarly angular, with spikes going both ways and some gorgeous coloured organic shapes in the middle. The theme of this window is God The Creator - ‘Overall is a vertical and horizontal structure to suggest order being established and light emerging from darkness ….. at the centre is a rich burst of warm colours suggesting flowering and harvest’ - a quote from the standard, bland blurb on the explanatory plaque that invariably appears near a non figurative window.

Boldre, south west window by Alan Younger, 1980 and detail.

Boldre, Two of three badge windows in North Aisle by Francis Skeat, 1956.

To complement these are a series of nicely balanced badge windows by Francis Skeat (above) with lovely textured clear glass backgrounds and the delicate colours I’ve noticed in his work elsewhere. The most recent window is a classic Millenium one (below) by the glass engraver Tracey Sheppard next to the south porch. Here you have the usual mix of local wildlife and scenery that shows up a lot better against the dark interior from the outside than it does against the pale sky.

Boldre, south aisle window by Tracey Sheppard, 2000 from outside and inside.

All Saints Dibden: east window by Derek Wilson, 1957 from the outside.

We drove off to All Saints, Dibden, excited at the prospect of seeing three more windows by Derek Wilson. The church was locked but even from the outside you could see his fluid painting style in a view of the church tower and in a bold looking east window (above).

I found my third and favourite entry for the ‘churches in churches’ category in the nearby church of St John, Marchwood. The model (below) gives you a good idea of the lofty, austere building that is full of slightly dingy but attractive colours, like the floor detail (below centre) and the spooky stained glass figures in tall gothic windows by Baillie.

St John, Marchwood with stained glass by Baillie, 1863.

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.

Along the River Windrush

St Nicholas, Asthall. Tomb of Lady Joan Cornwall with medieval glass above, window in the painted chancel.

We took a route along the river Windrush in Oxfordshire starting at the village of Asthall, then to Swinbrook, past the deserted medieval village of Widford into Burford and back. There are four superb churches within these three miles. St Nicholas, Asthall (above and below) was unexpectedly spectacular, with painted walls, a huge tomb and some subtle stained glass windows that compliment the interior where nothing is out of place.

St Nicholas, Asthall. Chancel and detail of the east window.

We were really here because Asthall Manor was the favourite childhood home of the Mitfords and most of them are buried at the next church along the river, St Mary, Swinbrook. In her letters Jessica writes about walking across the fields to Burford to try and get the school there to take her on, so I knew it couldn’t be far. Nancy and Jessica were the only ones of the six sisters to complain about their lack of schooling, unfortunately we were not able to pay our respects to Jessica as she chose to be scattered at sea but Nancy is here along with Pamela, Unity, Diana and other Mosleys (below left).

Left: Mitford graves at St Mary, Swinbrook. Right: Frozen flooded fields beside the river Windrush.

St Mary, Swinbrook. The Fettiplace monuments in the chancel.

Inside the church are two sets of monuments (above) which put those poor little gravestones in the shade. The first set was ordered by Sir Edmund Fettiplace who died in 1613 for himself, his father and his grandfather: Sir Edmund Fettiplace II (who died in 1680) ordered the second set for himself, his uncle and his father. Again there is nothing ugly or unconsidered in this church, even the bibles are stylishly arranged on the chairs (below left). Next to them is a window made from fragments of ‘old glass’ that tell an interesting story - not least of the vicar who inexpertly arranged this glass with the text split by the stone mullion making it hard to follow.

St Mary, Swinbrook: window with an interesting story.

Interior details from St Oswald, Widford.

Next to St Oswald, a tiny church in the fields a bit further along the river that was built on the base of a Roman house or temple. Here there are plain windows, more of those simple chairs, pink plastered walls and the remnants of fourteenth century wall paintings, including a St Christopher opposite the south entrance door (above left).

St John the Baptist, Burford, south window of south transept by Christopher Whall, 1907.

After these three beautiful interiors, entering the much larger church in Burford with its inevitable clutter of merchandise, furniture and audio visual equipment is a bit of a shock. However the Christopher Whall window in the south transept is one of his masterpieces, I kept going back for another look as I caught glimpses of it from different angles that showed how subtle both the colours of the glass and the arrangement of the design are, even with a bright winter sun shining through. I am always keen on paintings of the heavenly city, shown in the top section here and providing an interesting comparison to the city depicted in the earlier east window at Asthall. The bits of restrained patterning that link the top and bottom sections of the window are particularly satisfying (below left), as is the pair of little quatrefoil windows that just contain non symmetrical arrangements of beams of light behind the buildings which Whall drew from places he knew and loved.

Details from the Chrustopher Whall window in Burford.

Christmas Cards - Year 8

Our cards - above 2022 & 2021. Below 2020, 2015 and 2018.

As we got fewer cards than usual this year and also because I have become rather critical of the ones we do get, I thought it was about time to add the ones that we send out to my annual Christmas card survey. These five are the ones I could find copies of, as you can see we are trying to do something about the scarcity of stained glass and nativity scenes that I’ve noticed over the years.

You may also notice than none of them is square. Like last year, over 50% of the cards we got were square while only 15% were landscape format. 46% had an animal or bird as part of the imagery, 10% had a religious scene and 10% had presents or Father Christmas. 37% were homemade (or designed by the person who sent it) which is a pretty steady statistic. The unwelcome trend that I noticed last year, i.e. writing on the front of the card, is the same as last year at 30%.

Here are four of the best from this year. Above left, the best shop bought one (from the V&A) and above right, the best photograph. Below are my two personal favourites mainly because they are both really well made which is hard to keep up when you’re making lots of cards. Most of the ones in the homemade category are, like ours, printed on a home printer.

Finally, a special mention for the Chrismas hares!

Drawing branches

Design for back door window panels, 3 versions, 2022.

The design for my latest commission, glass panels in a back door, was going well but there were large spaces in the middle of it that needed filling. In the end, I went with a motif I use a lot and that is based on tree branches (above). These days I don’t feel the need to go to the forest and draw the shape of the branches, instead I make them go in whatever direction is best for the design.

Illustrations by Jan Pienkowski for The Kingdom Under The Sea by Joan Aitken, 1971

Ray reminded me that we have been having the same discussion about how best to draw branches since we were students in the early 1980s. It’s one thing to go out drawing in the summer when leaves add more detail while also simplifying the shape of the whole tree, but quite another thing in winter when the shape of the branches are defined against the sky or the landscape. We came to the conclusion then that the Jan Pienkowski route, where branches are silhouettes, was a good way to go. These illustrations (some examples above) were favourites from our childhoods, and looking at them now I consider him to be an artistic influence.

I said Tell me the Truth, drawing by Ray Ward (left) stained glass by me (right) 2020.

Take this Ray Ward drawing (above) where the trees were from a memory of a scene in Cornwall. When I came to do the stained glass version I didn’t want to change a twig, so I painted the branches on a piece of purple streaky glass placed on top of a photocopy of the original drawing.

The Prophecy of Anguish, painting by Ray Ward, 2021.

Ray’s black and white egg tempera painting on gesso (above) has a design for bare branches that I find even more impressive. The curviness of the ancient tree with its feeble looking branches is offset by a web of sharp twig lines behind and a pattern of vertical lines over the trunk in the foreground.

The State Hospital, Carstairs, detail of glass screen and design, 2011.

Looking for examples of branch techniques in my own work led me to a screen I made for the top security State Hospital in Carstairs, Scotland (above). In this design the pine branches cross bands of vertical lines that descend at a 90° angle from the pitch of the roof as if they are part of a woven cloth, where small twigs alternate with patterns of squares in the white cloudy sections.

Premier Inn, Liverpool, detail of corner window and design, 2012.

Sometimes when the work is for a public commission, the subject matter needs to be optimistic and a few leaves are required to indicate that spring is on its way. Leaves don’t suit my style as much as branches do, but I found an example of cherry tree branches from a large corner window I designed for the Premier Inn on Hanover Street, Liverpool - an area once full of market gardens and ornamental trees but now much in need of any type of greenery.