Deconstructed Windows: My love/hate relationship with Stained Glass
What got me thinking:
This photo is a sneak peek at a large wall art piece- wood/carving/painting- I have been working on.
I have a thing for re-imagining things - throwing some parts away - but not all.
Stained glass windows are one of those things.
A few shards of history:
Stained glass has been around since long before the Christian era. Some of the earliest evidence is in the homes of rich Romans.
The artform reached a peak during the middle ages. The craft of melting sand and ashes, painting and fusing, leading and framing became a popular way to illustrate the stories of scripture for a largely illiterate population.
Every century since has experienced renewal, new artists, and new techniques.
Just a few examples of the spectacular: Sainte-Chapelle, Nasir_ol_Molk_Mosque, New_Synagogue_(Darmstadt)
The church I attended in my childhood had no stained glass.
Every church I worked in during my career had tons of stained glass.
My love/hate issue with stained glass.
I love the colors of the glass in love with the sun. I love that the history of artform included stories of the life of Christ.
I hate that the stories depicted so many fair, pinky-skinned white people.
I loved how the children in a day school program loved the colors of the windows during morning chapel.
Once we had a program at night, the windows were visable but not back-lit. A little boy pulled me aside to express his glee that the now dark-skinned Jesus looked more like him.
I love more abstract stained glass now instead of attempts at realistic depictions of Gospel stories. Our lives are messier. Our mission sometimes is less clear and yet, the sun and the colors still dance on the faces of the faithful and the uncertain.
I love how a woman I hadn’t seen since she moved out of the area stopped by where I was working one day. I hated that she responded to my invitation to sit and chat a bit with, “Oh, dear, I didn’t come to see you. I came to admire my window.” Stained glass - no matter the artist, the era, the church - doesn’t make people any better, any kinder, any closer to Christ’s mission of love.
Why it matters:
The beauty of art continues to be in the eye of the beholder no matter what I think.
I continue to appreciate the truth of brokenness and the beauty of redemption and grace, the dance of light and dark, shards and hands that restore old stories and contemporary humans to a renewed form of wholeness.
I believe the Church today is going through an era of deconstruction. It is very uncomfortable for everyone.
I am hopeful that we are picking through the pieces and still finding new visions of hope for this eternal love affair of color and sun.
Peace be with you,
Deb