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Gathering Light: International Contemporary Glass
of Christ the King
7th June - 28th August 2008
Reviewed by
“We hope to dispel any remaining notions
that stained glass is an art-form of a bygone age…The show highlights
artists who trained in traditional stained glass but who are now interpreting
this heritage using contemporary language. The work demonstrates the spectrum
of artistic possibilities of contemporary decorative glass.”
Chris Bird-Jones, Senior lecturer
at Swansea Metropolitan University, Exhibitor and organiser of Gathering
Light.
The Metropolitan Cathedral, completed forty years ago, contains a magnificent
collection of twentieth century stained glass including works by artists
John Piper, Ceri Richards and Margaret Traherne. The link between the
Gathering Light exhibition and the Metropolitan Cathedral is that four
of the exhibitors - Cedar Prest, Doreen Balabanoff, Linda Lichtman and
Helga Reay-Young - trained with Patrick Reyntiens, who realised John Piper’s
designs for the Lantern. Although this link is pleasing and holding a
glass exhibition in a place radiant with the stuff seems a good idea,
in reality the scale is all wrong and the painting-sized works are dwarfed
and swallowed. Such an exhibition deserves a discreet room away from the
large-scale distractions of this wondrous cathedral, away from the incongruous
presence of Sean Rice’s bronze statue of Abraham and the two rows
of cathedral windows in bright greens and yellows. This consideration
aside, the work is well worth focussing on if you can be single-pointed.
Harnessing light to colour and form, stained glass windows gave an additional
spiritual dimension to the didactic function of the traditional cathedral
and this luminosity of spiritual experience is examined by a number of
the artists. Greening the Labyrinth by Cedar Prest expresses ‘veriditas’
– a word used by the mystic Hildegard of Bingen to describe the
soul bursting into new life when united to God’s spirit. The circular
labyrinth in the glass is based on one placed on the floor of Chartres
Cathedral circa 1200, providing another traditional link. The piece expresses
well the burgeoning of spirituality, transcending the labyrinthine machinations
of temporal mind. Different in tone, though also having a spiritual aspect
is Doreen Balabanoff’s In the Early Morning Light. The image of
a tree, three times framed, echoing the concentric lines of age within,
is central to this meditation on longevity and impermanence. The artist’s
fondness for it and her knowledge that the tree is dying adds a poignancy
whose elegiac edge was increased by the fact that the light behind the
glass panel was out at the time of viewing. In contrast Galon Lan [Pure
Heart] by Catrin Jones is gold-edged and flecked with joyful movement.
The title refers to a childhood hymn and the words acid-etched here have
been deliberately obscured to indicate a sense of knowing and not-knowing,
the artist being non-Welsh-speaking. Yet the not-knowing is transcended
by joyful as the musical notes dance above: rich and celebratory like
birds in ecclesiastical paintings. Drawn to the Light by Chris Bird-Jones
uses elemental shapes and materials and a basic abrasive technique with
float glass and mirror to address the notion of instinctual searching,
evoking those vast oceans of time and evolution of which we are the product.
The shapes in Mimi Gellman’s elegant two-toned work, The Soul Loves
to Swim go further into abstraction, into the depth of being and becoming
to the ‘transitional phenomena’ in the black ‘shadowland
where the deepest thoughts emerge.’
Some exhibits are concerned not so much with the inner landscape of spiritual
quest but with the individual artist’s interaction with the physical
landscape. On the Great Ocean Road by Amber Hiscott depicts remorseless
light on a primeval landscape experienced in Australia: ‘darkness
captured in an isthmus of copper shadows, isolated by the searching sun.’
A spatial sense is created by having the foreground copper, the middle
ground etched a misted copper, the top white and the thing textured by
squiggly lines through which shines the searching light. Liverpool Red
by Sigridur Asgeirsdottir takes us to a hidden ‘landscape otherwise
unknown to us.’ This work, referencing its relationship to its sea-faring
location in two ways, uses a red colour [inspired by Liverpool Football
Club] with white superimposed fragments, ‘inspired by maps of the
seabed that are created by the echo of ships on the sea that measure the
depth of the bottom.’ Sometimes the relationship between the artefact
and it origins is very basic, very direct. In her diptych Blue Skying
Mary Mackey has taken the shape [reminiscent of the primitive shelters
monks used to make] from a window in the oldest part of Cork and the material
from glass salvaged by a friend. The sandblasted and enamelled result
‘about dreams and imagination’ has a dynamic geological presence
brought to order by the central line.
Yoshi Yamauchi’s Memories of Australia is a strongly designed panel
in yellow and brown inspired by Aboriginal work. A piece also entitled
Memories of Australia by Marie-Pascale Foucault-Phipps uses colours and
cultural motifs as well as the means of expression from an Aboriginal
source in this vigorously executed work. The artist has painted with her
fingers and used twigs taken from the environment which is also present
in the lead greys, warm browns, the root and bark textures and the image
of the quiescent Dreamtime ‘snake’ – part abstract,
part decorative and part figurative - she has taken from local mythology.
A similarly direct sense of the texture of environment is to be found
in Chinks Vere Grylls’ Let There be Peace on Earth and let it Begin
with Me. Paradoxically unearthly, it seems to be either a landscape of
the inner world or an alien world of metallic reds and pinks – a
place of layering and erosion through which not much of the light can
penetrate. Yet it is there. Ellen Mandelbaum’s Outback Ancient Grasses,
a golden work full of elemental movement, inspires by its spontaneity,
its celebratory force, the artist’s hand imitating the movement
of the grasses. ‘Photo – now set in gold-coloured mica gilding
to honour the poetry of these ancient Australian trees and shadows. My
hand swirled around built the mica up near the edge of the image, set
up shiny metal-leaf near the lower left edge.’
Two pieces of glass work that are designed primarily to have a utilitarian
function are Pohutakawa by Holly Sanford and A Study in Paper by Helga
Reay-Young. The former is site-specific; its design, taken from the red
fluffy blooms of the indigenous tree, combines the opaque, the transparent
and the decorative to give privacy without sacrificing spaciousness. The
latter demonstrates how the lighted colours of overlapping papers used
with simple float glass can give decoration and privacy.
The only item in the exhibition overtly resembling the traditional notion
of stained glass work is Ginger Ferrell’s Window 21, a creation
of decorative formality, its colour choice and structure reminiscent of
art deco, its linear quality reinforced by the use of lead. Form exactly
matches the subject here: the overlapping squares referencing the structure
of the kimono and the kiln-formed dogwood leaves and stencilled background
giving a light and gracious decoration. Beauty contained and enhanced
by its containment. Another work notable for its formality is Random Flag
One by Christine Triebsch. This powerful and richly coloured piece in
bronze and red and black rendered more concrete by the apparent use of
rivets and regimented lighting has a political statement about the artifice
that is nationalism. At the other end of the spectrum we have Cornelia
Konig’s ‘I like your texts,’ a study about human communication
at a personal level. The ideas are skilfully expressed using the immediacy
of an actual text message and super-imposed images which create a pattern
one on the other, this decorative theme continued by leaves etched over
and unifying the whole.
Similarly unique to this exhibition is Sachiko Yamamoto’s Gold
Leaves which celebrates the reflective qualities of glass as a medium.
The composition is formal without being rigid, using beads of gold and
clear glass to create a mosaic ‘to define the beauty of the glass.’
The process has been interactive, involving others in the celebration
by using accessible techniques, special facilities and non-poisonous chemicals
so that clients and volunteers could safely contribute to the end product.
It is touching to think of the beads holding so many reflections.
The use of glass as a medium for art work invites contemplation on the
qualities it offers beyond traditional painted canvas, the most obvious
thing being its allegiance with light. It is interesting, therefore, that
some artists in this exhibition had experimented with inhibiting its influence
thus provoking aesthetic and psychological responses in the viewer based
on expectation. Another point of interest was the chance effect created
by the reflective surface when extraneous light hit it. In Ellen Mandelbaum’s
Outback Ancient Grasses, reflected purples and blues complemented the
gold, setting up an unintended resonance. Transparency offers possibilities
of layered effects and the illusion of space and depth as well as decoration.
It’s appropriate to end on a topical note. Linda Lichtman’s
A Liverpudlian Dream is about the artist’s relationship with the
city. With its enthusiastic use of bright colour in a structure based
on the segmented shape of a football it captures the life and passions
and humour of the city that Linda Lichtman first visited in 1974, thought
about for thirty-four years then revisited in 2008.
Comment left by chris bird-jones on 25th October, 2008 at 0:24 thank you for this review. Can the Sandra Gibson please contact me. Thanks Chris
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