A Dying Art
Photography and video by James Loveday
Words by Rachel Mulligan
Younger Years
I was lucky to grow up in the leafy borough of Richmond, Surrey, with a large family. My parents had four children, and both of them remarried, so I ended up with six brothers and a sister. Growing up, I wanted to make things and be creative. Most of the adults I knew were teachers and I didn’t want that! Although I have now embraced teaching, as I love sharing my skills with students.
As a child, I used to love making things I'd seen on Blue Peter, so much so that I wanted to be a presenter on the programme. We had the advent candle holder made out of coat hangers and tinsel that anyone of a certain age would remember. I had some craft books too and I'm sure my family were fed up with receiving homemade presents from me.
After my O'levels (I was disappointed to only get a C for Art), I went to the local sixth form college and did a full-time diploma in art. I then went on to do a Foundation in Art, too. A few tutors told me I should do illustration, but I ignored that advice and chose Fine Art. I have just written and illustrated a book on stained glass, so perhaps they had a point.
I was lucky to have been educated before university tuition fees came in and when art education was well-resourced. I started off by studying fine art at Coventry and rented my first studio in Kew when I graduated. I was a printmaker until I discovered stained glass at Richmond Adult College. I went on to study it at Central St Martins and did an M.A. in Public Art at Chelsea School of Art. If I could go back and tell my younger self anything, it would be to spend less time in the pub, not that I regret it, I mean, you do need to have fun in life. But I would tell myself to spend more time in classes like life drawing.
Work
Life and work are the same to me. Of course, there are some parts I enjoy more than others—I relish working in the studio with the radio on. While cleaning the house and doing my accounts, scores fairly low. But it all needs doing, so I just get on with it.
Over the years, I’ve learned that finding your artistic voice is easy if you follow what you love. However, once you find that voice, you still have to work, and starting new projects can always be challenging. I have to make mental and physical space for it by tidying up the studio and minimising distractions. Once I am going through it, it is hard to stop, and I get the most reward from seeing a piece in its final setting.
A complex stained-glass window can take six months or more to complete. The design and drawing are the most challenging parts of the process, and I have to bring together various ideas to tell a visual story that will complement the architectural setting. I find choosing the colours from the wide range of mouth-blown glass on my racks the most exciting part (I just love coloured glass). Then comes the bulk of the work in cutting the glass, engraving, painting and firing each piece (often several times) until it is ready to lead. However, at this stage, I am working from the drawings, so it is more of a crafting skill.
Installation is the most nerve-racking time – delivering the panels to the site, finding out how well they fit and seeing the client’s reaction are all stressful. There is huge relief and satisfaction when it all goes smoothly and everyone is happy with the result.
I trust my creativity and follow my inspiration. I learn from each piece of art that I make and so I continue to improve. I have never questioned the path I am on as I have a personal mission to share my love of stained glass to help ensure its survival.
I was thrilled when Godalming Museum bought my ‘Labours of the Months’ series. It was my first figurative work telling the story of a year on the allotment that I shared with friends. When I look at it now, I can see how much I have improved over the last fourteen years. It is also great to see a moment in time when the kids were little and loved gardening.
Teaching
Teaching gives me instant gratification. While a window takes months to complete for me, my students are able to take home a framed panel that they made that very same day. Many get the bug and continue to express their creativity in stained glass. This is extremely important because the practice of stained glass is becoming less and less. I am doing my bit to share my skills with students who come to my workshop in hopes that some will continue to keep this practice alive and relevant.
Traditional stained glass window making was included in the Red List of Endangered Crafts for the first time in 2023. Heritage Crafts recognised the threats caused by the loss of education opportunities, difficulty in sourcing raw materials and the ageing practitioners. I suppose I fall into that category now.
Inspiration
My extensive family were my first customers and they continue to be a source of inspiration that I draw on both creatively and as role models for life’s challenges and fun. Every time I saw her, my grandmother’s last words to me were, ‘Enjoy every day, my darling!’ and I try to pass that message on to my own two youngsters who are starting to find their own way in the world.
I love my studio! It is my sanctuary and a space where I can leave work out and pick it up quickly again. But I am lucky to be able to work anywhere. I often design on the train, at the kitchen table or when visiting my mum's home in Devon. It is about clearing a mental space to create. If I take a nap in the afternoon I visualise the next step of a project and when I wake up it is easier to achieve.
All the glass I use is mouth-blown. Most of it comes from Germany. I am a glass snob and I encourage my students to be too. Unfortunately, it is much more expensive, but I believe that if you are putting all the effort into designing and making a window you may as well use the best ingredients as the largest cost by far is the labour.