Stained Glass of Percy Bacon & Brothers

Percy Bacon Brothers

Transcript of Lecture given by Herbert Bacon to the Northern Architectural Association 17th January 1894

The following transcript of the talk given by Herbert Bacon of the firm Percy Bacon Brothers was given to the Northern Architectural Association in Newcastle-upon-Tyne on 16th January 1894, and was reported verbatim in the Newcastle Daily Chronicle the following day.¹ The paper was reported as having been illustrated by numerous drawings and specimens of stained glass, and that it was of great interest to the members who at its close gave a very cordial vote of thanks to Mr Bacon. It is likely the same talk was given in November of that year to the Manchester Society of Architects.² That latter talk was reported in the Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser on the 8th November 1894, which highlighted the criticism Herbert heaped upon some of his competitors whom he believed were sacrificing art for commercialism. He also had a little dig at the Arts and Crafts Schools, presumably alluding to Morris & Co., Edward Burne-Jones, Henry Holiday et al. This, of course, might have been wanton salesmanship on his part, expounding the virtues of his own firm's artistry over the others' egregious errors (whether in the art or by commodifying the art form), something he termed rather dismissively the, "So-much-a-foot" School".

Although Herbert delivered the paper, there is little doubt that Percy had written it. In many ways, this talk is a window into the mind of a man whose opinions are somewhat opaque, and sadly, as far as I can ascertain, mostly unrecorded. From this paper, one might deduce that Percy's mission was to bring harmony into the art form in a way he thought most acceptable, while at the same time creating works which stood by their own artistic merit, not by their size or complexity. In arguing against pricing stained glass by the square foot, he was advocating the very noble aim of advancing quality, whether a high price could be afforded, or funds were limited. At the same time the artwork had to speak to the viewer, i.e. tell a story, and allow light into the church. This talk was clearly a sales pitch, and one pitched at architects who were implored to work alongside the glass painters. After all it was often architects who employed glass companies to fill their new churches with coloured light.

The Paper Transcript.

The question may be asked: Does an architect in designing the stonework of a window think of the future glass to decorate his shape, the shape to decorate his glass or does he ignore the glass altogether and make something which fulfils his idea of the requirements of a window in that particular spot? I take it that a window being considered necessary, it is designed as an ornament to the fabric, complete in itself, and quite regardless of any possible stained glass which may come later. If this is so, it follows that the painted glass, when inserted, should assist the lines of the stonework, and without laying undue stress on any part, should decorate the whole. Therefore any design for glass which ignores the existing masonry is put out of court for non-fulfilment of this primary condition. There is a window in one of Mr Johnson’s churches just out of this town-a large window with elaborate and beautiful tracery, which breaks this first rule in a particularly unfortunate manner. The whole of the mullions are treated as non-existent. There is a group of figures in a landscape, with sky and trees ascending from the lights, through the tracery, to the very point. Thus a noble architectural feature is spoiled by the glass painter, who sinned on account of ignorance of a fundamental law in the art he professed. For the rest, it is very well drawn and painted, and not badly conceived, but all these virtues are quite useless to redeem it. Other windows in the Cathedral at Cologne err in this respect most culpably. For all the glass painter has care, the most beautiful stonework might have been a plaster or cardboard screen placed in front of his picture. Where it is absolutely necessary to picture one event in more than one light the difficulty can be got over as in the east window of St Cuthbert’s, Blyth. The subject there chosen was the crucifixion; it is a five-light window, in the centre of which our Lord was represented on the cross alone; immediately to left and right are single figures of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Mary Magdalene, and in the two outside lights St. John and the centurion. This has all the teaching of the pictorial scene, without being in the least a picture. Where clients insist upon a canopied subject running through the whole, nothing can make it quite right, but by breaking the picture into groups, each group being complete in its own light, none of the figures being cut by the mullions, the fault is somewhat mitigated. An example of this is the east window of Mary Tavy.

This fault of pictorial representation is common to two schools – the modern Arts and Crafts Schools, who do know better, and, when sobered down a little by age, will do better; and the Commercial – the "so-much-a-foot school". People of this latter stamp are engaged in the manufacture (the word is used advisedly) of stained glass, not because they are artists and must express themselves, but for exactly the same reason that other people keep shop; viz; to buy goods and labour at one price and sell the same at an enhanced price, pocketing the difference as a profit. I quote from a catalogue of one of these people: - “Single figures, 25s. per square foot; groups and scenes, 35s. per square foot; Calvary group and angels, 50s. per square foot.” All this is very degrading. How can good work be expected under such absurd conditions. Imagine a client asking an architect, as a preliminary to putting up a church to be covered with statuary and carving as to how much a cubic foot it would cost! A clergyman, who was also an author, called at our studio a short time since and asked, “How much a foot is your glass?” By way of reply, he was asked at how much per hundredweight he valued his writings! He at once saw the point and explained, in apologising, that he had always heard stained glass so valued. This was most probably true, and architects are the people most to blame for it – firstly in commissioning people who so treat it, and afterwards adopting their phraseology, which is invariably picked up and acted upon by the unlearned.

Another rule for the painter is that the window must answer its purpose of admitting light. This fact had quite been forgotten until a few years since, and some architects of eminence had begun to discuss the advisability of dispensing with stained glass altogether, as churches became so dark. The old idea seemed to put as much colour in as possible. Of course, this was quite wrong. If the commercial firms into whose hands the execution of stained glass had fallen had been artists, or even students, they could have seen in all the old glass at York, Fairford, Oxford and other places that certainly a very large proportion (perhaps two-thirds) of the glass was white. New men, therefore, reverse this system of their immediate predecessors, and make their works of white glass mixed with some pieces of colour, instead of coloured glass with a few pieces of white where absolutely necessary. Having now formulated these two immutable laws we arrive at a more debatable matter which may be summed up in a few questions. Should the picture in glass have a teaching character? Should they be simple figures or subjects, i.e. incidents? And what proportions should the subject bear to the rest?

When living in London, I attended every Sunday morning, for the space of a year, a church in Kensington. In that church there is an east window which certainly fulfils my postulations as to the giving of light, and decorating and enforcing the architectural framework. It consists of many subjects, divided by ornamental grisaille. I have no more idea what that window is about than I had on the first day I saw it. Certainly the chancel is a deep, and I have never been close to it. The whole effect is beautiful, colour cleverly distributed, but it is dumb - a mystery. There is something to be said for this method. I am aware, as a window should hardly give up its story at a glance as from that moment interest must largely decrease, but at a reasonable distance it must be intelligible as least to an interested onlooker. On the whole, small subjects should not be used in a window unless placed down near the point of sight, otherwise an equally good effect can be gained merely leading together pieces of colour glass in certain proportions – in a word, by making a kaleidoscope. Without wishing to be dogmatic I individually prefer subjects with a story, when close to the eye, as in the window of the north choir aisle at your Cathedral, or single figures when higher placed, as in the east window at Wallsend³ and in St Hilda’s, Sunderland. A figure of a martyr or other saint, with his proper emblems, is surely quite as capable of teaching the piously disposed spectator patience under suffering and the happy issue from all afflictions as would a picture of the actual scene. As to the proportion of ornament and figure, there must necessarily be some personal preference. The figures in subject work must of course be small on the account of the exigencies of space, as each subject should be complete in one light, but with regard to a single figure, the matter must be approached from another point of view. When receiving some instructions recently from Sir Arthur Blomfield he insisted strongly upon some figures we were to design for an ordinary parish church being kept down to 3 feet to 3 feet 6 inches high for the reason that the human figure is the natural scale by which people unconsciously measure a building. The larger the figure, the smaller will the structure appear, and vice versa. This commends itself as sound common sense, and had been adopted by us as a good general rule for some time. Again as most of the colour in a window is concentrated upon the figure, it is desirable for that reason also that they should not be large. This rule must be taken as liable to much qualification by the height, size and style of the building.

There are many suitable ways of filling up the space between the figure or point of interest and the mullions. My own preference points towards perpendicular canopy work, even in earlier shapes, for as men in the fifteenth century had arrived at the very same zenith of perfection in the art of glass-painting, and as their forms were exceedingly graceful, and as they continually did the same thing, we cannot be far wrong in following them, and as this style, freely treated, gives, by means of little bulbous shapes like pearls, opportunities of admitting light and sparkle, every artist is glad to avail himself of such advantages. On the other hand, an architect of eminence in Manchester, a short time since, seriously urged us against using this style of canopy; he thinks it inadmissible because perspective is introduced, and that must be wrong from some point of view to the spectator, and if once allowed nothing could logically prevent us dropping into all the vagaries of the Louis XIV. period. This seems a staggering position to take up, for the human figure itself must be drawn in perspective, in face and limb, and must therefore be equally wrong. The whole thing is then reduced to mere ornamentation in the flat. Another way, especially where cost must be low, is to place the figure portion on quarries, and if well treated this is a very pleasant style – quite in the manner of antique glass. Many examples of this can be seen at York and elsewhere. If canopies be adopted, they should err on the side of height, for optical reasons, among others, for the higher objects are above the line of sight the shorter they appear, this illusion should always be borne in mind. Again, where the window is low down, and still more so when it is impossible to view the work except at close quarters, the interest must be kept low down, the canopy work above forming a sufficient filling. In our window at the Cathedral⁴ all these points are well illustrated, plenty of canopy work at top for the admission of light with the addition of very wide shafts, which answer the same end. These shaftings were suggested by a print of an old brass hanging in the office of a Newcastle architect, and certainly give a great deal of character to the work. This shows the advantages of surrounding ourselves with good examples which are sure to have some effect upon the art of our own times, even if not required by ourselves. I might mention in this connection, that a wide shafting gives opportunity for the introduction of subsidiary figures, thereby adding greatly to the interest and illustrating the doctrine of the communion of saints.

Something must be said as to the style of the figure proportion, and here I cannot speak as the voice of my brothers, but as an individual. Some point some of disagreement must of necessity become apparent between three persons engaged in the same profession as to the suitability of means and even objects. There are, briefly, two sides: The Ancient and the modern. The Ancients depended for effect upon brilliancy, upon the colour itself, upon the balance of colour and upon their peculiar system of painting. The Modern or Arts and Crafts School, depends upon form and grace of lines and does not concern itself so much with brilliancy, which can only be obtained by obscuring some portions for the benefit of others but content itself with the great variety of colour practically free from paint. The Ancients, to gain their ends, kept their draperies very broad and square, with many sharp angles for the admission of light, and laboured up their ornament by diapers and other means, rendering partially opaque the portions treated and throwing into great contrast the remainder. Perhaps to go still further, it may be said that many of their figures were designed for the mere purpose of carrying ornament, and in view of the very narrow limits of the medium, it is possible that this may be its end and object. They also, and this is very important, painted their work in a particular manner, drawing in light on dark, not dark lines on light glass. This seems the most advantageous method of painting, and certainly with the glorious work of the 15th century artists before us it should and does receive that respectful attention it deserves, at least in these, our times, whatever has been the case in the immediate past. But the new school is not to be dismissed in a word, it also endeavours to understand the technique and to work in accordance therewith. It says, in effect, leads are a necessity, therefore use them, use plenty of them, draw with them. Not only is the figure outlined in them as in the ancient method, but all the drawings – at least the leading lines – are leaded too; colour becomes very secondary, so much so, that in a case recently brought to my notice, no paint, except for the face and hands, and no colour whatever, were used for a window where money was scarce. The effect was as a sketch in black and white, original and very daring, but though not in sympathy with it, no canon of art is known to me which condemns it. In another case of a window at Torquay, some angels’ wings were wonderfully manipulated – the drawing of each feather being in lead, filled with a separate tint of colour, and almost entirely without point, the whole window, which is very large, was gorgeous and wonderful. For the type of features in human faces they are pleased to adopt, with pouting lips, protruding chins, long necks, each with a wen-like protuberance, I am unable to say anything in praise – perhaps for want of initiation into such mysterious beauties. In any case, the art of our century has reason to be thankful for a set of men who, on the data before them, think for themselves, and with a definite aim strike out a distinct line. So different from the creatures who call themselves artists, who are content with things as they find them, and turn out works at so much a foot. Still in fact that almost all the old glass worth looking at was painted from the late fourteenth to early fifteenth centuries, naturally lead them to inflict our experiments after a new style upon a much suffering public. There are many sources of information and inspiration for English students of this period – the National Gallery, Room No. 11 as a commencement, and the man who never goes further will not take much harm. All possible help is given by the authorities. Again, the Arundel Society has some priceless treasures, and the secretary is courtesy itself: and yet again, the missals Book of Hours, and manuscripts which lie open to everyone at the British Museum. The etchings of Albrecht Durer, Martin Schongauer, and Bergmeier, are accessible to all, and in their boldness, firm line, and originality of treatment are unrivalled as masters for the modern English glass painter. I say English, for there is a sturdiness and attention to detail which seems synonymous with the English character contrasting strongly with the flabbiness of some schools. In drawing the figure, they should be made rather large for the niche they are to occupy, as backgrounds in large masses look dreadfully bald and uninteresting. If the figure breaks over the lines of the shafting so much the better, as they are apt to become somewhat straggling, especially if narrow. This can be well done by carrying parts of the drapery, croziers, and other emblems, outside the actual niche, and closing approaching the stonework.

All large masses of colour, whether figure or background, should be broken by white or yellow as much as possible, care being taken to keep down the size of the white. White has a tendency to spread. This may, perhaps, account for the abnormally large heads, hands, and feet, which spoil the effect of the otherwise beautiful work of some well-known men. It is important for another reason to keep the head, etc. rather small, as the face scales the figure in the same way as the figure scales the building, and if the face is large, the figure must look somewhat squat. It is not surely necessary for the artists to follow all the quaintness and grotesquery of his chosen period. It should be enough to catch the motif and work on the same lines, putting all his heart into his work and drawings to the utmost of his ability. A clever young London architect thinks a knowledge of anatomy, or even good drawings, need not be displayed in glass – why, I am unable to guess, and venture to think him mistaken. Backgrounds are also important, not only as accessories, but of themselves, plain colours, varied in quality, richly diapered, and broken by the insertion of points of light have been the making of many a poor window. On the contrary, efforts at aerial perspective in landscape etc. are generally unsatisfactory to the last degree, but it has been done well, notably in renaissance glass at Lichfield. I fear that tracery is rather undervalued, and deserves more consideration than is generally given to it. Upon this part of the stonework, the architect is put upon his mettle, for the value of his work in an artistic sense can usually be estimated by it. We are inclined to make the subject portion the be all and end all of the work – clearly to the depreciation of the architect’s efforts. All ornament which is mere tradesman’s gag such as lambs, A’s and O’s, doves, triangles, and all that sort of thing are only to be named to be condemned. Where the openings are suitable, something should be done by means of small figures to emphasise, by type or ante-type, the treatment below. If I may be allowed to refer again to our window at the Cathedral, it may be observed that the central opening at the top is filled by an angel with a trumpet. To any Bible-reading man this strikes the key note of a window devoted to the prophesies of God’s judgements. Something can be done in most windows on similar lines. In small spaces, ornamental forms, with perhaps only grace of colour and line to recommend them, should be sufficient; but dark colour should very rarely be brought in proximity with the stonework, as this has the effect of apparently altering or otherwise obscuring the outline.

A few words on some points of technique may not be amiss. Yellow pot-metal glass should be avoided. It is too hot and strong, and does not possess sufficient variety. White glass can be stained with nitrate of silver in varying degrees, ranging from the palest lemon to strong burnt sienna red, and is far more transparent than pot-metal. Another not unimportant point is that the whole should have some thin tome of paint over it, especially flesh. Glare is avoided thus, and some of the effect of age is gained, whilst wire guards are not as conspicuous. These last are a very irritating but generally necessary nuisance. A small matter in which the artist is helpless, and the architect in fault, is the use of upright stanchion bars – these in the centre of a light means absolute ruin to a single figure. If necessary at all, they should be placed nearer the sides, two in each light. Round bars, too, might be invariably adopted instead of square, as obscuring less of the work. If they are not so strong as the square, a point upon which I know nothing, give us more of them to obtain the necessary stability. No artist worthy of the name objects to bars in the plenty; they are part of the ordinary limitation of his medium, and should be used as part of the scheme. One other little point of interest. Glass which is smooth is practically discarded, and only glass full of bubbles, inequalities, and “seed” is admitted. The difference in depth and brilliance is wonderful. With all our drawbacks, negligence, mistakes, and wilful errors there is still much to be thankful for. A comparison of our art with that of 50 or even 20 years ago tells up of a wonderful advance all round, much of this advance, I am convinced, being due to the discontent of good architects with their then artists and the encouragement of new and untried men who appeared to be in earnest. Unfortunately, the earlier revivalists were very prolific, and the country teems with examples of their efforts – many of them very painful. But these should only urge us forward to second still more earnestly architects with ideas. In the past decorative artists have worked largely in independence of the designer of the structure – often in direct opposition. This is being gradually altered, as architects are awakening to their responsibility, and give us works of art in all directions of which our generation should be proud, and which would not have shamed some of the workers in bygone time. This is well, but it might be better. Our appliances are more perfect, such as diamonds for cutting instead of hot iron, fluoric acid for diapering instead of laborious grinding, a palette of many more tints and even colours. With these advantages there is no reason why excellence should not lead on to perfection, and though we cannot live to see the effect of age on our work, we may doubtless suppose it will as equally improve ours as our ancestors’. If church builders remain true to themselves, and insist upon the maintenance of high ideals, glass painters will only be too glad to enter into their spirit. With such a combination, and may hope ere long to have a series of works which shall go down and live through the centuries – architect and painter being named together as we now name Sir Christopher Wren and Grinling Gibbons.

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1. Lecture given by Herbert Bacon to the Northern Architectural Association in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 17th January 1894, on the subject, "Stained Glass in Relation to Architecture" reported verbatim in the Newcastle Daily Chronicle 18 Jan 1894 (Source: British Library News Archive).
2. Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser; 08 November 1894 (Source: British Library News Archive)
3. Unfortunately, Bacon does not give any details of that window, but William Richardson in his work “The History of the Parish of Wallsend”, records two east windows in St Peter’s, one of 1874, supplied by G. J. Baguley of Newcastle which was removed during the considerable alterations to the church in 1892. During the alterations the east window was replaced with glass by a Mr John Potts (though he may not be the artist but the donor – Richardson is silent on the matter), the subject being Christ the Good Shepherd. The current window, by Wilelmina Geddes was installed in 1922.
4. The only window, which Percy Bacon & Brothers had installed in St Nicholas Cathedral, Newcastle-upon-Tyne at the time of the delivery of this lecture, is in the North Choir, and depicts scenes in the life of Christ. Flickr.
5. See also report in Newcastle Journal - Thursday 18 January 1894 p6.