I find it interesting the perception a committee or single patron has of me as an artist when we first begin conceptualizing their project.
I sense considerable pressure to help them create something along the lines of the Mona Lisa or the Gardens of Monet, which would gain aesthetic appreciation and value over time. Of course, in the end, it comes down to discovering something that they like. Something that represents their beliefs and fulfills their responsibility to define them for generations to come.
Twenty-five years ago, when St. Peter Baptist Church in Glen Allen, Virginia, and I was brainstorming the stained glass windows for their new sanctuary, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. A clever idea is hard to come by; I play my cards close to my chest. Timing is everything.
Towards the end of our endeavor to finalize our concept, when most of us felt we had our overall concept in place, I presented my idea.
I think of an idea whose time has come, like a large white pearl rolling across the conference table. I watched each participant’s reactions as they absorbed the new concept, elevating our previous idea into something special that we had all been searching for from the beginning.
“I have often thought while sitting in a service that what would enrich the experience would be if I felt I was sitting in heaven.” It just so happened I had a 12″ x 14″ piece of iridized whispy white glass with me.
Suspending the medallions representing the articles of the Baptist Church in an ethereal setting has now stood the test of time. When I visited a month ago, several of the parishioners remarked on how much they loved their windows, especially their originality.
Art doesn’t always have to be earth-shattering. Moving it over a notch or two can give it new meaning, bridging the established with a new experience.