As a young art student, I had once been inside St. Chapelle in Paris on a stormy day. There, the outside noonday sun touching the windows kindled them to a blaze of reds. Colors projected onto the stone floor seemed to set it afire and reflected upward, warming the interior of the intimate chapel. In a moment, swiftly passing clouds quenched the sun and the windows transformed through purple into smoldering blues.
The air around me pulsed with rich color, like music, ascending and descending. Since then I have tried to recapture that animation of color and light in my work. I wanted to make three-dimensional constructions that suspend colored glass so as to appear to be free-floating. Screen Construction was the most successful means of doing this. The name, though clumsy, has stuck for lack of a better one.
There is no surface for stained glass color to flow onto. Like a picture puzzle, it must be constructed, each piece of colored glass cut to shape and fixed into a supporting matrix or armature.