I begin with the north rose window. My knowledge of digital photography only enables me to show either architecture or stained glass windows, but not both. This blog entry is about windows.
Adam reclines in the center of the rose, reclining as if in sleep, which recalls the story in Genesis in which God created woman (and hence all human descendants) from Adam. Symbolically, everything evolves from Adam--including kings and prophets.
Other windows closer to eye level reveal interesting details unavailable to the unaided eye when placed high above the worshiper or visitor. But when I try to see, let alone photograph clerestory windows from ground level, I am too often defeated. I keep thinking that some of these windows meant little to medieval adults needing--but lacking--glasses.
Being a musician (and back at ground level), I enjoy finding musicians at work, even if they are kings with harps.
Or angels with trumpets.
Some windows feature more abstract geometric patterns. This window's border is built on the symbol of France, the fleur-de-lis, a stylized lily shown over the royal blue.
Not all medieval-looking stained glass windows are from the middle ages. This one is dated 1980, but the style imitates some medieval work astonishingly well, in colour, variety of over-painting, and even in aging the glass.
Other modern windows are true to more contemporary styles, this one by the same artist in 1982.
The south rose window was obviously being restored (2013). Outside, it is covered with scaffolding, inside one sees only plain glass filling the stone filigree which will soon once again support the enormous stained glass panes.
Finally, I enjoyed experimenting with time exposures. Since I can hardly see the windows anyway, I worked on abstracting their prominent colours. I suppose this secularizes the windows, which is hardly my intention.
