Boat of Remembrance (Nave), 2018
Mould-blown glass and steel, blown at Hergiswil, Switzerland
One hundred clear glass amphorae have been suspended in the shape of a ship from the safety deck in the Cathedral’s Nave, each one representing a year of remembrance since 1918. Amphorae were originally designed for the transport of goods by ship and were also used as funeral urns, and so are symbolic of the human journey, from the cradle to the grave.
The massed vessels are a memorial for the people, of all nationalities, who died in the First World War but also bring to mind those who were part of the great movement of peoples following both wars and who continue to seek refuge from violent hostilities today. In Christianity, the boat draws on the idea of the Church as a place of sanctuary (the word ‘nave’ comes from the Latin word for ship, navis).
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Boat of Remembrance (Nave), 2018
Mould-blown glass and steel, blown at Hergiswil, Switzerland
One hundred clear glass amphorae have been suspended in the shape of a ship from the safety deck in the Cathedral’s Nave, each one representing a year of remembrance since 1918. Amphorae were originally designed for the transport of goods by ship and were also used as funeral urns, and so are symbolic of the human journey, from the cradle to the grave.
The massed vessels are a memorial for the people, of all nationalities, who died in the First World War but also bring to mind those who were part of the great movement of peoples following both wars and who continue to seek refuge from violent hostilities today. In Christianity, the boat draws on the idea of the Church as a place of sanctuary (the word ‘nave’ comes from the Latin word for ship, navis).
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Boat of Remembrance (Nave), 2018
Mould-blown glass and steel, blown at Hergiswil, Switzerland
One hundred clear glass amphorae have been suspended in the shape of a ship from the safety deck in the Cathedral’s Nave, each one representing a year of remembrance since 1918. Amphorae were originally designed for the transport of goods by ship and were also used as funeral urns, and so are symbolic of the human journey, from the cradle to the grave.
The massed vessels are a memorial for the people, of all nationalities, who died in the First World War but also bring to mind those who were part of the great movement of peoples following both wars and who continue to seek refuge from violent hostilities today. In Christianity, the boat draws on the idea of the Church as a place of sanctuary (the word ‘nave’ comes from the Latin word for ship, navis).
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Boat of Remembrance (Nave), 2018
Mould-blown glass and steel, blown at Hergiswil, Switzerland
One hundred clear glass amphorae have been suspended in the shape of a ship from the safety deck in the Cathedral’s Nave, each one representing a year of remembrance since 1918. Amphorae were originally designed for the transport of goods by ship and were also used as funeral urns, and so are symbolic of the human journey, from the cradle to the grave.
The massed vessels are a memorial for the people, of all nationalities, who died in the First World War but also bring to mind those who were part of the great movement of peoples following both wars and who continue to seek refuge from violent hostilities today. In Christianity, the boat draws on the idea of the Church as a place of sanctuary (the word ‘nave’ comes from the Latin word for ship, navis).
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Four Assassins (The Martyrdom), 2018
Mould-blown glass, blown at Venini, Murano, Italy. Mould-blown glass, blown at Venini, Murano, Italy.
Four glass sentinels stand guard close to the site of Thomas Becket’s murder in 1170. Like witnesses, one for each of Becket’s four assassins, they remind us of the violent act that changed the course of history and was the catalyst for the pilgrimage to Canterbury Cathedral of millions of people crossing continents to visit the site of Becket’s martyrdom. Says Monica Guggisberg: ‘For us the idea of the sentinel keeping watch is about awareness, about our inner voice of conscience. In the case of the four knights who murdered Becket, a misplaced sense of duty overrode their moral sense. Distinguishing right from wrong is one of the things that makes us human.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Four Assassins (The Martyrdom), 2018
Mould-blown glass, blown at Venini, Murano, Italy.
Four glass sentinels stand guard close to the site of Thomas Becket’s murder in 1170. Like witnesses, one for each of Becket’s four assassins, they remind us of the violent act that changed the course of history and was the catalyst for the pilgrimage to Canterbury Cathedral of millions of people crossing continents to visit the site of Becket’s martyrdom. Says Monica Guggisberg: ‘For us the idea of the sentinel keeping watch is about awareness, about our inner voice of conscience. In the case of the four knights who murdered Becket, a misplaced sense of duty overrode their moral sense. Distinguishing right from wrong is one of the things that makes us human.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Four Assassins (The Martyrdom), 2018
Mould-blown glass, blown at Venini, Murano, Italy.
Four glass sentinels stand guard close to the site of Thomas Becket’s murder in 1170. Like witnesses, one for each of Becket’s four assassins, they remind us of the violent act that changed the course of history and was the catalyst for the pilgrimage to Canterbury Cathedral of millions of people crossing continents to visit the site of Becket’s martyrdom. Says Monica Guggisberg: ‘For us the idea of the sentinel keeping watch is about awareness, about our inner voice of conscience. In the case of the four knights who murdered Becket, a misplaced sense of duty overrode their moral sense. Distinguishing right from wrong is one of the things that makes us human.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Four Assassins (The Martyrdom), 2018
Mould-blown glass, blown at Venini, Murano, Italy.
Four glass sentinels stand guard close to the site of Thomas Becket’s murder in 1170. Like witnesses, one for each of Becket’s four assassins, they remind us of the violent act that changed the course of history and was the catalyst for the pilgrimage to Canterbury Cathedral of millions of people crossing continents to visit the site of Becket’s martyrdom. Says Monica Guggisberg: ‘For us the idea of the sentinel keeping watch is about awareness, about our inner voice of conscience. In the case of the four knights who murdered Becket, a misplaced sense of duty overrode their moral sense. Distinguishing right from wrong is one of the things that makes us human.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Four Assassins (The Martyrdom), 2018
Mould-blown glass, blown at Venini, Murano, Italy.
Four glass sentinels stand guard close to the site of Thomas Becket’s murder in 1170. Like witnesses, one for each of Becket’s four assassins, they remind us of the violent act that changed the course of history and was the catalyst for the pilgrimage to Canterbury Cathedral of millions of people crossing continents to visit the site of Becket’s martyrdom. Says Monica Guggisberg: ‘For us the idea of the sentinel keeping watch is about awareness, about our inner voice of conscience. In the case of the four knights who murdered Becket, a misplaced sense of duty overrode their moral sense. Distinguishing right from wrong is one of the things that makes us human.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
You, Me and the Rest of Us (North Aisle), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass, gold leaf and steel
One hundred amphorae, some gilded, some not, suggest the inequalities that dehumanise our world and which have not changed in one hundred years.
Says Philip: ‘The wealthy are wealthier today than at any time since before the outbreak of the First World War, and that can only happen when the poor get poorer. At the same time many of us are blinkered by our inability to see things as they are: extremist thinking has become worryingly universal.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Ordnance Boat (North Aisle) 2018
Kiln-formed glass, steel, used ammunition and related statistics on paper
It’s important to confront the dark side. Sometimes you have to front up to difficult truths and allow them into your work. Governments like to use euphemisms such as “collateral damage” to describe the accidental killing of civilians during military operations and the consequences of violence.
This work is our rebuttal to that kind of thinking: there can be no euphemism for state-sponsored slaughter or the impact of conflict on people’s lives.
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Ordnance Boat (North Aisle) 2018
Kiln-formed glass, steel, used ammunition and related statistics on paper
It’s important to confront the dark side. Sometimes you have to front up to difficult truths and allow them into your work. Governments like to use euphemisms such as “collateral damage” to describe the accidental killing of civilians during military operations and the consequences of violence.
This work is our rebuttal to that kind of thinking: there can be no euphemism for state-sponsored slaughter or the impact of conflict on people’s lives.
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Unité, Diversité, Egalité (The Corona) 2018
Painted steel
A sculpture of strands of twisted white metal hangs from the Corona gallery, one of the most sacred parts of the Cathedral. (The Corona was built in the 12th century as a shrine to house the crown of St Thomas’s skull – the other relics were enshrined in the Trinity Chapel opposite.) Each strand supports the other and is integral to the whole.
Says Monica: ‘We used white here for a reason; it’s a fact that if you spin together the seven colours of the light spectrum the result is pure white. So for us white is an affirmation of the interconnectedness of culture and society, of what happens when people of different stripes come together.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Unité, Diversité, Egalité (The Corona) 2018
Painted steel
A sculpture of strands of twisted white metal hangs from the Corona gallery, one of the most sacred parts of the Cathedral. (The Corona was built in the 12th century as a shrine to house the crown of St Thomas’s skull – the other relics were enshrined in the Trinity Chapel opposite.) Each strand supports the other and is integral to the whole.
Says Monica: ‘We used white here for a reason; it’s a fact that if you spin together the seven colours of the light spectrum the result is pure white. So for us white is an affirmation of the interconnectedness of culture and society, of what happens when people of different stripes come together.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Pilgrims' Boat (St Thomas Becket's shrine in the Trinity Chapel), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass, steel and sand
The Pilgrims’ Boat suggests the colourful cavalcade of the thousands of Europeans who came as pilgrims as news of Thomas Becket’s martyrdom spread throughout the Continent. The benefits to Canterbury of their pilgrimage have stood the test of time: the money they donated paid for some of the Cathedral’s most beautiful stained glass. There are estimated to have been 100,000 visitors to Thomas’s shrine in 1171 alone.
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Architect's Mobile (South Aisle), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass and steel
A mobile made of forms representing the five symbols found in all cultures from earliest times: the square, the circle, the triangle, the cross and the spiral.
Mobiles are all about balance – each very different shape contributes to the equilibrium of the whole.
Says Monica:‘The shapes in this work are symbolic of fundamental aspects of human life.The square refers to stability and solidarity; the circle to the larger world, the universe and the idea of wholeness within it; the triangle to life’s goals and dreams; the cross to our relationships, integration and connections; and the spiral to growth, change and evolution. For us this mobile brings together in physical form culture, the structure of the Cathedral building, its history and community together with our own journey as artists.’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Stone Boat (St Anselm's Chapel), 2018 (Copy)
Caen stone, made by the Stonemasons’ workshop, Canterbury Cathedral.
This boat is a collaboration between the artists and the Cathedral’s stonemasons, and is made from Caen stone, the material from which much of the Cathedral is built, to the artists’design.
A double helix is carved on the boat’s interior: the spiral is one of the oldest of spiritual symbols, found in every society in the ancient world, and a sign of early peoples’ search for meaning. It also mirrors the form of the molecular structure of DNA – of life itself.
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
The Stone Boat (St Anselm's Chapel), 2018
Caen stone, made by the Stonemasons’ workshop, Canterbury Cathedral.
This boat is a collaboration between the artists and the Cathedral’s stonemasons, and is made from Caen stone, the material from which much of the Cathedral is built, to the artists’design.
A double helix is carved on the boat’s interior: the spiral is one of the oldest of spiritual symbols, found in every society in the ancient world, and a sign of early peoples’ search for meaning. It also mirrors the form of the molecular structure of DNA – of life itself.
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow (Eastern Crypt), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass, sand, styrofoam and steel
Three cabinets representing past, present and future: the first is suggestive of the civilizations that have shaped our present; the second our diverse and vibrant world, the one in which we live.
The third cabinet’, says Philip, ‘is a question about where we are going: will science, working together with capitalism, eventually spawn a cultural and environmental wasteland? Is this where we’re headed – what do you think?’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow (Eastern Crypt), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass, sand, styrofoam and steel
Three cabinets representing past, present and future: the first is suggestive of the civilizations that have shaped our present; the second our diverse and vibrant world, the one in which we live.
The third cabinet’, says Philip, ‘is a question about where we are going: will science, working together with capitalism, eventually spawn a cultural and environmental wasteland? Is this where we’re headed – what do you think?’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow (Eastern Crypt), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass, sand, styrofoam and steel
Three cabinets representing past, present and future: the first is suggestive of the civilizations that have shaped our present; the second our diverse and vibrant world, the one in which we live.
The third cabinet’, says Philip, ‘is a question about where we are going: will science, working together with capitalism, eventually spawn a cultural and environmental wasteland? Is this where we’re headed – what do you think?’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow (Eastern Crypt), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass, sand, styrofoam and steel
Three cabinets representing past, present and future: the first is suggestive of the civilizations that have shaped our present; the second our diverse and vibrant world, the one in which we live.
The third cabinet’, says Philip, ‘is a question about where we are going: will science, working together with capitalism, eventually spawn a cultural and environmental wasteland? Is this where we’re headed – what do you think?’
Photo by Christoph Lehmann
Peoples' Wall (Chapter House), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass and steel
180 x 240 x 36 cm
When people make the difficult decision to leave home, and with it their families and friends, they do so hoping they can find somewhere they will be welcome and rebuild their lives.
In our minds this work represents the coming together of displaced people from far-flung places with existing populations to create vibrant multi- cultural communities – the kind that many of our most creative cities thrive on.Wall- building is often about keeping people out. This wall is transparent, it’s about inclusion – this is our paean to a better future.
Photo by Alex Ramsay
Peoples' Wall (Chapter House), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass and steel
180 x 240 x 36 cm
When people make the difficult decision to leave home, and with it their families and friends, they do so hoping they can find somewhere they will be welcome and rebuild their lives.
In our minds this work represents the coming together of displaced people from far-flung places with existing populations to create vibrant multi- cultural communities – the kind that many of our most creative cities thrive on.Wall- building is often about keeping people out. This wall is transparent, it’s about inclusion – this is our paean to a better future.
Photo by Alex Ramsay
Peoples' Wall (Chapter House), 2018
Free-blown and cold-worked glass and steel
180 x 240 x 36 cm
When people make the difficult decision to leave home, and with it their families and friends, they do so hoping they can find somewhere they will be welcome and rebuild their lives.
In our minds this work represents the coming together of displaced people from far-flung places with existing populations to create vibrant multi- cultural communities – the kind that many of our most creative cities thrive on.Wall- building is often about keeping people out. This wall is transparent, it’s about inclusion – this is our paean to a better future.
Photo by Alex Ramsay