In London, in 1259, the newly elected Abbot of Westminster, Richard de Ware, was sent to Rome for confirmation of his post. There he discovered the decorative marble work of the Roman Cosmati family. This made such an impression upon de Ware that he arranged for craftsmen and precious marbles to be brought to London from Italy, and thus was begun work on the sanctuary pavement before the high altar of Westminster Abbey. The Great Pavement was completed in 1268. It is the only work of its kind north of the alps, and the only known piece of Cosmati opus sectile work with text.
I went to look for this pavement in London in the summer of 1998, although this search had actually begun many years ago during my years in Italy. At that time, lengthy stays in Rome admiring Baroque and Mannerist work also exposed me to the lovely Romanesque basilicas with their wonderful Cosmati opus sectile pavements and cloister columns.
My working methods have always consisted of research and information-gathering on topics of interest, with materials sometimes being filed away for several years before actually being incorporated into a body of work. Documents and images collected over time formed a base on which to build when my interests at last shifted to the twelfth century.
The forerunners of the Great Pavement were a set of four large nylon and net panels that made up part of the 1997 S.S. Giovanni e Giacomo exhibit held at the Gallery of Mississauga. These panels represent the incised patterns in the cloister columns of the Monreale Duomo, a twelfth-century Arab-Norman cathedral in Sicily that I visited subsequently to the exhibit. The net columns were the first geometric-based works of my career. The study of the patterning led me to much earlier research on Cosmati pavements and I came across a fabulous book, Patterns of Thought, by Richard Foster, in which the iconography of the Westminster Abbey sanctuary pavement was explored in detail.
I begin a project because it draws me, and only after the initial commitment has been made do I then try to fathom its meaning and significance. The Norman rule in Sicily fascinated me with its political, artistic and cultural synthesis of Christian and Arab traditions. The Monreale Duomo was built under the rule of William II in 1174. At approximately the same time in England, such outstanding examples of Norman architecture as Durham Cathedral, Winchester, Malmsbury and the earlier parts of Westminster Abbey were taking form. The spirit of these strong, spare monuments travelled south with the Norman conquerors, and joined with pre-existing Arab traditions of architecture and design to create the distinctive Arab-Norman style. The ornamental marble work of the Roman Cosmati that had so impressed Richard de Ware, meanwhile, graced Norman structures throughout both their English and their Sicilian kingdoms. The artistic impulses of these wandering warriors created the link between the country of my birth and my adopted land.
Who knows what it is that ultimately prompts one to pursue a particular artistic choice over so many others? In the case of the Great Pavement, I can only suggest the sheer beauty of this stone carpet, its unification of two important countries and the fascinating period in history to which it belongs.
The 1997 installation at the Art Gallery of Mississauga had been the recreation of a twelfth-century southern Italian Duomo. I now wished to create a twelfth-century cathedral pavement.
The textile piece is created to scale. Once the initial research was completed, work on the piece proceeded in the amenity room of my building, as the studio was not large enough to accommodate its twelve-foot square format. Three lengths of white translucent nylon were sewn together to create a square, and then a full-scale drawn paper pattern was cut into sections to provide the basic shapes of the larger circles and rings which were then cut from interfacing. Each ring and segment was built individually with various pieces of coloured nylon organza. The pieces were layered, from the largest shape to the fine geometric detailing which creates the topmost layer. Each layer had to be hand-stitched to the base below it. There were up to four people helping me with the sewing. I cut and assembled the work and gradually, often with the assistance of four theatre and fashion sewers, the assembled pieces were stitched onto the main backing. Patterns were cut in the remaining spaces left between the circles and the open areas were backed with net and the white nylon areas with a cut pattern of coloured organza. Once the bands defining the central square were in place, stencil rollers and a large eight-inch fan brush were used to apply colour and patterning.
Some work was pieced together over Christmas 1999 in Palermo in my tiny hotel room overlooking the Ballaro market, and some on the ballroom floor of the beautiful Palazzo Ajutamicristo. The piece also travelled to Calgary and I worked on it in my parents' living room. It became known as "Jacqueline's friend." I called it "the monster," as it had, effectively, taken over a large part of my existence. I was able to see the piece at its full size on Easter Monday, 2000, in the school of the Art Gallery of Ontario where it was then completed with a canvas border and grommets attached with machine stitching for the installation process.
The work's visual effect changes dramatically according to both artificial and natural light sources. When seen against a strong natural light, as it is mounted at Cambridge (see photo above), it resembles a delicate and pale lace doily. Against a dark background, with the light source coming from the front, it turns into a strong, shimmering shield of colour and pattern. In certain conditions the cut patterns and shapes can cast shadows in the space around the area in which the work is installed. Any change in light and the position of the viewer can alter the impact of the piece. This is intentional, and this changing effect of light and shadow is one of the main reasons I currently work in this fashion.
Geometric designs have been used for expressing and exploring philosophical ideas since classical times.
The Westminster pavement represents the complexities of the mediaeval universe. Scientists now describe the workings of the universe as being governed by four forces--electro-magnetic, strong nuclear force, weak nuclear force and gravity. The mediaeval scholar perceived four kinds of living beings in the universe. The four primary elements of mediaeval philosophy are fire (where dwell the heavenly race of gods), air, water and earth (where dwell the three classes of earthly beings). The pavement is an object of contemplation, and its four-fold symmetry is the first confirmation of the cosmological intent of its design.
The Cosmati craftsmen who laid the pavement were members of a large family of marble craftsmen active in Italy for the best part of two centuries. Their work is opus sectile, stones of different sizes cut to particular shapes to fit a geometric pattern. The preferred materials were porphyrys and rare marbles re-used from the decaying classical buildings of Rome. Their designs are entirely geometric, based on roundels and rectangular patterns linked by curving bands of pattern. The opus sectile work of the Westminster pavement forms a square measuring twenty-four feet ten inches on each side. The overall design has a four-fold symmetry, and nearly all the bands and roundels have a unique pattern. There are sixty bands with forty-nine distinct patterns, and sixty-eight spaces left between the geometric elements are filled with equally complex patterns.
The square outer border has four panels and sixteen roundels, representing in abstract form the infinite diversity of the world built up from the material manifestation of the four elements. The spaces furthest from the pavement's centre represent the lowest levels of time, the mundane and transitory world of human life and achievement. The nine roundels in the main part of the design reflect the primum mobile, the ninth sphere of the universe.
The central silva roundel is primal matter, surrounded by the four elements that are connected by band patterns representing hot, cold, dry and moist.
South: Sun polygon with dot represents Sunday
North: Seven sides represent the seven phases of the moon
East: Disc represents the spirit of God
West: Earth, the hexagon, represents the first perfect number
The seven-sided polygon represents the book with the seven seals, the seven churches of Asia
The hexagon represents the six ages of the world leading up to the Last Judgement
The eight-sided polygon represents the cosmic Sunday, a great Sabbath of eternal rest
The pavement is the only piece of its kind to carry a text. The text is inscribed with inlay, using an uncial script.
In the four years before this Year of our Lord 1272,
King Henry III, the Court of Rome, Odoricus and the Abbot
set in place these porphyry stones.
If the reader wittingly reflects upon all that is laid down,
he will discover here the measure of the primum mobile:
the hedge stands for three years,
add in turn dogs, and horse and men
stags and ravens, eagles, huge sea monsters, the world;
each that follows triples the years of the one before.
Here is the perfectly rounded sphere which reveals
the eternal pattern of the universe.
This cut and layered panel is the most challenging piece I have undertaken to date. There were days, even weeks, when it was questionable if it would reach completion; the piece almost defeated me. The technical problems associated with the tension caused by layering and size were formidable. The emotional, financial and physical strains were enormous. Such challenges are typical of the artistic experience, and while they are self-generated, I firmly believe that these hurdles are necessary in order to proceed to the next phase of one's career. Challenges such as the Great Pavement stretch one's thought and discipline, and the ensuing cycle of successes, errors and corrections is an integral part of any new venture, binding together the extremes of the artistic process in the very fabric of the work and resulting in a very emotive piece.