The remarkable stained glass features inside a humble Greenock Kirk which could save the art
YOU don’t need to know much about art or religion to understand why Greenock’s Old West Kirk is something special. A quick skim through the history is enough.
Built at the end of the 16th century, it was the first Presbyterian church to be constructed following the Scottish Reformation, and the first to be approved by the original Scottish Parliament.
It also has links to more recent history, having been moved brick-by-brick from its previous location following the expansion of the Harland and Wolff shipyards just over a century ago.
The church is handsome, and a little quirky, and enjoys beautiful views over the water and out towards Argyll from its home at the eastern end of Greenock esplanade, but it is not obviously remarkable in any other way.
At least, not until you step inside.
There, above the pews and pulpit, and beneath the dark beams of the ceiling, the eye is drawn to the extraordinary collection of stained glass windows whose panels throw flashes of vibrant colour across the otherwise austere walls.
According to Alec Galloway, one of Scotland’s few remaining stained glass artists, these windows are of an international standard and even attract visitors from overseas.
They were designed by Sir Edward Burne-jones, a 19th century painter and designer regarded as one of the leading lights of the arts and crafts movement, which influenced people all across Europe and all across the world.
His work is found in galleries like the Tate Britain in London and the Musée d’orsay in Paris and this almost entirely unknown church by the water in
Greenock. The windows were commissioned for the building at a time when this was, as Galloway points out, a wealthy area reaping the benefits of trade in commodities like tobacco and sugar.
“To commission a Burne-jones for a local church is quite a feat,” he says “That’s what’s unique about them; they’re in a small, parish church but they’re by this international name that sets them apart.
It’s a feather in the cap of Greenock, and something to celebrate.”
Galloway helped to restore some of the work here and believes protecting this heritage is vital. But he isn’t interested only in preserving existing work, or even just creating his own, he also wants to teach others how to produce stained glass art and keep those skills alive in Scotland.
He taught at Edinburgh School of Art until the degree-level programme was closed, leaving no avenue for people to study to that standard in Scotland.
He now offers classes in his studio in Gourock, named Crow Cottage Arts, including sessions aimed specifically at young people.
The small-group classes allow Galloway to work closely with the children, helping them to turn their ideas and sketches into a work of art using a medium that seems to be ideally suited to encouraging creativity, expression and experimentation.
But there’s an ever bigger idea in the works which, if successful, could completely transform the landscape around stained glass in Scotland.
What’s more, this project could contribute to the restoration and regeneration of the one of the most striking buildings in the local area.
Built in the late 19th century, the Glebe was part of the local sugar trade that brought incredible wealth to Inverclyde, and is now the only substantial remnant of that once thriving industry. Five stories tall and free-standing, it’s unusual wedge shape is reminiscent of New York City’s famous flat-iron building, but in this case the patchwork of broken windows suggests a story of long-term neglect.
It is difficult to stand in its shadow and avoid the conclusion that, for all the wrong reasons, the B-listed Glebe building is an effective symbol of the present state of these former industrial heartlands.
But what if it could be brought back to life? What if this historic building, which towers over everything around it, could come to symbolise renewal rather than decline? That’s exactly what an organisation called Creative Regeneration hopes to achieve.
Galloway is one of the trustees of the new not-for-profit, alongside local teacher Finlay Campbell and architect Bruce Newlands, who was the driving force behind the nearby Inverclyde Shed project.
The goal is to transform the Glebe into a landmark creative skills centre and heritage space. Each floor would have a different focus, with current ideas including exhibits about the building’s industrial history, a youth theatre space, STEM and heritage focused “maker spaces”, office and meeting facilities for local charities and start-ups, and a flexible community area covering the ground floor.
Newlands says these ideas have been developed with local and national partners, suggestions from the 357 Creative Regeneration members and from others via social media. He says the final mix of uses will be informed by further public consultation with locals.
But the plans don’t stop at reusing the building; the group also wants to place a new crown jewel for the region on top of it: “All of this culminates in a new top floor, with panoramic views over the river Clyde, housing a new National Stained Glass School, with the aim of keeping this dying craft alive,” says Newlands.
It is, even in its simplest form, a hugely ambitious proposal, but that is not news to Newlands or his partners.
“Over the past six months we’ve commissioned a lot of building survey work, working with consultants to determine how best to sympathetically renovate this iconic remnant of Sugaropolis, the name given to Greenock in its sugar refinery heyday.
“Over the past 100 years the building has seen many uses in addition to its refinery role, including a brief period as a dormitory for GIS on their way to the European theatre during World War II.
“It’s been adapted internally during that time but much of the original industrial structure remains, so a lot of the work is to bring it back to its former glory whilst also achieving exceptional levels of sustainability.”
“The building is currently listed on the Buildings at Risk register,” he adds. “This may be the last chance to save it.”
The plan is for Alec Galloway and his wife, Louise, to manage and teach at the stained glass centre.
Courses would be designed to provide a basic apprenticeship scheme in glass” but, longer term, the idea is to establish an HNC/HND level programme in collaboration with an established further education college.
Creating a National Stained Glass School is, however, an enormous undertaking, especially for someone already as busy as Galloway, whose skills are in demand all over the UK. So what is motivating him to take on this project?
“When the degree course closed and I saw that was the end of it I got on my high horse at that time. I brought it to the attention of the Scottish Parliament and spoke at the culture committee about what it meant to lose this art form.
“I felt that I had a responsibility and that has carried on over the years. I’ve continued to work as a glass artist so I keep finding myself teaching glass, and obviously making it, and installing it in different buildings and seeing how people react to it.
“I tried setting up a Scottish Glass Centre before and got quite far down the line with the proposal, but it didn’t happen and I thought that was the end of that.
“Then last year it was announced that stained glass was to go on the endangered crafts list for the first time ever, and all those feelings resurfaced. I thought: it’s now or never.
“It’s a massive undertaking, and it’s going to be such a lot of work, a lot of commitment, but while I’m still active and working and fit enough I’ll continue to do it.”
That fresh urgency, serendipitously aligned with the interest in restoring the Glebe, now means there is an opportunity to revive an art form that is slipping closer to oblivion.
Unsurprisingly, Galloway believes that this would be a disaster: “Not only would you lose the skills and the people that make it, but in terms of our heritage in Scotland, our buildings that have got traditional stained glass in them, there’ll be nobody to look after those national treasures.
“We risk losing a massive range of beautiful Scottish masterpieces in glass. If they’re not cared for, the way they should be, they’ll fall into disrepair and it’ll be like losing a whole part of our past.
“We’d be losing part of ourselves.”
If they’re not cared for, the way they should be, they’ll fall into disrepair and it’ll be like losing a whole part of our past