Heavenly beauty of an artist’s chapel

Tucked away in the Surrey countryside, a cemetery building stands testament to the exquisite decorative skills of a painter and her band of community potters

Pand half-sunken graves, where dapples of light break through dense branches of yew, a well-trodden stone path curves gently up Budburrow Hill in the Surrey village of Compton. At the top of the rise, seeming to glow in the late afternoon sun, stands an unassuming chapel of red brick and terracotta, shadows flickering over barrel tile roofs and warm clay walls. Drawing closer, beasts and birds, crowns and stars begin to emerge from the facade. Pushing aside the heavy oak door, the interior astonishes. In place of the earthy monotone is a profusion of colour, with lavish decoration arching from walls to ceiling; the whole glinting in greens, blues, crimson and gold.

This remarkable building is the work of Mary Watts, a little-known artist, who married one of the most famous artists of her day, but found here the true expression of her own creative voice. Known as the Watts Mortuary Chapel, it was built for, and with, the villagers of Compton: testament, too, to Mary’s belief in the power of art to change lives.

“It’s hidden away down a country lane; you’re not expecting to come across it,” says Dr Stacey Clapperton, who is assistant curator at the nearby Watts Gallery. “It really is a hidden treasure. It’s been called an Arts and Crafts masterpiece, although Mary drew on many sources for her design, including Art Nouveau, Celtic Revival and the Romanesque. She moulded it all into her own perspective.”

The idea for the chapel was sown in 1894, when Compton Parish Council decided to purchase land to create a village cemetery. Living nearby at their newly built home, Limnerslease, were George Frederic Watts,

one of the most celebrated artists of the age, and his wife, Mary. The couple had commissioned Limnerslease as a winter retreat from London, setting up a purpose-built studio, where George could work on the outsize canvases and enormous sculptures he had been ruminating upon for years.

“George and Mary had married in 1886, when he was 69 and she 36, but had met approximately 10 years earlier,” explains Stacey. “She was a talented painter herself, interested in watercolours and portraiture. She came from a wealthy Scottish family, but was actually born in India, in 1849, as her father worked for the East India Company. The family moved back to Scotland when she was three years old, and she had an upper middle class, privileged lifestyle. At the age of 23, she enrolled at the Slade School of Fine Art in London, one of the first to let women attend the same classes as men.

She then moved to South Kensington School of Art, where she started to work in clay, which was generally considered unsuitable for a woman at that time.”

A fresh start

Since marrying, Mary had almost stopped painting, perhaps feeling lost in George’s shadow, although she maintained a passionate interest in design and architecture. Now, the couple offered to gift the parish a mortuary chapel, in ‘loving memory of all who find rest near its walls, and for the comfort and help of those to whom the sorrow of separation remains’. George financed the entire project, but, as he was always keen to stress, Mary was the artistic driving force. By 1895, in collaboration with architect George Redmayne, she had planned the structure of her chapel: a round church

“I want Compton to be an example of what God’s acre might be”

Mary Watts

intersected by a cross of faith. Here, she was drawing on a tradition of round churches that flourished in England between the 11th and 14th centuries.

Although the design of the building is clever, with the short transepts giving the impression within of incredibly thick walls, it is the decoration that fascinates. Mary used a language of symbols to appeal to the deep-rooted emotions and experiences she felt connected everyone and depicted the spiritual journey which all must undertake. Many of the images are based on the Bible and are easily recognisable, but others are more enigmatic. She drew inspiration from early Christian art found on Celtic tombs and crosses, from illuminated manuscripts, such as The Book of Kells, from Viking carvings, and medieval tracts, such as those of the English hermit Richard Rolle.

“She was still decorating the house, and you can see some of the ideas that were put into the chapel, such as the ceiling

panels, which were clearly an experiment for Compton,” says Stacey. “Old photos show Limnerslease once had a ‘reading niche’, where they would spend evenings reading aloud and which is decorated in an early version of what she went on to achieve with the chapel. We know many of her ideas because she later wrote a book, The Word in the Pattern, which explains the symbols she chose for her design and what they mean.”

Village craftsmanship

Although often seen as a romantic idyll, rural life at the turn of the 20th century could be a struggle, the advances of the industrial revolution making many old skills obsolete. Unemployment and hardship were rife. G F Watts and Mary believed art and craftsmanship could provide the poor with the practical skills needed to gain employment as well as bringing them the pleasure and pride of creating something beautiful. To this end, Mary had offered clay modelling classes to shoeblacks in London, and she continued this work now. Every Thursday evening, the drawing room at Limnerslease was opened to anyone in Compton who wanted to learn to work in clay. More than 70 villagers took part and began to craft terracotta tiles for the outside of the chapel, shaping the local red clay, found in the grounds of Limnerslease itself, into Mary’s designs.

The tiles produced came together into four friezes in a band around the exterior of the chapel: the frieze of hope, of truth, of love, and light, together forming a ‘path of the just’. Each is represented by a spiritual bird at the centre, attended by other spiritual beings, many of them animals; from spiders, for patience, to lions, for courage. Elaborate Celtic knotwork coils and rolls through the whole design, representing the interconnectedness of all things.

Between the friezes, buttresses and pillars also teem with imagery. Flowers and fruit burgeon at the bottom of the Tree of Life; the moon and stars, and angels at the top. Butterflies emerge from chrysalises, and seeds ripen to bring forth new life. Scandinavian sun boats sail to new realms, the breath of wind in their sails evidence of a powerful, yet unseen, force. There are seashells for unity and bells for joy. A dragon, the symbol of evil, writhes below circles of light and flame on the beautifully worked chestnut and oak door, carved by the village wheelwright, Thomas Steadman. It is pierced by an intricate iron cross, forged by blacksmith Clarence Sex. Above it, 15 angels’ faces peer below rows of peacock feathers. “Mary said

“Where the bright seraphim in burning row Their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow, And the Cherubic host in thousand choirs Touch their immortal harps of golden wires”

John Milton, ‘At a Solemn Music’

that some are looking down in sympathy and others up in hope,” notes Stacey. “Every face is slightly different, so you get the sense of the individual craftspeople and who was best at certain bits.”

Chapel interior

By 1898, the outside of the chapel had been completed. The building and its cemetery, with its cloister of brick arches, were consecrated by the Bishop of Winchester, and a party held to celebrate. But inside, work continued, with local women helping Mary to create a vision of heaven and earth alive with colour and intricate decoration. “It’s a very small space, less than 7m across and only 10m at its highest, and it feels very personal,” says Stacey. “I’m still blown away every time I see it, and on tours, you get an immediate reaction of surprise, almost bewilderment, as people look up and try to take everything in.”

At the top of the domed ceiling is a representation of God, the everlasting circle, and below it, the different hierarchies of angels. Four crimson-robed seraphim, literally, ‘the burning ones’, their hands raised in blessing, are at the apex, surrounded by ‘symbols of the truths’, such as ‘innocence’ and ‘mercy’, representing the middle orders. Child-like cherubs, one of the earliest symbols of the soul, gaze from leaves of pink, lilac and gold. At the bottom are the ‘angels of light and dark’: the one to help, the other to tempt humanity from the true path. The faces of the first glow gold as they stare from the wall: those of the second are obscured. Each holds on a golden string a roundel showing the opposing forces that govern life: rest and labour, growth and decay. A row of cheerful flowers made by village children create a belt around the centre of the chapel, the space

joined by the sinuous roots and branches of the Tree of Life.

The images are made of painted gesso, which was poured into wooden frames strengthened with wire. Pieces of felt or wool were sometimes added to give texture, and the gesso carved, so that light and shadow play across the surface. Metallic leaf glitters, the impression of movement captivating in the light that filters through the narrow windows.

At the east end of the chapel is the altar, inscribed with the symbols of the Evangelists and the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. It is crowned by a version of Watts’ The All-Pervading; a winged figure swathed in robes, which he felt represented the spirit of the ‘immeasurable expanse’. Painted especially for the chapel, its installation on 15 April 1904 marked the completion of the project, 10 years in the making.

Just three months later, Mary’s world was turned upside down, when her husband died at their London home. His ashes were brought to Compton, and he was buried at the chapel he had only so recently seen completed.

“The Watts were an extraordinary couple, who, in a way, transformed the life of the village,” says Stacey. “The chapel became a real source of pride for the locals: it took on a real value to them. Mary moved to Limnerslease full time following George’s death, looking after his artistic legacy and writing his biography.

“She died in 1938, and her ashes lie besides his, in the grave she designed. It is fitting they are together here.”

CONTACT

Please note the Watts chapel is a working mortuary chapel and may sometimes be closed to the public. Tours can be booked through the Watts Gallery at www.wattsgallery.org.uk.

A wealth of colour, opulence and ornate detail waits to be discovered inside the red clay walls of Watts chapel in Surrey.

The chapel’s vibrant red brick and curved shape, dissected by a cross structure, draw the visitor to the fascinating exterior decoration reaching up to and under the roof tiles and around the grand doorway arch. The buttresses depict the whole of creation, from plants and flowers below to beasts and birds above.

An intricate Art Nouveau-style design on the back rest of a bench against the chapel exterior.

Nature motifs in the wrought-iron latches on the heavily carved wooden doors to the chapel.

Dr Stacey Clapperton inside the chapel, illustrating the scale of the winged messengers, which alternate between facing out and away.

Tree-lined paths wrap around this remarkable hillside building, with its windows in elongated Romanesque proportions.

A roof support. Each face has its own expression in the style of its carver.

Villagers taught by Mary Watts helped make terracotta relief tiles of angels’ faces.

The Watts’ sprawling Arts and Crafts retreat, Limnerslease, which they called ‘the little house’, was a source of inspiration and productivity.

The eclectic carvings include Celtic knots influenced by Mary’s Scottish upbringing and Egyptian hieroglyphics which she would have encountered on her honeymoon.

Mary reading to her husband George circa 1894-5 in a decorative nook, in what was known as the Red Room at Limnerslease.

This elaborate frieze illustrates the path of the just, with birds representing the human truths.

A shaft of light sets the gold embossed detail aglow. A hierarchy of angels covers the ceiling, with four seraphim, dressed in red, positioned closest to God, surrounded by seven discs representing essential human virtues, such as courage, justice and truth.

Within golden ‘strings’, the winged messengers hold a series of opposites, such as life and death, sorrow and joy, and rest and labour. Raised detail includes Celtic knots, fruit and flowers.

For a mortuary chapel, the interior is far from sombre. It is a meeting of heaven and earth in rich colour, bound together by the Tree of Life and topped by an eternal circle.

Mary, pictured far left, created a village industry in Compton, with locals helping to paint the chapel, including children.

A central panel comprises a wooden frame covered with chicken wire and plaster, with shallow relief created in felt and rope, then painted and gilded.

A russet halo emanates from the serene face of an angel looking down on visitors to the chapel of treasures.

An inscription on the altar sums up the couple’s aims to bring people together using art, and to honour the dead.