I'm searching for words to explain this. I am completely fascinated by the work of Hugh Easton (1906-65) who filled window after window with beautiful, young, muscular, bleached blonde angels wearing very little or, more usually, nothing at all. They nearly all have the same facial features including a slightly upturned nose, and the same, blow-dried, swept-back hair (their profiles and hairlines are remarkably like Hugh Easton's own), while his women also have the exact same features, equally muscular bodies, large hands, but longer blonde hair. (They look like something off mid-century pulp fiction book covers or film posters.) His work is totally at odds with everything else that was happening in the post-war art and design world and yet he got commission after commission and filled all sorts of churches and chapels and cathedrals with windows that are, essentially, variations on a handful of themes (naked youths, wings, sailors, RAF men, nurses, lilies, roses, muscular babies and body-building women.)
I've been spending time researching Hugh Easton, reading his diaries and notebooks in the V&A archive, visiting places to see his windows, reading everything I can find in the British Library, working out his connections. And I can say there's a pretty interesting story in there.
But this post isn't about that, it's about the fact that I have decided to set up a blog devoted to stained glass: Glazed Expressions. The subject isn't going to go away, so I feel it needs its own space, while I carry on with the Grand Provincial and Capital Tours and all the usual yarnstorm things here.
Have a look, if only to see the other three figures in the window where I found this Strictly Come Dancing angel.