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- The Orientalist
Louis Comfort Tiffany’s Fête: A Riot of Color and Fantasy On a February 16, 1913, The New York Times featured on it's front page images of “Egyptian fête” held in a “riot of color.”, a birthday celebration for Louis Comfort Tiffany gathering New York’s bohemian elite for one of the most dazzling spectacles the city had ever seen. MOST LAVISH COSTUME FETE EVER SEEN IN NEW YORK: Louis C. Tiffany’s Egyptian Pageant, Given in His Studio at 345 Madison Avenue on February 4, Was Distinctive Both for the Historical Accuracy of Its Settings and the Gorgeousness of Its Costumes, the Designers of Which Were John W. Alexander, Mrs. Edward P. Sperry, and Francis Tonett. The Staging Was Directed by J. Lindon Smith of Boston. For the Entertainment, Which Was a Combination Dramatic and Social Affair, Weeks of Preparation Had Been Necessary, and the Stage Was More Spacious Than Those of Many Theatres. Louis Comfort Tiffany , (The Orientalists) already the leading figure of American decorative arts, transformed his Madison Avenue studio into a stage set out of Cleopatra’s world. Artists, socialites, and actors immersed themselves in a pageant that blurred the lines between theater, costume ball, and living artwork. Guests arrived in elaborate costumes inspired by antiquity. John W. Alexander appeared as a mummy, dramatically brought to life before supper. Hedwig Reicher , the German actress, embodied the role of Cleopatra herself, while dozens of others—draped in silks, beads, and exotic robes—played priests, slaves, and courtiers in the phantasmagoria. The entire spectacle was lit with Tiffany’s own mastery of color and glass, shimmering against the painted walls and glowing lamps of his studio. Louis Comfort Tiffany. The New York Times. Photo by Aime Dupont (enhanced). The Orientalist The Times article underscores the extravagance of the night: dancing, music, and tableaux vivants staged with the precision of a theater production. Tiffany’s studio became, for one night, a temple of transformation. His reputation as an artist of light and fantasy found its ultimate expression in this carefully orchestrated social event. Notable figures of New York’s artistic community attended and even took part. Sculptors, painters, and actors mingled freely, united in their admiration for Tiffany’s vision. Among them was Attilio Piccirilli , who appeared in the perfect role of a Roman centurion—a striking bit of typecasting for the sculptor who had carved some of America’s most enduring monuments. His presence symbolized the collaborative spirit of the age—sculptors, glassmakers, architects, and performers all lending their genius to a shared cultural pageant. Early paintings of L.ouis C. Tiffany speak of his fascination with the Middle East The fête reflected the mood of New York on the eve of modernism, when artists and patrons alike sought to reinvent ancient traditions in a new language of spectacle. Tiffany’s glass had already redefined the possibilities of light; now his social imagination extended that radiance into performance and memory. Edward C. Moore: The Influencer It is also important to acknowledge the possible influence of Edward C. Moore, who was the leading force behind the success of Tiffany & Company silverware in the second half of the nineteenth century. Moore, a contemporary of Louis Comfort’s father, amassed an extraordinary collection of Islamic-style objects ranging from simple engraved pieces to elaborate repoussé and enamel creations. His fascination with the East coincided with a broader wave of Islamic-inspired design that was reshaping American architecture, interiors, fine arts, and decorative arts. It seems reasonable to believe that such a world, so close to Tiffany Sr., left a mark on the young Louis Comfort. In this sense, Louis’s later travels to the Middle East might be seen not as isolated adventures but as a prolongation of an American Orientalist tradition—one he carried into a second generation, reaching its apex when, at sixty-five, he celebrated with the lavish Oriental Fête that swept New York off its feet.¹ Edward C. Moore by by Howard Russell Butler c.1885 From Fête to Film: Orientalism in the Popular Imagination In many ways, Tiffany’s Oriental Fête of 1913 can be seen as a pioneering wave of Orientalist spectacle in America—an elite experiment that anticipated the mass-market fascination soon to follow in popular culture. Only a few years later, films such as Cleopatra (1917), The Dancer of the Nile (1923), and above all The Sheik (1921) would explode into middle-class consciousness, bringing to mainstream audiences the same fantasies of exoticism, passion, and escape that Tiffany staged for New York’s bohemia. The passionate love portrayed by Valentino’s character in The Sheik marked a sharp break from the constrictions of the Victorian period, unleashing both intense devotion and harsh criticism. Were such scenes released today, they would likely be “canceled” outright for their gender politics and Orientalist stereotypes. How early feminists viewed the roles imposed on women in these films remains an open and fascinating question—but that is perhaps a story for another chapter. More than a century later, this remarkable night shows that Tiffany’s genius was never meant to be confined to windows and lamps. His vision extended to entire worlds of light, fantasy, and human presence—fleeting in their moment, but hard to ignore. The publicity portrait of Tiffany from this very fête, widely reproduced in newspapers nationwide, captured him in full regalia: a bejeweled robe, a turban crowned with a jewel, and the bearing of a man staging not just a party, but a vision. That image, enhanced for clarity, will accompany the upcoming production Tiffany in the Wild , as we continue to explore the artist’s works not in galleries but in the living, breathing contexts for which they were created. Footnotes FISH, ELIZABETH L. KERR. “Edward C. Moore and Tiffany Islamic-Style Silver, c. 1867-1889.” Studies in the Decorative Arts , vol. 6, no. 2, 1999, pp. 42–63. JSTOR , http://www.jstor.org/stable/40662679 . Accessed 15 Sept. 2025.
- Tiffany in the Wild: Pratt Institute
Inspired by a recent reading of Mario Amaya’s Tiffany Glass (Walker and Co., New York, 1967), I headed straight to the Main Library at Pratt Institute , just a short walk from my temporary stay in Brooklyn. I knew beforehand that the Tiffany interiors here did not include his famous stained-glass windows, yet the experience was no less extraordinary. What struck me most were the frosted glass floors—semi-translucent surfaces designed to let light pass while safeguarding privacy. In the late 19th century, when all women wore dresses and skirts, this ingenious solution allowed silhouettes to be revealed only as shadows, protecting modesty while illuminating the spaces below. The library itself, designed in Renaissance Revival style by architect William B. Tubby, is a masterpiece of integrated design. Tiffany & Company’s interiors enhance the marble staircases and pillars, while the three-story brick structure conceals innovations that speak to an era of experimentation. The book stacks—glass floors, oak shelves, copper-plated supports—were designed by the Library Bureau, founded by Melville Dewey in 1876. Every element embodies the spirit of progress at the turn of the century, where architecture, craftsmanship, and new technologies intersected seamlessly. Louis Comfort Tiffany at Pratt Institute Louis Comfort Tiffany at Pratt Institute For our project Tiffany in the Wild , Pratt represents more than an architectural curiosity—it highlights Tiffany’s wide-ranging genius beyond stained glass windows, reminding us that he was not only a colorist and craftsman but also a thinker of light and space. These interiors show how Tiffany worked in close dialogue with architects and engineers, much as he did in mausoleums, churches, and civic spaces. They also reflect the collaborative ethos we’ve seen again and again in his work: where design, architecture, and social needs meet to form lasting cultural memory. I spent a couple of hours inside, photographing details and letting the atmosphere sink in. Pratt is one of those rare places where the past still whispers through glass and stone. For anyone curious about Tiffany’s beginnings, Amaya’s book remains a wonderful introduction to these early years. What the photos here cannot capture is the living quality of Tiffany’s vision—the way glass and light still transform the experience of a library visit into something quietly transcendent.
- Tiffany: Beyond the Gilded Age
The Untold Story of Louis Comfort Tiffany's Global Artistic Empire and How America's Master of Light Became the World's First Global Design Ambassador
- San Sebastián Film Festival and the Cultural Mask of Hate and Antisemitism
Franco’s Strategy Toward the Holocaust: A Chameleon in the Warmest Sun Declaration of Principles We can no longer remain silent in the face of Europe’s rising antisemitism. What once passed as neutrality or cultural critique now emerges as open hostility toward Israel and the Jewish people. To be silent is to be complicit; to speak is to stand against the distortion of history and the legitimization of terror. This declaration affirms my refusal to accept antisemitism in any guise, and my commitment to name it whenever and wherever it appears. -- Eduardo Montes-Bradley English When Culture Becomes a Mask for Antisemitism Spain's Strategy Toward the Holocaust: A Chameleon in the Warmest Sun I am outraged by the declaration delivered at the festival press conference by José Luis Rebordinos and Ruth Pérez . By framing Israel as the principal perpetrator of “genocide and unimaginable massacres” while reducing Hamas’s barbaric terrorist attacks of October 7 to a passing reference, they have adopted and promoted a rhetoric that is unmistakably antisemitic . This is not a neutral statement of human rights. It is the oldest prejudice in Europe, dressed up in the language of culture and justice. Once again, the privileged cinema of the European bourgeoisie takes the side of terror—yesterday the Cuban Revolution, later ETA, and today Hamas—while singling out the Jewish state for condemnation. Rebordinos and Pérez are not simply expressing concern for Palestinians. They are amplifying a narrative that isolates Jews, delegitimizes Israel’s right to self-defense, and aligns cultural institutions with the justifications of Islamist terror. This is antisemitism. Such declarations poison the very purpose of cinema as a bridge between peoples. Instead, they turn culture into a platform for hatred, and in doing so they betray both history and conscience. Euskara Kultura antisemitismoaren maskara bihurtzen denean Spain's Strategy Toward the Holocaust: A Chameleon in the Warmest Sun Haserre biziz nago José Luis Rebordinos eta Ruth Pérez jaiek jaialdiaren prentsaurrekoan egindako adierazpenagatik. Israel “genozidio eta sarraski imajinaezinen” egile nagusi gisa aurkeztean, eta Hamasek 2023ko urriaren 7an egindako terrorismo basatia aipamen hutsal batera murriztean, diskurtso argi eta garbi antisemitikoa bultzatu dute. Ez da giza eskubideen aldeko adierazpen neutrala. Europako aurreiritzi zaharrena da, kulturaren eta justiziaren hizkeraz mozorrotua. Behin eta berriz, Europako burgesia zinemak terroristen alde egiten du: atzo Kubako Iraultza, gero ETA, eta gaur Hamas—bitartean, estatu judua bakarrik zigortuz. Rebordinos eta Pérez ez dira palestinarren aldeko kezka soil bat adierazten ari. Juduak isolatzen dituen kontakizun bat indartzen ari dira, Israel bere burua defendatzeko zilegitasunik gabe uzten, eta erakunde kulturalak terrorismo islamistaren justifikazioekin lerrokatzen. Hau antisemitismoa da. Horrelako adierazpenek pozoitu egiten dute zinemaren benetako xedea: herrien arteko zubi izatea. Horren ordez, kultura gorrotoaren plataforma bihurtzen dute, eta horrela traizionatzen dituzte bai historia bai kontzientzia. Castillian Cuando la cultura se convierte en máscara del antisemitismo Spain's Strategy Toward the Holocaust: A Chameleon in the Warmest Sun Me indigna profundamente la declaración realizada en la rueda de prensa del festival por José Luis Rebordinos y Ruth Pérez. Al presentar a Israel como principal responsable de “genocidio y masacres inimaginables” y reducir las atrocidades terroristas perpetradas por Hamás el 7 de octubre de 2023 a una mera nota al pie, han adoptado y promovido una retórica inconfundiblemente antisemita. No se trata de una defensa neutral de los derechos humanos. Es el prejuicio más viejo de Europa, disfrazado con el lenguaje de la cultura y de la justicia. Una vez más, el cine privilegiado de la burguesía europea toma partido por el terror: ayer la Revolución Cubana, después ETA, y hoy Hamás, mientras se señala únicamente al Estado judío para ser condenado. Rebordinos y Pérez no están simplemente expresando preocupación por los palestinos. Están amplificando un relato que aísla a los judíos, deslegitima el derecho de Israel a defenderse y alinea a las instituciones culturales con las justificaciones del terrorismo islamista. Eso es antisemitismo. Tales declaraciones envenenan la verdadera misión del cine como puente entre pueblos. En su lugar, convierten la cultura en una plataforma del odio y, al hacerlo, traicionan tanto a la historia como a la conciencia.
- Tiffany: Arlington St. Church, Boston, Massachusetts
Frederick Wilson: The Poet of Glass NOTES FOR A DOCUMENTARY FILM Arlington Street Church, Boston The Foundation of Vision In 1861, when Arlington Street Church first rose from the muddy landfill of Boston's new Back Bay district, architect Arthur Gilman could hardly have envisioned the chromatic revolution that would transform his creation decades later. Resting on 999 pilings driven deep into reclaimed marshland, the church's brownstone ashlar walls and soaring 190-foot spire—modeled after London's St Martin-in-the-Fields—established it as the first and most distinguished building in this ambitious urban expansion. Gilman's design helped initiate America's first architectural revival, but it was the marriage of this structural foundation with Louis Comfort Tiffany's artistry that would create something unprecedented: a cathedral of color that speaks in whispers of light. Before we explore this transformation, two essential clarifications demand our attention—misconceptions that cloud our understanding of virtually every Tiffany discussion. First, Louis Comfort Tiffany, whose glass work we celebrate in these pages, was not the Fifth Avenue jeweler whose landmark windows still draw the wealthy from across the globe. That was his father, Charles Lewis Tiffany. The son, initially pursuing painting, discovered in glass the perfect medium to express his profound admiration for nature and beauty. Second, and perhaps more crucial to our story: Louis Comfort Tiffany was not merely an artist but an industrialist who transformed American glassmaking into a branded empire. He surrounded himself with extraordinarily capable men and women—artists in their own right who lent their individual talents to his collective vision. When we encounter the Tiffany name, we should understand that behind every piece—whether the smallest vase, the iconic lamps that defined Art Nouveau sensibilities, a simple sugar bowl, an ornate doorknob, a soaring church window, or even the massive twenty-seven-ton curtain created for Mexico City's National Theatre—stand dozens of artists and artisans whose individual genius contributed to that singular brand. This collaborative reality makes the work no less magnificent; it makes it more extraordinary. The Tiffany Studios represented something unprecedented: industrial-scale production that never sacrificed artistic integrity, a workshop system that elevated craft to fine art while maintaining the highest standards of design and execution. The Partnership of Lifetimes Between 1898 and 1933—spanning thirty-five years until Tiffany's death—Arlington Street Church commissioned what would become the largest collection of single-themed Tiffany windows in the world. Sixteen magnificent panels, conceived and executed as a unified narrative, demonstrate what becomes possible when patronage extends beyond individual commissions to embrace a complete artistic vision. The commission wasn't intended just to keep up with a trend as buildings and particularly churches sought to keep up with the forces unleashed during the Chicago Exposition when the ideal of greater and more beautiful cities emerged with the force of a thousand Goliaths, it was about finding an equilibrium in integration at its most profound—each window designed in conscious dialogue with both the building's neoclassical bones and its neighboring panels, creating an environment where structure and ornament reach perfect synthesis. Frederick Wilson: The Poet of Glass Behind the collection of windows at Arlington Street Church in Boston stands Frederick Wilson (1858-1932), Tiffany's chief ecclesiastical designer. Wilson was an Englishman trained as a classical painter in Renaissance masterworks, medieval illuminations, anatomy, and the revolutionary visions of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. When American demand for stained glass drew him to New York in 1892, he brought with him this encyclopedic visual vocabulary to Tiffany Studios, and by 1899, he had become the studio's premier designer of ecclesiastical windows. Frederick Wilson Wilson's fascination with nature, a passion he shared with the company founder, is evident in his meticulous studies and observations. Wilson spent hours sketching the delicate architecture of heron and crane feathers, translating these observations into the gossamer wings of his celebrated angels. At Arlington Street Church, his signature accomplishments shine forth: complex groupings of figures that seem to breathe with life, and angelic forms that appear to move within their luminous confines. The Poetry of Materials Confetti and Cascades: Wilson's artistry reveals itself first in his treatment of what Tiffany called "confetti glass"—those seemingly scattered fragments that, viewed from the proper distance, resolve into coherent fields of color. Like pointillist paintings translated into light, these passages demonstrate Wilson's understanding that stained glass operates simultaneously as intimate craft and monumental art. Drapery in Light: The flowing robes and vestments in Wilson's windows accomplish something extraordinary: they capture the weight and movement of fabric while remaining pure, weightless light. Each fold is a study in how transparency can suggest opacity. The drapery doesn't merely clothe his figures—it choreographs them, creating rhythm and flow across the architectural space. We've seen such wonders in the marble details of Michelangelo's carvings. However, glass is an entirely different proposition and one can't help but observe and marvel. Faces, Hands, and Feet: Wilson's figures possess an uncanny humanity reached through his painter's learned understanding of anatomy. Faces emerge from the colored light with expressions both timeless and immediate. Hands gesture with the precision of Renaissance drawings, while feet ground his celestial figures in believable human form. This attention to corporeal detail transforms religious iconography into intimate human encounter, rendering the celestial earthly and tangible. The Whisper of Soft Colors: Perhaps most striking is Wilson's palette—those soft, pastel tones that seem to suggest rather than proclaim. Where other stained glass windows might shout their presence, Arlington Street Church's panels speak in gentle terms. Muted roses blend with silvery blues, golden ambers merge with sage greens, creating an atmosphere of contemplative serenity that invites prolonged viewing rather than demanding immediate attention. Tiffany at Arlington St. Church: The Unintended Rainbow In 1955, twenty years after the installation of the final Tiffany window, a magnificent organ was donated to the church. The timing creates one of those poetic accidents that seem almost too perfect to be coincidental. Now, during services, the organ's reverberations compete graciously with the color waves flowing through Wilson's glass, creating a synesthetic experience where sound and light reach ideal partnership. The Unitarian Universalist congregation that calls Arlington Street Church home has embraced what might be called an unintended rainbow coalition—not planned, certainly not foreseeable when the first window was commissioned, but utterly natural to a sanctuary where color meant everything. The inclusive theology finds perfect expression in Wilson's spectrum of soft hues, each distinct yet harmoniously integrated with the whole. Integration as Sacred Principle Standing within Arlington Street Church today, surrounded by Wilson's luminous narrative, one experiences integration as both architectural principle and spiritual practice. The windows don't simply occupy openings in Gilman's walls—they transform those walls into permeable boundaries between interior and exterior, earthly and celestial, individual experience and collective worship. Here stands proof of what becomes possible when artistic vision aligns with architectural purpose across decades of sustained collaboration. Wilson's windows didn't merely decorate Gilman's church; they completed it, revealing potentials present in the original 1861 design but invisible until touched by colored light thirty-seven years later. This patient evolution—from Gilman's neoclassical foundation through Wilson's chromatic transformation—embodies something quintessentially American: the willingness to build upon existing foundations rather than abandon them, to honor the past while embracing new possibilities. Arlington Street Church represents continuity and innovation in perfect balance. The soft colors that suffuse the space speak to a different kind of sacred experience—not the overwhelming sublime of Gothic cathedrals, but the gentle invitation to contemplation, to quiet conversation with the divine conducted in whispers of rose and amber, blue and gold. In Arlington Street Church, Frederick Wilson created something rare in the history of decorative arts: the complete integration of individual genius with architectural vision, forming a space where every element—stone and glass, light and sound, structure and ornament—contributes to a unified whole that exceeds the sum of its magnificent parts. Tiffany in the Wild is a documentary journey into the stained glass and mosaics of Louis Comfort Tiffany, experienced as they were meant to be seen — in the churches, cemeteries, libraries, and civic landmarks where they continue to interact with light, space, and community. From Boston’s Arlington Street Church to New York’s Woodlawn Cemetery, from Philadelphia’s Dream Garden to the stage curtain of Mexico City’s Palacio de Bellas Artes, the film follows Tiffany’s art across borders and through time. It concludes in Chicago beneath the vast mosaic dome of Marshall Field’s, where commerce itself was transformed into civic theater. More than a study of decorative glass, Tiffany in the Wild is a meditation on how art and light shape the way we worship, learn, remember, and live together.
- The Piccirilli Factor to Screen at Calandra in New York
The Piccirilli Factor will be part of the Fall 2025 Film & Video Series at the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute , Queens College, CUNY. The screening is scheduled for Tuesday, October 7, 2025, at 6 PM, in Manhattan. (RSVP) Screening at the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, Queens College, CUNY. This feature-length documentary by Eduardo Montes-Bradley explores the legacy of the Piccirilli Brothers, Italian American sculptors who helped shape New York City’s monumental identity through their exceptional craftsmanship. From their Bronx studio, the Piccirilli brought to life national symbols like the Lincoln Memorial, and many others that still define our civic spaces today. Through archival materials, expert interviews, and on-site research, the film traces how these artisans contributed to the City Beautiful movement and the broader story of American urban and artistic development. the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, Queens College, CUNY. Following the screening, there will be a discussion with director Eduardo Montes-Bradley and Joseph Sciorra of the Calandra Institute, whose involvement with the film began in its earliest stages. Sciorra's perspective will add depth to the conversation on the cultural and historical importance of the Piccirilli Brothers , particularly within the context of New York City, where so much of their work remains on view in public spaces. THE PICCIRILLI FACTOR to Screen at CALANDRA in New York MARK YOUR CALENDAR: The event is free and open to the public, but seating is limited to 60 attendees. Please be sure to RSVP by calling (212) 642-2094. Special thanks to the many voices and collaborators who made this project possible, including Thayer Tolles , Ruffin Collins, Michele Bogart , Michele Cohen, and others who have contributed generously to bringing this story to light. A film made possible with the financial support of The Joseph and Robert Cornell Memorial Foundation , Morris and Alma Schapiro Fund , Columbus Citizens Foundation , Tiro a Segno Foundation , Brock Family Fund .
- Unearthing Stories at Woodlawn with a Alice Cooney Frelinghuysen
Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, New York, isn't just a final resting place; it's a sprawling outdoor museum, a testament to lives lived, and a repository of history. This video offers an extraordinarily rare and personal glimpse into its depths, guided by Alice Cooney Frelinghuysen , the Anthony W. and Lulu C. Wang Curator of American Decorative Arts at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Alice shares her deep passion for stained glass and the extraordinary collection at Woodlawn—boasting some 1200 mausoleums featuring stained glass . Her connection to Woodlawn began years ago when a publication of hers, featuring a design drawing from the Met's collection, led to the discovery that the corresponding window was, in fact, at Woodlawn, unknown to her at the time. Unearthing Stories at Woodlawn with a Alice Cooney Frelinghuysen She humorously recounts her first unplanned visit, stemming from her mother-in-law's desire to be buried in the family mausoleum at Woodlawn. Upon arriving, she unexpectedly met Susan, a Woodlawn representative, who then led her to the mausoleum. It was there, upon examining the back of the family's monument, that Alice had a stunning realization: "Oh my gosh, this is a Tiffany window !"—a detail her mother-in-law had never mentioned. Though now poorly repaired, this discovery sparked a profound interest. This initial encounter led to a pivotal invitation from Susan: "She unlocked for me some 50 mausoleums in one afternoon!" Alice describes the exhilarating experience of dashing around, struck by the beauty and scale of what she was seeing. Even as light faded, Susan would open the mausoleums, clear away webs and leaves, and illuminate the glass from behind with a flashlight, revealing their hidden splendor. It was in these moments that Alice truly grasped the immense importance and unique significance of Woodlawn's stained glass collection. The conversation delves into the enormously ambitious project now underway to document these windows, both art historically and from a conservation perspective. Alice highlights the critical need for this work, recalling instances of severe damage, like putting her finger through a scale in the gorgeous Gallatin window within a McKim, Mead & White mausoleum. She also touches on past security challenges, noting that "a lot of windows were stolen in the 1980s—great Tiffany landscape windows primarily." This meticulous documentation is the crucial first step, providing Woodlawn with the materials needed to reach out to family members, inform them of the windows' dire shape, and initiate conservation efforts. Ultimately, this vital work is contributing to an extraordinary database of stained glass in America. Tiffany in the Wild is a documentary journey into the stained glass and mosaics of Louis Comfort Tiffany, experienced as they were meant to be seen — in the churches, cemeteries, libraries, and civic landmarks where they continue to interact with light, space, and community. From Boston’s Arlington Street Church to New York’s Woodlawn Cemetery, from Philadelphia’s Dream Garden to the stage curtain of Mexico City’s Palacio de Bellas Artes, the film follows Tiffany’s art across borders and through time. It concludes in Chicago beneath the vast mosaic dome of Marshall Field’s, where commerce itself was transformed into civic theater. More than a study of decorative glass, Tiffany in the Wild is a meditation on how art and light shape the way we worship, learn, remember, and live together.
- Tiffany in the Wild: Capturing Louis Comfort Tiffany’s Living Art
Last November, I stood in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, mesmerized by a Louis Comfort Tiffany stained glass window. It glowed like a captured butterfly—radiant, but stilled, no longer dancing with the sunlight it was born to catch. At the unveiling, expert Alice Cooney Frelinghuysen spoke of its craftsmanship, and I felt a mix of awe and a quiet ache. Museums like the Met, the Morse Museum in Orlando, and the Haworth Art Gallery in England do irreplaceable work, safeguarding Tiffany’s genius for generations. Their care ensures these fragile masterpieces endure, protected from time and neglect. Yet, as I stood there, I couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing—something alive, something wild. These windows were meant to breathe in their original settings, shaping spaces and human moments. That moment sparked a dream: a documentary to chase Tiffany’s art where it still lives, in its natural habitat, before it’s lost forever. Development presentation Beyond the Museum’s Frame Museums are heroes of preservation, meticulously conserving Tiffany’s glass so we can marvel at its beauty. But in their pristine galleries, the windows lose their pulse. Tiffany didn’t craft these pieces for static display—they were designed to transform light, to color sacred rituals, to weave beauty into everyday life. What if we could capture them as they were meant to be? Not as artifacts, but as living art, still embedded in the architecture and stories they were created for? This is the heart of “Tiffany in the Wild,” a documentary vision—one we hope to bring to life if we can raise the funds for such an ambitious journey. It’s a race to find and film Tiffany’s surviving works in their original settings, where they still catch morning light, frame grief, or surprise passersby. These windows and mosaics aren’t just art; they’re experiences, and they’re vanishing. Urban sprawl, decay, or “restoration” efforts often pull these works from their homes, leaving future generations with only museum echoes of Tiffany’s vision. We want to capture them before they’re gone. Tiffany’s Living Canvas Imagine Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, where Tiffany’s windows glow in quiet mausoleums. These aren’t for art critics—they’re for mourners, turning cold stone into warm, sacred spaces. Each window feels intimate, like a whispered comfort in the face of loss. Picture a camera lingering there at dusk, capturing the colors as they shift, blending light and grief into something eternal. Or step into the Curtis Publishing Building in Philadelphia, where Dream Garden , a massive mosaic designed by by Maxfield Frederick Parrish (1870 - 1966), and executed by Tiffany, guards the lobby. Over 100,000 glass pieces in more than 260 color tones catch the chaos of city light—street lamps, sunlight, neon. Employees and strangers pass by it daily, some barely noticing, while others pause to let its beauty sink in. What does it do to you, walking past a genius every day? Does it sharpen your senses, make you expect more from the world? A documentary could frame those fleeting glances, showing the mosaic’s quiet power in a bustling urban scene. Then there’s the Church of the Covenant in Boston, a complete Tiffany interior from 1884, still alive on Newbury Street. Its windows don’t just decorate—they shape worship, their colors deepening with New England’s seasons. Unlike a museum’s still display, these windows ask you to sit with them, to feel the light move. They echo medieval cathedrals, where stained glass told stories as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A camera could trace that slow reveal, tying past to present in a quiet sanctuary. Pratt Institute Library, exterior Pratt Institute Library, interior Pratt Institute Library, interior At the Pratt Institute Library in Brooklyn, Tiffany’s vision goes beyond windows. Built in 1896, this free public library wraps visitors in stone mosaics and Sienna marble columns. It’s an environment that shapes how students think and dream. Imagine filming young artists sketching in that space, their ideas sparked by Tiffany’s belief that beauty belongs in daily life, not locked away for the elite. And in places like Old Blandford Church in Virginia or First Presbyterian in Galveston, Texas, Tiffany’s windows still carry their original weight—memorializing, comforting, elevating. Each site tells a story of art serving life, not just art for art’s sake. A Documentary Dream “Tiffany in the Wild” will weave these locations into a visual tapestry, each a vignette in a larger story—if we can secure the funding to make it happen. We’ll chase the light—how it dances through Tiffany’s glass, how architecture frames it, how people live with it. We’ll dig into the human stories: the patrons who commissioned these works, the artisans who shaped them, the communities that still cherish them. Partnering with places like Woodlawn Cemetery or Philadelphia’s preservation groups, we’ll uncover the stakes of keeping these works alive. Time is against us. Every year, another Tiffany window is removed, another building razed. The 122-year-old window at Second Presbyterian in Chicago was recently restored and returned, but many others vanish forever. This film will document what’s left before it’s gone, showing why context matters as much as the art itself. The Bigger Picture This isn’t just about Tiffany. It’s about how we preserve art in the 21st century. Museums have given us access to masterpieces, and their work is vital. But Tiffany’s art was never just objects—it was light, space, and human connection. By filming these works in the wild, we’ll ask: How do we save not just the art, but the experience? How do we honor artists who wove beauty into the fabric of life? As a filmmaker, I see Tiffany’s windows as scenes in a fading story. In the Bronx, they console. In Boston, they inspire. In Philadelphia, they surprised. My camera will follow these moments, capturing the last wild jewels of American decorative arts before they’re lost to time. “Tiffany in the Wild” is a dream we’re determined to share—if we can rally the support to make it happen. Written in collaboration with Jeffrey Plank Synopsis Museums are guardians of beauty, carefully preserving Tiffany’s stained glass so future generations can marvel at its brilliance. Yet, behind glass cases and gallery walls, something essential is lost: the living pulse of the windows themselves. Tiffany did not design these works to be static relics. They were meant to breathe with light, to sanctify rituals, and to weave radiance into the rhythm of daily life. What if we could see them as they were intended—not as artifacts, but as living art, still rooted in the architecture and stories that gave them meaning? This vision lies at the heart of Tiffany in the Wild , a documentary journey we hope to bring to life with the support to make such an ambitious quest possible. It is a race against time to find and film Tiffany’s surviving works in their original homes—before neglect, development, or decay silence them forever. The journey begins in Boston, at Arlington Street Church , where a luminous ensemble of Tiffany windows still glows above the pews for which they were made. From there, we move to Brooklyn’s Pratt Institute, focusing on the 1896 Pratt Library—a Renaissance Revival treasure where the interiors, crafted by the Tiffany Glass & Decorating Company, still function as a living classroom of design, light, and craft. In Manhattan, the story unfolds at St. Michael’s Church on the Upper West Side , where Tiffany Studios created one of its most dazzling ecclesiastical ensembles. Brilliant stained-glass windows and shimmering mosaics transform both light and stone into a sacred symphony. The path then leads to the Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, home to the largest assemblage of Tiffany funerary glass in the world. From mausolea like the Woolworth complex to the chapel itself, these works remain in dialogue with memory, landscape, and the passage of time. Beyond the United States, the film traces Tiffany’s global reach. In Havana, Cuba, Tiffany Studios left its mark on major commissions—the Presidential Palace (now the Museo de la Revolución) and the grand residence of Josefina de Mesa y Mariana Seva for President Mario García Menocal, today the Embassy of China. The story then moves to Mexico City, where the Palacio de Bellas Artes houses Tiffany’s legendary stage curtain—composed of nearly one million pieces of glass and weighing 22 tons. This monumental work transforms the valley of Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl into a radiant landscape of light. Original studies for the curtain remain preserved at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, bridging past and present. Finally, the journey returns north to Philadelphia, where the Curtis Building’s lobby holds Dream Garden —a monumental Favrile-glass mosaic designed by Maxfield Parrish and executed by Tiffany Studios. A luminous city-scale collaboration, it reimagines the very nature of public art and stands as the ultimate expression of Tiffany’s vision in dialogue with another great American artist. In the end, Tiffany in the Wild is not only a story about stained glass, but about light itself—its power to sanctify, to console, and to inspire. By returning Tiffany’s works to their original contexts, we aim to let them speak again in the spaces and communities they were created for, reminding us that art is most alive when it is lived with. Tiffany in the Wild is a documentary journey into the stained glass and mosaics of Louis Comfort Tiffany, experienced as they were meant to be seen — in the churches, cemeteries, libraries, and civic landmarks where they continue to interact with light, space, and community. From Boston’s Arlington Street Church to New York’s Woodlawn Cemetery, from Philadelphia’s Dream Garden to the stage curtain of Mexico City’s Palacio de Bellas Artes, the film follows Tiffany’s art across borders and through time. It concludes in Chicago beneath the vast mosaic dome of Marshall Field’s, where commerce itself was transformed into civic theater. More than a study of decorative glass, Tiffany in the Wild is a meditation on how art and light shape the way we worship, learn, remember, and live together.
- From Divine Light to Domestic Beauty: The Medieval Media Revolution That Changed Everything
How the world’s first broadcast technology evolved into America’s most beloved art form Picture this: You’re a peasant in 1140, stepping into Chartres Cathedral for the first time. Suddenly, the stone walls explode into moving rivers of red and blue light. Biblical stories unfold in glowing panels around you as the “programming” shifts with the sun’s movement. You’re witnessing the world’s most advanced projection system—centuries before anyone dreamed of television. This wasn’t just religious art. Medieval churches had created humanity’s first mass media empire, using sunlight as their transmission medium and colored glass as their broadcast technology. The stained glass windows were literally projection systems, casting programmed content across cathedral interiors to audiences who had never experienced anything remotely like it. But here’s the twist: this revolutionary media technology would eventually escape the church’s monopoly and transform into something completely different—the intimate, nature-inspired beauty of Tiffany lamps glowing in American living rooms. Book Cover The Sacred Trinity of Light Architecture Around 1140, Abbot Suger at Saint-Denis cracked the code for creating truly transcendent experiences. His secret wasn’t just theological—it was technological. He discovered that three elements working in perfect harmony could literally transport human consciousness: Mystical Theology (Divine Source) Suger drew inspiration from Pseudo-Dionysius, who taught that physical light was divine presence made visible. This wasn’t metaphor—medieval thinkers believed actual sunlight streaming through windows could elevate souls toward God. Every ray had spiritual purpose. Suger wrote that his windows should “brighten the minds, so that they may travel, through the true lights, to the True Light where Christ is the true door.” Gothic Architecture (Divine Made Manifest) Gothic architecture became the structural solution that made walls of light possible. Flying buttresses, pointed arches, and ribbed vaults weren’t just beautiful—they were engineering innovations that let architects dissolve solid stone barriers and replace them with luminous glass membranes. Now, for the first time, buildings could be designed around light rather than despite it. Glass Chemistry (Divine Illumination) Medieval craftsmen developed glass-making techniques so sophisticated we’re only now understanding them through electron microscopy. They engineered copper nanoparticles for ruby glass, created multi-layered structures for optimal light transmission, and developed grisaille windows specifically to “introduce a larger amount of light.” These weren’t just artisans—they were optical engineers, guided by faith but grounded in physics. (1) The Science Behind the Sacred Abbot Suger's Saint-Denis Recent analysis reveals the precision underlying medieval intuition. Using high dynamic range imaging, researchers discovered that 12th-century glass admitted significantly more light than 13th-century glass, while 15th-16th century glass increased transmission “by as much as an order of magnitude.” The medieval craftsmen instinctively understood what we now measure scientifically: different glass compositions create dramatically different relationships with natural light . They were engineering specific luminous environments designed to trigger transcendent experiences. The trinity worked because each element served the others. The theology demanded maximum light, which required innovative architecture, which necessitated advanced chemistry. The result was humanity’s first fully immersive experiences —spaces that felt genuinely otherworldly to anyone who entered them. From Divine Light to Domestic Beauty In the 1880s, Louis Comfort Tiffany looking at this 700-year-old tradition would asked: “What if we could bring this magic into people’s daily lives, and into their homes?” The question lead Tiffany to reimagined the medieval trinity for a new world. The Great Transformation From Divine Theology → Personal Aesthetics Instead of channeling God’s presence, Tiffany believed “nature should be the primary source of design inspiration.” His windows captured “the lush palette found in flowers and plants” rather than biblical narratives. Beauty became the new sacred. From Cathedral Architecture → Interior Design Instead of transforming vast sacred spaces, Tiffany focused on “controlling natural and artificial light” in private homes. He decorated Mark Twain’s house, redesigned the White House, and pioneered the concept of lifestyle design—curating personal environments for aesthetic pleasure rather than spiritual transformation. From Sacred Chemistry → Commercial Innovation Instead of mystical craft traditions, Tiffany created systematic production. His studios employed over 300 artisans, becoming “the largest producer of stained-glass windows in the nation,” turning spiritual craft into American industry.(2) Revolutionary Glass Technology Tiffany’s breakthrough was opalescent glass —material that was “radically different from pot metal” and “fabulously varied in color and texture—even within a single piece of glass.” While medieval glass was engineered for maximum transparency (to let divine light flood in), Tiffany’s glass was designed to transform light—diffusing, mixing, and softening it to create intimate ambiance rather than transcendent brightness. His copper foil technique allowed “a level of detail previously unknown,” enabling intricate organic patterns that medieval lead construction couldn’t achieve. Where medieval craftsmen sought clarity and brilliance, Tiffany pursued complexity and subtlety—glass that could “mimic foliage, fabric, water, or a sunlit horizon.” From Collective Transcendence to Personal Beauty The shift was groundbreaking. Medieval light was about surrender to something greater—entire communities gathering to encounter the divine (The exquiscit?) together. Tiffany’s light was about individual comfort and daily aesthetic pleasure. Medieval immersion was designed for spiritual transformation. Tiffany’s immersion was designed for lifestyle enhancement. The Modern Legacy: Why This Evolution Matters Understanding this progression from sacred broadcasting to domestic beauty reveals why both traditions remain essential: The DNA of Experience Design Medieval stained glass pioneered what we now call immersive experience design. Every modern installation—from museum exhibits to theme park attractions—traces its conceptual ancestry back to those 12th-century experiments in environmental storytelling through light. Tiffany democratized that technology, proving that transcendent beauty didn’t require cathedral-scale spaces or religious context. His innovations showed that carefully crafted light could transform any environment, making the extraordinary available in ordinary daily life. Technological Heritage Medieval craftsmen developed copper nanoparticle technology eight centuries before we had scientific vocabulary to understand it. Tiffany pioneered opalescent glass techniques that modern artisans still struggle to replicate. These aren’t just art objects—they’re repositories of lost technologies, frozen laboratories showing us what’s possible when human creativity pushes the boundaries of materials and light. The Evolution of Human Consciousness The journey from Suger’s divine light theology to Tiffany’s domestic aesthetics documents a fundamental shift in how we seek meaning and beauty. Medieval churches taught communities to reach toward transcendence together. Tiffany lamps taught individuals to cultivate beauty in personal daily life. Both approaches remain essential to human flourishing. We still need experiences that lift us beyond ourselves, and we still need beauty that enriches our everyday environments. Preserving the Light: Why “Tiffany in the Wild” Matters Original Tiffany pieces surviving in their intended environments—private homes, historic buildings, unexpected public spaces—preserve something museums can’t replicate: the complete experience as originally conceived. A Tiffany window catching natural light in its original domestic setting creates entirely different optical effects than the same piece under artificial museum lighting. These “wild” installations continue evolving naturally, developing patinas and light relationships that teach us about long-term material behavior. Moreover, they preserve the full ecosystem of Tiffany’s vision: not just the glass object, but the architectural context, natural light patterns, and intimate scale that made his domestic revolution possible. When we lose these works, we lose more than beautiful objects. We lose functioning examples of humanity’s ongoing quest to make light serve beauty, meaning, and wonder—whether in medieval cathedrals designed to channel divine presence or Tiffany lamps crafted to bring nature’s beauty into our homes. The light that first broadcast divine messages at Saint-Denis in 1140 continues transmitting today in every original Tiffany piece still glowing in someone’s living room. Both traditions deserve our protection, study, and amazement—reminders that humans have always found ways to make light itself a carrier of beauty and meaning. Notes Kunicki-Goldfinger et al. in Journal of Archaeological Science and Dörfler et al. on copper nanoparticles in Optical Materials . Metropolitan Museum's official publication stating that Tiffany Glass Company was "the largest producer of stained-glass windows in the nation" in the 1880s. Tiffany in the Wild is a documentary journey into the stained glass and mosaics of Louis Comfort Tiffany, experienced as they were meant to be seen — in the churches, cemeteries, libraries, and civic landmarks where they continue to interact with light, space, and community. From Boston’s Arlington Street Church to New York’s Woodlawn Cemetery, from Philadelphia’s Dream Garden to the stage curtain of Mexico City’s Palacio de Bellas Artes, the film follows Tiffany’s art across borders and through time. It concludes in Chicago beneath the vast mosaic dome of Marshall Field’s, where commerce itself was transformed into civic theater. More than a study of decorative glass, Tiffany in the Wild is a meditation on how art and light shape the way we worship, learn, remember, and live together.
- Tiffany: Names and Faces I Want to Remember.
Notes for a Documentary Film The Tiffany Boys Tiffany Studios flourished through the collective brilliance of its diverse workforce. The “Tiffany Girls” movement has rightfully spotlighted the contributions of women designers, but a complete picture of the studio’s legacy demands recognition of the talented men and women who worked side by side. This exploration celebrates the collaborative synergy of artists, craftsmen, and innovators who together forged Tiffany’s legendary success. These are the names and faces I want to remember as I move forward in the production of Tiffany in the Wild , a documentary film. Joseph Briggs (1867–1941) - The Accrington Innovator Born in Accrington, England, Joseph Briggs rose from errand boy to studio foreman and eventually led Tiffany Studios. An accomplished mosaic craftsman, Briggs played a critical role in shaping the studio’s artistic direction. His contributions, long underappreciated, were essential to the intricate mosaic work that complemented Tiffany’s glass creations. Joseph Briggs Clara Driscoll (1861–1944) - Visionary Designer of Leaded Glass As head of the Women’s Glass Cutting Department, Clara Driscoll was a creative force behind many of Tiffany’s iconic leaded-glass lamps, including the beloved Wisteria and Dragonfly designs. Her innovative designs and leadership in crafting intricate lamps and mosaics were pivotal to the studio’s aesthetic achievements, blending seamlessly with the technical expertise of her colleagues. Clara Driscoll in a workroom with Joseph Briggs (1901). Julia Halsey Munson (1874–1938) - Master of Enamels and Jewelry Julia Halsey Munson brought her exceptional talent to Tiffany Studios, excelling in the design of enamels and jewelry. Her intricate work added a distinctive elegance to the studio’s output, complementing the glass and mosaic creations with her meticulous craftsmanship and artistic vision. Arthur J. Nash (c.1849–1934) - Master Glass Chemist and Partner Arthur J. Nash, an English glass chemist from Stourbridge, Worcestershire, brought unparalleled expertise to Tiffany Studios. Recruited by Louis Comfort Tiffany, Nash managed Tiffany Furnaces and pioneered the favrile glass technique, creating the studio’s signature vibrant colors and luminous effects through metallic oxides. His leadership attracted skilled English artisans, strengthening the studio’s technical foundation. When Nash retired after 1918, the secrets to Tiffany’s most complex glassmaking techniques retired with him. Frederick Wilson (1858–1932) - Chief Ecclesiastical Designer Frederick Wilson, a British stained glass artist, joined Tiffany Studios in 1893 and became head of the Ecclesiastical Department by 1899. Over three decades, he designed over 500 windows, producing elegant sketches and watercolors that defined American ecclesiastical stained glass at the turn of the 20th century. His artistic vision and technical precision elevated Tiffany’s sacred commissions. Design for beatitude window for Arlington Street Church by Frederick Wilson Frederick Wilson Andrea Boldini - Venetian Glass Maestro Venetian-born Andrea Boldini brought Old World craftsmanship to Tiffany’s early glassmaking ventures. Inspired by Venetian glassmaker Antonio Salviati, Boldini collaborated with Tiffany in 1878 to establish a glass house. Though their partnership ended after two fires, Boldini’s expertise in Venetian glass techniques helped lay the foundation for Tiffany’s innovative glass production. Parker McIlhenny - Iridescent Glass Pioneer Parker McIlhenny’s chemical expertise was key to perfecting Tiffany’s iconic iridescent glass. Working with Louis Comfort Tiffany and designer Patricia Gay, McIlhenny developed formulas that gave Tiffany’s jewelry and glasswork their distinctive shimmering quality, a hallmark of the studio’s aesthetic. Dr. Parker McIlhenny A. Douglas Nash and Leslie Nash - Second-Generation Innovators Arthur J. Nash’s sons, A. Douglas and Leslie Nash, carried forward their father’s legacy. Leslie, a talented designer, made his mark during the waning years of Tiffany Furnaces. In 1922, inspired by the discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb, Leslie collaborated with Tiffany to create an elaborate special-order piece, showcasing the studio’s ability to adapt ancient motifs to modern artistry. Leslie E. Nash Henry Salzer (1879–1943) - Master Craftsman of Leaded Glass Henry Salzer, a skilled workman at Tiffany Studios, contributed to the studio’s iconic leaded-glass creations, notably through his work on copper patterns for decorative lamp screens, such as the dragonfly design. His craftsmanship ensured the precision and quality of Tiffany’s intricate glasswork, complementing the artistic designs of his peers. Henry Salzer A Collaborative Legacy By 1902, Tiffany Studios was a hub of creative talent, with Louis C. Tiffany leading a team of gifted artisans: Clara Driscoll in leaded-glass lamps and mosaics, Julia Halsey Munson in enamels and jewelry, Arthur J. Nash in glass chemistry, and Frederick Wilson in ecclesiastical windows. Lamp Shop, (From Rebel in Glass, Robert Koch) The Crew This diverse group, blending artistic innovation and technical mastery, exemplifies the studio’s collaborative ethos. Men and women contributed specialized skills—Driscoll’s and Munson’s intricate designs complemented Nash’s glass innovations and Wilson’s grand windows—creating a synthesis that propelled Tiffany Studios to unparalleled heights. Honoring the full spectrum of talent at Tiffany Studios—men and women alike—paints a richer, more honest picture of its legacy. By celebrating this collaboration, we recognize the collective genius that made Tiffany Studios a beacon of American artistry. Bibliography Rakow Research Library of The Corning Museum of Glass Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico Robert Koch, Rebel in Glass Tiffany in the Wild is a documentary journey into the stained glass and mosaics of Louis Comfort Tiffany, experienced as they were meant to be seen — in the churches, cemeteries, libraries, and civic landmarks where they continue to interact with light, space, and community. From Boston’s Arlington Street Church to New York’s Woodlawn Cemetery, from Philadelphia’s Dream Garden to the stage curtain of Mexico City’s Palacio de Bellas Artes, the film follows Tiffany’s art across borders and through time. It concludes in Chicago beneath the vast mosaic dome of Marshall Field’s, where commerce itself was transformed into civic theater. More than a study of decorative glass, Tiffany in the Wild is a meditation on how art and light shape the way we worship, learn, remember, and live together.















