A Window Into Whitechapel
To some, stained glass is an archaic art form. To most, stained glass is not an art form at all but a relic of old churches. But among the oddities of Whitechapel Library are these remarkable works of art. If you have ever glanced away from your books, you might notice these radiant windows, each casting its own glow upon the Library and the learners below, blending together as one. The warmth of the glow will depend very much upon when you are there; at the break of dawn or in twilight hours, as the light shifts from warm to cool tones, each hour, there is a new piece to enjoy.
Designed in the late 20th century, as the old church was converted into the medical school’s new library, the intricate designs of the windows and the innovative methods employed highlight a peculiar yet wondrous union of religious artwork and scientific subjects, of traditional expressions of beauty and the embrace of pioneering medical research.
I spoke to Caroline Swash, a stained glass artist and wife of Professor Michael Swash, Professor of Neurology at the School at the time and who first proposed these windows for the Library, to find out more.
The Influenza Window
Title: The Influenza Pandemic Window - Heroes and Heroines of 1918-1919
Donor: John Travers Clarke of Retroscreen Virology Ltd (who supported leading virologist Professor John Oxford with his research)
Number in Series: #7
Artist: Johannes Schreiter
It is only the dead who have seen the end of war. But it is not only at the battlefront where the consequences are felt. And it is not only during wartime when the consequences are felt. What about those who do not fall? Do they see the end of war in peace, rather than death?
It is only the dead who have seen the end of war. The First World War showed truly the extensive devastation which can result. For while the armistice was signed at Le Francport in France on the 11th of November 1918, and the soldiers who were still clinging to life returned home, they did not return home alone.
They carried with them the demons of war, physical and mental alike. And it was these demons who wrought the most significant damage in the aftermath of the Great War. The soldiers returned home happy, they greeted their families with love, with cheer, with smiles. And the demons smiled as they were let loose.
It was after the First World War where issues such as PTSD were first identified, then described as shell shock. And it was also after the First World War where the true horrors of influenza were recognized. For when the soldiers returned home, back to their villages and communities, nobody was spared from the demons who had joined them at the battlefront.
It might seem that to those who had survived the nightmare of war, the flu would be a trivial matter. And so the healers, powerless during the War, hoped that they would heal. But before long, death tolls rose and hope was replaced by mourning. Eventually new hope dawned in the place of mourning, but not before millions had died.
We recognize the services of fallen soldiers in the Great War. We solemnly mark its centenary and consider its lessons. We dedicate tombs to the unknown soldier. But here finally, is a monument to those unknown heroes and heroines of the influenza pandemic, just as cruelly claimed as the casualties of the War.
It is in this window, when the light shines through, that we remember not just the soldiers, but those innocent victims of the tragedy of war. It is in this window, when the light shines through, that we remember those nurses and researchers who bravely sacrificed their lives to save the many afflicted. It is in this window, when the light shines through, at the going down of the sun and in the morning, that we will remember them.
Excerpt from Caroline Swash’s “Medical Science and Stained Glass” on the symbolism:
“Colour in glass has an ancient symbolism particularly in connection with the Church for which red and gold meant triumph, blue the colour of healing and purple the colour of grief and mourning. Schreiter has used blue in this context to suggest the practical and medical help given by people during the pandemic.
Purple is appropriate for the central window, since both the sick and those who nursed them (and subsequently died) are commemorated here. The graph in the window, expressed in tens of thousands, refers diagrammatically to the outbreak of Russian Flu in the 1890s which gave partial immunity to some of the survivors, the quiescent period before the war and the inexorable rise in death in the war’s aftermath. The blood red mark above the fateful year 1919 marks this tragedy.
The white area of glass in the right hand window acts as a ‘healing field’ and suggests the sense of optimism supported by the certainty that molecular science has the capacity to prevent these disasters. The chemical symbol points towards hope, it represents the Neuraminidase compound, a contemporary anti-viral agent.”
Quote from Caroline Swash on the window’s background:
“This was originally the pharmacology window but “the company we were dealing with, they found out somebody had died using this apparently very good psychiatric drug so it absolutely wasn’t usable. And I just didn’t know what to do. And fortunately… And I said, well, maybe we should change the subject (of the window)?
And Johannes was absolutely adamant that it had to be this purple centre to it and that blue. And he practically said “I won’t do anymore, we will keep it clear”. And I said, no, no, no, no, this absolutely won’t work.
Michael found, influenza is the killer flu which killed more people than the First World War. Why does it do that? It could do that again. You have got this shocking statistic and then this blue piece of calm. And then this diagram for the actual formula, that’s the anti-viral agent on right-hand side.
The brackets should have been the other way but I think that Johannes, for the War, he really felt that they had to be underturned, as it was so awful.
Now how the blue came in, I do remember him saying that “I have to have a blue” to balance the windows there, there, and there. Johannes was really very fond of this purple, something very mystical about it.”
A Historical Tangent
The influenza pandemic took the lives of as many as 100 million people worldwide. Many countries suffered as the flu ravaged the battle-weary nations and the malnourished populations around the globe. But it was Spain, neutral during the Great War, who first widely reported on its outbreak. Spain did not keep its population in the dark, as the Allies did out of desperation to maintain post-war morale.
The Spanish flu is evidence of the far-reaching impact of war. But from such a tragedy, hope can spring too, whatever cruel twist of fate it might take. Sir Archibald Garrod served in the First World War as a Consulting Physician in Malta. He survived, but two of his sons did not. And the third, his youngest son, was claimed by the Spanish flu.
The profound effect of these deaths on Garrod led him to avoid the wards and devote himself to laboratory work. It was through this work that he pioneered the field of inborn errors of metabolism, discovering alkaptonuria as one of Garrod’s tetrad of inherited metabolic diseases.
