The Road to Emmaus

The scene in this window is the encounter between the resurrected Jesus and two of his disciples on the road to Emmaus, a story told in Luke 24:13-53. On April 29, 1938, Burnham received the following letter from Dean Emerson:

Your design for the Emmaus window came this morning and I am delighted with it. In fact I am very enthusiastic indeed, both about it’s (sic) composition and it's (sic) color distribution. It would be hard to say whether I would give the palm to the Blessing window or to this window - certainly this one is unusually good.

Burham replied in a letter dated May 3, 1938, which read in part:

It is gratifying to know that you are so enthusiastic over the Emmaus window. I have a feeling that when all the windows are done, it will be difficult to pick out one which is much better than the others. The Emmaus window design is a wholly successful one, I think, both as to composition and to color harmony

.

Burnham continues the correspondence with Emerson on May 31, 1938:

When you arrive at Boston I shall have four completed windows for you to see, and I feel sure that you will be much pleased with them, for there is no water-color rendering which could possibly show their true glorious coloring.

Burnham’s representation of this scene shows a difference from post-resurrection scenes by other artists. Many depictions of the resurrected Jesus reveal the palms of his hands to show that they are marked by the red-colored indentations where they were pierced by nails. In this scene, both palms are revealed but the marks are absent. The two mortals in this window do not have nimbi or halos, letting the viewer know that these men are not apostles. As in all of Burnham's depictions of the adult Jesus in the Trinity windows, Jesus is portrayed as the dominant figure.

In the center of the ventilator is a sunburst, which is an iconographical symbol of Christ, reflecting the prophecy of Malachi (4:2): "But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings... .” Near the apex of the lancet is a pomegranate, a Christian symbol of Resurrection, with its classical association with Proserpine, who returned from the underworld every spring to regenerate the earth. Because of this association with the return of spring and the rejuvenation of the earth, the pomegranate, in Christian art, has become associated with thoughts of hope, immortality, and resurrection. The pomegranate also alludes to the Church because of the inner unity of countless seeds, in one and the same fruit.

Above and around the pomegranate are grapes, vines, and leaves. In general, Burnham's symbolical vocabulary is based in Gothic and Renaissance religious art. For instance, the grapes perhaps denote the "blood of Jesus" in the communion service.

Why Burnham chose to depict a tree or vine that flows out and over the two disciples is not clear. Could he have meant it to be the plantain, which is often seen in Renaissance paintings? This common and lowly plant thrives along roads and pathways. It became known as "way bread' and a symbol of the 'well-trodden path' of the multitude who seek Christ. Or did Burnham put this plant into the scene as a purely decorative element, with its contrasting colors of bright red, bright green, and gold? This plant image lets the viewer know that this scene takes place out of doors, an idea also reinforced by the presence of the road in the foreground. This road, outlined in red, has red and green flowers growing along it.

The image of Jesus contrasts with the images of the two disciples. For example, the two disciples are frowning, looking perplexed, while Jesus' face is serene. In additon, the disciples are shown with head coverings, one a bright, pure, yellow, the other a bright, intense, red. Jesus’ countenance, in contrast, is highlighted by a traditional, tri-radiant nimbus. According to Webber (1939):

The nimbus, which was used in the sixth century and thereafter, was a simple circle of light at first. But it was soon found that some form must be devised in order that even a child might distinguish the Saviour from other figures in the picture or carving. The tri-radiant, or so-called cruciform nimbus was employed. This form shows three bands of light, one vertical and two horizontal. Controversy has raged as to whether these are symbolical of the Holy Trinity, or whether it is intended to represent a Greek Cross, the lower arm of which is concealed by the head of the person to whom it is given. We are inclined to accept the former view...The tri-radiant nimbus must be confined absolutely to one of the Persons of the Holy Trinity, and must never under any circumstances be given to any other being. As a rule, it is confined only to our Saviour ... (p. 157).

In the Burnham Trinity windows, Jesus is always shown wearing the tri-radiant nimbus or halo, depicted in white, with the arms of the cross in red, and with the nimbus itself outlined in various ways, usually with a golden beading.

Burnham's use of primary colors next to each other (the yellow head piece near the yellow, red, and blue of Jesus’ robes) gives a vitality to the scene. The secondary colors, juxtaposed to one another, provide an added intensity of color, especially in the green and orange garments of the middle figure, with an added mauve outer garment next to the green cloak. All the figures have decorative bands on the hems of their garments, and Jesus is also wearing an elaborate cloak. Another decorative band crosses the space behind the three figures.

Unlike the Three Marys window, this scene on the road to Emmaus is full of patterns. The three imposing figures vibrate with color and pattern, as does the background. The figures of the three women in the scene to the left are majestic in color, without any interruption of patterns or decorations. Thus these two scenes, the astonished women and the wondering disciples, make a remarkable contrast in their design.

Burnham uses brilliant complementary colors throughout the north transept aisle series and in other windows as well. Numerous times Dean Emerson calls attention to this. In a letter dated October 6, 1938 he writes to Mr. Burnham:

It is four o'clock on this Thursday afternoon. Three of the windows are in. [Healing, Three Marys and Emmaus]. I'd give a good deal if you were here because I am, frankly, troubled by them. They seem so very much more brilliant here than they did in the Studio - probably in contrast to the large windows, but they stand out so sharply so that they are really a bit theatrical. I have studied them a good deal this afternoon wondering whether we would not need to put some opaque glass in back of them to tone them down. I doubt if the dust, which is bound to gather in a few months, will do it. I am going to experiment tomorrow with some outside glass.

Two days later Emerson adds a postscript to this typed letter in his own hand:

P.S. Saturday. getting used to the windows - they are very [colorful ?]. . I am enthusiastic about them. They are a bit brilliant. Wish you could seem them. Kindest regards....

On October 13, 1938, Burnham answers the Dean's letter:

Upon my return to Boston this morning I find your letter of Oct. 6 and have had the opportunity to talk over the windows with Mr. Aker. The first part of your letter upset me terribly, believing that you were disappointed in that the windows are so brilliant; but your postscript written on Saturday has made me very happy. I am terribly anxious to see them in place and to talk them over with you, and I shall make a special effort to go to Cleveland... .

As you know, we both agreed that the aisle windows should be as brilliant as possible in color, and I can understand that they looked every more brilliant in the church than they did in the studio, due to the fact that the contrast is so marked between these windows and the large windows which are so muddy in color and made almost opaque by the accumulation of dirt.

When Mr. Aker told me that the windows all looked differently, some rather light at times, and others rather dark, due to shadows from buttresses and reflected lights from buildings outside, I was quite pleased; for varying lighting conditions make stained glass windows more alive and interesting. However, after we have had an opportunity of looking them over together, if there are certain windows that appear a little bit too brilliant, we can easily tone them down with pigment on the inside of the glass. This, of course, will not be permanent, but it will certainly last until an accumulation of dirt is deposited on the glass, and from what I have seen of Cleveland, it will surely happen.

No doubt Burnham saw an opportunity here that would temporarily “tone down” the "brilliant" colors long enough for the parishioners and the Dean to get used to them. This discussion carried over into the next January. On January 18, 1939, Emerson wrote Burnham the following:

As regards your own windows, the small ones, there is no doubt but that the drawings are sharp and that the colors are hard. But I think they appear unduly so to a lot of people who have spent years in the Cathedral and have become used to the flowing drawing and lovely pastel shades in the older windows. If we had it to do over again, I think we should try to see how nearly we could come to a correspondence without sacrificing our own sense of true stained glass window values. Whether we can do that in the windows which you are now building, I leave to you. I wish I could see them. I shall almost be tempted to come to Boston again to see how they are getting on. I think the word ‘soft’ is the word that is in people’s mind, they like softer toning. What you can do about it , I do not know. Yours is the wisdom, not mine.

Burnham answered on January 20, 1939:

I have just received your letter of January 18, and I hasten to reply. By the tone of a few letters which you have written concerning the aisle windows now in place, I gather that your parishioners are not wholly satisfied with these windows, believing that they are too harsh in color and that the drawing may be hard.

I am terribly bothered about it, for as you know, I am particularly anxious to please every one if that is possible; but I am sorry to say that stained glass is one of those arts which is so generally misunderstood that people still look for pictures or paintings, rather than symbolic patterns of pure glowing color.

Also, In Trinity Cathedral, your people have lived so long with those large windows, in which there is so much subdued color that they become startled when they see pure brilliant color. Perhaps, to be sure, I erred a little bit when I made these windows by making them so brilliant, but they too in time will be toned down by the Cleveland soot and smoke.

As a matter of fact, in the new windows I know exactly what to do. If you people would like to see something soft, this can easily be done by toning all of the colors with a little more pigment, and this I intend to do. As for the drawing, it surely is in keeping with the medium of stained glass, and the drawing in my windows is one feature which all architects and clergy for whom I have done work commend so highly. Drawings for stained glass should be sharp and definite with vigorous trace lines to delineate from (sic) and detail, such as drapery lines and ornamentation.

Emerson replied on January 27, 1939. Unlike most of his letters to Burnham, this one was hand-written, not typed, so the following rendering involved some interpretation of his script

:

Don’t worry about the windows. We can’t sway everybody - for most people know little about stained glass windows. The drawing suits - me - so that’s that! Maybe we can soften - the colors a bit - to please people - but don’t compromise too much with your ideals.

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