As my father, the Rev David John Balchin, thundered away at the pulpit, excoriating the innumerous vices of the secular world and warning us away from eternal damnation, I would lie as languidly as possible on the straight-back chairs and try to distract myself by reviewing the aesthetic merits of my surroundings.
There were the old threadbare carpets, the battered pews, a slightly neglected baptismal font (our congregations were primarily septuagenarians or older), and, if I was lucky, a dusty hand-embroidered banner from the ’80s. I suppose this minimalism was intentional; I have a sneaking suspicion the architects of these church halls wanted inattentive occupants like me to focus on the preaching rather than paintings of cherubs or intricate wooden carvings.
But I am a fan of ecclesiastical art — in fact, you could say I am something of an aficionado. I love the richly coloured vestments of Catholic priests, the glittery tiles of Eastern Orthodox murals, the gnarly crucifixes, the gilded icons, the sacred relics of long-dead saints. I am transfixed by the soft glow of candles in a cathedral, the glorious stained glass windows, the fiendish gargoyles, the columns and arches. I have spent hours marvelling at the flying buttresses of Notre-Dame, the rich symbolism of the Ghent Altarpiece, the pathos of the Madonna della Pieta.
And so, when my best friend suggested a tour of a beautifully painted idiosyncratic church just around the corner from my place in Edinburgh, I leapt at the chance. Located at the base of Broughton St, the Mansfield Traquair Centre was designed by the architect Sir Robert Rowand Anderson and finished in 1895. It originally existed as a Catholic apostolic church and is now a wedding venue and office base. In the 1990s, it housed Cafe Graffiti, a smoky, candle-lit nightclub where Cirque du Soleil dancers swung from the ribbons strung some 18m up in the chancel.
But its most notable feature is the glorious mural decoration created by the artist Phoebe Anna Traquair (nee Moss) during the 1890s. It is for these artworks that the site is known as "Edinburgh’s Sistine Chapel". Traquair’s murals are a dazzling display of light and colour, heavily influenced by Italian Renaissance painters , Celtic illuminated manuscripts, and the Arts and Crafts movement.
Traquair was born in Dublin, the third daughter of physician Dr William Moss and his wife Teresa Richardson. She was well educated and well travelled for a woman of her time, and in 1873 she married Scottish palaeontologist Dr Ramsay Traquair in 1873, moving with him to Edinburgh the following year.
Traqauir was something of a Renaissance woman. Alongside her mural work (not to mention raising three children), she wove highly detailed tapestries, designed jewellery and furniture, created beautifully enamelled trinkets, decorative panels and illustrated books. She made substantial contributions to the advancement of decorative art in public spaces, notably through her murals at the Royal Hospital for Sick Children.
Traquair’s artwork frequently incorporated themes of spirituality, mythology and the natural world. She cultivated a distinctive style, marked by a modern, romantic flair and a vibrant, bold use of colour, with a strong emphasis on intricate calligraphy and ornate border designs.
She was also a scientific illustrator; her romance with Ramsay began when she was assigned the task of providing fossil fish illustrations for the young palaeontologist, who was at the time the keeper of the museum at the Royal Dublin Society. She continued to provide detailed illustrations for her husband’s research papers until he retired in 1906. Most notably, she achieved all this during the Victorian era, a period when societal expectations restricted female artists to domestic roles, and their work was rarely acknowledged.
In 1892, she received a commission to adorn the interior of the Catholic apostolic church with religious murals. The church supplied the scaffolding, covered the expenses for her tools and materials, and compensated her with an undisclosed fee — marking the first time Traquair was paid for her work. She started the mural project in 1893 and finished it in 1901. She spent eight years of her life painting this church — a Herculean effort by any standard.
She began with several layers of zinc white pigment mixed with oil and turpentine, creating a bright, textured ground for the charcoal-based preliminary sketch (traces of which can still be seen in places). This texture enhanced light reflection, adding vibrancy to the colours applied later. She then mixed heated beeswax with turpentine and oil paint, allowing for quick application and creating a luminous, translucent quality once dried. Paint layers were thinly applied to let the white underlayer shine through, and highlights were achieved by removing paint with a rag.
The murals depict an array of apocalyptic and biblical scenes, from Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden to Joseph’s wild dreams, from Pentecost to the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins, all surrounded by a host of angels, cherubim, apostles, and prophets. An abundance of rainbows shimmer overhead.
My favourite mural is on the chancel arch, which stands an impressive 19m high. Traquair has depicted four large cherubim, each representing a Catholic apostolic ministry order: an evangelist with a bible, an apostle with a crown, a prophet with a harp, and a pastoral cherub with a lamb and staff. The colours are breathtaking.
Traquair died on August 4, 1936, at the age of 84, and was laid to rest next to her husband in Colinton Churchyard. In her obituary for The Times, Sir James Caw, the former director of the National Galleries of Scotland, described her as "a little woman and sparely built but overflowing with nervous energy [whose] ... artistic activities were remarkable both in extent and quality".
Her brilliance was soon largely forgotten, however; her murals were left to crumble and evolving artistic sensibilities soon overshadowed her distinctive style. It wasn’t until the early 1990s that her legacy was revived, although she is still not as well known or celebrated as she ought to be.
I went home after the tour and slept for a few hours, all tuckered out from the kaleidoscope of colours and patterns I had just witnessed. I dreamt of angels, rainbows, floods and sheaves of grain. I dreamt of the burning bush, the four horsemen, and The Last Judgement. It was glorious and terrifying in equal measures.
But more importantly, I left the church with a newfound interest in, and respect for, Traquair. She was a visionary, a pioneer, a woman ahead of her time. I can’t wait to discover more of her art.
— Jean Balchin is an ODT columnist who has started a new life in Edinburgh.
