If the eyes are the mirror of the soul, then stained-glass windows might just be the mirrors of the city. If you want to discover this, there is no better place than Metz in France. It is one of our favourite cities. Of course, we are biased because Jan's last name is Metz; not that there is any evidence that the family comes from there. Rather, it has been a reason to visit the city more often, most recently in May 2025. We also cherish the memories of a previous visit with Jan’s parents in 1999.
(which translates as Saint Peter of the Nuns). It is one of the oldest buildings in the city. Founded in the 4th century by the Gallo-Romans, the building was likely used as a public facility, a gymnasium, or part of a thermae, a bath complex. The horizontal bands of brick between the other stones are characteristic of Roman construction and can also be seen here. In the 6th century, the building was restored and repurposed as a convent for women. It remained so until the 16th century.
In the 8th century, churches were built in the Romanesque architectural style, characterised by semicircular arches. This led to a renovation of the church, during which the walls were reduced to half their original height. The interior was divided into a nave with two side aisles separated by an arcade of arches on columns. In the 12th or 13th century, the Romanesque facade on the water side collapsed. The facade was not rebuilt in the same location but rather further inward, with most of the arches being filled in, except for a small door and some windows. This facade can still be seen today.
In the 16th century, during the reign of Henry II, the building was used as a munition’s depot. Gothic vaults that had been added a century earlier were demolished. During the most recent restoration of the building in 1970, as it was converted into a cultural centre, an effort was made to make the various historical layers of the building visible. The oldest windows were bricked up; the high windows in the basilica have colourless glass, allowing the structure of all the walls to be read again. It embodies a church that was closed long ago. The remnants of the abbey walls around the church also bear witness to this. It is remarkable that the building has been allowed to remain so much itself—almost empty, yet open to the public.
Near a historic spot in the city, just a stone's throw from the Germans’ Gate on the eastern side, stands the church at 65 Rue Mazelle. The double city gate was built on the city side in 1230, and just a few metres further, in 1445, the other gate across the Seille River was built in a completely different style. Just before the construction of the first gate, the first stone of the Saint-Maximin church was laid, sometime between the end of the 12th and the beginning of the 13th century. The church is characteristic of the transition from Romanesque to Gothic style. The oldest part of the church is the choir with a heptagonal apse. It is believed that in the 15th century, the church was expanded to include a taller nave with two side aisles and a chapel next to the choir. In 1525, this chapel was significantly renovated to house the tomb of François de Gournay. In line with the fashion of the time, the transition between the church and the chapel was designed with a kind of rood screen featuring lowered arches, decorated with Renaissance motifs. In 1844, the church was expanded on the south side, incorporating the chapel fully into the church building.
The church appears modest from the street side. Upon entering, a serene atmosphere prevails due to the simple structure and absence of statues. You are then completely overwhelmed by the sight of the blue carpeting covering the entire floor. It’s as if heaven has descended; it also absorbs all sound. Once you recover from this initial 'shock', your eyes are drawn to the windows in this church. First, the windows in the raised nave of the church. As you walk further, you see some truly remarkable windows near the choir. These windows were designed by Jean Cocteau (1889–1963). He was a highly versatile artist—poet, novelist, playwright, designer, and filmmaker…one of the most important surrealist artists. He received the commission for the windows in this church by ministerial decree on August 2, 1961.
Jean Cocteau visited this location several times to find inspiration. He had completed the design of fifteen windows when he fell ill and passed away. For the remaining windows, a design featuring a harlequin motif with stars was used. The pastel tones of these windows are also found in the rest of the church’s stained-glass. The first windows were installed after his death, and the church was reopened in 1967. Each window is a work of art. The windows pose riddles. Sometimes you think you understand them—you see recognisable elements like a man with raised arms and a dove—but there are also windows made up more of motifs inspired by plants, animals, or abstract forms. This was apparently Jean Cocteau’s intention and is consistent with his other work. As the brochure puts it: “You must try to grasp both the sacred symbols and the strange and unexpected, to enter the myth and mystery, and to look and listen. Just like poetry.” He is said to have written that with each new creation, the poet dies and is reborn—eventually becoming immortal, leaving behind a work that outlives him. That is exactly what he has done with his work in Saint-Maximin. Many see this work as a precursor to, for example, the art of Keith Haring.
The most striking church in Metz is, of course, the , Saint-Étienne. This is not due to the church's tower, as there is only one and it is relatively low. This is because the cathedral is built on the highest point of the city, and it has the third-highest nave in the country (41.41m), making it visible from many places in the city. The oldest part of the church is located on the side of Place de la Cathédrale. This was the original church, Notre-Dame la Ronde, which was integrated into the cathedral in the 14th century. Additional entrance portals were later added to the exterior in the 19th and 20th centuries. The construction of the nave took about 100 years, from the mid-13th to the mid-14th century. The cathedral's master builder from that period, Pierre Perrat (1340–1400), is buried in the church. The transepts date from the 15th century (north) and 16th century (south), and the choir from the 16th century. The choir has three three-sided chapels, which provide ample space for stained glass windows.
It is the windows in the cathedral that especially stand out. The oldest window in the cathedral dates from the 13th century. Surprisingly, it is placed high in the eastern wall of the southern transept, which was built in the 16th century. It likely comes from one of the original churches on this site that was later demolished. The stained-glass windows depict the life of Saint Paul. The window in the westwork dates from the 14th century and was designed by Hermann de Münster (d. 1390) from Münster, Germany. He was commissioned to design and create the window in 1381, and it was completed four years later. It consists of two rows of eight figures, with a large rose window above them.
In the southern transept, the window is a design by Valentin Bousch (c. 1490–1541). Valentin Bousch was born in Strasbourg and died in Metz. The window was made between 1520 and 1527 and is considered a pinnacle of Renaissance stained-glass art. It covers 424 m², measuring 33.25m high and 12.75m wide. It consists of three rows of eight windows, crowned with an elaborate flamboyant display of smaller windows and a rose window. The colours—especially the deep reds—are breathtaking. The human figures appear quite realistic. It is hard to believe that this immense window is already 500 years old. This designer and glazier, along with his pupils, also created the large windows in the high choir. The Dukes of Lorraine donated three windows when one of their sons, Cardinal Jean IV de Lorraine, became bishop of Metz (1530–1550). These windows are dominated more by blue tones.
The window in the northern transept is slightly older. It dates from 1504. The window is the same size as the one in the southern transept, also structured in three rows of eight panels but now crowned with three smaller rose windows. The designer is Thiébaut de Lixheim (1455–1505). The layout and colours are very different from the windows of Valentin Bousch. The figures are smaller, and the ornaments above the figures, executed in white glass, draw much more attention. As a result, the window’s colour intensity is reduced.
In the 20th century, quite a few new windows were installed in the cathedral. The first window you encounter from the entrance is in the Chapel of the Sacrament on the south side. These windows were designed by Jacques Villon, born Gaston Duchamp (1875–1963), the older brother of Marcel Duchamp. The windows in the cathedral were completed in 1957, when Villon was already over 80 years old. They consist of five windows, each made up of two large panels with a shared upper section. The design features powerful, mostly diagonal lines. A particularly striking element is the depiction of the Last Supper in a vertical window—very unusual. All photos we’ve seen of these windows do not fully capture their real colours. In this chapel, you’ll also find the tomb of the cathedral’s architect.
The main reason many art lovers come to this cathedral is for the stained-glass windows by Marc Chagall(1887–1985). He was born Movsja Shagal in Vitebsk, then part of the Russian Empire, now in Belarus. He was the eldest of nine children in a Jewish herring merchant family. He studied at the art academy in Saint Petersburg, where Jewish citizens needed special permits to live. In 1910, he moved to Paris. His enthusiasm for the Russian Revolution led him back to Russia, where he became the commissar of arts in his hometown. From 1919 to 1922, he was artistic director of the Jewish State Theatre in Moscow, where he painted several murals in the lobby and created stage designs for performances. In 1923, he resettled in Paris. During World War II, he fled with his family via Spain and Portugal to New York in 1941. In 1946, two years after the death of his wife, he returned to Europe and eventually settled in France.
Art experts have attempted to classify Chagall’s work (which includes stained-glass, ceramics, and painting) into a single artistic movement, but that’s a hard thing to do. He drew inspiration from Russian folk art and memories of his childhood. He then combined this with the modern styles he encountered in Paris, resulting in a figurative yet somewhat dreamy style. Biblical scenes and Jewish stories often appear in his work. It was only later in life—when he was already 70 years old—that he learned how to make stained glass windows. These windows can be found in the cathedrals of Reims and Metz, and in St. Stephan’s Church in Mainz. In 1967, he created stained glass windows for the United Nations in New York. The windows in the Metz Cathedral date from the 1960s.
In the ambulatory of the choir, there are two large window panels. Both red-and-blue windows depict scenes from the Book of Genesis. Unlike the very old stained-glass windows, there is more space between the window segments here, which makes each scene stand out more. Above the larger glass elements are flower-shaped windows. In one of these, you can find a depiction of the crucifixion of Jesus.
In the northern transept, Chagall created windows in 1963 for the more western-facing wall. This is a very different window, with a yellow background and depictions of Adam and Eve. In 2008, these windows were severely damaged by vandals, but no traces of that damage remain today. Above them are three more windows by Chagall, made in 1970, featuring flowers and birds in light tones. The fascination with his windows lies in the fact that they can almost be read like a comic strip. There is movement in them, and it’s easier to identify with the human figures than in early Renaissance stained-glass. Apparently, at that time, the church had no issue showing bare bellies.
The cathedral continues to stay contemporary, even in the 21st century. Near the oldest window in the southern transept, you’ll now also find the newest window. In 2022, the South Korean artist Kimsooja, born in 1957, was commissioned to create it. She was selected as the winner after a public tender issued by the regional cultural affairs department. Kimsooja is a multidisciplinary visual artist who embraces the credo: “a work must not be owned but shared by as many people as possible.” The existing diamond-shaped windows have been filled with a traditional Korean colour scheme called ‘Obangsaek.’ The five colours represent the centre and the cardinal directions. In the window—made up of sixteen bays—this results in a sequence that resembles a rainbow.
We had hoped that the use of stained-glass in Metz would not be reserved solely for religious buildings. In many places around the world, you also often find remarkable stained glass in railway stations. It will be helpful for you to know a bit more about the late 19th- and early 20th-century history of Metz before taking you to the current train station. The city of Metz, originally medieval, is not so much preserved in its buildings as it is in its urban structure. The dense fabric and narrow street pattern are still largely remnants of the old city. Naturally, new buildings and squares have been inserted into this structure, but you can still enjoy getting wonderfully lost in it.
Metz was taken by the German Empire after the German victory in the Franco-Prussian War in 1871. Unlike, for example, Georges-Eugène Baron Haussmann’s plan for Paris, there was no attempt here to impose the new era onto the old city. Instead, a new urban extension was designed—the so-called Neustadt or New Town—commissioned by Kaiser Wilhelm II. It is located to the south of the old city and is bordered by the Moselle River, Avenues Joffre and Foch (the old city walls), the railway, and the Seille River. The expansion was connected harmoniously to the old town by means of gardens and paths. This connection has recently been further strengthened by the redesign of Avenue Foch, now featuring a green central lane with bike and pedestrian paths among the trees. The city held a highly strategic position in Europe and began to outgrow itself. It was a prestigious project—the Kaiser wanted to showcase everything Germany excelled at. It has a very different feel from the old town, and you feel more like you're in Germany than in France.
Because of the city’s strategic location on rivers and near the border, it was a logical choice for a fortified city. Under German rule, it became an important garrison town. Many of the barrack buildings from that era can still be found today, especially along both banks of the Moselle. On April 21, 1901, the German emperor gave the order to dismantle the fortifications. In 1902, the urban planning design by Conrad Wahn (1851–1927) was completed. He drew heavily on the book “City Planning According to Artistic Principles” (Der Städtebau nach seinen künstlerischen Grundsätzen) by the Viennese architect and theorist Camillo Sitte (1843–1903). This was combined with the garden city models introduced to Germany by Hermann Muthesius (1861–1927). Parts of the city were sold to private individuals to build homes. In addition, large buildings commissioned by the government were constructed, such as the new train station (1908), a railway post office (1903–1906), another post office (1911), and other prestigious buildings like a Kristallpalast and a guild hall. For those interested in this part of the city’s history, we recommend the booklet Metz 1900–1939, published by Éditions du Patrimoine.
The burned down in 1872, and a was built on Place du Roi-George in 1878 by a Berlin architect. That building still exists but is now harder to recognise as a station. Between 1890 and 1893, the Prince Friedrich-Karl barracks were built on the west side of this square—a large red-brick complex. Due to the city’s military strategic importance, preparations had to be made for potential attacks, and there was a requirement to be able to transport 25,000 troops quickly. For that, a new station had to be built. A competition was announced in 1901, which was won by Jürgen Kröger (1856–1928). This resulted in a station in the neo-roman style with Jugendstil style elements (art nouveau in French). However, the tower was more German in style and typical of the Rhineland. In October 1903, the German Emperor approved the plan, and on August 17, 1908, the station was inaugurated.
It was a building with—for that time—an exceptionally large number of very long platforms at different levels for both passengers and freight. There were also five tunnels to quickly move troops. The station includes an imperial pavilion, accessible through a large wooden door guarded by two lions. This leads to a two-story hall in Byzantine style, richly decorated. In this imperial hall, there is a stained-glass window that pays tribute to Charlemagne. Based on a portrait by Albrecht Dürer, he is depicted as a bearded man seated in the Carolingian chapel of the Aachen Cathedral. Thanks to the connection with French history (Charlemagne), the window was preserved when the French retook the city. Many other ‘German’ elements did not survive that change. The statue of the knight Roland with his shield on the corner of the station building has undergone many transformations after the First and Second World Wars. Unfortunately, the imperial pavilion and the special stained-glass window cannot be visited, as it is now an office building for the French railways and not publicly accessible. Sadly, the main hall of the station contains no notable stained-glass windows.
Metz suffered little damage in World War I. The city's role was primarily to ensure that the wounded were transported behind the front lines. In 1918, all Germans were dismissed, and their positions were taken over by the French. Statues of German heroes disappeared from the city, and eagles vanished from buildings. The emptied buildings were reoccupied, and vacant lots were built upon. The district was completed under French administration with the motto of "unity in diversity."
In a location on the southern edge of the Neustadt (on Rue de Verdun), the Church of was built amidst this diversity. It is the only religious building in this district. Around 1926, there were 6,000 people living in this part of the city, most of them Catholic. There was an urgent need for a local church. It proved difficult to raise enough money, so a decision was made to build a temporary chapel. This was designed by Théophile Dedun as a simple hall church with a low tower, completed in 1930. The church is dedicated to Saint Thérèse of Lisieux (1863–1897), who was canonised in 1925 and is a patron saint of France.
The parish soon received a relic of Saint Thérèse, along with a certificate of authenticity from Rome. This gave real momentum to the ambition of establishing a pilgrimage site. Naturally, a much larger church would be needed for that. In 1932—just two years after the blessing of the temporary chapel—a design competitionwas launched. Twenty-two architects expressed interest, and twelve designs were ultimately submitted. After several voting rounds, the architect M. Emile Besch was selected as the winner.
Interestingly, at that time a letter was submitted by the later designer of the church’s concrete-glass windowsand his son, expressing deep disappointment at the selection of what they called a ‘mediocre architect’ for such an important commission. They published their criticism in the magazine Le Messin. They found support from a professor and several prominent parishioners. This led to a complicated conflict between the parish, the builder, and the city—one that would last for a long time. In the meantime, the selected architect produced three additional designs, but it was to no avail.
At the end of 1935, the parish finally commissioned a different architect, Roger-Henri Expert (1882–1955), to design the church, despite opposition from the bishop. The winning design was a striking concrete church, which appeared very modern for its time. On October 3, 1937, construction was celebrated with the building of the inner choir section adjacent to the existing temporary chapel.
By mid-1939, construction was halted due to growing global tensions that would soon lead to World War II. By then, much of the rough construction of the sacristy was complete, and the formwork for the nave archeswas about one-quarter finished. Construction only resumed in 1950, and the church was officially blessed in 1954. Until that time, the temporary chapel remained in use, and the new church was simply built alongside it. Uniquely, after the new church was consecrated, the temporary chapel was transformed into a cinema—the Salle Spectaculaire, Le Cinema Pax. That building was demolished in 1986.
In the book about the church by Anne-Marie Héber-Suffrin, the building is described in more detail in the chapter with the catchy rhyming title ‘Une architecture sacrée en béton armé’ (‘a sacred building in armed concrete’). As mentioned, it is a unique design. The nave of the church is formed by nine large concrete arches, each 30m high. The arches are wide at the base and taper upward. The facade follows this line and is tilted back at a 9-degree angle. This style is known in France as the ‘ocean liner style,’ a reference to the design of ships. In addition to the flowing lines of the main structure, the choir, chapels, and entrance area along the street are also designed with curved shapes. In old black-and-white photos, one might mistake the building for a very tall airplane hangar. It wasn’t until 1963 that the mast with the cross was added next to the building, making the structure visible from afar.
Once inside, the spatial effect is overwhelming. The walls between the arches are filled with coloured glass-in-concrete windows. The concrete structure holding the coloured glass resembles a net stocking. These windows were designed by Nicolas Untersteller (1900–1967), a French painter born in Stiring-Wendel in Lorraine, when the area was under German control. The end wall and the window above the choir also feature glass-in-concrete. This was still a relatively new technique at the time. Because all the windows were designed by the same artist, they form a harmonious whole. At the intersection between figurative and abstract styles in ecclesiastical window design, the artist found a beautiful balance. You can clearly identify figures and names among more abstract windows and backgrounds. As always, not everyone appreciated this approach.
There are four themes in the glass-in-concrete work: Saint Thérèse in the choir; the suffering and labour of the men of Lorraine; angels and apostles in the nave—where the figures are set against a more abstract background reminiscent of grain or grass. At the entrance, the theme is a song of thanksgiving to God and Mary. The dominant colours are various shades of blue and red for the figures.
What we find truly remarkable is how the choir was designed within the large space of the church. A sort of intermediate height was created, connecting the spatial scale to the human scale. The choir stands freely within the church walls, and the window is placed within it, much lower than the rest of the building. This demonstrates tremendous spatial awareness and sensitivity. All the windows are documented in the book and give a sense of the scale of the work involved in designing the whole. Now you can understand the designer’s plea for a modern church, and you see what the synergy of architecture and window design can achieve.
If the windows are the mirrors of the city, then we can conclude that Metz has always been open to innovation. In what you can see today, there is rarely a clash between past and present. Surely, there must have been struggles to reach these results, but what we see now is that newer styles have settled into older ones. In Saint-Étienne, this spans across the centuries; in Saint-Maximin, there is one bold leap from the Middle Ages to the 20th century. In Sainte-Thérèse, architecture and stained glass fought hand in hand to realise a pre-war design in the post-war era, and it still appears modern to this day. It’s hard to believe this design is already 90 years old. They weren’t afraid of artists with strong, individual reputations and dared to take on the challenge. We see a colourful city—literally, through the colours of the glass, but also in its history and the people who live and work there.
2025
