Marc Chagall’s Windows in Reims Cathedral: What They Mean
At the eastern end of Reims Cathedral, three windows glow with a deep blue that immediately feels different from the medieval glass elsewhere in the building. They are not Gothic. They were created in the 20th century by Marc Chagall and completed in 1974.
Chagall’s windows were designed specifically for Reims Cathedral, and their subjects were chosen to connect biblical history with the cathedral’s own identity. Across the three windows, you move from the ancestry of Christ, to sacrifice and the Passion, and finally to some of the great moments in the history of Reims.
If you are standing in front of them, it helps to know that they are not simply three decorative panels. They form a carefully planned sequence.
Where are the Chagall windows in Reims Cathedral?
The Chagall windows are in the axial chapel, at the eastern end of Reims Cathedral.
If you enter through the main western doors and walk toward the choir, continue around the ambulatory toward the centre of the apse. The three blue windows are easy to recognize once you reach the chapel because their colour is much more intense than many of the surrounding windows.
They were completed in 1974, with Chagall working in collaboration with the Reims master glassmaker Charles Marq. The project took several years to complete.
The best way to look at them is not to start by trying to identify individual figures.
First stand back and take in the three windows as one composition. Then move from left to right.
That is how the overall idea becomes clearer.
Why did Marc Chagall create windows for Reims Cathedral?
Reims Cathedral had lost and damaged stained glass over centuries, particularly during the First World War. Instead of filling every missing area with copies of medieval designs, the cathedral gradually developed a tradition of commissioning modern artists.
Chagall became one of the most important of those artists.
His Reims windows were not created in isolation. He worked with Charles Marq, a master glassmaker from the Simon-Marq workshop in Reims.
That collaboration mattered.
Chagall could design the figures, colours and overall composition, but stained glass is not simply painting transferred onto a window. The colour of the glass, the way pieces are cut, the lead lines and the amount of light entering the cathedral all affect the final result.
In a 1974 interview about the Reims project, Chagall spoke warmly about Charles Marq and the craftspeople in the workshop. He also acknowledged how long and demanding the work had been. When the interviewer pointed out that the windows had taken around three years, Chagall suggested that even three years was not enough for a project of this kind.
So while they are called Chagall windows, they are also the product of a close collaboration between artist and glassmaker.
The left window: the Tree of Jesse
The left window: the Tree of Jesse
Start with the window on the far left of Chagall’s three-part installation.
Its subject is the Tree of Jesse, the biblical genealogy that traces the line from Jesse of Bethlehem through the kings of Israel to the Virgin Mary and Jesus. Chagall transforms what could have been a formal family tree into something much more fluid. Deep cobalt blues dominate the glass, broken by emerald green, flashes of red and touches of gold, so the whole genealogy seems to float rather than stand still.
Begin at the bottom.
In the lower right corner, look for a reclining figure wrapped in vivid green. This is Jesse, father of King David. The image refers to the prophecy in Isaiah of a shoot growing from the stump of Jesse. Rather than painting an ordinary tree rising neatly from the ground, Chagall lets the genealogy grow around Jesse in sweeping lines and colour.
Now shift your eyes to the bottom of the left-hand lancet. Here the royal line begins to take shape. Among the blue curves you can pick out King Solomon, crowned and seated, holding a sceptre.
From there, let your eyes rise through the middle of the window.
Halfway up the left lancet is one of the easiest figures to recognise: King David. Chagall identifies him through the lyre in his hands, the instrument traditionally associated with David and the Psalms. Warm golden-orange tones gather around his head while the blue and green branches continue to rise around him.
Across the neighbouring lancet, Chagall avoids turning the Tree of Jesse into a stiff trunk with evenly spaced branches. Instead, the tree becomes a flowing mass of blue and green. Faces emerge from the colour, while angels seem to hover among the branches.
Keep looking upward.
Near the top of the right lancet, the genealogy reaches its Christian conclusion. Within an oval of green foliage stands the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus. The long line that began with Jesse has reached the figure whom Christian tradition understands as the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy.
Then look across toward the upper left. Against the dominant blues, a brilliant ruby-red orb stands out dramatically. Its warmth provides one of the strongest contrasts in the entire window, suggesting light breaking through the blue composition.
Finally, look into the pointed Gothic tracery at the very top. Pale angels with outstretched wings appear to drift through the upper glass, visually carrying the composition from the earthly genealogy below toward heaven.
What makes this window especially interesting is the way Chagall brings several traditions together. He was a Russian-born Jewish artist working with the imagery of the Hebrew Bible inside one of France’s most important Christian cathedrals. The subject begins with Jesse, David and Solomon, figures shared by Jewish and Christian scripture, before reaching Mary and Christ.
And the window never feels like a rigid diagram of ancestry. Chagall and master glassmaker Charles Marq use colour, painted detail and flowing forms to make the lineage appear almost weightless. When sunlight passes through the cobalt and emerald glass, the tree seems less like something rooted in stone and more like something moving through light.
The central window: Isaac and the Crucifixion
The central window: sacrifice and redemption
Now move your attention to the central window of Chagall’s installation.
If the Tree of Jesse on the left is about ancestry, this window is about covenant, sacrifice and redemption. Chagall places an Old Testament sacrifice on the left and the Crucifixion on the right, linking the two through colour, movement and repeated forms.
Start with the left lancet.
In the middle section, look for one of the most dramatic scenes in the entire group: the Sacrifice of Isaac. Abraham, wrapped in red-orange tones, stands over his son Isaac, who lies bound across the wood prepared for the offering. At the crucial moment, an angel descends from above to stop Abraham’s hand.
The scene comes from Genesis, where Abraham is tested by being asked to sacrifice his son. The sacrifice is halted, and Isaac is spared.
Now lift your eyes higher.
Near the top of the left lancet, Chagall introduces another Old Testament figure: Moses, holding the Tablets of the Law. Around him, the glass shifts into intense crimson. The red is striking because Chagall uses it much more sparingly than blue. Here it marks a moment of direct encounter between humanity and the divine.
Then lower your gaze again.
Near the base of the left side, look for the ram caught in the thicket, the animal that replaces Isaac as the sacrifice. Around it are figures associated with prayer and covenant, reinforcing the idea that this scene is not simply about danger and rescue, but about the promise between God and Abraham’s descendants.
Now shift to the right lancet.
The relationship between the two halves becomes much clearer.
High on the right, Christ hangs on the cross, rendered in pale, luminous tones against the surrounding blues. The contrast makes the figure immediately stand out. Chagall surrounds the Crucifixion with angels and arcs of light, so the scene does not end with suffering alone. It points toward grace and redemption.
This is the key to understanding the whole window.
In Christian theology, Isaac’s near-sacrifice was traditionally interpreted as a prefiguration of Christ’s sacrifice. Chagall makes that relationship visible by placing the two scenes opposite one another.
Look at the composition as a whole and you can see the balance:
Isaac on the wood to the left, Christ on the cross to the right.
Below the Crucifixion, the colour changes again. A pool of yellow and gold introduces warmth into the panel, creating a quieter space beneath the intensity above. Within it, two figures appear in an intimate embrace.
Rather than over-identifying the scene, it is safer to read it as a moment of tenderness placed beneath the greater drama of sacrifice. The warmth of the colour itself creates the contrast.
At the bottom of the right lancet, angels and kneeling figures rise through the deep blues. Their upward movement gives the lower part of the window a sense of prayer being carried toward the heavenly scenes above.
Finally, look into the pointed tracery at the top.
White birds and winged figures seem to cross between the two sides, helping unite the left and right lancets into one composition rather than two separate narratives.
What makes this window especially powerful is Chagall’s use of typology: the idea that events in the Hebrew Bible can be read as foreshadowing events in the New Testament.
The visual parallels are deliberate.
The near-sacrifice of Isaac answers the Crucifixion. The fiery red surrounding Moses on the upper left is balanced by the pale luminosity around Christ on the upper right. The whole window is built around correspondences.
Instead of presenting theology as a sequence of written ideas, Chagall turns it into a structure of colour, movement and visual echoes.
The right window: the great moments of Reims
The right window: Reims, kings and coronations
Now turn to the right-hand window, where Chagall shifts the story once again.
The first window reaches back through biblical genealogy. The central window connects sacrifice in the Hebrew Bible with the Passion of Christ. But here, the subject comes much closer to the place where you are standing.
This window is about Reims itself and its relationship with the French monarchy.
For centuries, Reims Cathedral was the great coronation church of France. Chagall brings that history into the glass through scenes associated with Clovis, Saint Remi, French kings and Joan of Arc. The palette changes with the subject too. Alongside his characteristic cobalt blues appear warmer rose-pinks, amber, orange and emerald green.
Start near the bottom of the left lancet.
Here Chagall evokes one of the foundational stories of Reims: the Baptism of Clovis by Saint Remi, Bishop of Reims. Tradition places Clovis’s baptism around the end of the fifth century, often dated to 496. The conversion of the Frankish king later became deeply connected with the idea of Christian French monarchy and helped give Reims its special place in royal tradition.
Chagall does not paint the event like a historical reconstruction. Figures emerge from patches of rose, red and blue, allowing the episode to feel more like remembered history than a literal scene.
Now let your eyes travel upward.
In the middle of the left lancet, a crowned ruler appears beneath an architectural form, representing the long succession of French monarchs who came to Reims to be crowned and anointed. The official cathedral interpretation specifically associates this part of the window with the coronation of Saint Louis, Louis IX.
The image turns the cathedral itself into part of the story. These kings are not shown in an imaginary palace. Their royal identity is tied to the very building surrounding the window.
Higher still, look for a figure mounted on a pale horse.
This is Joan of Arc, whose presence immediately evokes one of the most famous coronations in French history.
In 1429, during the Hundred Years’ War, Joan accompanied Charles VII to Reims, where he was crowned king on 17 July. Reaching Reims mattered enormously because the traditional coronation strengthened Charles’s claim to the French throne. Joan’s appearance in Chagall’s window therefore links military and political history with the cathedral’s ceremonial role.
Now shift your attention toward the right lancet.
Here the imagery develops another important part of the Reims coronation tradition: royal anointing.
Saint Remi appears again, surrounded by warmer golden and orange tones. The scene recalls the legend of the Sainte Ampoule, or Holy Ampulla, the sacred vessel associated with the oil used to anoint French kings at Reims.
According to medieval tradition, the holy oil had miraculous origins connected with the baptism of Clovis. Whether read as history or legend, the story became central to the symbolism of French coronations. The king was not simply receiving a crown. The anointing presented kingship as something carrying sacred authority.
Above this, crowned figures and members of the royal world gather within fields of green and blue. Chagall does not arrange them as a formal court portrait. They seem to float through the colour, as though centuries of monarchy have been compressed into one remembered vision.
As your eyes continue upward, the historical scenes gradually give way to something less earthly.
The architecture, kings and bishops below dissolve into Chagall’s familiar blue, while pale angels appear higher in the window. History seems to rise toward heaven.
Look finally into the Gothic tracery at the top. Winged figures occupy the small openings above the two lancets, visually carrying the story beyond the kings and ceremonies below.
The effect is important.
Chagall is not simply illustrating a list of famous episodes from Reims history. He places the baptism of Clovis, royal coronations and Joan of Arc within a larger sacred framework.
And the colours help signal the change.
Compared with the darker cobalt world of the Tree of Jesse and the dramatic blues and reds of the central window, this window introduces warmer rose, amber and green tones as the story moves from biblical history into the history of France.
Stand back now and look at all three Chagall windows together.
The progression becomes much easier to see:
biblical ancestry on the left, sacrifice and redemption in the centre, and the history of Reims on the right.
That is what makes the three windows work as a single composition. Chagall begins with scripture, moves through Christianity’s central story of sacrifice, and finally brings those ideas into the cathedral’s own human history of bishops, kings and coronations.
Why are Chagall’s Reims windows so blue?
Blue is the first thing many visitors notice.
The colour is so dominant that it is tempting to assume Chagall chose it purely for symbolic reasons.
His own explanation was more practical.
In the 1974 interview, Chagall credited Charles Marq with advising that blue would work particularly well in this part of the cathedral. The windows needed to coexist with older stained glass higher in the building and remain visually strong within the surrounding architecture. (marcchagall.com)
That does not mean the colour has no emotional effect.
Quite the opposite.
The deep blues create a very different atmosphere from the stone around them and allow reds, greens and yellows to stand out sharply within the figures.
But it is useful to separate interpretation from evidence.
Rather than saying that blue simply represents heaven or spirituality, we know that the colour was also chosen because it worked visually in this exact location.
The cathedral shaped Chagall’s palette.
How the windows fit into Reims Cathedral today
Chagall’s windows became part of a much larger story of modern art inside Reims Cathedral.
They were not the final contemporary intervention.
In 2011, the German abstract artist Imi Knoebel created six new stained-glass windows in the apse, positioned on either side of Chagall’s axial chapel.
The French Ministry of Culture explains that the Knoebel commission was designed partly to bring stronger colour into the surrounding chapels and to respond to the visual presence of Chagall’s work. (culture.gouv.fr)
That is an important point.
Chagall’s windows did not remain an isolated modern experiment inside a medieval cathedral.
They became part of the cathedral’s continuing artistic history.
Today, you can stand in one part of the building and compare medieval glass, Chagall’s figurative 20th-century work and Knoebel’s abstract 21st-century windows.
Few cathedrals make the passage of artistic time quite so visible.
What should you look for when standing in front of the
windows?
If you only have a few minutes, use this sequence.
1. Start with the colour
Stand back and look at all three windows together.
Notice how blue dominates the composition and how the warmer colours appear almost suspended within it.
2. Move to the left window
Think of the Tree of Jesse as a family tree.
Look for the sense of ancestry and kingship rather than worrying about identifying every figure.
3. Study the centre
Look for the relationship between Isaac and Christ.
The key idea is sacrifice.
Chagall is visually connecting an Old Testament event with the Crucifixion.
4. Move to the right window
Now the story shifts from biblical history to Reims.
Look for the scenes associated with Clovis and the coronation of French kings.
This is where the cathedral itself becomes part of the subject.
5. Step back again
Once you understand the three themes, look at the windows together.
They move from:
biblical ancestry → sacrifice and redemption → the history of Reims
That larger sequence is easier to appreciate once you know what you are looking at.
Frequently asked questions about Chagall’s windows in Reims Cathedral
Where are the Chagall windows in Reims Cathedral?
The three Chagall windows are in the axial chapel at the eastern end of Reims Cathedral, behind the main choir area.
When were the Chagall windows installed?
The windows were completed in 1974.
What do the three Chagall windows depict?
The left window contains the Tree of Jesse, the central window connects the Sacrifice of Isaac with the Passion of Christ, and the right window depicts important moments in Reims history, including the Baptism of Clovis and royal coronations.
Why are Chagall’s Reims windows blue?
Chagall said that master glassmaker Charles Marq advised that blue would work particularly well in this part of the cathedral and coexist successfully with the older stained glass above.
Did Marc Chagall make the stained glass himself?
Chagall designed the windows, but their creation was a collaboration with master glassmaker Charles Marq and the Reims glass workshop. Chagall himself emphasized the importance of this collaboration.
How long did the Reims windows take to create?
The project took roughly three years. Chagall later joked that even three years was not enough for work of this scale and importance.
See more of Reims Cathedral’s stained glass
Chagall’s windows are only one part of the cathedral’s much longer stained-glass history.
Reims also preserves medieval windows, major rose windows, the Champagne window, work by Brigitte Simon and modern abstract glass by Imi Knoebel.
For a broader overview, read our guide to the stained-glass windows of Reims Cathedral.
And if you want to understand the cathedral while standing inside it, Tourific’s self-guided Reims Cathedral audio tour takes you through the building at your own pace and explains the stories behind its art, architecture and history.
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