Note: This depicts an earlier transport of the Arc to Jerusalem not today’s reading of bringing the Arc to Solomon’s Temple.
Category: Art & Music
Visual art opening and exploring the texts we “read, study, learn and inwardly digest.” Music and notes about music used to open and celebrate the texts read in worship.
Transportation of the Ark of the Covenant Containing the Tablets of the Law, 1816, Fresco, Luigi Ademollo (1764-1849)
Commentary by Hovak Najarian
Related post B Proper 16, Art for August 26, 2012
In the early eighteenth century baroque art gave way to a lighter, more delicate version called rococo (from the French: rocaille – shell-work, pebble-work). Rococo tended to be ornate, frivolous, florid, and was associated with court life in France; it also tended to reflect the gap between the working class and the wealthy elite. Social differences were among factors that led ultimately to the French Revolution at the latter part of the century.
At mid eighteenth century the discovery of the ruins of Pompeii brought renewed interest in the life of ancient Romans and elements of classicism began to reappear in art. While Napoleon Bonaparte was in the military, he admired and identified with Roman courage and after becoming Emperor of France in 1804, he placed artists in key positions to promote and portray traits such as moral strength, honor, and sacrifice for one’s country. Art became serious business; classicism returned and rococo came to an end. During the late eighteenth and first half of the nineteenth century, this latest manifestation of classicism – called “Neoclassicism” – spread throughout Europe and America. The style was not limited to subject matter with moral messages but also included portraiture and other interests.
One of the practitioners of neoclassicism in Italy was Luigi Ademollo. He was born in Milan and received his art training there but while in his mid-twenties, he set out for Rome and then settled in Florence. During, and following the Renaissance, wealthy bankers and commercial traders in Italy built palazzos for themselves and were like princes. Their palaces contained large surface areas and artists, who often were regarded as decorators, received commissions to fill the walls with paintings. Ademollo established a reputation as one of the foremost fresco artists of his time and received commissions for work throughout Italy. In the early nineteenth century he was asked to paint murals for the Palazzo Pitti in Florence. The Transportation of the Ark of the Covenant Containing the Tablets of the Law (detail shown above) was painted for its chapel. Ademollo’s mural in its entirety is an extensive painting that seems to have a “cast of thousands.” Some of the people are onlookers and others are part of a long trail that is following the Ark as it is being transported.
The Ark, which in Hebrew means box or chest, was made from acacia wood and covered with gold; it contained the stone tablets on which were inscribed the Ten Commandments. On top of it was the “mercy seat” made of pure gold and on it were two cherubim facing each other; their wings covered the top of the Ark entirely. [In depictions of the Ark by other artists, the cherubim often are sculpted in the round, not in relief as depicted here.] The Ark was not to be touched and, according to instructions, it was to be accompanied by priests and carried with gold covered poles on the shoulders of Levites. A billowing cloud is filling the scene as burning incense is being carried in a large censor while people following the Ark are caught up in the drama of the procession. To the right (not shown in this detail) are a group of men holding an ox that later will be sacrificed.
Note
In this mural the architecture and manner of dress is in keeping with neoclassicism but during the early nineteenth century there were romanticists who were fascinated with North Africa and the exotic Near East. Romanticists often sought drama and action in their subject matter. [The spirit of Romanticism is exemplified in the motion picture, “Raiders of the Lost Ark”] Although Ademollo is called a neoclassicist, “Transportation of the Ark” has elements of romanticism in its dramatic appeal.
______________
© 2012 Hovak Najarian
B Proper 15, Art for August 19, 2012
B Proper 14, Art for August 12, 2012
David Mourns Absalom, 1931-1939, Heliogravure, Marc Chagall (1887-1985)
Commentary by Hovak Najarian
Related post B Proper 14, Art for August 12, 2012
Marc Chagall was born into a close-knit Jewish family that moved to Vitebsk, Russia in his youth. His interest in art was encouraged and when he was a young man he left home to live in Paris, the center of the art world at that time. In Paris, he was influenced by Cubism but did not continue in that direction. Instead, his paintings evolved into a personal art that has been called, Fantasy, Expressionism, Surrealism, or even Naïve Art; none of these categories fit entirely. In 1914, when World War I began, Chagall went back to Russia but while there, the Bolshevik Revolution (1917) changed his world again. He returned to Paris after the war. Later, the rise of Nazism in Germany in the 1930s was of great concern and he tried to express his thoughts through paintings; subjects included scenes of the crucifixion. That a devout Jew would paint a crucifixion was unusual but he said, for him, the figure on the cross also symbolized the suffering of the Jewish people. Chagall’s David Mourns Absalom, was made during this time period.
In Chagall’s work there is usually a child-like freedom of expression and rules of proportion or the law of gravity are not inhibiting factors. People may be placed upside down or floating freely through the air, and there is charm in scenes such as a man (possibly his uncle) on a rooftop playing the violin. In contrast to his usual work, Chagall’s David Mourns Absalom is not a celebration. When David was told Absalom had been killed, his grief was overwhelming. He said, “Oh my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would God I had died for thee, Oh Absalom, my son, my son!” (II Samuel 18:33). Even with David’s worldly glory – represented by his crown and the fortress-like walls and tower in the background – he could not change what happened. David with a hand on his forehead is sitting on the ground carrying his grief alone while people passing on the road below are preoccupied with their own concerns. The reason for Chagall’s placement of the sun in the background is not clear; as a setting sun it may reflect David’s despair. As a rising sun, it may indicate hope for the future.
Inasmuch as acid is used to etch a plate, a heliogravure (the process used to print Chagall’s drawing) may be called an “etching” but it differs from a print made by an artist working directly on a prepared plate with a scriber. Nicephore Niecpe of France developed this process in the early nineteenth century while trying to make a photograph. It has been known since the time of the early Greeks that light carries images. If we place ourselves in a light free room (a camera obscura – meaning “dark room”) with a small hole in one wall, light enters the room through the hole and the outside scene is projected (upside down) onto the opposite wall; Niepce and others were seeking a way to make a permanent copy of the projected image but early photographs faded rather quickly. In answer to this, Niepce invented a method that could print an image in ink. In this process, an image was transferred onto an emulsion covered copper plate. After several steps, the plate was etched, inked, and printed. Although early photographs would fade, an image of it could be printed permanently on paper in ink. Drawings could be reproduced by this method as well.
Note
Heliogravure translates to “sun engraving.” Sunlight is used to harden the light sensitive emulsion while preparing the plate but a heliogravure is not an “engraving” in the traditional sense. Recessed areas are not removed with a burin. They are eaten away with acid and therefore it is an “etching.”
Nicephore Niecpe is credited with making the first photograph (in 1826).
If a person is not familiar with Chagall’s work and saw only David Mourns Absalom, they might think it was refrigerator-door-art drawn by a grandchild. It is likely that this drawing was a preliminary sketch done hastily with charcoal as Chagall was exploring ideas.
Images from Chagall’s paintings of village scenes and houses were used for sets of the musical, “Fiddler on the Roof,” (based on the Tevye stories of Sholem Aleichem). Chagall designed sets for Stravinsky’s ballet, “The Firebird,” and he also painted murals. Two of his murals were for opera houses; the Metropolitan in New York City and the Paris Opera.
______________
© 2012 Hovak Najarian
I am the bread of life
“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry,
and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Jesus (John 6:35)
These words are the inspiration of the hymn “I am the bread of life” by Suzanne Toolan, RSM (Hymn 335 in our 1982 Episcopal Hymnal). The original wording has often been adapted to be more inclusive—even as Jesus was inclusive. Here is one arrangement of this hymn as you prepare for (or celebrate) Sunday’s Gospel text, John 6:24-35.
What a great gift we have been given. We will never exhaust the mystery of Emmanuel: God with us.
B Proper 13, Art for August 5, 2012
Nathan Rebukes David for His Adultery, Published in 1712, Copper Engraving, Caspar Luiken (1672-1708)
Commentary by Hovak Najarian
Related post B Proper 13, Art for August 5, 2012
At the time Caspar Luiken was born, Amsterdam was still aglow from its golden age of art and commerce. During those years it was the wealthiest city in Europe and an important center for the arts. His father, Jan Luiken, was a contemporary of Rembrandt and Franz Hals during their latter years and was a very successful illustrator and publisher. This was a time before photographs were known; a time when highly skilled engravers such as Jan and his son Caspar filled a need for images used in publications. Caspar learned engraving from his father and it was hoped he would carry on the family business but after working with him initially, he went to Germany to be on his own. Six years later he returned to help financially support his father but then died at the age of thirty-six. A book of Caspar’s engravings of Old Testament events, including Nathan Rebukes David for his Adultery, was published posthumously.
In the Second Book of Samuel (Chap. 12), the prophet Nathan was sent by the Lord to visit David and upon his arrival, told him a story of two men; one rich and the other poor. In the story, the wealthy man used his position to take advantage over the poor one. When David heard what the rich man had done he was furious but then Nathan said to him, “You are that man.” Nathan then reminded him that he had “…murdered Uriah the Hittite with the sword of the Ammonites and stolen his wife.” At this, David became remorseful and confessed, “I have sinned against the Lord.” He then listened as Nathan told him what the sad consequences of his actions would be. In Caspar’s engraving, David is crownless, his head is downcast, and he is slump-shouldered as Nathan points his finger at him in a scene reminiscent of a Greek tragedy.
Although Caspar Luiken lived during the Baroque period, the architectural setting gives this illustration a classical quality. Ornate aspects of the print are limited primarily to the drapery, robes, carpet, and the two covered storage vessels. In keeping with what had become standard practice for an artist of this era, a strong light source defines the folds of the robes and fills the space with high contrasts. Caspar also demonstrates his skill in creating an illusion of pictorial depth. Through an accurate use of linear perspective, our attention is taken back to a brightly lit space and then a window takes us back even farther into a distant landscape.
In an illustration created more than 175 years after master engravers Albrecht Durer and Lucas van Lyden were active artists, Caspar’s print is an excellent example of the subtle values (a range from black to white) that can be achieved with simply a burin, copper plate, ink, and paper. An actual continuous gradation of tone (as in a photograph or ink wash) is not a technique that is inherent in the engraving process. To make gray tones an artist must place lines close together in a technique called hatching. In the architecture directly above Nathan’s head, the simple “parallel hatching” produces a light gray value. At the very bottom of the print the dark area is rendered in “crosshatching.” The fine parallel lines are engraved horizontally and then crossed by lines in the opposite direction. Areas that are crosshatched carry more ink and produce a darker value in the print. Through skillful use of hatching, Caspar is able to control the lightness and darkness throughout this illustration.
Jan Luiken completed more than 3,200 works and his son Caspar produced over a 1000 engravings; all in exquisite detail. Yet today the name, Luiken, seldom appears in art history books. It is unfortunate that today’s critics and art historians tend to value art that is on a wall or a pedestal more than they do small prints made for an audience that appreciates the intimacy of a book.
[A brief description of the engraving process is given in the note following the Art Commentary for: “B Proper 7, Jun 24, 2012.”]
______________
© 2012 Hovak Najarian
7/31/12—Maturing in wisdom and age
Ignatius of Loyola
Today, July 31st, the Church remembers St. Ignatius of Loyola. Much has been written about Ignatius and many (including me) incorporate all or some of what is now called “Ignatian Spirituality” as a daily exercise of body, mind, and spirit.
Here is a video meditation (32 minutes) on the saint and his spirituality, on art, on the creativity of humans, on why we continue to find ways (like sculptures) to use material objects to enter more deeply into spiritual mysteries, and on the possibility that a 16th century human can still speak powerfully to us 21st century humans.
The process of making and placing “Examen” by Joan Benefiel and Jeremy Leichman (Figuration LLC) on the campus of Fairfield University.
More about St. Ignatius in the Episcopal Blog Holy Women, Holy Men
Hear what the Spirit is saying 