Hear what the Spirit is saying

Presentation in the Temple| Art for A Epiphany 4

Luke 2:22
When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, the parents of Jesus brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

The Presentation in the Temple, Tempera and Gold on Wood, 1435, Giovanni di Paolo (Giovanni di Paolo di Grazia), 1398-1482

We are familiar with remakes of motion pictures and rearrangements of musical scores. Writing variations of another composer’s theme also is well known. Today in painting, however, originality in subject and composition tends to be preferred. Yet, in the fifteenth century it was not unusual for an artist to reinterpret the composition of another painter. Giovanni di Paolo based, “Presentation in the Temple,” (shown above) on a scene from the predella of an altarpiece by Gentile di Fabriano but changes in colors and background architecture were made. Although in this time period (Early Renaissance) the trend in painting was toward naturalism and classical humanism, di Paolo remained in the Gothic decorative style.

According to Jewish law, a mother was instructed to go to the Temple for ritual purification forty days after the birth of a son (See Leviticus 12:1-8). Further, a firstborn son was to be presented as an offering to the Lord forty days after birth. In paintings, these requirements often were combined.

In “The Presentation in the Temple,” Joseph in a yellow robe and Mary in her traditional blue robe are at the Temple with the baby Jesus. Joseph is holding a dove. [It is presumed another dove is hidden from our view. If a family were poor they could bring two turtle doves or two young pigeons to sacrifice instead of a lamb.] As they entered the Temple they were met by Simeon, an old man who had been told by the Holy Spirit he would see the Messiah before he died. Simeon took the baby Jesus in his arms and prayed.
His familiar prayer is known to us now as the Nunc Demittis: “Lord now lettest Thou thy servant depart in peace; according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people: to be a light to lighten the gentiles and to be the glory of Thy people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32). [The phrase, “to be a light to lighten the gentiles,” is the basis for celebration of the feast day, Candlemas, and in paintings often a person holds a candle as a symbol of Simeon’s words.]

In di Paolo’s painting, the setting is a pavilion with a burning sanctuary lamp (the “ner tamid,” Hebrew for “eternal light”). The participants are grouped together in front of the altar and the priest is behind it. The baby Jesus continues to be held by Simeon and the prophetess, Anna, an old widow living in the Temple is at his side. On the left, two women dressed in fashionable fifteenth century clothing have come to observe the rituals and to the right two beggars are seeking alms.

Calling Disciples | Art for A Epiphany 3

Matthew 4:18,21 As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother… As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John…

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

Calling Disciples, mixed media, 2001, He Qi (b. 20th Century)

During the latter part of the nineteenth century, the industrial revolution with its engineering and technological marvels was becoming part of life and there was a sense the world had entered a modern age. Being “modern” became a self-congratulatory state of mind that continued well beyond the first half of the twentieth century. Around 1970, it was proclaimed the term “modern” no longer applied to how we perceived ourselves. We were in the “Post Modern” age. Today, “Modernism” is a designated time period that started in the mid 1930s and continued to the mid 1960s. The architecture and furniture of the 1950s in particular are celebrated now in exhibits called, “mid-century modern.”

In the early part of the twentieth century, it was recognized that a painting in reality is simply an object. It is created from a canvas stretched over a frame and covered with pigments. Just as a composer of symphonic music may be more interested in a work’s orchestration than in its melody, some painters downplay the importance of creating illusions (painting the subject matter to look “realistic”), instead they give attention to matters of form. All painters, regardless of their style, orchestrate their work by combining and arranging shapes, lines, colors, textures and spaces. These visual elements may be arranged in any way a person pleases. With them, an artist may paint a still-life, a portrait, or a scene and make it look “real.” If they choose they may use the elements also to abstract a subject or to not refer to a subject at all.

He Qi’s “Calling Disciples” announces its modernity with its style. His figures, boats and sails remain recognizable yet they are not described literally. As in a cloisonné, shapes are defined by thin dark lines and the colors within them are mostly flat. Jesus is on shore in the center foreground and is flanked by disciples; three of them are looking skyward inexplicably. The disciple on the far right has turned and is waving to a lone fisherman on a boat (the white beard suggests it is Peter – Andrew is not shown). The exchange of greetings between the fisherman and the disciple interjects a light storybook quality and the entire subject is treated as a formal study.

At a time when illiteracy was commonplace, art was an important means of communication. Unlike the Middle Ages, today we are able to read Matthew’s account of the calling of the disciples and an illustration of it may not contribute anything more than what is learned from the written word. Instead of providing insights into the biblical story, He Qi’s gives us harmonious color patterns and the absence of objectionable content; his painting is likely to be satisfying particularly to people attracted to “modernism.” “Calling Disciples,” is a painting that would fit nicely with “mid-century modern” décor.

Lamb of God | Art for A Epiphany 2

John 1:29 John saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!..”

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

(Click for other images from this commentary).

The Lamb of God (detail), Mosaic, 527, Basilica of Santi Cosma e Damiano, Rome, Italy

In Rome, Italy, many of the structures built by the ancient Romans remain in prominent areas of the city. In the Forum of Vespasian are the Temple of Romulus and the Library of Peace. In the sixth century, Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths, conqueror of Rome, and an Aryan Christian, donated a portion of the two buildings to Pope Felix IV. Pope Felix used the space in AD 527 to build a basilica dedicated to Saints Cosmas and Damian.

According to tradition, the twin brothers, Cosmas and Damian were third century Christian physicians who practiced the art of medicine in provinces of Rome that are now in southern Turkey and northern Syria. The brothers provided healing free of charge and attracted many to the Christian faith. They were martyred in Syria, and because they accepted no payment, they were placed in a category of saints known as “Holy Unmercenaries.”

The layout of the mosaic above the apse of the Basilica of Saints Cosmas and Damian, is balanced bisymmetrically with Christ robed in gold at its center. He is much larger in size than the other figures and exists in a heavenly realm. Below him in the left foreground, Saint Paul is presenting Saint Cosmas to Christ and in the right foreground Saint Peter is presenting Saint Damian. Cosmas and Damian each have a crown of martyrdom in their hands. Behind St. Cosmas on the left is Pope Felix IV holding a model of the basilica and behind St. Damian is St. Theodore.

A row of lambs serves as a visual base or foundation to the scene of Christ in heaven with the saints. Christ, The Lamb of God (shown here), is in the center of the row facing outward toward the viewer. Twelve lambs – six on each side – represent the apostles; they are in profile facing the Lamb of God who is shown standing on a mound and wearing a halo. From the base of the mound flow the four rivers of paradise representing the Gospel going out to the four corners of the world through the apostles.

Photographs of the full apse mosaic convey the dramatic, colorful effect of Christ in heaven and the martyred physicians being presented but they do not show the Lamb of God. In the early seventeenth century, Baroque architect Domenico Castelli designed a new altar for the basilica; it extended upward and blocked a direct view of the lower central portion of the mosaic. The lambs that represent the apostles may be seen but the center lamb representing Christ (the detail that is shown here) is behind the altar.

John baptizes Jesus | Art for A Epiphany 1

Matthew 3:13 Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

John Baptizes Jesus, oil on canvas, 1973, Bénédicte de la Ronciére, (20th
Century)

Artists made objects that supported the physical and spiritual needs of people throughout history and their work carried an imprint of the culture from which it came. When churches were established, art became a means by which biblical stories could be taught and worship enhanced.

In the Western division of the Church during the Middle Ages, artists painted images of the world they knew and thus biblical figures tended to be depicted as Europeans; the architecture and natural world in their paintings were their local surroundings. During the Renaissance of the fifteenth century, as painters were becoming highly skilled, the Italian heritage of Greek and Roman art brought in a classical overlay to Christian subjects and “art” evolved to exist in a realm of its own; it tended to be separate from the reality of the everyday world. The Renaissance spread throughout Europe and the art, music, literature, science, and technology that grew out of it influenced cultures of non-Europeans as well.

In recent years, a perceived need to make the arts accessible to a broader range of people led to Shakespeare’s plays being offered in a form they believed to be more palatable. Today, his plays may be seen in modern day settings with its language changed to the vernacular; the same has occurred in performances of opera. Fr. Francois Vidil of France was mindful of racial and cultural differences in people and he believed native Africans could not identify easily with biblical figures that were portrayed as white Europeans. In 1973, he worked with the Mafa Christian Communities in Africa as they staged scenes such as, “John Baptizes Jesus,” (shown here) with villagers in the roles of biblical figures. These re-enactments were recorded and illustrator Bénédicte de la Ronciére was selected to make paintings from the photographs of native Africans in these scenes.

These paintings fulfilled Fr. Vidil’s vision of casting Africans in the role of the people in biblical stories. Yet, just as the portrayal of biblical figures as Europeans in local settings was not accurate, neither was it accurate to depict biblical figures as African villagers. These paintings did not develop naturally out of the Mafa culture and although the scenes are in Africa, they are painted in a style common to European and American magazine illustrations. The subject matter of these paintings will receive attention undoubtedly from non-art sources and discussions about them will deal with social and cultural issues; not about aesthetics. It is unlikely they will receive attention from art critics and historians.

The Nativity between Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel | Art for A Christmas 1

John 1:14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us….

Commentary by Hovak Najarian
(Previously Hovak has commented on works from the Maesta:
Christ’s Appearance to the Apostles and Solomon)

The Nativity (with the Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel), 1308-1311, egg tempera, Duccio di Buoninsegna, c. 1255-1319

Duccio’s “Nativity” was once part of the Maesta (Majesty) which served as an altarpiece for the Cathedral of Siena, Italy. When the painting was completed in 1311, it was composed of a very large panel of the Madonna and Child surrounded by saints and angels. Its base – called a “predella” (Italian for “foot stool” which it resembled) – was below the main panel. It served physically to support the altarpiece and visually to depict seven scenes of the birth and early life of Christ. In its original form, an Old Testament prophet stood to the right of each event holding a scroll on which a passage written by him pertained to the scene.

Duccio’s “Nativity,” the second scene in the predella, takes place in a grotto with Mary reclining on a red cushion in a royal robe of blue. In keeping with the practice of increasing a person’s size in accordance with their importance, she is much larger than the other figures. In the manger, the baby Jesus is being watched over by an ox and an ass and many angels have gathered above them; some are looking heavenward in praise and others are leaning over for an adoring glance at the baby. A small star is at the peak of the cave entrance with its rays shining onto the face of Jesus. Below the figure of Mary are two related scenes. On the left, two midwives are bathing the new born Jesus and on the right, angels are announcing Jesus’ birth to the shepherds as they stand with a sheepdog and their flock. On the left side, Joseph is sitting outside of the grotto in a pink robe, To the right of this scene is a painting of Ezekiel holding a scroll with his words; “This gate shall be kept shut: it shall not be opened, and no man may pass through it.”

In the early eighteenth century, the Maesta altarpiece was taken apart in order to divide it between the two altars of the Cathedral of Siena. During this process, damage was caused and some parts of the painting became separated and lost. Other sections were purchased and placed in museums. One of the results is Isaiah now is not with the scene to which he and his words belong. The scroll he is holding states; “Behold a young woman shall conceive and bear a son and shall call his name Immanuel” and he was placed originally at the immediate right of the “Annunciation,” (the first scene of the predella). He was separated from it and is now at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC standing next to the “Nativity.” Isaiah is not looking toward the birth of Jesus because in the original he was looking toward the archangel Gabriel’s visit to Mary. The painting of the “Annunciation,” to which his words of prophecy apply is an ocean away in the National Gallery of London without its accompanying prophet, Isaiah.

Marriage of Sts Mary and Joseph | Art for Advent 4A

Matthew 1:20…an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife”…

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

Marriage of Sts. Mary and Joseph, marble, 18th century, Giuseppe Torretti, 1664-1743

At the beginning of the eighteenth century the Baroque period in art was ebbing as patrons favored lighter surroundings. From this a decorative trend emerged in a style that is called Rococo; a name derived from ornamental sea shells used as embellishments in architecture. Giuseppe Torretti (also spelled Torretto), from a family of artists, was active during this period but while working with other sculptors in Rome, classicism influenced his work. In the “Marriage of Sts. Mary and Joseph” shown here, Torretti presents relief figures in a Baroque-like theatrical setting yet the robes being worn are in a classical style.

The subject of the marriage of Mary and Joseph has been included regularly in scenes of the Life of the Virgin but the story is not from accounts found in the Bible. It is mentioned in apocryphal sources which were compiled and included in a fourteenth century volume called the “Golden Legend.” In this account, Mary was living in the Temple and when she turned fourteen years old the priests decided it was time for her to marry. Young unmarried male descendents of David were sought to be her husband; Joseph, though older than the others, was included. All the men who qualified were asked to bring a branch and place it on the altar. The person bringing the branch that brought forth blossoms would be Mary’s husband. After the men placed their branches on the altar, the Holy Spirit descended as a dove and the one brought by Joseph burst immediately into flowers.

Torretti places Mary and Joseph in the foreground kneeling at the altar and facing each other in front of a priest in a traditional Jewish ceremony. The bride and groom are barefooted as are the witnesses. Joseph is depicted as a bald headed man with a beard; he is holding a branch with blossoms in his left hand and Mary’s head is covered with a shawl. Because of damage from a fire several parts of the sculpture are missing; among them are the hands of the priest and those of Mary and Joseph. From a maquette (a small terra cotta preparatory sketch made by Torretti before carving this piece in marble) [click to view] we know Mary and Joseph were reaching across to each other and holding hands. The priest’s right hand was extended in a blessing.

This relief carving of the “Marriage of Sts. Mary and Joseph” is in the dado of the Chapel of our Lady of the Rosary, in the Basilica dei Giovanni e Paolo (Basilica of John and Paul), Venice, Italy. A fire destroyed the Chapel in 1867 and the sculpture was discolored and damaged. Torretti’s maquette for this piece is in the Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia.

O Antiphons (Dec 17-23)

The exact origin of the O Antiphons is not known. Boethius (c. 480-524) made a slight reference to them, thereby suggesting their presence at that time. At the Benedictine abbey of Fleury (now Saint-Benoit-sur-Loire), these antiphons were recited by the abbot and other abbey leaders in descending rank, and then a gift was given to each member of the community. By the eighth century, they are in use in the liturgical celebrations in Rome. The usage of the O Antiphons was so prevalent in monasteries that the phrases, Keep your O and The Great O Antiphons were common parlance. One may thereby conclude that in some fashion the O Antiphons have been part of our liturgical tradition since the very early Church. Read more: What are the O Antiphons from Catholic Education Resource Center

Sr. Joan Chittister has provided an entire page to help you pray the O Antiphons (from December 17th through December 23rd). Each meditation is accompanied by a women’s choir chanting the Antiphon in English. Use this online meditation to deepen your prayers as Advent comes to a close and the Nativity arrives.

St John the Baptist in the Prison | Art for A Advent 3

Matthew 11:2-3 When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

St. John the Baptist in the Prison, oil on canvas, c. 1565-70, Juan Fernandez de Navarrete, 1526-1579

In the mid-sixteenth century when Juan Fernandez de Navarrete was a youth, a period of study in Italy was a prerequisite for a career in art. Michelangelo, Titian, Tintoretto, and Veronese were still living and Italy attracted artists from throughout Europe. Navarrete, a young Spaniard, visited the major art centers in Italy and stayed in Venice to study Titian’s use of color. Then, as now, there were cultural differences between Italy and Spain and Navarrete’s interest was in gaining knowledge of techniques, not subject matter. During the Renaissance, the depiction of Greek and Roman gods and goddesses entered into Italian art but were not of interest in Spain where very few nude Venuses or classical themes were depicted. Instead, subject matter in Spain tended to depict religious themes of devotion and piety.

Spain was a world power in the sixteenth century and King Philip II, who assumed the throne of Spain in 1556, ruled an empire that included Naples, Milan, and The Netherlands; even the far off Philippine islands were named for him. He was determined to rule as a strong Catholic King and was intent on keeping Martin Luther’s teachings and the reformation out of Spain. When he was building his extensive royal monastery-palace (called El Escorial) he wanted the best artist available to paint its walls. Titian, however, was too old and his other choices, Tintoretto and Veronese, refused to live in Spain. Navarrete accepted the position and became known as the “King’s Painter.”

Navarrete’s “St. John the Baptist in the Prison” is not filled with superfluous details. John is alone in a cell with a shaft of dramatic light coming through a window fitted with iron bars. In art, John the Baptist is identified by his camel-skin clothes; he is depicted usually as being wiry, not soft as depicted here. He sometimes carries a crudely assembled cross made with a simple piece of wood split at the top with a crosspiece inserted and held together with twine. In this scene, John’s shawl has been laid aside and he is hunched bare-shouldered over a table looking at the cross. His expression suggests this is a time of prayer, contemplation, introspection, and sadness.

Note:

At the age of three, Navarrete was struck with an illness that affected his hearing. This made learning to speak difficult and he became known as El Mudo (The Mute). He compensated by communicating through drawings.

“St. John the Baptist in the Prison” is now in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia.

The Polonsky Foundation Digitization Project

You’ve probably noticed that the “printed” word is more and more available digitally. This digital explosion of information is simultaneously good news and bad news.

Sadly, with the 24/7 “news cycle” more and more information is available every time a person logs on to see what’s happening. Not all the information is accurate and we haven’t yet developed, as a society, a good sense for weeding out the spurious and the superfluous. Such detection is still a work in progress. Erroneous reporting can quickly go ‘viral’ and then seems to hang on forever.

Happily, digital technology has also made available to both scholars and ‘amateurs’ printed texts that have helped form our society (artistically, linguistically, and morally). For this Sunday Morning Forum biblical texts from codices and papyri dating back thousands of years are now viewable (even if we are not proficient in ancient Hebrew or Greek). Today’s English translations of the Bible allow scholars (who are proficient in ancient languages) to make wide use of texts and have helped improve modern translations of this ancient treasure (which we put to good use in our Forum).

Two such efforts at digitization are the Ancient Biblical Manuscript Center of the Claremont School of Theology and The Digital Dead Sea Scrolls Project.

Now the Polonsky Foundation has brought together the resources of the Bodleian Library in Oxford and the Vatican Library for digitization:

Through the generous support of the Polonsky Foundation, this project will make 1.5 million digitized pages freely available over the next three years. Portions of the Bodleian and Vatican Libraries’ collections of Hebrew manuscripts, Greek manuscripts, and incunabula have been selected for digitization by a team of scholars and curators from around the world. The selection process has been informed by a balance of scholarly and practical concerns; conservation staff at the Bodleian and Vatican Libraries have worked with curators to assess not only the significance of the content, but the physical condition of the items, prioritizing items that are robust enough to withstand being transported to the imaging studio and handled by the photographers. In order to preserve the integrity and completeness of the manuscript collections, the libraries have also agreed to digitize whole collections where appropriate. The complete list of works to be digitized can be accessed here for Greek manuscripts, here for Hebrew manuscripts, and here for incunabula.

Go to the Polonsky Foundation Digitization Project

You are encouraged to go and see for yourself what is now available online.

Image: Genesis illustration in the Cologne Bible (1478-1479) from the Vatican Library part of the Digitization Project

St John the Baptist | Art for A Advent 2

Matthew 3:1-2 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

DONATELLO
(b. ca. 1386, Firenze, d. 1466, Firenze)
St John the Baptist (detail)
1438
Painted wood
Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, Venice
Click image for more information.

Commentary by Hovak Najarian

St. John the Baptist (detail), painted wood, 1438, Donatello, c. 1386-1466

The term, “Renaissance man,” (used loosely today when applied to a contemporary person) is in reference to the great achievers of the fifteenth century. They were not only a “jack of all trades,” they also were masters of them all. Donatello (Donato di Niccolo di Betto Bardi) was such a man. He chiseled stone, cast bronze, modeled clay and stucco, and carved wood as he created a wide range of sculpture including, statues, monuments, and reliefs. This was all done with a high degree of creativity and excellence. Further, his understanding of sculptural space enabled him to be sensitive to how his work would interact in its architectural setting.

The career of Donatello is well known; he worked with Lorenzo Ghiberti on the first set of bronze doors for the Baptistery of Florence Cathedral and he studied the ruins of Roman architecture and sculpture with Brunelleschi in Rome. In his work, he helped to bring sculpture out of the Middle Ages by re-establishing it “in the round” (capable of being viewed from all sides). His studies of Roman sculpture led to imbuing a sense of personality and character in the faces and bodies of the figures he sculpted. His St. John the Baptist’s eyebrows are raised, an eye is squinting, and in the boney fingers of his left hand is a partially unrolled scroll showing the beginning of the phrase, “”Ecce Agnus dei” (Behold the Lamb of God). He stands with his right arm raised and his mouth slightly open as though he is about to speak.

The description of John the Baptist in the Books of Mark and Mathew give us an image of a fearless, camel skin-wearing man who lived in the wilderness and ate locust and honey. In art, he is pictured often as somewhat like a wild man with unruly hair, unkempt beard, and an intense facial expression. As the subject of paintings, he is most likely to be at the Jordan River baptizing Christ or in a ghoulish scene with his head on a platter after Salome danced before Herod.

St. John the Baptist, in the church of Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari in Venice, is different from most of Donatello’s familiar work. It is carved in wood and is painted. It is the only sculpture by Donatello in Venice and only his Mary Magdalene, which also is carved in wood, is similar in style. Until it was cleaned in 1973 its date was not known. Under the old paint from a previous restoration, it was discovered Donatello signed and dated it in 1438; much earlier than previously thought. How it came to be in Venice, however, is still uncertain. John the Baptist is the patron saint of Florence and it has been suggested a wealthy Florentine merchant living outside the city commissioned Donatello to carve the St. John for the church in Venice.

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