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Diversity Within Iconography - An Artistic Pentecost, by Aidan Hart

This is written by icon painter Aidan Hart (my teacher who is based in England). When reading the following, the reader should be aware that the in the Orthodox Tradition the form of liturgical art is restricted to the iconographic (that which, as Aidan puts it below, aims to ‘manifest the world and saints transfigured’). So when he refers to liturgical art, he is equating it in his mind with iconographic art. Catholic liturgical art includes the iconographic tradition and so in principle, we can accept what Aidan has said about it here. However, Catholic liturgical art is not restricted to iconography. In his book, The Spirit of the Liturgy Benedict XVI states this and adds the two great Western traditions of the gothic and the baroque as authentic Western liturgical forms. These aim to reveal different aspects of the mankind and so are complementary to the iconographic form (as a recent article discusses).

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"When faced with the craze for novelty in contemporary art it is too easy to stress the unchanging nature of the icon tradition. We even read in some books that the icon painter must paint according to strict canons, as though he or she were expected to paint by numbers. Where does the truth lie between freedom and conformity for the way icons are painted? Or any liturgical art is created?

The answer is found not in the style but in the subject and the recipients. At Pentecost the one Gospel was preached in many languages because the truth couldn't be bounded by any one culture. And people needed to receive the truth in a form that they could comprehend.

It is a fact that the icon tradition in all its healthiest periods - both East and West - has great variety within an identity of spirit and purpose. This is attested by the fact that we can usually date an icon to within thirty years by its style alone, and give its provenance with reasonable accuracy. Great diversity in unity is a fact in icon history rather than a proposition. Romanesque, Russian, Byzantine, Georgian, and early Roman art - to take just some examples - all manifest the same vision but using their distinct dialects.

But where does the mean lie between unspiritual innovation on the one hand and mere duplication on the other? Genuine variety in liturgical art occurs when the iconographer unites spiritual vision with artistic ability - energized with courage and the blessing of God. Vision without artistic ability produces pious daubs. Not every saint can paint icons. Although icons are more than art, but they are not less than art.

Ability without spiritual vision can produce one of two results.

If the iconographer limits him or herself to copying, then their works will certainly function liturgically but will lack spirit and authority.  Such icons will be a painting of a painting of the saint rather than a painting of the saint. They will be the equivalent of a portrait made from photographs rather than from live sittings. The Evangelist Matthew records that Jesus taught the people "as one having authority, and not as the scribes" (Matthew 9:29). It was because He knew the Father that Christ spoke with authority. Likewise the apostles. "We declare to you what we have seen and heard," wrote John (1 John 1:3). When iconographers paint from experience their works possess naturalness, freshness and boldness.

If on the other hand the painter is of a more adventurous bent and experiments but without spiritual vision, then their works will tell us more about themselves than the holy subject. Their paintings might be admirable for their daring but be more art than icon.

When an icon painter has vision plus ability but does not have the courage to do more than simply copy, it is to my mind a sad thing and it misrepresents God's nature. It is like the person in the parable who buried their talent. It was because they believed that the giver was " a hard man" that they were "afraid and went and hid the talent in the earth" (Matthew 25:24,25).  Such fearfulness suggests that God has made us machines rather than mysterious beings of great depth and variety, made in His image. Monotony of style in liturgical art also suggests that God Himself is somewhat finite, able to be expressed in just one style. It is a form of spiritual meanness.

Vision, ability and courage in equal abundance is a rare trinity. This being the case, perhaps devout and careful copying of masterpieces in the spirit of humility rather than fear is the best compromise. But this copying is just a stop gap. It should not be accepted as the definition and apogee of tradition, any more than the recitation of patristic texts can be asserted as the zenith of teaching ability.

Why discuss the style of religious art at all, we might ask? Surely it is the icon's holy subject matter that makes it a holy image rather than its style? This is true to some extent: "The honour given to the image passes over to the prototype" wrote St Basil the Great  (On the Holy Spirit 18.45).

But it is also true that the way a subject is depicted has great impact on the way we see the subject. There is a profane way of depicting sacred things, and a sacred way of depicting mundane things.

In the Orthodox Church, liturgical art aims to manifest the world and saints transfigured by the indwelling Holy Spirit, like Moses' bush that burned without being consumed [see introductory note, DC].

By its means as well as its subject matter, liturgical art can help us see the world with the eye of the spirit, and not merely with the physical senses. What St Paul wrote of his preaching can also be the aspiration of all liturgical artists:

"Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is from God, that we might understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who possess the Spirit" (1 Corinthians 2:12,13)." "

The images are all of the Annunciation. From top: by Aidan Hart; 12th century Russian; 12th century English from the St Albans Psalter; contemporary Neo-Coptic; early 14th century Byzantine; 12th century, Mt Sinai.

Cardinal Virtue - A Suggestion for a New Symbol from the Book of Nature

Inspired by Rural New England I have said before how if a tradition is to be a living tradition it should be developing re-applying its core principles so that it speaks of and to each successive generation. Accordingly, we should start to look for symbolism in the light of what we now know about the natural world today. So here’s a challenge to readers. Try to think of examples that could be developed. To my mind, this should have at its root a commonly believed truth about the thing itself so that the symbolism has a natural connection with reality. Also, if the object itself is attractive it will arouse an interest regardless of what it symbolizes. For example, contrary to the belief of late antiquity, the peacock’s flesh does decay and so it is not a good symbol for immortality in today’s world. Nevertheless, the sheer attractiveness of a peacock in mosaics and paintings makes me want to find a way of including it anyway! So in line with this here is my offering: a regular flash of red in the New England countryside is the male cardinal bird, the name is derived from the comparison to a cardinal’s robes. I was told recently that the cardinal bird interesting in that although it looks very bright when it is in its setting, when you see it in close-up and in isolation it appears relatively drab, given what a flash of colour it is when you see it at a distance. I speculate that the reason for this is that red and green are complementary colours. Red looks redder when it is next to green; just as green looks greener next to red. So the male cardinal bird is more attractive when in its natural setting. As an artist, if I paint a landscape, I always try to put some discreet strokes of red somewhere next to the green if I wish to make the foliage more vibrant.

Part of what inspired me to become a Catholic was the inspiring vision of the Church that each of us has a unique role to play in contributing to the common good. This is our personal vocation. We are most fully ourselves and so most joyful and most fulfilled when we live this calling. The joy we feel is radiant and will attract curiosity I was lucky 20 years ago in that I was given very good guidance that set me out on a journey to be doing what I have always wanted to do, I have written about this here.

I had always thought of the discovery of this as finding the right shaped hole in the jigsaw so that it helps to complete the picture that is the common good. But in fact this image of the cardinal bird says it so much more clearly. When we in the right role in relation to other and the mystical body of Christ, our own natural setting, just like the cardinal bird we become brighter and more radiant examples of the Faith.

Below: a detail from Constable's The Hay Wain showing a discreet use of red to enhance the greenness of the scene.

 

 

The Apple of My Eye - a Leaf from the Book of Nature

I have written recently about the reading of the book of nature for symbolic meaning. I have recently moved to a new address in Massachussetts. The house is in a rural setting (in what will eventually be the new campus for Thomas More College, a place called Groton). From the kitchen window I can see a commercial apple orchard, and across the field I often see deer and wild birds. So, I thought, what can be read in this particular book of nature? Here are two examples: the first is a traditional one, and most obvious for my New England setting, the apple. My Dictionary of Saints, Signs and Symbols says that the apple is a symbol for sin when in the hand of Adam or Eve and of salvation when associated with Christ. There is speculation as to why the apple became associated with the forbidden fruit, mentioned in Genesis. My dictionary says that the Latin word for apple and for evil is the same: malum. Most of the paintings that I am aware of that use this as a symbol for salvation do so in the context of either a painting of the Virgin and Child, in which the new Adam returns the apple to the new Eve; or in the Holy Family. In the selection I have shown, I have included below one example of a painting by an anonymous 15th century artist called The Holy Kinship, which shows the extended family of Jesus. In this St Elizabeth hands an apple to the little boy. This might be symbolic, but as with all symbols I have to remember that the symbolism doesn’t rule out a more literal interpretation: a mother giving a treat to her little boy might simply be a charming indication of maternal love.

Images from top: Gerard David, Flemish 15th century; Stanzione, Italian 16th century; Rubens, Flemish 17th century

The Holy Kinship, German 15th century. St Elizabeth is bottom right.

 

 

 

An Old English Garden in New England

I am ashamed to admit it, but when I arrived here in the US, I knew relatively little about the founding fathers of the country. Most of what I knew came from the HBO series John Adams, which focussed on the life of the second president of the United States. As it turned out, I now realise, this wasn't a bad introduction to the subject.

Aside from the history it was trying to communicate, two little details stuck in my memory. First was that I am sure that everyone ate their meals while holding their knife and fork the English way (fork in the left hand and knife in the right hand) rather using the modern American convention of cutting up the food, putting the knife down and transferring the fork to the right hand. (This has nothing to do with the rest of this article, but I thought I would mention it anyway.)

Second was the beauty of the garden in Adam's Massachusetts home. I have mentioned before of my love of the English gardens (describing my parents' gardens in England and Spain) and how much I miss them here in the US. Also I have described, here, why I think they are such an important symbol of the properly ordered relationship between man and the rest of creation; as well of the culture of life the antidote to the 'culture of death'.

Coming back to John Adam's garden. Here was the evidence that it was possible to have a beautiful garden in New England. Recently I found out that John Adam's house is still standing in Quincy, Massachusetts, and the gardens are maintained in their traditional form. I decided I had to get down there and have a look. The house is surrounded by a modern suburb of Boston (and one that is not particularly attractive). It was also the home of Adam's son who was the nation's  sixth president, John Quincy Adams. The garden is preserved as it was designed and planted by Louisa Catherine Adams, wife of John Quincy Adams, who was English.  The orthogonal shaped herbacious borders remind of what i might have seen in my parents' home and, I was told, reflect the design of a garden in England in the first part of the 19th century.

 

Beyond the formally laid out flower beds the ground are a landscaped farm and orchard as well as nursery greenhouse. This gives a sense of the agricultural and ornamental cultivation of the land - the Martha and the Mary of man's dominion over creation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Liturgical Art of Kiko Arguello

Here are some works by the Spanish artist Kiko Arguello (he is co- founder of the Neocatechuminal Way, the Spanish lay movement). I had never heard of him until I visited Spain about five years ago. On a tour of the cathedral in Granada, I was shown a small painting by him similar to the one shown here, left. It is obviously derived from the iconographic style, yet having a modern feel in a way that does not take away, in my opinion from the contemplative nature of the form. I have seen very few examples since and have struggled to find very many. I would love to see some more if anyone out there can point us in the right direction?  

 

 

 

 

 

Nature and Supernature in Tolkien

By Stratford Caldecott I recently had the pleasure of attending a Tolkien conference in northern Italy. I say conference, but it was more of a fantasy festival, and most people wore costumes. I dressed in a borrowed Franciscan habit as Gandalf's friend, the wizard Radagast the Brown, and it was in that costume that I was introduced to the Bishop of Piedmont as "a Professor from Oxford" when he came to open the proceedings.

With the Alps looming in the background under a dazzling blue sky, we met in the gardens of the 15th century castle of the Counts of Osasco, and the talks - on the theme of "friendship" in The Lord of the Rings - were held under a giant copper beech, reminiscent of the Party Tree where Bilbo put on the Ring and disappeared from the Shire. Speakers incuded three of the young actor-celebrities who dub the voices of Frodo, Aragorn, etc. (as well as Harry Potter) in the Italian versions of the big movies.

But although a lot of people came to the talks (I noticed Sauron lurking in the back during mine), most were there for horse riding, sword fights and training, music and dance, demonstrations of falconry, and for the costume competition. There was a band playing songs from their rock opera of the "Ley of Lethian", and the little kiddies had an arts and crafts section in a replica of Bag End, under the supervision of a comely Elf-maiden. (The grounds had been turned into a map of Middle-earth, so that the horses were in a section called "Edoras", restful cushions in the "Lothlorien" pavilion, and refreshments at the "Prancing Pony".) In other words, it was enormous fun for everyone.

But what has this to do with the "Way of Beauty"? It should be obvious. What lured people to this event was beauty -- not just the beauty of the setting, but the beauty of the story, and the beauty of the arts and crafts that the film (in particular) inspires us to revive. They were drawn by the elegance of "medieval" costume and courtesy -- exemplified by the young Count of Osaco himself, who hosted the event and served the tables in person. But the beauty of the story comes from two sources: from nature, and from the supernatural.

Tolkien himself wrote that his own "small perception of beauty both in majesty and simplicity" is founded upon Our Lady, and it is clear that the virtues of his characters are illustrations of Christian ethics. Majesty and simplicity: both are paradoxically combined in the Virgin Mary, who is echoed in the story by Galadriel and her patron Elbereth. Sam describes the former as “Proud and far-off as a snow-mountain, and as merry as any lass I ever saw with daisies in her hair in springtime.” The loveliness of mountains and forests, of caves, and country walks in the Shire, of vast plains of grass, and the remote stars, the sounds of the ocean and the crying of the gulls, these are all part of the magic of Middle-earth, the reason we keep going back to it.

The providence and grace that breathes through Tolkien's cosmos have helped to draw many souls back to faith. Tolkien embodied his understanding of "aesthetics" in the Elves, and it has deep roots in both theology and metaphysics. The organisers of the conference knew this, even if some of the visitors didn't, and as we celebrated Mass in the open courtyard of the Castle in the Italian sunshine, I felt Tolkien would have been happy that his work was still leading people to Christ via the Way of Beauty. -- SC

Stratford Caldecott is an internationally recognised expert on Tolkein. He is author of the book The Power of the Ring (about the religious and spiritual underpinning of the Lord of the Rings). He is one of the British editors of the journal of faith and culture Second Spring; and is a director of Thomas More College of Liberal Arts’ Center for Faith and Culture; and of the annual Oxford Studies Program for TMC’s undergraduates.

Below: Zurbaran's 17th century painting of Radagast the Brown. Other images are of the Castello di Osasco

 

Why the Church has Different Artistic Traditions

The iconographic, the Gothic and the Baroque are Complementary Here is a passage taken from the Office of Readings, Saturday, 6th week of Eastertide. It is part of St Augustine’s Commentary of the Gospel of John: "There are two ways of life that God has commended to the Church. One is through faith, the other is through vision. One is in pilgrimage through a foreign land, the other is in our eternal home; one in labour, the other in repose; one in a journey to our homeland, the other in that land itself; one in action, the other in the fruits of contemplation.

The first life, the life of action, is personified by the Apostle Peter; the contemplative life, by John. The first life is passed here on earth until the end of time, when it reaches its completion; the second is not fulfilled until the end of the world, but in the world to come it lasts for ever….”

This passage seems to me to describe very well why the Church has different liturgical artistic traditions. The form of the iconographic tradition is governed by the theology of the ‘world to come that lasts forever’ symbolized by St John.

Gothic is art of the ‘pilgrimage through a foreign land’, as Augustine puts it. Stylistically the Gothic is a naturalized iconography. I have written about this here. However, the fusion is not arbitrary. This is a naturalization that is integrated with the theology of pilgrimage that Augustine describes. In this regard it should not be confused with the degenerate forms of iconography that dominated the Eastern Church from the period of the 18th century. (It was not until the 20th century, with figures such as Ouspensky, Gregory Kroug and Fotis Kontoglou that the iconographic prototype was re-established in the main churches of the East.)

Historically, the Gothic can be seen as something that develops gradually from the Romanesque (a Western variant of the iconographic form). It is almost as if the art form gradually appears from heaven, descending down to earth to join the pilgrims. Duccio, for example, who lived in the late 13th and early 14th centuries has a style that is very closely related to the iconographic. Fra Angelico, in the 15th century, uses both the iconographic visual vocabulary as well as naturalistic ones (such as perspective and shadow) in a theologically coherent way.

Where does the third authentic liturgical tradition of the Church, the Baroque, sit with these? It was during the Baroque of the 17th century that the integration of theology and form in the most naturalistic of these styles occurred. The controlled variation in colour and focus (described in more detail here) were given theological meaning: we live in a fallen world, with evil and suffering present, but there is hope because God is present – in Baroque art contrast of light and shadow is always painted so to communicate the idea that the Light overcomes the darkness.

Although we cannot reach heaven fully in this life, supernaturally we partially and temporarily step into it through the liturgy and the sacramental life. This is a transforming process that by degrees takes us towards that heavenly state.

In this context, the Baroque is the ground zero, the starting point of our pilgrimage, and the gothic describes the partial and gradual ascent to that heavenly state in this life, before reaching the final repose. The Baroque and the Gothic together represent that aspect of our life in faith symbolized by St Peter in the picture that Augustine paints.

Therefore, these three styles are not in opposition to each other but are complementary. In the light of this I hope to see all three traditions. As each tradition develops, if it bears the mark of a genuinely living tradition, it will be consistent with the timeless principles that define it will, without deviating from the core defining principles, to reflect the time and place that it comes from. Those aspects that are subject to change will be the common ground for each of these traditions. It is possible to envisage a church containing all three traditions that are distinct, yet because they bear the mark of their time, yet containing aspects of form that are common and through this participate in a unified artistic vision.

In regard to the idea that both the Johannine and Petrine aspects of Christian life should be communicated, I leave the last word to St Augustine. Here is the closing passage from the same reading:

“We should not separate these great apostles. They were both part of the present life symbolized by Peter and they were both part of the future life symbolized by John. Considered as symbols, Peter followed Christ and John remained; but in their living faith both endured the evils of the present life and both looked forward to the future blessings of the coming life of joy.

It is not they alone that do this but the whole of the holy Church, the bride of Christ, who needs to be rescued from the trials of the present and to be brought to safety in the joys of the future. Individually, Peter and John represent these two lives, the present and the future; but both journeyed in faith through this temporal life and both will enjoy the second life by vision, eternally.

All the faithful form an integral part of the body of Christ, and therefore, so that they may be steered through the perilous seas of this present life, Peter, first among the Apostles, has received the keys of the kingdom of heaven, to bind and loose from sin. And also for the sake of the faithful, so that they may keep the still and secret heart of his mode of life, John the evangelist rested on Christ’s breast.

It is not Peter alone who binds and looses sins, but the whole Church. It is not John alone who has drunk at the fountain of the Lord’s breast and pours forth what he had drunk in his teaching of the Word being God in the beginning, God with God, of the Trinity and Unity of God — of all those things which we shall see face to face in his kingdom but now, before the Lord comes, we see only in images and reflections — not John alone, for the Lord himself spreads John’s gospel throughout the world, giving everyone to drink as much as he is capable of absorbing.”

Images from top: Baroque -  St Peter being Freed by an Angel (Guercino); iconographic - St John with Christ at the last supper; Gothic - St Peter preaching (Fra Angelico)

 

Another Way to Determine Your Personal Vocation

Determining Personal Gifts In order to lead a happy life it is very important, it seems to me, to be true to your personal vocation. I have written before, here, about the advice that I was given over 20 years ago, which opened up the way for me to a wonderful life. The guidance I was given focused strongly on what to do: what is picture of perfect happiness that I envisage for myself? What job, life situation and so on does God intend for me? Having set out this vision, by ordering my activities so that gradually I move towards it, I found that I developed the skills and discovered that I had the gifts necessary to make it happen.

There is another way of discerning personal vocation that I have discovered recently. This came through my contact with Fr Michael Sweeney, the head of the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology in Berkeley, California, when I attended a course there that discussed the idea of personal vocation contributing to the overall mission of the Church, the common good.

His focus is on discerning our gifts and special skills, and works on the assumption that if we then seek to employ these in our lives, bit by bit we will be guided towards the appropriate theatre in which to apply them. Each of us has a calling that is our personal contribution to the common good. Every person therefore is given a unique set of gifts by the Holy Spirit – charisms he called them – that will enable us to fulfill that vocation and so lead of life Christian joy. When we exercise those gifts we do so with a special authority as assigned to our unique position with the Church, in my case it is the Lay Office. These gifts can be things we often associate with the lives of the saints – for example the gift of leading a life of poverty for the greater glory of God. Or they can be very practical things: art, music, writing or teaching. They can also be special skills that those of us who don’t have them find it difficult to imagine anyone feeling fulfilled doing, such as the charism of administration. In connection with this, one of the things that struck me about St Ignatius of Loyola is that after he created the Jesuit order he spent most of his time quietly in Rome administering the growth of his organization. Other Jesuits, such as St Francis Xavier, were the great missionaries of the organization.

When I became a Catholic one of the things that attracted me to the Faith was the belief that this offered the way to greatest happiness. My friend David who was instrumental in bringing me into the Church always stressed how certain he was that God wanted me to be happy. When I got into the Church I realized, judging from the way they talk about their lives and their faith that not all faithful Catholics are aware of this. I have never subscribed to a view that life is something that we put up with while we await eternal bliss in heaven. Rather, eternal life starts here and now and by degrees we can experience that heavenly form of existence in this life (though not fully until we die).

Intrigued by what I heard from Fr Sweeney I decided to go investigate further. Before he moved to Berkeley, Fr Sweeney was working as head of the organization that he founded to enable people to discern these gifts, the Catherine of Siena Institute. I ordered from the Institute their Called and Gifted series of recorded talks. In these Fr Michael and the co-founder Sherri Weddell describe how we can determine these gifts. I recommend them.

As described in the recorded talks, the characteristic of a charism is that it gives you special abilities that achieve great observable results, that are for the good of others and exercising these gifts feels easy and natural (although it may seem extraordinary to others who see the results). Most importantly, when exercising these charisms, we feel fulfilled. The Catherine of Siena process of discerning charisms (and you can have more than one) involves a guided examination of one’s past experience for signs of the workings of a charism. These gifts can be in very practical things, such as art, music or craftsmanship. They can be in more intellectual pursuits such as teaching or learning. They can also be in what we would probably more commonly associated with the word ‘charismatic’ in the context of the Church, such as a gift of evangelization.

I should declare hear that I have never been attracted to what I have seen of what is commonly referred to as charismatic Christianity, Catholic or otherwise. It always seems to me that there is too much emphasis on emotion and not enough on reason. What appeals to me in this approach to discerning them is that it is systematic and rational. There is no arm waving (with or without tambourine) or hysteria.

As a result of this process, it has not changed the my life direction particularly. I was not expecting this as I already feel that I am doing what want to do. However, it has changed my sense of how I should aim to achieve what I want to do. It has been revealing and helpful to me.

Also, it has immediately made more conscious of differing individual strengths and weaknesses. I can see now why I find some things very easy that others find difficult and so I can see that I ought to be more understanding when dealing with them. Similarly, it has made me less frustrated at myself in other respects. It has been obvious to me that there are things that seem to come naturally to so many people. It increases my awareness, I feel, that we all need each other to cooperate in working towards the common good.

I close with a quote from  St Cyril of Jerusalem. What he says applies to all charisms, not just those he mentions specifically. It comes from the Office of Readings Monday Week 7 Eastertide, a few days before Pentecost:

“Although the Spirit never changes, the effects of his action, by the will of God and in the name of Christ, are both many and marvellous. The Spirit makes one man a teacher of divine truth, inspires another to prophesy, gives another the power of casting out devils, enables another to interpret holy Scripture. The Spirit strengthens one man’s self-control, shows another how to help the poor, teaches another to fast and lead a life of asceticism, makes another oblivious to the needs of the body, trains another for martyrdom. His action is different in different people, but the Spirit himself is always the same. In each person, Scripture says,the Spirit reveals his presence in a particular way for the common good.

"The Spirit comes gently and makes himself known by his fragrance. He is not felt as a burden, for he is light, very light. Rays of light and knowledge stream before him as he approaches. The Spirit comes with the tenderness of a true friend and protector to save, to heal, to teach, to counsel, to strengthen, to console. The Spirit comes to enlighten the mind first of the one who receives him, and then, through him, the minds of others as well.”

Art work: first, third and fourth are all the Calling of Ss Peter and Andrew by Duccio, Pietro Da Cortona (C17th) and Bernardo Strozzi (C16th) respectively. The second is The Miracles of St Francis Xavier by Rubens (C17th).

 

Two Evening Talks on Liturgy and Culture at Thomas More College, open to the public

Two events that are part of the schedule of talks and presentations for those attending Thomas More College's summer Way of Beauty Atelier are open to the public: Tuesday, June 28 at 7:00 p.m. entitled, Beauty and the Renewal of Culture: An Evening with Catholic Artists.

This event brings together three Catholic artists working in the areas of sacred art, traditional painting, and architecture. The discussion will involve portrait painter Henry Wingate, painter and architect and artist David Mayernik, and the third is yours truly.

The discussion will be chaired by Father Thomas Kocik, author of two books on the liturgy including one on the Reform of the Reform published by Ignatius Press and former editor of Antiphon, the journal of the Society for Catholic Liturgy. He is a colleague of mine on the staff of the New Liturgical Movement website where he writes on the Reform of the Reform. We are also collaborating on episodes in the second series of The Way of Beauty with Catholic TV. Filming starts in August.

We will discuss the guiding principles of Catholic art and its role in the liturgical life of the Church and in the broader culture. The evening’s presentations will be conversational. We will show examples of our work to illustrate the points they are making.

Wednesday 6th July at 7.15pm, the Helm Room, Thomas More College of Liberal Arts, Merrimack, New Hampshire

Steve Cavanaugh will speak about the sources of Anglican chant in the Gregorian chant of the Roman and Sarum psalters, and the contemporary forms of vernacular chant in English, both Catholic and Anglican, with a special look at the possibilities presented by the Personal Ordinariates coming into being under the aegis of Pope Benedict XVI's Anglicanorum coetibus.

Mr. Cavanaugh is the editor of Anglicanism and the Roman Catholic Church: Reflections on Recent Developments (Ignatius Press, 2011) and of Anglican Embers, the quarterly journal of the Anglican Use Society. Copies of both the book and the journal will be availble for inspection after the talk.

These special events are offered at no cost and are open to the public. Those interested in attending may RSVP by contacting Lucy Domina at 603-880-8308, ext. 25 or at LDomina@ThomasMoreCollege.edu.

 

The Still Lives of Deirdre Riley

Teacher of Thomas More College students I recently featured the work of students from Thomas More College who are in the St Luke Guild and learned the traditional academic method of drawing. Their teacher was Deirdre Riley, who has been studying with Paul Ingbretson for five years. Here are some examples of her still lives. Deidre Riley can be contacted through  www.DeirdreRiley.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Using the Principles of the Liturgy and Beauty in Retail

High Shelf Esteem! When James Woodward, owner of Woodward Menswear, decided to open a second high-end men’s clothes shop he wanted to model it upon the principles he had read about in the Way of Beauty. He had already started to put some of the principles into practice in his first shop, in Oxted in Surrey, England and had been encouraged the results. Because he was beginning with a blank page in this new venture, he saw the opening of his second shop in Banstead, also in Surrey, as an opportunity to use them more fully. I received a telephone call from him earlier this year asking for ideas about the layout and decoration of the new place. He had already been trying some of these things out in the first shop, but hadn’t been able to implement them properly because a lot of the things were already set differently when he had thought about introducing them. Nevertheless the changes that he was able to make had made an impact he thought. The local bank manager had told him at one point, in the deepest part of the recession, that his was the only business on his books that showed any significant signs of growth. ‘I had been making money and I felt that this had contributed. The growth of the business is helping to fund the investment in this new shop. But it isn’t just the money,’ he told me. ‘The principles that I had been able to try seemed to show me a way of having the values of my Catholic faith penetrate much more deeply than before the everyday activities of business.’

James is a Catholic convert of about 10 years. I had known him for several years because we both attended the London Oratory when I lived in London. We had had conversations about the Way of Beauty over the years, just as a result of staying in touch and his curiosity about what I was up to over here. At some point he started to ask me how he might introduce into what he was doing in his first shop. Even so, I was surprised to be asked recently to contribute so much to the new project.

So what has he done? As a starting point I suggested that whatever he does he constantly ask himself the question, is this beautiful? And to be prepared to go against the trend of modern design if necessary. I did offer some specific points:

  • The general layout is one that gives a general impression of symmetry and order. I suggested that he introduce some details of asymmetry. If it is too rigidly symmetrical it would be cold and sterile. He went directly against the advice of his retail designers here, who were recommending more sweeping and turning curves in the layout; and asymmetry ordered to the personal intuition of the designer. I suggest that the colour scheme should be based around natural earth colours if possible.
  • The clothes are presented on shelves and I suggested that the spacing of the shelves should not be even, but should vary so that the largest spacing is at the bottom and smallest at the top, mimicking the proportions of storey size in traditional architecture.
  • He has the natural beauty of plants in the shop too, either pot plants or cut flowers. Because there are people walking around the shop, this meant that he had to design into the layout spaces and shelves just for this purpose so that the arrangements could be placed without impeding the flow of people or the views of the clothes he was selling.
  • I told him to try to avoid pop or rock music and again, if you have music to opt for something that is beautiful. I am not completely against all pop music per se, but even good music that is designed for dancing at midnight is unlikely to promote calm and peace, which is what we were aiming for here. In the end James opted for no music at all. He was really sticking his neck out here. Almost all retailers install music systems and have background music constantly. The outfitters cite scientific studies that prove that when you play such music, people stay for a shorter period of time and buy more quickly. Also the staff initially wanted it too for their own entertainment. He is not certain he wants to maintain the silent vigil and is considering using classical music.
  • I felt it was important to have the face of Christ as a focus in the décor (a good principle for all main rooms in a building). In the end he bought a small icon of the mandylion and put it on the wall behind the till. This meant that every customer who went to the counter would see it. In his previous shop James put also a nativity scene in the window every Christmas and he intends to the same here. Aside from any thoughts about décor, he wanted to bear witness to his faith in an open, but quiet way.  Again, the advice of the professionals on this one was the exact opposit! It would offend and put off non-Christians he was told. He has had no complaints from customers since he did this, and several complementary remarks. Small children were pulling their parents into the shop as a result of the nativity in the window.
  • Finally, I had suggested that he pray the Liturgy of the Hours as part of his spiritual life and even if he couldn’t pray all the hours, try to mark each Office with a prayer of some sort. He might, I thought, consciously dedicate this prayer as a sacrifice for the well being of his employees and customers.

The photographs of the shop and are shown, so you can make your own mind up about the look. The shelves are solid oak veneer and the flooring is solid oak coupled with pure-wool carpeting.  The paintwork is all natural-pigment traditional paint (produced to re-create eighteenth-century decorative schemes). What strikes me is that although traditional proportions and materials have been used, it has a clean-cut modern look. This is not trying to recreate and Italian villa or a Georgian town house. The modifications are subtle.

Clearly,  using these high quality materials involves a greater outlay than the usual materials. He has now been going for about three months and when I spoke to him recently I was interested to know: did he feel the extra investment had been worthwhile?

‘The look of the place has had an impact. Several customers and other local retailers have complimented the shop actually using the word “beautiful”. For example I was at the local newsagents and the lady behind the till engaged me conversation. When she realized I was from the new Woodward Menswear she immediately told me that people had been saying to her how beautiful the shop was.

‘Many customers have told me how comfortable and inviting the shop is and one top-notch fellow fashion retailer said it was a really beautiful shop and “very calming”. What I find so interesting is that they can't really tell why it is. they respond to the overall look but they can't say why. I haven't made it look like a Victorian shop or anything, the look is similar in many respects to other shops, but the modifications are subtle. I think that unless it was pointed out to them, for example, they wouldn't know that the shelves are spaced differently to other places.’

And the bottom line?

‘It’s early days of course, but I am very pleased. We are already making as much money as my first shop, which I bought as a business of 30 years standing and have been running for several years. This is better than I had expected. Of course, these beautiful features are not the only thing that will be contributing to the business.  I have learnt a lot about retail while running my first shop and so have put many lessons in to practice in this second. I still had to get the location and the stock right along with all the other business variables. However, if it’s only for the comments and my own pleasure at working in such a lovely environment, I definitely feel that it has been worthwhile.’

What about the future? James pointed out to me that this was done on the basis of reading blog articles and an hour’s telephone conversation. He wants to know more about the Way of Beauty.

‘I am impressed by the impact that this has had and I get the feeling that I am scratching the surface here. I do my best but I don’t know much about the Liturgy of the Hours or how to pray it and I definitely could learn more about how these proportions are linked to the liturgy. I am planning on coming over to the creativity retreat at Thomas More College in New Hampshire in August. And I will probably pay a visit to the menswear shops in Boston while I’m here too, just to see how they do it over there!’

Clothes fit for a Church Father - Boethian proportions were used for the shelf spacing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thomas More College Students Artwork - Academic Drawing

Here are examples of cast drawings by freshman students at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts. They study the academic method of drawing. This is a method that developed in the High Renaissance and can be traced back to Leonardo. The name comes from the art academies of the 16th and 17th centuries that established it. We are lucky to have the world renowned Ingbretson Studio closeby in Manchester, New Hampshire. During the spring semester, students spent each Saturday at the studio. This is a large sacrifice of time as they received no concessions in regard to their other studies. The results are excellent, I think you'll agree.

 

 

 

The method involves setting the easel up next to the cast and then retreating several feet so that that both drawing and cast can be seen in the same angle of vision. This allows for a systematic build up of the image. The artist looks at the two, decides what aspect he needs to draw and then moves forward and draws from memory. He then retreats back to the marked position to compare his work with the cast again. Through this steady motion, moving forwards and backwards, the picture is created.

 

 

The introduction to this method is through cast drawing because the plaster cast has no colour, and is stationary. This means that the student can learn to see in tonal shapes. The introduction of colour comes once modelling in tone has been mastered.

You can learn the academic method at Thomas More College this summer from Henry Wingate, who studied for 5 years at the Ingbretson Studio before going on to be an internationally known portrait artist. Henry is going to be teaching at the Way of Beauty Atelier from June 27th - July 9th. For more details follow link here.

Changing Appearances According to the Audience

When depicting Christ or Our Lady one always has to consider their individual characterics (handed down to us by tradition); but at the same time the artist will always consider modifying the appearance so that those who are likely to see the painting will identify with Him or her. Here are some paintings by Chinese Christians. The first, left, dates from the 14th century and the second from the turn of the last century. Christ is the Everyman, the model for all humanity. When He (or indeed Our Lady and the saints) are painted, the image must also participate in a model of humanity that the audience can relate to. All sacred art is a balance of the general and the particular. If those who are going to see the painting are going to be almost exclusively Chinese, then it is a legitimate approach, I would argue, to portray Christ and Our Lady as Chinese.

This principle is used famously, in a different way, in the Isenheim altarpiece painted in the early 16th century in the gothic style by the German artist Matthias Grunewald. Christ is horribly disfigured, but not as he would have been disfigured by the passion. This painting was made for a hospital in which people were suffering from an illness caused by fungus in the rye grain used in the bread eaten locally. The cause was not known at the time and so the illness was incurable. The symptoms match exactly those that Christ has in the painting. This is clearly intended to offer solace to the patients to communicate to them that Christ is suffering with them and for them.

There are many depictions of Christ by Western European artists that show him as Western European for the same reasons. When I showed my students the Christ pantocrator, below, many assumed that this was painted in Western Europe too, and were surprised to learn that it was from Mt Sinai in Egypt. I could only offer a speculation as to why his skin tone is paler than one would expect of a working man, a carpenter, in the Middle East, which would surely have been known to the Egytians who saw this image in the 6th century. I suggested that as this was in the iconographic form, the artist would shown the uncreated, heavenly light emanating from the person of Christ. So the lightening of the skin tone is linked, perhaps, along with the other familiar features such as the halo to the depiction of this. As usual I will be interested to see if there any readers who can enlighten us (if you’ll forgive the pun) on this matter.

Even if my suggestion is correct. It doesn’t apply universally. The last two are from Russia. So in this case the skin tone reflects neither the uncreated light, nor that of those who are likely to see the icon. I once had lessons from an icon painter in England who had been at one time a student of the famous Russian iconographer, Ouspensky. She told me to use predominantly the green-brown colour that we see there (called ‘avana ochre’) with highlights used sparingly in yellow ochre and white specifically because it matched the olive-brown Mediterranean complexion.

It seems that an artist has a choice in these matters. The governing principle is that he should aim to maximize his chances of communicating the person of Christ to those who are likely to see his work.

The Isenheim altarpiece

Caravaggio's Flagellation of Christ

Mt Sinai, Christ Pantocrator

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thomas More College Students' Art Work - Geometry

Student work from the Guild of St Luke We have just finished the academic year here at Thomas More College. As part of the graduation ceremonies we had an exhibition of the student art work done by the college's Guild of St Luke. I will show parts of this over the next couple of weeks. Today we see geometric patterned art done by freshmen at the college. In the spring semester the students study Euclidean geometry as part of their introduction to logic. The way that Euclid is taught generally in liberal art schools is that students are expected to memorise and on demand be able to demonstrate proofs to the professor and class in the classroom and then be able to respond to questions and discuss the proof. We do this at Thomas More College too. In addition, however, as a deepening of the learning experience we create some of the Euclidean constructions, using the traditional toools of a pair of compasses and a straight edge. From this foundation the students go on to study geometric patterned art. We look at Islamic patterns and then how Christians have incorporated these designs into churches in the past. For example at the 12th century Capella Palatine in Sicily. The first two examples shown below are exercises where I asked the students to create a simple Islamic tile design. They were required to present it as formed by strips passing over and under each other is a loose weave. I asked them to work out for themselves how a border could be incorporated into what they were doing. Two examples are shown below.

 

Then I set the students a project to create a design for either the floor of nave or sanctuary in a simple basilica style church. They had to use either the quincunx (four circles coming out of one) or the guilloche - a series of interconnected circles. The infill could be drawn from a series of Romanesque traditional designs that I presented to them. In accordance with the gothic style of pavement design they were encourage to piece it together in orthogonal boxes. The results are very impressive. After one semester they are producing church floor designs that would grace any church in the country and which are more involved than most churches built in the last hundred years at least. The students are Jacqueline Del Curto, Elizabeth Rochon, Devin King, Kristina Landry, Bridget Skidd, and Catherine Mazerella. Well done!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Carvings of Andrew Wilson Smith

Here are photos of work in progress by American sculptor Andrew Wilson Smith. They are for capitals at Our Lady of the Annunciation Benedictine monastery at Clear Creek in Oklahoma (well worth a visit at any time). His style here reminds me of medieval relief carvings. Andrew tells me that he expects to be finished in a couple of months. We have been promised fresh pictures at that point and I can't wait to see what they will look like.

Looking at his work, his commissions have required him to tackle quite a range of subjects and some in a more naturalistic style. Through all of these it is possible to his own mark coming through in a natural and appropriate way. I feel that his individual style sits well within the gothic form and I would love to see him receive more commissions of this type. This view is, no doubt, heavily skewed by my own love of gothic art and architecture!

For those who wish to read more about him, Smith was interviewed by Matthew Alderman for the current issue of Dappled Things.

 

 

 

 

The Liturgy and Community

Our own sense of who and what we are is based upon the relationships we have with others. If you go around a group of people and ask them to describe themselves, apart from their name they will talk about themselves in terms of their relationships with others: for example, ‘I work with this company’, ‘I am a father and I have three children’. This is the essence of a person, as distinct from an individual. A human person is always in relation with others, starting from birth. No one, by choice, disengages from society altogether (not even a hermit) and is happy. This understanding of the human person has a profound effect on how we view what society is. A relationship of the sort we are now envisioning is always between two subjects, that is two people freely cooperating as moral agents. This is termed covenantal and is based upon mutual self-sacrifice on behalf of the other - love. This freedom to respond as a person is one of the essential elements of society. Society therefore is the vector sum of the relationships within it. It is not a collective of self-contained individuals.

A human relationship is an entity in itself. Two people create, through the properly ordered love between them, a relationship that is distinct from each person, and does not destroy either’s integrity.

It is analogous, I think, to a chord created by two notes played simultaneously. We perceive the chord as something distinct created by the proximity of two notes, but the integrity of each note is not diminished by it. Something has been created out of nothing. This creation out of nothing is ‘superabundance’; love is always superabundantly fruitful (an example is the creation of the third person in a family). A loving relationship is created out of the harmony that exists between two hearts when each acts for the good of the other. There is a song (by U2 I think) that describes love as two hearts beating ‘as one’. In fact it might be more accurate to say that when love is present, two hearts beat not as one, but as three.

By using the word ‘love’ I do not always have in mind profoundly deep relationships. Any relationship, however casual, can reflect a motive for the good of the other. Even a cheery hello to a shopkeeper can reflect either a loving or self-centred motive. This means that whatever I do I bring to the party, so to speak, an aspect of every relationship that I have. I represent to some degree every community of which I am part – family, work, parish, tennis club and so on.

Liturgical activity is an act of love, in which I participate in the sacrifice made by Christ for all humanity. In participation of this supreme act of love is a transforming experience that by degrees changes me and makes me a better lover (and God knows, there is much room for improvement). This means that through every relationship I have, every other person and community with whom I relate benefits profoundly from my participation. Participation in the liturgy is a sacrifice of love their behalf. The effect is through what one hopes subsequently might be a more loving direct interactions with each person; but also because I am transformed through this participation, the relationship that exists between us and my prayers and intentions for them in the liturgy facilitate a supernatural transformation to the same degree and through my intentions for those people in the liturgy.

The liturgy therefore is the binding principle of society and those communities in which I participate. Family, friends, parish, Church, workplace, living quarters, country – will all benefit from my participation in the liturgy. This is so even when I am the only person who is doing this and no one else knows of my participation. When I go to Mass or pray the liturgy of the hours, I try to remember to consciously dedicate that day’s prayer to all those groups and individuals with whom I relate.

There is a maxim that the family that prays together, prays together. In the encyclical Marialis Cultus (On the Right Ordering and Development of Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary), as well as describing how praying with Christ in the Liturgy is the fullest expression of devotion to Mary, Paul VI calls the Liturgy of the Hours the 'highpoint which family prayer can reach'.(54)

By extension, I suggest, this is true for all communities. The benefit of this liturgical participation in the sacrifice of Christ is magnified if the community prays in community. Unless its raison d’être is communal prayer it is rare that in any community every single member can or would even want to pray regularly with his fellows. But by degrees it is possible to move towards this ideal anywhere. If practicalities allow (and we must be aware that often they will not) a visible posting of regular times that the Liturgy of the Hours is prayed with an invitation for any member to join, would invoke the public nature of liturgy. If that invitation extends to the general public to attend the community prayer, the better still. At Thomas More College we are lucky to have priests who can say daily Mass; in addition a core of devotees to the Liturgy of the Hours have organized a rota by which we do our best to ensure that two or three of us at least pray Lauds and Vespers each day for the community.

Culture reflects the cult that is at the core of it. However modest the fulfilment of this ideal, this is the means by which the culture of community or organization can be transformed to a Catholic culture that will be in harmony with all other institutions and social groups and work for the common good. It is no surprise, therefore, that any organization, such as many businesses which typically give no thought to liturgical piety at all, reflect a secular culture. So much so, that it doesn’t even occur to many people that the workplace can be or can even aspire to be a community. Consequently it is taken for granted that while it might contribute to the financial support of the families who work there, that it is intrinsic to business that it will undermine the family (for example through demands of time) and so many other aspects of an ordered culture. I do not accept this.

This suggests though that any attempt to change things in a community or organization that does not consider its culture and what culture really is will be dealing with symptoms not causes; and the problems even if apparently solved will eventually reappear elsewhere or in a different form. It is like the Tom and Jerry cartoons when Tom has hit on the head with a giant mallet and has a huge bump on his head. In response he puts his hand on the top of it and pushes it down until the scalp is once again smooth. The only problem is that as the first bump diminishes, a second appears on the side of his head and grows. The end result is that the bump has simply moved. Most organizational change I have seen in the workplace has struck me as bump moving, rather than bump healing.

In the end, I suggest, that answer is always the same: to change a culture you must change the cult.

 

 

 

Cosmic Onions? What does a Still Life Have to Do with the Liturgy

It is said that all the great art movements begin on the altar. So, for example, the gothic style began as the style for gothic churches and cathedrals in harmony with the liturgy. However, very quickly the architecture of mundane buildings of the period reflected that form too, adapted as appropriate to the purpose of the building (the colleges of Oxford and Cambridge immediately come to mind). Similarly, the baroque style of art and architecture, which began as liturgical forms, became the model for all building and art of the period, with for example, the portraits and landscapes of the 17thcentury reflecting the stylistic forms of the liturgical art of Ribera, Velazquez and Rubens. This is not just an arbitrary extension of style into non religious subjects. It is consistent with the idea that the whole of the cosmos reflects and points to the rhythms and patterns of the heavenly liturgy. So any art form that is in harmony with the liturgy, will also be harmony with the cosmos. The cosmos, in the context of this discussion, is the mundane. I repeat a remark made to me recently (and no doubt will do so in the future, for it says it so well): the Mass is a jewel in its setting, which is the Liturgy of the Hours; and in turn the liturgy as a whole is itself a jewel in its setting, which is the cosmos. When we perceive God's creation as a thing of wonder and beauty, we are recognizing at a deeply intuitive level, the harmonious relationships between all aspects of the cosmos and the heavenly order. The heavens point to Heaven and circle is completed.

The work of man, through God's grace can, simply through its beauty, participate in this cosmic order and therefore direct the souls of mankind to the heavenly order too, believer and non-believer alike. It is through the mundane aspects of Catholic culture that we look to therefore, to lay the groundwork, so to speak, of drawing the non-believers to God, for it will be very likely the first aspect of Catholic culture that they will have contact with. A beautiful landscape or still life can open up the souls so that they might become fertile ground for the later sowing of the seed of the word.

The baroque painting of the 17th century, is a naturalistic form that is every bit as integrated with the Catholic worldview as the iconographic. The baroque portrays our naturalistic world as imperfect, fallen, but nevertheless still good. It's aim is to acknowledge the presence of evil and suffering, while offering hope through Christ that transcends it. Much of the visual vocabulary of the tradition is linked to contrast of despair and the hope that transcends it for example in the symbolism of light contrasted with darkness; of variation of focus in which those areas of primary interest are sharper and crisper than those of secondary interest; and of variation in colour in which those areas of primary interest are rendered in naturalistic colour, while those of secondary interest are rendered tonally in monochrome. In the context of sacred art, I have written about it, for example here.

A simple still life, therefore, can portray the work of God or man (inspired by God) and it does so by employing the same visual tools. Whereas a landscape looks at the broad horizon in wonder, the still life invites contemplation of the small and ordinary aspects of everyday life. through them we can see how even these small otherwise unremarkable details of the day conform to and participate in the same liturgical dynamic as the grand cosmos. The Christian artist can create cosmic vegetables, or cosmic pots and pans that, in the words of the Canticle of Daniel, ‘give praise to Lord’.

The model to look to in this regard is the French 18th century artist, Jean Baptiste Simeon Chardin. His is the painting shown above. The person who drew my attention to Chardin is Henry Wingate, a Catholic and Virginia-based artist who is a wonderful painter of portraits and still lives. (He is also a gifted teacher who his teaching the naturalistic drawing class at the Thomas More College summer program this year.)

I show below an example of a still life by Wingate which reflects, in my opinion, the baroque vision of the world. I you wish to see more I posted a series of his still lives recently, here; and for those who are interested, I have written about his portraits here.

Above: still life by Henry Wingate; below: Jar of Olives and Silver Cup, by Chardin (1699 - 1779)