Rest on the Flight into Egypt – Caravaggio

Rest on the Flight into Egypt – Caravaggio

Charlotte and I saw a trio of beautiful Caravaggio paintings while visiting the Doria Pamphili Gallery in Rome in September last year. The gallery has hundreds of paintings and many masterpieces. I may do a piece on the gallery as a whole and then on some of its pieces. The one we will focus on today is Caravaggio’s Rest on the Flight into Egypt. This was painted in 1597 and I think it is exquisite. The painting is taken from a passage in the Gospel of Matthew:

The Escape to Egypt

13 Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” 14 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”

The Massacre of the Infants

16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:

18 “A voice was heard in Ramah,
    wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
    she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”

The Return from Egypt

19 When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20 “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” 21 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. 23 There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.”

Below are some details about the room where this masterwork is housed in the gallery.

The Rooms on the Corso

The sixteenth-century smaller rooms overlooking the Via del Corso at the end of the Hall of Mirrors were renovated by the architect Gabriele Valvassori in 1731. The pavilion vaults were decorated with fanciful architecture by the Bolognese artist and scene painter Pompeo Aldobrandini. The rooms show a collection of landscape paintings from the various Doria Pamphilj villas and the ‘still lifes’ painted in oil on copper by Jan van Kessel the Elder with an almost miniature technique, which provide an example of the preciousness and refined skill of the Flemish artist.

In the Second Room you can admire, side by side, the two marvellous canvases with the ‘Penitent Magdalene’ and the ‘Rest during the Flight into Egypt’ by the young Caravaggio, as well as his St. John the Baptist. Doria Pamphili

The detail is just astonishing. Mary is nursing Jesus very tenderly on the right. I bought this as a bookmark from the gift shop, by the way. On the left, St Joseph is holding up a piece of sheet music for an angel who is playing music for him on a viol. The sheet music is from a motet by Flemish composer Noel Bauldeweyn with a text from the Song of Songs dedicated to the Madonna, called Quam pulchra es (How beautiful you are). I have embedded a beautiful recording of it below. The donkey behind Joseph is trying to see what is happening and is very sweet. There is a wine container at Joseph’s left which is perhaps a prefigurement of the Last Supper. The scenery behind the figures in the painting is also beautifully rendered. The angel in the middle of the painting is serene, perhaps happy that the Holy Family are going away from danger.

 

This painting is an extraordinary work. Charlotte and I were captivated by it and spent a long time in the room seated admiring it. We will certainly go again when we are next in Rome.

 

Christ in the House of His Parents – Sir John Everett Millais

Christ in the House of His Parents – Sir John Everett Millais

Amazingly, this painting is Millais’ first important religious subject. It shows the boyhood of Christ, of which not much is known. The gospels of St Luke and St Matthew speak on Christ’s childhood years. Christ’s dedication is at Luke 2:21-40 and His visit to the temple when He was 12 years old is found at Luke 2:41-52. The Gospel of Matthew includes a visit from some wise men. These stories precede Christ’s ministry. Nothing is known of what occurred between His dedication at the temple at eight days old, and His visit to Jerusalem when He was 12. Then nothing is known after this point until the beginning of Christ’s ministry. The painting depicts an imagined scene in the family’s workshop. Christ’s earthly father, Joseph, was a carpenter by trade. He is the patron saint of workers. The painting was exhibited in 1850 at first, with no caption save the below:

And one shall say unto him, What are those wounds in thine hands? Then he shall answer, Those with which I was wounded in the house of my friends. (Zech. 13:6)

Christ in the House of His Parents (‘The Carpenter’s Shop’) 1849-50 Sir John Everett Millais, Bt 1829-1896

There are a number of astonishing details in this scene which are worth discussing. It prefigures the crucifixion. We can see that Christ has hurt His hand on a loose nail, His mother is comforting Him. There is a drop of blood on His hand which has dripped onto His foot. St Joseph is inspecting Christ’s hand lovingly. John the Baptist is bringing Christ some water to bathe His wound. All eyes are fixed on Jesus, including that of a flock of sheep which have come up to see what is happening.

Following the Pre-Raphaelite credo of truth to nature, Millais painted the scene in meticulous detail and based the setting on a real carpenter’s shop in Oxford Street. The sheep in the background, intended to represent the Christian flock, were drawn from two sheep’s heads obtained from a local butcher. He avoided using professional models, and relied instead on friends and family. Joseph’s head was a portrait of Millais’s own father, but the body was based on a real carpenter, with his rough hands, sinewy arms and prominent veins. The Virgin Mary was his sister-in-law Mary Hodgkinson, who also appears in Millais’s Isabella (1848-9, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool); John the Baptist was posed by a young adopted cousin, Edwin Everett; and Nöel Humphreys, the son of an artist friend, sat for the young Christ. Tate

The atmosphere of this painting is really striking. There is a real sense of time stopping, a moment of extreme importance which is recognised by everyone in the room. Christ is the son of God, his injury might not be significant but it would have been vital that it was seen to immediately. Mary knew what she was taking on when she said yes to God at Luke 1:38:

38 And Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her.

Mary and Joseph are aware of the importance of their son, but they also love him as parents love their children. His injury prompts a loving response of care and empathy. It also seems to prompt some fear from his friend and cousin John the Baptist. The reaction of the animals is curious also. Many paintings depicting the birth of Christ show animals flocking around Him. There are no mention of animals in the Gospels during the birth, but there are a number of mentions of animals throughout the Bible, notably perhaps in Mark’s Gospel: “13 And he was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels ministered to him.”. Though I suppose the sheep in this instance are closer related to Christ being the lamb of God, sacrificed for the salvation of mankind.

Looking at the whole picture, it shows a scene of the Holy Family in their workshop, in an ordinary situation where a child has injured himself. This is why the painting prompted such fury. The Holy Family were seldom if ever depicted in an ordinary scene. The Times called the painting ‘revolting’ adding that there was “no conceivable omission of misery, of dirt, of even disease, all finished with the same loathsome minuteness.” Charles Dickens was one of the most vociferous in its opposition, he described the young Christ as ‘a hideous, wry-necked, blubbering, red-headed boy, in a bed gown’ (Household Words, 15 June 1850). I think it is a masterpiece. It is provocative, to be sure, but Millais was one of the greats in the Pre Raphaelite brotherhood and an exquisite painter in his own right. This painting is moving for its simplicity and its humble brilliance. Seeing it, I felt a surge of excitement and awe both at the subject depicted, and at the bravery of the artist painting it.

It is in the Tate Britain in London, free for any and all.

St Joseph with the Infant Jesus – Guido Reni

St Joseph with the Infant Jesus – Guido Reni

This 1620 painting took my by surprise this morning. I was wondering out of my room about to prepare for the day and Nicholas showed me the Universalis painting today. Universalis is a wonderful app for Catholics with the Divine Office and Mass readings for the day, as well as the Angelus and Rosary prayers (and much more). Each day the app has an ‘About Today’ section where you can learn about the Saint of the day. Today is the Solemnity of Saint Joseph, husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Joseph does not say a single word in the Gospels but he is a very important figure in the life of our Lord. He was Christ’s earthly father and looked after Him, indeed taught Him carpentry, before Jesus went out on His ministry.

Guido Reni was an Italian Baroque painter. His works have been compared to those of Simon Vouet, Nicolas Poussin, and Philippe de Champaigne. Below is his 1620 work, St Joseph and the Infant Jesus.

 

 

 

 

This painting is moving for a number of reasons. Nothing is known of St Joseph, other than that he was a carpenter, he brought up Jesus, he supported his wife Mary (indeed, marrying her after she had conceived a child by the Holy Spirit), and accepted the will of God. He has been the subject of countless religious works. He is the patron Saint of artisans who honourably do good works with the gifts God has given them. In this wonderfully rendered painting, Saint Joseph looks tenderly down at his son, while his son looks adoringly up at him. The colours of St Joseph’s garment are striking, as is the softness of his hair, and the precision of the rendering of his beard. In the background, one can see an angel frolicking about.

This is a very tender work, which moved me rather. It is a source of inspiration to parents, and those soon to be parents, on the venerable and loving regard one should have for their children.

 

Madonna of the Magnificat – Botticelli

Madonna of the Magnificat – Botticelli

This blog has become something of a hive of Marian art, a change which I can’t say that I
foresaw!

I thought I would contribute to this flurry of Madonnas with one from Botticelli, best known for
his Birth of Venus. This painting is called Madonna of the Magnificat.

I find the colours and radiance of this painting almost intoxicating. As with the work of the Pre-
Raphaelites (about whom I have written before on this blog), who were partly responsible for
bringing Botticelli back to popularity in the 19 th century, it is not just the colours which
mesmerise the viewer, but the use of texture and light. The folds of luxurious robes draped over
Mary and the five angels catch the light cascading from the heavens. A gleaming gold sun beams
down on the serene Madonna, who in turn looks down at the Child in her lap. Their look of love
is at the heart of the painting.

However, it is not quite clear where Mary’s downward glance is heading, as she may well be
looking at the manuscript she is writing. As the name of the painting suggests, she is writing her
‘Magnificat’, her song of praise to God. It is one of my personal favourite prayers, partly because
in a world that tempts us to think negatively and think of all that we lack, it is a hymn of praise
and gratitude to the God who gives us everything we need: ‘My soul glorifies the Lord, and my
spirit exults in God my saviour.’ Whenever we see Mary writing or reading in art, we are
reminded that she is constantly dwelling on the God who dwelled in her; Jesus is himself the
Word.

My soul glorifies the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour.
He looks on his servant in her lowliness;
henceforth all ages will call me blessed.
The Almighty works marvels for me.
Holy his name.
His mercy is from age to age,
on those who fear him.
He puts forth his arm in strength
and scatters the proud-hearted.
He casts the mighty from their thrones
and raises the lowly.
He fills the starving with good things,
sends the rich away empty.
He protects Israel, his servant,
remembering his mercy,
the mercy promised to our fathers,
to Abraham and his sons for ever. Amen.

I think that a sign of God’s bounty that runs through the Magnificat comes through in
the lusciousness of the painting. The land in the background is fertile and green (albeit more
Tuscan than Palestinian!), the skin and lips of the angels and the Mother and Child glow with
vitality, and the light of the Holy Spirit illuminates the rich colours of their garments.

Perhaps the most interesting symbol in the painting is the pomegranate at the bottom. Again, it
is luscious, and a sign of God’s bounty, and also of his humility; it is a jarring and wondrous thing
to think of God being fed by Mary, a human. Fruit can also be a sign of temptation and the Fall.
Scholars believe that in this case, and in the case of Botticelli’s Madonna of the Pomegranate, the
pomegranate has a wealth of other meanings. It is considered a symbol of the heart in scientific
terms, and it has even been said that Botticelli was concealing within this painting a tiny
anatomical model of a heart (see ‘Sandro Botticelli’s Madonna of the Pomegranate: the hidden
cardiac anatomy’ by Davide Lazzeri, Ahmed Al-Mousawi, and Fabio Nicoli).

The hearts of Jesus and Mary are the two most similar hearts in history, both genetically and
spiritually. A pomegranate’s seeds might be compared to all of the things that St Luke tells us
that Mary ‘pondered…and treasured in her heart’. This painting, and the beautiful truths behind
it, has certainly been added to our treasure trove.

 

The Sacraments: Matrimony – Giuseppe Maria Crespi – 1712

The Sacraments: Matrimony – Giuseppe Maria Crespi – 1712

What is a sacrament? The sacraments are “efficacious signs of grace, instituted by Christ and entrusted to the Church, by which divine life is dispensed to us” (CCC 1131). A sacrament is a sacred and visible sign that is instituted by Jesus to give us grace, an undeserved gift from God. We covered in the last post the seven sacraments (Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Reconciliation, Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders and Matrimony). This year, I will likely be receiving the sacrament of confirmation, as I am working towards becoming a fully integrated member of the Church. Working towards this has opened my eyes to the marvel of the faith and its importance in our lives. Charlotte and I will also be entering into the sacrament of matrimony. I wanted to have a look at this painting with you, ahead of this wondrous day.

Jesus told the Pharisees, “What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder” Matthew 19:6

Pope Paul VI wrote: “By it [the Sacrament of Matrimony] husband and wife are strengthened and…consecrated for the faithful accomplishment of their proper duties, for the carrying out of their proper vocation even to perfection, and the Christian witness which is proper to them before the whole world” (Humanae Vitae, n. 25).

The composition of this painting is beautiful. The priest is standing over the engaged couple, who kneel at the altar. The light is falling on the priest and also the heads of the two betrothed, which makes for a beautiful effect. The bride has a rosary draped over her robe. The scene is plain, and the robe is not white or elaborate. Rather, the priest is the one in white in this painting. I imagine this was done this way in order to accentuate the importance of the sacrament, rather than the wedding itself. This was done as a series of paintings on the seven sacraments so it stands to reason Crespi would have wanted to keep the focus on the sacrament itself. The couple here are confecting the sacrament of marriage. This is a very important moment in the Mass, which I look forward to taking part in later this year.

This is a beautiful painting which represents a beautiful moment. Charlotte and I have both said the Nuptual Mass is the part of our wedding day we are most looking forward to (as well as the panettone bread and butter pudding).

The Confession – Giuseppe Molteni (1838)

The Confession – Giuseppe Molteni (1838)

I came across this painting as it was the feature image on an article by a priest who was rather upset at Pope Francis’ off the cuff remark that nobody should be denied absolution in the confessional. This is not in line with the Church’s teaching, which states clearly that if a sinner is not repentant, he should not be given absolution (essentially wiping the slate clean) in the confessional. In any case, the painting is quite striking.

The sweet yet pert woman kneeling in the confessional was thought by some contemporary critics to represent a young mother who had yielded to the advances of an admirer. Meticulously captured in all the details of furnishing and dress, the contemporary scene was instead seen by the Catholic critic Pietro Estense Selvatico as designed to illustrate the moral beauty of everyday life. Google Arts & Culture

This is a beautiful painting, to me. The situation is not necessarily in keeping with confessionals which I have seen, most of which are closed and private, but it is impressive nonetheless. A young lady is kneeling in humility on the outside of a confessional box. A priest, wearing a beautiful purple stole is listening attentively to her words. Confession involves a a ritual praying for the healing of a person from the power of evil and a reunion with the God. I won’t go into any great depth about sin here, but I wanted to include the wording of absolution which the priest utters, after hearing a confession (and if the penitent makes a firm purpose of amendment, mind you):

God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Part of the reason I wanted to share this painting was to show you a beautiful work of art, with wonderful proportions, depth, colours and hues. I also wanted to pipe up as an advocate of confession as a humbling and beautiful sacrament. It is not something to take on lightly, but when done, we are kneeling in the confessional, speaking to a priest who is in persona Christi, representing Christ opposite you. Confession unburdens us from our sins, makes us white as snow, and is a humbling as well as therapeutic. It helps us to consider what we have done to put us far away from God in the week(s) between confessions. Considering what we could do better in our every day lives is key to continually improving, and building momentum in our growth towards grace and God.

It is said that this painting may have been inspired by Guiseppe Maria Crespi’s Confession, which he painted as part of a series on the Seven Sacraments (Baptism, Confession, Confirmation, Communion, Extreme Unction, Ordination and Matrimony). I will likely do a post soon on the latter.

One day Crespi saw a man in the confessional at San Benedetto’s confessing his sins to the priest. A ray of sunlight fell on the man’s head and shoulders, and was reflected inside the small chamber to produce the most beautiful contrast between light and dark that can be imagined. He [Crespi] studied it very carefully and, as soon as he was back home, did a small drawing of the scene. Then he sent two porters to fetch him a confessional, which he promptly installed in his room with staged lighting. He introduced Ludovico Mattioli, who chanced to be there, into the scene of the confession, and painted him so well that everyone recognised him, as they did the priest, who was the same person who had lent him the confessional.’ Zanotti further recounts that Crespi made a gift of the painting to Cardinal Pietro Ottoboni in Rome, who was highly delighted and commissioned the remaining six paintings. Web Gallery of Art

I will try to post more regularly going forward. Life does get in the way sometimes!