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!

The Shadow of Death – William Holman Hunt

The Shadow of Death – William Holman Hunt

Holman Hunt worked on this between 1870 and 1873, on his second trip to the Holy Land. It shows Jesus as a young man, taking a break from his carpenter work, which he is doing with his mother, Mary. This painting is replete with details, as I have come to expect from my probable favourite artist (sorry Henriëtte Ronner-Knip). See the painting below.

Mary is kneeling, fetching something from a box. The eagle-eyed among you will spot the Magi’s gifts in this box, which she has kept from the birth of Jesus. We have just celebrated Epiphany within the Church, a feast where we celebrate the Magi came to Jesus and offered him gifts of frankincense gold and myrrh. The first to celebrate his divinity, the second to celebrate his kingship and the third foreshadowing his death. To emphasise this, the painting casts a shadow onto the rack of tools behind our Lord, giving the distinct impression his shadow is being crucified. This is an electrifying painting. We do not know much of the hidden years of Christ’s life. Several of the Gospels do not mention his childhood, and Luke’s Gospel stops at the finding of Jesus in the temple, which I covered in another post. This is a rare insight or impression of what Christ might have been up to in the years leading up to his ministry, which he began aged thirty.

The level of detail is astonishing. From the fabrics, to the skin tones, to the discarded red bandana signifying the crown of thorns Christ was to wear – all of these and more than I have the bandwidth to write about at the moment. John Everett Millais did a similar painting called Christ in the House of his Parents, which I shall cover in a separate post, because it is beautiful.

This painting was criticised as theatrical by some while it was first exhibited, but I think it is a masterpiece. It is grand and somehow reverent, pensive and remarkably detailed. Our Lord’s death and resurrection is at the very centre of our faith. It was foretold in the old testament and indeed by the wise men during their visit. To see it foreshadowed in such vivid detail here, is quite moving to me. I hope it is as moving to you.

Jaroslav Čermák – St. Nicholas

Jaroslav Čermák – St. Nicholas

Jaroslav Čermák (1831 – 1878), a Czech born painter, produced this beautiful painting of Saint Nicholas. This Saint’s feast day was celebrated on December 6th. He was the bishop of Myra, a city in modern day Turkey, in the 4th Century AD. Interestingly, he is one of the foremost Saints in the Russian Orthodox Church. He is the patron Saint of children, but not for the reasons which advertisements would have you believe…

Saint Nicholas is the patron Saint of children because during a grizzly famine in Myra, three local children were killed and pickled in order to be sold as ‘ham’. Saint Nicholas intervened, by working a miracle, and brought them back to life! There is a painting by Gentile da Fabriano depicting this scene.

He is also the patron Saint of unmarried people, fishermen, pawnbrokers, and the falsely accused.

This is very far indeed from the usual depiction of this Saint, astride some garish sleigh and pulled along by an assortment of ill-paid reindeer. I think the painting evokes the kindness and bravery of this Saint in splendour.

 

Adoration of the Trinity – Albrecht Durer

Adoration of the Trinity – Albrecht Durer

November 1st saw us celebrate the Feast of All Saints, a Holy Day of Obligation where Catholics around the world are mandated to go to church. All of the Saints are venerated on this feast day. We celebrate each and every one of the thousands of saints which are present in the body of the church. A painting which adequately reflects the splendour of this image is the Adoration of the Trinity by Albrecht Durer. Sometimes referred to as All Saints, Allerheiligenbild or Landauer Altar (Landauer Altarpiece), this 1511 masterpiece captures the scripture (below) beautifully.

The Great Multitude in White Robes

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”

11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying:

“Amen!
Praise and glory
and wisdom and thanks and honor
and power and strength
be to our God for ever and ever.
Amen!”

13 Then one of the elders asked me, “These in white robes—who are they, and where did they come from?”

14 I answered, “Sir, you know.”

And he said, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15 Therefore,

“they are before the throne of God
and serve him day and night in his temple;
and he who sits on the throne
will shelter them with his presence.
16 ‘Never again will they hunger;
never again will they thirst.
The sun will not beat down on them,’[a]
nor any scorching heat.
17 For the Lamb at the center of the throne
will be their shepherd;
‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’[b]
‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’

The swarming multitude in their great white robes are captured exquisitely in this painting. People from all nations are gathered around the crucified Christ, with fronds in their hands signifying martyrdom. Christ is suspended above the ground, on a rainbow as the below scripture suggests he would be. He is upheld by God and above both figures is the Holy Spirit. This truly Trinitarian feast of a painting is enhanced by the brilliant colours and variety of those present. In reality, the saints of the Church come from a huge variety of places, which confirms the universality of the One Church. the word catholic indeed means universal. This painting is a joyous celebration of the myriad saints of the Church.

The one sitting on the throne was as brilliant as gemstones—like jasper and carnelian. And the glow of an emerald circled his throne like a rainbow. Revelation 4:3

As we celebrated All Saints day earlier in the week, we are reminded of the importance of aspiring to sainthood in everything that we do while we have time on earth.

Sandro Botticelli – The Virgin Teaching the Infant Jesus to Read – 1480

Sandro Botticelli – The Virgin Teaching the Infant Jesus to Read – 1480

Sandro Botticelli (1445 – May 17, 1510) was an Italian painter of the early renaissance. Here, he paints Jesus’ mother, Mary, teaching the infant Jesus to read. Mary is teaching him from a Book of Hours. This is a Christian devotional book used to pray the canonical hours and was a popular illustrated manuscript in medieval times. I think this painting is exceptionally moving. It speaks of motherhood, learning, holiness and purity.

Symbolizing the Passion of Christ, the Christ Child is holding the three nails of the cross, and the crown of thorns. These are probably later additions, added to make the message more explicit. This is the conventional representation in the Christian iconography. In addition, the fruit in the bowl has an emblematic meaning. The cherries represent the blood of Christ or are an allusion to Paradise, plums indicate the tenderness between Mary and the Child, and the figs are characteristic of the Resurrection. Wikipedia

Mary looks down on her writing while the infant Jesus, distracted, clings to His mother, looking up at her adoringly. She is clothed her in her halo, clothed in what appears to be light or transparent silk. Mary is clothed in blue, which, historically, was a most expensive dye. Stones such as lapiz lazuli and sapphire, which were expensive, were used by Renaissance artists to depict the Virgin Mary. Blue and purple are expensive dyes and therefore used to show honour and reverence. This painting is replete with reverence and awe.

Supposedly inspired by Filippo Lippi’s Madonna and Child with an Angel, which is in the Hospital of the Innocents in Florence, this piece is one of extraordinary beauty. I like in particular the look Jesus is giving to his mother. Meeting some of Charlotte’s married friends recently, who have had kids recently, I understand the look which Botticelli has captured here. That love, respect and awe is something which all children have for their mother. In a similar way, this is the way that Catholics and many Christians look on Mary. This is the mother of our Lord who gave life to Him who granted us salvation. We ought to look up at her thus, and follow her example.

Another breathtaking masterpiece by the Renaissance master.

 

Christ at the Column – Antonello da Messina

Christ at the Column – Antonello da Messina

On this blog, I talk a lot about the more joyous mysteries and events of the faith. I am enamoured of the Virgin Mary and the magic which followed her through her birth, life, motherhood, dormition and assumption. Naturally I tend to shy away from the less pleasant aspects of the faith, physically. On Tuesdays and Fridays we pray the sorrowful mysteries of the Holy Rosary. These comprise the agony in the garden of Gethsemane, the scourging at the pillar, the crowning of thorns, the carrying of the cross and the crucifixion. Meditating on these helps us to come closer to Christ’s suffering and enable us to recognise what he has truly suffered for our sake. This deeply affecting piece of art by da Messina considers the second sorrowful mystery – the scourging at the pillar or the flagellation of Christ. Christ is portrayed here in the middle of pain, his suffering at the hands of his captors had just begun. The expression on his face is deeply human.

I am continually amazed by the quality of Christian art produced in the Middle Ages. This painting was rendered in 1476-78. Da Messina has payed extraordinary attention to the details in the painting. He has captured the skin tone, rope twine and shadow, sweaty hair, prickling thorns, and the first drops of blood from Christ’s head. He has even added in crystal clear tears. Christ’s eyes are turned upwards, presumably meant to echo his upcoming final words “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” found in both Matthew 27:46 and Mark 15:34. The pain and suffering in this moment is almost unbearable. The sorrowful mysteries help us to reflect on what Christ undertook, knowingly, for the defeat of death and salvation of the world.

What shall I render the Lord for all his bounty to me?” Psalm 116

God did not send his only son to this Earth to do away with suffering, but to do away with death. In Le Heurtoir, Paul Claudel wrote: “God did not come to do away with suffering; He did not even come to explain it. He came to fill it with His presence.”. God joins Jesus in his suffering. The mystery of Christ’s suffering, which is engraved onto his body, is one which should fill us with wonder. The weight of this suffering is never clearer than when physically represented in works such as this one.