I do not know much about this artist. I understand that he was born in Mora in Sweden, between two lakes (the Siljan and the Örasjön).. He studied at the Royal Swedish Academy of Arts from 1875-1880 then spent time travelling around Europe, painting. The lady in the painting is Emma Zorn, the artist’s wife. The painting, to my astonishment, is a watercolour, and was rendered in 1886.
I love water in art. In my early appreciation of art and exploration of art galleries I found myself drawn to paintings with water. The Van de Velde ship scenes spoke to me most. The above is a staggering rendition of a lovely episode on the water. Zorn has somehow managed, in watercolour, to evoke the fluid movement of the water on the lake. The reflections of the sun on the water and the perspective change of the water as it recedes into the distance and the movement around the boat are deeply impressive. But the mastery of the medium is not only in relation to depicting water and light, it also extends to persons. Mrs Zorn is being helped into her boat by Carl Gustav Dahlström, a family friend. Both of these are depicted accurately, I like in particular Mrs Zorn’s dress. The boat itself is painted exquisitely. The tones of the wood are shown expertly.
But the overall beauty of the painting is striking for another reason. When we were in France earlier this month, Charlotte and I went to town cleaning a pedalo so we could go for a ride (water-cycle?) on a lake near my grandfather’s house. This touching scene is reminiscent of one which we had after I was swatting out spiders and clearing leaves. The following few hours pedalling, swimming, reading and listening to Chopin were some of the most magical in our lives. She also read me some Keats which may feature in an upcoming blog…
Picture the scene, we have just visited the Château de Valençay and has a bellyful of Talleyrand (thought by some to have been the greatest foreign minister France has ever known). It is around 25 degrees and we are hankering for some food. In France, we discovered to our horror, one can only eat lunch at reputable restaurants between the hours of 12 and 2pm. Most kitchens seem to shut at 1.30pm so the dining time is even more limited. With this in mind, we arrived at Le Biniou at 12.30pm only to be told they were full. Charlotte and I began to sweat profusely at the prospect of repeating the ‘dinner dance’, where we would invariably end up eating at some inferior establishment. However, Lady Luck (who is not French) was on our side. Half an hour later we were seated, and short while after our first bowl of cider (it’s a thing), we were tucking into our galettes.
I’ll start where I must, with father’s bolognese galette. This contained, well, ragu as you can imagine but also an egg, cooked through on the white side and runny in the middle. This gave moisture to the galette itself and went very well with the very well done ragu in the middle.
I went for one with Emmental and lardons which was very welcome indeed. The ladies both went for la fumé, a special which contained smoked sausages and a combination of cheeses. Both were sublimely rich and somehow left room for the desert crepe.
For the desert crepe, we all went for Le Duo, which is a combined crepe, half of which is chocolate and half caramel, with lovely piped cream on the top. You will see we decided to point them all in the same direction ‘for the gram’ (though neither Charlotte or me have instagram, Deo gratias). The eagle eyed among you will also spot your humble suggester in the mirror.
Overall, I understood why this place is ranked so highly on Trip Advisor. This was an excellent eatery, really quite economical with delicious food which did not leave us feeling overburdened by lunch. Highly recommended!
Fra Angelico (‘angelic brother, a posthumous title) was born Guido di Pietro in Tuscany around 1395. He trained in Florence as a manuscript painter in his earlier life. Later, he entered a Dominican priory in San Marco in Florence. He was described by Vasari in his Lives of the Artists as having “a rare and perfect talent”. As this Sunday is the Feast of the Dormition and Assumption of the Virgin Mary, I have dedicated this post to Fra Angelico’s breathtaking rendition of mystery.
The Assumption of the Virgin Mary is one of the glorious mysteries of the Holy Rosary. It is not in the gospels but there is a part of it in Revelation and another in church dogma. The belief is that when Mary came to the end of her earthly life, she did not die. After her dormition (falling asleep) she was assumed into heaven, where she was crowned with twelve stars. The below was Fra Angelico’s interpretation of the mystery, which was an altarpiece at the Basilica of San Marco in Florence.
The Death and the Assumption of the Virgin – about 1432, Fra Angelico
When I first saw this in the week I was completely dazzled and taken aback by it. The resplendent jubilant colouring and breathtaking detail struck me. Let’s take it from the bottom up. The dormition itself is painted with great reverence. This is a most solemn event. Those gathered are suitably mournful. A host of angels surrounds her. She is vested in brilliant blue.
In the lower one, the deceased Virgin lies in deathlike sleep amid a gathering of apostles. Four are about to lift her bier — you can sense from their postures that they are anticipating its weight — while others whisper among themselves or stare in numbed sorrow. Jesus presides over all, carrying Mary’s soul, in the form of a bright-eyed child tucked in his arm. New York Times
The top panel is the most striking. Four angels is in different shades of blue and white hail the arrival of Mary with trumpets. Their wings and the fabric of their robes is so very beautiful. Beneath Mary’s feet there are clouds and fronds of gold which remind me of a fine monstrance. The light goes from her feet and around Mary herself. This makes her look even more glorious than the bright blue and gold vestment she is wearing. The vestment itself is extraordinary. Several shades of blue, white and gold combine to give her an aura which is suitable for her new place of residence. The veneration with which Fra Angelico has rendered her is apparent, and renders the viewer numb in amazement.
The second scene, above, is about release. The Virgin soars upward, groups of angels execute a vigorous circling dance. If you look carefully you’ll see that their movements raise a breeze that lifts the hems of their gowns.
Close looking is precisely what this exquisite show encourages. It’s details that keep you looking: faces of saints as particular as high school yearbook portraits; Christ’s Passion as a stop-motion video scoured by grief and rich with Tuscan color; guiding stars that beam in the sky but also on Mary’s robe. Brother Angel was more a man of the earth than some of us knew. Ibidem.
Mary is surrounded by a host of angels in splendid vestments. There are so many beautiful colours in this painting, along with the gold gilding, the shading and movements of the garments, we are treated to a heavenly visual feast. The movement, incidentally, is caused by Mary’s assumption itself. Such a momentous event causes heavenly wind to blow their gowns away from them. God seems to be above all of this, himself encircled by a host of angels with halos, pulling Mary towards him. The scene is made even more magnificent for the bright gold foil backing it.
In the end, is this not what all Christians pine for? An opportunity to have lived a good life, run the race to the finish, and be brought to God after our passing. Christ died for us and for our salvation. Fra Angelico, in this overwhelming painting, has given us a glimpse of heaven. I trust that you, like me, will not forget it.
I was in London for a client meeting recently and Charlotte surprised me with a visit after I was finished. It goes without saying that the depths of my delight as this surprise are quite indescribable. One of our activities was to visit the National Gallery. One of the first pieces of transcendent religious art which we saw was The Annunciation by Carlo Crivelli. This masterpiece was completed in 1486 and is an example of the late Gothic Italian style.
Born in Venice, he absorbed the influences of the Vivarini, the Bellini, and Andrea Mantegna to create an elegant, profuse, effusive, and extreme style, dominated by strong outlines and clear, crisp colors—perhaps incorporating just a whiff of early Netherlandish manuscript style. Smart History
The Annunciation is a very important moment in the Gospel and indeed is foundational to the Christian faith. It is the moment the angel Gabriel came down from heaven and announced to the Virgin Mary that she was going to be the mother of Jesus. It is also the moment Gabriel announces that Mary’s cousin, who is a lot older, will also conceive a child (John the Baptist). I have included the full reading and the full painting below:
Luke 1:26-38
26 The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth,
27 to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.
28 And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.”
29 But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
30 Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God.
31 Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus.
32 He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father,
33 and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.”
34 But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?”
35 And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.
36 And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren;
37 for nothing will be impossible for God.”
38 Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
The below is the upper part of the painting which was the first to transfix me. The way the Holy Spirit comes down from heaven through a swirling vortex and passes through a small golden arched aperture was very moving to me. The strands of light surrounding it look like the strands surrounding the vortex look like the decorations around the host in a monstrance. The gold detailing around the fascia are absolutely incredible to me. Again this is a painting from 1486. The way Crivelli brought out the detailing in this painting astonishes me. Every square centimetre has been considered and rendered with such mastery that I am lost for words. Look at the draped carpet in the top right corner and the colours on it.
Below is the lower part of the painting. I love how the frame of the painting matches the render on the room. On the bottom left we have the angel Gabriel and St Emidius with the Italian town of Ascoli Piceno, of which he is patron Saint. It also shows the beam of the Holy Spirit entering the Virgin Mary and the Holy Spirit represented as a bird. The detailing in this is exquisite, the folded fabric of Gabriel, St Emidius and Mary’s clothing, the grille and plant on the window sill, the gold and red thread of Mary’s bedding, the items on the shelving and the book holder where Mary is reading scripture paint a beautiful picture. Libertas Ecclesiatica is written under this scene:
The inscription along the base of the painting reads “Libertas Ecclesiastica” (church liberty), and refers to Ascoli’s right to self-government, free from the interference of the Pope, a right granted to the town by Sixtus IV in 1482. The news reached Ascoli on 25 March, the Feast of the Annunciation, which is probably the message the official in black is reading. Smart History
Emidius is the patron saint of the town of Ascoli Piceno, and Crivelli painted this altarpiece for the city’s church of the Santissima Annunciazione (the Holy Annunciation). A proud citizen, Emidius seems to have hurried to catch up to Gabriel to proudly show off his detailed model of the town, which he holds rather gingerly, as though the paint hasn’t quite dried. Ibidem
It is unusual to see Gabriel and Mary separate but the message is just as striking: the beautiful joyful mystery of the annunciation. Mary has been chosen to carry the saviour of the world and will forever be called blessed. This painting is an absolute joy and likely was part of the inspiration of the Pre-Raphaelite works which Charlotte and I so love.
48 From now on, all generations will call me blessed.
During the July heatwave, I yielded to the badgering recommendation of a good friend and invited Cedric and Nick to join me in watching A Hidden Life. Sitting in the stifling heat in stunned silence after the film, we all agreed that it was a devastatingly beautiful work of art that would stay with us for the rest of our lives.
A Hidden Life takes its title from George Eliot’s Middlemarch: …for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs. Eliot in turn derived the phrase from St Paul’s Letter to the Colossians: Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God (Colossians 3:2). Both Eliot and St Paul are saying that being a disciple of Christ is not merely about “being nice”; it ushers in a new life and transforms us, calling us to live not for fame or recognition, but for God. Encountering Christ and living in his light means that while we have a duty to share that light with others, we also live a ‘hidden life’ with him that is often contrary to the life that the world tells us we ought to live.
Without resorting to dialogue, Diehl conveys untapped reservoirs of doubt and torment over what his principles mean for his family. When, in the second half, Malick leans into the Christ parallels in the story, Diehl always keeps Franz human and grounded. Empire
The film follows the extraordinary choice made by Blessed Franz Jägerstätter as a result of this ‘hidden life’ with Christ. Franz was an Austrian farmer who worked the land in the small village of St Radegund to support his wife Franziska (or Fani) and their three daughters. When war broke out, Franz refused to swear allegiance to Hitler or fight for him, and as a result was arrested, imprisoned, and eventually executed. His family faced hardship without him, both because they had lost a husband and a father and because the villagers saw Franz as a traitor and refused to help his family. Scenes are cut between Franz’ imprisonment and Fani’s constant struggle on the farm, narrated by their letters to each other. Their love for God and each other is the burning link between Franz’ bleak, solitary cell and the sublimity of the mountainside farm in St Radegund. A question asked repeatedly throughout the film is, ‘what is the point of Franz’ refusal to fight?’ Brought up before various officials, Franz is repeatedly asked what he thinks he will achieve by objecting to the Nazi regime.
Every shot of the film is made of magic
Fani’s sister, who lives with them, asks how he can desert his duty to his family, who are left helpless without him, for the sake of his principles. One memorable exchange occurs near the end of the film, when Franz is talking to a judge who, like Pontius Pilate, seems to have the inkling that the man in his charge is in fact just and should be set free. The judge asks, ‘do you judge me?’, a question Christians are often asked. Franz replies that he does not, and explains humbly, ‘I don’t know everything. A man may do wrong, and he can’t get out of it to make his life clear. Maybe he’d like to go back, but he can’t. But I have this feeling inside me, that I can’t do what I believe is wrong. The judge asks, ‘Do you have a right to do this?’, to which Franz replies, ‘Do I have a right not to?’ The “results” in an earthly sense of Franz’ refusal to co-operate with evil are beside the point.
“Do you judge me?”
The right thing is the right thing; it is not necessarily helpful to think of what we will “achieve” by following our consciences, but simply to follow them. This radical choice is presented to us not always on the scale of the decision that Franz faces, but in the everyday fight within ourselves. As Eliot writes, faithfulness in things that seem, and often are, insignificant in a worldly sense, really does count for the flourishing of goodness in the world. Naturally, we were all in awe of this film, which was beautiful in every way possible. Every scene merited a closer look and immersed us in the Jägerstätter’s inner scenery.
But this is the filmmaker on sublime form, putting his artistry and obsessions at the service of something frighteningly relevant. Empire
The questions posed by this story are not comfortable ones, but they are necessary. Cedric and I were particularly moved by the love of husband and wife for each other, and their knowledge that their love for each other is a reflection of and a means to love God. Real love often looks more like crucifixion than a walk in a meadow, and A Hidden Life offers a stark reminder of the call to love, even unto death.
A question has been intriguing me rather: what are the factors for choosing AOTM? Is it the album I have listened to the most all month (which would be Confident Music for Confident People by Confidence Man)? Or is it the best album I have heard all month (Probably Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of the War of the Worlds, the more modern recording)? In the end, I have chosen Bliss Release by Cloud Control as it is the most suitable to describe my July. I wanted to play this at a dinner during the hottest day of the year but was constrained to listening to Andrew (Andrwho?) Bird. This would have been my choice and is one of my favourite summer albums. It was introduced to me by my father, whose taste in music is a strong redeeming quality for other nefarious aspects of his character with which one has to put up. I am sure he feels the same about me.
There’s an appealing open-heartedness about the debut from Australian psychedelic poppers Cloud Control, a sense of wide-eyed, slightly fried wonder. You might even pin down their entire worldview to a single line in the song Ghost Story: “I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.” Singer Alister Wright sounds so amazed by everything that one suspects he could conjure awe out of a parking permit renewal reminder. Guardian
There’s Nothing In the Water is very much in keeping with the Cloud Control theme, it is a cool, well produced slick piece of Australian psychedelic pop.
Gold Canary is the standout track on the album. The riffs, drum line and catchy lyrics add up for a real toe-tapping winner of a track. In a way it is about freedom and being released from one’s cage.
Just For Now is another perfect summer tune, which allows us to cruise along a mountain highway, or sip tea through a sunny Saturday morning without a care in the world.
This Is What I Said recalls Paul Simon’s Graceland with its African-inflected guitar line and Wright’s conversational but oddly stilted lyric: “She said, ‘Can you feel the tangible chill in the air?'” One half expects the next line to reveal the speaker is nine years old and the child of his first marriage. Guardian
This album has, in various comment sections of the sources I consult for making these posts, been described as ‘criminally underrated’. I am minded to agree. This is close to a perfect album and is certainly a very high quality summer album with ‘good vibes’ as the youth of today would say.
