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.