Help Us to Train Catholic Artists of the Future

As announced, we are again making a weekly day of training in the academic method of drawing available to Thomas More College students as part of the Way of Beauty program and the college's art guild of St Luke. Students participating in these programs are keen to develop their artistic skills  while integrating them with an understanding of Catholic principles in art.  This is a unique opportunity for young people and the students who take this chance will be our future Catholic artists.

Each semester, many students are struggling to pay the $350 per year to study at the Ingbretson Studios.  This is extremely good value given the time and quality of training they are getting but to  our students, who have to pay for it on top of their standard tuition, room, and board at the College for the liberal arts degree, it is still a lot of money.  The $350 is coming out of their own limited funds.

I do not want money to be a barrier in the formation of Catholic artists.  Especially when it’s only $350!  This is why I—for the very first time ever—am trying to raise a little money.  I would like to secure 10 student sponsors at $350 each.  That is ten more students getting world-class training in naturalistic drawing.   If we can raise $3,500, this will fully fund these scholarships for an entire 12 months.

You can become a sponsor by donating here.  Your gift is tax-deductible.

When you make your donation, you need not worry about indicating what your donation is supporting.  Nobody ever uses my donate button anyway, so I’ll assume any donation this week is in support of these scholarships.

If you are able to sponsor two aspiring artists, please do so.  If are unable to provide for a full scholarship, please consider gifts of $100, $50, $25, or even $10.

I do not like raising money, but because 100% of it is going to help these young Catholics develop their artistic skills, I felt that it was important to send out an appeal.  I will keep you updated on student developments at Ingbretson Studios throughout the year.

Thanks for your consideration.

Thomas More College links up with Internationally Known Atelier, Ingbretson Studios, Again

Thomas More College of Liberal Arts is pleased to announce that once again that undergraduates, the college's Guild of St Luke will be able to attend a weekly, day-long course in academic drawing at Ingbretson Studio, the internationally known studio of Paul Ingbretson in Manchester, New Hampshire. This is ideal for those want to go to college and get a Catholic formation, but don’t want to leave their art behind while they study. Thomas More College of Liberal Arts continues to be the one place where you can study both. This was a course run for the first time last semester and it was so successful that we are giving up to a dozen undergraduates the chance to learn this traditional method again. Through this they will receive a training that will give them a level of skill in drawing that is greater than many leaving a conventional art school after four years' study. The photographs shown are of the drawings produced by last year's students.

Paul Ingbretson is a modern Master of the Boston school and is one of those I mentioned who was given his training by Ives Gammell in the 1970s. He has been teaching ever since. His school has an international reputation (we were all well aware of it, for example, when we were studying in Florence). He teaches the rigorous 'academic method' of drawing which can be traced back to the methods of Leonardo da Vinci and was used by figures such as Velazquez and more recently, John Singer Sargent.

By coincidence Ingbretson Studios is just 10 minutes drive from the TMC campus. Those who have a strong enough interest will also have an opportunity to train full time for three solid months each summer if they wish to do so. This is part of the college art guild of St Luke in which students are able to learn also traditional iconography and sacred geometry.

I teach a course to all freshmen who attend the college called The Way of Beauty in which students learn in depth about Catholic culture, especially art and architecture, and its connection to the liturgy.

 

Two Hearts Beat as One - An 'Original Copy' of the Sacred Heart of Jesus!

The painting of the Sacred Heart shown is painted by the Virginia-based Catholic artist, Henry Wingate. The process by which it was commissioned and painted is worth recounting as it demonstrates a number of principles.  Last February I was contacted several months ago by John Fitzpatrick, a seminarian at the Kenrick Seminary in St Louis, who has seen me speak there a couple of months before. He wanted to know if I could recommend an artist who produce a painting based upon his favourite image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus by the 19^th century Mexican artist Jose Maria Ibarraran y Ponce. I recommended that he contacted Henry and passed on the contact details.

I had forgotten all about this until Henry arrived to teach at the summer Way of Beauty Atelier at Thomas More College in New Hampshire, this summer. He had with him the finished piece of work., which was put on show at the college for the duration of the class.

He told me about how it had worked: he wanted to do the commission but was adamant that if at all possible he wanted to work from the original. After a bit of research he found out that the original was owned by David Pappas, a collector who lives in Minnesota. He loves the image and was very happy to make it available for copying. So Henry flew out to Minnesota and copied it there. I show some photographs of the work in progress, next to the original.

I spoke to Mr Pappas who was delighted to have met Henry and to have been helpful in the project. He told me that he enjoyed meeting Henry very much. He told me a little bit about the original. As far as he knows this is the only extant work or the artist, who was the director of Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Mexico City around the turn of the last century. It was commissioned by members of the Miller brewing family, who were Catholics and devoted to the Sacred Heart and completed in 1896.

In my opinion it is a wonderful painting (the original is shown right). Although from the 19^th century, it has a 17^th century feel. The restraint in the use of colour and his careful control of focus is typical of the earlier period (as many NLM readers will have heard me describe before). Also, he has played down the features of the face by putting them partially in shadow. This way he has avoided that look of a portrait of the boy next door in historical costume (which we see in so much 19^th-century and modern naturalistic sacred art).

This process emphasizes the importance of copying the works of Masters in the preservation and transmission of any tradition. Traditionally, the training of artists always included the copying (with understanding) of the works of Masters – Sargent for example, went to Madrid and copied every Velazquez he could see. This is not to devalue the end product. Just as the copying of icons allows for the creation of a new icon worthy of veneration, so Henry has created an work of art, itself worthy of veneration (once the name is placed on it, of course, in accordance with the theology of Theodore the Studite).

John Fitpatrick was delighted with the result: “I am very happy with the finished painting. I was interested in this project for reasons: I have a personal devotion to the Sacred Heart and this is my favourite image.  Ideally, the painting will hang somewhere in my living quarters when all's said and done, maybe even adorning an altar.  

“I'm also very glad to hear you're doing a piece on the commissioning process.” He told me. “I think clerics today--as well as laymen--don't realize that direct commissioning of an artist to create worthy art for sacred use is even possible and so it is good for this to be made known. I also think it's important to remember that it is through the commissioning of artists that all the great works of sacred art came about, but that they were not cheap; when commissioning artists, we have to be ready to bleed a little bit for the product.”  

High quality reproductions of the original are available from David Pappas at his gallery Strawberry Hill Ltd. Also, the original is for sale. Thomas More College of Liberal Arts is dedicated to the Sacred of Jesus and so if any readers feel inclined to buy it and donate it to the college, we would be happy to entertain approaches!

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Henry Wingate at work

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Public Lecture Series Scheduled for the Fall in New Hampshire

I have been invited to give a series of six public lectures through the Fall on traditional forms in art at the Exhibition Gallery of the Sharon Arts Centre in downtown Peterborough, New Hampshire. This is not a Catholic or even Christian organization, but reflects a growing (if perhaps not yet burgeoning) interest from secular circles in traditional art forms including Christian forms of art and this invitation is a hopeful sign. The first lecture is on Tuesday, September 6^th at 7:15pm at the gallery space which is at 30 Grove Street in Peterborough, New Hampshire. They take place semi-monthly in September, October and November 2011. In this series I will not only discuss the form of the Christian traditions of geometric, iconographic, gothic and baroque forms. There will be lectures also, towards the end of the series on how non-Christian art such as Islamic, Hindu and Taoist art and even non-religious 20^thcentury modern art reflects their respective worldviews. This is a distilled from my course, the Way of Beauty that is taught as part of the core curriculum at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts in Merrimack, NH

There will be time after each lecture for some discussion and for socialising.

For more details see here or the Upcoming Events page on this blog.

Caravaggio and His Followers - An Exhibition in Ottowa

Thanks go to a reader who told me about an exhibition of the works of Caravaggio and his followers taking place at the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa. It's too far away from where I live me to get to it, but it seemed such an interesting theme that I felt compelled to write about it anyway! It acknowledges the influence that this great artist had on the art of the Catholic Counter Reformation. Also, the lists of artists featured gives many familiar names but some not so familiar (ie some I hadn't heard of!) whose work is high quality and this represented a fruitful new seam of interest to me to mine. Working at the period around the beginning of the 17^th century, Caravaggio is often credited as the artist whose work marks the beginning of the baroque period. He developed the visual language of light and dark that characterizes the baroque period by imbuing with a spiritual significance. He also became the figurehead of the more naturalistic stream of artists of the 17^th century baroque, who emphasised very strongly painting what is seen directly onto the canvas. He stood against a group that saw themselves as drawing on classical themes more strongly, with Annibale Caracci as their talisman. Caracci and the classisists, who would later include figures such as Poussin, looked to the work of Raphael and had a more widely coloured and polished feel in their work. Compositionally the work of the more naturalistic group used often depicted figures in contemporary clothes, whereas the classicist stream (and here I characterise the extremes) tended to paint everything as though it was a scene out of ancient Rome. Their methods differed slightly too. Although both emphasised observation from nature very strongly, Caravaggio would paint directly onto the canvas from models, while Carracci would happily base his compositions on drawings and studies of models.

What is interesting is how many artists are listed as being ‘followers’ of Caravaggio. Many would be considered artists in their own right – Ribera, George de la Tour. These would not normally be considered followers in the sense of being in a Caravaggio school, but given that a crucial part of the training of all artists was the copying of masters, I’m guessing that at the very least, they will have copied Caravaggio’s work at some stage at the very least, and this is the reason for their inclusion. The National Gallery acknowledges this broader focus, saying that works are ‘by painters who had direct knowledge of his work, as well as those who were active in Rome during his lifetime and in the first few decades after his death.’ I think that it is all the more interesting for this.

Rubens is another example of one of these artists who would not be classified as a follower of Caravaggio in the usual sense of the word, but is worthy of consideration here. We know from his writings that he was very careful about which Masters he copied as he felt it would influence strongly the taste of the artist. For example, he implored artists not just draw casts for practice, but to consider carefully which casts they drew and only pick the most beautiful because this would influence the work they produced, which is never solely a reproduction of what is seen.

The commentary of this exhibition tells us that even Caravaggio modified what he saw to some degree: ‘He painted directly from live models posed before him in the studio, studying how the light fell over them, and observing the different textures and surfaces. He then transformed what he saw before him with his own distinct artistic vision. As one of his patrons once said his works were “painted partly from observation of reality, partly from his imagination.”’

The imagination is molded by the art we copy, hence Rubens’s concern.

The artists whose works are shown in the exhibition include many that are not household names, and not all sacred art. However, the style is all derived from that which developed as part of the sacred art and speaks of the power of Catholic culture at the time. The images shown here are works of sacred art by some of the lesser names of the exhibition. They are paintings that caught my eye as I was doing my own research and are not necessarily in the exhibition itself.

Above, right: Simon Vouet, the Fortune Teller

Triphome Bigot, St Sebastien

Nicolas Regnier, St Matthew

Lionel Spinada, St Jerome

Gerrit van Honthorst, St Joseph in his Workshop

More Details of the Discernment Process of the Catherine of Siena

By Fr Michael Fones OP When I wrote last month, here, about the Catherine of Siena Institute and their process of discernment, Fr Michael Fones of the Institute contacted me with further information about their program. He posted it as a comment on the original, which you can read here. To summarise the first article: I described their process of examination of the past to discern if there might be special gifts that we have that indicate a charism. He wished to add more detail, about a refinement once the process of discernment once possible charims have first been first identified. I am very happy to bring this to the attention of Way of Beauty readers' attention by posting it more prominently here: "I’d like to add to your description of the discernment process, which you described in this way in the 7th paragraph: “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.”

While that’s true, it’s only part of the process. We recommend that after going through a workshop (either a live workshop or from a CD made of one taught by Fr. Sweeney and Sherry Weddell), an individual have an interview, as you did with me, and then select a charism for which there’s some evidence in one’s life, actively put one’s self in a situation where that charism may be called forth, and then examine the results. This would include the subjective results you mentioned – a sense of being energized during the activity, a sense of closeness to God or prayerfulness; as well as the objective results – what actually happened, and what kind of feedback from others did you receive.

So, for example, if there’s some evidence I may have a charism of teaching, I can “test” for that charism by trying to teach someone *something* – like chemistry, or how to kick a soccer ball, for example. How did I feel while I was teaching? Did the individual learn? What kind of feedback did I receive?

This is an important distinction – the active “testing” of the Holy Spirit’s working through me or not. Because if I’ve recently gone through a conversion, or just been baptized (when the charisms are given), there may well be nothing to examine in my past! This is because the charisms manifest when several important conditions have been met: 1) my faith becomes personal [and although they are given infallibly at baptism they may well not "activate" until I choose to follow Christ; the charisms are for others, and if my life is only about me... well, I'm basically telling God that He can't use me as His instrument]; 2) when I meet the persons or situations for which I have received the gift(s)"

Some Thoughts on How Criticism Might be the Basis of Constructive Dialogue

I wrote this article in response to some comments and criticism of works of art made by readers on another blog after my earlier article on the work of the Spanish artist Kiko; many of my remarks about the tone of the commentators does not apply to thewayofbeauty.org readers, who are always generous in spirit even when being critical. However, I thought that some of the points about the basis of criticism might be of interest to you, so I reproduce it here... It seems to be an aspect of human nature that criticism flows more easily than praise, and this is never more apparent in the comments at the bottom of blogs! However, some subjects particularly seem to attract the concern of readers and whenever I feature art that draws on the iconographic prototype but deviates from Russian or Greek variants, I always hold my breath. I know it will attract a hail of criticism from people who worry that it does not conform to what they believe to be the standard for all sacred art. Criticism and differing opinions are not bad things in themselves. After all, we are trying to re-establish a culture of beauty in the West and beauty by its very nature it is difficult to pin down precisely. One should expect differing reactions and ideas of what is good. So please, let’s have them. However, I would like to make some points about the nature and tone of some of the criticisms made. First, a request: if you are stating opinions, please do so in the spirit that concedes that others may have other perfectly valid opinions. Like email, blog comments seem to be a forum in which it is difficult not to express things abruptly and so appear rude. It’s not always easy I know, to make sure that what we write has a gentle manner. I would ask us all to try. Aside from discouraging the more timid to respond, for fear of getting more of the same thrown back at them, my concern here is for any contemporary artists whose work I am portraying. Artists must expect criticism of their work, but they should not have to put up with rudeness. Sometimes in embarrassment, I have had felt compelled to contact the artists to them for tone of the comments. If you can explain why you think as you do, that would be helpful, especially if you don’t like something. If you do not, then what you are giving us is just a subjective opinion. I am not suggesting that we always have to justify our opinions. After all, we’re not always sure ourselves why like or don’t like something. But if they are opinions, let’s make it clear that this is all they are rather than presenting them as indisputable truths. For example, one work of art was dismissed brusquely ‘pseudo-Byzantine fluff’. Without explanation this amounts to little more than the equivalent of blowing a raspberry at the artist (albeit elegantly articulated). The writer could have stated in addition: how the art in question deviated from the iconographic prototype (which I am assuming is what he was referring to by using the word Byzantine); why he felt that it was wrong to deviate from the iconographic prototype at all (this is not a given); and also, what does he mean by fluff – if he is saying that it is superficial and lacking in meaning? If so what is lacking? Is it possible to characterize why? Otherwise, 'I don't like his work' says it far more accurately; and less rudely. There are recurring themes on the New Liturgical Movement comments section seem to indicate assumptions about what Catholic art should be that I feel are not correct. I make the following points in respect of these:

1. The iconographic prototype: I am referring here to the art of eschatological man, the form that portrays mankind redeemed and in the heavenly state. The icon is not the only legitimate form of liturgical art and there is no basis for saying that as a form it is superior to any other tradition of liturgical art. And Catholics are not bound by the iconographic form. Therefore, it is simply not a valid criticism in itself to say only that it deviates from the iconographic prototype. If you are going to say this, say how and say why this is problematic. Furthermore, the analysis of the stylistic features of the tradition and the theological explanations for them as we most commonly hear about today didn’t happen until people started to re-establish the form in the Eastern Church in the 20^th century. This analysis is still developing. For example, I was taught certain painting methods used in Italy were never used in icons because they contravened the theology that I was told was the foundation of the Eastern method. Subsequently X-ray analysis has demonstrated that this 'Western' method was used in early Eastern icons and might well be the older method of the two. This caused a revision of the statement of allowable methods, and the theology amongst the people who originally taught me. Catholics especially should be aware that this modern analysis of icongraphic form, though largely very helpful and important, is a work in progress and can sometimes reflect the narrow focus of the predominantly Orthodox who developed it. I have spoken to many people emerge from icon painting classes with the mistaken impression that anything that differs from the form they studied (most commonly Russian and or Greek) is not an icon and not true liturgical art. This is a prejudiced view that doesn’t take into account that there are many other forms, including Western forms, that are consistent with the iconographic prototype; and that the Western artistic tradition is richer, in the sense that it includes the icon but has in addition other authentic liturgical forms that not iconographic. Archeologism: the comments of some seem to stem from an assumption that culture existed in a perfect form at some point in the past and that the work of man over time has caused it to degenerate. The main concern for those who believe this, therefore, is a strict conformity to the past glorious (sometimes arbitrarily assigned) age. Working from tradition, in contrast, is more nuanced. It respects the past and does not seek change without good reason, but always seeks to understand why something was done in a particular way. It accepts that sometimes we must develop and reapply the core principles in response to contemporary challenges or if there is a need to communicate something new. Sometimes this development will be so great that a new tradition is established. The gothic is an example of this. It developed out of the Romanesque, which is an iconographic form, and became a distinct tradition in its own right that presented a different aspect of man. Dealing with imperfection: even if something is partially wrong or in error or even just disliked, it doesn’t mean that we can’t learn something from it. Christian art has always drawn from non-Christian art forms. It has been able to do so in the past because it does have some objective criteria which it can apply in order to discern what is good and what is bad. So for example, you see the first Christian art it developed from the late classical form. Some of the styles and subject matter remained unchanged, some were rejected (for example the nude), and then some features were added that were uniquely Christian. Readers will know that I am very interested in the re-establishment geometric patterned art tradition. Islamic art is likely to be one place that we look to in order to invigorate the Christian tradition today. As a general principle, given that we are in a process of re-establishing a culture of beauty, I would generally advocate a conservative approach to what goes in our churches at the moment. However, in the context of this forum, I am always interest to look at work by Christian artists that draws on these traditions even if it steps outside the bounds of what would be ideal for the liturgy. Flexibility and adaptability underpinned by good discernment is the source of richness and vigour in Christian culture. To come back to the gothic again. At some point an artist will have added shadow to the painting and although this had not been seen before, some who saw it will have had the confidence to say that although this is new and does not conform to the existing tradition, it is good nevertheless. No doubt along the way there were innovations and experiments that were rejected as a whole, but nonetheless contributed something to what eventually became an acceptable variant. To this illustrate this piece I have given below some that probably fall into the last category. A reader recently brought the work of the Russian artist Viktor Vasnetsov to my attention. He worked in the period around the turn of the last century and died in 1926 and his work is typical of much Russian sacred art of this period. This is a late 19^th century naturalistic/iconographic hybrid and is neither baroque nor the style of Russian iconography (it makes me think of an Eastern version of the Pre Raphaelites with its highly coloured, hard-edged forms). I probably wouldn't commission such a work today but I would be a lot happier walking into a church adorned with his art, as shown below, than the vast majority built since the war. There is enough here, I would suggest, for us to benefit from looking at it. When these hybrid styles always look better when painted in fresco, rather than oil, I always feel. Fresco is a medium which tends to look flatter and less sensuous than oil and so naturally diminishes some of the excesses of a naturalistic style.

An Account and Pictures from the Way of Beauty Summer Atelier

The Way of Beauty Atelier has completed the two-week workshops in both naturalistic drawing and icon painting It was a great experience for me. What was so pleasing for me was the number of people who came who are making a serious commitment to becoming artists and in one case an architect who will serve the Church and who are rooted in her traditions. I show pictures of the classes and their work below. In response to requests from a number of these students, we are already planning a series of events through the year and also the possibility of longer, perhaps six-week, residencies at the Way of Beauty Atelier for more experienced students who will work on individual projects and receive personal direction and critiques. I can't wait to see it happen. Some pictures are below. I would encourage readers to read a very interesting and fuller account by artist Gwyneth Holsten, who attended the naturalistic drawing workshop this summer and posted it on her blog. Some of the photographs used are from her blog posting. There are still spaces on the one remaining class in the Way of Beauty summer series, our retreat in creativity and inspiration, see here. This is a long-weekend even starting on August 4th and presents the methods that artists used traditionally to develop creativity and an openness to inspiration. As such it will be of interest to anyone who wishes to be creative in any field, not just art. We will include some lectures on the artistic traditions of the church to demonstrate the principles that we are seeking to communicate. So it will be of interest to art lovers as well.

Beauty and the Renewal of Catholic Culture by New Liturgical Movement's Fr Thomas Kocik

The following is short opening address given at a symposium of working Catholic artists that recently took place at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts. It is a message of great hope for the future of Catholic culture.

Father Thomas Kocik, contributor to the New Liturgical Movement web site and former editor of Antiphon, the journal of the Society for Catholic Liturgy, chaired the discussion.  He is a priest in the diocese of Fall River, Massachusetts. In his talk he tackled the subject right at the heart of any discussion about the re-establishment of culture. As he pointed out, the word "culture" derives from the Latin cultus, meaning what we cherish or worship.  Christian culture is thus centered on Christ, the incarnate beauty of God.  The "source and summit of the Christian life," (Lumen Gentium, #11) and therefore of Christian culture, is the Liturgy: Holy Mass, the sacraments, the different Hours of prayer that sanctify the entire day.  In liturgical prayer, art and culture—indeed all human activity— finds true meaning; for at the center of the Liturgy is Christ, the source and summit of all human hope.

The full text of his talk follows here:

'The Second Vatican Council described the Sacred Liturgy as “the summit towards which the activity of the Church is directed” and “at the same time” as “the fount from which all her power flows” (SC 10).

All the power of the Church flows from the Sacred Liturgy: from the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the sacraments, and the unceasing round of liturgical prayer offered each day by the Church. If one does not nourish himself from this power source at least at Sunday Mass and through regular confession, the  life of grace given him at Baptism will wither. He will risk spiritual death.

The Sacred Liturgy is the summit towards which all Christian activity — everything! — is directed. All human activity: political life, family life, social life, labor, leisure, the arts, acts of charity and compassion, even our struggles and suffering, find true meaning and fulfillment when they are offered to God and united with the sacrifice of Christ, the sacrifice of the Mass.

This, then, is why we are obliged (for our own good) to gather for liturgical prayer: to offer all aspects of our lives to God and to receive from Him all that we need to persevere in joyful service of God and our neighbor.

Now while Sunday Mass is a minimum, I would suggest that a Christian life, that any culture, that is not permeated by prayer is deficient. Another word for worship is “cult” and it is no coincidence that the word gives rise to the word “culture.” In a sense, our culture is an expression of what we worship – think of any so-called “cult figure.” And so, Christian culture is a culture in which Christ is adored, praised, loved, and worshiped.

Although it may only be possible to participate in the Sacred Liturgy once a week, we can nevertheless keep our spirit of worship alive through prayer. Some do this by praying parts of the Liturgy of the Hours, and there could be no better prayer for daily use. Others do so with prayers such as the Angelus, which raises the mind and heart to God at morning, noon, and night. There are many other ways of so doing. The point is that it is done: that, like the farmer in Millet’s famous painting L’Angelus, amidst the duties and distractions that our different states in life present, we stop and we pray. When we do that, we will have done one more thing that helps bring about a restoration of Christian culture, in ourselves and in our society.

It is very easy for us to lament the loss of Christian culture and to be weighed down by the secularism all around us, and from which at times even the Church is not immune. But we must not forget who we are: we are Christians; we have been given the gift of God the Holy Spirit through our Baptism and Confirmation. We are a people constituted by faith, hope, and charity. Yes, our times present their challenges, but what times have not presented challenges? Christian culture was slowly built up over centuries from the foundation of the faith and witness of mere handfuls of individuals who personally encountered the Risen Christ and who gave their all in proclaiming Him as the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Perhaps we have lost much in recent decades; but our task is not to lament. It is to believe, to hope, to pray and to work with integrity for a renewal of all things in Christ. If the Apostles and early disciples could lay the foundations for Christian culture, so can we. For they, too, had to deal with an overwhelmingly hostile culture that did not know Christ. They too, in confessing a relationship with the person of Jesus Christ, were met with skepticism and, at times, violent hostility. And yet, with God’s help, they changed the course of history and influenced the cultures of countless peoples.

Let us therefore prefer nothing to the opus Dei, the work of God, the Sacred Liturgy. And let us ever be confident in what good following this precept can yield.'

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 15^th 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.

Japanese Sacred Art

Further to a recent piece about depictions of Christ and Our Lady with the appearance of the indigenous people, here are a number of contemporary Japanese Madonnas. They are painted by a nun in a Carmelite monastery in Japan.

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, 6^th 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 18^th century. (It was not until the 20^th 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 13^th and early 14^th centuries has a style that is very closely related to the iconographic. Fra Angelico, in the 15^th 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 17^th 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