Why Are Some Icons and Gothic Faces Green?

I always used to wonder why some faces painted in tempera had a green tinge to them. I had been told at some point, that this was the underpainting showing through and that the colour of the skin had somehow faded. This is possible: in the 15th century Cennino Cennini described a method in which monochrome underpainting is undertaken in terre verte, an earth green, before a thin transparent layer of skin tone, a pale orange, is applied. Cennino Cennini's method is described in a book called The Method of Tempera Painting). But even so, why put the green there in the first place? It was obviously intended originally to give a greenish tinge to the skin (even before the colour changed over time).When painting icons I was encouraged to use red and green washes in shadows but it was an intuitive process and I wasn't sure what principles were guiding me or why they were used (I probably hadn''t been paying attention in class!). It wasn't until I went to study portrait painting in Florence that I felt I understood what was going on here. I was taught that we see the deepest shadows are red or red brown and the half-tones are a green grey. The colour is obtained by mixing ivory black, yellow ochre and white. Ivory black has a touch of blue in it and so creates a grey-green when mixed with the yellow and white. The colour produced matches almost exactly the colour of the veins that you see, under the surface of the skin. So if you look at your wrists you will see this colour in the visible veins under your skin there. What the icon painters and gothic artists are doing is just what the portrait painters were trying to do: match the colour scheme of their paintings with what they see in nature. It shows that even in the highly stylised forms so much is based upon observation of nature.

Above: a study I made under direction in which the deep shadow lines are red (see the line above the upper eyelid and defining the nose for example); below: a mosaic by a master from Istanbul in which the artist has defined the deep shadow lines in a red brown colour, and the half tones are in earth green. This is handled superbly and has a natural appearance.

Above: a pastel portrait completed while I was in Florence the deep shades are red-brown while the half-tone skin colour is grey green; below: a portrait of 18th century society beauty Lady Hamilton by master George Romney in which he is very skilfully handling the transition from green to red as the shadow gets deeper. And below that is a self-portrait by another the 18th century English master, Sir Joshua Reynolds. Romney and Reynolds are part of the British school that can be traced back to Sir Anthony Van Dyck who was, in turn the star student of Rubens.

Work by Thomas More College Students Learning the Academic Method

Made Possible by the Generosity of Readers of this Blog. In the autumn I asked for donations towards the tuition of Thomas More College students who wished to take art classes at the internationally recognised Ingbretson Studios in Manchester, New Hampshire, which teaches the academic method of drawing and painting. The academic method has its roots in the methods developed by Masters of the High Renaissance such as Leonardo da Vinci. They are taking this training in addition to all their academic work at the college and are expected to maintain the same standard and effort in their academic work. I am pleased to say that two generous donors came forward and the money they gave helped two students to study for the semester. So on behalf of Liam Mitchell and Jaqueline Del Curto, I would like to thank you and thought I would show you the work they did during the semester. For both Jaqueline and Liam, this training is part of their career aspirations. Jaqueline wants to be and artist and Liam wishes to go into film and so this will develop his sense of how to communicate visually. They both realise that in addition to the training of the skills, they must have that grounding in philosophy and theology that will form them as individuals and enable them to understand how form communicates meaning. Accordingly they both work hard in academic and practical study towards being the new breed of ambassadors of the Faith, engaging with the world as part of the New Evangelisation.

What is the Purpose of Veiling? Can you Veil an Icon?

In a recent discussion about the tradition of placing metal cladding around some icons, it was suggested that one purpose of the cladding was to convey a theological message. It performed the function of veiling of outward appearances in order to reveal an inner, or invisible, holiness. This point is worth further discussion I think. My understanding of this principle is not sophisticated (and so may by flawed or incomplete) but nevertheless here it is: that in order emphasise the point that there is an invisible reality to whatever is seen, some of the visible elements are veiled in order to emphasise and so to reveal to us this inner reality. This is true for all veiling - human veils, humeral veils, chalice veils and so on. How does this work?

First veiling is not hiding. When veiled the form beneath may not be visible directly, but it is still perceptible albeit in a less distinct form. We know what is veiled. For example, the form of a person is still discernable when clothes are worn. The form of the chalice is still recognizable even when veiled, as much by how it is handled as by the outer form. It relies on our knowledge of what is beneath it. If we did not know what a woman is, or a chalice is, we would not have a sense of a chalice veiled, but rather of an object in which the fabric we see represents the surface of it and is intrinsic to it.

When we recognize a veiled object it makes the point that there is an inner reality that is not directly visible. So the veil is visible, but beyond it is the chalice, perceptible but invisible. In grasping this reality, it makes the point to us that the object itself, even when unveiled, has essential elements that are both visible and invisible. When unveiled, we can be so absorbed with the visible elements that perhaps we fail to grasp fully the invisible realities. So the partial hiding of the visible elements allows us to focus on the invisible.

In order for this to have any force at all, there must be invisible realities present in the object veiled. The human person is both body and soul; the body is visible, the soul is not. The chalice contains the wine in which after consecration Christ will be truly present, despite outward appearances.

Now to icons: if we apply the same argument, in order for the cladding on an icon to play the part of veiling, the icon must contain essential elements that are invisible and worthy of veneration. In point of fact the icon does not. Therefore, the cladding does not play the part of a veil.

Icon is an image worthy of veneration only to the degree that it is visible. The relationship to the person depicted is set up through the imagination of the viewer and by virtue of what is seen. In this sense the cladding becomes the icon and that part that is hidden ceases to be so. In this we follow the theology of Theodore the Studite, the Eastern Father who settled the iconoclastic controversy in the 9^th century. “Theodore quotes a custom already mentioned by Leontius of Neapolis and by Patriarch Germanus: once an icon is worn and has lost its imprint’ (charakter), it will without hesitation be thrown into the fire “like any useless piece of wood’. If the icon as such were a grace-filled object, nobody would dare burn it. It would in itself be some kind of sacred relic. Different from John Damascene, who positions icons and relics on the same level, Theodore the Studite sees the sacredness of the icon entirely in its character, its portraying depiction.’ ”(p226, Christophe Schonborn, God’s Human Face pub. Ignatius)

Organ Music by Frederick Stocken - St Gabriel

Here is the third excerpt in as many weeks of Frederick performing his Archangels trilogy. This is the third movement inspired by the Archangel Gabriel.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1MftfbE_O60&feature=related

Based in London,  Frederick Stocken is a composer who is creating modern compositions in the classical tradition. By this, I mean that he creates works that seek to follow traditional principles of harmony and with a melodic richness and complexity appropriate to it - ie his work is neither dissonant nor minimalist. I first became aware of him when he spoke to Joanna Bogle's Catholic Cultural Group in London about the principles of beauty in musical composition. What struck me particular was his approach to understanding the principles of the tradition in which he is working, so that he apply them in modern era. Much of what he articulated became the inspiration for my own approach to resurrecting a culture of beauty with a focus on art.

Shortly after I met him I heard his First Symphony premiered at the Royal Albert Hall in London. I am used to the concert program in which they lure the paying customers in by playing something familiar from the classical repertoire, perhaps Beethoven or Mozart, and then inflict upon the paying customers the premier of a modern piece that is so horribly dissonant and you hope you never have to hear again. It is so predictable, that whenever I see the phrase 'World Premier' in the program I wonder if it is just put after the interlude to raise drinks receipts by encouraging people stay on in the bar a bit longer rather than listen to the clashing chords. i have even heard Catholic composers talk about their aim of producing beautiful music and drawing people to God, and then when you hear the music, it is difficult to distinguish it from any other modernism. Frederick's work is not throw-back or pastiche, but unlike all the others, he is at least prepared to allow the tradition to guide him what he does and you can hear it immediately in his work.

For those who might be within striking distance of Leed in England, he is speaking at the cathedral there on January 4th. The title is: Sing a New Song to the Lord? Musical reflections on the sacred and the secular, tradition and modernity.

Here is an article I wrote about Frederick's music and his approach to composing, it is called Dispelling the 12-tone Blues.

Every Artist Should Read This Book

The Techniques of Icon and Wall Painting by Aidan Hart. This is the best art instruction book I know of. In my opinion it should be read and absorbed by all artists regardless of the medium and the tradition they are working in. It is available in the US from Holy Trinity Bookstore, and in the UK from publisher Gracewing's website, here. It has 480 pages, 450 illustrations and 130 drawings. It comes in hardback and costs 40GBP or $70. Aidan Hart does a wonderful job in explaining the methods of the media that he works in: egg tempera, fresco, secco and gilding, with great thoroughness and right through to varnishing and even photographic artwork for publicity shots. As an experienced practitioner and teacher he anticipates the difficulties and questions of the students at every turn. At every stage links what is done to the underlying principles of the tradition, and this opens the door to so much more.

First, once the parameters that define the tradition are well understood, it gives the student the flexibility to start creating original work without straying beyond its bounds. Hart takes us step by step through that process.

Second, for those working in other traditions it gives a deep understanding as to how form (ie style), choice of medium, compositional design, even the framing is affected by the invisible truths that the artist is seeking to communicate. The way I paint man is determined by anthropology – my understanding of what a man is. The reason that we can distinguish between different traditions, for example the gothic and the iconographic, is that each is seeking to emphasize different aspects of the anthropology. Understanding how the iconographic tradition is governed by these considerations will help artists in other traditions, for example the baroque, to see how the theology governs the form of their chosen tradition as well.

The first two considerations are what transforms an artistic style from pastiche into living tradition, that is capable of developing and responding to its time, without compromising its core principles.

Third, he gives a simple and easily understandable explanation of the different variations within the iconographic traditions, and unusually, includes the Western variants such as Celtic, Carolingian, Ottonian and Romanesque icons and explains just why they are iconographic.

Aside from this even much of what he is teaching at a technical level is of use to all painters: especially colour theory, harmonization of design, and the different attributes of using line and tone to articulate form. Although vital, drawing skill is not enough. Hart has as well a wonderful sense of composition and colour harmony and this book gives us great insights into how he does it. He shows us that as well as experience and good judgment, there are many guiding principles that the artist can make use of. For example, as well becoming lighter and darker, colours actually change in light in shade – a green might become bluer in shadow, rather than simply dark green. Aidan explains sytematically, colour by colour, how to adjust for light and dark so as to keep a coherent, unified image. In my opinion it is worth buying the book for his personal insights in this area alone.

All this is supplemented by over 400 pictures, which include not just complete pictures of paintings, but also many which focus on small details that what he describes in the text.

Aidan Hart is Orthodox, but he does not snipe at the Western Church (as sometimes happens with other Orthodox writers) and so Catholics can read and enjoy it without worry. That said there is one small note of caution: in accordance with St John of Damascus, he describes the icon as being ‘grace bearing’. Catholics should be aware that their own tradition can describe it slightly differently. In accordance with the 9^th century Eastern Father St Theodore the Studite, it tends see the action of the icon as one that is analogous to a sacramental, ie, that seeing it makes us more susceptible to the action of grace, but it is not in itself a channel of grace. I discuss this more deeply in a previous article, here.

This book is recommended as reading for anyone interested in sacred art and will, I believe do much in the future to aid the development of sacred art in the Church. Well done Aidan Hart.

Organ Music by Frederick Stocken - St Raphael

More video of Frederick Stocken performing his own organ composition. Following on from last week's posting of Frederick playing the last movement of his music inspired by St Michael, this week and next week I will post more excerpts from Frederick Stocken's trilogy of sacred works inspired by the archangels. Today we have the second movement from St Rapheal. For those who are coming across this little series of blog postings for the first time, I repeat the text that introduces my friend Frederick and his music:  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScW8NVsS0Ho&feature=related

Based in London,  Frederick Stockenis a composer who is creating modern compositions in the classical tradition. By this, I mean that he creates works that seek to follow traditional principles of harmony and with a melodic richness and complexity appropriate to it - ie his work is neither dissonant nor minimalist. I first became aware of him when he spoke to Joanna Bogle's Catholic Cultural Group in London about the principles of beauty in musical composition. What struck me particular was his approach to understanding the principles of the tradition in which he is working, so that he apply them in modern era. Much of what he articulated became the inspiration for my own approach to resurrecting a culture of beauty with a focus on art.

Shortly after I met him I heard his First Symphony premiered at the Royal Albert Hall in London. I am used to the concert program in which they lure the paying customers in by playing something familiar from the classical repertoire, perhaps Beethoven or Mozart, and then inflict upon the paying customers the premier of a modern piece that is so horribly dissonant and you hope you never have to hear again. It is so predictable, that whenever I see the phrase 'World Premier' in the program I wonder if it is just put after the interlude to raise drinks receipts by encouraging people stay on in the bar a bit longer rather than listen to the clashing chords. i have even heard Catholic composers talk about their aim of producing beautiful music and drawing people to God, and then when you hear the music, it is difficult to distinguish it from any other modernism. Frederick's work is not throw-back or pastiche, but unlike all the others, he is at least prepared to allow the tradition to guide him what he does and you can hear it immediately in his work.

For those who might be within striking distance of Leed in England, he is speaking at the cathedral there on January 4th. The title is: Sing a New Song to the Lord? Musical reflections on the sacred and the secular, tradition and modernity.

Here is an article I wrote about Frederick's music and his approach to composing, it is called Dispelling the 12-tone Blues.

Cherubim, Cherubs and Putti

How should we paint cherubim? Painting a spiritual being is always going to be bit problematic. The representations that we see are most commonly based upon those instances in scripture where they have appeared visually. Even then it's not always straight forward. For example, the vision of Ezekiel describes a being that is a compound image of faces, wings, wheels, mulitiple eyes, fire and chrysolite (whatever that is).Reading through the biblical passage, its difficult to imagine how everything fits together and if I had been set the task without any tradition to refer to I don't know where I would start. Looking at the various traditional images, artists seem to pick up on particular details and represent those and do not seem to try too hard to create a single picture with everything present. It gives me the impression that perhaps what Ezekiel is describing may not be a steady image, but shimmering changing picture in which different things stand out at different times. One thing that definitely doesn't come to mind, however, is a podgy baby. Quite how the figures of the Renaissance and the baroque equated these with any descriptions of cherubim from scripture I don't know. Perhaps there is a passage that I am unaware of that leads one in this direction artistically? If so, I am confident that a New Liturgical Movement reader will be able to direct me to the right place. And then, even if we've established that we can employ this form, we have to be careful to distinguish between putti and cherubs. The source of this style of image is, as with all the art of the High Renaissance and baroque, classical sculpture. Putti are impish, 'little men' that are based on figures such as Eros, non-material beings with mischief in mind. By the baroque era cherubs were represented in exactly the same way. The distinction was simple, if the painting was sacred, then the person was a cherub, if is was secular/classical, then an identical representation would be a putto. Regardless, this isn't something that will engage my thoughts for too long. I have no intention of representing either cherubs or putti in the baroque style. Much as I admire the baroque, this is one aspect I am not pushing to see again. I'm going to stick to trying to paint wheels with wings and eyes made out of chrysolite...however hard that may be.

Images: first two, iconographic wall paintings (I'm not sure precisely where they are); third: Christ in Majesty, 12th century English with four cherubim shown, each with a different face visible.

Below: Bacchus (putto) and perhaps the most famous cherubs of all, in Raphael's Sistine Madonna

Sacred Organ Music Recently Composed by Frederick Stocken

St Michael the Archangel Based in London,  Frederick Stocken is a composer who is creating modern compositions in the classical tradition. By this, I mean that he creates works that seek to follow traditional principles of harmony and with a melodic richness and complexity appropriate to it - ie his work is neither dissonant nor minimalist. I first became aware of him when he spoke to Joanna Bogle's Catholic Cultural Group in London about the principles of beauty in musical composition. What struck me particular was his approach to understanding the principles of the tradition in which he is working, so that he apply them in modern era. Much of what he articulated became the inspiration for my own approach to resurrecting a culture of beauty with a focus on art. Shortly after I met him I heard his First Symphony premiered at the Royal Albert Hall in London. I am used to the concert program in which they lure the paying customers in by playing something familiar from the classical repertoire, perhaps Beethoven or Mozart, and then inflict upon the paying customers the premier of a modern piece that is so horribly dissonant and you hope you never have to hear again. It is so predictable, that whenever I see the phrase 'World Premier' in the program I wonder if it is just put after the interlude to raise drinks receipts by encouraging people stay on in the bar a bit longer rather than listen to the clashing chords. i have even heard Catholic composers talk about their aim of producing beautiful music and drawing people to God, and then when you hear the music, it is difficult to distinguish it from any other modernism. Frederick's work is not throw-back or pastiche, but unlike all the others, he is at least prepared to allow the tradition to guide him what he does and you can hear it immediately in his work.

Anyway, make your mind up. Here is a recording of the third movement of his organ composition St Michael the Archangel. It was recorded

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Sn0R4aGjzY&feature=related

For those who might be within striking distance of Leed in England, he is speaking at the cathedral there on January 4th. The title is: Sing a New Song to the Lord? Musical reflections on the sacred and the secular, tradition and modernity.

Here is an article I wrote about Frederick's music and his approach to composing, it is called Dispelling the 12-tone Blues.

The Privileged Person - the Cosmos is Made for Man, and Man is Made for Liturgy

Both Modern Astrophysics and Ancient Cosmology Confirm that the Heavens Proclaim the Glory of the Lord and that Man is Made to Discover It I have posted a longer article (see 'Articles' page in this site) inspired by the Discovery Institute film, The Privileged Planet. This film used recent developments in astrophysics to assert that the planetry conditions that are necessary for intelligent life to occur in the universe are the same that will allow that intelligent life to observe the rest of that universe. It also says that the chances of these two sets of conditions occuring are negligible and point the fact that there is very unlikely to be anyother intelligent life in the universe; and that if the laws of physics and chemistry were the only factors contributing to the beginning of life, that it would never have happened at all. It's findings are consistent with the idea that man is hardwired, so to speak, by God to see the work of the Creator in his Creation; and that he is in a unique position to observe the that Creation. I love this film and often show it to our students at Thomas More College as it supports so many of the assumptions behind the observation of nature by artists. However, I feel that the argument could go even further. We could explore the question as to why God would do this?

To me it seems there are three great lessons to be learnt by looking at the cosmos. The first is the general principle that it's beauty causes awe and wonder in us and motivates us to wonder at the One who created it.

Second is that once having stirred in us a desire to praise and worship God, it then gives us the pattern to which our praise and worship should conform. The Church's liturgy is based upon the movements of the bodies in the cosmos. This then indicates why we have those institutions so hated by modern man - organised religions. Religion is not just a private affair, for if my worship is modelled on the cosmos, so will everybody else's and the end result is that we worship together. The cosmos is the organising principle behind organised religion.

Third is that every aspect of human work can, potentially, be organised on the same principle and historically it was. Christian culture has always been rooted in a reflection of the beauty of the cosmos, articulated numerically. In this way it participates in the beauty of God and both stems from, and points us too the liturgy.

The beauty of the cosmos, therefore, becomes an argument for the religion being liturgical, rooted in worship and not just morality. It answers the question, if I believe in God, why do I need to go to church? The answer is that in participating in the cosmic liturgy, we are opening ourselves up to God's grace in harmony with his offering of it. It is therefore, just as the Church tells us, the most powerful and effective form of prayer and therefore, the most powerful and effective route to a joyful life.

To see this argument developed in more detail go to the 'Articles' page in this website and read the article entitled 'The Privileged Person'.

The Apocryphal Gospels as a Source for Imagery

I was recently asked a question about the fact that many icons of the Annunciation portray our lady holding a scarlet or purple thread. This reflects a detail that comes from one of the apocryphal gospels the Protevangelium of James. The Catholic Encyclopedia describes it as follows: “It purports to have been written by ‘James the brother of the Lord’, i.e. the Apostle James the Less. It is based on the canonical Gospels which it expands with legendary and imaginative elements, which are sometimes puerile or fantastic. The birth, education and marriage of the Blessed Virgin are described in the first eleven chapters and these are the source of various traditions current among the faithful. They are of value in indicating the veneration paid to Mary at a very early age. For instance it is the "Protoevangelium" which first tells that Mary was the miraculous offspring of Joachim and Anna, previously childless; that when three years old the child was taken to the Temple and dedicated to its service, in fulfilment of her parents’ vow. When Mary was twelve Joseph is chosen by the high-priest as her spouse in obedience to a miraculous sign — a dove coming out of his rod and resting on his head.” In regard to this particular detail, according to the Protevangelion when Gabriel entered Mary’s house to announce the joyous news of the Incarnation of the Logos, she was spinning purple and scarlet thread to make a veil for the temple. She was chosen because she was a virgin. Mary with this detail therefore to emphasize her virginity. If purple is shown, it signifies also her descent from the royal house of David. If Mary is shown holding scarlet thread, the colour of blood, then this signifies the fact that the Saviour took flesh and blood from her flesh and blood.

The portrayal of Mary weaving began to occur about the fifth century onwards with basket and bobbin of thread. From about the ninth century onwards, the basket seems to have been omitted. The portrayal of the Annunciation in the West, seems to be less consistent in including this. I have shown a Spanish Romanesque painting that has Our Lady with thread, but not scarlet or purple. El Greco and de Champagne, in quite different styles, show a basket of cloth, but containing white material. The final image by Guido Reni has no illusion to the making of the temple veil at all that I can see.

How do we make sense of this? In regard to apocryphal writings, The Catholic Encyclopedia makes the point that it need not be a negative term, and can be interpreted as simply, non canonical. (No writings that are in the bible, therefore, New or Old Testament, should ever be referred to as apocryphal). Some apocryphal writings can be useful and some are heretical. I certainly do not feel qualified to sift through these documents and the supporting research which decides which are valid and which are not. For the most part, when there are details included that are not scriptural and which I do not understand, if they appear regularly make an effort to understand why they are there. If I cannot get to the root of them I do not include them. In this case, given that there is a long history of its inclusion and it does seem to have accepted as valid, I might include it if asked. Given that the source is non scriptural I my instincts are not strongly in favour and it would need to be well and truly embedded in tradition for me to consider it. One thing I won’t be doing is reading these documents in detail with a view to using them as a potential source for new symbols.

The Western portrayals often show Mary reading scripture opened to the prophecy of Isaiah: “Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son...” (Isaiah 7:14). Given the scriptural reference, my personal instincts tend towards favour this form.

Above: 13th century iconographic (Romanesque) Annunciation consistent with the iconographic style; and below by El Greco, de Champagne and Guido Reni respectively.

A Carved Gospel Book Cover by Jonathan Pageau and Andrew Gould

Here is a gospel book cover. The relief carving in the central portion is by Jonathan Pageau a Canadian based in Quebec and the striking veneer frame is made by Andrew Gould who is based in South Carolina. Both are part of a group of liturgical artistans who call themselves New World Byzantine Studios. For the icon painters amongst you, they make gessoed icon boards with raised borders as well

Andrew told me that the inspiration for the marquetry work came from both Christian and Islamic sources. I am interested especially in his reference to the crossover between the Christian and the Islamic in geometric pattern. We have seen it before in articles about Romanesque Sicily for example. Here, Andrew describes how he based his designs on Greek designs from the 17th century (when occupied by Turks) and also modern Islamic designs from north Africa. He wrote as follows:

"My design for the gospel cover has two sources. In the 12th-13th centuries, it was common for the western church to set an old Byzantine ivory icon in a gold frame as a gospel cover. Orthodox gospel covers are usually a little different. They either consist of one large icon covering the whole cover, or five small icons (evangelist around the crucifixion). The former is impractical for stone, and the latter too expensive. So I decided to go with the western style in order to accommodate one of Jonathan's carvings. The back cover bears a second icon, with the resurrection. In Orthodox practice, the gospel is placed on the altar with the back cover facing up during Paschatide, so this icon must be on the back.

The marquetry frame around the icons is a style that was very typical in Greek Orthodox art in the 17th century. There is still plenty of furniture on Mt Athos and other old Greek Monasteries that is covered with this sort of inlay. It is really an Islamic style of woodwork, still current on Moroccan and Egyptian imports. I find it highly flattering to relief icons, and it reads very well in the dim light of Orthodox churches, so I advocate reviving this sort of ornamentation for Orthdox liturgical use.

I used marquetry inlay banding (which is available for musical instrument makers) and salvaged ivory from pipe organ keys. There is no specific explanation for the pattern itself, except that I wanted it to convey the power and significance of the events depicted."

Society of Catholic Artists

I would like to bring to readers' attention a society that has been established, inspired by Pope Benedict XVI's call to artists to be 'custodians of beauty'. The Society of Catholic Artists, web site here, describes it's aims as fraternal, spiritual and intellectual. So it puts artist (and media professionals) in touch with each other; it promotes the idea that the work of the artist is founded upon his spiritual life and that artists develop intellectually so that they understand the tradition and their place within it. There is a strong emphasis on the liturgy and the events they have organised, each time in New York City, are talks and recollections organised in conjunction with Mass and, very encouragingly, the Divine Office. Two of the figures involved are very strongly interested in this connection between liturgy and culture: Fr George Rutler is based in New York and is well known as a speaker and broadcaster and is soon to be speaking in Boston Thomas More College's symposium entitled the Language of the Liturgy, Does it Matter? at the President's Council event on Saturday December 3rd at the Harvard Club (more details here). The is Fr Uwe Michael Lang who I remember from my time of attending the London Oratory, that beacon of beautiful liturgy in London. Fr Lang is a published author on the liturgy and his book Turning Towards the Lord had a preface from the then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger.

One thing that the society has avoided is endeavouring to promote contemporary art and artists. This seems to me to be a good decision. It is a difficult balance to strike. On the one hand we want to be encouraging to those people who respond to the Pope's call and are prepared take the risk and try to be those custodians of beauty in service of the Church. But on the other, how do we decide who has been successful? Inevitably personal choice has to play a part. Choice by committee, especially if that committee contains artists, always seems to move towards mediocrity. Artist's tend not to want to openly criticise each other, because they know that it then gives others assent to be brutally frank about their own work. Also, if competitions or exhibitions are held, then in order to have sufficient paintings to show, the organisers of any such exhibition must compromise standards. This immediately undermines the idea that they are trying to encourage the highest standards and undermines the credibility of their message, which in all other respects might be very good.

Behind the idea of having exhibitions and competitions to promote artists is the assumption that the top quality artists are out there, it's just that we don't where they are. In in the naturalistic forms I do not think this is correct. There are very few artists that match up the highest standard and we already know who the best ones are. As someone who paints, my belief is that at this stage our work is one of the training and education of artists and re-establishing the principle of tradition. Perhaps the next generation of artists will emerge as capable of emulating or even surpassing the glorious work of the past by building on what some us hand on to them. Many of friends who are artists, and some of them are in my opinion the very best of those around today, happily admit that they do not compare with the greats of the past, but hope to contribute to the training and formation of the next generation in service to the Church.

So bereft are we at the moment of genuinely high quality artists, that those of genuine ability stand out in the crowd and do not need to be promoted by a non-for-profit organisation. There are already enough channels of communication to get their work out there - today more than ever. Their work speaks for itself and looking at this, my instincts tell me that market forces are the best mechanism for distribution. Those who are paying, choose what they want. It's not perfect, but I can't think of anything better.

This does seem to be what happened in the field of iconography, where the reestablishment of the tradition began earlier (in the early/mid 20th century). We are now several generations of artists into this renewal of this tradition and we are seeing steadily more top quality artists who are getting commissions. On the whole, it is their work is their greatest advertisement. The lesson for all artists here is very clear in my opinion (and I acknowledge very happily that this applies to me): if patrons are not hammering at my door to commission work, then the one thing that I can try to change is the quality of my work. I must become a better artist if I want to sell more paintings.

For all this, and strange as it may seem, I am not pessimistic about the future. I do think that things are moving the right direction. We see signs of cultural renewal, in the wake of liturgical renewal (which forms arists and patrons alike). We should be realistic about where we are, but at the same time strive to encourage artists to continue to improve. It seems that the Society of Catholic Artists recognises this and aims to help them to do so.

The images are from the top: St Luke (patron saint of artists) by El Greco, in which he points to the famous icon of Our Lady and Our Lord, the 'hodegetria', that he painted; the ox is the symbol of St Luke the Evangelist and below an icon by an unknown Russian iconographer of St Luke painting his icon.

Should a saint always have a halo? And should it always be round?

When I was learning to paint icons I was taught that the halo is not simply an arbitrary symbol, but rather a direct representation, albeit stylised, of the uncreated light shining from the saint.This immediately raised the question in my mind as to the validity of some halos I had that were in the form of a detached floating hoop, as we might see in a Raphael or a Leonardo (whose painting is shown below). Although clearly derived from this original idea, it's form had drifted so that it could no longer be seen as uncreated light, but rather an abstract symbol. Initially, my reaction was to argue that this form indicated a lack of understanding of what the halo really is and should not be used. Then it occured to me that given that the art of the High Renaissance and Baroque is aiming to portray historical man (and not as with the icon eschatological man united with God in heaven), what the artists are doing might in fact be consistent with this. One might propose that because the aura of uncreated light, the nimbus, would not be as visible (to the same degree at any rate) in fallen man, even if that man is a saint. So it would seem that the artist might choose not to portray a halo very feintly, as a slight glow, or even not at all; or else to indicate sanctity with a symbol derived from the heavenly sign. We see each of these possible avenues in the art of the 16th and 17th centuries. As a complication to this, recently I became aware of different shapes of icons in both Eastern and Western traditions. I was giving a lecture at Thomas More College about the portrayal of the Trinity in art and one of the students asked about the triangular halo in this example of an iconographic fresco fo the Trinity at a monastery in Mt Athos. I hadn't really thought about this before and guessed that it was an indication of the Trinity but couldn't really account for it with any certainty. Then, the next slide up in the lecture there was a Velazquez with the same triangular halo portrayed as a detached floating triangle on the same person of the Trinity, God the Father.

Later , when digging around a bit to find an explanation I found this site, which gave lists of many different halos, here. This listed quite a number of traditional halo shapes, most of which I had not been aware of. While not always showing a clear understanding of the Catholic view of things, this is good resource, I think, not to say unusually attractively presented for a website.

So there are two different considerations that come out of this. First, in more naturalistic traditions, should it be retained. And second, should we change the shape of the halo in different situations?

My opinion on the first is that we can happily follow the example set by the Masters of the Baroque tradition and employ whichever solution of the three list the artist prefers, for each, it seems to me, is consistent with the theology.

In regard to the second point: for me the debate is similar to that in regard to all the traditional symbols. Symbolism is only useful if it helps to communicate truth. If only a few understand it, it does the opposite, it mystifies. We have to consider this when considering whether or not to resurrect a symbolic language of the past. So if the symbolism is intuitively obvious then it might be worth using; otherwise we would need a huge job of education just to get people to recogniseit. This effort would be to great to make it worthwhile, I suggest, except where that symbolism is drawn directly from scripture.

In regard to triangular halos: it is not drawn from scripture - I am not aware, for example, of Ezekiel describing visions of triangular halos; but you might say that when placing a triangle over God the Father, in these examples shown, because the known symbolism of three, that it is to large degree intuitively obvious what it is saying, so for this reason might be worth using.

In my own case, while I would not object to any other artist using a triangular halo for the reasons given above, I think am going to keep it simple stay pretty simple on halos: a gold disc for eschatological man, and no halo for historical man. This is just a personal choice based upon what I feel looks best.

From top: A triangular nimbus in an iconographic portrayal of the Trinity at a monastery in Mt Athos, Greece; the halo represented as 'floating' triangle and disc in Velazquez and Leonardo in more naturalistic styles of Baroque and High Renaissance respectively; and the 17th century baroque approach in Guido Reni's St Matthew portrayed without halo of any form.

Islamic Tile Patterns Point the Way to Modern Nobel Winning Mathematicians and Chemists

I have written before, here, how the study of sacred geometry and harmony and proportion can point the way to scientists, when describing the discovery of quarks in the early 1960s. Here is another example and the end of the story is this year's Nobel Prize for Chemistry. Anyone who has studied geometry will know that only threefold and fourfold symettrical patterns are preferred when covering large areas because patterns based on this symmetry will fit together exactly without creating gaps. The Islamic craftsmen of, for example, 13th century Turkey, overcame this difficulty by developing a system of longer range order and using irregular shapes filling the gaps, but creating the sense of a regular order. This way they could create geometric patterns based upon, for example, fivefold symmetry.

Move forward to the 1970s and Cambridge mathematician Roger Penfold developed the same idea (independently and unaware of his Islamic predecessors). He called his irregularly shaped insertions 'darts'. About 20 years later the similarity of Penfold's darts to the Islamic tiled patterns was noticed.

These abstract patterns could be extended into three dimensional structures and in the early 1990s microstructure of materials were observed by an Isreali chemist that included, in essence, three-dimensional darts. Here were real materials whose microstructures had been anticipated by the Islamic artists of the 13th century. The discovery of  Daniel Schechtman went against the established ideas of what a crystal was his work was not accepted initially. The lab that he was working for asked him to leave. Finally, his work has been recognised now, 20 years later, as ground breaking and he has been awarded the Nobel prize.

The study of traditional proportion and harmony is the study of the natural patterns and rhythms of the cosmos. For the ancients the starting point was those aspects for which there was a consensus of beauty, for example, in enumerating musical harmony. What is so interesting to me is that the patterns seen in a macro scale are observed in atomic and even sub-atomic scale by scientist.

It reinforces the point I made in my first article. That a traditional education in beauty will enhance the creative process. Even in scientific research, ideas are not generated by reason. The process of scientific discovery comes through the observation of nature and then 'seeing' solutions to problems. These solutions just occur as ideas or hunches. The scientist sees the symmetry and order in the situation and can intuit what is missing or what completes the picture, so to speak. Reason is used to test these hypotheses and to confirm or reject them. Of course, this also means that any discipline in which creativity is an asset would benefit from such and education...which is just about every situation in life.

There is another interesting aspect to this tale. It emphasises how the scientist, the mathematician and the artist are all seeking to represent the natural order in different ways, but in their different approaches arriving at the same solution.  The scientist is describing mathematically the order that he observes in nature; the mathematician seeks to portray perfect pattern and order in the abstract world of mathematics that conforms to logic and reason; and the geometer seeks to reveal the beauty of the idealised natural order. They are all approaching the same underlying truth and revealing it in different ways.

Book Teaching Icon Painting by Aidan Hart

It is with much excitement that I await the arrival of a new book on the theology, history and painting techniques of icon painting. I have just heard that this has now been published by Gracewing in the UK and he told me that as yet there is no US distributor. If anybody knows how I can get hold of a copy, let me know! You can see details on his website here.

Looking at the contents it is extremely thorough. It discusses the various styles of iconography, Eastern and Western. In painting techniques it describes, step by step with illustrations (there are 460 illustrations in its 450 pages) and covers both the membrane technique - where the form is modelled in monchrome and thin washes of colour are placed over before final modelling; and the 'proplasmos' technique, where the painter starts with dark layers of paint and moves to the highlights systematically. He covers egg tempera, fresco and secco. To have a book with so many illustrations of his work makes it worthy of consideration for that alone (it retails at 40GBP).Aidan is a superb teacher (the best I have come across) who in his classes who reduces things to underlying principles quickly and simply so equipping the student to do much to teach himself after he leaves. The reports I am getting from England of those who have seen it are that it is every bit as good as it promised to be.

As a faithful Orthodox Christian, Aidan has the prejudices against other, Catholic, artistic liturgical traditions and culture that one would expect. As with any book by Orthodox, Catholics should be ready for this, but in my experience, there is little that we should be worrying about in such a discussion of the iconographic tradition, and much to learn. Certainly I am going to find out how to get hold of a copy and will report as soon as do so.

Below you have some very rough step by step paintings of the membrane technique, in which there is an underpainting in monochrome and then transparent washes are applied over it - left to right, starting top left.

Latest Issue of Second Spring - 'In the Garden'

Those readers who have been following our postings on gardening will be interested by the latest issue of the International Journal of Faith and Culture, Second Spring, which is entitled In the Garden. It has articles by figures such as Cardinal Angelo Scola, Archbishop of Milan and Thomas More College's own Dr Christopher Blum. Second Spring is produced by TMC's Centre for Faith and Culture in Oxford (which is directed by Stratford Caldecott) and is published and distributed in the US by the college. Go here in the UK; and here in the US to subscribe.

Thomas More College's President's Council Symposium on the Liturgy at the Harvard Club, Boston

The symposium, entitled, The Language of Liturgy, Does it Matter? features Fr George Rutler, Dr Rusty Reno, and Anthony Esolen. At the dinner which follows, the keynote speaker is Fr Benedict Groeschel. The symposium and the dinner both take place at the Harvard Club in downtown Boston on Saturday, December 3rd. Last year's event at the same grand venue was a wonderful occasion that launched the vision of President Dr William Fahey that establishes Thomas More College of Liberal Arts as New England's Catholic liberal arts college and a beacon of both orthodoxy and the New Evangelisation through cultural renewal. This year's  builds on that theme by focussing on the liturgy - consideration of which mustright at the forefront and centre of any meaningful action to this end. All of our speakers have a deep interest in both liturgy and culture and so this promises to be a great occasion. Details can be found here.

All the speakers, dinner and symposium, are worth travelling to see. I am particularly interested to here Fr George Rutler speaking as he has shown particular interest in the ling between liturgy and culture and is one of the leading lights in the newly created XXXXX, which seeks to promote art and artists within the Church.

The Pope and the CEO - John Paul II's Leadership Lessons to a Young Swiss Guard

Here's a great book about discovering your personal vocation and how to work towards it. It is written by Andreas Widmer who is both the young Swiss Guard and the not-quite-so-young CEO referred to in the title. This book is simple and short (just 150 pages) but powerful. He engages us with many great anecdotes of the great Pope that illustrate his points and reveal insights into the man’s personality that I was not aware of before.  It was also interesting just to find what a Swiss Guard does (apart from standing still for tourists wearing striped baggy trousers). He builds on these tales with his subsequent experience as a businessman. There are valuable practical lessons for businessmen here, but it is wider reaching than that. It is as much about the realisation of personal vocation (Andreas's happens to be that of a businessman) and so is, potentially, of interest to everyone.

I have written before, here, about how I was inspired to believe that if we have faith enough to believe it possible, that a life of joy and abundance is possible for everyone. Much of what I read confirmed the guidance that I was given, and much adds something new and useful to it.

He describes very well the different types of vocation and how every single person has a personal vocation that offers them a life of joy and fulfilment. Every aspect of our life can be ordered to this calling and ultimately everything is ordered to love of God and our fellows on our final destination of union with God in heaven. It is our joy in the journey that will do so much to attract others to the Catholic life.

What is particularly good is how he tackles head on the question of earthly and material success. So many assume, I think, that we should aim to be as poor as we can and those who are wealthy are somehow less holy.

Widmar presents a different picture. Riches empower us to do what we are meant to do and so some need these things in order to be able to fulfil their vocation. It is a modern day noblesse oblige - the balancing of privilege with responsibility. He stresses how important it is that striving for these things doesn't detract us from our ultimate calling and the wealthier we are, the more important it is to develop detachment through personal discipline and, as mentioned before cultivating a joy in life that ensures that we do not rely on anything other than God to make us happy. If we strive for these things then we can be the example that draws others to the faith.

I enjoyed his explanation of how the spiritual life is not a handicap to business, even in worldly terms but rather, it is an asset. For those whose vocation is to be a businessman (an important qualification) then following the path of holiness in business will tend to encourage the flourishing of that business. If God intends someone to be wealthy, then holiness will increase their chance of success. It will enhance creativity, resourcefulness, efficiency and importantly more competitiveness.

This is contrary to a commonly held view that making money by carrying out the core business activities cannot be harmony with those actions that promote a more caring 'person-centred'' business; and leads to the assumption that a business must necessarily compromise profitability in order to care properly for its employees and customers. The message that I take from Widmer's book (and he speaks with some authority as an experienced and successful businessman) is that when the conduct of the those in the business reflects good values, it will add value to the goods and services offered; and give a company a greater competitive edge.

Widmer stresses need for prudence and guidance in making decisions where the options both seem morally sound. In other words how do I know not just what is good, but what it the best. He gives good advice in facing these situations.

There is perhaps more that could be said on how to improve prudence and creativity so that our actions are in closer harmony with the cosmos and the beauty of the Trinity: and that is through a traditional education in beauty. Also in regard to ordering the different aspects of our personal vocation, it is useful to take into account that man is made to worship God - it is intrinsic to his being. The liturgy is the earthly bridge to the heavenly realm, so if we are seeking to conform anything that we do to our heavenly end, then it will be a great help if liturgical principles come into play. These are small points in the context of the whole book and it's not surprising that they occur to me, as they are my particulary personal interests... so I would say that wouldn't I! So overall this is a great book and strongly recommended.

See more about the book and order a copy at www.thepopeandtheceo.com.

The Completed Capitals at Clear Creek Abbey Sculpted by Andrew Wilson Smith

Andrew Wilson Smith has now completed the capitals for Our Lady of Clear Creek Abbey in Oklahoma. Shown here are the clay models he made as part of process. Unfortunately I do not have photos that I can post on this site - some sort of technical difficulty that I don't understand! However, you can see good images of the finished work at his site here. Some readers may remember that I showed some photos of the work in its early stages earlier this year, here.The technique that Andrew uses is very interesting. He models it first in clay (this is the work we saw earlier). Then he makes a mold and plaster cast. Using this cast as a model he then sculpts the finished product out of stone. To help him he uses a device that was developed in the late Renaissance and was used a lot by sculptors in the 18th and 19th centuries. It is an external frame that is fixed to the cast at three points. Then within the stone he creates three identical points. This means that the frame, which sits around the cast, can be fixed to the stone in an identical position. From there moving armatures are used to measure positions on the cast relative to these three fixed positions. When the frame is transferred to the stone, the movement in the armatures tell him how far into the stone he must now cut in order to fix the surface in the stone carving in an identical position. In this way he builds up a series of reference points, just like using a grid in two-dimensional drawing, from which he can carve the final sculpture in stone. This method was used, for example, by the Nordic sculptor of the 18th century, Bertel Thorvaldsen.

Inspiration for Gardening in the US from Bodnant Garden in Wales, by Nancy Feeman

Nancy Feeman is working with us on the development of an English garden at the Thomas More College's new Groton campus development in Massachusetts. She describes a recent trip to the UK and a visit to one of the great botanical gardens there, in Wales, called Bodnant Garden. She writes: During the past couple of years I have attended the Way of Beauty Course and Retreat at Thomas More College summer programs and have enrolled at the distance-learning college in England, the Maryvale Institute on the course called Art, Beauty and Inspiration in a Catholic Perspective (available now in the US through the Maryvale Institute center at the Diocese of Kansas City, Kansas).  This summer I traveled to England for the final weekend of the Maryvale course and was blessed to be able to make a pilgrimage to St. Winefride’s Well (the Lourdes of Britain) and to Bodnant Garden in Wales.  Before I left I would probably not have called the trip to the garden a pilgrimage but now I am not so sure.

Wales is a country with more sheep than people (that is what the cab driver told me, so it must be true!), and Bodnant Garden is a hidden treasure in the northern part of the country.    Walking into the garden is like walking into an earthly paradise surrounded by the rural idyll of the sheep pastures and farms on the mountains.  This is the beauty of nature, but is different to an earlier experience of mine of walking through the Himalayas where the nature, while beautiful also and awe inspiring, is untouched by man (except for the surrounding rice paddies).  Here everywhere has been shaped by man and made beautiful, more beautiful, through God's grace and the vision of those who worked on it.

The garden is set on a hill and separated into levels.  On one level there is a rose garden and the colors are planted together moving from white to yellow, orange, pink and red.  We watched as the gardener held the rose branch so tenderly before he clipped off the flower.  The water garden holds perfectly formed water lilies, seven plants on each end of the pool.  Benches are on platforms throughout the garden and have been placed in the most perfect viewing spots beckoning to us as we passed, just asking to be sat upon (which we did every time we saw one!).  Here there is no separation between gardens and woods as one area of garden flows naturally into the next. The woods are managed and have been filled with hosta, hydrangea and many other plants.  Even the brook at the bottom of the hill is lined on each side with enormous blue hydrangea. Walking up the hill on the opposite side there are fields and one gardener carefully and methodically raked the grass.  It seemed to me that he should be wearing a Benedictine habit!

I have recently discovered the writing of the famous garden designer from the first part of the last century, Gertrude Jekyll. Her joy in her work is infectious and it is informed by her Christianity. She declares regularly that gardens are a hymn of praise to the Creator; and it would be difficult to wander through Bodnant Garden without giving thanks and praise to God.

Since my return home my heart always skips a beat when I see a lace-cap hydrangea that I remember so clearly from Bodnant and my visit has inspired me to learn more about gardens.   I hope to reflect in the future on the manner in which gardens, especially their history and design, have a part in the philosophy and spirituality of the Way of Beauty; and am looking forward to seeing how the development of a English garden, that has begun at the Thomas More College's new, as yet undeveloped, campus in Groton, Massachusetts, takes shape as we work on it.