Mother of Inspiration
Icons of the Virgin Mary and the Rise of Western Art
By Ed Voves
Inspiration often comes in the unlikeliest of places.
I was recently moved to reflect on the importance of paintings of Mary, the mother of Jesus, by the massed displays of Mother's Day cards at the local supermarket. The flowery designs of these cards hardly rank comparison with Giotto and Raphael. Yet modern ideals of motherhood, like Renaissance Madonnas, trace their origin to a common source, to the ancient images or icons of Mary.
Icons are
one of the most profoundly moving art forms of all time. These religious images
remain a hallowed feature of the Orthodox Christian churches and are associated
historically with the Eastern Roman Empire or Byzantium during the Middle Ages.
Icons
devoted to the Virgin Mary, especially in the form known as the Theotokos
Hodegetria, were based on the tradition that St. Luke had painted a
portrait of the mother of Jesus during her lifetime. St. Luke was also the
author of the gospel that contains the Nativity narrative in which Mary so
prominently features.
The Walters
Museum in Baltimore, one of the finest privately endowed art museums in world,
has a rare, ivory triptych showing the Theotokos Hodegetria. Dated to the ninth
century, this icon was once painted and is thought to have been modeled on the
reputed painting by St. Luke. During the ninth century, this venerated work of
art was housed in a monastery in Constantinople, capital of the Byzantine
Empire. The original painting has disappeared, leaving the Walters Museum ivory
icon as a link with the ancient past.
Triptych Icon of the Virgin and Child with Saints, (tenth century)
The
Byzantine icon, then, is a living legacy of early Christianity. Among other
themes, icons established a convention for visualizing and honoring motherhood,
female spirituality and the sufferings endured by women in times of war and
persecution.
This essay
will certainly have more to say on the icons of Mary from Byzantium. However,
the greatest icon and image of motherhood that I have ever seen was not created
in Constantinople. It is Arshile Gorky's The Artist and his Mother.
The Artist and
his Mother was painted sometime between the late 1920's and 1936. Gorky's
heart-searing work exists in two forms, the somber double portrait, executed in
gray, brown and ochre, now in the collection of the Whitney Museum in New York,
and a more lightly-hued version in the National Gallery in Washington, D.C.
Both
paintings are based on a 1912 photograph of Shushaniq Adoian and her son,
Vosdanik, before they fled from Armenia to escape the Turks. The photograph
survived their perilous escape attempt in 1915. Vosdanik made it to safety,
later changing his name in honor of Maxim Gorky, the Russian writer who
championed the cause of the Armenian people.
Shushaniq
Adoian died from starvation so that her son could live. She expired in her
son's arms.
An estimated
one million other "starving Armenians" perished in the Turkish
genocide that is obscured by the widespread suffering of World War I and the
1918 Influenza pandemic. The Turkish government still denies it ever happened.
If the near extermination of the Armenians is recalled at all, it is because of
the derisive remark made by Adolf Hitler, as he planned the Final Solution,
"Who now remembers the Armenians?"
Arshile
Gorky, The Artist and His Mother, (1926-36)
“I shall
resurrect Armenia with my brush,” Gorky declared in 1944, almost as a direct
rejoinder to Hitler, “for all the world to see.”
A close
study of The Artist and his Mother reveals major differences in the way
that Gorky composed these portraits in comparison to what painters of religious
icons strive to achieve. Yet, I think the two versions of The Artist and his
Mother are real - and powerful - icons.
Religious
icons evoke the spiritual link between God and humanity. Theotokos
Hodegetria may be translated as "Mother of God who shows the way"
or "Bearer of God who shows the way." In these icons, the Virgin Mary
implores with her eyes and gestures with her hand for the observer to direct
his or her attention to Jesus as the "way" to salvation.
Mary's eyes
and hands are key elements of icons. A beautiful example appears in the Heaven
and Earth, Art of Byzantium from Greek Collections exhibit, which premiered
at the National Gallery in Washington and is now at the Getty Museum. The Processional
icon of the Virgin Hodegetria, dating to the last years of the twelfth
century, was held aloft for the faithful to behold.
Processional Icon of the Virgin Hodegetria, (late 1100’s)
The great
theologian, Henri Nouwen, evoked the spiritual forces at work in such icons. In
his moving book, Behold the Beauty of the Lord, Nouwen wrote:
The
Virgin's eyes are not curious, investigating or even understanding, but eyes
which reveal to us our true selves. Likewise her hands are not grasping,
demanding, or directing, but hands which open a space for us to approach Jesus
without fear.In Gorky's paintings, his mother's eyes are fully-dilated, deep pools of inscrutable energy. She is peering at us or through us with laser-like intensity. The hands of Gorky's mother are unformed or unfinished. Her hands look like they were wrapped in bandages covering wounds from torture or frost bite.
If you look closely at Gorky's mother, the realization slowly dawns that her body - hands and shoulder first - is being erased. Even as the "black holes" of her eyes seize control of us, she is fading from our view. We will remain bound to the presence of her son, however, by the effect of her fixating gaze.
This almost
exactly replicates the creative vision of the painters of Byzantine icons, as
Nouwen describes in his meditation on the ancient icon known as the Virgin of
Vladimir:
Her eyes
look inward and outward at once. They look inward to the heart of God and
outward to the heart of the world, thus revealing the unfathomable unity
between Creator and creation.
Gorky was
an artist in the Western tradition, one of the great Abstract painters of the
twentieth century. In keeping his mother's eyes directly upon the viewer of The
Artist and his Mother, Gorky ignored Western conventions of painting the
Virgin Mary that stretched back to Giotto in the fourteenth century.
Theology in
Western Europe during the Middle Ages accepted that Jesus was "fully
human, fully divine." This was true in the Orthodox provinces of the
Byzantine Empire, as well.
For much of
that period, Western artists conformed to the Byzantine icon style. The
Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York has works by a thirteenth century
painter from Florence whose name remains a mystery. The Master of the Magdalen
painted some of his works entirely in the Byzantine style. But a fragment of a
painting by this anonymous artist around 1280 reveals a remarkable change.
Here, a startling sense of the personality of the Virgin Mary is depicted, very
much at odds with the otherworldly demeanor of the Theotokos Hodegetria icons.
Master of the Magdalen, Madonna and Child, ca. 1280
As the
fourteenth century dawned, it was this new sense of the humanity of Jesus, the
Virgin Mary and Christian saints that emerged as the dominant theme of the
increasingly influential Florentine school of art. You can see this in the
unforgettable Madonna and Child, painted by Giotto during the decade of
the 1320's. Look at the way that the infant Jesus clasps the finger of Mary's
hand, which lovingly supports her baby son. This small touch is little short of
a revolution in art.
Giotto, Madonna and Child,
probably (1320-1330)
Giotto’s Madonna
and Child was in keeping with the Byzantine icon type known as the Panagia Eleousa. The Eleousa style emphasizes the motherly
warmth of Mary. But despite superficial resemblances, Giotto's painting is
acting on a very different emotional level. Giotto's Virgin Mary is an earthly,
rather than a spiritual, being.
This
naturalism in turn was promoted to the rest of Western Europe, initially for
religious works of art. By the 1500’s, greater attention and resources were
being devoted to paintings with secular themes. In portraits of aristocratic
women and their children, the stress on the humanity of the Virgin Mary and the
infant Jesus in earlier works of devotion can clearly be traced.
Paolo Veronese, Portrait of
Countess Livia da Porto and her Daughter Deidamia, (1552)
Portrait of Countess Livia da Porto and her Daughter Deidamia by Veronese exemplifies this evolution in the depiction of women in European art. Veronese was a Venetian artist, where Byzantine conventions had earlier held a commanding position. So the triumph of Florentine-style naturalism is notably significant here.
In
Veronese's painting, we can see the transformation of spiritual strength and
motherly traits of the Virgin Mary in both Byzantine icons and earlier Madonnas
from the Italian city-states. Countess Livia is now the focus of attention. The
spritely little daughter draped around her arm testifies to her earthly station
as noblewoman and mother. A matching portrait of her husband Count Issepo da Porto and their son Leonida would have
also established Countess Livia’s role as wife.
An
interesting feature of this impressive portrait is the marten pelt draped over
the arm of Countess Livia. The fur of the marten was believed to confer
protection on pregnant women. Countess Livia was indeed expecting another child
in 1552.
Marten’s
Head, (ca. 1550-1559
The head of the marten was encased in a golden, jeweled mask, making
it into a Renaissance-era rabbit’s foot. By a delightful stroke of collecting
luck, the Walters Museum was able to acquire an almost exact duplicate of this
curious treasure.
Countess Livia da Porto was no doubt a very devout Christian woman. Likewise, Christianity and folk wisdom maintained a long partnership over the centuries. Yet, the presence of the jeweled martin's head and the lack of any overt Christian symbols in this painting highlight the diminished role of religion in art by the closing decades of the Renaissance.
The status
of women in world society has undergone many transformations since Veronese
painted Countess Livia. The countess lived in an age of high mortality of infants
and mothers, an age of religious wars and rumors of wars. The jeweled marten’s
head is a symbol of a time we would not want to see repeated.
Is that
also true of icons of Mary in Byzantium and Madonnas from Italy? The “cult” of
the Virgin during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance represents an extreme
idealization of womanhood at the expense of actual equality for women in
Christendom. Thus, icons to a certain extent were products of repressive,
patriarchal societies.
Never-the-less,
Arshile Gorky’s The Artist and His Mother shows that the Theotokos
Hodegetria is still a profoundly moving symbol of female courage and
devotion.
The icons
of the Virgin Mary and the evolving depictions of the mother of Jesus
throughout the Middle Ages and early Renaissance represents a major advance for
women in Western society. In pointing the way to Christ as savior, the Theotokos
Hodegetria showed that the care of the human soul was a not a matter to be
left – exclusively – in the hands of the “Fathers of the Church.”
***
Text:
Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved
Images
Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C. (for the image the Processional
icon of the Virgin Hodegetria, which appeared in the Heaven and Earth,
Art of Byzantium from Greek Collections exhibit), the Metropolitan Museum
of Art, New York, and the Walters Art Museum, Baltimore MD.
Use of the
image The Artist and His Mother by Arshile Gorky was granted by the
Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, exclusively for this essay and may not
be reused.
Introductory
Image: Unknown artist, Portable Icon with the Virgin Eleousa, early 14th century, probably made in Constantinople,
miniature mosaic set in wax on wood panel, with gold, multicolored stones, and
gilded copper, dimensions: Overall: 4 7/16 x 3 3/8 x 1/2 in. (11.2 x 8.6 x 1.3 cm)
Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY, Gift of John C. Weber, in honor of Philippe de
Montebello, 2008, Accession Number: 2008.352
Unknown artist, Triptych Icon of the Virgin and Child
with Saints, tenth century, ivory, Overall H: 4 3/4 x W: 9 3/16 x D: 3/8 in. (12 x
23.4 x 0.9 cm); Proper left panel: H: 4 5/16 x W: 2 3/16 x D: 3/16 in. (10.9 x
5.6 x 0.5 cm); Middle panel: H: 4 3/4 x W: 4 9/16 x D: 3/8 in. (12 x 11.6 x 0.9
cm); Proper right panel: H: 4 5/16 x W: 2 1/4 x D: 3/16 in. (11 x 5.7 x 0.5 cm),
The Walters Art Museum, Baltimore MD 71.158
Arshile
Gorky, American (born Armenia), 1904 – 1948, The Artist and His Mother,
c.1926-36, oil on canvas, 60 x 50 inches Whitney Museum of American Art, New
York, Gift of Julien Levy for Maro and Natasha Gorky in memory of their father
© 2009 Estate of Arshile Gorky / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.
© 2009 Estate of Arshile Gorky / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.
Unknown artist, Processional icon of the Virgin Hodegetria
(front) and the Man of Sorrows (back), last quarter of 12th century, tempera and
silver on wood, overall size: 115 × 77.5 × 3.5 cm (45 1/4 × 30 1/2 × 1 3/8 in.)
Byzantine Museum, Kastoria, Greece.
Master of
the Magdalen, Italian, active 1265-1295, Madonna
and Child, ca. 1280, tempera on wood, Dimensions: Irregular, 29 1/2 x
18 1/4 in. (74.9 x 46.4 cm) Metropolitan
Museum of Art, NY, Gift of Irma N. Straus, 1964, Accession Number:
64.189.1
Giotto, Italian, probably 1266 - 1337, Madonna
and Child, probably 1320/1330
tempera on panel overall: 85.5 x 62 cm
(33 11/16 x 24 7/16 in.) framed: 128.3 x 72.1 x 5.1 cm (50 1/2 x 28 3/8 x 2
in.) National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C Samuel H. Kress Collection
1939.1.256
Paolo Veronese, 1528-1588, Portrait of Countess Livia da Porto and her
Daughter Deidamia, 1552, oil on canvas, painted surface H including addition
across bottom: 82 1/16 x W: 47 5/8 in. (208.4 x 121 cm), The Walters Art
Museum, Baltimore, MD 37.541
Unknown artist, Venetian, Marten’s Head, ca. 1550-1559, gold with enamel, rubies, garnets, and
pearls, H: 3 5/16 in. (8.4 cm), The Walters
Art Museum, Baltimore, MD 57.1982
