Showing posts with label Michelangelo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michelangelo. Show all posts

Sunday, February 7, 2021

I Peter 3.18-22: A Baptism Story

 A baptism story. Noah as a baptism story. The author of I Peter uses it as such to highlight the eight members of Noah's family who "were saved through water." (I Peter 3:20) This text is read on the first Sunday of Lent in Year B. In the early church, catechuments would have been preparing for their Easter baptism. So, a baptism story. Eight people were saved. 

We are used to seeing images of Noah's ark in baby nurseries, children's Sunday School classes, children's book illustrations. Cute giraffes stick their heads out of open windows. Elephants' trunks are visible. Birds of many kinds roost on the roofline of the ark. We've turned this story into a children's story because of animals and rainbows. 

Michelangelo had a different vision of the story. In the story as seen on the Sistine Chapel ceiling, the Ark is in the background. The focus of the story is the people in the foreground. 

Michelangelo Buonarotti. The Flood. 1509. Vatican: Sistine Chapel. 

People at the lower left are moving to higher ground, trying to escape the rising waters. They are carrying all manner of things. Some are carrying the things of this world: pots and pans, casks, bundles of clothing. In the middle ground at right another group of people are huddled on an outcropping of rock under a fabric shelter being blown by the rising wind. In the center of the composition a small boat begins to capsize.

The ark moves off into the distance, even as additional people stand on the raft base of the ark, imploring Noah to let them in. Noah, dressed in red, reaches a hand out of the right side of the ark, pointing to heaven. 

Where are the animals? Where is the rainbow? They aren't here. 

Michelangelo has made this story about human suffering. How does that fit with the idea of I Peter 3 as a baptism text? How do we acknowledge the saving nature of baptism and the continuing reality of human suffering? Do we baptize out of fear of divine judgement? The story is easier when we focus on the pandas and moose and zebras. 

Sunday, February 2, 2020

I Corinthians 2.1-16: The Mind of God...Maybe

Who has known the mind of the Lord? asks Paul. (I Corinthians 2:16) Paul's question follows comments about wisdom - God's wisdom - and human understanding. Paul's phrasing seems to imply that no one has known the mind of God, though, he says, we have the mind of Christ. How could we human creatures possibly know the mind of God, or imagine that we, with our limited human understanding, could possibly think to instruct God. However, it doesn't stop people from wondering about the mind of God.
Michelangelo Buonorroti. Creation of Adam. Fresco. 1508-1512. Vatican: Sistine Chapel.
Michelangelo Buonorroti might be one of those people who was wondering. We're used to seeing Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling frescoes. The hands of Adam and God reaching out to one another have inspired movie posters (think E.T.), coffee mugs, t-shirts, and more. But recently the question as been asked if we've been missing a message left by Michelangelo all those centuries ago.

Does the Sistine Chapel ceiling show us the mind of God? Or at least the brain of God?

Here's a brain.
Do you think the flowing pink fabric behind God is designed and placed in such a way that it echoes the shape of the brain? We know that Michelangelo studied anatomy by dissecting corpses when he was as young as 18. Corpses of criminals were allowed to be dissected, and the artist reportedly received cadavers from the hospital at the Monastery of Santo Spirito in Florence, Italy. He also received special permission for additional anatomical study of cadavers. He probably knew what the brain looked like. Is this the artist's way of letting us see the mind of God active in the days of creation? 

We do see the mind of God in creation, as we see the mind of any artist in the works they produce. What does the creation - here, the creation of human beings - tell us about the mind of God? 
If you want to read more about this idea, search the internet for Michelangelo and concealed neuroanatomy.

For thoughts on Isaiah 58:1-12, click here.
For thoughts about salt in general (not specifically the Matthew passage), click here.
For thoughts on Matthew 5:15-16, see Art&Faith Matters on Facebook.

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Acts 4.5-12: Rejected

If it isn't the most famous sculpture in the world, it certainly makes everyone's Top Ten lists. And it perfectly exemplifies Peter's sermon example in Acts 4:5-12 (Easter 4B). Between 1501 and 1504, Michelangelo Buonarotti carved a standing male nude from a solid block of marble that had been quarried more than a quarter of a century before Michelangelo ever picked up a chisel.
Michelangelo. David. 1501-1504. Marble. Florence: Galleria dell'Accademia.
David stands just under 17 feet tall and weighs more than 12,000 pounds - that's 6 tons! The story of the work we see today is a long and twisting one. The original commission was for a series of large statues for upper niches on the Florence Cathedral (Italy). The statues would have been more than 200 feet above the ground. The original sculptor was Agostino di Duccio. He began work in 1464 (that's half a century before Michelangelo) but left the project after only very basic beginnings.

A decade or so later, the commission was taken up by Antonio Rossellino. He, too, made only beginning marks before abandoning the project.

What was the problem? We know that Rossellino complained about the quality of the marble. The block, quarried in Carrarra, had too many taroli - too many imperfections. The imperfections may have created weaknesses that followed veining, fault lines that could have caused the ruin of the sculpture. Modern scientific studies have confirmed that the marble is of mediocre quality.

So the block was rejected. The barely-begun David lay on his back in the courtyard of the Duomo's workshop. It was exposed to the elements for more than 25 years.

Then, in 1501, a 26-year-old sculptor began work on the project. The quarried block had been lying on its back since the sculptor was only a year old. He was given two years to complete the commission. He finished in 1504.

The finished piece was too heavy (6 tons!) to be put in the originally-intended niche, so it was placed at the entrance of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence. In 1873 was moved indoors to its current site at the Galleria dell'Accademia in Florence. A replica was put at the original site.

If it isn't the most famous sculpture in the world, it certainly makes everyone's Top Ten lists. The stone that the sculptors rejected has become...well, if not the cornerstone, at least a centerpiece in the history of sculpture.

This week on Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page, read between the lines of Psalm 23. Click on this link.

For thoughts on John 10:11-18, click here.

Sunday, January 7, 2018

John 1.43-51: By Any Other Name

The Gospel reading for Epiphany 1B (John 1:43-51) offers us a glimpse of one of the lesser-known disciples: Nathanael. In John's gospel, Jesus is in Galilee and calls Philip, who shares a hometown with Peter and Andrew. Philip then meets up with a friend and tells him about Jesus. Nathanael' s response is one of those sentences that has lived long after he spoke the words. Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Jesus (yes, of Nazareth!) then proceeds to impress Nathanael with his knowledge.

And we never hear from Nathanael again.

Sort of.

Nathanael is named only in John's gospel. He is believed to be the disciple called Bartholomew in the other gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. In the other gospels' lists of disciples, Bartholomew is paired with Philip (who is an actor in Nathanael's call story). It may be that Bartholomew is a "son of" construction (remember Peter is Simon son of [bar] Jonah).

Even as Bartholomew, this disciple doesn't get a lot of camera time. He is included in several lists but we don't hear any further stories about him. The episode of Bartholomew's life that captures the most attention is his death. Tradition tells us he was flayed alive in Armenia. When we see him in art, he is usually holding a flaying knife or even his own skin.

Among the most famous depictions is Michelangelo's Bartholomew in the Sistine Chapel's Last Judgement. The artist has put the knife in the disciple's right hand and his skin in the left hand. As an added twist, the face on the skin is purported to be a self-portrait of the artist.
(Left) Michelangelo. Last Judgement (detail). 1533-1541. Sistine Chapel, Vatican. (Right) Calling of Nathanael. Canterbury Cathedral, Canterbury, England.
Depictions of Nathanael are characterized by a fig tree (though sometimes the figs are at a distance and barely visible) and one, two or three men. Because the action in the passage is conversation, there is not particular action, but it is usually depicted as a sunny day with green leaves on the tree and a blue sky.

We have, then, two stories of the probably same person. One that tells the beginning of the story. The other that focuses on the end of the story. In between there is some unknown, some mystery. Which name, and which story, do you think this disciple would find most meaningful?

This week on Facebook...the last verse of the Gospel reading offers a connection to a story from Hebrew scripture. Click here or on the link below to read more.

For other thoughts on the Epiphany 1B reading, click here.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Luke 4. 21-30: Words of Our Mouths

The lectionary readings for Epiphany explore how the world came to know Jesus: visitors from the East, voices and doves at his baptism, turning water into wine at a wedding, reading and interpreting scripture. These have been the gospel readings for the past weeks. The gospel reading for Epiphany 4C (Luke 4:21-30) continues the reading from 3C (Luke 4:14-21) where Jesus reads from the Isaiah scroll and announces that the scripture has been fulfilled in him. Verse 21 is the bridge verse, and in the 4C reading we see what happens when people do not accept words as God's truth. Jesus is marched out of town in preparation for being killed.

Such a response might not have surprised Jeremiah, whose call is the focus of the Epiphany 4C reading from Hebrew scripture. In this reading Jeremiah is called to deliver the word of God to God's people. God's hand touches Jeremiah's mouth as a sign that God will provide the words Jeremiah is to say.
Marc Chagall. Jeremiah Receiving the Gift of Prophecy (aka Calling of Jeremiah). 1957. Hand-colored etching. Haggerty Museum of Art, Marquette University. http://museum.marquette.edu/eMuseumPlus?service=direct/1/ResultDetailView/result.inline.list.t1.collection_list.$TspTitleLink.link&sp=13&sp=Sartist&sp=SelementList&sp=0&sp=0&sp=999&sp=SdetailView&sp=0&sp=Sdetail&sp=0&sp=T&sp=0&sp=SdetailList&sp=0&sp=F&sp=Scollection&sp=l722
Marc Chagall shows the moment when the words are symbolically transferred from the divine realm 
to the human one, though Chagall has made one significant change. In the print, the hand that comes from heaven to inspire Jeremiah's words belongs to an angel rather than to God as the text says. Perhaps this is Chagall's acknowledgement of the Second Commandment that prohibits images of God. A bright circular disk or shield covers the angel's chest and emits rays, presumably of light. Angel or God, the being in the top half of the page is the focus of Jeremiah's gaze. The background is indistinct, and the angel is barefoot. And even as the angel's right hand touches Jeremiah's mouth, Jeremiah's right hand is over his heart in a gesture of loyalty or allegiance, perhaps.

Centuries earlier, Michelangelo painted Jeremiah in an entirely different pose. The Renaissance Jeremiah appears more aged. No longer the young prophet at the beginning of his career, he sits rather than stands, looks down rather than up, and with his right hand covers his own mouth in a gesture that is not the potential sign of loyalty or allegiance from Chagall's work. 
Michelangelo Buonarotti. Prophet Jeremiah. Fresco. Sistine Chapel, Vatican. 1508-1512.
For the Sistine Chapel, see: http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/CSN/CSN_Volta_SibProf.html
How would you describe the gesture that Michelangelo gave to Jeremiah? Is he simply resting? Is he propping his head with his right hand? Is he despairing? Has he seen too much in his career? Is he trying to block the words God has put in his mouth from being spoken? 

In your own life, are you the young Jeremiah with God providing the words of your mouth? Or does the earlier portrait of the older prophet - who covers his own mouth - ring true to you? 

For additional thoughts on Luke 4:21-30, click here.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

In the Beginning

It's an old art history trivia question that speaks to the gospel reading for Christmas 2C (John 1:1-18). Here's the set up: in Michelangelo's Creation of Adam, we know that God's right hand reaches out to the newly created Adam. (Detail below.) Here's the question: where is God's left hand and arm? Don't look at the full view until you've made a guess.
Michelangelo. Creation of Adam (detail). Sistine Chapel, 1508-1512. Vatican City, Italy. http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/CSN/CSN_Volta_StCentr.html
OK, now look at the bottom of the page for the full view. Was it what you thought? And, actually what is it? Obviously it's God and a number of other figures floating in space on a cloak-like background. God's left arm is around a female figure, and God's left hand is touching an infant. Who are they?

There is no definitive answer, but there are theories. All the theories wind up with the infant as the Christ Child, so it is the identity of the woman that shapes the meaning of the composition. One theory identifies the female figure as Eve, waiting her turn to be created. Eve, whose name means life, will be the mother of all humanity. A second casting of the figures calls the female figure Mary, who will be the literal mother of Jesus. A third option is that the female figure is Wisdom (see Proverbs 8:22ff.). Yet another proposal is that the female figure is the Holy Spirit (ruach, a feminine noun, in the Hebrew). With this interpretation, the figures become the Trinity, all three persons present in the beginning.


Each of the above propositions concludes with the identification of the infant as the Christ Child. The interpretations by turn feature the Christ as the second Adam, the son of God and one person of the Trinity. However it is interpreted, Michelangelo has caused the hand of God to rest eternally on the child. The artist has placed the Word in the beginning, exactly where John's gospel said he was.






On Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page this week...Epiphany! Travel with the magi by clicking here.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

The God Who Met Moses on Nebo

Moses stands on Mount Nebo and sees the land where the people will live. But that's as far as he goes. The reading from Deuteronomy (34:1-12, Proper 25A/Ordinary 30A/Pentecost+20) includes two sentences on the very end of Moses' earthly life. We don't know what Moses thought as he looked out from Pisgah, nor if he had any reply to God's reminder that the promise of land to Abraham's descendants had been fulfilled. We don't know if Moses accepted his end meekly or expectantly or resentfully or gratefully. Artists have told the story in different ways. Alexandre Cabanel's version (below) is one of the more interesting, especially when it comes to the depiction of this God who said to Moses, "You can look, but you don't get to go into the land."

Cabanel, born in Montpellier, France, won the Prix de Rome in 1845. Originally established in 1663, the Prix was awarded to the most outstanding student at the Academie Royaux de Peinture et de Sculpture. The prize was a fully funded period of study (between three and five years) in Rome, at the expense of the French government. Cabanel spent five years in Italy, sending his "Death of Moses" back to France as his dernier envoi - his "final exam project" to show the progress and accomplishments resulting from his time in Italy.
Alexandre Cabanel. The Death of Moses. 1851. Oil on canvas. Dahesh Museum, NY.
http://www.daheshmuseum.org/portfolio/alexandre-cabanelthe-death-of-moses/

In the painting, Moses (with rays of light beaming from his forehead) stretches out his arms as he is ministered to by angels. What is perhaps most interesting, though, is the figure of God, who may look familiar floating in the upper left corner. Living and painting in Italy, Cabanel had easy access to the treasures of Renaissance Italy. In this painting he quotes two of those masterpieces: Michelangelo's Creation of Adam and Raphael's Vision of Ezekiel.

What was it in these two depictions of God that spoke to Cabanel about the God who met Moses on Nebo? While Cabanel may not have consciously asked the question as he composed his painting, there was nevertheless something in these two images that he felt captured the God we see in Deuteronomy 34:1-12.
(Left) Raphael Sanzio. Vision of Ezekiel. 1518. Oil on wood. Palatine Gallery, Pitti Palace, Florence, Italy. 
http://www.polomuseale.firenze.it/en/musei/?m=palatina 
(Right) Michelangelo Buonarotti. The Creation of Adam. 150-1512. Fresco. Sistine Chapel, The Vatican, Italy. 
http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/x-Schede/CSNs/CSNs_V_StCentr_06_big.html

Michelangelo's God is creating. It is not the very beginning of creation, but with human beings God establishes a different relationship than has existed with other creatures. How might that speak to the moment of Moses' death in Deuteronomy and the God we meet there? What is there of creation in this moment?

As did Isaiah's, Ezekiel's call begins with a vision of God seated on a throne. Seeing God, Ezekiel is dead to his former life and on the brink of a new one. What does that have to say at the death of Moses? Might the chronology of the three episodes say something? The death of Moses follows creation but precedes Ezekiel's vision.

Cabanel was no doubt more interested in importing the artistic qualities of Raphael's and Michelangelo's paintings than the theological ones. But his choices can offer questions about the God who created, who led, who called, who ultimately saves...and who met Moses on Nebo.

For thoughts on the reading from Psalm 90 that is part of readings for Proper 25A/Ordinary 30A, click here

Don't forget - Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page provides other art material on each week's lectionary readings. Click on the link at the bottom of the page.  

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Wandering Thoughts on the Face of God

The Exodus text for Proper 24A/Ordinary 29A/Pentecost+19A  (Exodus 33:12-23) is a visually rich text that is hard to capture. There is plenty to be seen in the story. The trick is figuring how to show it well. The artist might choose to show a man (Moses) hiding in a crevice of a rock. Showing a man being hidden by a giant hand seems more B movie than scripture. And the point of God's glory is that no one could see it and live, so trying to depict something of that scope with the limitations of paint or pencil or photography will probably yield results that are...anticlimactic.

Instead of the sweeping epic vista, then, we offer a few thoughts.

Instead of seeing the face (panim..a plural...faces!) of God, which cannot be seen, God tells Moses that he may see God's back after God's glory has passed by Moses (sheltered in the rock and behind God's hand). That is the normal order of things, but it is infrequent that the backside of God is mentioned in scripture or art. The most famous, perhaps, is one of the two images of God painted by Michelangelo on the Sistine Chapel ceiling's panel "The Creation of the Heavenly Bodies".
Michelangelo. Creating the Heavenly Bodies. 1508-1512. Sistine Chapel, Vatican. 
http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/x-Schede/CSNs/CSNs_V_StCentr_08.html

In that panel, God pictured on the right hurls the sun with his right hand and the moon with his left. Then, at the left, a second depiction of God gestures with the right hand to bring forth vegetation on the earth. Unusually, this second depiction on the left, shows not God's face as it is the other times God is painted. Rather here, what we see is God's backside. 

To be sure, Michelangelo's God, painted as Humanism takes Renaissance Italy by storm, has little to none of the glory that we might imagine from the Exodus account. In the Sistine Chapel, God is often seen floating on a cloud with an entourage of beings and a generous length of flowing garment, but this hardly seems to be so awe-full that no one could live who saw it.

Just as "face" is a plural", so, too, the Hebrew word translated "back" in the NRSV (achowr, plural of achoray) is also plural. In Exodus 33:23 tthe KJV translates the word "my back parts", retaining the plural sense. Jerome's Latin Vulgate uses the phrase "posteriora mea". The English form of this word, like its Italian cognate, posteriore, can mean a body part. Perhaps that is how it traveled to Michelangelo and was then put into the fresh plaster of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

There is a place in scripture, associated with Moses and the Exodus, where the face of God is not hidden. In the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24-26, the blessing is offered that the Lord's face will "shine upon you and be gracious to you" and that the Lord's countenance will "give you peace". Note, however, that there is no indication that the people should look at God's face while it is shining upon us or giving us peace.

A rabbi giving this blessing uses a certain gesture to accompany the blessing. Both hands are open, thumbs are touching, with forefingers almost forming a triangle. On each hand, the four fingers are separated into two groups of two fingers. When you see two hands (called Cohanic hands, spellings vary) on a Jewish gravestone you know it is the grave of someone who traces their descent from the priestly (cohen) tribe.
 

For thoughts on the gospel passage for this week (Matthew 22:15-22), click here.