Showing posts with label fine art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fine art. Show all posts

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Ten Paintings for any Catholic Household (and 5 Runners-Up)

Wondering what to get for your domestic church? Here are ten picks based on what families need most in our culture.

Runners-up:
  • Vermeer: Woman with a Water Jug OR Milkmaid
    Here's the young ladies' equivalent of the astronomer and the geographer. Vermeer's work with light and transparency, combined with his equally beautiful depiction of women of different personalities and realistic weights (i.e. body mass indices) can be helpful to young girls.

  • Brueghel: Numbering at Bethlehem
    Another visually interesting scene also remarkable for a different style from the others; it's half Where's Waldo and half religious art--another perfect choice for your family room, especially at Christmas.

  • Wright of Derby: Milton's Comus
    A more muted set of colors and a more mythical theme makes this one set apart and useful in an older child's room or a guestroom.

  • El Greco: The Adoration of the Name of Jesus
    Couldn't not have an El Greco: the challenge he poses to prissy Romanticism fanatics is important in teaching members of a family that what they like isn't all that's good. Regardless of whether you choose El Greco or Picasso to make this point, it's a good one to make.

  • Zurbaran: Still Life with Lemons, Oranges, and a Rose
    Chosen for its subtle ability to represent Mary in a still life (teaching the power of art as it does so).

Friday, November 2, 2012

New Look because I'm Feverishly Procrastinating

I am desperately avoiding the impending doom of studying for my comprehensive Respiratory Block Exam. I have a take-home quiz to complete, plenty of First Aid practice questions to go through, and HOURS of lecture to review but I am choosing instead to twiddle the knobs on Blogger's template editor.

I like the new background image of vigil lamps hanging in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Old Jerusalem, taken by Guillaume Paumier. I found it while searching for the below image (a painting entitled The Vigil by John Pettie, better resolution here) which I love because it reminds me of Crusades and St. Joan of Arc and Adoration and surrender.

Look at the knight's expression, and how formally he holds and presents his sword! It's clear to me that he is vowing allegiance, or perhaps even exclusive love, to his Lord. And look how the artist hints at the monstrance, yet piously declines to depict the Host. Perhaps Pettie prefers to depict the majesty of the Eucharist by the grave, yet loving expression in the eyes of the knight...after all, this is often the way we experience the majesty of God: through the devotion and virtue of others.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Caravaggio: the Calling of St. Matthew

The Calling of St. Matthew (alternatively, The Vocation of St. Matthew) examples Caravaggio's signature chiaroscuro and naturalism. Its technical perfection is matched by its theological excellence, because it has much to say about vocations.

First, look at the principle figures in the scene: Christ, St. Matthew, and St. Peter (recognizable in front of Christ by his traditional gold outer garment over a blue-green inner garment).

Christ reaches toward St. Matthew, selecting him. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, his head forward on his body. This illustrates His eager desire (Luke 22:15) to have each of us belong to Him, which desire is the source of every vocation.

His hand is almost precisely copied from Michelangelo's famous Creation of Adam. Christ's hand is pointing in the same direction as the hand of Michelangelo's God the Father. However, Caravaggio does not copy God the Father's energetic fingers; instead, he traces Adam's limp hand. In these details, Caravaggio represents our Lord as divine and descending to men from Heaven; at the same time, he includes Christ's full humanity--he took on all the (unfallen) weakness of His creatures.


It would be remiss to comment on a Caravaggio without speaking about light. The light (illuminating the figures and a little less than half of the wall) is not coming from the window. Rather, it is coming from behind Christ. It reminds me of our recent Mass readings...
The words that I speak to you I do not speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me is doing his works. (Jn 14:10)
Finally, notice St. Peter, who might initially seem awkwardly placed. Isn't he blocking Christ? On the contrary, he is placed to represent an often-overlooked aspect of each vocation. The vocation of every Catholic is approved by the Church: for example, consecrated men and women make their vows or receive consecration with the approval of their ordinary; in another example, the vows exchanged by a married couple are dignified in the Sacrament of Matrimony. In The Calling of St. Matthew St. Peter stands as Christ's vicar, not blocking or replacing Him, but making Christ's desires known as he imitates Christ's gesture.