Melted Wings' Wax

- James Tissot

I recently rediscovered an artist I appreciate when I was looking through art relating to Exodus. Going through works dedicated to Moses, I found one of my favorite paintings by a French painter named James Tissot.

This painting is notably one of his less emotion-filled works, and that is exactly why I enjoy it as much as I do. In this painting, Moses and Aaron can be seen calling upon God for help against the Egyptians. Moses and Aaron are turned away from the viewer, and the city and pyramids take up most of the painting. This makes the emphasis not on the moment, but on the scenes which will occur afterward. I think it's a very dramatic way to display a larger-than-life occurrence. You can imagine the locusts, in the black gloom, preparing to take up everything in sight.

Exodus 10: 13 - 15
So Moses raised his staff over Egypt, and the Lord caused an east wind to blow over the land all that day and through the night. When morning arrived, the east wind had brought the locusts. And the locusts swarmed over the whole land of Egypt, settling in dense swarms from one end of the country to the other. It was the worst locust plague in Egyptian history, and there has never been another one like it. For the locusts covered the whole country and darkened the land. They devoured every plant in the fields and all the fruit on the trees that had survived the hailstorm. Not a single leaf was left on the trees and plants throughout the land of Egypt.

*EDIT* - I made a typo :( I was waiting for class to start while typing it. Cut me some slack :P

A change of pace once again.

Link to Burial - Archangel

I've previously covered music insofar as speaking about Sufjan Stevens in relation to Abraham. However, I've never really had a song that didn't directly relate to a piece of art. Today I found myself listening to a song by the dubstep artist Burial, and found myself deeply affected by one of his songs. The song in question, Archangel, is more about what ISN'T there as opposed to what is. The duration of the song is carried by a persistent voice, one which sounds androgynous yet human. The pitch constantly changes throughout each word, leaving the voice with no identity, only it's pleas. The only instrumentation is the hollow and echoed strings accompanied by a drum beat which seems less than solid, working overtime yet still falling short. This minimal and sad arrangement seems to focus on the void inside of the music as opposed to the music itself. The composition is empty. The haunting voice calls out - devoid of personality but rich with emotion.

"Loving you, could it be alone? Could it be alone? Could it be alone?"

"Kissing you, tell me how can you, tell me I belong, tell me I belong."

This, to me, seems to be humanity itself, not one single effort or man, calling out for something bigger. Calling out for something greater. The world is so void of the love we are searching for, and we are so desperately seeking that feeling of belonging, and that sense of love.

Can this be us singing out the praises which we do not understand, and expressing the love which we can't comprehend? Could this be the voice of our inner selves calling out for that which we seek?

- Gustave Doré

Exodus 32 - Jacob Wrestles with God
24 This left Jacob all alone in the camp, and a man came and wrestled with him until the dawn began to break. 25 When the man saw that he would not win the match, he touched Jacob’s hip and wrenched it out of its socket. 26 Then the man said, “Let me go, for the dawn is breaking!”
But Jacob said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
27 “What is your name?” the man asked.
He replied, “Jacob.”
28 “Your name will no longer be Jacob,” the man told him. “From now on you will be called Israel, because you have fought with God and with men and have won.”
29 “Please tell me your name,” Jacob said.
“Why do you want to know my name?” the man replied. Then he blessed Jacob there.
30 Jacob named the place Peniel (which means “face of God”), for he said, “I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been spared.” 31 The sun was rising as Jacob left Peniel, and he was limping because of the injury to his hip. 32 (Even today the people of Israel don’t eat the tendon near the hip socket because of what happened that night when the man strained the tendon of Jacob’s hip.)

I wanted to post this story and painting because I just got finished reading it on my bible plan. I very much enjoy this story, and have found it even more interested after listening to a message concerning it at my mom's. I'm not a HUGE fan of Doré, but I've always been rather interested in this painting in particular. Doré is a lesser known but critically acclaimed artist, this work being done in 1855. The angel is typical, what you would expect of many late Christian pieces, but Jacob is the part of this painting which I really love. Although his face is shadowed and blocked from view, there is a certain intensity there that I find admirable. His arms bulge as he fights against this angel, fighting for the blessing of god.

This piece unfortunately suffers from the serenity that most artists found necessary in their paintings. The fight seems unrealistic to me because the angel seems so very docile. However, this doesn't take away from Jacob and the emotion which is writhing inside of him. It is almost as if all of humanity is inside of him, fighting against this spiritual force which is so alien and glorious. He does not truly fight against it, but instead, fights to become a bigger part of it.

Certainly, he walks away bruised and battered, but better for the experience.

It's rather easy to get art in the spirit of Christmas, so I decided to show one of my favorite and obscure nativity scenes.


- El Greco

This painting, made in the early 1600's, is the work of El Greco, a nickname which easily translates into "The Greek." A Spanish Renaissance painte, El Greco's works are incredibly distinct due to the way he makes all of his figures elongated and stretched, often to represent intensity in emotion. This painting, The Adoration of the Shepherds, was one of his last paintings, and one of my favorites. The scene depicts the shepherds coming to look upon the newly born child. Unlike many paintings which show this moment as sacred, hushed, and static, El Greco's version is extremely dynamic and energetic. The child Christ is radiating with a white light which fills the whole canvas. One of the men seems taken aback by the power of the moment and baby, pulling back from the frame. The other shepherds look less effected, but still quite moved. There seems to be some sort of dance going on, some sort of worship which is brought upon by this great moment. All of the characters seem full of wonder and joy, looking at the infant emitting a miraculous light. In fact, angels take up the top half of the picture, also in celebration and adoration.

Imagine the power that these moments must have had. We easily put them into plays and nativity scenes, but the miracle was something which was truly unforgettable. To be there would have been one of the greatest honors and ecstatic moments of all time.

It's been awhile. School has been killer.

Anyways, onwards and upwards -

Following in the trend of posting western art pieces, I figured I would start it back off with a bang - Leonardo Da Vinci.

I think i'll make a few Da Vinci posts, as I haven't covered him yet, though he may be the most important artist yet. Instead of going with The Last Supper (which I'll discuss later) I decided to show one of his lesser known works, his rendition of St. John the Baptist.



Now, a lot of the detail has been lost in this painting, as well as many others by Leonardo. The artists constant experimentation with different mixtures of paint and material certainly didn't do art historians any favors. However, the basic premise and structure of the painting is still easily seen. This is Da Vinci's version of St. John the Baptist, and it is very different than the John my mind holds. However, there is a very good reason for this.

St. John is shown with long and curly hair, smiling a very familiar smile (any takers on where else that facial expression can be seen in Leonardo's work?) John tenderly holds a thin cross while pointing upwards toward heaven, wearing pelts. Now, the pelts and the staff may have been added by a later painter, but that is another issue. In my opinion, the only thing which matches up to John in my mind is the pelts. I've always imagined John to be a bigger, rough man, with rather worn looks, gaunt from living in the desert and eating locusts. The John here is ideal. Angelic. That is exactly the point. This John seems to be an "angel in the flesh," a being so good that he is worthy of the Renaissance angel design. This seems to be Leonardo's idea, anyway. The physical features of John aren't intended to be his real looks, but a reference to what was inside of his gruff exterior, the loving and Godly man who devoted his life to God. His gesture is also important, pointing to the only thing that truly matters - the heavens.

~ Bernini

The David most people know is the sculpture created by Michelangelo. I know, I know, totally iconic and great and cool.

. . .

However, I figured I'd focus on a different aspect of David created by a fantastic artist named Bernini. This rendition is different than Michelangelo's in quite a few ways. The most important is that, while Michelangelo's classic is peaceful and contemplative, Bernini's piece is right in the middle of the moment of battle against Goliath. I love sculptures which bring you into the moment and are three-dimensional. This certainly does a great job. From the front, it looks like you're in the middle of the battle with Goliath right behind you.

Pretty cool!

- Bellini

This picture, titled Saint Francis of Assisi in Ecstasy, portrays . . . something which I know most of the population would be less than ecstatic about. Saint Francis is displayed here in the pinnacle moment receiving the stigmata. I believe this rendition is, although probably not accurate (the landscape is rather picture-perfect and isolated) a great take on how we should behave towards God. The act of stigmata, which is receiving the wounds of Christ on the cross, would be an incredibly painful thing to endure, just as it was for Jesus himself. But Saint Francis looks rather overjoyed, indeed, ecstatic, because of his complete and total love for God and the things of him.

"While you are proclaiming peace with your lips, be careful to have it even more fully in your heart." - Saint Francis