Saturday, April 21, 2018
The very first Episcopal church I ever attended was Saint Mary's in Kansas City MO on Easter Sunday, 1980. It remains among the most beautiful Episcopal churches I've ever prayed in; a wooden vaulted ceiling, splendid brick arcades, a wrought iron rood screen, and a Tiffany altar. It was definitely the church of the local Establishment at one time. Now it is marooned among parking lots and freeway interchanges next to downtown.
When I visited there on Easter, I was hooked. I loved the liturgy and music. For the first time in my life, I heard a sermon that spoke to me as an adult and not as a child. After a few more visits, and some visits to some other congregations, I decided that this was the break I was looking for with the bland suburban Protestantism in a fundamentalist evangelical culture that I grew up in. I was a secular agnostic at the time, and I so wanted a religious life again, and a specifically Christian religious life. But, just about everything I grew up with was too anodyne or repulsive to consider returning to. Rome and its authoritarian hierarchy wasn't an option either. I wanted to keep my own mind and conscience, to remain myself doubts and all, and remain free. Having grown up in a culture where hellfire is a constant terror, I became convinced that salvation must be something more than simply being spared an eternal torture chamber. Nor did I believe that a truly loving God would create such a place, though hateful mortals just might. God was not a monster or an extortionist. God is Love in every sense of that word.
I've been going to Episcopal churches now for 38 years, and I am so very grateful for this non-confessional church that makes no claim beyond what's proclaimed in the Gospel and the Nicene Creed. I remember hearing Neil Alexander (long before he became a bishop) describe the Episcopal Church as a place where a motley group of pilgrims ended up and found each other on the way to the Celestial City. We make no claims to have The One True Answer. We don't own any copyright on the Gospel or the Truth. We are pilgrims on the way, deeply flawed human beings, sinners like everyone else, trying to live out the Gospel as best we understand it individually and collectively. Our mission is not to be the exclusive club of the Saved set over and against the Not-Saved, but to be Tikkun to use a Hebrew word, healing. The Cross is not judgment, but the healing and reconciling medicine for a torn and bloodied world. The Gospel is not another calamity piled onto the backs of suffering humankind, but Good News -- liberation, freedom, compassion, God with us always.
Posted by Counterlight at Saturday, April 21, 2018
Monday, April 16, 2018
Filled to the brim with Prosperity Gospel and white nationalism, it looks like white evangelicals want to trade away the Christian faith altogether for the sake of being white. Instead of some Jew telling them that they are part of one human family, that they should love their neighbors as themselves, now they want to be told that the world is divided between “winners” and “losers,” and that God predestined them to win. White evangelicals want to hear that as white people they are set apart, that indeed they are the only people who really matter. Their messiah is a winner, a successful rich white American; not some Palestinian Jew executed for blasphemy and sedition. They believe that a white American man like themselves sits at the right hand of God. He will judge the (inferior) nations of the world at the coming Apocalypse, so their oracles tell them. White evangelicals believe themselves to be the betrayed and persecuted masters of the earth, chosen by God to rule over all the lesser mortals given into their tutelage.
Against this backdrop, I appreciate more and more the Nicene Creed. Saying it every Sunday becomes ever more meaningful; a human God in solidarity with us, all of us, a single human family. Not bad work for a 4th century crowd of quarrelsome clerics and officious government bureaucrats.
Icon of the Nicene Creed
I should point out that I am a very agnostic believer. I think most of the narratives in the Bible are folk tales. I don't think anything in the Christian faith is provable or demonstrable, nor do I think that proof matters. However, I can say this creed every Sunday without crossing any fingers.
Posted by Counterlight at Monday, April 16, 2018
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Michael with Bonkers and Willy in 2013
I will return to New York to teach in August.
Uncle Michael yesterday with his nephew Cole Brock who will turn 2 on June 1st in McGolrick Park in Brooklyn near our home.
Michael and the cats arrived safely in Bluffton last night.
Posted by Counterlight at Sunday, April 15, 2018
Friday, April 13, 2018
Willy and Bonks in the sunlight in our Brooklyn apartment about 4 years ago.
On Sunday, they will be leaving with Michael as he starts a new job in Bluffton, South Carolina just across the channel from Hilton Head. I will be joining them in the first week of June, and then returning to New York in the middle of August to teach the Fall Semester back at Bronx Community College.
I am not looking forward to this temporary separation. I haven't lived alone in many years.
If Michael's new job in Bluffton turns out to be a big success (which it probably will be), then I will be spending part of my time there and part of the time back in New York teaching until I retire.
Last summer, we joined the ranks of property owners when we bought a nice condo in Bluffton that's about 10 minutes from the beach at Hilton Head, and about a half hour away from Savannah. The new condo is over twice as large as our Brooklyn apartment and with all new appliances.
Here are a few pictures of it that I took last Thanksgiving. Since then, the carpet was replaced with a new hardwood floor, and there's a little more furniture. But, it still looks a little bare. It's a second floor condo with its own staircase to the ground floor, and a small balcony from the living room. There are two bedrooms with walk-in closets, and two baths. After more than 2 decades of depending on laundries in New York, we finally have our own washer/dryer. I will be using my bedroom as a studio. It's actually a little bigger than the studio space I occupy now.
We are very lucky to have this condo. If we had waited even another week, we would have been priced out of the market. It looks like this is where I will be spending my summers (thank God for central AC!).
Our dreams of owning property either in New York or the San Francisco Bay Area ran into the hard wall of the high cost/ low wage economy. And even then, we are lucky to get this. Michael has an old friend who lives in Bluffton who persuaded him to buy property there. It turns out that the area is full of transplants from New York with the same idea we had. There's no way we could afford to buy anything within a 300 mile radius of the city these days.
I think this will be the nicest place that I've lived in since I left home in 1977. I look forward to spending my summer there and working on my art in a studio I don't have to walk 3 miles to get to.
I will be traveling back and forth between Bluffton and New York until I retire.
It's going to be hard.
A picture I took in Savannah last Thanksgiving. Spanish moss everywhere.
Michael with Yours Truly on the beach at Hilton Head.
Posted by Counterlight at Friday, April 13, 2018
Thursday, April 12, 2018
Franz Von Lenbach, Otto Von Bismarck
As Paul Ryan announced this week his coming retirement from Congress, I remember the creator of the modern welfare state, Otto Von Bismarck. The Iron Chancellor was not really interested in improving the lives of the poor and working class so much as he was in preserving the Prussian monarchy and forging a German empire. He decided to look after the welfare of the general population in order to head off the growing power of the German labor movement. "When the cottage is unhappy, the palace is in peril," said Disraeli. Bismarck thought it necessary to keep all the German cottages well if not quite happy in order to keep the Kaiser in the Stadtschloss.
It was only later after World War II that the welfare state became an article of faith with left and center-left parties in Europe. After the War, the nation states of Western Europe created welfare states to end the economic insecurity that drove the rise of totalitarian movements. Those movements that started the War came out of the misery and desperation created by boom and bust cycles of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. And now over 75 years later, Europe still enjoys the longest peace it has ever known. Its populations enjoy mass prosperity for the first time ever.
American Social Darwinists like Ryan consider welfare states to be moral failures, encouraging dependency and sapping people of their initiative. But when compared to the USA, the results of 75 years of the European welfare state speak for themselves. The German economy is the most powerful in Europe, and one of the most powerful in the world; and that was achieved with universal healthcare coverage, housing subsidies, and free public education from pre-K to post-doc. Populations in Germany, the Low Countries, France, Scandinavia, and elsewhere are healthier and better educated than their American counterparts. All of these countries have paid family leave time with free or affordable pregnancy and early child care, along with very good free public education all the way to graduate school. In contrast, one in every five children in the USA is born into poverty. Life expectancy is shortening here. The USA has the highest infant mortality rate in the Developed World and also the highest maternal death rate. The quality of your education in this country depends on the zip code you live in; everything from the best in the world to practice for jail. In the USA, wealthy communities spend lavishly on the education of their own children, while those who live in poor communities with no real tax base make do with constant cutbacks in education spending; 4 day school weeks, out of date and ragged textbooks, crumbling school buildings, and unqualified teachers presiding over classes of 35 students or more. While the Dutch are closing prisons in their country, the USA still has the highest prison population in the world. While right wing social Darwinists dismiss France's generous healthcare system, ours is the most expensive in the world for the least results.
So many people in the Developed World enjoy liberal democracy that tries to provide work and a decent life for all citizens. The USA by contrast, is a plutocratic oligarchy with democratic pretensions that divides its people into "winners" and "losers;" that keeps people divided against themselves so that they don't notice those who really exploit them. The Land of the Free treats most of its citizens as a vast pool of cheap labor to be pacified with vague promises of scraps from the tables of their Betters ("trickle down").
What kind of a country do you want to live in? One that punishes you and your children for not being billionaires, that treats you like just so much expendable cheap labor and a tenant in your own country? Or one that treats you like the sovereign citizen that you are with rights, dignity, and a legitimate claim upon your country and its fortunes?
I know my Social Security account and future Medicare coverage are more secure with Paul Ryan gone from politics, even if only temporarily. As far as I'm concerned, he can spend the rest of his days marking his place in his copy of Atlas Shrugged with his rosary.
Margaret Bourke-White, Flood Victims Lined Up for Relief Supplies, Louisville, KY, 1937
Posted by Counterlight at Thursday, April 12, 2018
Friday, March 30, 2018
Philippe de Champaigne, Crucifixion, 17th century
The Crucifixion is a central image of the Christian religion; so central that we assume that it goes back to the beginnings, that it was always there. In fact, the Crucifixion as we've always known it -- as we see it in Phillipe de Champaigne's magnificent painting from the 17th century above -- appears surprisingly late in history, and almost not at all in early Christian art for many centuries.
The reason why the Crucifixion is so scarce in early Christian art is because it was shameful; a punishment meted out to common criminals, runaway slaves, and rebels. Roman citizens convicted of capital crimes were spared the agony and shame of crucifixion. They were beheaded, a comparatively merciful and dignified death. The crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth was a fairly routine execution by Roman standards, one more of many such executions throughout the empire every year. Crucifixion first appeared in ancient Persia and became a common form of execution in Rome. The condemned were nailed to a cross, or a post, or a tree, or sometimes to a wall, and left to die of shock and exposure; an ordeal that could last for days (thus Pontius Pilate's surprise to learn that Jesus was already dead before the day was through according to Mark's Gospel). Jesus was not the only famous person to die by crucifixion. It is possible that Spartacus, the leader of the great slave rebellion died by crucifixion. Crosses bearing condemned rebel slaves lined the Appian Way for many miles. Spartacus, unlike Jesus, was never betrayed and his body never identified. After the Jewish Rebellion of 70 CE, the hills around Jerusalem were forested with the crosses of executed rebels.
Crucifixion was a scandal.
The earliest surviving image of a crucifixion is not a work of art, but a work of vandalism; a crude school boy scrawl found on a piece of marble on the Palatine hill in Rome in 1857.
It came from the ruins of a boarding school for imperial pages founded by the Emperor Caligula. It could date anywhere from the first to third centuries. It says in crude misspelled Greek, "Alexamenos worships his god." It shows the unfortunate Alexamenos on the left before a crucified figure seen from the back with a donkey's head. It's certainly possible that Alexamenos was a Christian, but I wonder how likely that would have been in a very exclusive school for boys from very wealthy and noble Roman families within sight of the Imperial Palace. I think it just as likely that Alexamenos was the butt of cruel jokes that have always been part of boarding school life. This scrawl indicates something of the shame associated with crucifixion. Alexamenos prays to something so low a shameful as a crucified man with the head of a donkey.
The earliest surviving image of he Crucifixion of Christ dates from around 420 (a very late date, about 200 years after the first appearance of Christian art in the catacombs of Rome). It appears on a pair of wooden doors in the church of Santa Sabina in Rome, probably made on the orders of Pope Celestine I. Carved panels showing scenes from the Old and New Testaments decorate the doors. As is typical of early Western Christian art, the subject of these doors is Salvation History. The earliest surviving Crucifixion in art appears way up in the top left corner of the doors. The arrangement of the panels on the door has been altered many times, but it is unlikely that this small panel was ever very prominent.
And here is the very bowdlerized Crucifixion from the Santa Sabina doors. Early Christian art, even from the catacombs in the beginning, was very triumphalist. The earliest Christian art was about victory; of life over death, of good over evil, of Christ over the world. It was mostly about the Second Coming instead of the First Coming of Christ. Crucifixion and its shame and agony did not fit. Thus we see three men naked except for loincloths -- Christ between the thieves -- standing in front of a city wall instead of hanging from crosses.
Another very early surviving Crucifixion, almost contemporary with the Santa Sabina doors is this ivory plaque in the British Museum that once formed part of a small casket. It shows a very inexpressive Christ standing on a cross with we presume Mary and John, and someone on the right who appears to be mocking Him. The figure of hanged Judas on the left with his discarded moneybag appears much more dramatic. I wonder sometimes if the inexpressiveness of Christ here might be evidence of the lingering discomfort among a lot of ancients over the idea of a human God. Gods were not supposed to suffer or die.
An illustration from the Rabula Gospel book from about 586 shows the Crucifixion at the top and the events of Easter down below with the women at the empty tomb and the risen Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene. The Syrian artist who made this shows a much more violent Crucifixion than we've seen before with people appearing to attack a helpless Christ on the cross while soldiers sit on the ground and gamble for his clothes. Even so, His suffering is considered unseemly. A royal purple robe conceals His suffering body.
The crucifixion remained rare in early Christian art, but the Cross began to appear regularly and prominently after the 5th century. A cruel instrument of death originally made out of wooden poles or even just tree branches becomes a radiant celestial vision on the ceiling of the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia in Ravenna. This cross may only refer tangentially to the Crucifixion. What it really refers to may well be the Emperor Constantine's vision on the night before the Battle of the Milvian Bridge of a magnificent cross in the heavens with the words "By this sign you will conquer." The Cross becomes an emblem of victory and conquest written in the stars.
Among the most splendid of surviving celestial crosses appears in the apse of Sant' Apollinare in Classe just outside Ravenna. A jeweled golden cross appears in a blue nimbus full of stars.
This 8th century gilded bronze plaque, possibly from a Gospel book cover, came from near Athlone in Ireland. It's a Crucifixion that may be very loosely based on a panel painting brought from Rome. While possibly based on a Roman prototype, it is definitely an Irish interpretation of a Christian subject. Christ appears as a huge impassive figure on the Cross magnificently arrayed in spiral and interlace patterned robes like an ancient Irish chieftain. Two figures below appear to torment him while winged figures we assume to be angels fly above. The ancient Irish like many northern European peoples may have conceived of Christ as a great warrior chief, an epic hero, leading his loyal soldiers to battle with Satan and his legions. The Crucifixion for them may have been a kind of heroic battlefield self-sacrifice, or a feint to lure the devil into a trap.
The magnificent Muiredach High Cross from the 9th century stands in the remains of the Monasterboice monastery in County Louth, Ireland.
It shows on one side a larger and more splendid version of the Athlone Crucifixion surrounded by pre-Christian spirals and interlaces that were believed to have magical powers. The Christian cross itself stands surrounded by a pre-Christian Irish sun circle. The pain and torment of the Crucifixion becomes subsumed in an even more ancient power and glory with magical powers.
On the other side of Muiredach Cross appears the Last Judgement; among the earliest pairings of the Crucifixion with the Final Reckoning, but certainly not the last.
By the 10th century, Christianity starts to appear in fits and starts in the Viking lands. The Jelling Rune Stone was put up by King Harald Bluetooth of Denmark as a memorial to his parents and to his conversion to Christianity. The Crucified Christ appears embedded in a seething mass of serpentine interlace pattern.
Also in the 10th century, before King Harald Bluetooth erected the Jelling Rune Stone, the first Crucifixions in the form that we would recognize are made in Germany. The familiar image of the Crucifixion -- a cross with a suffering figure of a dying Christ hanging from it -- appears suddenly and fully formed in the German Rhineland in the 10th century. The earliest surviving example predates the Jelling Rune Stone and was commissioned by Archbishop Gero of Cologne. It still stands in the cathedral.
Only the corpus of the Gero Cross survives. The present cross and setting are all recent. It is a startling apparition in the wake of all the celestial crosses, bowdlerized Crucifixions, and warrior chieftains of earlier versions. Christ visibly and unmistakably suffers. The body hangs and sags. The head bows under the weight of pain and suffering. All the earlier cautions and scandal that originally surrounded this central event of the Christian legend suddenly and inexplicably (to me anyway) vanish.
This new suffering crucifix spreads rapidly across northern Europe. Here is a splendid page from the 10th century Ramsey Psalter from early medieval Britain.
This new emotional appeal of shared suffering quickly supplants or merges with the older celestial cross of Constantine's vision.
Cross of Lothair, front
This cross was possibly made for the Emperor Otto III around the year 1000, and was a processional cross used in the coronation ceremonies of Holy Roman emperors. The jeweled front of the cross with an ancient cameo of the Roman Emperor Augustus in the center faced the emperor during the ceremony. It is the jeweled cross that appears in so much early Christian and Byzantine art, the glorified celestial cross of Constantine's vision.
Cross of Lothar, reverse
The back of of the Lothair Cross is a flat piece of gold that faced the bishops during the coronation ceremony. Engraved on the back is a very beautiful and moving variation on the suffering Christ on the Cross first seen in the Gero Crucifix a century earlier. For the first time, the whole Trinity appears in a Crucifixion. The hand of God the Father reaches down with a wreath of victory. Inside the wreath is the dove of the Holy Spirit. Coiled around the base of the cross is the serpent of Satan, the tempter of Adam and Eve in the story of the Fall in Genesis.
From the Daphni monastery, 12th century
Mosaic from Hosios Loukas monastery, 12th century
The Crucifixion rarely plays a central role in Byzantine art that it does for Western Christian art. Byzantine art with its very specific formulas and gold backgrounds is always about an eternal present tense. These are not scenes from a historical past, but always from a spiritual present viewed through the window of an icon or a mosaic. The powers of Heaven show these for the instruction and salvation of mortals. The Crucifixion plays only one part in the vast eternal Divine Liturgy in the realms of Heaven. The center of that eternal Liturgy is always Christ Pantocrator, Christ the ruler of All Things reigning from His celestial throne.
Icon from Novgorod, Russia, ca. 1360
San Damiano Cross, 12th century
The Tuscan painted cross is Byzantine form adapted to the needs of Western Latin Christianity with its emphasis on Salvation History. We think of these as Byzantine, but they are not. They are very specifically Western. Painted crosses hung over altars or stood on rood screens to explain the Mass to congregants in the church. Their image is narrative as much as it is liturgical. There is not that same theology of icons as glimpses into the realm of Heaven behind Byzantine imagery. The painted cross preaches and teaches in the tradition of Western narrative religious imagery.
Above is the famous Cross of San Damiano that supposedly spoke to Saint Francis of Assisi commanding him to restore the ruined church in which it originally hung.
Italo-Byzantine painted cross from Pisa, 12th century
Both of these painted crosses from Pisa above and below show the Christus Triumphans and the Christus Patiens surrounded with narrative imagery of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ.
Italo Byzantine painted cross from Pisa, 13th century
Painted cross attributed to Cimabue, 13th century, Arezzo
Time has not been kind to the works of Cenni di Pepi, better known by his unflattering nickname Cimabue which means "Ox Head." The textbooks on Italian Renaissance art, taking their cue from Vasari and his Lives of the Artists, begin with Cimabue. In fact, Cimabue's art is not a beginning, but an end, a splendid sunset of the long Italo-Byzantine tradition just before its end. Cimabue was among the great conservatives of art, breathing a whole new life into traditional formats.
Cimabue, painted cross from Santa Croce, Florence, 13th century; former state before 1966
Perhaps the greatest of all the painted crosses of Tuscany is Cimabue's now ruined cross that once stood on the rood screen of the great Franciscan church of Santa Croce in Florence. Cimabue reduces the painted cross down to its most basic parts; the body of Christ hanging on the Cross between his Mother and the Beloved Disciple. Against the hard geometry of the Cross, Christ's body sags in a magnificent S curve from the head to the feet. It is a moving image of spiritualized suffering. The abstracted forms in no way detract from our emotional participation in this image. At the same time, the formalization universalizes this one moment of intense pain, raising it up out of the particular to make it stand for all suffering.
Cimbue, painted cross in Santa Croce in its current state.
Cimabue, fresco in the Upper Church, San Francesco, Assisi, 13th century
This is the ruin of a once famous and influential fresco painting by Cimabue in the Upper Church of San Francesco in Assisi. The artist painted this fresco using what were originally very bright colors that proved to be chemically volatile over time. The once brilliant whites of the highlights all blackened while the once deep shadows faded into a pale ocher creating an effect like a photo negative.
Indeed to get some dim sense of what this painting might have looked like, some books publish it in photo negative. This is the sad ruin of a once magnificent painting. A giant figure of Christ dies majestically on the Cross in contrast with the crowd of small figures of those who mourn and those who mock His dying. That enormous figure of the dying God fills the top half of the picture surrounded by grieving angels. Cimabue turns a routine execution in ancient Rome into a cosmic tragedy.
This painting was once very famous and influential. We can see its echoes throughout Italian art for generations.
We can see the influence of Cimabue's great painting on the Crucifixion on the back of Duccio's great Maesta altarpiece for the Cathedral of Siena. The composition is very similar, but Duccio's emphasis is less on cosmic tragedy and more on human suffering; by the dying Christ along with the two thieves, and the grieving mourners on the left.
Giotto, painted cross in Santa Maria Novella, Florence
Giotto, painted cross from Santa Maria Novella, Florence, 14th century
Instead of a magnificent hieroglyph of divine suffering, Giotto returns to the spirit of the Gero Cross in Cologne from 4 centuries earlier. Giotto's painted cross pays homage to Cimabue's great cross while departing from the Italo-Byzantine tradition that shaped it. The body sags with almost palpable weight from the hard geometry of the Cross. Suffering writes itself on this body with prominent ribs and abdomen protruding with collapsed organs. Giotto seeks to move us emotionally by appealing to our experience of the world.
Giotto, painted cross from the Tempio Malatesta in Rimini, 14th century
Pietro Lorenzetti, fresco in the Lower Church, San Francesco, Assisi
Altichiero, fresco in the Santo, Padua
This wooden Crucifixion by Donatello has jointed shoulders so the figure can be taken down from the Cross and symbolically laid to rest during Good Friday liturgy.
A late work by Donatello that personalizes the sense of cosmic tragedy pioneered by Cimabue.
Antonello da Messina
The Limbourg Brothers
Jan Van Eyck and assistants
A detail from the Crucifixion panel in Jan Van Eyck's diptych showing both a strikingly suffering Christ on the Cross against a superb landscape background that shows a river valley, a distant range of snow-capped mountains, all kinds of clouds, and a daytime moon.
The mourning women from the Crucifixion wing of Jan Van Eyck's diptych.
Details from the Last Judgment wing of Jan Van Eyck's Diptych.
Rogier Vand Der Weyden
The rigidly fixed body of Christ nailed upon the cross in Rogier Van Der Weyden's work contrasts with the windblown loin cloth. Those waving bits of cloth only emphasize the rigid torment and pain of Christ nailed onto the Cross. That's certainly true in the Viennese triptych above, and even more so in the striking and austere large diptych in Philadelphia below.
Rogier Van Der Weyden
Rogier Van Der Weyden would influence artists all over Europe, even in Italy. His conception of the Crucifixion as the body of Christ rigid in torment with that rigor heightened by a windblown loincloth had a big influence on sculptors in northern Europe. Among the best variations on Rogier's idea is in the church of Sankt Sebaldus in Nuremberg by Veit Stoss.
Pestkreuz in Cologne, 14th century
"... they pierce my hands and feet; I can count all my bones"
The Pestkreuz was an extreme emotional manifestation of suffering and torment.
Mathias Grünewald, Isenheim Altar
The Pestkreuz inspired probably the most violent and lurid depiction of the Crucifixion ever by the great and mysterious painter Mathias Grünewald. He painted it not for a church, but for the altar of a hospital ward that treated plague victims and those suffering from ergotism, now a rare disease, but once common in a region of Europe where rye bread was a staple, and bread made with rye contaminated with a toxic fungus made ergotism widespread.
I wrote a whole post on the Isenheim Altarpiece that you can read here.
Albrecht Dürer, woodcut from The Small Passion
Albrecht Dürer, from the Engraved Passion
Peter Paul Rubens
Peter Paul Rubens
Peter Paul Rubens
Santo from New Mexico, 18th century
Retablo in the Chimayo Sanctuary, New Mexico
Molleno, Christ of Esquipulas in the Chimayo Sanctuary, New Mexico, before 1855
Pierre Paul Prud'hon
William Blake, 'Albion Adoring Christ', end piece to Jerusalem
Caspar David Friedrich
Henry Ossawa Tanner
Chinese Christian painting, 20th century
Henri Matisse, Stations of the Cross from the Chapel of the Holy Rosary, Vence, France
Barnett Newman, Stations of the Cross in the National Gallery of Art, Washington DC.
Barnett Newman, Third Station of the Cross, 1960
An African Crucifixion from the Anglican Cathedral of the Holy Nativity,
Pietermaritzburg, South Africa
Murals in the Episcopal Cathedral of the Holy Trinity, Port Au Prince, Haiti
Edwina Sandys, Christa in the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, New York.
Erik Ravelo, The Untouchables
Posted by Counterlight at Friday, March 30, 2018