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Category: Christian art

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Symbol and subconscious

Leonardo da Vinci painted two Madonnas set in caves. Why?

Madonna of the Rocks, Leonardo da Vinci, c. 1483-86, courtesy of the Louvre.

We moderns are very good at seeing subconscious imagery in everything. In contrast, our ancestors communicated with universally-understood symbols. These represented an idea, a person, or even a relationship. Earlier this week, I came across a quotation from Leonardo da Vinci’snotebook, in which the distinction between symbol and subconscious gets a little fuzzy:

 â€œHaving wandered some distance among gloomy rocks, I came to the mouth of a great cavern, in front of which I stood some time, astonished,” he recalled. “Bending back and forth, I tried to see whether I could discover anything inside, but the darkness within prevented that. Suddenly there arose in me two contrary emotions, fear and desire—fear of the threatening dark cave, desire to see whether there were any marvelous thing within.”
Madonna of the Rocks, c. 1503-06, Leonardo da Vinci, courtesy National Gallery
Leonardo painted two versions of The Madonna of the Rocks, twenty years apart. These are based on a legend of the time. The Holy Family, on the flight to Egypt, encounters a toddler John the Baptist, who then worships (adores) his savior cousin.
Artists before and after Leonardo regularly placed nativities in caves. This made historical sense, as Jesus’ birthplace was assumed to be the grotto under the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. (Natural caves were used as homes and barns in Bible-era Israel.)

Leonardo also painted St. Jerome in a cave, but everyone did that. Jerome translated his Bible into Latin in the cave where Jesus was born.

St Jerome, c. 1480, unfinished, Leonardo da Vinci, courtesy the Vatican
But Leonardo stepped out into new territory when he painted his adoration scene. What did he mean by painting what is essentially an idyll framed by something he found terrifying?
Back to his own narrative. Desire won out over fear, and Leonardo entered the cave. He found a great, fossilized whale. “O mighty and once living instrument of formative nature. Incapable of availing thyself of thy vast strength thou hast to abandon a life of stillness and to obey the law which God and time gave to procreative nature…
“You lashed with swift, branching fins and forked tail, creating in the sea sudden tempests that buffeted and submerged ships. Now destroyed by time thou liest patiently in this confined space with bones stripped and bare; serving as a support and prop for the superimposed mountain.”
Madonna of the Carnation, 1478, Leonardo da Vinci, courtesy Alte Pinakothek. Isn’t this just a more stylized version of the same traps and dark passages as in the cave paintings?
There are those who assume his maudlin meanderings are metaphorical, a sort of picture of what lies before us all. But Leonardo was more an earnest student of nature than a poet, and whale fossils are indeed found in Tuscany. Real or imagined, he read a lot into the experience.
Apocalyptic scenes from da Vinci’s notebooks, c. 1517-18, Royal Collection Trust
Leonardo went on to describe the end of existence as we know it. “The rivers will be deprived of their waters, the earth will no longer put forth her greenery; the fields will no more be decked with waving corn; all the animals, finding no fresh grass for pasture, will die. In this way the fertile and fruitful earth will be forced to end with the element of fire; and then its surface will be left burnt up to cinder and this will be the end of all earthly nature.” He went on to illustrate these dark, apocalyptic scenes.
Biographer Walter Isaacson described these pages as a sort of existential crisis. That’s a very modern mindset. I’d first be inclined to look for religious imagery—leviathan, Jonah and the whale, Resurrection, Revelation. Was he was setting the Adoration of the Christ Child against his own deepest fears, or those of the culture in which he lived?
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Stations of the Cross (5 of 5)

This week I am running a series of Stations of the Cross. They were completed during a deadly year, one in which I was being treated for an advanced cancer. For this reason—and because I was traversing new territory for myself—they’re uneven. But their power comes from the underlying story.
The language is simple, meant to be accessible to a child.
The originals are on display at St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, 2000 Highland Avenue, Rochester NY 14618.

Jesus died.
The sky grew dark. At three o’clock, Jesus cried, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
“He is calling for Elijah,” the people said. Someone got a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and lifted it on a stick for Jesus to drink.
“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit,” cried Jesus, and he died.
At that moment, the sun’s light died, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, and there was an earthquake. When the soldiers felt the earthquake, they were terrified. “This man must have been God’s son,” one said.
People disagree about what Jesus meant when he said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
The crowd did not know what Jesus meant, either. They did not understand he was God’s son, so they thought he was calling for Elijah.
The soldiers recognized the earthquake as a sign of God’s power. But there were other people who still would not see.
Jesus’ side was pierced.
The crowd did not want the bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath. They asked Pilate to break the legs of the three men so they would die faster. Since Jesus was already dead, the soldiers did not break his legs. One soldier took his spear and pierced Jesus’ side.
After Jesus died, he stopped talking, but he was not quiet. The things that happened to him were signs.
The blood that came from his side was the blood of the new covenant. The water was the water of baptism. “On that day a fountain shall be opened to cleanse them from sin and impurity,” said Zechariah.
Jesus was taken down from the cross.
Joseph of Arimathea was a secret disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked him for Jesus’ body.
Joseph took Jesus’ body from the cross and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth. A man named Nicodemus helped Joseph.
The people who had come to watch returned to their homes, making a big show of their grieving. But the people who loved Jesus stood at a distance and waited.
Joseph was a member of the council. He was a rich but good man. Nicodemus was a religious leader. Both were secret followers of Jesus.
When they asked for Jesus’ body, their secret was known. They risked losing their power and money—even their lives.
Joseph and Nicodemus could not help Jesus without showing their faith to the world. Sometimes we are afraid of what other people think of our religion. But we cannot serve God if we keep our faith hidden.
Jesus was laid in the tomb.
Joseph and Nicodemus laid the body in Joseph’s own new tomb. They rolled a large rock over the opening. They had to work very quickly because the Sabbath was starting.
Mary Magdalene and Jesus’ mother Mary kept watch nearby.
The next day, the priests and Pharisees went to the tomb and sealed the stone shut. “Otherwise his disciples may steal the body and say ‘He has been raised from the dead,” they told Pilate.
On that Saturday, did Caiaphas, the council, and the people believe they had finally silenced Jesus? 

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in 2015 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.
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Stations of the Cross (4 of 5)

This week I am running a series of Stations of the Cross. They were completed during a deadly year, one in which I was being treated for an advanced cancer. For this reason—and because I was traversing new territory for myself—they’re uneven. But their power comes from the underlying story.

The language is simple, meant to be accessible to a child.
The originals are on display at St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, 2000 Highland Avenue, Rochester NY 14618.
Jesus was nailed to the cross.

When they came to Golgotha, the soldiers offered Jesus wine mixed with myrrh. He would not drink it.
They crucified him between two criminals.
Pilate put a sign on Jesus’ cross that said “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”.
Jesus said, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.”
The wine with myrrh would have made death less painful and scary. But it also would have made Jesus confused. Jesus did not drink it.
Golgotha must have been a scary place that day. Perhaps the two criminals screamed in pain. Jesus’ friends and followers wept. The crowd shouted and laughed.
All around him, people lost control. But Jesus kept a clear head. The crowd was lost in their feelings. Jesus was not. Jesus forgave his enemies. He showed us that forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling.
The soldiers divided Jesus’ garments.
The soldiers took Jesus’ clothes and divided them among themselves. Jesus’ tunic was woven in one piece. They said, “We won’t tear it. We will gamble to see who will get it.”
For the soldiers, this was just another workday. If we could ask them what they were thinking, they might say, “I’m doing what I’m told,” or, “I need this job.”
There will always be people who take advantage of weak or defenseless people. Sometimes we do it ourselves. But Jesus told us, “Whenever you refused to help these least important ones, you refused to help me.”
Jesus spoke from the cross.
A crowd of people stood watching. Many shouted at Jesus, saying “Save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!”
One of the criminals who was dying with Jesus said, “If you are the Messiah, save yourself and us!”
The other criminal said, “We are getting what we deserve, but Jesus has done nothing wrong.” Then he said to Jesus, “Remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”
“Today you will be with me in Paradise,” Jesus told him.
The crowd thought that if Jesus were the Son of God, he would take care of himself first. But he put himself last, not first.
In the world, we are called powerful when we can get other people to do things for us. In God’s kingdom, we are powerful when we are like Jesus—using our gifts for others.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in 2015 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.
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Stations of the Cross (3 of 5)

This week I am running a series of Stations of the Cross. They were completed during a deadly year, one in which I was being treated for an advanced cancer. For this reason—and because I was traversing new territory for myself—they’re uneven. But their power comes from the underlying story.
The language is simple, meant to be accessible to a child.
The originals are on display at St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, 2000 Highland Avenue, Rochester NY 14618.

Jesus took up his cross.
The place where prisoners were crucified was called Golgotha, or the Place of the Skull. It was outside the city. Jesus picked up his cross to carry it to Golgotha himself.
Jesus did not pick up his cross and carry it for us because we are lovable. He did it to lift the weight of our sins from us and put it on his own shoulders.
It’s one thing to love someone who is good. It’s another thing to love someone who is bad. There are some very unlovable people in this world. Can you pray for them? Be their friend? Forgive them? Love them?
Simon of Cyrene was forced to carry Jesus’ cross.
As the soldiers left the palace with Jesus they saw a man named Simon. The soldiers forced Simon to carry the cross for Jesus.
Sometimes God whispers and sometimes God demands. We believe we choose to serve Jesus. But Simon was forced to serve Jesus. When Simon picked up Jesus’ cross, his life was changed forever.
A person from Cyrene is from North Africa. The Bible does not tell us what color Simon was. If color doesn’t matter to God, how much should it matter to us?
Jesus spoke to the women following him.
A crowd gathered. They followed Jesus and Simon as they left the city. Some were Jesus’ enemies. Others cried for him. Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.”
There is a story that a woman named Veronica reached out to Jesus and wiped his face with a cool cloth; later that cloth developed a picture of Christ.
It wasn’t the cloth but Veronica herself who was a picture of Christ. She reached out to another person who needed help. Can others see Jesus reflected in us?
Probably the women who wept for him along the road did reach out and offer him water, encouragement, and love. Even in his suffering, though, Jesus understood that they were the ones in need.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in 2015 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.
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Stations of the Cross (2 of 5)

This week I am running a series of Stations of the Cross. They were completed during a deadly year, one in which I was being treated for an advanced cancer. For this reason—and because I was traversing new territory for myself—they’re uneven. But their power comes from the underlying story.
The language is simple, meant to be accessible to a child.
The originals are on display at St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, 2000 Highland Avenue, Rochester NY 14618.

Jesus was beaten.

“This man is innocent,” said Pilate. “He has done nothing to deserve death. I will have him beaten and released.” Pilate had his soldiers whip Jesus.

Pilate went out from his palace. “You have a custom of having a prisoner released for Passover. Should it be Jesus or Barrabas?” The crowd chose Barrabas.
“Then what should I do with Jesus?” he asked them.
“Crucify him!” they answered. 
Pilate hoped that by beating Jesus, he could satisfy the crowd and save Jesus from dying. It didn’t work. It was the first of many sufferings Jesus bore that day.
We all suffer—some of us as children, some as adults. Sadly, some suffer their whole lives. 
Sometimes we can see when people suffer. Other times, it is hidden.
When we reach out to those who suffer, we reach out to Jesus himself.
Jesus was mocked.
The soldiers dressed Jesus in a crown of thorns and a purple robe. They hit him on the face, saying “Hail, King of the Jews!”
Pilate did not want to kill Jesus. “Why won’t you answer me so I can let you go?” he asked Jesus. 
“Don’t you realize I have the power to have you killed?”
“You have no power except that which comes from God,” Jesus answered.
What could Jesus have said that would have changed the mind of the crowd? Their hearts were set against the truth.
There are times when what we do is far more important than what we say. We don’t just spread the good news by talking about Jesus. We also spread it by doing good things in Jesus’ name.
Jesus was condemned.
Pilate led Jesus outside to the judge’s bench. He said to the council, “Here is your King!”
“Crucify him!” they answered.
“Shall I crucify your king?” he asked.
“We have no king but the emperor,” said the priests.
So Pilate handed Jesus over to be crucified.
Pilate was a smart man. He did not want to kill Jesus. He could have saved Jesus. But he did not stand up to the crowd when he knew they were wrong.
It is easy to do the right thing when people around you agree with you. It is hard when other people think you are wrong. Most of us worry about what our friends think. But public opinion will never tell you if something is right or wrong.
Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in 2015 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.

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The Christian artist

Dead Wood, 48X36, oil on linen, 2014 by Carol L. Douglas
Tomorrow is the Schoenhals Symposium gallery talk by Dr. James Romaine at Roberts Wesleyan’s Davison Gallery. Luvon Sheppard and I both have work hanging in Objects of Grace at the gallery. We have been asked to say a few words at the end of Dr. Romaine’s talk.
How do you compress what it means to be a Christian artist into a few words, especially when you’re a Christian artist who’s been recently shut down for obscenity?

The role of the artist is much like that of prophet or priest: we are here to tell the truth. Sometimes that takes the form of a beautiful landscape and sometimes that takes the form of pointing out injustice.
He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8)
It is very easy to show and sell art that sexualizes women. After all, just last week Kim Kardashian filmed a naked trailer for her reality show. But use nakedness to talk about injustice and you make people very uncomfortable. And yet misogyny is one of the great besetting sins and something we should speak out against.

The Beggar, 36X48, oil on linen, 2014 by Carol L. Douglas
There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)
The talk and reception are from noon to one PM. If you’re around, I hope you’ll join us.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in 2015 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here.
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Objects of Grace

The Heavens Declare, 48X36, oil on linen, 2014
This month I have three pieces in Objects of Grace at Roberts Wesleyan’s Davison Gallery. This show was designed to accompany the school’s Schoenhals Symposium, which this year features art historian and writer Dr. James Romaine.
Dr. Romaine is a New York-based art historian. He is the president and co-founder of the Association of Scholars of Christianity in the History of Art and Associate Professor of Art at Nyack College.
Beauty Instead of Ashes, 48X36, oil on linen, 2014
Three Dimensions of Christian Creativity is scheduled for Thursday, March 19 at 4 PM at the Smith Science Center Auditorium. Romaine will discuss The Art of Tim Rollins + K.O.S. on Friday, March 20 at 4 PM in the same venue, and will lead a discussion at the Davison Gallery on Friday, March 20, from noon to one.
That’s where I come in. Included in the exhibit are four artists (Sandra Bowden, Makoto Fujimura, Edward Knippers, and Joel Shessley) featured in Dr. Romaine’s book, Objects of Grace: Conversations on Creativity and Faith. Also in the exhibit are three “significant local artists treating Christian themes, Scot Bennett, Carol Douglas and Luvon Sheppard,” and pieces from Robert Wesleyan’s permanent collection.
The Harvest is Plenty, 48X36, oil on linen, 2014
I have long been a fan of Luvon Sheppard’s work. His watercolors of Rochester capture the pulse of the city perfectly, with a high degree of technical excellence. He’s a man of faith, but he doesn’t beat the viewer over the head with it. It’s a great honor to be showing with him.
Interested in attending Dr. Romaine’s talks? The Symposium brochure is available here.


Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park in 2015 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops! Download a brochure here. 
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Why I paint

Love and Deceit, Zhostovo papier-mache tole tray painted by Sergei Fillipov
Fine art is what you have left when you’ve removed all practical application from an art form. The quality of the work has nothing to do with it. Thus an exquisitely painted tole tray like the above is considered a fine craft item, whereas a mediocre landscape is a fine art item.
I can inhabit the practical sphere, but I tend to focus on the intangible. That is why I’m a fine artist. I’m a painter because that’s the talent God has given me.
Several of my friends sent me this piece on why Christians should create.
The Servant, by Carol L. Douglas. Not all nudes are meant to be provocative, of course.
There are, believe it or not, many Christians who are opposed to Christian art. I’ve heard it all, and at times their criticism has stopped me from working: nudes are bad (obscene). Representations of God are bad (graven images). Painting is a waste of time. You could be doing more important work. (By this last they mean, of course, fine crafts.)
In many ways, fine artists are more like preachers than they are like craftspeople. They structure their life and work around an internal reality that is invisible to outsiders. Nobody asks preachers why they spend time describing the Kingdom of God through words, but a lot of people question why artists think they should do it through images.
Storm clouds, by Carol L. Douglas. Landscape not only celebrates creation, it can be a profound metaphor for our spiritual life.
The bottom line is that this is the talent God has given me. Painting and teaching painting (and, yes, writing about painting) are almost the only things I do well.
Martin Luther said, “Love God and do as you please.” When he told me that, Rev. John Nicholson added that Colossians 3:23 says: “whatsoever ye do, work heartily, as unto the Lord, and not unto men.”
To me, that’s pretty much the last word on the subject.


Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!
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More on that Christian art thing

Knight, Death and the Devil, woodcut, by Albrecht DĂźrer, 1513
Part of the heated discussion that ensued after my post Friday about the so-called problem of Christian music expressed a general irritation with performers who identify themselves as Christian artists. We’re all aware of the capacity of modern artists to drape themselves over the cross for marketing purposes. However, there has always been a distinction between artists who work in religious themes because that is their marketplace, and those who are genuinely faith-driven.
Albrecht DĂźrer achieved extraordinary success very quickly. He produced a variety of works including many of a secular nature, and actively sought and exploited the patronage of Maximillian I. None of that indicates a profoundly religious man.
However, DĂźrer left a large body of writing that indicates that at some time he had a true religious conversion. He became an early and enthusiastic follower of Martin Luther.  His new Protestant sympathies can be felt in his later work, a transition pushed along by the death of his patron in 1519.
In 1524, Dürer wrote that “because of our Christian faith we have to stand in scorn and danger, for we are reviled and called heretics.” And in expressing thanks for the gift of one of Luther’s books, he wrote, “I pray Your Honor to convey my humble gratitude to His Electoral grace, and beg him humbly that he will protect the praiseworthy Dr. Martin Luther for the sake of Christian truth. It matters more than all the riches and power of this world, for with time everything passes away; only the truth is eternal.”
Circle of the Lustful: Francesca da Rimini (‘The Whirlwind of Lovers’) 1826-7, from William Blake’s illustrations of Dante’s Divine Comedy.
William Blake is another artist whose copious writings make his religious fervor easy to document. However, understanding them is another matter entirely. (I confess I take him in small doses.) His illustrations for Dante’s Divine Comedy include extensive margin notes in which he argues with Dante’s theology.
Blake was literally a visionary: he saw visions from childhood on. He was a believer, but he hated the church. His contemporaries thought him quite mad. But his poem “And did those feet in ancient time” comes down to us as the great patriotic hymn Jerusalem, set by Sir Hubert Parry in 1916.
I kind of like his assessment of the character of Jesus:

If he had been Antichrist Creeping Jesus,
He’d have done anything to please us:
Gone sneaking into Synagogues
And not us’d the Elders & Priests like Dogs,
But humble as a Lamb or Ass,
Obey’d himself to Caiaphas.
God wants not Man to Humble himself.

Conversion on the Way to Damascus by Michelangelo Merisi Caravaggio, 1601
Compare these two painters to Michelangelo Merisi Caravaggio, another brilliant painter of religious scenes. His patrons were Cardinal Francesco del Monte and Cardinal Girolamo Mattei, and his subject matter was overwhelmingly religious, but Caravaggio could by no stretch of the imagination be described as a “Christian artist.” A brawler with an extensive police record, he managed to nick a rival in the groin with his sword, severing an artery and killing the poor man. This led to Caravaggio’s exile and ultimately to his death.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!