Wednesday, May 29, 2013

The Eye of the Beholder

      It was the fourth century, and a newly ordained priest called John had just begun to offer his first sacrifice of the mass. However, he was so overcome with a feeling of unworthiness that he shed his ecclesiastical robes and fled into the wilderness instead. In the rocky wilderness he embraced the ascetic life, spending much time in prayer and meditations. One day, a princess from a nearby kingdom was whisked to his cave by a magical wind. Fearing that she was an agent of Satan, he refused her entry. Eventually, she was able to satisfactorily convince him that she was not from hell. Despite this, fearing sensual temptation, he drew a line down the middle of the cave and stated that she could remain in the cave on the condition that she stay on the opposite of the line from himself. Apparently the line was not enough to inhibit the most primal urge of humankind, and in one lubricious moment he crossed the line and gave into his passions. They both immediately plunged into contrite repentance. Overcome with grief, the priest, fearing further sin, carried her off and cast her off of a cliff. Again, he realized the error of this action and fled to the pope begging for absolution. When the pope denied it, the priest vowed to crawl on his hands and knees until he could be forgiven. Fifteen years later, a queen had a child. For the christening feast a huntsman went into the forest, happening upon a strange beast, he captured it and brought it back to the queen. Meanwhile, the child was to be baptized. However, the child refused to be baptized and spoke up in an unnatural voice that he would, "only be baptized by John." Just at this moment, the huntsman had brought the strange beast forward to present to the queen. The beast, upon hearing the child speak, slowly looked up. The beast was, of course, John.

     This is one part of one of the many extraordinary legends that surrounds early church father John Chrysostom. However, this little slice of hagiography is extremely unlikely to contain much more than the smallest kernel of truth. Regardless, it became the subject matter for a piece by Italian painter Mattia Preti. This eye-catching oil on canvas piece measures an ample 96" x 75." Painted in 1640, the work shows John Chrysostom on all fours in the foreground. Behind him stands the huntsman, opposite him are the queen holding the child, an unidentified child, and a hunting dog. This chiaroscuro scene is set in front of a classical background, though the characters are all appareled with clothing contemporary to the artist. In the triangular foreground the rich colors of the garments are a stark contrast to the olive colored, emaciated figure of John.



     I recently spent a long time in front of this work, and it spawned many fascinating avenues of thought that I happily traveled down. But the most interesting thing about this painting was the ambivalence that Preti has created regarding John's spiritual status. The temptation that he had given into in the cave was a young woman of royalty, and here in front of him stands a beautiful young queen. In her fashionable and subtly seductive clothing she is the very picture of his original mistake. Between him and the lady, however, is the child. The child is a not so subtle representation of the Christ Child, reaching out his hand in forgiveness. The question that I tried to answer while looking at this work is this: what is John looking at? Is it the child or the queen? After all those years of penitence is he still in the grip of temptation and lust? Or has his contrition become complete? Repentance or relapse?

     Additionally, Preti shows a progression that starts with the hound and goes to the huntsman. The dog represents the carnal primal urges, the child in front of the dog represents a childish curiosity. Two things that caused John to end up in his current position. Both the dog and the child are facing away from the queen and child. The ragged, destitute, and anemic John is the symbol of one who has fallen to lust. Though there may be indecision on his part, he looks up from his depravity to the one who can pardon him. The hopeful future is represented in the dark background by the well-dressed, healthy, huntsman bows his head humbly to the child. The huntsman is a shadow of what John can become if pardoned; however, should John fall to temptation again the chain is ready to pull him into the pit. A story of redemption in one frame. Preti displays in this painting consequences of past mistakes and potential mistakes - but also the possibility of restoration.