VERY STONES CRYING OUT



G.K. Chesterton in Orthodoxy:

Greek heroes do not grin: but gargoyles do - because they are Christian. And when a Christian is pleased, he is (in the most exact sense) frightfully pleased; his pleasure is frightful. Christ prophesied the whole of Gothic architecture in that hour when nervous and respectable people (such people as now object to barrel organs) objected to the shouting of the gutter-snipes of Jerusalem. He said, If these were silent, the very stones would cry out. Under the impulse of His spirit arose like a clamorous chorus the facades of the mediaeval cathedrals, thronged with shouting faces and open mouths. The prophecy has fulfilled itself: the very stones cry out.

The photographs are of gargoyles on the Cathedral at Ely.

OUR LADY of BLACHERNAE



Icon of Our Lady of Blachernae, made from martyrs' paste - a mixture of beeswax and the ashes of Christian martyrs of the 6th century.

CANNABIS and a MOTH



In the borders of a page from the early 16th century Hours of Anne of Brittany, illustrated by Jean Bourdichon.

TESTERIAN CATECHISM



World Digital Library:

This early-16th century manuscript, known as a Testerian catechism, is one of the more notable documents in the archives of the Center for the Study of the History of Mexico. In the early period of the Spanish conquest of Mexico, before religious instructors had learned the languages of the indigenous peoples, they used pictorial stories describing basic teachings to spread the Christian Gospel. These catechisms were called Testerians, after Father Jacobo de Testera, a Franciscan priest who pioneered this method of teaching.

BISHOP-FISH and MERMONK



Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas:Edward Payson Evans:

Not only the outlying and unexplored regions of the earth, but the sea also was prolific of wonders, the most remarkable of which was the so called bishop-fish (Episcopus marinus) or sea-bishop (Meerbischof), a specimen of which is said to have been caught in the Baltic in 1433. It had a mitre on its head, a crosier in its hand, and wore a dalmatica. The king of Poland wished to confine it in a tower, but it stubbornly resisted this attempt on its freedom, and by mute gestures entreated its fellow-prelates, the bishops of the realm, to whom it showed special reverence, to let it return to its native element. This request was finally granted, and, in token of joy and gratitude, it made the sign of the cross, and gave the episcopal benediction with its fin, as it disappeared under the waves. Engravings of this marine marvel were published in Gessner’s Fischbuch in 1575, in Schott’s Physica Curiosa, and in other works of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In 1531, according to Dutch chroniclers, another bishop-fish was taken in the German Ocean, and sent to the king of Poland, but it obstinately refused to eat anything, and died on the third day of its captivity. Gessner describes also the merman (Homus marinus) and the mermonk (Monachus marinus), said to have been taken in the Baltic, the British Channel, in the Red Sea, and on the coast of Dalmatia.

[Animal Symbolism in Ecclesiastical Architecture by Edward Payson Evans. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1896]

WHALLEY VESTMENTS at TOWNELEY HALL





More information about these vestments here and here.

OVIDE MORALISE

Emile Mâle:

In the mind of the thirteenth century a curious idea grew up. The literature of the ancient world began to seem to the scholar as in some sort a dim revelation, in which as through a veil the Christian faith from time to time was seen. The Metamorphoses of Ovid in particular, were interpreted by the symbolic method applied to the Bible, and in them the same teaching was discovered. The view so constantly put forward, that classical mythology was merely a corrupt form of biblical tradition, was scarcely that held by the scholars of the thirteenth century. In their eyes the heathen fables were of the nature of a special revelation made by God to the Gentiles, in which, as in the Old Testament, was outlined the story of the Fall and the Redemption. Among the myriad forms in Ovid's crowded tapestry Christian eyes discerned the figures of Christ and the Virgin, which as he threw his shuttle the poet had unwittingly woven in.

Nothing of the kind is more curious than a manuscript of the Metamorphoses in the Bibliotheque de l'Arsenal. Among miniatures illustrating the stories of Medea, Æsculapius or Achilles, one unexpectedly finds pictures of the Crucifixion, the Annunciation, or the Descent into Limbo, and the rhymed commentary which accompanies each story from Ovid explains and justifies the presence of the Christian subject. We learn, for example, that Æsculapius, who suffered death because he had raised the dead, is a type of Christ, and that Jupiter, changed into a bull and carrying Europa on his back, also typifies Christ, the sacrificial ox who bore the burden of the sin of the world. Theseus who forsook Ariadne for Phaedra prefigures the choice which Christ made between the Church and the Synagogue. Thetis who gave her son Achilles arms with which to triumph over Hector, is no other than the Virgin Mary who gave a body to the Son of God, or as the theologians have it, gave Him the humanity with which He must be clothed in order to conquer the enemy.

These examples will give some idea of works of this nature, in which the whole of mythology becomes prophetic and, so to say, sibylline.

[Religious Art in France of the 13th Century by Emile Mâle, translated by Dora Nussey. Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1958]

On RELICS


Reliquary of the Holy Tear at Vendôme, since destroyed

Emile Mâle:

A really fine study of relics would be one of the most curious chapters of mediaeval history, and one which the historian of civilisation and the historian of art would find equally instructive. The subject demands more learning and greater insight into the past than can be found in Collin de Plancy's Dictionnaire des Reliques, a dull pamphlet written by a belated disciple of Voltaire who had neither the mind nor the style of his master. To study the Middle Age in order to mock at it instead of trying to enter into its spirit, is the folly of a past age...

It should be realised that the relics which excited the passionate devotion of so many generations form a serious subject of study. The announcement of the jubilee at Aix-la-Chapelle, with the assurance of at least a distant sight of the holy cloth which had covered the Saviour on the Cross, drew some forty thousand pilgrims from all parts of Europe. Relics possessed a supernatural virtue. Wherever the arm of an apostle or the blood of a martyr was known to be, there grew up some village or rich abbey. The girdle of St. Foy created Conques, in the mountains of Aveyron. The presence of a holy body at the altar determined the shape of the church which contained it, and obliged the architect to find new forms, to enlarge the choir and the transepts. The most ingenious creations of mediaeval goldsmiths were due to the necessity of enshrining some sacred bone in crystal or in gold. Around these frail reliquaries gathered a whole world of hopes and longings, and they appeal to us to-day as do all things on which men's thoughts have lingered.

The historian of art has no right to scorn the relics. It should be remembered that the Sainte-Chapelle, the most perfect of thirteenth-century buildings, was a shrine destined to enclose the crown of thorns. And the most beautiful mystic dream of the Middle Ages, the sangrail itself, what is it but a reliquary?

Calvin dissipated all this poetry in a breath. With his reasoning and his rude vigour he demonstrated to the poor world that God is everywhere, and that it is not necessary to make long journeys and like pagans to adore doubtful relics. Pray, he says in his Traite des reliques, has not the world gone mad to travel five or six score miles at great cost and pains to see a flag (the holy shroud at Cadouin) about which one can have no assurance, but rather be constrained to doubt?. Nothing finds mercy at the hands of this terrible iconoclast; none of those memories which should be dealt with tenderly, neither the water-pot of the marriage at Cana which was shown at Angers, nor the tear shed by Christ for Lazarus which was enshrined at Vendôme, nor the pictures which had been painted by angels, for one knows that it is not the metier of angels to be painters.

The world emerged from the age of poetry. The enthusiasm of the Crusaders who went to defend an empty tomb, and brought back a little holy earth as the greatest of treasures, henceforth appeared as inexplicable folly. As a matter of fact, said Calvin, they consumed their bodies and their goods, and a large part of their countries' substance, in order to bring back a pile of foolish little things with which they had been gammoned, believing them to be the most precious jewels in the world.

Such was, in fact, the feeling of the Crusaders who in the thirteenth century sent a host of relics to the churches of Champagne, the Île de France and Picardy, from Constantinople. These matchless treasures, which were enclosed in precious wallets, had a certain influence upon art.

[Religious Art in France of the 13th Century by Emile Mâle, translated by Dora Nussey. Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1958]

RUSHTON TRIANGULAR LODGE









The Heritage Trail:

An extraordinary piece of symbolic architecture sits along a lonely country lane, about a mile from the village of Rushton. From a cursory glance at this small but ostentatious building, it bears all the hallmarks of being nothing more than a folly. Upon a closer inspection of both its structure and its history, however, a deeper explanation for the existence of this building gradually reveals itself.

The Rushton estate was the principal seat of the Tresham family from 1437, and a large, country manor house was built in the late 15th century. With a staunchly Catholic background, Sir Thomas Tresham experienced a difficult and troubled life during the last two decades of the 1500s, and was imprisoned for much of the time because governments of the day felt threatened by his religious persuasion. It was during his prolonged captivity that Sir Thomas formulated the idea of making a covert declaration of his faith, having already smothered his cell walls with symbolic letters, dates, numbers and other religious scribbles.

It was not uncommon for the Elizabethans and Jacobeans to incorporate messages within their elaborate buildings, but to emblazon a house with so many clear references to the Trinity was an outrageous notion. Nonetheless, on his release in 1593, Tresham began designing the triangular lodge, as something of a shrine dedicated to his long suffering. The result was this small, colourful house adorned with dates, emblems, biblical passages, shields and skilfully carved gargoyles. Constructed on the basis of an equilateral triangle, the symbolism is apparent throughout the entire building, and all features relate back to the Holy Trinity and the Mass. On the three walls, there are three windows on each of the three floors, three roof gables, and even a triangular chimney adorned with Tresham trefoils.

Inside the house is remarkably plain, providing compact and simple accommodation for a gamekeeper or someone of similar status. The building is often referred to in the Rushton estate documents as The Warryners Lodge. Not a lavish palace, an impressive stately home, or a romantic country manor house, just a bizarre little dwelling created by the imaginative, perhaps slightly eccentric, mind of a devout Catholic man. Even if the religious connotations seem a bit heavy going and difficult to interpret, the fascination of identifying some of the emblems, and trying to understand how Thomas Tresham's mind worked, invites a compelling investigation of the lodge.

ILLUSTRATION REPORT ~ SEPTEMBER 2009

Recently completed works:

The three small drawings that I completed this past month - a bookplate, a coat of arms and a drawing of Isaiah - are not shown, as they are intended as either gifts or Christmas cards, and I do not wish to spoil any surprises.

The largest work that I completed in August is a drawing of St. Columba (Columkille) of Iona, commissioned by a Canadian priest. It is the largest (8.5"x11") drawing in full color that I have made in several years, and the first drawn with colored inks and gouaches rather than colored pencils.





















My patron requested that the drawing be in the mediaeval Irish style, so I used a decorative vocabulary taken from the great Celtic illuminated manuscripts - especially the Lindisfarne Gospels, the Book of Kells and the Book of Durrow - with intricate knotwork, fantastic animals twisted and tied back upon themselves and distinctive geometric patterns.

St. Columba is pictured as an abbot, and holds the Cathach of St. Columba, an illuminated psalter attributed to the saint's own hand.

At the bottom of the drawing are depicted three events from his life, as retold by Adamnan of Iona:

How an aquatic monster was driven off by virtue of the blessed man's prayer

On another occasion also, when the blessed man was living for some days in the province of the Picts, he was obliged to cross the river Ness; and when he reached the bank of the river, he saw some of the inhabitants burying an unfortunate man, who, according to the account of those who were burying him, was a short time before seized, as he was swimming, and bitten most severely by a monster that lived in the water; his wretched body was, though too late, taken out with a hook, by those who came to his assistance in a boat. The blessed man, on hearing this, was so far from being dismayed, that he directed one of his companions to swim over and row across the coble that was moored at the farther bank. And Lugne Mocumin hearing the command of the excellent man, obeyed without the least delay, taking off all his clothes, except his tunic, and leaping into the water. But the monster, which, so far from being satiated, was only roused for more prey, was lying at the bottom of the stream, and when it felt the water disturbed above by the man swimming, suddenly rushed out, and, giving an awful roar, darted after him, with its mouth wide open, as the man swam in the middle of the stream. Then the blessed man observing this, raised his holy hand, while all the rest, brethren as well as strangers, were stupefied with terror, and, invoking the name of God, formed the saving sign of the cross in the air, and commanded the ferocious monster, saying, Thou shalt go no further, nor touch the man; go back with all speed. Then at the voice of the saint, the monster was terrified, and fled more quickly than if it had been pulled back with ropes, though it had just got so near to Lugne, as he swam, that there was not more than the length of a spear-staff between the man and the beast. Then the brethren seeing that the monster had gone back, and that their comrade Lugne returned to them in the boat safe and sound, were struck with admiration, and gave glory to God in the blessed man. And even the barbarous heathens, who were present, were forced by the greatness of this miracle, which they themselves had seen, to magnify the God of the Christians.

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How a wild boar was destroyed through his prayers

On one occasion when the blessed man was staying some days in the Isle of Sky, he left the brethren and went alone a little farther than usual to pray; and having entered a dense forest he met a huge wild boar that happened to be pursued by hounds. As soon as the saint saw him at some distance, he stood looking intently at him. Then raising his holy hand and invoking the name of God in fervent prayer, he said to it, Thou shalt proceed no further in this direction: perish in the spot which thou hast now reached. At the sound of these words of the saint in the woods, the terrible brute was not only unable to proceed farther, but by the efficacy of his word immediately fell dead before his face.

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Concerning a vessel which a sorcerer named Silnan had filled with milk taken from a bull

The following is told as having occurred in the house of a rich peasant named Foirtgirn, who lived in Mount Cainle. When the saint was staying there, he decided justly a dispute between two rustics, whose coming to him he knew beforehand: and one of them, who was a sorcerer, took milk, by his diabolical art, at the command of the saint, from a bull that was near. This the saint directed to be done, not to confirm these sorceries - God forbid! but to put an end to them in the presence of all the people. The blessed man, therefore, demanded that the vessel, full, as it seemed to be, of this milk, should be immediately given to him; and he blessed it with this sentence, saying: Now it shall in this way be proved that this is not true milk, as it is supposed to be, but blood, which is coloured by the artifice of demons to impose on men. This was no sooner said than the milky colour gave place to the true natural colour of blood. The bull also, which in the space of one hour wasted and pined away with a hideous leanness, and was all but dead, was sprinkled with water that had been blessed by the saint, and recovered with astonishing rapidity.

Interview at the Catholic Illustrators's Guild:

John Herreid, one of the founders of the Catholic Illustrators's Guild, interviewed me for the guild's web log Small Pax. The interview can be read here.

Prints available for sale:

Museum-quality giclee prints of this Crucifixion drawing, which I consider my finest work to date, are still available. A detailed explanation of its symbolism can be read here. They are printed on heavy rag paper cut to fit a 9" x 12" frame, signed and numbered (1-100). The cost per print is $120, plus $15 for shipping*.



I have also had giclee prints made of this drawing of the Tree of Life and Death, based on an illumination in a 15th century Missal owned by Archbishop Bernhard von Rohr of Salzburg. The text is from a Marian sequence by Adam of St. Victor. They are printed on heavy rag paper cut to fit an 8" x 10" frame, signed and numbered (1-50). The cost per print is $96, plus $12 for shipping*.



Last year, I drew this bookplate of St. Nicholas for an international bookplate competition (It was selected as an official entry, but did not win). I had nine giclee prints made on the same heavy rag paper. These are signed and numbered, and cost $20 each (+$2 shipping*).

       

I had three of my designs for universal bookplates (i.e. bookplates with a blank space in which anyone's name can be written) printed. The first has a picture of olives; the second teems with biological and microbiological shapes; the third is a maze (with one and only one correct path from start to finish). These are exceptional quality digital prints on white acid-free paper, 3" x 4". A package of 60 bookplates (all of one design, or any combination of the three) costs $30 (+$2 shipping*).

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*Packing, postage and insurance costs are for customers in the United States. International customers will be charged more for postage, depending on the destination.

Please visit my main web page to see more of my artwork and e-mail me if you are interested in buying or commissioning anything.