To Blog - from a Snowbird point of view, complete with reasons for Not blogging lately

               I know that if you are visiting Rejoiceicons today, you expect I will continue with a discussion about my current icon project, or something I have learned about icons through recent research.  You can see it’s been a while since I last wrote.  I recently read of a noted author who confessed to being very bad about keeping up with his blog, and I certainly understand and agree.  So much of life seems to get in the way, although I can hardly say I am attempting the Great American Novel as this fellow is. 

               But bear with me.

               I have just recently completed the southern trek to my Florida winter home, from New York State.  I was at a local Florida mall today and discovered a display of bonsai plants, which interest me as well as several of my children – the ones who inherited their father’s green thumb.  To let the seller know the level of my commitment to bonsai, I told him I was a snowbird to which he replied, “I won’t hold that against you”.  In retrospect I just realized that this was a pretty snotty thing to say to a lady of my age and dignity.  Among other things, I must be losing my speed on the uptake. 

               But snowbirding, as with age, is not for the sissies among us.  I told an Indian friend that it was a schizophrenic existence and she was immediately shocked that I would admit to the disease, but it is so.  Arrival at one place or the other after 6 months in “the other” means the beginning of a mental re-training period.  Where do I keep the cereal?  What happened to that blue casserole dish?  Why did I bring white slacks south – that’s bringing coals to New Castle.  And at church, wait a minute, I’ll remember that tone if you hum a bar or two.  Shucks, did I forget the rent check for Florida?

               Even before the trek and the retraining comes the thinking and then the packing.  The thinking begins soon after I arrive in one place or the other, when I start a list that is headed “things NOT to bring back!” and the list gets longer and longer.  And something is always forgotten.  As the months go by (we’re talking north or south), all the things I’ve put off and need to take care of, become condensed into a month, then a week, then--- on another “to do” list. 

               The night before The Big Trek South, daughter Mary comes to the rescue and restores sanity and calm.  This has been happening for 8 winters now, and when Carlo approached the Problem the first year, Mary timorously offered her opinion, and for the rest of his life (sadly only a few years) Mary was The Packer.  Sort of Pack Rat becomes Packer.  That girl can squeeze stuff in places a bat couldn’t fit into!

               Oh but the real fun is The Day We Leave – in either direction.  Easily accessible behind the driver’s seat is a special pink plastic bag containing rubber gloves, disinfectant spray, a wet cloth, paper towels – and cat food.  The last thing the night before, we have covered the interior of the car with a 9 x 12 sheet of el cheapo plastic. The only thing exposed is The Litter Box.  In the morning, The Cat is deposited in the back seat next to it and begins to yowl.  We wave good-bye and take off in whichever direction the calendar tells us. 

               The Cat is called Gatsby and for all of his 11 years he has lived by a Rule of 5.  In 5 miles or 5 minutes (his choice) he empties every orifice of his body.  Having everything at the ready, I (because the “we” suddenly isn’t interested) use the contents of the pink bag to eradicate all evidence of the Rule of 5.  In about 30 minutes, The Cat is a contented as the proverbial cow.  We stay overnight at a motel and he guards the car from inside.  Next morning is as if he has never heard of the Rule and we continue peacefully to our destination, with Gatsby curled around the gear shift of the car.   

               I won’t go into the inevitable unpacking and reorientation that occurs after the arrival Here or There, but please forgive and understand the delay since my last blog and I really, really hope to improve.  That’s what something is supposed to do with age, right – improve?

               I promise that my next blog will be completely serious…

Icon of the Protection of the Mother of God

                                                     The Protection of the Mother of God

                The Carpatho-Russian church dedicated to the Protection of the Blessed Virgin or Theotokos has been standing on the south shore of the Chemung River in the city of Corning, NY. for close to 100 years.  The rather small and humble white-frame building is reached by 40 steps to tower over the river, but once inside the nave, the visitor receives his reward for the upward trek.  The interior of the church is like a jewelbox with contents spilled – the wall murals, the stained glass windows, the wall of icons, the ceiling, all bespeak the love of those who contributed them to the small church over those years.

 

                On October 1 (October 14 Old Calendar) Orthodox Christians celebrate a favorite holy day of the Slavic people, in which lies a little irony – more about that later.

                 The Protection, in Russian, the Pokrov, commemorates an event that took place in Constantinople in the 10^th century, in the church of Blachernae.  The city was under threat of an invasion by Slavic barbarians, and the church was filled with faithful gathered there in great fear to pray that their city be spared.  St. Andrew, the Fool for Christ, was in the church and saw the dome open and the Mother of God moving in the air in front of the altar.  She was surrounded by angels and saints as she prayed to God that He would accept the prayers of all faithful Christians and spare them and their city.  Also in the congregation was Romanos, Andrew’s friend who also saw the Virgin, who then appeared to all in the church.  In the synaxis of this holy day, St. Andrew is celebrated on October 2 and St. Romanos during that time also, because of the Christmas hymn he later wrote to the Theotokos.

                The icon of the Pokrov is one of the very few in which Christ does not appear with the Virgin.  In the icon we see her solitary figure with arms outstretched in blessing, and a white veil between them as if to protect us by it.  For close to 100 years the Theotokos has stood in protection over the city of Corning, which has undergone at least three disastrous floods and the little church of St. Mary’s has survived. 

                And the rest of the story?  Well, remember those Slavic hordes about to invade Constantinople? The Protection is a favorite holy day of the Slavic people today.  And the icon is not in the Byzantine (Contantinopolitan ) tradition

Romanian Icon-Eggs

                                                          Romanian Icon-Eggs 

 

            Most people are familiar with the Eastern European art of egg decorating called Pysanky.  Probably the most familiar are those of the Ukrainian people.  The name comes from the verb to write because a stylus is used to write with wax on the egg shell.  After the entire design is finished, the egg, which now has a great deal of wax on it, is held to the side of a candle flame and the wax is melted.  Hens’ eggs are mostly used for pysanky and the work is known for its intricacy,  delicacy, and brilliant colors.

 

            On a visit to Renninger’s Flea and Antique Market in Mt. Dora, FL I chanced on a shop with the intriguing title of “Ghost Orchid”.  No Orchids.  But tucked among mostly Romanian imported wooden items were a couple of icons in the traditional style, and then some really beautiful icons painted inside duck eggs.          

             Although the duck egg icons I found began with the pysanky process of drawing the raw egg through the hole, the method and materials used were very different.  First, tweezers were used to break away about 1/3 of the shell, leaving a jagged cut.   A festal or feast day icon was then painted inside the egg shell.  The outside of the egg shell was painted with gold and edged with an intricate design created by the pysanky method of hot wax, using beads of colored wax to form a geometric design.  The jagged edges were painted as mountain peaks, in the traditional style of Byzantine icons.  The impression was of looking into a cave where a wondrous thing was happening.  

             These two icons depict the Orthodox feast days The Descent into Hades and The Transfiguration.  For an idea of the size of the duck eggs, they are sitting in a lowly shot glass.

            The owner of the shop told me that I had bought the last four icon eggs she had and she suspected she would not get more.  For a small dealer, the fees upon costly fees, delays in shipment, and general aggravation of international importing were not worth it.  I was unhappy with this because I had already had a number of requests from friends to buy one for them.  If you’re wondering about price, they were $30 each.  Imagine how much the iconographer back in Romania got for his art!

            This wonderful “find” was proof to me, again, that natural surfaces such as unfinished wood, stone, slate, and many more, including this most elemental object, an egg, can be used to great advantage in iconography.

 He is in all places and fills all things.



Icon of the Descent into Hades

 Side of above egg icon

 

Icon of the Transfiguration

 Side of the above icon

 

        

Icons of Our Lady of Czestochowa

       I love to scrounge around antique and consignment shops, especially in Florida where we northerners often end up. I look for icons or other religious objects, and last year I found this metal-covered icon, just less than 5x7”. Curiosity made me remove the small pins holding the covering on, and take the covering off to see the icon underneath. It was actually a sort of postcard of an ancient icon, and a further look at the wood behind it showed that the whole thing was quite recently put together. It took only moments online to find that this was a copy of the icon Our Lady of Czestochowa, much loved by Polish and other Slavic people, and for whom many churches are named.

      This photo of my antiquing find shows the metal cover that has been put over the original icon to preserve it and probably to enhance and decorate it.The metal is worked so that many of the details of the icon itself, such as the designs on the robes of the Theotokos and Child, are in relief. I think a mold would have been made of the metal cover so that many copies could be made, and that probably this particular metal cover is not very old.   Most interesting was that, as the photo shows, someone had used a stylus, probably after the cover was completed, to engrave several very tiny, crude scenes on the metal cover.  These could be scenes from the life of the Theotokos as taken from the Gospel of the Nativity of Mary, an ancient manuscript.  Finally, some metal such as brass was used to make intricate halos and crowns, with angels holding the crowns, which were afixed to the metal cover, so the tiny engravings are partially hidden.

 



     In copying and painting this very old icon, above, I found it almost impossible to make out the face of the Child – evidence of the many years of veneration. The internet provided a more modern version of the icon, but I was so struck by this representation that I have painted my own, hoping to capture the lovely face of Our Lady, the Mother of God.  I chose to use the lighter skin tones and bright colors of the garments as they might have been when the icon was first painted, before years of lamp smoke, grime, and desecration gave it the name The Black Madonna.

     I am thankful to the website of Our Lady of Czestochwa National Catholic Church, in Latham, NY for the following history of the icon. 

The Miraculous Image

Tradition holds that St. Luke painted it on the top of a cypress-wood table that came from the home of the Holy Family. At the request of the faithful, Mary sat for the portrait. When it was finished, she was pleased, saying that "My grace shall accompany it." Thus began the wonderful history of the painting.

Venerated for nearly 300 years while hidden in Jerusalem, the painting was discovered by St. Helen while she was searching for the True Cross. She brought it back to Constantinople and presented it to her son, Constantine the Great, the first Christian Emperor of Rome. Constantine built a chapel for the portrait, where it remained for five centuries.

Miracle upon miracle was attributed to the intercession of Mary by persons praying before the portrait. Over the years, many enemies laid siege to Constantinople. The chapel became a center of hope for the people of the city. During one attack, the city seemed ready to fall, but the people rallied to the painting, and Constantinople was saved. Another time, the city was under attack, and the chapel caught fire. Everything was destroyed except a small section of wall upon which hung the painting of Mary and Jesus. The intense heat and soot from the fire had darkened the already dark olive features of the Madonna and Child.

Eventually, the painting was given by the Byzantine Emperor to a Ruthenian nobleman. The portrait was taken to Kiev and installed in the Royal Palace of Belz. It remained there for the next 579 years.

In 1382, the painting was damaged by invading Tartars. An arrow pierced the Miraculous Image, leaving a scar that is still visible on the neck of the Madonna. Concerned with the portrait's safety, Prince Ladislaus Opolski decided to move it to one of his castles in Upper Silesia.

On the brow of a hill called Jasna Gora ("bright hill") -- and within a few paces of the town of Czestochowa -- the horses drawing the wagon with the painting stopped. No amount of coaxing or goading could make them go on. Mary appeared to Ladislaus and told him that this spot was to be Her new home. The Miraculous Image was placed in a chapel and given to the care of the Basilian monks of the Greek Rite. A few years later, Prince Ladislaus gave its care to the Latin Rite Hermits of St. Paul, who are still there to this day.

The remarkable history of the painting continued. It figured prominently in the heroic and successful defense of Poland against invaders who were enemies of the Church. Over time, the monastery at Jasna Gora became a monastic fortress -- and the focal point for Polish nationalism.

In 1655, the monastery held out against a mighty Swedish army. In 1683, it was the Turks who attacked. And, in 1920, the Bolsheviks. As a result of these and other historical events, Our Lady of Czestochowa was crowned as Queen of Poland. Her Feast is observed on May 3 which is also the anniversary of the Polish Constitution.

Throughout the centuries, the painting did not escape desecration and mutilation. In 1430, Hussites looted the monastery. Pillaging whatever they could find, they loaded all of the treasures of Jasna Gora into wagons. Horses pulling the wagon with the painting refused to move. The Hussites threw the portrait off the wagon, and the horses began to pull it forward. One of the raiders -- seeing the jewels and gold covering the painting -- slashed at it with sabers. Having cut twice into the right cheek of Mary, he prepared to strike it for a third time -- and fell dead. The other raiders fled for fear of Divine Retribution.

Repeated efforts by skilled artists to patch the scars failed. Each time the facial cuts reappeared. It is believed to be the will of Mary that the scars should remain as a sign to any who would desecrate Her Shrine.

In 1909, vandals tore off the gold crown and "overdress" of pearls. This sacrilege was repaired and the portrait was restored with the help of Pope Pius X, who furnished a new crown. Today, a painting of Our Lady of Czestochowa adorns the altar of the Pope's private chapel at Castol Gondolfo.

Why Is She Referred to as The Black Madonna?

"Black Madonna" is a nickname. It refers to skin tones in the portrait of Mary and Jesus. They and St. Joseph lived in a hot climate. Hence, their skin tone would be dark brown or olive in order to survive the intensity of the sun and avoid skin cancer.

Not until the Renaissance were there paintings of Jesus and Mary with alabaster skin, blue eyes and blond hair. Previously, all religious artwork reflected the olive skin, with black or brown hair and eyes attributed to the Holy Family and the Apostles.

Contributing to the portrait's blackened appearance is the fact that the painting is nearly 2,000 years old. When St. Luke painted the portrait of Mary with Christ, he did so with crude oil paints, which naturally dull and darken with age.

Additionally, the painting has survived a major fire -- the one in Constantinople referred to earlier. Beyond that, tens of thousands of pots of incense have been burned near the painting while it was in the Eastern Orthodox Church. And, millions of wax candles have been placed before it as people make their prayerful offerings.

These and other factors have resulted in darkening the Miraculous Image -- the portrait now referred to as "The Black Madonna."

 

 

Stained glass windows

 

The trees in the woods across the field from our house have already begun to change color these last two weeks.  Autumn comes early to this part of New York state.

                Today I am going to begin work in earnest on a small but interesting project: painting the face of Christ on glass.  Of course, thereby hangs a tale.

                We meet so many interesting people as we go through life and sometimes we connect in ways not first imagined.  Last winter in Florida, I attended an art exhibit at our local city hall and met an artist who works in wood.  Living on the shore of a lake, in the middle of what once was a cypress grove, his imagination has been fired by shapes he sees in cypress “knees”.  With a minimum of polishing and cutting, he reveals a subject and gives it a title.  I was struck by his Roadrunner, and as we talked, I told him about the several icons I had painted of Christ on weathered wood.  Being a faithful person, he understood what I am trying to express:  that Christ is present in all places and all things, because He is the creator of all.

                It was not until later that I met this artist’s wife, who works in stained glass, usually creating tropical scenes.  She had recently received a commission for a number of stained glass windows for a church in the Florida Keys, each to illustrate a Gospel parable.  However, she felt that she was not capable of painting the face of Christ for the scenes.   Her husband suggested I might be able to do it.  And that was the beginning of a new venture in art for me!

 

In Vince's studio with completed window of "The Good Shepherd"

 

 

"The Loaves and the Fishes" installed in Keys church

 

Christ walking on the water to Peter

 

                Believe me when I say I had no idea what I was doing when I started, and after two completed windows I am still learning how much I don’t know, but apparently my friends and their church are happy with the results. 

Icon of Christ of Sinai

 

Christ of Sinai on cypress

                                                                   Christ of Sinai

          An unusual icon, from St. Catherine’s Monastery on Mt. Sinai, has greatly impressed many people over the years because it seems more like a personal portrait of Christ than the sort of icon they have experienced before.   It was probably painted in the court of Emperor Justinian in Constantinople in the 6^th century and sent to St. Catherine’s Monastery as the Emperor’s gift to the monastery he had established in the Sinai desert.

          I have painted the icon a number of times, but one day I began to see it in another way.  I have always loved the look of weathered wood, especially when it turns a lovely silvery gray, and one day I chanced to come upon a pile of slab wood out in the country.  Wood is so significant in the Bible: God created the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden; He instructed Noah to make an Ark of wood; He hung from a wooden Cross.  God created all things, and He is in all things.  This weathered wood seemed a fitting medium for an icon of Christ, and this one in particular. 

In my icon, I have omitted a background as well as a gold leaf halo,  so it would appear as if Christ were materializing from the wood.

The following is an excerpt regarding the Christ of Sinai icon from “The Open Door: Entering the Sanctuary of Icons”, by Frederica Matthewes-Greene:        

          "This icon differs from other icons in several ways.  It is more realistic, less stylized.  Christ’s face is also more natural-looking, more like a portrait.  Refer to Egyptian or Roman paintings of the first centuries A.D. and you will notice that this icon resembles them in the expressiveness of the wide eyes and the subtle skin tones.

          This is probably one of the oldest surviving examples of Christian art.  It was painted mid-6^th century probably in the imperial capital of Constantinople, to judge by the fineness of its execution.  It has spent its existence in Sinai which accounts for its survival.  The earliest Christians have gone here to live in caves as monastics near the site of the Burning Bush and the mountain where Moses received the Law.  After years of attacks by Bedouin tribes, Emperor Justinian built a walled monastery here around 550 AD.  It is now named for St. Catherine of Alexandria and has been in operation ever since.

          The icon is of the type called Pantocrator, which means Ruler of All.  In this type of icon Christ is often revealed as the eternal judge, and may be shown sitting on a throne.  His right hand is raised in blessing and in his left hand is a massive Gospel book.  In some icons the book is closed, and in others there might be a passage from the Gospels.

          Although most icons are written in egg tempera, this one uses a much earlier method called wax encaustic, where melted wax is mixed with powdered pigments.  In 1962 the layers of grime from incense and candle smoke were cleaned to reveal the original.

          This icon has been said to have the ability to look into one’s soul.  The artist has achieved this is through the distortion of perspective.  Notice how large the Gospel book is, and that the “vanishing point” is ourselves, not Christ.  We have the feeling that He is viewing us, rather than we, Him.

          As we look at this icon we see how ancient His love is.  He was loving us before we ever turned to look into these eyes.  He has been loving us a long time, from a Cross two thousand years before we were born.  We don’t have to improve, or cover up our faults, to earn this love.  It has been surrounding us all our loves, waiting for us to receive it.  Perhaps that is the meaning of the faint smile.  He loves us too much to let us remain as we are, confused and mired in sin, hurting others and ourselves.  He will heal us, and His healing is sure… There is great patience there.  He is waiting; He is not in any hurry.  He will be right here, even when you forget Him and get tangled in your life again, and have to turn around and come back to Him – not once, but over and over again. 

         

                                                  -------------------

 

          Western religious paintings may seem accomplished and beautiful, but noisy.  In a way that is hard to define, icons touch a completely different interior level; deeper down there is a place where we first confront life, before we decide what we think or feel about it.  That is the intimate place where icons speak.  They are companions in prayer.  They have their fullest impact on those who are saturated in prayer and Scripture, who participate in the full life of the Church, with all her mysteries, hymns and worship. 

          Look at Him again, and let Him look at you.  Take your time.  You may have things you want to say, and then you might run out of things to say and need just to be silent before Him.  This is a quiet, but very deep, icon."

Some of my own icons

      Here are some of my own icons, about 10% of my output in the last 8 years or so.  One of them is the first icon I ever did, as well as the second, so if you can figure out which they are, I'll have to dream up a prize.
      Mostly I use prepared panels from Innerglow which are made of 3 layers of Douglas fir.  I have also used birch boards from Home Depot cut into appropriate lengths, and lots of gesso, lots of sandpaper, and lots and lots of elbow grease.  Not worth all the effort.
      In the last year I have been using weathered lumber (slab wood) and some Florida cypress, unseasoned, to use only with my Christ of Sinai icons.  (Until I figure out how to put a label under each icon, you'll identify this icon because it is narrower than the others and the appearance is more modern by comparison.)
     I was taught using Jo Sanya acrylic paints rather than egg tempera and I make no apologies.  I know there are people who consider the former to be inferior, but I don't subscribe to that theory.
     Whatever the method or materials, the experience of creating an icon is, for me, difficult to describe.  I simply feel that God truly guides me in this work. 
     When I have attended a class and we view the finished icons, we always remark that they are all beautiful.  But the true beauty of an icon is in its eventual use as a "window into Heaven" for those who believe.

My icons

icon of the Transfiguration

 

The Icon of the Transfiguration

August 6/19 

          The feast of the Transfiguration of Christ in the Orthodox Church is one of the twelve great feasts of the Church and is preceded by a period of fasting.  In the Orthodox view the Transfiguration is not only a feast in honor of Jesus, but a feast of the Holy Trinity, for all three Persons of the Trinity are interpreted as being present at that moment:  God the Father spoke from heaven; God the Son was the one being transfigured, and God the Holy Spirit was present in the form of a cloud. In this sense, the transfiguration is also considered the "Small Epiphany" (the "Great Epiphany" being the Baptism of Christ, when the Holy Trinity appeared in a similar pattern).

          The Transfiguration event is reported in the Gospel accounts of Matthew, Mark and Luke, and the Letter of 2Peter.

          In the icon, three still figures stand on peaks of Mt. Tabor.   The central figure of Christ holds His Scroll of the Law, and He is surrounded by a mandorla, which is used to depict sacred moments which transcend time and space, such as in the Resurrection,  and the Dormition of the Theotokos.  On His right looking toward Him is Prophet Moses, and on His left, also looking toward Him, the Prophet Elijah.  These two saints of the Old Testament had encounters with God the Father during their lifetimes and so have a special relationship with Christ himself. 

          The stillness of these three figures contrasts sharply with the figures of Peter, James and John, who seem to be hurtling down the mountainside - their sandals have come off their feet.   Peter shields his face from the brilliance.  Their faces show the shock and awe they are experiencing at this cataclysmic event as they witness this encounter of their familiar friend and Lord, and the two Prophets.

          The word “transfiguration” in Greek is “metamorphosis”, meaning a change of form, or structure;  a transformation.  We also are going to be made into something else, as Peter, John and James realized as they fell to the ground in awe of Christ’s Transfiguration. Christ revealed to them a glimpse, only as much as they could stand to see, of what we’re all journeying toward. The Transfiguration is said to have occurred 40 days before the Crucifixion, so His disciples knew now that He went to the Cross under His own power and of His free will. They knew that the Cross would not be the end of the story but that something must lay in store beyond it, not just for Jesus, but for all of us.

          Worshippers at the service of the Transfiguration traditionally bring baskets of fruit to be blessed, since this is at the end of summer when grapes and other fruits are ripening. Prayers are said for the healing of those who eat the fruits, because in ancient times most medicines came from plants.

          Transfigurations are everywhere: grapes become wine, wine becomes the Blood of Christ, herbs become medicine. Everywhere, God is working through His creation.

           

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