“As Catholics, we receive tradition, but we grow, and develop, and build upon it.”
Lessons Learned
How do we revive the Gothic form as a living artistic tradition? What should we do? What should we avoid?
We can learn some lessons from the revival of the Iconographic form. The revival of the Iconographic form began, arguably, with the work of Leonid Ouspensky in the early part of the 20th century. It picked up steam with the publication of “The Meaning of Icons” by Ouspensky and Vladimir Lossky in 1952. Almost everything we understand about icons can be traced back to the work of Ouspensky and Lossky.
The revival has not been without its twists and turns. I recall a conversation with an Orthodox monk who was of the opinion that if you were not an Orthodox monk, you had no business painting icons.
Then there was/is the controversy over what is and what is not, an icon. Some iconographers insist that an icon, in order for it to be a “true” icon, must be painted in egg tempera, on a wooden panel, and be a copy of an existing Byzantine icon. But this attitude renders the art of iconography a “dead” art. It is said, rightly, that iconography is more than art. But at the same time, iconography is not less than art. The value of the artistic gift is to continually show us new interpretations of sacred art that allow us to see ancient truths with new eyes.
Thankfully many of these early attitudes are changing as we learn more about icons and how they were created. Iconographers such as George Kordis and Fr. Stamatis Skliris are creating new work with colors and compositions that speak to a contemporary Church.
Perhaps the most important lesson to take from this example is that if we want to revive the Gothic form as a living tradition, we should be very careful when talking about rules or canons that suffocate the development of the art. Certainly there are artistic conventions, conventions that are largely agreed to by the majority of artists working in the field, that help define the type. But to paraphrase a certain popular cinematic pirate, they are more guidelines than rules.
The Gothic form has been revived at least once before, during the Victorian era with the works of Pugin, Morris, Ruskin et. al.. While Pugin is credited with starting the movement it involved a number of artists working in different fields and lasted well beyond Pugin’s death at the age of 40. Though they studied the works of the past they did not feel they were bound to the earlier forms. In the field of stained glass, William Morris, Selwyn Image, and Carl Almquist shared an aversion to recreating a pastiche of Medieval windows or referencing them in an overly literal way. The result was an amazing legacy of stained glass that draws its inspiration from the Gothic form but speaks to the Christians of the era in which it was made.
The revival included manuscript illustration as can be seen in the Kelmscott Press edition of “The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer,” illustrated by Edward Burne-Jones.
The same growth and development can be seen in iconography in Russia with the work of Ivan Vasnetsov. His rendering of the icon of the “Communion of the Apostles” is clearly modern in that it departs from some of the iconographic conventions but it is still an icon worthy of veneration. It is popular to dismiss this period of iconography as “degraded” by Western influences but I would disagree. Vasnetsov receives what was done before with respect and builds upon it, giving us, as Saint John Paul II puts it, a new revelation of the Divine.
Unfortunately these developments in sacred art were derailed by two world wars. In an effort to determine the cause of the horror, everything that might be considered the old way of doing things was rejected in favor of the new. Art, including sacred art spiraled into a seemingly endless parade of “isms,” expressionism, cubism, fauvism, etc..
Moving Forward
So how do we work within the Gothic Form as a living tradition? We can start by defining the attributes of sacred art and offering some stylistic guidelines.
In looking at the Iconographic, Gothic, and Baroque forms, what do they share in common that makes them especially suitable to the liturgy? First there is the subject matter. Sacred or liturgical art takes its inspiration from Christ, His saints, the Bible, and events in Christian history. Sacred art cannot contradict the teachings of the Church.
Light is an important factor in all three forms. The Icon suggests the uncreated light of Heaven. The Gothic contrasts the light of Heaven with the earthly light as we proceed in our journey back to God. In the Baroque, light represents our struggle against the darkness.
All three forms point to a greater truth. They invite us to look beyond the surface image to the contemplation of heavenly things. To achieve this, sacred art seeks a balance between realism and stylization or symbolism.
For the Gothic form, I would offer the following further guidelines. The form is defined by line. Color may add volume to the form but harsh, cast shadows are to be avoided. Figures and faces can be represented more naturalistically than in the Iconographic form but care should be taken to balance between the natural and the abstract. We want to be reminded that we are looking at an image which directs our imagination to the heavenly prototype. Whenever possible, figures are represented in the middle ground and depicted in their entirety. This does not of course obviate the possibility of half portraits of specific saints that are common in iconography these days.
From here we can go into more detail on such conventions as to how specific people, places, and things are depicted. But that is perhaps best left for another time.
I would recommend students new to the form begin by copying medieval examples. This is an excellent way to learn the art-form but it is just that, a way to learn. In a sense it is learning the rules before you begin to play around with them.
I offer these guidelines as a starting point for renewing the Gothic as a living form of art. Living things grow and develop. We cannot simply copy the past and expect it to connect with the present. As Catholics, we receive tradition, but we grow, and develop, and build upon it. I invite a discussion as ultimately, artistic conventions are the result of agreement among artists.
Part of truly authentic sacred art is that it still serves its purpose generations after it was executed. We may never know which, if any, of our works will withstand the test of time, but that is the work of each generation of artists.