Pondering 3 Paintings and Painters

My first unsatisfactory grade in school came in art and music in the seventh grade from Miss Asperheim. In spite of that, I appreciate both, very much as a layperson in the respective fields. I do not pay that much attention to the biography of the painter, for example. If I appreciate the painting, that is enough for me.

However, Elizabeth Lunday, in an article entitled, “Great Christian Art by Really Lousy Christians” (http://mentalfloss.com/article/23551/great-christian-art-really-lousy-christians), wrote that if you want a heavenly picture, it is often best to hire a sinner. She gave several examples, but I will highlight three. You can easily find the paintings on the web.

           

Check out The Calling of St. Matthew by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio. His paintings, which combine a realistic observation of the human state, both physical and emotional, with a dramatic use of lighting, had a formative influence on Baroque painting. He burst upon the Rome art scene in 1600 with the success of his first public commissions, the Martyrdom of Saint Matthew and Calling of Saint Matthew. Thereafter he never lacked commissions or patrons, yet he handled his success poorly. He was jailed on several occasions, vandalized his own apartment, and ultimately had a death sentence pronounced against him by the Pope after killing a young man, possibly unintentionally, after a tennis match, on May 29, 1606. An early published notice on him, dating from 1604 and describing his lifestyle three years previously. It recounts that  

"after a fortnight's work he will swagger about for a month or two with a sword at his side and a servant following him, from one ball-court to the next, ever ready to engage in a fight or an argument, so that it is most awkward to get along with him   

Please note how the apostle is in a dark and dirty Roman tavern, surrounded by lowlifes. That is because Caravaggio spent plenty of time in these pubs himself, drinking and brawling.

            Let us consider a painter most of us have at least heard of at some point. Rembrandt has a well-regarded 1633 etching The Good Samaritan. Having achieved youthful success as a portrait painter, personal tragedy and financial hardship marked Rembrandt's later years. Yet his etchings and paintings were popular throughout his lifetime. The etching of the Good Samaritan is so down to earth that it has a dog relieving itself in the foreground. Members of the Dutch Reformed Church loved Rembrandt’s realistic artwork but did not appreciate his relationships with women. He painted his wife, Saskia, as a prostitute in a tavern, sitting in the lap of one of the most well-known of Jesus’ characters, the prodigal son. After Saskia died, he became lovers with his housekeeper and then left her for another servant, causing his housekeeper to take him to court. Messy, messy, messy.

           

 

Rembrandt lost the support of church members because of his behavior and died in poverty in 1669 — but not before he painted one of his greatest works, Return of the Prodigal Son. Like the sinful son in the parable, maybe Rembrandt knew he needed forgiveness.

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then there is Salvador Dali, the artist who created The Sacrament of the Last Supper. Although born to devout Catholic parents in Spain, he was an atheist who indulged every outlandish whim, including the throwing of orgies that he called “erotic masses.” Dali returned to his Catholic roots after moving to the United States, but some people questioned his sincerity. Dali may have been motivated more by money than by spirituality, bragging that postcards of his Last Supper sold more copies than all of the works of Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael combined.

 

            Of course, I have no right to pass judgment on these painters. I can appreciate their paintings. Among the beauties of the Christian message, though, is that God can take a human life that has become twisted almost beyond recognition, and make it something beautiful. All we need to do is let the grace of God touch us and begin the life-long work of transformation.