Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

The Hidden Skull: The Story and Symbolism of Filippo Tarchiani’s St. Dominic in Penitence Part Two

 St. Dominic is shown beating himself as an atonement for his sins in Filippo Tarchiani’s painting St. Dominic in Penitence. However, if St. Dominic tried to flail his whip in the space he is given in the painting, he would knock over the crucifix and flowers on the altar, break the hourglass behind him, and possibly crack the hidden skull sitting on the bottom of the altar.
 
St. Dominic in Penitence by Filippo Tarchiani. A public domain image through Open Access for Scholarly Content. 
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Brian J. Brille, 2015. www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/440900
Why would Tarchiani paint St. Dominic in a cramped and unrealistic space?

Perhaps the story told by the symbolic objects cluttering the foreground was more important to Tarchiani than portraying a realistic scene. What is the story the objects tell?

In my last post I discussed the symbolic meaning of St. Dominic’s peculiar halo, the altar, and the hidden skull. Today I will address the symbolism of the remaining objects in St. Dominic in Penitence and the symbolic nature of this work as a whole.
 
Excerpt from St. Dominic in Penitence by Filippo Tarchiani highlighting the flowers, Photo by blog author.
Let’s look at the delicate vase of flowers perched on the edge of the altar. Flowers in paintings, especially paintings from the 1600s, are loaded with significance.

Flowers shown in a religious context represent life, death, and resurrection. There are six flowers in St. Dominic in Penitence. The number six symbolizes the six days of creation. There are three purple flowers clumped in a row. The number three represents supreme power and the holy trinity and the color purple symbolizes sorrow, penitence, and truth in their color. The purple flowers reflect the two sides of religion seen in St. Dominic in Penitence—the truth and power of holiness, and the sorrow and pain which comes with religious life.

This dualism is referenced again in the two red flowers which symbolize the human and divine nature of Christ.

The white flower stands alone to unite these two contrasting sides into one pure and divine whole.

In this painting St. Dominic appears to be experiencing a moment of divinity represented by the white flower based on the light surrounding his body and his reverent gaze towards the crucifix on the altar.

St. Dominic may have been a saintly man, but he was still a man. The moment of pure communion shown in this painting is only a moment. St. Dominic was obliged to return to the dark and murky realm of humanity represented by the shadows in St. Dominic in Penitence.
 
Pope Innocentius III excommunicating the Albigensians (left), Massacre against the Albigensians by the crusaders (right). A public domain image from the 14th century. Source.
St. Dominic was no stranger to the messiness of human life. He lived during the bloody crusade the Catholics fought from 1209-1229 against the Albigenses, a group of heretics. However, St. Dominic brought some of the peace seen in St. Dominic in Penitence to the chaos of the crusade. Despite being on the antagonistic Catholic side of war, St. Dominic did not physically fight against the Albigenses. Instead he worked to protect all people from the violence of the war by providing them with food and shelter.
 
Excerpt from St. Dominic in Penitence by Filippo Tarchiani highlighting the window, Photo by blog author.
St. Dominic’s ability to influence people without resorting to force is represented by the window in the right-hand corner of St. Dominic in Penitence. No light enters the painting through this window, but instead the window may allow the light surrounding St. Dominic to shine out upon the world.

St. Dominic’s persuasive power is also demonstrated by the way our gaze travels around St. Dominic in Penitence. St. Dominic himself, the illuminated focus of Tarchiani’s work, draws the eye first, just as St. Dominic the man might draw a person in by his saintly life and teaching. Then, our eyes follow St. Dominic’s gaze to fall upon the crucifix on the altar, representing how St. Dominic led his followers to Christ. The crucifix faces St. Dominic and following its direction and our eyes return to the saint. This action could symbolize St. Dominic’s disciples being led to live a saintly life through following the teachings of Christ.
 
Excerpt from St. Dominic in Penitence by Filippo Tarchiani highlighting the hourglass and books, Photo by blog author.
Outside of the light surrounding St. Dominic and underneath the window on top of some closed books is an hourglass. The hourglass represents the time and the passing of human life. The closed books the hourglass rests on symbolize unknown knowledge. The hourglass and the closed books in St. Dominic in Penitence bring us back to the frailty of this painting. Just as one movement from St. Dominic’s whip could break the objects surrounding him and shatter the peace of this painting, so the reality of human life could end without notice. There is inevitable destruction lurking in St. Dominic in Penitence, but in spite of this destruction or even because of it, St. Dominic appears in a moment of divine bliss.


Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Bach’s Job Application: The Mass in B-Minor


Johann Sebastian Bach’s job was in danger. In 1733 Bach was working as a music teacher at a Lutheran church (Thomaskirche) in Leipzig. The church and town leaders, Bach's bosses, accused Bach of being a poor teacher and wanted to fire him. Bach replied that his students were untalented and unreceptive to teaching. 

Bach managed to keep his job, but tensions were high and he was tired of Leipzig. Bach applied for the position of Court Composer for Elector of Saxony Friedrich Augustus II’s court in Dresden. The title of Court Composer was purely honorary and non-residential. Bach would continue to work at Leipzig whether or not he obtained the position. But, being the honorary Court Composer would allow Bach to mentally escape Leipzig and mingle with the elite Dresden music scene.

Friedrich Augustus II was a great patron of the arts, and he was a Catholic. As a nod to the Elector’s tastes, Bach sent a short Latin Catholic Mass (the first half of the Mass in B-Minor) with his application. Bach did not compose this Mass completely from scratch. Instead, he took some of his best musical themes from the past and used them as inspiration. The mini Mass was dramatic, which suited the current fashion in Dresden. The instrumental parts of the Mass were written to especially compliment the talents of the Dresden Court musicians, and the vocal parts were perfect for the popular opera singers of the day. 
First page of the Benedictus from Bach's autograph score of the B-Minor Mass.
A public domain image. Source.

Three years later, Bach obtained the coveted title of Court Composer and set the Mass aside, but that wasn't the end of the piece. In 1745 Bach set to work on the B-Minor Mass again.

What prompted Bach to pick up the Mass in 1745 and add the second half?

The true answer to this question is no one really knows.

One theory, illustrated by John Eliot Gardiner in his book Bach: Music in the Castle of Heaven, is that Bach was inspired by the Second Silesian War. This war ravaged Leipzig, and after peace was declared, Bach revived and revised the shorter Mass for a war memorial service. Coming back to the Mass for this service may have inspired Bach to transform the piece into a full Mass ordinary.
 John Eliot Gardiner's book.
Photo taken by blog author.

Or, perhaps Bach always intended to complete his great Mass. The great composers before Bach like Palestrina, and Josquin des Prez, all wrote Catholic Masses. By writing a Mass ordinary, Bach was putting himself in the category of these musical giants and preserving his legacy. 
 
First Page of the Credo from Bach's autograph score of the B-Minor Mass.
A public domain image. Source.
Or maybe Bach wanted to challenge himself with the B-Minor Mass. Bach had written 150 or more church cantatas by the time he started on the Mass. Composing a Mass would allow him to experiment with a new and unfamiliar musical terrain. 

Despite the sheer number of cantatas and other compositions Bach produced, he may have been scared that his music wouldn’t survive long. Church music in Bach’s time was not valued very highly and the paper it was written on was often used as scrap paper or kindling for fires. By composing the B-Minor Mass and preserving a copy of at least half with Friedrich Augustus II, Bach made sure his music would be remembered, even if his cantata scores were burned.

Whatever the motives or inspiration behind the B-Minor Mass, I think it is Bach’s greatest work. Since Bach composed the Mass over the span of many years, it contains compositions and themes from across his lifetime, giving the listener the full picture of his musical ability. The Mass also serves as showcase of the best Western musicals styles, from the Medieval era to the late Baroque. Throughout the Mass, Bach seamlessly blends movements which were ultra-modern in his time, like the Domine Deus, with pieces based off of ancient Gregorian chants, like the Gratias.
 
Photo of program for Trinity Church Wall Street's performance of the Mass in B-Minor.
Photo taken by FAA. Used with permission.
I was lucky to see the B-Minor Mass performed live—it’s something. Bach himself never did. He died soon after he finished the Mass. The score lay dormant for just over a hundred years, before the full Mass was first performed in 1859. Now, the Mass in B-Minor is one of Bach’s most loved compositions.
 
Author's ticket to the B-Minor Mass.
Photo taken by author.
Listen to the full Mass in B-Minor here!