Battle of Issus

The Battle of Issus is one of the most iconic and earliest battle scenes that the art world has found preserved.  State-of-the-art for its time, the method with which this mosaic was constructed did not rely on the more rudimentary methods of using pebbles to create the picture. Instead, tesserae was used, a method that employs cut glass to create a more accurate and smoother depiction of the desired scene. The fact that such a technique was used for this elaborate palace mosaic speaks to the importance that was tied to the moment in history it features. Not only was it placed in the prominent House of Faan in Pompeii, but also, two decades after the triumphant battle, this event finds itself immortalized in the private homes of high society. The mosaic itself is stirring in both composition and detail. Often, the use of light within this crowded, tumultuous piece receives great praise. Through tiny pieces of glass, “the Greek painter here truly opened a window into a world filled not only with figures, trees, and sky but also with light” (Kleiner, 142).  Still, while not oppressive in color or lighting, the mosaic certainly delivers the chaotic nature of war.  Horses displayed in all different views run erratically among the men; one man can even be seen among the mosaic’s fragments crouching and looking up nervously between the turning hooves of the horse above.  Javelins fly and stab at various angles, seen impaling soldiers and leaving the hands of those still imbued with enough strength to fight. At the bottom of the picture, a soldier can even be seen watching his own dying reflection in the ineffectual shield that now lays unused on top of him. The reality of war’s disorderly nature is made clear, but the smaller details reveal the artist’s sentiment regarding such combat. With the exception of the dying horse in the middle of the mosaic, there is not a trace of blood within this piece. While destruction is evident, the reality of its gruesomeness, especially given the methods of combat of the time, is not revealed and instead replaced with an idealized scene of approaching victory. The intention of this painting is also clear in the way in which Alexander and Darius are characterized. Alexander’s gaze appears focused, intent on solidifying his superiority, while Darius flees, accompanied by his harried charioteer, stretching out a hand as a menial expression of submission or a merciful request.  Clearly, the actual victory, shown in progress within this mural, was one that commissioners of this piece reveled in, and so it stands praised for eternity in glass tiles. 

Parthenon

While today assumed to be a piece of incredible architecture, the Parthenon had much religious and political significance in the days of its use. It was built for the goddess Athena but it wasn't necessarily used as our typical idea of a temple or church. The building instead housed the treasury of the Delian League, the key to Athens fiscal success and also the basis for many conflicts and military actions among its "protected allies."  The Parthenon is a huge columned structure, relying on the Doric style, and built to give the impression of perfect order and symmetry even though when closely observed, the architects have fudged measurements in order to trick the eye.  As a symbol, it is one of the foremost associated with Greece and one that the country ties closely to their tradition of democracy. 

The Last Supper, Dali

The Last Supper as depicted by Dali merges surrealism with Christian doctrine. I believe he does so successfully. The arrangement around the table is more realistic than da Vinci's set-up with everyone on each side. While convention and tradition are kind of thrown to the wind, it still feels like a spiritually infused painting. I like that Christ's body is over the table, symbolizing his body as the communion sacrifice. It could even be fit into conspiracy theory pretty easily because of its mathematical qualities and the geometry that it seems to draw to its center.

Burial of Atala, Girodet-Trioson

Inspired by the novel entitled Atala, this painting depicts the burial of the title character. She was a woman who was supposed to become a nun, but became attracted to a Native American--the man hugging her legs. Rather than succumb to lust and passion, she poisoned herself and the above painting shows her burial. Despite Atala's pure intentions, Girodet-Trioson portrays her in an almost seducing manner, with sheer fabric over her breast and the contours of her body easily visible. The cross in the background of the painting and the story the painting was inspired by speak to the loftiness of spiritual piety and aligns Atala's struggle that ended in death with the struggle of Christ. The prevalence of light within such a sad picture could be taken as a condoning of her actions or a sign of her hopeful resurrection, just like Christ. 

Although the whole suicide issue sure throws a wrench in the reasoning of this moral Christian painting...

Elevation of the Cross, Rubens

Relying on chiaroscuro to create the dramatic effect of the events taking place, Rubens shows the symbolic weight of all the world's sins upon Christ crucified. The size and muscles of the men trying to lift the body of Jesus would seem enough normally. It is their well-painted struggle to elevate and move him that drives home to weight of the world that was literally weighing on the Savior. 

I feel like Rubens paints his men like he paints his women, though trading voluptuous curves for hardened musculatures. 

Conversion of St. Paul, Caravaggio

Caravaggio painted two paintings on this subject. He blends the medieval story with the Biblical story of events while also conveying the sense of misunderstanding that most likely coincided with the actual event. 

I do find it interesting that in a painting depicting the blinding of Saul/Paul by what the Bible claims to be a flash of light, it is a exceptionally dark picture. Perhaps this is to symbolize Paul's darkness in the moment, in judgment and also in physical sight. 

Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Bernini

"I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying."

-St. Teresa of Avila

Bernini sought to capture St. Teresa's ecstasy as described in her personal account of her encounter with an angel. It is a blend of both physical and spiritual pleasure. While some may pass by and claim that it appears like a moment of physical climax, it must be remembered that this is a moment that no other human but St. Teresa can describe or experience. And even when placed in her hands it is clearly an event beyond the realms of our physical world so the understanding of it is skewed and unclear. The title I think is fitting--ecstasy meaning an overwhelming feeling of great happiness or joyful excitement or 

an emotional or religious frenzy or trancelike state, originally one involving an experience of mystic self-transcendence. That seems to fit the bill though we could not possibly understand it ourselves. I think it is beautiful, from the angel's face to St. Teresa's, to the account of what actually happened and the attempt to capture it in art.