New Liturgical Movement: New Illustration from Matthew Alderman

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via New Liturgical Movement: New Illustration from Matthew Alderman.

Friday, January 29, 2010

New Illustration from Matthew Alderman

by Matthew Alderman

Matthew Alderman. St. Joan of Arc with SS. Louise de Marillac and Francis de Sales. 10″ x 13.5″. Private Collection, Wisconsin. January 2010.

Towards the end of last year, I was approached by two clients, independently, who both commissioned ink illustrations of St. Joan of Arc–one for his girlfriend for a Christmas present, the other for his wife, as a gift on her birthday, that is, today, the Extraordinary Form feast of St. Francis de Sales. I have already posted about the first Joan over at The Shrine (and may crosspost it over here at some point in the future), and this item is about the second. These two projects were particularly challenging, given I have always worked hard not to repeat myself. Liturgical illustration and iconography is formulaic by its nature, at least as to content, but certainly there is some degree of latitude when it comes to rendering that content visible, at least up to a certain point. The great Irish stained-glass designer and illustrator Harry Clarke often referred to the various tics of color and contrast he experimented with as his latest “gadgett” (sic), a self-depreciating term which belies the strong iconographic (if occasionally somewhat stylisticially idiosyncratic) quality of his work.

As I have written elsewhere, St. Joan’s iconography is deceptively simple–girl in armor, banner, fleurs-de-lys, enough. Yet, many of the “official” images of her–holy cards, plaster statues, and the like–tend to be more tempered with 19th century sentimentality than a real ecclesiastical sensibility. Some are historically illogical–it is hard to believe St. Joan would have worn the long encumbering skirts she is shown wearing, and often show her hair considerably longer than it would have been in truth. On the other hand, liturgical art is not an exercise in historical reconstruction or photorealism, and such reminders of her feminine genius show us that while men and women alike are called to fight under Christ’s banner–in Joan’s case, taking that banner into the ferocious heart of battle–the sexes have their own unique ways of manifesting courage and fortitude.

St. Joan’s masterful strategies, earthy commonsense and even mysticism, have a feminine spin to them. Still, one should not mistake femininity for mere girlishness, and any image of her ought to reflect that genial no-nonsense quality that radiates from any firsthand account of her deeds. So this is why I elected to give her a skirt–plus the fact I didn’t like the way the early sketches turned out) but also kept the shorter haircut that is roughly what she would have worn in life. (In truth, it would have been a bowl haircut of the sort associated with Henry V as portrayed by Laurence Olivier, but that would have simply looked odd.)

St. Joan is shown in full armor, of an elegant simplicity and decorated with fleurs de lys, her pose reminiscent of medieval tomb slabs. She holds–in a somewhat exaggerated incarnation–the sword decorated with five crosses–she discovered buried under the floor of a church dedicated to St. Katherine as the result of a vision. The arms granted by the king to her relations is shown over her shoulder. Her swordbelt is decorated with the smoke and flame of her execution and the cross pommée associated with St. Michael, one of her famous Voices. Under her feet are the flames of her death at the stake, which dissolves into whorls of smoke that merge into the clouds of heaven. Overhead are her final words, “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” which also recall the inscription “Jhesus Maria” on her banner. At top, Christ is shown with the attributes of the Lord of Hosts. While this is a title we often associate with God the Father, the depiction is derived from an image in a medieval manuscript.

The client requested that St. Joan be shown accompanied by SS. Louise de Marillac and Francis de Sales, two other saints important to his wife. St. Louise is shown in the standard iconographic manner (the direct precedent in this case is an image of her in St. Peter’s), accompanied by a Daughter of Charity in the traditional headdress, holding up a foundling child. An angel above holds an escucheon of the order’s emblem; the text on the scroll, translated, reads “The Charity of Christ impells us,” a phrase associated with St. Vincent de Paul, St. Louise’s priestly co-worker.

St. Francis de Sales is depicted in the right-hand panel holding a book and pen, the book emblazoned with his emblem of a flaming heart, the symbol of charity. He is shown in cappa magna with a pectoral cross on a ribbon. I have seen and heard a number of things as to when use of the pectoral cross was permitted with the cappa magna, and whether it was used on a chain, ribbon or cord. My precedent here was an image of the theologian Bishop Bossuet in cappa magna–a figure of the following century, but with a pectoral cross and ribbon similar to one shown in an image of St. Francis wearing a mozzetta and rochet. An angel above carries the saint’s personal arms, while the insignia of the Institute of Christ the King, which is under his patronage, is in the lower left-hand corner. The client and his wife are active in the local Institute apostolate. The motto Veritatem facientes in caritate, derived from St. Paul, is also associated with St. Francis de Sales.

While this assemblage of saints has as its origin something distinctly personal, we see in this juxtaposition three great holy figures springing from the Church’s eldest (if now rather wayward) daughter, France, and also bringing together the virtues of charity in action, truth in charity, and St. Joan’s own very active witness to God’s truth and justice.

(Crossposted to The Shrine of the Holy Whapping.)

Shrine of the Holy Whapping: New Line Art from Matthew Alderman

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via Shrine of the Holy Whapping: New Line Art from Matthew Alderman.

New Line Art from Matthew Alderman

S. Joan of Arc with her Voices: SS. Michael, Katherine and Margaret. Ink (text added electronically here; original with text in ink), December 2009. Private Collection, Washington, D.C.

S. Joan of Arc would, on the surface, be an iconographic cakewalk: sketch a little dark-haired girl in armor, throw in a few fleurs-de-lys, her unmistakeable Jhesus Maria banner, a few angels, rinse and repeat. Yet, within that basic framework there are dozens of variations, some justly ubiquitous, and some which have embedded themselves in the pious mind without much logic in her personality or symbolic justification. Many second-rate holy cards show her as an irritatingly soulful Victorian heroine, and films like to show her as tall, feminine and stately–or in the case of the horrible The Messenger, as tall, psychopathic and androgynous. A good deal of evidence suggests the Maid of Orleans was rather on the short side, and while she managed to be both mystical and strangely street-smart in terms of commonsense, she was a commander and tactician, not a sword-slashing beserker. (She seems to have used the weapon she unearthed under the altar of Ste.-Catherine-des-Fierbois, after a vision guided her there, more as a field marshal’s baton than an offensive weapon). She was also unmistakably female, if perhaps not always visibly feminine. Her armor and cropped hair were, after all, assumed out of convenience than preference: it is perhaps best to think of her as looking a bit like a college sophomore wearing her football player brother’s equipment–sure of herself, sensible, level-headed, but just ever-so-slightly out of place.

So I tried to pick up on as much of this as I could in this image–making her strong yet young, maidenly yet military, and never just a St. George with a slightly different anatomy. Women can be as courageous and hardy as men, but they always bring something different to the table when are called on by God and circumstances to roll their metaphorical sleeves up. My first inclination was to try to avoid the swoony soft heroine we all know from chipped plaster statues–long hair, and often wearing a skirt over her armored legs, improbably considering her assumption of male dress off the field for both the protection of her chastity and as an effort to be taken seriously by the king and his knights. Not to mention the safety risk it might have posed. Certainly she might have worn a surcoat, and probably a rather rich one. But I was unsatisfied with the results, and opted for a modified bit of drapery, more for symbolic and artistic reasons–as a reminder that her strength and her identity as a woman are harder to separate than some revisionists might assume.

There are numerous other details scattered throughout the work alluding to her story–laurel leaves of victory paired with lillies of virginity round her halo, a somewhat operatically exaggerated version of the sword of St. Catherine with its five crosses, and the arms granted to her brothers that are still borne by the family to this day. These are shown at her feet and repeated on the breastplate of her armor, which also continues the laurel motif. I considered ornamenting her armor further, but wished to have it convey a beautiful practicality suited to her own personality and spirit.

I had the most fun in devising the figures of SS. Katherine and Margaret floating just over her shoulders. They are accompanied by their usual symbols of the broken spiked wheel and the trampled dragon. Their clothing repeats their story in more discrete ways. To the left, note the wheel-like braids of Katherine’s hair, her royal crown, the lily of purity repeated at a medallion at her neck, the wedding ring of her mystical espousal, even the oratorical gesture of her right hand, suited to the expert rhetorician she was. The fur edging her tunic has a cheetah’s spots, an animal (along with the panther) associated with Christ in the bestiaries and suggesting her exotic noble background, if perhaps in a roundabout mediaeval sort of way. Margaret’s own costume repeats the dragon-scales of the serpent she triumphed over, as well as the pearls associated with her own name, which expand out into a number of other marine references, such as the net covering her hair). Her belt repeats the waves of smoke and water from one stage of her martyrdom where she was thrown into a boiling cauldron without result. (Note that she has rather calmly tucked the dragon’s tail under her arm, a businesslike way of keeping the animal under control reminiscent of earlier depictions where she is shown with the animal on a leash.) Michael is shown above in the conventional manner, with his scales and the crossed stole and cope of an archpriest, a common dress for medieval angels showing their assisting role in the heavenly liturgy. Last but not least, we find overhead the words Jhesus Maria, the motto inscribed on S. Joan’s famous banner.

Seeing S. Joan for what she was, more than just a Hollywood action girl, makes for a far more compelling story: it is hard not to find something to love and learn from in this subtle, clever, prayerful and even rather earthy young woman who, while possessing great physical courage in the thick of battle, was more than just a warrior.
Posted by: Matthew / 1:15 PM

Le Fleur de Lys too: Birthday of Jehanne La Pucelle

The birthday of my favorite saint, St. Joan of ARc, was the reason Geoff and I chose this date for our marriage.  Below is a tribute to this great saint, from one of my favorite blogs, Le FLeur de Lys too, on blogger:  desc

via Le Fleur de Lys too: Birthday of Jehanne La Pucelle.

Birthday of Jehanne La Pucelle

From Maid of Heaven by the author Ben D. Kennedy

“…Joan of Arc’s birth was not officially recorded in the small town where she was born however the people of her town remembered that she was born on Epiphany, or Twelfth-night, which is January 6. The Epiphany celebrates the revelation of God in human form in the person of Jesus Christ and part of the celebration commemorates the arrival of the three “Wise Men” who were led to the baby Jesus by a star in the sky above Bethlehem. It is very significant that Saint Joan was born on Epiphany because she not only led her people to freedom in this world but she ultimately led them, and generations since, to the true freedom that is only found through Jesus Christ.
Saint Joan of Arc is truly a “brilliantly shining light” of the Kingdom of Heaven and will forever point the way to God.

Jehanne d’Arc
Born January 6, 1412
Died May 30, 1431

“It was during the night of the Epiphany that she first saw the light in this mortal life, and, wonderful to relate, the poor inhabitants of the place were seized with an inconceivable joy. Still uninformed of the birth of the Maid, they ran one to the other, enquiring what new thing had happened. For some, it was a cause of fresh rejoicing. What can one add? The cocks, as heralds of the happy news, crowed in a way that had never been heard before, beating their bodies with their wings; continuing for two hours to prophesy this new event.”
–Lord Perceval de Boulanivilliers, writing to the Duke of Milan about Joan’s birth.

Saint Joan was born in Domremy, a little village in a part of Eastern France known as Lorraine. At her trial of rehabilitation several of the people from Domremy remembered her birth and childhood in the following ways:

“From my childhood I knew Joan the Maid who was born at Domremy to Jacques d’Arc and Isabelle, husband and wife, honest and decent farmers and true Catholics of good repute. I know this because I was often in company with Joan, and being her friend I went to her father’s house… Joan was a good, simple and sweet-natured girl, she went often and of her own will to church and the sacred places and often she was ashamed because of people remarking how she went so devoutly to church. I have heard the priest who was there in her time say that she often came to confession. Joan busied herself like any other girl; she did the housework and spun and sometimes, I have seen her, she kept her father’s flocks.” Hauviette – childhood friend of Joan

“Jeannette, whom this concerns, was born at Domremy and baptized at the Church of St. Remy, a parish of that place. Her father was called Jacques d’Arc and her mother Isabelle, farmers, during their lifetime, at Domremy. From what I saw and knew they were faithful Catholics and hard workers, of good repute and decent conversation, according to their condition; for several times I spoke with them. I was myself one of Jeanne’s godfathers… Jeannette in earliest youth, was well and properly brought up in the faith and good conduct and so much so that nearly all the inhabitants of Domremy loved her…” Jean Morea – farmer who knew Joan as a child

“Joan was of my wife Jeanne’s kinsfolk. I knew Jacques d’Arc and Isabelle well, the parents of Joan the Maid, good and true Catholics, and of good repute, and I believe that Joan was born in the town of Domremy and that she was baptized at the font of St. Remy in that town. Joan was of good behavior, devout, patient, going readily to church, willingly to confession, and gave alms to the poor when she could, as I witnessed, both in the town of Domremy and at Burey, at my house, where Joan resided during a period of six weeks. Willingly did she work, spinning, ploughing, keeping the cattle, and did other work suitable for women.” Durand Laxart – Joan’s uncle

“Joan the Maid, in the time of her youth until she left her father’s house, was a good, chaste and simple girl, modest in manner, taking not the name of God nor of His saints in vain, fearing God. She went frequently to church and frequently confessed. The cause of my knowing this is that I was, in those days, churchwarden at the church of Domremy and often did I see Joan come to church, to Mass and to Compline. And when I did not ring the bells for Compline, Joan would catch me and scold me, saying that I had not done well; and she even promised to give me some wool if I would be punctual in ringing for Compline…” Perrin Drappier – churchwarden of Domremy in Joan’s childhood

“I was brought up with Joan the Maid next door to her father’s house. I know that she was good, simple, pious, fearing God and his saints; she went often and of her own will to church and to sacred places, caring for the sick and giving alms to the poor; this I saw myself, for when I was a child I myself was sick and Joan came to comfort me…” Simonin Musnier – farmer and childhood friend of Joan

More on la Pucelle may be found here, here, here, here,and here… or by typing in the word Jehanne in my search area.

Catherine Delors has a view of Jehanne which is from a french stand point, here… it will direct you to another blog as well in true blogger style, Tea at Trianon….here.

A special tip of the beret to Ben Kennedy.

Jhesu+Marie,*
Brantigny

Jhesu maria was placed on her banner specifically to Praise Jesus and Mary and so I use it here.