The fluctuation between realism and symbolism is best seen in the evolution of art from the 13th to 16th century, where representations of the sacred shift from simple didactic images to expressive and humanised figural representations. With this shift, artists began to portray the non-physical as something that belonged to the human realm, disregarding the strength of the medieval image, which is born from the word and made symbol. The 14th century was unconsciously birthing the spoiled child that is humanism, with events that fell like trees unseen in a forest. The Italian Renaissance built Corinthian capitals engraved with the values of a new era: harmony, reason, clarity, skepticism; with the central interest being humanity, the individual as citizen, and the world through his eyes. “It has been said that medieval thinkers philosophised on their knees, but, bolstered by the new studies, they dared to stand up and to rise to full stature.”
This world view, nostalgic with ideas of antiquity, rejected its medieval “shortcomings” and charged towards a new visual language, which by the late Renaissance, would increasingly tend towards realism. In the context of Christian visual art, the attention shifted towards more figural and dramatic representations of biblical scenes. The flat, symbolic, and at times expressionless images seen in medieval altars would now be substituted by large and anatomically precise figures with evocative expressions. For instance, Christs passion is no longer represented by stamp-like illustrations of the tools they used to torture him, but rather as a muscular white man with an agonic glare. This new image appeals to the human realm because it imitates it. Of course our empathy is ignited, but the specificities of scripture are lost.
These instruments of Christ’s passion (nails, hammers, ladder, spear, etc.), as many objects within the Christian tradition, aren’t inconsequential descriptions or “fillers.” They had been revered for centuries as emblems of the earthly and spiritual victory of Christ, with sanctifying and redeeming powers both as relics and images. The simple depictions of these tools are far from elemental or dry; they granted the medieval viewer an understanding of complex doctrines that demanded previous rational understanding before triggering emotion. Here lies the question, present in approaches to art and faith to this day: does an immediate emotional hook draw us nearer to meaning and truth, or are depth and awe only authentic after rational understanding?
Photo by The Metropolitan Museum of Art on Unsplash
