First our painting, and this week we have The Resurrection, by Piero della Francesca, one of the most recognizable depictions of the Resurrection in western art - famously described by Aldous Huxley as 'the greatest painting in the world' - and certainly a most enigmatic composition.
The starting point of the composition is the Medieval image of the risen Christ standing on the tomb, surrounded by Roman guards. This image emerged specifically in Western art around the eleventh century and by way of illustration we have an image from a Sarum missal from the 13th Century (for details see here).
Returning to our painting, maybe the most curious feature is the double perspective - both the center of the tomb and the face of Jesus form vanishing points - as if we are seeing two incompatible scenes, one earthy, the other divine being forced destructively together. In the upper scene there is another division - left to right: the scene of desolation becoming one of springtime, the figure of Christ Himself representing the renewal of the Earth, and incorporating a redemptive aspect to the scene more typical in Eastern depictions, more on this below.
Turning to the figure of Christ we find the same contrast and boundaries producing strange anomalies - the figure itself is strong, muscular, but still bleeding. He has a halo, but also wears a ragged beard. We can contemplate His banner - with the cross of divine victory (also associated with St George) or His pink robe, the colour of union in marriage, of celebration, joy and hope.
For more on the details of this composition, there is a great sermon here.
Now, onto our icon. The possibilities for studying and discussing icons is vast, and I admit to knowing pretty much nothing about their study. I'll try and suggest a few words by way of background but for to delve into the language of the symbolism and to start to unravel some of the layers of meaning in an icon I recommend a look around this blog.
Before we get onto the icon proper there is one obvious thing to say, namely, this is not maybe the image that comes to western minds when they think of the Resurrection. The image that at least first came to mine was more closely captured by the great Renaissance, painting above, and coming from the medieval dramatization that we discussed above.
The Eastern tradition however, as well as other medieval depictions it influenced, place a rather different emphasis on what is taken to be meant by the Resurrection event. From this perspective the Resurrection is a cosmic event - less an isolated historical event, than the (somewhat more mystical) conquest of death itself. Resurrection then refers not only to the physical resurrection of Christ, but of humanity - which takes the foreground as Christ dramatically lifts Adam and Eve from their sepulchers.
Indeed, returning to the icon at hand, we see immediately the peculiar posture Christ adopts - it is a dramatic moment and, for all the variation in the icons of this event, common to them is this sense of exertion, Christ literally pulling mankind from its prison.
Symbols as one might expect come thick and fast - for instance the cross formed by the broken gates of hell, capturing the inversion of the role of the instrument of Christ's death. Or we could study Christ's white robes and rays of God's glory bursting out of the dark colors that often surround him in icons - representing His unknowable and mysterious nature (comparably to icons of the transfiguration for example).
Naturally these two representations, the medieval dramatization and the image of cosmic redemption do not cover the full story of the history of Resurrection art, but have maybe become two central themes. One other aspect I wanted to mention briefly, is in fact one of the most ancient. In both images the 'three Marys' or 'Myrrhbearers' have been lost - but images of them at the empty tomb appear in the very earliest depictions of the Resurrection, going back to the 5th Century and still forms one of the an important type of Resurrection icon.
They also appear in Western art, particularly earlier art, but now in the 'Do not touch me' (Noli me Tangere) scene, which has curiously enough found its way back into eastern iconography. I've included both Giotto's 14th Century depiction and one of the eleventh century Bamberg Apocalypse.
Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God.
(John 20:17)
