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Do We Need A New Christian Symbolism in Art – Aren’t Pelicans and Peacocks Redundant?

Should we resurrect the old Christian symbolism? Or are pelicans and peacocks just nonesense, like cabbages and kings.

Is there a danger that trying to reestablish traditional Christian symbols in art would sow confusion rather that clarity? Lots of talks and articles about traditional Christian art I see discuss the symbolism of the iconographic content; for example, the meaning of the acacia bush (the immortality of the soul) or the peacock (again, immortality). This is useful if we have a printed (or perhaps for a few of you an original) Old Master in church or a prayer corner as it will enhance our prayer life when contemplating the image. But is this something that we ought to be aiming to reinstate the same symbolism in what we produce today?

Should we seek to educate artists to include this symbolic language in their art?
If symbols are meant to communicate and clarify, they should be readily understood by those who see them. This might have been the case when they were introduced – very likely they reflected aspects of the culture at the time – and afterwards when the tradition was still living and so knowledge of this was handed on. But for most it isn’t true now. How many would recognize the characteristics of an acacia bush, never mind what it symbolizes? If you ask someone today who has not been educated in traditional Christian symbolism in art what the peacock means, my guess is that they are more likely to suggest pride, referring to the expression, ‘as proud as peacock’.

So the use of the peacock would not clarify, in fact it would do worse than mystify, it might actually mislead. (The reason for the use of the peacock as a symbol of immortality, as I understand it, is the ancient belief that its flesh was incorruptible). So to reestablish this sign language would be a huge task. We would not only have to educate the artists, but also educate everyone for whom the art was intended to read the symbolism. If this is the case, why bother at all, it doesn’t seem to helping very much, and in the end it will always exclude those who are not part of the cognoscenti . This is exactly the opposite of what is desired: for the greater number, it would not draw them into contemplation of the Truth, but push them out. I think that the answer is that some symbols are worth persevering with, and some should be abandoned. First, it is part of our nature to ‘read’ invisible truths through what is visible. This does not only apply to painting. The whole of Creation is made by God as an outward ‘sign’ that points to something beyond itself to Him, the Creator. Blessed John Henry Newman put it in his sermon Nature and Supernature as follows: “The visible world is the instrument, yet the veil, of the world invisible – the veil, yet still partially the symbol and index; so that all that exists or happens visibly, conceals and yet suggests, and above all subserves, a system of persons, facts, and events beyond itself.” It is important to both to make use of this faculty that exists in us for just this purpose; and to develop it, increasing our instincts for reading the book of nature and in turn, our faith. So the Cardinal bird might be good new introduction to the religous symbolism of the Church and not just the State of Indiana! It’s red plumage, which is similar to that of the cardinal gave it its name, but I’m not aware of it being used as a symbol of the Cardinal in religious painting.

cardim
However, coming back to the context of art again, some discernment should be used, I suggest. I would not be in favour of creating an arbitrarily self-consistent symbolism. The symbol must be rooted in truth. The symbolism in the iconographic tradition is very good at following this principle. This is best illustrated by considering the example of the halo. This is very well known as the symbol of sanctity in sacred art. There are very good reasons for this. The golden disc is a stylized representation of a glow of uncreated, divine light, shining out of the person. Even if this were not already a widely known symbol, it would be worth educating people about the meaning of it, because in doing so something more is revealed.

When however, the representation of a halo develops into a disc floating above the head of the saint, as in Cosme Tura’s St Jerome, or even a hoop, as in Annibale Caracci’s Dead Christ Mourned, (both shown, above and below) then it seems to me that the symbol has become detached from its root. Neither could be seen as a representation of uncreated light. These latter two forms, therefore, should be discouraged.

Similarly, those symbols that are rooted in the gospels or in the actual lives of the saints should be encouraged and the effort should be made, I think, to preserve or, if necessary, reestablish them. The tongs and coal of the prophet Isaias relate to the biblical accounts of his life. The inclusion of these, will generate a healthy curiosity in those who don’t know it, and so might direct them to investigate scripture. The picture shown, is one of my own icons.

In contrast consider the peacock and the pelican. The peacock, as already mentioned, does not, we now know, have incorruptible flesh. The pelican is a symbol of the Eucharist based upon the erroneous belief in former times that pelicans feed their young with their own flesh. My first though is that these symbols should not be used should not be used, because the reason for their symbolism in invalid, given that we no longer believe it to be true. However, I will admit that I am torn by the fact that both of these are beautiful and striking images, even if based in myth. Also, it might be argued, and this is particularly true for the pelican, that to use it is not resurrecting an obscure medieval symbol. It is an ancient symbol certainly – and St Thomas Aquinas’s hymn to the Eucharist, Adore te devote called Christ the ‘pelican of mercy’. But it lasted well beyond that. It was very widely understood even 50 years ago. Awareness of it is still common nowadays amongst those who are interested in liturgy and sacred art. Perhaps an argument could be made that even when the reason for the use of symbol is based in myth, if that is known and understood, and when that symbol recognition is still widespread enough to be considered part of the tradition, it should be retained. We should also remember that modern science is not infallible, and we moderns could be those who are mistaken about the pelican! My Googling research (admittedly even less reliable than modern science) revealed that the coat of arms of Cardinal George Pell has the image of the pelican. If this is so, I imagine he would have something to say about the issue also!

A baroque period (17th century) tabernacle door

6 Comments Post a comment
  1. The symbol of the pelican is used on the altar of my local church (built 1888). It is such a weird image (to modern eyes) that any curious person would be driven to find out more, which I indeed was. So I think that these symbols can be useful in that way but it does require a degree of curiosity to work. Your point about the mis-reading of symbols (proud as a peacock) is a good one though. Perhaps curiosity about why pride should be associated with a particular image would prompt further investigation…

    Like

    September 3, 2016
    • David Clayton #

      Thank you Sarah. i think your right that veiling can be used to reveal truth. I do wonder though if my other point ought to be taken into account – that symbols ought to be rooted in truth, and not just arbitrarily assigned connections ie just randomly saying ‘when you see X it means Y’. Because the symbol of the pelican is rooted in a false perception of how a pelican feeds its young, it ends up giving the impression to modern people that we are superstitious and confirming their prejudices. Someone pointed out to me that St Augustine warned agains this sort of thing 1500 years ago.

      Like

      September 3, 2016
      • I will bear that in mind, thank you.

        Like

        September 4, 2016
  2. Having a rich history, some folklore intertwined, isn’t necessarily a bad thing in this age. We are so entirely unhinged from family and culture, with an attention span of gnats. Many people are drawn to what stands in contrast to that twitchy twitter-fed society.
    Art is often poetry – it’s not x=x, cameras do that infinitely better. If sufficiently inspired, an artist will use established symbolism and what novel things come to his mind to create a language. The best example of that I’ve seen is the murals of Maxo Vanka.

    Also, a halo isn’t just a symbol of “glowing light”, the circle shape itself represents eternity and perfection — they were in use in pagan art long before to depict divine and preternatural individuals — so even when tilted or as rings, the circle stands as a “perfect” shape denoting contact with the divine or divinity.

    🙂

    Like

    September 7, 2016
  3. The halo I think originated in the observable “aura” of electromagnetic energy which one can observe around human beings when the viewing conditions are right. Sometimes when a priest is delivering a particularly forgettable sermon I maintain my wrapt attention to him by concentrating on the edge of blue or yellow light edging his figure. Look for it, you can see it. I think it helps if you have a touch of astigmatism.

    Like

    December 8, 2016

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