Perhaps it was inevitable. The technology has been in place for decades. It was only a matter of time before the sacred art of the icon became an inexpensive do-it-yourself room makeover. For those of us who support sacred arts through training iconographers and encouraging high quality work crafted from noble materials for our churches and homes, the creation and dissemination of icon wallpaper is a cause for mourning.
Fresco of angel in St. Sophia Cathedral, Vologda
We recently received an advert email for “Priests and Wardens” that touted the benefits of a process for manufacturing “images that go on your church walls like wallpaper. MUCH cheaper than real frescoes!”
We were even warned “there is an ‘imposter’ out there using cheaper materials, so be careful!”
Imagine, an “imposter” of the “MUCH cheaper than real.” Really?
There is a story told about Henry Ford that comes to mind. You remember the businessman from Detroit who made it affordable for just about everyone to own an automobile. After the inventor of assembly-line production amassed so much wealth he didn’t know what to do with it, his financial advisors suggested he invest in fine art. But the acquisitive Ford was taken aback by the sticker price on the art pieces brought before him. So, he ordered photographs to be taken of the art and the paper copies placed in fancy frames to hang throughout his mansion[s]. The idea caught on and the art reproduction business was launched. Once again Ford had succeeded in finding a way to make something of value accessible to the masses. Now, everyone can own a Rembrandt that is “MUCH cheaper than real” because it isn’t.
Ford’s ingenuity worked well for auto assembly and we are thankful for it, but aping his thrift in artificial art production (whether high-end imposter or low) is a tragedy for iconography. Ironically, no one has ever argued that the artificial imitation of fine art works is real. That argument seems to be reserved for the sacred rather than the secular.
We were further told, “This method of displaying beautiful iconography has been blessed by Bishops and supported by priests all over the world.” Of this there is no doubt. But let us consider the inspiration for and the consequences of such blessings.
The argument for the artificial, with only a few laymen to oppose it, rests upon defunding the artist and capitalizing on his or her work, made easy because icons are rarely copyrighted. This was Ford’s inspiration. Although he could easily afford a Cézanne, Ford placed a higher value on a paltry imitation because it served the purpose of providing decorations without paying big bucks for the real thing. While this is hardly the reasoning of bishops, priests and parish councils trying to adorn temples out of their penury, the effect is the same.
Since costly items of infrastructure cannot be substituted with photographs of furnaces, plumbing and electrical systems just because the parish can’t afford them, the “blessing” seems to indicate that the more essential elements of Orthodox worship can be illusory. The implication is that icons are merely decorative accessories like, well – wallpaper. A similar mentality reigns for individuals who shell out $1500 to $3000 on a widescreen plasma TV without batting an eye, but are only willing to spend twenty bucks on a photograph of the Sinai Christ glued to a piece of particleboard.
Fresco by Dionisy in Ferpontov Monastery
As our email advertiser educates us: “Images are representations. The medium used does not play a role in the validity of the object/person being represented.”
Thanks, Henry!
Of course Orthodoxy does not [officially] consider icons as decoration. But this does not mean that Orthodoxy, which takes its very appellation from the victory over iconoclasm, is immune to iconoclasm manifest in new forms.
Consider the words of renowned Russian iconographer Archimandrite Zinon:
“In speaking about the icon, one could say that today it does not occupy its rightful place in the divine service, nor is there a proper attitude towards iconography. It has long ceased to be regarded as “theology in color”; people don’t even suspect that it is capable of conveying the teaching of the Church just like the word, and that it can likewise give false witness instead of witnessing to the Truth. The icon has become a mere illustration of the celebrated event, and for this reason it doesn’t matter what form it takes, because nowadays even photographs are venerated as icons.”
“A mere illustration of the celebrated event” sounds a lot like our email advertiser of wallpaper bargains.
And then there are the “weeping paper icons“ so invincibly offered as proof that “themedium used does not play a role.“ We can talk all day long about the meaning of dripping photographic paper, and bishops, priests and monks do, regardless of what is at stake. In this strange twist of anti-materialistic logic the lesson gleaned seems not to be miraculous intervention but that we can replace the holy icons with a soulless materialism that merely illustrates what an icon is.
In photographic illustrations of icons, real gold becomes an RGB algorithm as do the other noble metals and semi-precious stones of the iconographer’s palette. The image is pixilated but the icon is absent. The prayerful dialogue between God and the human hand, between the bounty of the created world and its divine source are annihilated in the toxic vapors of print production.
Romantic, are we? Or are we simply defending the integrity of the icon against its falsification? Mounted photographs of icons may have a place in Orthodoxy, something akin to sturdy teaching tools for Church School children or illustrations for events, but in no way should they be permanently incorporated into our worship services.
As a succinct articulation of a profound objection to the faux-fresco industry and its like, we re-post here excerpts from an interview presented in a 2010 Hexaemeron Newsletter. The full article on Liturgical Renewal printed in Orthodox America explains among other things why “colored photograph is unacceptable for use in church” as are other forms of imitation such as artificial flowers. It is regrettable that the remarks below may be treated as obsolete fetishes of fanatics rather than guiding principles. This is obviously because our priorities have become more aligned with Henry Ford’s than we could ever have imagined. Under communism the icon was threatened with violence; under capitalism with banality. God help us!
This discussion occurred in 1990 between Archimandrite Victor, rector of St. Euphrosyne of Polotsk Church in Karsava, Latvia and Archimandrite Zinon, who was then serving as an iconographer of the Pskov-Caves Monastery. It speaks directly to the misleading mixing of terms in the statement “the medium used does not play a role in the validity of the object/person being represented.” The self-deception imbedded in this bold claim is that it confuses the “validity“ of the immutable and transcendent prototype (person) with how the prototype is “represented.” Attend closely to why the materials used to represent divine presence DO play a role in every image that serves as an encounter between God and man, be it the vestments of the clergy or the flowers we bring to express our love for our Savior’s accomplishments upon the Cross.
Fr. Zinon: In the Moscow Patriarchate Journal, 1989, No. 10, there is an article by L. A. Ouspensky about colors in icons. It explains very simply and convincingly why a colored photograph is unacceptable for use in church: it only imitates color; it has no color of its own. For this reason it cannot serve as a substitute for a painted icon. An icon must witness to the Truth, and here we introduce something false, artificial; this cannot be.
Fr. Victor: This is the same as having artificial flowers in church. Patriarch Alexis I asked that they not be brought into church, because there is no truth in them.
Fr. Zinon: Even earlier, Metropolitan Philaret (Drozdov) of Moscow said that imitation gems and imitation metals should not be used in church not because they are not costly but because they contain falsehood. Gold was always costly; where it was unattainable, ordinary but natural materials were used. For example, the traditional background for icons has always been gold leaf (or silver). In poor churches, especially in northern Russia, all backgrounds were painted with light colors. To be more precise, “background” is not a Russian word; iconographers call it “light”.
Fr. Victor: Because God is light.
Fr. Zinon: And lives in unapproachable light.
Fr. Victor: One can say that nowadays we see a decline in religious understanding; the dogma of icon veneration has been forgotten, supplanted with the veneration of artificiality. And this is not simply forgetfulness, but rather a rupture with the living Tradition of the Church, a scornful attitude towards the Holy Fathers and to the decrees of the Ecumenical and Local Councils. One must restore the veneration of icons in its genuine significance.
Fr. Zinon: This problem must be resolved at the Synod level; it should be a matter for the whole Church. Today churches are being returned to us, monasteries. They all require iconographers, but so far there isn’t a proper school for iconographers. I know many young people, talented and eager to study, but the means for this are lacking. Some are tied to families and can’t travel far, others are free but have nowhere to study. Our hierarchs have made efforts to increase the number of clergy: diocesan schools are opening, there are courses for readers, seminaries. But I have yet to hear of any school, even a small one, for iconographers. And this despite the fact that almost every week someone comes to me with a request to paint an iconostasis or fresco a church. Here is further evidence that the icon has been eliminated from the divine services; it is no longer given due attention. What is sold in church kiosks, the mass reproductions produced in the shops of the Moscow Patriarchate, do not comply with the requirements applied to church art.
In the Synodal period there appeared many depictions, which can plainly be called mockeries, parodies of icons. Last time I gave you to read some letters by Bishop Ignaty Brianchaninov. In one of them he writes that he saw not icons, but caricatures of icons. At best these could be called well-executed paintings, but by no means icons. This was written in the last century, when churches were filled with this sort of art and the Orthodox icon was branded as “Old-Believer” or barbaric art. (The well-known historian, Karamzin, seeing the ancient frescoes in Novgorod’s St. Sophia Cathedral, called them “barbarian”.)
Fr. Victor: L. A. Ouspensky, in his book, The Theology of the Orthodox Icon, accurately observes that in the iconoclast period the Church fought on behalf of the icon, while in our time of troubles the icon is battling for the Church.
Magi fresco, St. Sophia Cathedral -Vologda
As a non-profit organization dedicated to the sacred art of the icon, we see the other side with a clarity that transcends competition for market share among wallpaper imposters. Our students sacrifice not only thousands of dollars in pocket layout to study the theological and aesthetic goals of the ancient tradition that have been organically transmitted from the first icons painted on the walls of martyrs tombs, but they also offer up hundreds of hours of time away from their families and their employment to prepare themselves to serve God’s Holy Church with hard acquired skills and knowledge of temple adornment.
The reality from the other side is that even the best-trained iconographers are often passed over for “MUCH cheaper” amateurs, or they are asked by priests and bishops to donate their work. Many, many gladly do so out of willingness to serve, but at the expense of the tradition that should support them. All this haggling over not wanting to remunerate real iconographers at the rate of legal minimum wage is destroying the future of iconography everywhere. If, as our e-mailer suggests, priests and wardens turn to the “cheaper than real” catalog for adorning their temples, there will no longer be a need for icon painters. And just as every office and hospital wall is mounted with an artificial Degas or Cassatt, so will every temple have a cheap photograph of the Rublev Trinity smoothed large on drywall surfaces “like wallpaper.”
This glimpse into the realities of practicing iconographers is portrayed here in mere economic terms as a flip side of the Ford mentality troubling our parishes, but the greater issue of artificiality is as Fr. Zinon says, “a matter for the whole Church” to resolve.
Mary Lowell
HEXAEMERON 
44 comments
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April 11, 2012 at 12:57 pm
hexaemeron
April 12, 2012 at 9:12 pm
Tom
This post contains lots of emotional rhetoric, but it doesn’t get to the core of the issue, which is the nature of images in an image-saturated society, and how we interact with them.
Lesser materials, such as fake gems and fake gold, obviously look fake to the naked eye to anyone with even a modicum of experience with these materials. But with new printing technology one cannot tell the difference between the painted icon and the printed. The image perceived by the viewer is exactly the same. And therefore, the relationship achieved by the viewer with the archetype of that icon is the same.
It’s sad that in an image-saturated world, those who are trained in creating those images will find the demand for their work waning. But I don’t believe that compelling the Church to ban printed images (and thereby artificially impede supply) will solve the problem.
Until you can successfully argue that the *images* produced by paint or by extremely dense, high quality printing are *substantively* different, then I call BS. And no, quoting canons from a period when wood-block prints were cutting edge technology will not suffice as a response.
April 12, 2012 at 9:39 pm
hexaemeron
Dear Tom, thank you for your response. We will have to give your remarks a lot of thought. It is unclear for the moment how to respond to someone who “cannot tell the difference between the painted icon and the printed.”
Blessed Holy Thursday to you!
May 8, 2012 at 12:36 pm
pbadams
Dear Tom,
You say “But with new printing technology one cannot tell the difference between the painted icon and the printed. The image perceived by the viewer is exactly the same.” Not so. Not by a long shot.
I am a painter (not an iconographer) and simply from the standpoint of ‘material’, this is an invalid assertion. No amount of technology can recreate the subtlety and nuance of a hand-painted surface. A hand-painted surface is infinitely (literally) variable. It is dimensional (even what we consider as 2-D, if made by hand, has 3-D properties). The paint medium contains many irregularities and ‘imperfections’ (the pigments–ground minerals that are themselves infinitely varied as well–are suspended in a viscous medium that also has physical properties) that contribute to its unique and unrepeatable physical characteristics. When light reacts with these manifold and unpredictably varied properties, a certain, and unique radiance occurs that is not in any way susceptible to reproduction.
Therefore (and I’m barely scratching the surface here), to suggest that one “cannot tell the difference” only serves to underline our perceptual poverty, inattentiveness, and laziness in all matters. These same ailments will certainly be found in approach to all forms of truth, of which the icon is an integral part. Our Orthodox faith, more than any other, is bound to the reality of God’s Incarnation–the absolutely unique, unrepeatable, and real-time physicality of the person of a certain Jesus from Nazareth. This same Jesus gave us the Gospel, which holds as inviolable the absolute uniqueness of the image of God in each human person.
Just as in my description of the way in which light reacts uniquely with the hand-painted surface of the icon, so to the light of Christ (and this is no mere metaphor!) reacts uniquely with each of those created in his image. That the images which we hold so dear should have these same qualities of uniqueness should go without saying. I would urge you to examine closely the claims of Orthodoxy to the transcendence of matter by way of the immanence of God (that is, matter is transcendent precisely because of God’s presence in his creation). It is not that reproductions have no value, because they do. They can serve a purpose–but only as a simulacrum that is second-best and impoverished by its very nature. What I’m concerned with is your willingness to equate them based only on your inability to “tell the difference”. Isn’t this the kind of thinking that the Devil uses so well to his advantage?
May 9, 2012 at 12:52 am
Tom
I never supposed that discussing images abstractly would lead to my thinking being compared to Satan’s.
May 9, 2012 at 1:54 pm
pbadams
Tom,
I think we both know that I was not comparing your thinking to Satan’s…but, to be clear, just in case you really thought that’s what I said, the point I was making is that when we slide into a complacent attitude toward truth, whether regarding icons, christology, sacraments, whatever, we become easy prey for Satan’s ‘near-truths’. He doesn’t lead us astray with blatant lies (well, sometimes he does), but usually by slight deviations from the truth. This whole question revolves not around–as many seem to want to keep saying–whether we can worship God with reproduction icons, but what, in our temples dedicated to the truth of God’s kingdom, is actually APPROPRIATE to the worship of God. If second best is the best we can do, then maybe it’s okay–for a while. The problem is that isn’t why we choose reproductions over the real thing. The reason we choose them is BECAUSE THEY ARE CHEAPER. It’s because we don’t see the sacrifice of our precious money as being worth it when we can get something that looks ‘like the real thing’ for a lot less. We’re just cheap. We don’t like paying an iconographer for something that we can get cheaper elsewhere. It’s not that we can’t afford real icons, we have simply lost our connection to real things–they just don’t matter that much to us anymore. Our church parking lot is full of expensive cars, but when it came time to pay our iconographer these same parishioners balked at the price (the total price of her icons was less than the price of no more than one or two of those cars in the parking lot). Again, it’s not that we need the copies, it’s that we’re cheap. We’ve lost the will to even care, we don’t “see the difference.” I’m sure, to save money, God, in his glorious kingdom, will use cheaper materials on the New Jerusalem in the name of ‘good stewardship’ of his resources. Enjoy your vinyl-clad mansion.
May 9, 2012 at 7:32 pm
Tom
pbadams,
“What I’m concerned with is your willingness to equate them based only on your inability to “tell the difference”. Isn’t this the kind of thinking that the Devil uses so well to his advantage?”
This is comparing my thinking to the devil’s. This is what you said.
You say this after attacking my aesthetic abilities. Please. We’re not talking about aesthetics, we’re talking about the role of images in the mind and soul of the viewer. And yes indeed, from a distance your average viewer can not tell the difference between a reproduction or hand-drawn icon. That saint is a saint whether he has a gilded halo or not. And the prayers to that saint are JUST as valid as the prayers to the most beautiful and expensively created icon.
I’ve got no problem with offering “the best” to God in a temple. I’ve already commented as such.
What I refuse to admit is the pious drivel that believes that superior materials in an icon leads to better devotion or better prayer. Icons are *only* icons because they show an image that points to their archetype. Would it be wonderful if everyone could have an array of hand-drawn icons in their homes? Of course. But it’s not possible for the vast majority of people, and I refuse to denigrate the power of their prayers because they don’t have the “best” icons.
I mean, let’s get down to brass tacks and cui bono — iconographers have a huge interest in attacking reproduction icons. I probably would look at them with disdain too, if I thought my livelihood were at stake. That’s what this whole post is about, really, isn’t it? It’s about financial self-interest.
What is being exhibited in this post and comments is a very strange veneration for the “purest” of materials. Is it good to use the best for God? Absolutely. But it’s excessive to claim that it’s absolutely necessary. And it’s ridiculous to claim that a better icon is somehow spiritually superior. It’s ridiculous, and frankly insulting to those of us who have no way to afford an expensive icon.
“I’m sure, to save money, God, in his glorious kingdom, will use cheaper materials on the New Jerusalem in the name of ‘good stewardship’ of his resources. Enjoy your vinyl-clad mansion.”
I have a question — do all artists use excessive, stupid and insulting rhetoric that is irrelevant to the topic being discussed, or is it just something you’re talented at?
April 13, 2012 at 3:09 am
John Willard
St John of Damascus said that when two sticks were bound together in the shape of the Cross, he venerated them as a symbol of his salvation. But when they were broken apart he cast them on the pile with the other kindling.
Obviously if we can, we ought to buy hand painted icons. But it is unrealistic to insist that every icon be handmade. And just as two twigs bound together becomes a symbol of salvation, so a piece of paper that bears the Lord’s image is just as much an icon as the Christ of Sinai. The icon is holy because of what it represents, not because it is made of certain substances.
April 13, 2012 at 4:14 am
hexaemeron
Thank you, John, I understand your point, symbol is symbol, and an arrangement sticks can make a statement. So can photographs. This is a thoughtful reply to our objections to the imitation of icons.
Tonight, however, during Holy Thursday services of the Twelve Gospel readings by candle light, the whole nave glistened with the reflected light of gold emanating from the massive icon ensemble of the Crucifixion narratives, as well as from the hundreds of other images wrapping the worshipers in the glory communicated to us through the most perfect earthly substances to “represent” the majesty of our salvation. Even in near darkness, the Holy Icons shone forth to us. If merely dead print representations of that glory suffice, we may learn something about the circumstances of these events in our salvation by way of illustration, as we do from video clips, but we cannot behold their glory except as an illustration. The use of print facsimiles to substitute for icons is like playing a recording of the liturgical dialogue between God and worshipers.
April 13, 2012 at 9:19 pm
Tim Bubb (@tbubb1)
What if we had a mechanical printer that was capable of printing in egg tempura and gold leaf?
I’m going to be pondering this post for a while–it was a great read. But I must say that it initially comes off as an issue of taste, and not of theology. Are you familiar with Benjamin’s notion of “the aura,” as discussed in his, “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction?” How do you feel this compares to the holy presences communicated through our icons?
April 14, 2012 at 3:39 am
hexaemeron
I don’t know the reference, but will explore. Thank you, Tim. Off hand, it is obvious that your hypothetical mechanical device would only be capable of re-representing something, which is what all print reproductions do. It isn’t the quality of materials used mechanically, nor the achievement of the device in tricking the eye that makes artificial representation more or less acceptable. There is, of course, human engineering involved with creating the mechanical means of reproduction, re-representing, but it is still secondarily and parasitically dependent upon a real object . A machine cannot produce an icon, it can only imitate it, just as a pot of plastic geraniums appears to be blooming even in February. Plastic flowers may offend one person’s taste and yet be a happy expression of anothers decorating impulse. But the dispute here is much more profound than competing tastes; it is one of ontology. Iconesque wall paper eliminates the spiritual and mystical work of the Holy Spirit through the consecrated hands of the iconographer. This attitude is more deadly than the bonfires of Communism precisely because it “has been blessed by Bishops and supported by priests all over the world.”
Will jet printers will be glorified by the Church? Technology is not the issue. The church uses technology where needed for news and liturgical texts, but not to replace the human heart and hand.
April 14, 2012 at 5:51 pm
Ocean Orchestra
Reblogged this on Ocean Orchestra and commented:
This touches on something I’ve been pondering for a while. More fall-out post-modernism….
April 15, 2012 at 8:57 am
hexaemeron
To OO -The Church is always being put to the test from every fall out of every age. This one is exceedingly cunning and requires a sound defense. Another St. John the Damascus must be summons to stand against it and clearly articulate the theology of the icon, which is under attach from within Her bosom.
April 15, 2012 at 11:00 am
Jill
God can, and does, choose to manifest His grace through imperfect vessels, including “mere” printed and mounted or framed icons. The recent myrrh-streaming icons of St Nicholas of Myra, and of the Mother of God Iveron at Hawaii are good and recent examples of the inherent sanctity of any icon, be it an egg-tempera painted by a master iconographer, or a paper print mounted on plywood or board. The St Nicholas icon, which I have had the privilege of venerating, was, in fact, a “reject” from the workshops of St Issac’s Skete, because of a flaw in the mounting process. It was given away, not sold. Yet, this “faulty” icon has became a source of miracles. Indeed a “stone that the builders rejected …” It is not the material the icon is made of, but who/what is represented, and, just as importantly, HOW he/it is represented, that is important. Better a paper print with proper canonical content than a brilliantly-painted “NT Trinity” or “Angel of Blessed Silence” which fails to faithfully express Orthodox doctrine and theology. The sanctimonious tone of the article also ignores the fact that, in so many countries where Orthodoxy is not the norm, trained iconographers simply did not exist until a decade or two ago, if that. Any painted icons in the hands of the faithful, be they in their homes or churches, were invariably brought out from “the old country”. Printed icons were the only other alternative, if importing an iconographer from elsewhere was too difficult (such as from the then-Soviet Union or the Eastern Bloc) or too expensive.
April 17, 2012 at 8:08 pm
Pete
This is a ery interesting topic. I agree with the disdain for wallpaper icons in one sense, and yet I sympathize with the person or even parish that chooses between cheap and nothing or cheap and junky. I’ve seen several online discussions that have hammered at whether one need worry about the proper disposal of the Church bulletin with the icon and whether an icon desktop image on the computer can be venerated. Personally, this all seems to be leading to iconography’s removal from the person venerating it in two, opposite ways. You mention the first one about what goes into the icon (man’s heart and hand, &c.). But the other separation seems to be the removal of the faculty of veneration as honor from the image under certain rather technical circumstances.
It very much reminds me that we are not Roman Catholic in our approach. And it also reminds me that the new and old Julian Calendars both get a cloud on Sinai for the Transfiguration. There will always be better ways and worse ways to do things (like translations of Scripture, for instance…), and we should strive for the better to the extent that we know, but we shouldn’t constrict God’s power to work through the better if He so chooses to be merciful even through the worse. Still a complicated and fascinating discussion…
April 18, 2012 at 4:58 am
Jill
By making a distinction between the holiness and worthiness of veneration of an icon on the basis of what it is made of is verging on making an idol of egg-tempera and gesso. It is ascribing the worthiness of the icon to the materials it is made of, not to what or who is depicted on the icon. The invisible, unfathomable God chose to become incarnate, to become visible and tangible for the salvation of humanity. He reconciled the created with the uncreated Creator. Did not all matter become redeemed and sanctified through the Incarnation? Or are paper and ink, glue and lacquer somehow not part of this created matter which can be used to proclaim the glory of God? Our Gospel books, including those used liturgically, are no longer hand-written using parchment, quill and inks of cuttle and other “natural” pigments, but have been machine-printed for centuries, yet their veneration has never come into question. So why make this distinction for printed icons?
April 18, 2012 at 6:49 am
Jill
“Another St. John the Damascus must be summoned to stand against it and clearly articulate the theology of the icon, which is under attack from within Her bosom.”
There is no need to “summon another St John” to defend icons and “articulate the theology of the icon”. The good Saint has already spoken, and most eloquently:
“Of old, the incorporeal and uncircumscribed God was not depicted at all. But now that God has appeared in the flesh and lived among men, I make an image of the God who can be seen. I do not worship matter, but I worship the Creator of matter, who through matter effected my salvation. I will not cease to venerate the matter through which my salvation has been effected.”
This insistence on denigrating printed icons is akin to the unfortunate insistence that icons are “written”, not “painted”. This position is simply a linguistic error, yet it has been elevated to an article of faith in certain circles.
April 18, 2012 at 1:29 pm
Pete
To look at something that may have similar feelings attached to it, how would we Orthodox feel if, let’s say, prosphora began to be made totally by machines? It would be cheaper, the consistancy and stamp would always be right on the mark, and it would be available to even those missions without strong bakers. This machine-made “offering” bread would then be used for antidoron and, particularly, for consecrating at the Liturgy. The reason I see the point behind the fight against wallpaper icons is that the slope gets slippery, and I think we would have to at least contemplate where that leads us in full.
To me, what comes to mind is a child giving a parent a self-hand-crafted pencil holder for a birthday versus purchasing a mug. A mug is cheaper in the long run, is professional looking, can probably be used for more purposes, can come in different styles or colors or with printing on it, &c. But I would hope we agree that the offering of the pencil holder cannot be totally compared to the mug in all these things, because something more went into the pencil holder. Devotion? Time? Love? Or maybe the fact that it was made particularly for who it was being given to. It would be unique. I don’t know, but that’s where I see the other side, Jill. We should not make idols of particular types of matter, but we have to see the connection to person in everything about our worship. I’d love to hear more thoughts.
April 19, 2012 at 4:59 am
hexaemeron
Please forgive our much needed recess from responding due to the happy exhaustion of Pascha.
Christ is Risen!
We greatly enjoy and appreciate this dialog and intend to engage your thoughtful and reasoned comments after Bright Week.
There are many dimensions to this issue, from the action of the human hand and heart to their mechanical imitation through technology, the latter being dependent upon the first, which is not substitutable, only photographically reproduced in infinite quantities as a mimic of the tangible object.
That this secondary by-product is economically preferred has several negative consequences for the future of iconography, unless we are content with artifacts endlessly imitated by jet-printers.
Why train iconographers to enter into the tradition protected with the shedding of blood if the Church is satisfied to wallpaper Her microcosm of the universe with photographs of the witness of salvation produced by loving human hands?
And still, there is a greater concern. As one who grieves over the plastic flowers spread around the nave at Pascha, I marvel at the statement, “The medium used does not play a role in the validity of the object/person being represented.”
How can this honestly be taken seriously? Plastic flowers have no scent and delicate intricacy of a living being. Photographs of icons are dead parodies of the majestic conversation between God and mankind.
April 19, 2012 at 1:11 pm
Jill
“Why train iconographers to enter into the tradition protected with the shedding of blood if the Church is satisfied to wallpaper Her microcosm of the universe with photographs of the witness of salvation produced by loving human hands? ”
At no stage have I even hinted, much less stated, that hand-painted icons are superfluous, nor that there is no longer any need for the training of iconographers. What I have emphasized is the equal status of printed icons with painted icons, and the necessity of both for their compositions to conform to the doctrinal integrity of the Orthodox Church. I have pointed out several reasons for the existence and perpetuation of printed icons, which hexaemeron has yet to address. I ask again: does hexaemeron regard mechanically printed liturgical Gospel books with machine-tooled covers worthy of veneration by clergy and laity? If yes, why? If yes, then why make the distinction between painted and printed icons?
“As one who grieves over the plastic flowers spread around the nave at Pascha, I marvel at the statement, ”The medium used does not play a role in the validity of the object/person being represented.”
I fully agree that artificial flowers have no place anywhere in a church. However, flowers are a red herring in this discussion. Flowers are brought as an offering to church, and are purely decorative. They are not, and never have been, objects of veneration, much less expressions of the Incarnation of God, which icons are, at their core and essence.
April 19, 2012 at 11:53 pm
Fr Jonah Campbell
@Jill: Excellent reply, just excellent.
April 20, 2012 at 4:17 am
hexaemeron
We have already answered your reasoning within the structure of the article itself and in subsequent responses to comments on the article.
The discussion between Frs. Victor and Zinon is offered as the framework for positing that imitation is unacceptable for use in our temples because it introduces a “falsehood.” As Fr. Z states concerning the proliferation of the souvenir trade in photocopies of icons, “What is sold in church kiosks, the mass reproductions produced in the shops of the Moscow Patriarchate, do not comply with the requirements applied to church art. ”
To demonstrate this important objection to artificiality, the two fathers make a comparison with the use of imitation gems and flowers. To say that fake rubies and lilies are of a different order than digitalized subjects because we do not venerate these objects is to neglect our piety that these things are also icons of the Kingdom, of the glory of the transfigured world. And in that sense the reality and intent are the same. Moses received and executed the God revealed command on how to construct the ark and tented temple with all order of precious materials meet to reflect His glory.
At root of the issue is the question, what the icon?
April 20, 2012 at 8:19 am
Jill
The matter of mechanically-printed liturgical Gospels with machine-tooled covers has not been addressed. I would add to this false dichotomy of worthiness of veneration the use of synthetic yarns and machine embroidery of plashchanitsy, which are venerated as icons when placed on the structure representing the tomb of Christ during the latter days of Holy Week. I ask yet again: would you regard these items as not worthy of veneration? Would Frs Victor and Zinon? Indeed, it would be most interesting, and telling, to find out whether the liturgical Gospel and plashchanitsa in the church Frs Victor and Zinon are associated with are fully hand-made, and made entirely of natural materials.
April 20, 2012 at 1:06 pm
hexaemeron
How ironic! We are soon to offer instruction in embroidery. Please see our article on “The Ancient Art of Ecclesiastical Embroidery.” And yes, machine tooled looms and acyclic threads used in liturgical items have the same artificial nature as icon wall paper. The slide toward “cheaper than real” got a lot of traction in these labor intensive arts. As we said in the opening sentence of the this article about ink-jet printer art:
“Perhaps it was inevitable. The technology has been in place for decades. It was only a matter of time before the sacred art of the icon became an inexpensive do-it-yourself room makeover. For those of us who support sacred arts through training iconographers and encouraging high quality work crafted from noble materials for our churches and homes, the creation and dissemination of icon wallpaper is a cause for mourning.”
From the standpoint of need for iconography, this ancient art is under assault just as it was beginning to breathe again after the defeat of the prohibition under communism. And just as it will be extremely difficult for our teacher, Olga Fishchuck, to resuscitate the art of embroidery that is not a competitor with mechanizes products but their superior in every way [actually, of another order], so will it be necessary to again recovery iconography if the wallpaper business creeps into our churches.
God help us!
April 20, 2012 at 2:05 pm
Elizabeth Randell
Just a few thoughts from an iconographer….Almost everyone seems to agree that a hand painted icon is more desirable than a printed reproduction. The question seems to be whether inkjet reproductions of icons are an acceptable substitute for hand painted icons in the churches in view of the stated advantages of the inkjet version, (i.e. cost effectiveness and economy of time.) The argument for printed reproductions also includes claims that the appearance of the printed icons applied to church walls is indistinquishable from the appearance of hand painted icons. In other words, they’re cheaper, quicker, and they fool the eye. In my opinion such utilitarian arguments bear no weight in matters of Orthodox faith and practice. Further, it seems to me that this emphasis on the material appearance presents a few problems and questions. Separating the physicality of the object and eliminating the spiritual element of the icon which necessitates human hand and heart could be seen as having decidedly gnostic implications and setting up a disturbing dualism. An icon is certainly more than object; rather it is an embodiment of the prototype which allows the possibility of veneration without idolotry.
Several more questions come to mind, especially regarding the inkjet printed canvases for installation in churches. 1. Is it not important to bring the very best offering unto God that one can possibly afford, a costly sacrifice? And if inkjet reproductions are to be a temporary solution will there ever be enough incentive to remove them and commission an iconographer to hand paint their replacement? 2. In the process of painting an icon is there a re-birthing or re-creation of the icon through the hand of the consecrated iconographer or is an icon a simple sensorial image that can be made via command P? In other words is this a mechanical or mystical process born from within the context of the liturgical life of the church (theology of Presence?) 3. Is iconography a consecrated ministry of the church? If so should it not be protected, guided and nourished by the church? 4. Rather than making an analogy to printed liturgical books as reproductions, let’s consider for comparison a recorded liturgy. Does the Holy Spirit descend during the epliclesis in such a situation? 5. In our materialistic society does mass production of anything create value or destroy value? 6. Are artifice and fakery compatible with the declaration of incarnational truth upon which the theology of the icon is based?
Just wondering.
April 20, 2012 at 2:14 pm
Jill
You are still refusing to answer some basic questions regarding this false dichotomy, and ignoring my statements regarding the equal sanctity of printed vs painted icons, and their venerable analogues, printed vs hand-made and hand-lettered gospels, and plashchanitsy. You have also ignored my earlier comments of the outright impossibility in the past, and the still-great difficulty in most cases at present, of obtaining painted icons in countries where Orthodoxy has taken root through emigration.
In my fifty years of Orthodox life, the only painted works in the twenty or so Orthodox churches in the city where I live were, for most of that time, naturalistic-style paintings carried out by mainly non-Orthodox artists for the iconostases of these churches. There simply were no local iconographers until perhaps ten years ago, fifteen at most. The only painted portable icons to be found anywhere had all been brought out by emigrants from their home countries, and many an impoverished immigrant did not possess painted icons at all, only paper ones. Importing iconographers from overseas, if it were indeed possible (what chance would a Soviet-era Russian or Romanian iconographer have had of getting a visa to a western country? That is, if he could ply his trade at all), was prohibitive in cost for many a parish with few resources.
It’s all very well to wax sanctimoniously about a scrupulous ideal, which is easily attainable in countries with a rich Orthodox patrimony, but the reality, one that I, and countless others, have lived through, is that printed icons for home or church in countries where Orthodoxy was never the norm were all that was available until very, very recently. Your mistake is to conflate the crass and slovenly advertising pitch of “cheaper than real” with a wholesale denigration of printed icons as unworthy, something that flies in the face of the proclaimed and proven sanctity of examples such as the St Nicholas of Myra and the Hawaii-Iveron icons. God has chosen to manifest His grace in these humble, imperfect vessels, these stones that builders like you try so hard to reject. What next – a rejection of the use of acrylic paints because they’re a synthetic material?
April 24, 2012 at 6:01 pm
hexaemeron
Dear Jill,
I’ve been away on a four-day event. Returning, I appreciate your deft remarks.
But to the point, even the promoters of icon wallpaper have stated that photocopies of icons “can never replace” the icons themselves. Doesn’t this mean that even the sellers do not endorse “equal status of printed icons with painted icons”?
A photograph is a byproduct of something that has tangible status in the world as a real object, landscape, creature, person, etc. The photocopy of an icon could not exist if there were no icons to photograph. The icon exists independently of the technology to digitally re-present it with an ink-jet printer; the reverse is not possible. Although there are many attempts to give the photocopy a tangible [equivalent] status, like gluing it to a hard substance of some kind, the photocopy lacks every property of an icon except as an impression of the subject matter, whether Christ, the Theotokos or a particular feast day.
That being said, since the invention of photography we have become fascinated with the ability of that technology to evoke feelings about an image that the shutter captures, often very deep feelings that cause an emotional reaction as if the photographed subject were actually present. The famous late-nineteenth and early-twentieth century photographer of Native Americans, Edward Curtis, encountered resistance from his subjects because they feared the contraption captured the spirit: “the shadow catcher”, they called it. Photography is truly a great wonder and as a photographer I revel in that wonder which from the beginning of the technology has steadily become an art form of its own.
Art and photography have had a love-hate relationship ever since. The works of Degas and many of the Impressionists show signs of the artists having learned from photographs something about movement, which the naked eye cannot process in stop-frame, like the position of hooves on the racetrack. Plenty of current artists do not even work from life anymore; they paint from photographs. As a personal preference, I do not like the products of this way of working. I find them quite dead and I much prefer the photograph itself because it appeals to me as more direct and honest. It was the eye of the photographer that abstracted the subject from its surroundings and offered it as art. But so what! Others love paintings of their grandchildren’s photographs or of a special sunset snapped while on vacation.
The problem we raise here about photo-reproductions of icons substituted for icons, a “false dichotomy” as you call it, is about more than personal taste, and about more than meeting a dearth of icons with a steady supply of photographs of icons. In regard to the latter, I have worked for the past 20 years with Russian iconographers who helped revive the forbidden art of the icon from the ruins of the former Soviet Union. There were times during that atheistic period of iconoclasm, as you have noted, when believers buried their family icons to prevent confiscation or when people torn pages out of art books of photographed icons and lovingly framed them for veneration. “People were so happy to have these photographs,” my friend says.
I am completely sympathetic with this provisional use of photocopies. Of course! An emergency requires emergency measures.
Mission parishes around the world have had and continue to have a temporary use of photographs as placeholders until they can afford an iconographer to paint icons. It is also true that even many painted works in the temples erected during the immigrant period have more in common with romantic Italian religious art than with the theology of the icon that Photis Kontoglou and Ouspensky labored to rescue. Furthermore, it is true that many parishes have expensively purchased such poor examples of iconography that even icon wallpaper of classic prototypes would be an improvement.
Wallpaper over these monstrosities all you want! (I must resist suggesting candidates.)
But this is not the reality in which we now live in this country, nor in the former Soviet Union territories where there is a great renaissance of icon painting taking place. The issue here is no longer about the lack of iconographers, but about paying them. The insatiable appetite in this country for the “cheaper than real” never ceases to amaze.
During the last ten years we have trained hundreds of iconographers. Some of the best currently work within their parishes to meet the need for icons. But when it is suggested by the wallpaper advocates that parishes can sidestep the move from provisional and/or emergency circumstances to permanency with mass-produced photographs of icons for pennies as compared with the real thing, the question of “equal status” of these products with painted icons must be addressed.
Whether “sanctimonious” or just overly sarcastic in my rant against icon wallpaper (forgive me), this issue deeply troubles me.
Several respondents to this article make the case that it is merely the impression of the subject matter of the icon that gives it the status of an icon; the means of representing the subject are superfluous. This is a complicated issue, and on many levels a question for our theologians, as I have suggested. We must think about this very carefully before answering. Is the sacred image “a mere illustration of the celebrated event and for this reason it doesn’t matter what form it takes”, as Fr. Zinon says? Or does “the form”, executed by human hands and built from noble substances, actually share something of the status of the prototype in the same way that flower blossoms do with the Creator?
If emphasis on “form” is pushed too far, the icon as a painted object, indeed, risks the censure of idolatry, as you have astutely noted. But we already face that accusation and misunderstanding, even with photocopies of icons. There are, of course, elements of form that we can readily point to that make it clear that “equal status of printed icons with painted icons” is not possible, such as the use of gold in icons, not because it is “costly”, but because there is no other malleable substance in creation that we know of which gathers and reflects light so astonishingly, hence a meet presenter of God’s immaterial glory.
We are too long in these remarks to bring in the use of synthetically produced medium and pigments vs. naturally occurring substances traditionally used in icon painting. We can save that debate for another article.
But a word about “weeping paper icons”. I have seen this myself in a little temple near Pskov on the Estonian border, a little temple that Stalin sent his planes and bulldozers to destroy but was miraculously prevented from accomplishing his mission. All parts of the survival of this church are miraculous; the substance emitting from the printed images is only one part of the miracle. Substances of mysterious content and mystical origins, whether “gushing”, dripping, oozing, or slowing sliding down the surface of oil painted icons, egg tempera painted icons, photographs of icons, Xerox copies of photographed icons, are all miraculous. It is the supernatural intervention of the Super-Essential Godhead. We are feeble to understand or reason from cause to effect; we only understand that we are being blessed. How can this blessing, this intervention, be a proof theory for the “equal status of printed icons with painted icons”?
Your thoughts are gratefully solicited,
Mary
April 26, 2012 at 11:56 pm
Andrew Gould
I have been thinking deeply about this matter for many years, largely in the context of Orthodox church design, which is my profession. I have the following observations to share:
First of all, mechanically reproduced icons have existed as long as painted icons. The Orthodox Church has always utilized cast brass icons. These are a mechanical reproduction of a carved original. In the middle ages, liturgical books were frequently illustrated with wood-block prints of icons. In later centuries, copper-plate engravings of icons were common in books and also in private icon corners.
The important thing about these traditional reproduction arts is that they did not seek to falsely imitate another art. The reproductions were true to their own nature. A foundry artist had to know how to carve and cast brass icons according to the strengths and weaknesses of his medium. Brass icons were a unique art, quite unlike painted icons. Likewise block-printed and engraved icons needed to be made by artists who specialized in those media, who knew how to render images that wood be legible and attractive when printed by those technologies. Thus old liturgical book illustrations are considered significant artworks in and of themselves, not mere copies of paintings.
I would also point out that photographic portraits of modern saints are also a respectable art in their own right, not a copy of anything.
Photographs of painted icons are different. The means of reproduction offers no artistic content or beauty of its own. It is only a copy, and inevitably an inferior copy to the original. It is very interesting to me that the church is obviously uncomfortable with honestly displaying these photographic prints. They are never displayed in a normal picture frame with glass, like we display photographs of anything else. Rather, the church mounts them on boards with the edges painted red so that they look vaguely like the painted original. It is as if one falsification can cancel out another, and somehow redeem the troubling indignity of a printed paper icon.
In my opinion, as a student of art history and lover of all crafts, a mounted icon photograph is completely artless and therefore unworthy as an offering to God. Yes, it may be efficacious for prayers and veneration; I do not argue with that. However, we should not hold liturgical arts to the bare minimum standard of being merely psychologically effective. We should hold them to the high standard of being a noble expression of the skills with which God imbued us when he ordained us co-creators of this beautiful world.
April 27, 2012 at 2:19 am
hexaemeron
Thank you, Andrew.
I wholeheartedly invite our readers to visit Andrew Gould’s web site for his newly formed company of artisans, New World Byzantine Studios: http://www.nwbstudios.com/
Over the years, Andrew and I have shared the vision for a school of liturgical arts. I have lamented over not being able to marshal the support for carrying out our dream; he has found a more practical solution, at least in the interim between creating a desire for fine craftsmanship and establishing a school for training these skills. Here is how Andrew describes it:
“Andrew Gould, founder of NWB Studios, has spent years considering the state of the Orthodox liturgical arts. Concerned by the gulf that separates Orthodox churches today from the artistic heritage of ancient times, Andrew established his vocation as a designer of Orthodox churches. For years, he and his friends discussed plans for establishing a school of the Orthodox arts. They dreamt that enthusiastic young people would attend a school to learn liturgical woodwork, metalwork, and stone carving, along with liturgical music and iconography. But the idea for a school never materialized. Young craftsmen cannot afford to attend years of school for these arts, and they cannot make a living having learned them, because there is no existing market demand.
Andrew decided upon another approach. By founding a church supply company that offers beautiful pieces in the best ancient styles, Andrew hopes to create a new market. Over time, churches will become accustomed to buying better liturgical art. As more pieces are ordered, more craftsmen will be added to our atelier and taught to design and make them. Eventually, we hope to establish a new culture in which there are many craftsmen working together in harmonious styles, and many churches partaking of their services. By means of the ancient method of apprenticeship, the dream of the school will be realized.”
April 27, 2012 at 4:41 am
Tom
Thank you, Andrew, for being the first to post a cogent defense of a strict enforcement of having only hand-painted icons in a temple. So far there’s been lots of flowery rhetoric, but no effective arguments.
If iconography in the temple acts not only as a means to prayer, but also as an offering to God, then that’s actually a decent reason to insist on the “real” thing. All the other arguments so far seem only to discredit printed icons from an “inferior materials” position, which is ludicrous if the only purpose of icons is to visually help the laity to enter into prayer.
If icons in the temple are to help with prayer *and* serve as an offering from the community to the glory of God, a God who deserves only our best, then indeed, hand-done icons are the way to go.
April 27, 2012 at 3:57 pm
Janice
I’m confused, Tom.
I think the entire discussion of hand painted icons vs photographic images on this thread has been very fruitful, and I would disagree that there have been “no effective arguments,” but instead “lots of flowery rhetoric.” Mary Lowell, Andrew Gould, and Elizabeth Randell have all made substantial contributions to this very important discussion, and their defenses of hand painted icons are remarkably similar. The huge issue of modern technology and its ability to produce photographic imagery to replace the work of the iconographer is a thorny topic, and as we’ve seen, brings out strong feelings on both sides.
Ironically, your last paragraph probably sums up the feelings of the proponents of hand painted icons in Orthodox Churches: “If icons in the temple are to help with prayer *and* serve as an offering from the community to the glory of God, a God who deserves only our best, then indeed, hand-done icons are the way to go.” Isn’t that the point of the entire discussion?
I have also appreciated the writings of Jill who understands the sufferings of Orthodox countries under siege who had no access to hand painted icons in countries like the Soviet Union where icon painting was deemed to be a criminal act. Hopefully, the revival of iconography in Russia will enable Orthodox Churches to have access to icons which are central to Orthodox worship. I also pray that American Orthodox Churches can share in this revival.
I’m grateful to Hexaemeron for opening this discussion. I hope it can continue on this website and be taken up by parishioners and Church leaders elsewhere.
May 9, 2012 at 2:54 am
ochlophobist
As a traditional coppersmith who appreciates the the dignity of actual artisan craft and its human importance and as someone whose most treasured icon is a cheap paper icon mounted on cheap plastic which I purchased in a parish in Siberia in 1992, I have found this discussion interesting, though I tend to agree with Tom’s disposition on the matter. My own work is such, as much as I may not like it, that only rich people can really afford it and thus I labor for a very niche market. This is a matter that my artisan friends and I discuss regularly – that our work is really only ‘for’ an economic elite who can afford it and who fetishize it in a manner that few of us who make it do. Most of us are thankful that this social and economic phenomena keeps us employed, but it isn’t exactly the ideal manner of making and selling our work.
Along those lines, I can’t but wonder when reading this thread if the spirit of American boboism (google “david brooks bourgeois bohemian” if you don’t know what a bobo is), with its constant quest for authenticity and its consumer orientation toward craft everything – craft beer, craft food, craft luggage, craft jewelry, craft children’s toys, etc., doesn’t have something to do with the ‘urgency’ and fervor that is felt by middle (and as often as not upper middle) class converts to Orthodoxy regarding the extent to which an appropriation of tradition demands rather stringent ‘craft authenticity’ here. I can’t recall ever hearing of a similar conversation in Russia or Greece, where I would have guessed the logic nearly always goes – get the best you can reasonably afford.
May 9, 2012 at 2:55 pm
Jill
Saying that printed icons are less than worthy is like saying that chrismation as the means of reception into the Church is inferior to full baptism. I guess such folks don’t accept that St Elizabeth the Grand Duchess is truly a saint. 😉
May 9, 2012 at 3:22 pm
Janice
Not sure the sarcasm expressed by Jill above has much merit. And as to the ochlophobist’s comments about the “bobos,” I doubt that his class-driven statements have much to do with this discussion, other than revealing his own distain for “bobos.” I understand his point of view, but I doubt that converts are motivated by questions of taste as he would suggest. I do agree that among converts, there is a search for authenticity (some might call it “truth”) but the converts I know do not have the income to build grand temples”decorated” with icons. I fear that some of them might accept “tasteful” wall paper and improved air conditioning, rather than paying a living wage for an iconographer.
May 9, 2012 at 4:43 pm
ochlophobist
Given the political and economic predisposition of most converts in America, I agree that paying anyone a living wage is not among their concerns. But in addition to the iconographer we might need to worry about paying the choir director and priest living wages, as well as the church secretary and anyone else the parish employs or should employ (how many choir directors ought to be paid for their work?), and the structure of our economy makes this increasingly difficult. I also agree with you that there is a peculiar, if predictable, spirit in some American Orthodox subcultures which would rather “invest” in “tasteful wall paper” and improved AC rather than in iconography, and I agree that such a hierarchy of investment is unfortunate and tells us something about what is really desired.
May 9, 2012 at 3:40 pm
Jill
Janice, my comment was in no way sarcastic. I know folks who have expressed such sentiments about chrismation vs baptism, who have questioned the wisdom of their bishop in deciding chrismation alone was acceptable for them being received into Orthodoxy. I have also encountered “cradles” who look upon converts, particularly those who were received by chrismation, with disdain, as not *fully* Orthodox. Such distinctions are no less mistaken and misguided as the insistence that printed icons are “not really proper icons”.
May 9, 2012 at 6:15 pm
Janice
Jill, I am quite aware of the controversies over chrismation vs baptism. Just thought that your comments “I guess such folks don’t accept that St. Elizabeth the Grand Duchess is truly a saint.” seemed to be sarcastic, and not really relevant to the discussion at hand, but if you want to bring all these other kinds of controversies over Church practices into the conversation, that is your choice.
From what I’ve gleaned from the comments, most of the responders are not completely condemning paper icons, especially when described as “place holders.” Even the Hexaemeron correspondent who began the thread agreed that “even paper icons” can be miraculous and told stories about how during the Communists years in the Soviet Union, any photograph of an icon was deeply appreciated. And I’ve learned from the contributions from those who appreciate photography, from artists, and others who are grappling with this issue. I think I would agree, however, and you might, too, that painted icons are preferable to paper icons in Orthodox Churches, for all the reasons expressed in these posts.
May 9, 2012 at 6:36 pm
pbadams
Janice,
Thanks for your comments…I would add, though, that what is at stake here is a standard of beauty that is being eroded by a pragmatic (and I would say, “cheap”) trend that sees the issue crassly in terms of money. Put simply (as I’ve stated above), “why buy real when reproductions are pretty good and a lot cheaper”. I fear that we will choose the fake over the real not because we can’t afford the real but simply because we are cheap, and no longer value, nor understand, that the standard of beauty we are trying to uphold has ACTUAL consequences–spiritually (real beauty has real presence), economically (especially if you’re an iconographer), theologically (we too are icons), evangelically (REAL beauty can change hearts and minds, I see it happen all the time), and teleologically (we are representing the present and future kingdom of God).
May 9, 2012 at 8:05 pm
Janice
Thank you, pbadams, for all your comments on this blog. You have said it best.
May 9, 2012 at 11:03 pm
pbadams
Thanks, Janice, but I think Tom would strongly disagree! (see top of discussion) He still seems to think that I am equating him with the Devil and that I, and others, absolutely forbid reproduction icons (of which I have several in my home), and that the whole argument is about iconographers wanting to make more money (now that is REALLY off topic).
He also seems to think aesthetics are irrelevant and beside the point. This is where, I think we’re having our greatest misunderstanding: icons, as a MEDIUM for truth, CONVEY THAT TRUTH ON MANY LEVELS: aesthetically, theologically, personally, historically…mystically. They are not, as he (and I assume others) seems to think, ONLY about ‘helping the laity enter into prayer’ (his words). If that is all they are then, sure, who cares what they’re made of. But this is only one of the things they do. They also have their own physical presence, their own inner beauty and radiance that witnesses to many generations of people; they become, literally, loved as part of the gathered faithful.
I will let Tom’s response to me (above, top of thread) stand for itself as EXACTLY the point I am trying to make.
May 10, 2012 at 2:58 am
hexaemeron
It’s been an interesting dialog, but we are devolving into personal insults. Let us cool our jets and think about this important topic at another time. Peace to all and thank you for participating. .
May 10, 2012 at 7:55 am
Jill
Personal insults, Mary? Folks have voiced opinions which do not all concur with one another, but I see no personal insults expressed by anyone here. For you to simply shut down discussion suggests a disappointing unwillingness to listen and engage with views which differ from your own – hardly how proper discussion is normally conducted.
June 9, 2012 at 7:37 pm
Ksenia
JIll, can you email me at kkicons at gmail.com? I got in on the discussion late, and as an orthodox iconographer working in acrylic, it is important to me. I wanted to ask a question about what you wrote. I wish we could promise to be nice here and keep talking about it. Perhaps another article which takes into account some of the discussion here could be written by Mary?
May we still respond directly to the article and not to each others’ comments? I think a lot about St. John of Kronstadt’s disturbing vision of the church of the antichrist with its tallow candles. After I read about it, I tried to use the canonical beeswax candles when I could afford them, and I like to see churches do the same. What else might I be doing wrong that I don’t know about yet? Even though I don’t agree with Fr. Zinon on some points, I have to respect him, as he comes from the Russian tradition, and probably is more sensitive in conscience about these things. I think some of these things are aesthetic considerations, but they should be taken into account, for this reason. His thoughts seem to reflect the view of Elder Nektary in his biography, that an iconographer used to make the board and paint, and prepare for the holy work of painting for a long time before starting, and he seemed to suggest something was lost by not doing this.
On the other hand, I see machines such as a xerox, a computer, or power tools, as part of life, even on Mt. Athos (power tools, anyway). If someone can use them in a holy way, don’t they have a place in making any holy works, such as icons?
I don’t understand why this line of thought in the article does not lead to closing out the acrylic painters. Aren’t all materials, made of matter, capable of being sanctified? And can’t many different types of icons be used, as long as they are of archival duration? I think there is a canon about this. It may be a controversial one, as it is about icons painted on glass, and there is a viable tradition of folk icons like this that are very beautiful. Not to mentioned the stained glass in many Orthodox churches. Regardless, it may be possible to come at the subject from the angle of the paper icon being created in non-durable materials.
Theologically, it seems the image of the prototype is there, so the printed icon needs to be respected and venerated. Printing itself is not a profane occupation, of course, especially considering some blessed people like St. Job of Pochaev and our own (from the US) Father Searaphim Rose created holy works this way. I just can’t understand what would be inherently wrong with venerating the printed, blessed icons in church. I do understand from Mary’s comments that she maintains that nothing is really wrong with printing them for provisional and educational use, but that churches and faithful should buy hand-painted icons.
I also respected in the comments that Mary accepted that some of the reproductions are wonderworking. I am assuming we are all ruling out deceptions here and talking about genuine signs from God. It always comes to mind that God uses the foolish and humble things of the world. I had to stop being angry at churches at the use of reproductions from an especially mass-produced and self-promoted iconographer, after I came in contact with some of his myhrr-streaming reproductions, and saw the myhrr form one heal someone. This was an instance of God using the foolish things to teach the wise, as I had to humble down and quit being angry. It still doesn’t mean I like to see a church purchase its iconography from this guy.
Thanks, Ksenia G.
March 6, 2013 at 3:57 pm
Disappointing Duplicates | HEXAEMERON
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