The Icon Studio

Several years ago I was approached to write an icon of the Resurrection for a local church, St. Mary’s in Beauly, which was completed and put in place this Easter. Firstly, the priest and people needed to decide which event of the Resurrection narrative they wanted to have as a focus for prayer. I was asked to give a slide lecture on the various icons portraying the events of the Resurrection – a bible study with images. We chose a combination of two events. These were the appearance to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, described in Matthew 28 v. 8-10, and a collation from the other accounts, with several women (Luke) and just one angel representing the heavenly powers.

  An important factor in the decision was the place and size. The position chosen was long and narrow, on the left of the sanctuary arch, above the lectern where the Word of God is proclaimed. This is very good theology: the seventh ecumenical council (787 CE) tells us ‘the making of iconographic representations – being in accordance with the narrative of the proclamation of the Gospel’ is ‘for the purpose of ascertaining the incarnation of God the Word … was real, not imaginary.’

The shape and size of the icon was made to replicate the arched enclosure of the statue of our lady by the high altar – including the three-fold surrounding stone beading, which was transposed into gilded wood in the icon.

  As everyone who has written the icon knows, not only the subject, but the use of the materials of the icon tend towards resurrection ( anastasis). Each material has to die, in order to go through a metamorphosis (in Greek, transfiguration is metamorphosis!). The wood which is chopped down becomes the wood of the cross, and of the icon board. Flax is cut down to make woven cotton, to cover our cross as a sign of the burial shroud. Limestone is ground to powder and mixed with animal, fish or vegetable glue to become gesso. Gold is heated and hammered repeatedly to purify it into thin gold leaves. Each pigment has to lose it’s original form – stone, earth or metal to become the brilliant resurrection colours of paint.

The process of natural life – death – resurrection is also a spiritual process for each iconographer, undergone in a smaller or greater way as each icon is written. The icon painter has the duty to give a vision of the path to the kingdom of God, to the church in general, and to each client in particular. In this way, the vocation of the iconographer is closely linked to that of the prophet. However it is a vision only achieved through personal ascesis: the iconographer must sacrifice his own ideas and personal imagination to express the teaching of the church through a material object. This is particularly evident in the Beauly Resurrection, where the icon visibly backs up the teaching of the priest from the pulpit.

 Coming up for Easter seems a good time to review some of the crucifixes which have been made at Sancti Angeli, or are currently underway. The first big crucifix I was asked to do was for the Catholic chaplaincy at Cambridge University, some years ago, almost immediately followed by one for St. Benet’s Hall  - the Benedictine House of studies in Oxford.  Although Oxford and Cambridge have venerable and glorious Anglican chapels, the same is not true for Catholics, who have a historical gap of several hundred years in the UK.

To maintain a light weight and a large size – it was originally intended to be carried through to the larger hall on Sundays – the crucifix was made in marine plywood, which I have adopted on a number of occasions since, for oversize pieces, including the current ones. The plywood has to be marine plywood – not just waterproof or any other of the cheaper options a number of tradesmen have tried to persuade me into! This is because the wood is going to be drenched in glue, during the glue and gauze phases, and then treated with repeated coats of warm glue and whiting.

 By the end of this process the plywood has been thoroughly damped on one side while remaining dry on the other – a formidable challenge for any bit of wood! The sheets of marine plywood are glued together with a superior sort of glue and the sheets themselves are treated to withstand drenching. Another way of doing this is to use several pieces of jointed wood – but for large work, at today’s prices, this is asking a lot of the relatively modest means of many churches.

The raised edge is custom made by the woodworker, to size and quite high, so that it will not disappear under the gesso (glue-plaster) layers. The halo is also made separately – a concave piece of wood with a raised edge which can be water-gilded to reflect the movement of daylight. In the example a decorative gold punch is used around the edge to give texture. Our Saviour has already died, shown by the lack of red (blood) in his body.

 The halo is of sweet chestnut – quite an expensive wood, but close grained and very light. I have found it very reliable in large wooden panels and, because the wood is so light, an icon which would be nearly immoveable in oak can be carried by two people in a procession. Richard Richardson, a woodworker at Prinknash Abbey suggested it too me first – the monks used it for their graveyard crosses, so it stands up to being drenched! It is available from the nearby Whitney sawmills.

The Cambridge crucifix followed a Russian icon model, and included figures of the Theotokos and John the Evangelist. It is always very difficult to balance these two figures visually on an icon, so I keep the designs for future reference. John relatively takes up a lot of space, while Mary tends to be straighter and simpler! Part of this is because Mary often has less physical space – the S curve of the body of the crucified physically moves towards the Mother, and takes up some of the space on her side of the cross. During painting the imbalance is corrected by the colours – John is usually dressed in light garments, while Mary is in her typical dark purplish red.

 By contrast, the Oxford crucifix, for St. Benet’s hall, was made entirely of several pieces of sweet chestnut with a recessed ‘tovcheg’ – tabernacle area – typical of the icon tradition. The body is much warmer in tone – the eyes are open and compassionate – the Lord has not yet died. The gilded ground was a fairly modern texture effect. This was created by water gilding on a substantial ‘cushion’ of gilders clay. The water gild was laid, then the pattern –  a grain suggesting wood – was stamped into the damp gild, using the end of a medium sized chisel.

 Another commission represented a different challenge. The commissioner wanted me to follow closely a traditional model of his choice. This involved several kinds of gold work – water gild, always applied first, in the halo: oil gild, applied next on the edges and large lines: and assiste, applied at the end, over the tempera paint. Assiste involves laying a glair ( egg white ‘glue’ ) over the yolk tempera, to prevent the loose gold adhering to the paint. When the glair layer is removed, any odd bits of gold are also removed. The result is something like fine painting with gold ground to a powder, but it is brighter and crisper, and no where near as expensive! Technically it was great fun!

 A crucifix, for which I have recently submitted designs, is relatively austere. For a large simple, beautifully designed and proportioned, western church, it needs what Father Dyfrig Harris characterised as ‘noble simplicity,’ which he considered the key characteristic of the Roman rite at it’s best.  In designing for churches, each church and congregation present their own particular challnges. The solution which is perfect for one church may be inappropriate for the next. This is particularly true when designing for the great variety of western rite churches, which do not retain a  canonical typology, in the same way as the Christian east.

 However, in any crucifix the ‘touchstone of truth is reading the accounts of the crucifixion in the Gospels. One of the best studies while designing a crucifix is the Good Friday service of the twelve gospels, which bring together various accounts of the Passion with prose hymns which form a rich and beautiful commentary.

Work has been going on apace, which probably accounts for the lack of updates since Christmas! February is normally a time of finishing off small commissions and ordering wood and boards. This year was no exception. Designs have been in process for a large icon crucifix for a church, while it has at last been possible for the woodworker to come and complete the boards for a pair of large icons for a church in Wales. Other commissions earmarked for this year include one of the saints of Anglo Saxon England, who baptised in the south and midlands area of the UK. At Easter 2012, the icon I have been doing for St. Mary’s Church in Beauly, will finally be unveiled.

In giving news of present work in the studio, I have to be very discreet, because obviously the client has not seen the finished icon, and may wish to unveil it on a particular date or give it to someone. They will not want pictures generally available on the internet beforehand, spoiling the surprise! However, as the parish have had the designs for this icon displayed in their church, I think I can give a preview- on the right! (Those of you who are signed up as Friends of eastXwest do occasionally get more of a peek in the house diary! – you can sign up at http://www.sanctiangeli.org/charity_angels.html )

   Much of my own work has been to go into modern churches which may have good architectural bones but lack that ‘bridging quality’ given by an interior decoration which inspires devotional prayer, readying the person in the pew to participate in the mystery. One of the first icons I made, in this context, was a large Our Lady of the Sign for the Bristol University Chaplaincy. The students raised a lot of money by themselves in a sponsored walk. The priest was very hesitant that the icon was ‘too alien’ culturally and would not go down well. However the result surprised him. We found that there, as in many other churches for which I have written (painted) icons, the young people responded very positively.

This is, I think, due to several factors. The icon is surprisingly modern visually. It has a strong abstract base, which means it easily fits into a modern architectural surrounding. At the same time it is not totally abstract. The person can relate devotionally to the image of a saint – an exemplar of the spiritual life. Icons are not portraits- they do not look you in the eye – their eyes are focussed on the presence of God. In a sense they ‘look through’ – as we have to learn to ‘look through’ to discern God in the eucharist. This makes the icon the sign of a fellow journeyer who has ‘made it’ – made the breakthrough to a new state of consciousness, another world – rather than an idol ( the protestant fear) or a rather empty plaster cast ( the 19c. statue).

Finally the icon complements scripture. Its content is based on scripture, corresponding to the teaching of the Gospels and Church – often directly based on interpretive texts by Church Fathers. They have implicitly the core of continuity of tradition which many young people are seeking for – dependable roots.

The icon of the Feodorovskaya was made for a private prayer room. The subject was chosen by the client from a later version of the icon. It had an important personal value as a memorial of his mother. The first job writing any icons is find out about it’s background and the earliest type, so as to be true to the original. The history of this icon is fascinating. It is the household icon of the Tzars – the Romanov family. Known as the Black Virgin of Russia, atrributed to St. Luke and overpainted several times, it was kept in the the wooden monastery Church of St. Theodore Stratilates near the town of Gorodets (now in the Nizhni Novgorod Region) in the twelfth century.  Miracles associated with the icon, linking it with apparitions of St. Theodore Stratelates comforted the people during the Mongol and Tatar invasions. For this reason, its primary title is the Saint Theodore, or “Feodorovskaya,” Icon.

The original icon does have many of the characteristics one comes to recognise among those attributed to St. Luke. It is primitive and creates a strong impression.  It can be difficult to understand this icon and its uncompromising strength. Over the years artists have tried to soften the features of this icon to make it more attractive, although this compromises the spiritual discipline of it’s strong beauty. This is actually quite a difficult balance to achieve, and the later version chosen by my client emphasised strength over beauty – I felt it was important to respect this choice, and focus on the strong matronly mother.

The first Romanov Tzar was sixteen when a delegation from Moscow asked him to accept the throne.  The Archbishop of Riazan’ took the Icon of the Feodorovskaya into his hands, and addressed eldress Martha (his mother)and Michael with the following words: “Why did the icons of the Most Holy Mistress travel with us on a long journey. If you will not listen to us, then for the sake of the Mother of God, be disposed towards mercy, and do not anger the Lord God.” The eldress Martha could not stand against such words. She fell to her knees before the Feodorovskaya Icon and said, Thy will be done, O Lady. I convey my son into thy hands. Set him on the path of truth, for the good both of himself and [our] native land! Thus, before this icon was chosen the first tsar of the house of the Romanovs.

Being now an icon associated with the royal throne and the protection of Russia, many copies were made of the icon, often set in an elaborate gold riza ( icon cover). The icon I was given as a model had elaborate gilding included painting garments in powdered and burnished gold, the beloved technique of the 17th and 18th centuries. I therefore used a mixture of stamped and powder gold painting to develop the rich quality.

The icon panels for St. Mary’s Forest Hall were woefully behind schedule, but we did manage to get them up in time for the Golden Jubilee celebrations- just! The 4 panel altarpiece for  Forest Hall was one of the most difficult projects I have ever undertaken. First mooted some years ago, and completed in two sections – the lower annunciation panels and the higher Assumption panels ( see previous blog for working photos) – the brief was to provide a liturgical focus on a bare wall absolutely dominated by huge wooden shutters either side of the altar.

The design aims to provide four large sections of gold leaf, instead of bare wall to counteract the shutters, with a movement of figures up the panels – starting with the angel of the annunciation, who points to the enthroned Mary, then moving across to Mary being assumed into heaven and finally the eye rests on the Lord in heaven, seated above a couple of seraphim ( red ). The design was quite difficult, because it involved relating the dynamism of the figures to each other over a central column, which is part of the supports of the building. For the angel I did a complete tonal drawing beforehand, because the end of the wings needed to be very dynamic. The panels will be completed by two roundels connecting the designs – a dove for the annunciation and a crown for the Assumption/Coronation. These will be above the central tabernacle. It is also desirable to put some filler strips over the links to finish off when the final roundels are placed.

For more information and pictures please visit http://forestmurmurs.blogspot.com