Putting Out Into the Deep: Starting the Journey into Iconography

Some advice from a fellow beginner and some site updates

I’ve got a proper post for all subscribers coming but will be pushing it into Thursday, since the paid post was Tuesday this week. We’re going to look at the great spiritual legacy of the Desert Fathers, illustrated with some Egyptian Coptic iconography, which I hope will help us create some visual mental connections we might not have made before.

Today I’m just going to offer a few short thoughts on how we can undertake a personal study of iconographic symbolism, as well as a few site updates and announcements.

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How can we begin to learn things when we don’t even know what we don’t know?

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

The other day, a reader asked a question that I thought was quite important: How do I figure out all this visual Christian symbolism you keep talking about? In other words, how can I undertake the same kind of personal study?

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When I first started looking seriously at all this stuff, just about exactly 5 years ago now, the first thing to strike me was how completely out of my depth I was. I was taking one little five weekend painting class in Rome, and immediately it impressed me that I was floating on the surface of a very deep patch of ocean indeed. The Marianas Trench might look exactly like every other patch of the Pacific Ocean on the surface, but what’s down there is stranger and more important than you can even imagine up there bobbing about on the waves.

Who are these people, and what does it all mean?

I knew it was big task, and I was only just realising how little I knew. I didn’t know the history, the styles, how they related to the different nationalities. I didn’t know how the East/West divide was going to complicate things. I didn’t know who the principal figures were either historically or among our contemporary painters. And I really didn’t know anything about the symbology of icons or how that fitted in with the ancient traditions of Christian spiritual practice.

Of the last, in fact, I didn’t even know that I didn’t know. As I’ve written before, I knew only that I was in the midst of a massive personal life-adjustment, launching on a completely new and totally unknown path in to completely unknown things that simply called to me, like half-heard fairy pipes in a dark forest.

“Perichoresis”. The Trinity, from an early 14th c. manuscript, the Rothschild Canticles

It didn’t scare me (I’d just been displaced after a massive earthquake destroyed the town I was living in, and before that came through cancer after spending six years shouting at cardinals in Rome for a living, so really, very little scared me …) but it was totally uncharted waters and I knew I had to take some care with navigation. People who had read me before just saw that I kind of disappeared off the internet for a few years, and were baffled (and apparently annoyed) that when I came back I was completely uninterested in what I’d been doing before.

Parable of the wise and foolish virgins. Rothschild Canticles.

What they didn’t know was that I’d been struggling for years before disappearing with a grave disillusionment with “activism” of any kind. I knew when I started in the late 90s that it wasn’t the solution. It was a few years more before I understood it was no solution at all, either for me or for the Church or the world. I still regularly turn down offers of podcasts and interviews; I just don’t think the people who love that stuff are able to hear what I have to say about it now.

Crucifixion, and… lots of birds. Rothschild Canticles

I had been looking for a path to understanding. I wanted to know my faith in a different kind of way. I’d found that mere intellectual assent to doctrine - that is often touted as the beginning and end of Faith in the west since Trent bureaucratised everything - was a kind of path to spiritual starvation. I needed something that I knew wasn’t being offered in the western Church anywhere; certainly not in the Novus Ordo, but not in the “traditionalist” world either. It was as if there were a kind of blind spot, a blank in awareness. I hardly knew what the actual thing was that I was looking for until I found it.

Woman clothed with the sun. Rothschild Canticles.

So, for an immediate, concrete answer to our friend Maria’s question, “I was wondering if there is a good online resource for understanding the symbols in in sacred art,” I would like to offer a starting place, something easily accessible, that can help start laying the intellectual framework for getting a grip on a whole plane of spiritual reality that we have mostly forgotten is even there to be gripped.

Can you guess?

This three-hour documentary is slow-paced and not comprehensive. It’s not the end point, but like a doorway. It helped me start asking the right kinds of questions.

I also suggested to Maria that she read the articles on iconography at the Orthodox Arts Journal, founded by Jonathan Pageau.

For books I can suggest the ones that are more or less standard texts:

Theology of the icon, vols 1 and 2 and The Meaning of Icons by Leonid Ouspensky.

For practical technique: Aidan Hart’s book, Techniques of Icon and Wall Painting is one of the best, as well as Color as Light in Byzantine Painting: Theory and Practice with A Guide to Egg Tempera with Underpainting, by George Kordis.

I haven’t read, but want to read, Icons in the Modern World: Beauty, Spirit, Matter, by Aidan Hart

I’d also take a look at The Mystical Language of Icons by Solrunn Nes - I haven’t read it, but I’ve been impressed with her other writing. (She also has a Substack, Reflections of Christian Iconography.)

But really one of the most important aspects of understanding Christian visual theology is familiarity with the Scriptures, and how the Fathers interpret and expand on it. It’s about visually translating scripture into images, so the most important thing to understand about what you’re seeing is, literally, understanding what you’re seeing. For this, I recommend the Orthodox Study Bible. Not because it’s Orthodox, but because it is liberally annotated with commentary by the Church Fathers.

Warning: it’s not easy

There are all kinds of difficulties and obstacles to learning. Though it’s far from universal, the Orthodox often don’t seem to like us Latins very much, and you can often get some pretty hostile reactions from them in places like Facebook iconography pages. I’ve learned to tread very carefully. It can be difficult to find sources in English, and even more difficult to find substantial course work in the Anglosphere.

Additionally, the practice of iconography, even in the Orthodox world, is in a state of revival right now (75 years of Soviet suppression) and there are deep controversies and arguments about how to do it right, much of which is waaaaay over our Western, Latin heads. We’re starting from a completely different set of problems historically, so much of what they’re discussing doesn’t really have anything to do with us. We need to start re-constructing our conceptual framework from scratch; or at least, from our point of departure, 600 years ago.

Reaching across the East/West Schism divide is difficult enough with historical, theological and linguistic differences - that were together almost insurmountable before the internet - but adding the complexity of the direction our own western history went since the 1500s puts us into whole categories of problems that no one can really help us with. We’re in a unique situation if we care about these things, see the problems and are looking for authentic solutions.

I’m still just learning and sharing what I’m discovering

I might have a habit - developed out of 25 years of online journalism and writing - of sounding authoritative, but it’s really just a writing style. I’m feeling my way forward, learning, discovering and understanding these complexities as I go along. It’s true that the journalism methods and habits have helped a great deal; I know how to refine ideas and write about them, to ask questions and find answers and put together disparate threads of data to make a whole picture. So I come at it from a bit of a unique and slightly odd angle, rather different from the one most people come from; I’m not an academic.

All the while I was working in Rome as a Vatican correspondent, I was taking formal academic drawing classes, which really opened up new neural pathways in ways I couldn’t have guessed were possible. And it started me thinking about the development of the visual intellect, an idea that has become a theme here. I think the combination of these things have come together to form a starting point, but really that’s all it is.

I’m just so very chuffed and excited that other people seem to be catching the same fascination I’ve had.

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Welcome new subscribers!

I’m very happy to announce that the total follower number for this site has topped over 5000, including paid, free and “followers” on Notes.

You can definitely tell from just glancing at this graph when I decided to make this about a particular subject and started taking it seriously.

For all the new people, I’ll just reiterate what we’re about:

Since the 1980s there has been a grassroots movement in the Western, Latin Church towards greater knowledge of doctrine and Scripture, but there has been no accompanying movement about our artistic patrimony. And it is into this gap that I hope this website can step and make a meaningful contribution.

Of the 4287 total subscribers, 217 have signed up for a paid subscription, which puts us at a “conversion rate,” as it’s called, of just barely over 5%. Substack’s “average” is between 7-10%, so we’re still fairly low, with the rate of growth of “all” subscribers rocketing skyward, but paid subscriptions remaining pretty flat. We’re finally at the stage where the paid subscriptions are bringing in enough income for me to be able to give this work priority and full attention.

But I have large dreams. I’ve been reading (and watching YouTube) about how to do podcasts. I’ve seen a lot of poor quality beginners podcasts and don’t want to start that low; there are technical things to learn and I want to learn them before starting. I’ve also got little interest in doing what everyone else is doing. I don’t think I’m alone in being a little tired of the usual suspects, talking about the usual things.

I did one a few months ago with John Gillam, and it was fun, but I think I can do a lot better. I also think it’s time to start getting out of the house more; I’m looking at short documentary techniques so I can take you all along to the sites in Umbria and nearby to go see the art and architecture and history we’re surrounded with here more often.

I’m working on courses that can be sold as packages for homeschoolers - the first on the Wilton Diptych, as well as ebooks. I’m starting to accumulate enough individual articles on single or related topics that it’s time to start thinking about bundling and editing them together.

Starting with the long-awaited “Where did all the monasteries go?” about the 250 year long destruction of European monastic life.

To do all that, or even portions of it, I’ll need help; it’s just too much for one person. So I’m also starting to think about adding people to the team. At the moment it’s mostly me, with a little help in technical stuff from friends. But I’ll be keeping my eye out for more contributors who have a unique and interesting perspective on our subjects. I’m hopeful that this will broaden our voice and the areas we talk about.

Mother Marie and the gang having a picnic on a damp October day in Liguria.

I know you have all responded wonderfully enthusiastically to the offerings on traditional spirituality from our friend Mother Marie Billingsley, our resident Benedictine superior. I’ve got another one from her this week that I’m sure you’re going to like.

Here comes the pitch

But of course for all this to happen, there have to be more paid subscribers. I hope that if you’ve found some value in the free offerings here you’ll consider taking out a paid subscription - for US $9/month. I can’t tell you how encouraging it is to be able to focus on this work without fearing how I’m going to cover the rent and bills and keep the beasties fed. But I think now that we’re past that stage, it’s time to start thinking seriously about levelling up.

I think of the paid members of the Project as people who are as committed and enthusiastic as I am about it, who see the value in preserving and exploring the our ancient and precious heritage of Christian sacred art. You aren’t just subscribers; I think of you as partners in this project, which is why I call it a “membership.” And very often I learn and benefit a great deal from our interactions. Your support means you’re actively involved in the effort to push back against our vast cultural and spiritual amnesia.

But what makes this project different is that it’s not about following the usual beaten trail of complaints about politics, whether secular or ecclesiastical. We don’t focus on the latest disasters, the collapse of the Church or the endless cycles of doomsaying that often dominate conversations in traditional circles. I leave all of that to others. Rather than despair over what’s wrong, we focus on the enduring truths that have shaped Christian art and culture for centuries.

It’s because of you that I’m able to delve deeper, create more, and expand this work in ways I wouldn’t be able to otherwise. Your belief in the importance of this endeavour fuels my own commitment and fills me with more hope than I experienced in 20 years of writing about the doomy-gloomy stuff.

We don’t turn a blind eye to the present, but we take a more pro-active stand: what can we actually do?

So, I hope if you’re among the nearly 1000 people [!!] who have become free subscribers since the last time I did a blurb like this, you’ll consider taking out a paid membership and really joining us, diving deeper and becoming more involved.

As always we include the option of signing up for a monthly patronage through my studio blog, Hilary White; Sacred Art, for an amount of your choice. Anyone signing up there for $9/month or more will of course receive a complimentary paid membership here. You can also make one-off donations here.

Paid members receive an in-depth post every week, as well as the extra “below the fold” section of the weekly Goodie Bag post, where I usually post exclusive original photos and videos of my trips, as well as extra material like digital downloads. All the material on the site automatically goes behind a paywall after two months, and a paid subscription opens the complete archives.

Thanks very much again for joining us, both free and paid.

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Prints, shopping and overseas shipping

It’s that time of year again, and I’m having quite a lot of fun adding things to the shop. I’ll be updating readers as we go along.

I just bought myself one of these, a wood panel print of this magnificent late Gothic painting by the Master of the Embroidered Foliage that we talked about in detail last week.

The fine art printing company I use, based in Texas, does high quality art prints on a wood panel. This imitates the look of the original - painted in oils on a wood panel - pretty closely. I was very happy to have found a good high resolution image of the painting and have downloaded it and will be using it as the centrepiece of this year’s Christmas items in my shop, which you can look at here:

The entry for this item at my shop says that shipping is only available in the US, but that’s because I thought the cost of shipping across the Atlantic (and presumably across the Pacific) would be absolutely sky-high, so I thought it would probably be prohibitive for most British and European customers.

I wasn’t very happy with the performance of some of the dropshipped items last year, especially Christmas cards and tree ornaments. The quality of the items was OK, but the problems the company created with shipping were a blinding headache. So this year, I’m happy to see that the good high quality art printer has expanded their available products. Getting everything from a single source is really the solution, so I’m rebuilding the inventory in the shop.

Tree ornaments and Christmas cards are back, including the very popular 15th century French manuscript miniature of the Nativity, and my own painting of St. Benedict. And since they all come from the same fine art printer, the quality will be really nice. I'll be adding some more as I find good high resolution images.

I’ve been trying to find a good high quality art printer on this side who does the same thing, prints on wood panels, but so far no luck. So, I thought I’d take the plunge myself and do a kind of printing/shipping test run. The shipping from the Texas place was $32.63 to Italy. So, we’ll see how it goes, if it’s fairly prompt and whether it chokes on Italian customs rules. If it works OK, I’ll just add the option of the extra shipping for European/British orders so you can order it if you want to. In the meantime I’ll keep looking for a decent European printer who does this on wood so we can get the shipping costs down to something reasonable.

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Thanks for joining me today, and for putting up with all the advertising. We’ll be back to regular programming tomorrow with a post exploring the ancient Desert Fathers, those mysterious men who at the moment Christianity was legalised across the old Empire, just walked out into the desert, leaving everything behind to find God.

HJMW.