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Last year, Michael Galovic received a commission to paint an icon portraying Christ Pantocrator (Ruler over all) at the centre, surrounded by 12 smaller icons depicting scenes from the Gospels and culminating in a final image of the Trinity. The whole work was to be 100 x 70 cm and to contain different scenes from Christ’s life, beginning with The Annunciation and culminating in an icon of the Trinity. The central image was to be based on the Mount Sinai image of Christ Pantocrator, which is arguably the best-known image of Christ in the world. In its entirety, the work would encapsulate the core concepts of Christianity.
The sheer scale of the piece was a challenge, but that paled into insignificance when set against its complexity, which required the balancing of thirteen different images in a harmony of depiction, tones and styles so that it became a unified and coherent whole.
Michael had already been contemplating embarking on such a work. It was something he felt he could not have created earlier in his career – it is the culmination of 50 years of deepening experience and praxis. The Rev. Stephen Godley expressed this beautifully in his preface to a book showcasing Michael’s earlier work, when he noted that Michael created works, ‘not only of great beauty, but which speak to the responsive spirit of the eternal quest for grace.’
This goes to the very essence of icons – they are not something to be regarded as decorative adjuncts to religion but to be valued as expressions of the numinous; the uncreated light. While they exist in the linear time of Kronos, they partake also of Kairos.
Professor Lonnie Kliever expressed this dual construct of time very eloquently:
‘Kairos is creative and serendipitous …We can temper our fear and our fixation on sequential time. We can deepen our quest and our experiences of numinous time. In such synchronicity of kronos and kairos lies our deepest consolation and our steepest aspiration.’
The generosity of the client in not setting a deadline for the completion of the work allowed Michael to explore the full potential of the concept, unbound by Kronos.
In this work, Michael wished to revisit images and excerpts from traditional icons, frescoes and mosaics to pay homage to, and display for the viewer, the amazing and almost infinite variety of artistic expressions that have formed the notion of tradition. He conceptualised the piece by bringing together a great array of images. These ranged from icons dating back to the sixth century, through to stunning mosaics such as those found in the 12th -13th century Cathedral of the Assumption in Monreale, Sicily, and beautiful evocations, such as the White Angel of the frescoes in the Dečani Monastery, founded in 1335 by the then Serbian king, St Stefan.
The central icon, based on the Mt Sinai Christ ‘Philanthropos’ or ‘Pantocrator’ is the oldest known image of Christ. The face is one of the most profoundly engaging and haunting images of Christ. However, while the original encaustic icon has been dated to the mid sixth century, it was substantially over-painted in the thirteenth century. It is therefore difficult to be absolutely certain as to what is actually original.
Father Silouan, for instance, has noted the different texture of the brush strokes on one side of the plaster and posited that, instead of attempting to guess the original iconographer’s intent, the restorer chose to paint the mouth and eye according to his contemporary iconographic canons. Thus one side of the face (where the plaster has a different texture) now shows facial features from a normal Byzantine Pantocrator, while the rest possibly reflects the original artist’s unique vision. The icon also appears at some point to have been cut down, both at the sides and at the top to give it its current dimensions. There was also the challenge presented by the almost complete lack of differentiation in the garments Christ wore.
Thus, there was a combination of factors to take into account when seeking to re-present the image, both specifically and within the context of the work as a whole. The process definitely involved a number of decisions and revisions! Nonetheless, Michael has managed to create a work that has retained the haunting quality and a sense of the dual nature of Christ, while simultaneously both bringing to light and refining many aspects of the earlier image.
In his work, the stronger definition in the hair and beard harmonises with the layered highlights in robes, giving the garment definition. By emphasising the garment with its shades of purple in this way, Michael has referenced its association with imperial status and royalty.
The face and hands have fundamentally the same shapes and proportions as in the Sinai Christ, but they are also unified through the use of colour and the treatment of the highlights. Similarly, the book, assumed to be a gospel, held by Christ has been brought into clearer focus while the image as a whole has been given a wholeness and proportions lost from the originals.
Michael’s ‘Christ Pantocrator’ is both an outstanding image in its own right and a wonderful evocation of its precursor. The image works beautifully in the context of the whole work, giving a real sense of Christ as and at:
‘the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards …’
The completion of the line provide the best image I could imagine of the process of balancing each element in the process of bringing the twelve other vivid images together and emphasising the interplay:
‘at the still point, there the dance is,
T S Eliot, ‘Burnt Norton’, 1935
The core of the dodekaorton is Christ – his nature and mission are shown in the twelve smaller icons that surround it. The making of the work meant keeping all of the elements- the style of the different contributing images, their hues and tonality- in relationship to the whole.
It was, at times, an almost agonising and definitely tortuous process, necessitating both minute and substantial changes over a period of months to create a balance as the images unfolded.
Throughout, Michael has exhibited a phenomenal attention to detail. The delicate and differentiated tones of gold in the haloes, backgrounds and framing give a subtlety to the whole, as do the almost transparent egg tempera washes. It has been fascinating to watch this work evolve. Seeing the changes made to create balance and the effect of the different forms of highlighting in the varied aspects of the composition has certainly been an enthralling journey. It has led me to appreciate far more fully the knowledge of tradition and complexity of techniques that have gone into its creation.
The Dodekaorton icon type was quite common from the 15th to the 19th centuries, especially in Russia. Nowadays, it is rarely made by contemporary iconographers anywhere in the world. Australia seems to have just gotten its first one and the beauty and the dynamism of this work brings alive the actuality of Christianity.
It is truly a labour of love that has been fifty years in the making.
Kerrie Magee,
October, 2020
In my earlier essay, the focus was very much on the central icon of Christ Pantocrator: here I would like to consider some aspects of the interplay between the smaller icons that also contributes so much to the meaning and harmony of the whole. Each of the images that surround the central icon of Christ Pantocrator highlights a different aspect of Christian praxis or theology.
‘The Knowledge of Angels…’
‘The world of pure spirits stretches between the divine nature and the world of human beings; because divine wisdom has ordained that the higher should look after the lower, angels execute the divine plan for human salvation: they are our guardians, who free us when hindered and help to bring us home.’
St Thomas Aquinus
The representation of angels is one of the aspects of the Dodekaorton that I find particularly interesting. These occur in five of the smaller icons, beginning with the Annunciation, celebrating the moment of Christ’s incarnation. The Archangel Gabriel’s upwards and downwards sloping wings highlight the angel’s role as messenger linking the divine and human realms.
In the Nativity, the angels are glorifying God, and announcing the news of Christ’s birth to the shepherds. Much of the imagery in the icon, however, highlights the fact that:
‘ Jesus came to us in order to die – this was known by Him, at least, from the very beginning. Therefore, in Iconography, the manger in the Nativity Icon deliberately resembles a stone coffin, the swaddling clothes resemble a burial shroud, and the cave itself can even be said to prefigure Christ’s tomb.’ (¹)
As the author notes, the imagery is also that of ‘The Myrrh-Bearing Women’ which announces the Resurrection of Christ both through His presence in the background of the icon and the message of the White Angel, usually identified as Gabriel, to the women:
‘Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen! (Luke, 24, v-iv)
The White Angel in ‘The Myrrh-bearing Women’ also displays, in the placement of the wings, a celebration of Christ’s Resurrection which symbolises the role of the Resurrection as an affirmation of Redemption.
Similarly, the donkey or ass, accompanied by an ox, looking into the manger, fulfils Isaiah’s prophecy:
“The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master’s crib’ (Isaiah 1:3)
but is also the bearer of Christ in the Entrance into Jerusalem, again linking the image of Christ’s birth with the events of Holy Week.
Christ’s Baptism is regarded in the Orthodox church as of even greater importance than the Nativity, as it is a full manifestation of Christ’s divinity. As soon as Christ enters the water, a voice from Heaven announces, ‘You are my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’. The three angels, an image of the Trinity reiterated in the last small icon, wait with veiled hands to receive Christ.
The concept of the angelic Trinity of the last icon originated from earlier icons of ‘The Hospitality of Abraham’. It is an image that is symbolic in both Testaments, as the three angels that spoke as one in the promise to Abraham and Sarah in the Old Testament. This is considered to be a prefiguring, or early revelation, of the Trinity. In this particular iteration, the New Testament Eucharistic aspect is highlighted in the bread and wine present on the table.
The first three of the small icons are also linked by the related motif of the segment of a circle at the top of the image representing the divine realm; the three rays emerging from it symbolise the descent of the Holy Spirit. This motif’s being present in The Annunciation, The Nativity and Christ’s Baptism by John in the River Jordan, highlights the links between the three events by showing the immanence of the Trinity in the everyday world.
‘What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? (Psalms 8, v4)
The next four images (The Wedding Feast at Cana, The Feeding of the Five Thousand or Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, Christ walking upon the Waters and The Raising of Lazarus) show Christ’s divinity through the miracles he performs, but also his care and concern for humanity, highlighted in his response to the concerns of his mother, apostles and followers.
The following image, that of The Transfiguration, marks the beginning of the sequence of Christ’s journey to death and resurrection. St Thomas Aquinus considered the Transfiguration “the greatest miracle” in that it complemented baptism and showed the perfection of life in Heaven. The Transfiguration also provided a reassurance to the apostles of Christ’s divinity prior to the events of Passion Week.
It has always been an icon that has greatly interested Michael, and has been the subject of many of his works. Each time, he has brought some new perception to the portrayal. In this iteration, Michael has created monochromatic image of Moses, Elijah and Christ, but the darker, sculptural tone of the Old Testament figures is counterpointed by the shining radiance of the transfigured Christ. It further highlights Christ’s sovereignty, through his divinity, over both the prophets and the law of the Old Testament.
The final tier of icons begins with The Entry into Jerusalem (Palm Sunday), with its delightfully contrary- and possibly prescient- donkey turning its back on the welcoming crowd. The Imagery of The Crucifixion stands in stark contrast to this yet also illustrates Christ’s mission, with his redemptive blood trickling down to the skull of Adam. Despite his physical death, Christ’s continuing divine presence is shown by the halo. For me, the significance and strength of His mission is further highlighted by the fact that this is the crucifixion remembered out of the hundreds, if not thousands, of brutal crucifixions that took place in the Roman province of Judea in the first century CE.
However, this interplaying of images is not the whole picture – each motif has its own fascinating history. One example is the motif of trees and foliage, first seen in The Nativity symbolising the tree of Jesse, and thus highlighting Christ’s lineage as foretold in the Old Testament:
“A shoot shall sprout from the stump (tree) of Jesse and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon Him” (Isaiah 11:1-2).
A tree is then juxtaposed with an axe in His Baptism, evoking John the Baptist’s words to his followers:
“And now also the axe is laid to the root of the trees: therefore every tree which brings not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.” (Matt 3:10).
The trees in the subsequent images also provide information about the journey of Christianity to more northerly regions. The shapes and types often change from the middle-eastern forms to those found in Serbia and Georgia thence through to Russia.
‘In my end is my beginning…’
There is clearly a vast extent of tradition underpinning Michael’s Dodekaorton. However, the work brings it alive, rather than faltering under its weight. Each element is interconnected, not only through its image, but through the interplay of colour and light that illuminates the work as a whole. The golden background to each image, in conjunction with the beautifully differentiated gold of the haloes, contributes to creating an overall luminosity that evokes a sense of the divine, of the ‘Uncreated Light’ present in the Transfiguration.
Throughout the images, there is a dance of colour, an interplay of light tones with dark that brings alive the words of the Gospels. There is the dynamism of the vivid blues and reds of Christ walking on water and the contrasting monochromes and highlights of The Transfiguration counterpointing the sense of frozen time shown in the Crucifixion. The resolution of the whole comes through both the sense of completion inherent in the image of The Trinity and the centrality of Christ.
‘Till we have faces’
Watching this work evolve has been a fascinating experience of seeing the images evolve and change – a continual process on Michael’s part of re-evaluating and revisiting to create an overall sense of balance. For me, one of the most exciting moments was towards the end, when the faces emerged, giving a whole new depth and sense of meaning to the work. It is hard to do justice to the whole process – though I think these lines from ‘As Kingfishers catch fire’ and ‘Pied Beauty’ by the 19th century Jesuit poet, Gerard Manly Hopkins capture the essence:
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying What I do is me: for that I came.
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.
Kerrie Magee, January 2021
Kerrie Magee’s academic background includes an MA in Medieval Studies. Her professional life has been mainly in the field of Gifted Education. Her fascination with icons goes back almost 50 years and is still gathering momentum.
1. Unfortunately, the writer’s name is not mentioned. The quote is from:
https://iconreader.wordpress.com/2010/12/24/the-womb-and-the-tomb/
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