A New Icon by Michael Galovic

in Time for the Transfiguration

The Transfiguration, 2016, an icon 45 x 35cm, private collection
The Transfiguration, 2016, an icon 45 x 35cm, private collection
The Transfiguration, 2017, an icon 70 x 50cm, Sydney Catholic Schools
The Transfiguration, 2016, an icon 45 x 35cm, Catholic Seminary of the Good Shepherd, Auckland, New Zealand
The Transfiguration, 2016, an icon 45 x 35cm, Catholic Seminary of the Good Shepherd, Auckland, New Zealand

The Serbian-Australian iconographer, Michael Galovic, has very recently completed the illustrated icon of the Transfiguration of Our Lord. This is the third and last in a series of three icons of the Transfiguration and has been completed just in time for the celebration of the Great Feast on August 6.

It has been clear since the exhibition of Orthodox icons mounted at the Macquarie University Art Gallery in 2011 (reviewed in Phronema in 2012) that, though there are no signs of a uniquely Australian style of icon painting emerging, exciting developments are occurring, fed by the multi-cultural mix of Australian Orthodoxy and the influence of indigenous Australian art, that are giving Australian iconography a distinctive flavour of its own, while remaining unswervingly faithful to the iconographic tradition of the Church.
But what distinguishes Michael Galovic from most other iconographers breaking new ground, such as Fr Alexis Rosentool and Fr Arsenios Pantanassiotis, is that, with training in Western painting as well as Eastern iconography, he has been creating works in the Western style that are informed by the spirituality and techniques of the Orthodox iconographic tradition.

Having felt his way over many years in bringing the two artistic traditions together, he has recently, following a number of earlier commissions from the Order, created a remarkable set of four windows for the Marist centre at Mittagong, The Hermitage, to commemorate the Bicentenary of the Order. The windows overall are Western in style, calling upon such schools as cubism and pointillism, but at the same time profoundly reflect Eastern iconography.
But while ecumenically bringing the jewel of Orthodox iconography to the West within its own idioms, Michael has by no means been neglectful of honing his skills as a painter of traditional Orthodox icons. Following contemplation of the iconographic challenge of depicting the mystery of the Transfiguration, which from the sixth century on has been a major focus of attention for Eastern iconographers, Michael has been striving to bring a fresh emphasis to bear on the Mystery.

It is a mistaken view of festival icons that their primary function is to tell the story of the feast they are addressing. Particularly from the eighteenth century through the early twentieth, there was a tendency to pack every possible detail of the biblical or apocryphal narrative onto the panel. But the primary purpose of the icon of a festival is not to tell a story but to confront the viewer with the Mystery itself and lead them through the narrative to the deep meaning behind the narrative. Reading an icon is in many ways comparable with the reading of Scripture; one passes from the literal sense to deeper meanings that lie beneath the surface.

A festal icon has done its job when it has taken us into the heart of the Mystery which, while it cannot be given full expression in words or paint, can to a degree be grasped by the spiritual intellect. Icons are peculiarly valuable in this respect because they can take us beyond narrative (which of necessity extends over time) to confront the Mystery in its entirety instantaneously.

The gist of the story (told in all three Synoptic gospels and indirectly referred to in John) is simple. Jesus takes the Apostles Peter, James and John up a mountain (according to tradition Mt Tabor) and there is transfigured in light, so not only is his person suffused with light but also his garments. The three Apostles are overcome by awe and dazzled by the light, while in a vision they see the prophet Elijah and Moses either side of Christ. But while the story is simple the meaning is profound.

The Gospels tell us that the reason Christ reveals Himself in this way before His Passion is so that the Apostles will not be overcome with grief and horror by the Crucifixion and lose all hope. The Transfiguration is really the Mystery of Mysteries in that it draws into itself all the major saving mysteries of the Saviour, from the Cross, through the Resurrection, the Ascension and Pentecost to the Second Coming. Christ is revealed as the glory and express image of the Father, as God Incarnate, and hence gives the Apostles cause for hope that through His death will come resurrection, new life and a new cosmos. Through the Transfiguration of Christ comes also the hope that we too can be transfigured by the Holy Spirit.

Nearly all icons of the Transfiguration show the garments of Christ suffused with light, but not His actual body. What Michael Galovic has succeeded in doing in this exceedingly beautiful icon is to reveal Our Lord as totally transfigured in light, body, garments and surroundings, in accordance with the description in the Gospels. Portraying the Lord in this way is not without precedent but is most unusual. But more remarkable yet is the technique Michael has used to achieve the effect of total transfiguration, for the image of Christ is not just painted on the flat surface of the board but is carved in relief and gilded. Uncluttered with subsidiary detail, the icon has a powerful impact leading into the very heart of the Mystery.

The geometrical structure of the icon is wholly traditional so, though both interesting and important, we shall pass over it. The mandorla surrounding Christ in icons of the Transfiguration is often depicted as a nest of concentric circles moving inwards from light to dark, signifying the passage of spiritual enlightenment from the light of the created world to the darkness of the unknowability of the Godhead in Its essence. Michael Galovic’s mandorla, however, is much simpler and more directly represents the cloud which descended according to the Gospels and which represents symbolically the Holy Spirit, while the brilliant red background is symbolic of the Resurrection and of the Second Coming of Christ.

It is traditional to depict Moses (on the icon’s left) and Elijah standing not on Mt Tabor but on the mountains associated with them, Sinai and Horeb respectively (though “Horeb” and “Sinai” seem to have referred to the same mountain). This makes sense when we recall that Christ in Matthew refers to the event as a “vision”. It is then traditional in iconography to differentiate the actual Transfiguration, which the Gospels certainly present as an actual objective physical event, from the overlying vision, the comprehending of the event as a theophany of Christ as God Incarnate, and the presence of Moses and Elijah pointing, as the embodiment of the Law and the Prophets, to the Incarnation. In Michael’s icon, the distinction between physical event and vision is accentuated by depicting Mt Horeb and Mt Sinai almost as if they were artificial constructions.

Michael Galovic follows tradition in having each of the Apostles display a different kind of reaction. In his version, Peter (on the icon’s right) looks up towards the transfigured Saviour with arm raised. It was Peter alone who spoke, and probably it was Peter who was the source of the vision of Elijah and Moses. Under extreme religious ecstasy visions have been known to be passed from individual to individual. James (on the icon’s left) is completely overcome and turns away, while John simply shields his eyes, turning in on himself so as to contemplate the meaning of the event. Much later in his life, the Mystery of the Transfiguration was destined to permeate the whole of his Gospel.

Guy Freeland
St Andrew’s Greek Orthodox Theological College, Sydney