"Let books be your dining table, / And you shall be full of delights. / Let them be your
mattress,/
And you shall sleep restful nights" (St. Ephraim the Syrian).


Showing posts with label Leslie Brubaker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leslie Brubaker. Show all posts

Friday, September 12, 2014

Portraits and Icons

With students in my iconography class this semester, I'm finishing up Leslie Brubaker's useful and accessible Inventing Byzantine Iconoclasm and she concludes in there by noting that we can finally understand the defeat of Byzantine iconoclasm by returning once more to a theology of the Incarnation, but also to attending carefully to Byzantine understandings of representation, and the "middle place" they occupied. A recent study picks up on this central notion of representation: Katherine Marsengill, Portraits and Icons: Between Reality and Spirituality in Byzantine Art (Brepols, 2013), 463pp.

About this book we are told: 
This book examines the phenomena of portraits and icons from late antiquity until the end of the Byzantine period, and the cultural and theological perceptions that guided its reception. This book examines the phenomena of portraits and icons, and spans from late antiquity through the end of the Byzantine period. Engaging a wide range of material, it addresses persistent themes in the creation of a distinctly Christianized portraiture while analyzing the cultural and theological perceptions that guided its reception. Christian Rome inherited from antiquity its traditions and beliefs regarding portraits. Though altered for its new Christian context, these perceptions did not disappear. This study proves that within Christian portraiture, the icon is not reserved for saints alone. Instead, one must imagine the Byzantine world as one where sacred and secular art intermingled, and portraits of Christ and the saints, emperors, bishops, and holy men existed side by side in visual messages of hierarchal authority. Indeed, in the portrayal of power and holiness, there existed a range of images that can be classified as icons. Certain individuals of high-ranking status, though not saints, were portrayed in ways that recall images of saints because their spiritual or divine authority ranked them closer to God. Their positions further up the hierarchy enabled them to help others in their spiritual ascent and daily needs. Viewers in turn understood these elevated members of their community to be efficacious intercessors and their portraits to be worthy of veneration.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Iconoclasms Past and Present

With a colleague, an art historian expert in Renaissance Roman Catholic art, especially in Italy, I'm giving a lecture next month on "iconoclasms past and present." One of the people I'm drawing on, of course, is Leslie Brubaker, co-editor of a recent book: Stacy Boldrick, Leslie Brubaker et al, eds., Striking Images, Iconoclasms Past and Present (Ashgate, 2013), 236pp.

About this book we are told:
All cultures make, and break, images. Striking Images, Iconoclasms Past and Present explores how and why people have made and modified images and other cultural material from pre-history into the 21st century. With its impressive chronological sweep and disciplinary breadth, this is the first book about iconoclasm (the breaking of images) and the transformation of broader sets of signs that includes contributions from archaeologists, curators, and museum conservators as well as historians of art, literature and religious studies. The chapters examine themes critical to the study of iconoclasm: violence, punishment, memory, intentionality, ruins and relics and their survival. The conclusion shows how cross-disciplinary debate amongst the contributors informed Tate Britain's 'Art Under Attack' exhibition (2013) and addresses the challenges iconoclasm presents to the modern museum.By juxtaposing objects and places usually considered in isolation, Striking Images raises provocative questions about our understandings of cross-cultural differences and the value of representational objects from the broken swords of pre-historical bog graves to the Bamiyan Buddhas and contemporary art. Are any such objects ever 'finished', or are they simply subject to constant transformation? In dialogue with each other, the essays consider this question and expand the field of iconoclasm - and cultural - studies.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Byzantine Iconoclasm

Leslie Brubaker, director of the Centre for Byzantine, Ottoman, and Modern Greek Studies at the University of Birmingham in England, has emerged as one of the top scholars today (if not the scholar) of Byzantine iconoclasm. I've just started reading her most recent work, Inventing Byzantine Iconoclasm (Bristol Classic, 2012), 160pp. and even before finishing it I want to draw attention to it. Indeed, I'm already thinking it would make an excellent book for students in survey courses on iconography, and to that end will likely adopt the text when I teach my course on icons next year.

About this book the publisher tells us:
Byzantine 'iconoclasm' is famous and has influenced iconoclast movements from the English Reformation and French Revolution to Taliban, but it has also been woefully misunderstood; this book shows how and why the debate about images was more complicated, and more interesting, than it has been presented in the past. It explores how icons came to be so important, who opposed them, and how the debate about images played itself out over the years between c. 680 and 850. Many widely accepted assumptions about 'iconoclasm' - that it was an imperial initiative that resulted in widespread destruction of images, that the major promoters of icon veneration were monks, and that the era was one of cultural stagnation - are shown to be incorrect. Instead, the years of the image debates saw technological advances and intellectual shifts that, coupled with a growing economy, concluded with the emergence of medieval Byzantium as a strong and stable empire.
The book, as Brubaker frankly admits in the preface, distills the research of her earlier works into a more accessible format. She begins by noting that in this present work she will assume nothing, and to that end sets off straightaway noting that almost all of us today uses the word "icon" all the time given the ubiquity of computers, tablets, and cell phones, but we do not know the long historical roots of that word; similarly, "iconoclast" is frequently found in journalism today, though it is a very recent invention and often used to mean something different from those figures of the seventh to ninth centuries who went about smashing icons, whitewashing them, or gouging their eyes out. And then of course there is the whole notion of "Byzantine," a term nobody ever used prior to Gibbon because those so designated considered themselves Romans.

The text itself contains such brief definitions of terms, and is written in an accessible way, eschewing a heavy reliance on footnotes or jargon, and thus making the book, it seems to me, a good introduction to those with little to no background in the area.

Brubaker has authored other books on the topic, including, with John Haldon, the massive 2011 tome, Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era, c.680-850: A History (Cambridge UP), 944pp. I drew attention to this book's details here.
Cambridge University Press, in 2008, also published her Vision and Meaning in Ninth-Century Byzantium: Image as Exegesis in the Homilies of Gregory of Nazianzus, about which we are told:
This book centers on the copy of the Homilies of Gregory of Nazianzus produced in Constantinople around 880 for the emperor Basil I as a gift from the patriarch Photios. The manuscript includes forty-six full page miniatures, most of which do not directly illustrate the text they accompany, but instead provide a visual commentary. Vision and Meaning in Ninth-Century Byzantium deals with how such communication worked, and examines the types of messages that pictures could convey in ninth-century Byzantium.
Finally, for the true scholar of iconoclasm, there is the invaluable (if not inexpensive) collection co-authored once again with Haldon: Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era (C. 680-850): The Sources: An Annotated Survey.

As I make my way through Inventing Byzantine Iconoclasm I will post more thoughts. But it is, as I say, a very good introduction to the area. And an added, and not insignificant, bonus is that this book is easily the most affordable of all her works in the area.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Inventing Byzantine Iconoclasm

Leslie Brubaker, whose collaboration with John Haldon on another book earlier this year on Byzantine iconoclasm I discussed here, has another book out this month: Inventing Byzantine Iconoclasm (London: Duckworth, 2011), 160pp.
About this book the publisher tells us:
Byzantine ‘iconoclasm’ is famous and has influenced iconoclast movements from the English Reformation and French Revolution to Taliban, but it has also been woefully misunderstood: this book shows how and why the debate about images was more complicated, and more interesting, than it has been presented in the past. It explores how icons came to be so important, who opposed them, and how the debate about images played itself out over the years between c. 680 and 850. Many widely accepted assumptions about ‘iconoclasm’ – that it was an imperial initiative that resulted in widespread destruction of images, that the major promoters of icon veneration were monks, and that the era was one of cultural stagnation – are shown to be incorrect. Instead, the years of the image debates saw technological advances and intellectual shifts that, coupled with a growing economy, concluded with the emergence of medieval Byzantium as a strong and stable empire.
I look forward to seeing this expertly reviewed in the new year.
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