LECTURE on CATHOLICISM & ART ~ DANIEL MITSUI

Ecce Quam Bonum, by Daniel Mitsui

Ecce Quam Bonum, by Daniel Mitsui
(from Psalm 133)

The gifted and industrious artist Daniel Mitsui, a great favorite here at Korrektiv, has released the text (and illustrations) of a lecture he delivered earlier this month. The subject: Catholic religious art, and Mitsui’s approach to it as student and draftsman. This presentation is thought-provoking, edifying, and a pleasure to read. Here’s a taste, from near the conclusion:

You have undoubtedly seen [medieval 'drolleries'] in the margins of illuminated manuscripts: frolicking monkeys, marauding woodwoses, flirting peasants, anthropomorphized pigs playing bagpipes, funny monsters composed of various parts of men, birds, beasts and reptiles[...]. This grotesque, romantic, comical element is not limited to manuscript margins; it is found in almost every medium of medieval sacred art. [...]

This same element can be encountered in the worship of the medieval Church: a Festival of the Donkey honored the beast that bore the Blessed Virgin on the Flight into Egypt; during the Mass, certain responses were brayed rather than chanted. [...] Medieval sculptors and engineers introduced automation and puppetry into the church [...]. [An] example is the Boxley Rood of Grace, a crucifix whose Christ moved his arms and eyes and mouth by means of wires operated by a hidden puppeteer. For all that the Middle Ages can truly be described as a time of liturgical solemnity, monastic discipline, personal piety, scholastic disputation, crusading zeal and fleshly mortification, the faithful of those ages never lost their sense of humor or their spirit of romance.

I tend to keep the company of other traditional Catholics, and their reactions when hearing about these practices diverge; some think they are wonderful. Others are horrified, and see in them only a precedent for current liturgical abuse and artistic gimmickry. To my mind, they are very different.

To learn why Mitsui thinks they are different — and to help yourself to much more food for thought – click here for the lecture.

[Lecture link via Mr Mitsui's April 2013 newsletter, which is packed with art, including a commission for the American College of Surgeons; a preview of a forthcoming set of Stations of the Cross; and the Ecce Quam Bonum that illustrates this post.]

[For Korrektiv's previous coverage of medieval drolleries, click here.]

Site of next Korrektiv retreat located.

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New Clairvaux in Northern California. I don’t know from Cistercians, but they follow St. Benedict’s rule, so they can’t be all bad. Plus, they just rebuilt their chapter house – the one that William Randolph Hearst dismantled in Spain and hauled over to the States. Read all about it here. Plus: vineyards! Ales!

The Mad Monk

Up from the comments: Mrs. Darwin alerts us to this article on Dom Gregory de Wit.

I love the line from his mentor: ““You will not make great things but you will make beautiful things.”

In other news, The Anchoress once used the St. Brigid’s stations on her blog.

Today in Porcupine

Lickona missed this one as well, and Webb must be off smoking a cigar somewhere. So today the task falls to me:

A porcupine’s main defense against predators consists of keeping its backside to a predator. Get too close and you’ll snag 500 quills engineered to embed themselves deeper and deeper into flesh. A mouth full of these painful pins has caused many an animal to starve to death. In fact, the porcupine is so well-respected, it wanders the forest day or night without much hurry or fear. Few animals are clever enough to successfully hunt porcupines, though mountain lions, fishers, and Chevy Impalas have the most success. That mess of quills is equally effective against its own kind.

Whatever you do, do not follow the echidna link. And I don’t mean that in a ‘Ha! ha! Now that I’ve said something you won’t be able to resist following anyway!’ sort of way. This porcupine story contains enough sex and violence for the day.

My weekend on retreat at Prince of Peace Abbey

Oh, I do love me some Benedictines…

Favorite hymn (though the hymns can never quite match the psalms…)

The abbot kindly asked me if I wanted to try this out – perfect for the weak Catholic afraid of death…

The Seventh Station, the Second Fall:  pray to resist discouragement.

And finally, what sort of graffiti do you find on the wall in the bathroom at a Benedictine monastery?

It sure beats the stuff on the garage door at my parish!

A wonderful weekend, a genuine retreat.  There seems to be a pretty strong Benedictine vibe around here.  We should get sponsorship.

“The once-dignified portrait now resembles a crayon sketch of a very hairy monkey in an ill-fitting tunic…”

Her predicament reminds me of this.

Found

Concerned souls will be relieved to hear that a crow just alighted on the bust of Joseph just outside my dwelling’s door and dropped the expertly fileted exoskeleton of a desert locust at my doorstep.  A clear message that Cubeland Mystic is alive and well – I know of no one else who can manage it so neatly.  I can only imagine which of the world’s sins has been revealed to him and impressed on his soul that he should undertake so great a fast as the one he seems to be on, but I am glad he’s out there.

By way of marking the occasion, here’s a silly chunk from the screenplay for The Cloister.

SCENE:  MCMANUS AND RECTOR PREPARING FOR MASS:

McManus:  Brother Jerome told me that you and Tomaso did the chapel.

Rector:  Yes.

McManus:  It’s beautiful.

Rector:  Yes.

McManus:  Why don’t you let Tomaso teach painting?

Rector:  Because this is not an art school.

McManus:  If you think he’s dangerous, why do you let him roam around?

Rector (quoting from Job, almost to himself):  “Whence have you come?”  “From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it.”  (to Father)  Mind your work, Father, and I’ll mind mine.

[Read more...]

Korrektiv: Medieval Edition

The Means of Communication issue of Lapham’s Quarterly contains a fabulous collection of complains and marginal notes by the monks assigned to copy manuscripts in the era before the printing press. With their bitchy complaints—“I am very cold,” “Oh, my hand”—they insert themselves into the holy texts and often, in the process, disrupt the sanctity of the words they’re supposedly copying: “Now I’ve written the whole thing: for Christ’s sake give me a drink.”

[...]

Marginalia might include comments like the ones from our miserable monks, but also an entire free-flowing range of artistic flourishes and doodles that make up the edges of medieval manuscripts. “Once the manuscript page becomes a matrix of visual signs and is no longer one of flowing linear speech,” Camille writes, “the stage is set not only for supplementation and annotation but also for disagreement and juxtaposition—what the scholastics called disputatio.”

[...]

That these psalters and books of hours often contained sacrilegious sentiments right alongside their holy piety, it seems, was perhaps the point: “We should not see medieval culture exclusively in terms of binary oppositions—sacred/profane, for example, or spiritual/worldly,” Camille explains. “Travesty, profanation, and sacrilege are essential to the continuity of the sacred in society.”

[...]

A 1323 missal illuminated by Petrus de Raimbeaucourt [...] contains [a] picture of a scribe harassed by monkeys: while he tries to copy, they mimic him, drink his ink, and distract him. One moons him, an obscene gesture suggested by a suggestive line break in the Latin above: the word culpa, “sin,” is cut at cul, so that the line reads instead Liber est a cul—“the book is to the ass.”

More

Monk-y business.

McSweeney’s: “… in the style of Walker Percy’s Lost in the Cosmos

Bonus: Also mentions Thomas Merton.

We’re talking Snuggies!

The Seven Storey Mountain swept the country because, though we won’t admit it, all Americans have a deeply repressed desire to be a monk or a nun. Buying a Snuggie is easier than dealing with these feelings. Also, it doesn’t involve moving. Or obeying an abbot.

This is a demo store for testing purposes — no orders shall be fulfilled.