Some aspects of the sublimation of poverty in visual art
Poverty has been a theme of many artists over the last three thousand years. Before the rise of Christianity, however, painters and sculptors primarily endeavoured to capture a sense of ideal beauty in their depictions of scenes from varying Pagan mythologies. When poverty was occasionally the theme, it was conceived as something contemptible. In an article written for Poverty in Antiquity, an exhibition curated at the Rheinisches Landesmuseum in Trier, Germany, in 2011, Gudrun Stegen observed that “Archeological finds from Greece, Egypt and the area formerly occupied by the Roman Empire indicate that poverty in ancient times was considered abhorrent and self inflicted[1].” Frank Unruh, a commentator on the same exhibition, added that “…the poor were presented as comical dwarfs who played with monkeys that were as big as them, or as people whose physical malformations and ailments made them end up on the street[2].” In the Christian era, however, a strikingly new concept emerged: the Holiness of Poverty, a belief reflected in Jesus’ dictum that “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven[3]”. The concept was subsequently sublimated by artists as virtuous, honourable, (sometimes, as with the Franciscans, an occupation) and even salvific. By the early 1600s, the intent of artists such as Caravaggio, amongst others, was to ennoble poverty, depicting it as a state of body and even soul (the “poor in spirit”) to which to aspire. Rather than displaying a kind of self-inflicted financial injury deserving contempt, poverty expressed the deliberate rejection and distaste of temporal things, the antithesis to Greed. As Thomas Aquinas wrote “Greed is a sin against God, just as all mortal sins, in as much as man condemns things eternal for the sake of temporal things[4].” Through the Christian lens there was transcendent, transfiguring and inherent nobility in this renunciation of material possessions[5]. More recently, artists have depicted the poor for reasons other than the glorification of poverty. Van Gogh’s paintings from the 1880’s of the peasants of Nuenen, for instance, have a philanthropic undertone. His intention is to highlight an economic and social issue, not venerate an existence in squalor. Utilizing a more formalist approach than his predecessors, Van Gogh’s style during this period underscored the hardship of his subject’s lives. The best example of this is seen in the way he subtly transformed the facial features of the figures in The Potato Eaters (1885). As Jonathan Jones wrote of the painting,
“Their faces and hands are big, gnarled, earthy, as if they had been made out of the ground they dig… Above everything is the cartoonish red and yellow flame of the oil lamp creating a pool of warmth within the cavernous, mineral-grey space that represents night, terror, the cold world… They might be thinking of injustice[6].”
Picasso’s representation of poverty in the paintings from his Blue Period (1901-1904) diverges somewhat from both Van Gogh and Caravaggio’s approaches. These paintings were prompted by the suicide of his friend, Carlos Casagemas, and the misery of the figures mirror Picasso’s own mood at the turn of the 20th century. The paintings are, for the most part, inhabited by prostitutes, beggars and drunkards, rendered solely in the colour blue. While the artist himself is pictorially absent from most of these images, they have a profound autobiographical significance. Facial features and limbs are distorted in the direction of pain, and these images are unmistakeably personal expressions of the artist. And pain involves poverty. Motifs such as blindness or elongated limbs dissolve the subject’s physical relationship to the earth and by implication, his or her existence in poverty. And it is because of the long history of poverty as redemptive that Robert Adelman is able to state here that Picasso “… metaphorically allows his subjects to escape their fate and occupy a utopian state of grace. Some are afflicted with blindness, a physical condition that symbolically suggests the presence of spiritual inner vision.” The work of Caravaggio, Van Gogh and Picasso, are three paradigms of how the depiction of poverty changed from the beginning of the Christian era onward.
Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio’s consistent use of “street models” evidences poverty as a major theme of almost all his paintings. In the Supper at Emmaus[7] (1601), for example, the viewer looks upon the miraculous dinner scene as attended by distinctly un-idealized figures. The man to the left (most likely Luke) has a hole in his sleeve and the older individual on the right (most likely Cleopas) more closely resembles one of Da Vinci’s “grotesques” than some idealized disciple. While the countenance of Jesus is far from ugly, the painting was still criticized at the time for excessive realism. Giovanni Pietro Bellori (1613-1696), the 17th century biographer of Italian artists, attacked the work for it’s apparent “Lack of decorum”.
“Besides the rustic character of the two apostles, and of the Lord, who is shown young, and without a beard, Caravaggio shows the innkeeper serving him with a hat on his head. On the table there is a basket of grapes and figs and pomegranates, out of season[8].”
Arguably, Bellori has failed to enter sufficiently into Caravaggio’s aesthetic and logic. The innkeeper wears his hat, not as a sign of disrespect to Jesus, but because he does not yet know his guest’s identity. Moreover, this in fact imbues the painting with a sense of dramatic irony, for the viewer is aware of something that the innkeeper, frozen in time, is moments away from realizing himself. The lack of a beard can be explained by the artist’s interpretation of Mark’s Gospel (16:12) where Jesus appeared to his disciples “in another form”[9]. And this point leads more deeply into Caravaggio’s pictorial logic. While we more easily recognize the figure of Jesus in this painting today, Caravaggio’s contemporaries would not have immediately realized who the central figure was. The artist does this for a very specific reason. Just as the painting depicts the exact moment that the disciples, Luke and Cleopas, realise that their guest is Jesus, so too is the viewer at first uncertain of who the subject is because of his appearance in “another form.” His lack of a beard and his situation in an un-idealized environment at first disguises his true identity to the viewer, just as the disciples are momentarily unaware of the presence of their saviour. The artist, thus, parallels the shock of the viewer with the shock of the disciples. This correlation is reinforced by the viewer’s location at the head of the dining table, next to the life-sized figures. Emotionally and proportionately, then, there is a correlation between the audience’s experience of this painting, and the disciples’ reaction to the resurrection of their saviour.
Yet, Bellori’s criticism still reveals how unconventional and challenging to contemporary aesthetic assumptions Caravaggio’s approach was[10]. Patrons, it seemed, would not easily tolerate the inclusion of “excessive realism” in depictions of poverty. However, in this lies Caravaggio’s great re-centering of Christian iconography. By situating scenes of Biblical significance within the lives of the poor and impoverished, the artist equates their circumstances to Holiness itself. Caravaggio’s use of poor subjects was, so far as he was concerned, consistent with the wishes of the Council of Trent (1545-1563), which called for clarity of representation in the depiction of religious scenes. The Catholic Counter-Reformation’s (1560-1700) directive for painters was “…to be, before all other things, realistic[11].” Thus, while it was received controversially, Caravaggio’s treatment of his figures reflected his view that since the individuals from scripture were themselves poor, that is how they should be depicted.
At first glance, there is a strange irony in the depiction of poverty during the Counter-Reformation. While the Catholic Church wanted to reinforce the importance of visual imagery, a luxurious commodity in many respects, artists had to simultaneously promote Catholic values, such as poverty. Destitution, that is, was consistently represented through an opulent medium. Consequently, depictions of the poor might seem disingenuous and exploitative to 21st century eyes. However, this is again why I feel Stegen’s emphasis on the charitable sentiments of Christian iconography is somewhat misplaced in this context. Paintings such as The Supper at Emmaus or the Death of the Virgin, emphasized the glory of being poor. The viewer was not meant to feel sorry for the figures in the painting, hence why their use as subject matter might not be as contradictory as we might first think. The irony dissipates further when one looks at the subjects, not as people to sympathize with, but as individuals to aspire to.
Van Gogh explored poverty in his paintings of the peasants of Nuenen (1880s) for distinctly different reasons from his predecessors. The people who inhabit these dark rooms and barren landscapes are presented as victims of circumstance and there is an undercurrent of pity in almost all of them. In The Potato Eaters (1885) Van Gogh composes his image in a way that is similar to Caravaggio’s Supper at Emmaus. The scale is almost identical and the viewer is positioned at the centre of a squalid dinner scene. However, these are not the central figures of Christianity we are looking at, but peasants pushed to the margins of society. They are rendered with the same colours of the potatoes they are eating, what a contemporary art dealer described as “…brassy and soapy green tones.” This palette was inspired by the paintings of Francois Millet, within which “…peasants appeared to be painted in the colours of the soil that they tilled[12].” Moreover, the heavily textured surface lends the painting a sense of physicality, accentuating the arduous nature of the peasants’ lives. This is different from Caravaggio’s conception of poverty, which was, though made using models from the street, rendered realistically and with beautiful pigments.
The oil lamp placed in the centre of Van Gogh’s painting is a visual device, which functions on two levels. Firstly, it illuminates the faces equally, providing a solution to the compositional difficulty of painting five figures around a table. More importantly, however, it operates as a metaphor, the implication being that the artist is literally casting light upon the issue of poverty. The only figure whose countenance is not illuminated is the young girl’s, who is situated underneath the oil lamp in the centre of the painting, with her back to the viewer. By omitting her facial features, and reducing her to a mere silhouette, Van Gogh universalizes her for the viewer. She functions as a surrogate witness to the hardship endured by the peasants of Nuenen. We are looking at the scene, then, not from the comfort of our own homes, but as if we were there. This concept is reinforced by the spontaneous and unaffected quality of the composition, as though Van Gogh is documentarian first, and an artist second.
When trying to understand Van Gogh’s approach to illustrating the plight of the poor, it is worth examining his portrayal of the weavers of Nuenen. Louis Van Tilborgh, in his biography of the artist states that “In many parts of Europe they (weavers) were highly regarded as proud craftsmen with their own distinctive culture. This rapidly changed as a result of the industrial revolution, which reduced cottage industry weavers to a disadvantaged and exploited group[13].” Thus, when Van Gogh made the ten or so paintings (depending on whether you count completed works or preliminary drawings also) of the weavers, the profession was considered to be the occupation of the penurious. It was a profession, however, which Van Gogh, as a penniless painter who only ever sold one painting in his life, identified with. In a letter to Theo from the 30th of April, 1885, Van Gogh equates the complex process of weaving with his own difficulties in painting The Potato Eaters,
“When weavers weave that cloth which I think they call cheviot, or those curious multicoloured Scottish tartan fabrics, then they try, as you know, to get strange broken colours and greys into the cheviot and to get the most vivid colours to balance each other in the multicoloured chequered cloth so that instead of the fabric being a jumble, the… pattern looks harmonious from a distance… I’ve held the threads of this fabric in my hands all winter long and searched for the definitive pattern and although it is now a fabric of rough and coarse appearance (like The Potato Eaters), the threads have nonetheless been chosen with care and according to certain rules[14].”
Just as Van Gogh’s stubborn desire to be a painter kept him in relative poverty, so too were the weavers of Nuenen left destitute by their obstinate use of the recently outdated loom. He was not removed from the subject he was portraying.
The same could be said of Picasso’s paintings from the “Blue Period” (1901-1904), a series of melancholic and despondent images prompted by the suicide of his close friend, Carlos Casagemas. Though the artist himself rarely appears in these paintings, the impoverished subject matter seems to reflect Picasso’s own psychological state of mind at the time. The misery of the figures and, by implication, of Picasso, is emphasized by the almost monochromatic use of blue, suffusing the images with a sense of cold bleakness. The Old Guitarist, painted in 1903, depicts an emaciated Spaniard sitting cross-legged on the ground, strumming his instrument. The limbs are contorted and he arches his neck downward, as if the borders of the canvas were confining him within a small space. This tight cropping prevents the viewer from resting their eyes on anything but the guitarist, who with his bare feet and tattered cloak, seems to be the very embodiment of poverty. Moreover, this claustrophobic composition suggests that the guitarist’s existence in squalor is inescapable.
Though the colour blue, as I have already said, emphasizes the cold bleakness of the world inhabited by Picasso’s prostitutes, beggars and drunkards, it also works to elevate them from their destitution. As Richard Rosenblum of the University of New York states, “Blue is very much the colour of the moment and it was synonymous with the sense of the spiritual, of the ethereal. It was a world that had to do with the airborne, with feelings, with a floating experience, anything that said goodbye to the hard material facts of the 19th century. So Picasso’s blueness is part of a general mood and effort to join what is spiritual, saintly, melancholic[15].” Consistent with this is the depiction of the The Old Guitarist as a blind man, a motif used by Picasso to suggest his withdrawal from the physical world. The figure is not to be sympathised with in the same way as Van Gogh’s Potato Eaters. Rather, his destitute existence seems to spiritually empower him, much like a Christian Saint. In fact, the words of Francis of Assisi do not seem far removed from the attitude of this crouching figure, “What had previously nauseated me became a source of spiritual and physical consolation… After that I did not wait long before leaving the world[16].” Though through a markedly different stylistic approach, Picasso seems to sublimate poverty in a similar way to Caravaggio, as something holy and empowering.
It is interesting, finally, to note that interpretations of depictions of poverty are subject to constant change. Stegen says, “Poverty is just as much in discussion today as it was hundreds of years ago. However, what has changed is the way poor people are viewed by others.” Frank Unruh, in regard to the conception of poverty in the art of Ancient Rome, said that “It’s hard to fathom just how crass that society was.” What is clear from the way Caravaggio, Van Gogh and Picasso have sublimated the concept of poverty, then, is that their approach to the subject was moulded by historical context and the ripple effect that had on their own psychology. Caravaggio, it could be argued, would never have used “street models” were it not for the prevailing belief in 17th century Italy that poverty was next to godliness. Moreover, by rendering them with “excessive realism”, he was specifically adhering to the demands of the Catholic Counter Reformation and the Council of Trent, “…to be, before all other things, realistic.” Similarly, Van Gogh’s depiction of the weavers of Nuenen was shaped by what they had suffered as a consequence of the Industrial Revolution. However greatly notions of poverty and their depiction have varied in the past two millennia all, none the less, were made possible by the conceptual shift from Roman to Christian aesthetic values.
[1] “Art reflects evolving perspective on poverty”, http://www.dw.com/en/art-reflects-evolving-perspective-on-poverty/a-15195205, June 2011.
[2] “Art reflects evolving perspective on poverty”, http://www.dw.com/en/art-reflects-evolving-perspective-on-poverty/a-15195205, June 2011.
[3] Mark 10:25, The Ignatius Bible: Revised Standard Version – Second Catholic Edition, Ignatius Print (December, 2005).
[4] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, page 5666, translated by the fathers of The Dominican Province, 1922.
[5] Here we might contrast Stegen, who omits this aspect somewhat in his article, placing an emphasis on the altruistic qualities of Christianity that had come to replace the Roman/pagan contempt of the poor, a change in social attitudes: “Under the influence of Christianity, the poor gained their place in society based on the principle of charity.” “Art reflects evolving perspective on poverty”, http://www.dw.com/en/art-reflects-evolving-perspective-on-poverty/a-15195205, June 2011.
[6] “The Potato Eaters, Vincent Van Gogh (1885)”, https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2003/jan/11/art, (The Guardian, 2003).
[7] Luke 24:13-31, Now that same day the two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.
He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”
They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Clopas, asked him, “Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?”
“What things?” he asked.
“About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see Jesus.”
He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.
As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them.
When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him and he disappeared from their sight.
[8] “The Life of Caravaggio” (The Lives of the Artists series), Giovanni Baglioni and Giovanni Pietro Bellori, Pallas Athene; 2nd edition (October 28/2016.)
[9] “Supper at Emmaus (Caravaggio, London), https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supper_at_Emmaus_(Caravaggio,_London), September 2017, writer unknown.
[10] Compared to the disciples in Raphael’s painting, “Christ’s Charge to Peter”, painted in 1515, the figures of Luke and Cleopas seem impoverished and grubby.
[11] “Supper at Emmaus (1601-1602)”, http://www.visual-arts-cork.com/famous-paintings/supper-at-emmaus.htm#description, writer and date unknown.
[12] Louis van Tilborgh, “Vincent van Gogh: Paintings”, Arnoldo Mondadori Arte de Luca Edizioni D’Arte (1990), page 44.
[13] Louis van Tilborgh, “Vincent van Gogh: Paintings”, Arnoldo Mondadori Arte de Luca Edizioni D’Arte (1990), page 44.
[14] “Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh” Nuenen, 30th of April 1885, translated by Mrs. Johanna van Gogh-Bonger, http://www.webexhibits.org/vangogh/letter/15/404.htm?qp=art.theory
[15] John Richardson, “Picasso: Magic, Sex and Death”, quote by Richard Rosenblum, Channel 4 (2001).
[16] “Francis of Assisi as Artist of the Spiritual Life: An Object Relations Theory Perspective”, Andrew McCarthy, August 13, 2010, UPA, page 31.
Genocide in the 21st century
Three years ago the International Community learned of the detention of over one million Uyghur Muslims in China’s Xinjiang province. A memo leaked in 2017 from the Chinese government included the orders “Never allow escapes... promote repentance and confession” and “... increase discipline and punishment of behavioural violations.” It has since been revealed that China is imposing forced abortions and the sterilisation of Uyghur women. These methods, as they stand, violate Article II of the 1948 Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Genocide, which states that the “...intent to destroy, in whole or in part, national, ethnical, racial or religious groups...” constitutes genocide. In a mockery of the evidence against them, the Communist Chinese Party (CCP) has stated that the camps are for “voluntary re-education”, a place where Uyghurs can re-learn world history through a communist lens. Many aspects of the situation indicate that the CCP will soon take a more blatantly violent approach. Though state leaders in Europe and America, amongst others, have voiced their concern, many have remained silent. Xinjiang, it seems, is primed for what will perhaps be the greatest tragedy of the 21st century so far.
According to James Waller, a prominent Genocide Studies Professor, there are specific conditions which precipitate mass murder. Governmental legitimacy issues, a history of conflict and social fragmentation are chief among them.
“A state is more likely to experience genocide or mass atrocity if they have a history of identity-related tensions... or if the state had prior genocides... this is because a government may already have the previous weapons, strategies and power since the last genocide. They are also aware of how much damage they can do... if they have evaded repercussions in the past.” (James Waller).
To this point, violent suppression has been the hallmark of the CCP’s approach to dissentient citizens for the last seventy years. Between 1958 and 1962, Mao killed an estimated 45 million Chinese during the “Great Leap Forward”. Some estimate that in the subsequent “Cultural Revolution” (1966-1976) a further 20 million Chinese were killed. When, in 1989, student led demonstrations in Tiananmen Square called for democratic elections, the CCP instigated martial law and killed thousands of the protesters. It must be understood that there is a direct lineage and ideological continuity between the CCP of the 1960s and the CCP of today. Xi Jinping’s father held a series of posts under Mao, including Party Propaganda Chief, Vice-Premier and Vice Chairperson of the National People’s Congress. Not only does China thus have a history of atrocity crimes, but it is still run by the same government that perpetrated them.
Though the representatives of two-dozen countries condemned the detention centres in October of 2019, there are many who have remained silent and for a specific reason. China’s Belt and Road Initiative, its global web of economic influence and dependence, has morally hamstrung over one hundred nations, none of whom wish to upset the CCP for fear of economic reprisals. In addition to this, Xinjiang Province, which is situated in the North Western corner of China, is the gateway to the Belt Road and destabilisation in this region would cripple the economic interests of signees to the agreement. The suppression of the Uyghur population consequently benefits more countries than just China.
On July 9th of 2020, the United States placed economic sanctions on several members of China’s Politburo, a White House official saying “The United States calls upon the world to stand against the CCP’s acts against its own minority communities in Xinjiang, including mass arbitrary detention, forced labour, religious persecution, and forced birth control and sterilisation.”
As recently as July 22nd, America placed further sanctions on Chinese companies that, through the forced labour of detained Uyghurs, make products for Apple, Nike and BMW, amongst 80 others. Despite this public condemnation the situation in Xinjiang has not generated significant traction on media platforms. It is perplexing that there is not a movement comparable to the BLM campaign for the Uyghurs. Where is the public outrage?
Part of the problem here lies in the strange phenomenon of the West’s insensitivity to any vices but its own. It is why you hear people complain about the treatment of women in First World workplaces, but rarely about the forced genital mutilation of 200 million women throughout Africa, Asia and the Middle East. It is why Australians will march in protest for a victim of police brutality in America but not for one million Uyghurs detained in China. The World has demonstrated the power of protest over the last two months. Where are the protests for the Uyghurs? In an essay defending China’s handling of the Coronavirus outbreak, NSW Labor MP Shaoquett Moselmane wrote “Some mainstream media have bred and spread... racial viruses in our multicultural community with the purpose of inciting hatred... Today, media xenophobia and full-scale war against China have become the norm.”
Moselmane’s words are characteristic of many in the West who actively defend the CCP and attack its critics with mis-accusations of racism.
The situation, as it stands, is intolerable. More than 100 countries refuse to oppose the CCP for fear of economic retaliation. The public dialogue and media coverage in every other country has skewed their estimation of the situation. China must be held accountable for their actions in Xinjiang. If the actions of state leaders in the West are not compounded with pressure from their constituencies then we may look back, as in 1945, and wonder why we did nothing. It is fitting that, this year marking the seventy- fifth anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, one concludes with the words “Never, never and never again”.
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” – Martin Luther King
For more information on the situation in Xinjiang, click here to listen to Julius’ conversation with Rayhangul Abliz.