Sunday, October 2, 2022

Speak to Me Sunday: Caravaggio's Seven Acts of Mercy

Many of you know of my love for Caravaggio. During a free afternoon in Naples next week, I plan to visit one of Caravaggio’s most famous works, Le sette opere di Misericordia (The Seven Acts of Mercy).

Now, I am going to apologize in advance for my nerdiness. When preparing to visit a famous work of art (such as Michelangelo’s Pietà or Caravaggio’s The Conversion of St. Paul, ) I like to do extensive research so that when I stand in front of the artwork, I will appreciate it all the more. I truly believe that people find art and art museums boring because they do not understand what they see. 

And to understand a masterpiece is to be drawn in until you are flooded with emotions.

Of course, my extensive research also means that I have to share what I’ve learned. So again, my apologies …

The Seven Acts of Mercy (refer to the image below)

1.      Bury the Dead

In the center background, two men carry a dead man (only his feet are visible). A man is holding a candle (the only light source) and based on his garments he is a priest. The man in the dark colored shirt is believed to be the grave digger.

2.      Shelter the Homeless

Third from left, a bearded man with a scallop shell on his hat is asking for shelter. He is a pilgrim. The man directly in front of him is the innkeeper who indicates with his finger (pointing out of the canvas) that he has room and will offer shelter.

The scallop shell is the mark of a pilgrim and is connected to the story of St. James the Great (a disciple of Christ). Today the Camino de Santiago (Way of St. James) uses the scallop shell as mile markers on the pilgrim’s path to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Additionally, scallop shells are often found on baptismal fonts and often used to scoop the water over the head of those being baptized. 

3.      Clothe the Naked

The fourth figure from the left is St. Martin of Tours who is tearing his robe in half to give it to the naked beggar in the foreground. Above the beggar’s shoulder, St. Martin’s sword appears as a slash of white as he has just used it to slice the fabric.

The legend of St. Martin, a Roman soldier stationed in Gaul, was that he saw a beggar as he approached the city gates. Determined to help, he removed his military cloak and cut it in two and wrapped the beggar with one half. That night, St. Martin had a dream in which he saw Jesus wearing the cloak and telling the angels of the man who had shared it with him. St. Martin believed the dream offered the message that caring for the poor is like caring for Christ. Eventually, the cloak of St. Martin became a relic.

4.      Visit the Sick

The next portion of Caravaggio’s Seven Works of Mercy is the hardest to see, probably due to the darkening of the canvas over time. In the front of the painting and next to the beggar’s left arm, you will notice a foot, indicating there is another man in this section (his face is just below St. Martin’s sword). This is the sick man, perhaps crippled given the angle of his foot.

Standing over the sick man is the pilgrim in a dual role since he is painted as Christ healing the crippled man.

5.      Refresh the Thirsty

Standing between the pilgrim and the innkeeper is a wild, bearded man drinking from a bone, the water splashing onto his face. This man is Samson (yes, from Samson and Delilah). But this image references a different story from Judges 15 when Samson was fighting the Philistines and used the jawbone of a donkey to kill a thousand men. After the battle, Samson was thirsty so God opened up the jawbone and water came out of it to revive Samson.

Admittedly, Caravaggio’s inclusion of this story was confusing. He was meant to portray the seven mercies, or kindnesses, performed by humans for each other, but in Samson’s case God is the one performing the kindness.

6-7    Visit the Imprisoned, Feed the Hungry

These next two Acts of Mercy are combined into one image of the woman breastfeeding a man in prison. While unusual in modern contexts, the story was a familiar one of the time (Roman in origin) and occasionally appeared in other works of art.


Details to Note:

1-     Always in trouble with the law, Caravaggio took refuge in Naples after he committed a murder in Rome during a violent argument. It was during this exile that he painted this masterpiece.

2-     Caravaggio is known for his chiaroscuro painting technique which uses the contrast of light and dark for dramatic effect. His dark paintings usually contain a light source to draw the eye to important details. In this painting, the man carrying the candle provides the only light source, perhaps a metaphor for mercy as the acts themselves illuminate darkness.

3-     He received the commission to depict the Seven Works of Mercy for Pio Monte della Misericordia (a charitable organization) founded by seven noblemen of Naples in order to care for the poor. It is still in operation today.  

4-     One of the most important documents in the church’s archives is an invoice, dated 14 October 1607, for 400 ducats in payment to Caravaggio for the painting.

5-     The Works of Mercy are based on verses from the Gospel of Matthew; the only one not mentioned in Matthew is Bury the Dead (it is referenced in the Book of Tobit where burying the dead is mentioned as an important work of charity).

6-     While the Seven Works of Mercy are usually depicted in seven separate scenes, Caravaggio chose to combine all seven works of mercy into one composition, which became the church’s altarpiece.

7-     The work is divided into two parts: the top half is celestial (with angels and Mary with the Christ child observing the action below); the bottom half is terrestrial, or the earthly realm.

8-     The angel’s hand, reaching toward the lower figures, is a slash of light through darkness serving to connect the two halves of the painting. The open pose of his hand is associated with giving a blessing.

9-     Visible on the top left is the white lining of Mary’s cloak, which many believe represents the Holy Spirit who inspires the acts of mercy.

10   In short, the top half of the painting is the source for the acts of human kindness depicted below.


Sunday, September 25, 2022

Speak to Me Sunday: Standing Tall


(A little insomnia, a Broadway quote, and I was down the rabbit hole. Too much deep thinking with too little sleep. Coffee please...)

There is a line from the hit musical, Hamilton, in which the opinionated Alexander Hamilton says to the obfuscating Aaron Burr: “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?”
It is a profound question, one which compels one to explore our beliefs, morals, convictions, and affiliations. It probes our intentions and incites us into action. Most importantly, it inspires one to stand strong in a tide as opposed to being swept up in one.
It is a thinking question, and it cannot be answered quickly. Or lightly. What do you stand for?
The question leaves no room for obfuscating. To answer honestly and with conviction, one must have a voice that is not simply an echo of what is being said by others; furthermore, the weight of it pins one down, and to squirm, dodge, or even deflect the question is very revealing.
Conversely, one can broaden the question’s scope to ask this: If you stand for EVERYTHING, then what will you fight for? This, too, is telling. If one believes all things, panders to all people, and tries to be something for everyone … then what does that person ACTUALLY believe?
A person who is vague about what he believes is equally as dangerous as someone who believes in everything. Both go wherever the wind takes them. It is only when you have both ends of the equation—knowing where a person stands and knowing where you stand—that one can choose courage to take a step forward, or honesty to step back and reevaluate.
Society today may not be any better than it was in Hamilton’s time, but we can glean some lessons. In the election of 1800 Hamilton had to decide whether to endorse Thomas Jefferson (a person he never once agreed with) or Aaron Burr (his political adversary). In the end, Hamilton chose Jefferson, simply because Jefferson had beliefs whereas Burr had none.
What do you stand for?
Delve deep for an answer. And then proceed with strength, conviction and, most of all, understanding of others who are grappling with this very same question.



Wednesday, September 21, 2022

I love ...

 I love seafaring tiles 

and green garden doors 

and peekaboo views 

and houses on trees.



Friday, September 16, 2022

The Twice-Paid Compliment

It is a fundamental truth that we are not kind to ourselves. We are self critics by nature. We perceive ourselves much, much differently than other people perceive us, and when they try to be complimentary we do not listen.

I once attended a retreat that demonstrated this very point.

Scattered around the room were chairs arranged into groups of three. We were told to find a seat but that you could not sit next to anyone you knew. As it turned out, I ended up in a group with two men. We were then given instructions to jot down complimentary things you notice about the two people in your group, after which we were to share the compliments with each other.

This was so out of my comfort zone and I was beyond embarrassed before the exercise even started. But the purpose of the assignment was to teach us to not only hear compliments, but to listen. And to believe.

After the allotted time the two gentlemen paid me their compliments, and while they were so kind and genuine about it, I still felt out of my comfort zone and I was still beyond embarrassed. BUT, if I am being honest, they also made me feel good.

Several years later, I was going through some old papers and found these hand-written compliments from those two men. Reading them made me smile, and maybe because the words were written instead of spoken, they were much easier to accept.

Which made me realize this: if most people tend to dismiss a compliment, then maybe a compliment should be given twice. A double compliment, if you will. One that is half-heard, and one that hits the bullseye.

Mark Twain once said that he could live two months on a single compliment and, truthfully, there have been times when a single compliment changed the entire course of my day. It’s an easy enough thing to do, and when a compliment comes from a place of genuine good will it can do wonders.

Especially if you make it a double.

Sunday, September 11, 2022

Ode to the Storytellers

once upon a time

long, long ago

holding court around a fire

a story was told

what is this? they asked

what does it mean? they cried

but they listened

to the fantastical and improbable

ridiculous and laughable

and found magic in ordinary days

 

once upon a time

long, long ago

a told story traveled

to faraway lands

what is this? they asked

how wonderful! they cried

so they took the story

cupped it in their hands

planted it in their hearts

and made it their own

 

with music and dance

poetry and prose

the story became more

thank you! they said

for legends, poems

tall tales and fairy tales

for once upon a time

and long, long ago.


*from the files of very bad poetry by bia




Thursday, September 1, 2022

Reinvention

So many kind people have reached out to me lately wanting to know how I am doing now that Timothy is away at college. The truth is, I don’t know.

Everything happened so quickly. You live with someone for 18 years and then one day you drive them somewhere, and leave them there, and your husband then spends the entire drive home patting you on the shoulder because you cannot stop crying.

So yes, I had my ugly cry, but I’m fine. Really. It’s just been strange sorting through the emotions of not having a child in the house anymore. Yes, there are empty hangers in the closet, the grocery bill has plummeted, and it is quiet when Joe has to go out of town, but mostly I feel the need to reinvent myself because there is no denying that life now is different.

The last time I reinvented myself was in 2007 when I decided to start writing about family life and all the funny, crazy, aggravating, loving, inexplicable things boys do. Set within the framework of faith and my Italian heritage, I started my blog, La Dolce Vita, the Sweet Life with Three Sons. The blog opened doorways I never imagined: Steve Crawford published several of my articles in the Columbia Country News Times, I had an op-ed published in The Augusta Chronicle, I was invited to speak at The Sacred Heart Garden Festival, and I began working as a contract writer for Catholic Stewardship Consultants. When I published my book and gave book talks, the blog was the source of material for both. Even the idea of sponsoring the Girls’ Trips to Italy was born of the blog.

But if everything I write is grounded in my little blog and my sweet life with three sons, and if now my muses—Nicholas, Jonathan, Timothy—aren’t here anymore, what then? Who will I write about now? Will my life still be sweet? Will my days be as interesting or funny? Will I be as interesting and funny? These questions sent me into a little panic the other day. I mean, I already like to wear black and now I’m going to be uninteresting and boring?

Deep down I know this is a transition period and it is okay to feel different, to change, to shift a little.  Acceptance will come, along with the peace that this is as it should be, and it is going to be okay.

And it will be okay. Even if I have to reinvent myself.

(sketch, Chapter 2)

Wednesday, August 31, 2022

I love ...

I love silhouetted pine cones 

and tiny green seedlings 

and cows by the fairway 

and easy-to-find golf balls.