Object of the Month — Nativity Icon, 19th century

Icon painting, 19th century (FA001101)

The nativity scene shown here is a Russian icon dating from the 19^th century. It is part of a small collection of icons bequeathed to Brighton Museum & Art Gallery in 1967 by Miss Edith Overton Wybergh, whose father was the last English chaplain in Moscow. The word ‘icon’ means image.  In everyday language we often describe an object or a person as an ‘icon’, but in art history the word is used chiefly for an image created to aid devotion in Eastern Orthodox Christianity.

At the centre of the picture sits the Virgin Mary. In accordance with tradition, she is dressed in a blue undergarment and a red cloak. Her hand is raised in a gesture of communication. Behind, in a black cave (black symbolizing both hell and the grave), is the infant Christ. An ox and an ass bow down before him, as foretold by the prophet Isaiah. God the Father sits above, and sends down the Holy Spirit via three rays of light, reminding the devout of the Holy Trinity. Mysteriously, the image shows only two of the three kings approaching to present their gifts. They have been following the elaborate star of Bethlehem which shines above the rocky landscape. Below the kings, Joseph is being tempted by the devil (disguised as an old shepherd) to break off his betrothal to Mary because she has given birth to a child not fathered by him. The scene in the bottom right-hand corner shows the infant Christ being bathed. This scene has no source in the Bible, but frequently occurs  in icons depicting the nativity.

The icon describes not just the time immediately surrounding the birth of Christ, but alludes to events in his later life: the font-like basin in which he is to be bathed makes us think of his baptism. The tight swaddling bands look like a shroud and his crib is strangely coffin-like; these point to his death, as does the black cave in which he lies.

All icons are considered miraculous, but certain icons are believed to be able to work miracles. In particular, icons of the Virgin and Child have been attributed with healing powers. A legendary icon said to have been painted by St Luke is believed to have saved Constantinople from bring conquered by enemy forces on several occasions.

Icons still play a central role in Orthodox religious life. They are displayed in churches, particularly on the screen (iconostasis) which divides the sanctuary from the rest of the church. In the home they are given pride of place in what Russians call the ‘beautiful corner’. They are taken on journeys, and are displayed in processions on feast days.

In religious practice, it is not the icon itself which is venerated, but what it represents: the spiritual, not the material world. The fact that the icon does not depict the real world has resulted in its distinctive pictorial language: conventions of space and time can be ignored. Thus, important figures are shown as larger than unimportant ones, and panels often show not just one moment, but a whole series of related events. Because the image represents an ideal universe, there is no artistic license. The artist follows patterns set down in centuries-old descriptions and sketchbooks. A religious schism in 16^th century Russia occasioned a strict set of rules for the painting of icons, in part to prevent Western artistic influences from creeping in. Every aspect of the image is regulated; every gesture, every colour, has a meaning, or several different meanings. Colour symbolism, for instance, is complex, and each colour can have many meanings. We can take as an example the Virgin’s dress: blue is the colour of purity, but also of humanity; red is a royal and divine colour, but can also signify sacrifice.

The earliest surviving icons date from the 6^th century AD, and are housed at St Katherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, but it is claimed that St Luke painted the Mother of God during her lifetime, thereby creating a model for icons of the Virgin which is still in use. Also dating from the 6^th century is a legend that Christ sent to a contemporary king an image of himself, a cloth with an imprint of his face. This became known as ‘The Image not made by Human Hands’, and is often reproduced on the traditional wooden panels.

At various times throughout history, the veneration of icons has been forbidden, resulting in the loss of untold numbers of works. Sometimes the reason was religious: in the 8^th century it was decreed idolatrous to adore a physical object, and a century-long period of destruction (iconoclasm) followed. At other times the reason was political:  for part of the 20^th century, the church was banned in Russia, and mountains of icons were put on the fire. Many Russians who fled the Bolshevik revolution took icons with them to the West, and often had to sell them to survive. With the fall of communism, these icons are again eagerly sought by Russians, for cultural as well as for religious reasons.

Karen Wraith
Volunteer

Image of the Month — Hotel Metropole by Robert Goff, c1895

Hotel Metropole, c1895, by Robert Charles Goff (FA209267)

This atmospheric image is an etching from the early 1890s showing Brighton’s Metropole Hotel at dusk. Gas lights line the promenade and the bridge to the West Pier, creating silhouettes of people enjoying an evening walk. Look closely and you can see horse-drawn carriages on the right, perhaps waiting for business from the large hotels on the seafront. The West Pier is just visible on the left. It is one of many etchings of Brighton, Hove and Sussex by Robert Charles Goff, an artist based in Hove for many years.

Goff enjoyed travelling and led a deliberately peripatetic life, finding subjects for his art in Britain, Italy, Egypt, Japan, Holland and Switzerland. His etchings and paintings earned him an international reputation during his lifetime. He had two distinct careers: born to Irish parents in 1837 he became a professional soldier before he was 18. By the early 1870s he had risen to the rank of honorary Colonel. He retired from the army in 1878, married the same year, and settled in London for a while, before spending long periods in Hove, Italy and Switzerland. From around 1892 he lived in 15 Adelaide Crescent, and later took up a studio in Holland Road. Goff left Hove in 1903 to live in Florence but kept his studio here until the end of his life.

At some point in the twentieth century, Brighton Museum acquired the contents of his studio. This gives a remarkable insight into the work and working methods of an etcher in the late 19th and early 20th century. A selection of his work, including many local views, will be on display in a new exhibition in the Prints and Drawings Gallery of Brighton Museum & Art Gallery from 29 November 2011 until 29 April 2012.

Alexandra Loske, Researcher and Guide at the Royal Pavilion

Image of the Month — Gin Lane by William Hogarth, 1751

Gin Lane, William Hogarth 1751 (FA201258)

This is an image of London blighted by alcohol. The viewer’s eye is immediately caught by the figure in the foreground: a drunken mother who blithely lets her baby tumble from her arms. At her feet sits a half-naked, near skeletal figure clutching a bottle of gin and a cup.

There are other horrors to be found. On the left of the image, a wizened human face can be seen gnawing at a bone alongside a dog. Above them, a craftsman and a cook pawn their tools and utensils for drinking money. On the right of the image, gin is poured into the throats of a small baby and a man in a wheelbarrow; a blind man has his crutch stolen stolen as he stands. Death punctuates the background of the picture: a naked woman is lowered into a coffin. Through an open section of wall above the distiller’s barrels, a hanged man looks down on the wares that caused his downfall.

William Hogarth’s Gin Lane is one of the most famous and graphic depictions of alcohol abuse ever published. Surprisingly, though, it is not prohibitionist in intent. This image is not a call to ban alcohol. It is really an advert for beer.

Beer Street, William Hogarth 1751 (FA201259)

This becomes clear if one looks at its companion print, Beer Street. This shows a much happier scene. The people are drinking, but are healthy and industrious. A drunken man puts his arm around a woman and tries to steal a kiss but, tellingly, she still holds the key to her room. The pawnbroker here has shut up his shop and is surrounded by signs of prosperity. Significantly, all this industry and well being is accompanied by beer. Even one of the bearers of the sedan chair in the background is permitted to take a swig from his tankard.

Hogarth’s engravings were published in February 1751 in support of the Gin Act of that year. This act introduced the licensing of merchants selling raw spirits in an attempt to cut down on their consumption. Gin had become increasingly popular in the early eighteenth century and was widely regarded as a blight on the working classes. Previous attempts to raise taxes on spirits had lead to riots and other forms of unrest. Rather than price out the demand for  spirits, the act of 1751 successfully restricted their supply, and the consumption of gin began to fall.

But there was a recognition that gin could not simply be withdrawn from supply; it needed a replacement. Tea was commonly promoted as a benign substitute, but beer was a cheaper alternative. While Hogarth’s Beer Street may seem comically idyllic, it should be remembered that the beer of the day was not as strong as most ales and lagers today. It was certainly far weaker than gin and much easier to drink in moderation.

Aside from its horrific images, what is striking now about Gin Lane is that it presents a much more nuanced and balanced argument than that which came to dominate the following century. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, alcohol abuse was often seen as a cause of poverty rather than a symptom. Well organised and prominent temperance movements became increasingly influential, and alcohol was blamed for all manner of social ills. During World War One, future Prime Minister David Lloyd George famously declared, ‘We are fighting Germany, Austria and drink, and so far as I can see the greatest of those three deadly foes is drink’.

Prohibition was seriously considered in Britain at this time, but fortunately it did not occur: the United States’ failed experiment with prohibition between 1919 and 1933 has shown the crime problems caused by such legislation. In tackling alcohol abuse, most policy makers now pursue tactics of encouraging moderation and awareness rather than outright abstinence. In many respects, this is not dissimilar to the approach advocated by Hogarth in the mid-eighteenth century.

This post was written as a contribution to Brighton & Hove City Council’s big alcohol debate. There will be a live Twitter discussion starting at 3pm today. Follow @BHDrink or the hashtag #bhdrink. 

Kevin Bacon
Digital Development Officer