I am not religious. I do, however, consider myself spiritual, but I do not believe in nor do I adhere to a human depiction of God. Does that mean I am an atheist? Perhaps.
However, Religion and Spirituality have been integral to the collective human experience and are fundamental components of our shared humanity. Because of this, I have deep respect and admiration, in particular, for religious art from the Medieval and Gothic periods of Northern Europe. I am also fascinated by the art created by people from all the major religions as well as from Native Americans, Aboriginal Australia, Papua New Guinea, and Africa. Art that bestows great power and that explores the complexities of the human condition and our interconnectedness inspires and sparks great curiosity within me.
One:
The Mérode Altarpiece
Robert Campin, also known as, the Master of Flemalle, began his painting career in 1406. The Mérode Altarpiece considered his masterpiece, is a meticulously detailed artwork displayed at the shamefully overlooked Cloisters Museum in New York City. I became fascinated with this painting when I first saw it as a Graduate Student. Despite lacking a signature or date, the Mérode Altarpiece is widely attributed to Campin and his assistant. Scholars believe that the painting was started around 1425 and completed in 1432. Measuring approximately 26” in height and 47” in width, this artwork is relatively modest in size compared to other Northern European Renaissance triptychs.
What fascinates me about this painting is its meticulous attention to detail and symbolism. During my recent hike to see She Who Watches (which I wrote about here), our Native American guide took the time to point out numerous pictographs along the way, which all served as messages. Due to being faded and weathered and not knowing what to look for, it is easy to miss them amongst the landscape. Similarly, looking at Campin’s Mérode Altarpiece, it is easy to get lost in the imagery without seeing its numerous messages embedded within. This painting tells the story of Mary, with multiple symbols subtly hinting at the underlying narrative of her purity.
The central panel depicts one of the earliest versions of the Annunciation set within an interior. The use of mathematical perspective has yet to be fully developed, resulting in a slightly tilted and wonky round table. The room's perspective plunges rapidly, causing the walls, furniture, and ceiling to recede quickly. The Holy Spirit, represented by a bright light flooding the interior from the upper left corner, is symbolized by a cherub holding a cross. Within the room, we see the angelic figures of Gabriel and Mary. Mary is seated, reading her bible seemingly unaware of the angel's presence. The heavy material of her dress is depicted by thick folds and is highlighted in a star-like fashion on her knees. Among the objects on the table are a vase with three lilies thought to represent Mary's purity, an open book, and a snuffed-out candle.
On the left panel is a depiction of a man and a woman, assumed to be donors, kneeling inside Mary's chamber. The open door serves as a representation of the gates of paradise being wide open. The enclosed garden is adorned with exquisite flowers, each carrying symbolic significance related to Mary. Additionally, the background figure is thought to be a self-portrait of Campin, possibly portrayed as the prophet Isaiah.
On the right panel sits Joseph. He is depicted as a carpenter, diligently drilling holes into a box. Numerous mouse traps are scattered around, sparking scholarly debate about their symbolic significance. It is suggested that these mousetraps serve as messages illustrating how the marriage of Mary and Joseph was orchestrated to fool Satan, much like a mouse is deceived by a trap.
I have studied the painting at length and have seen it several times. We also have a small print in our bathroom, which I see daily. It isn’t the religious aspect of the painting that I love, but rather the exquisite manner in which it was crafted. I am engrossed by the intricately disguised symbolism and messages that are meticulously painted and woven throughout the altarpiece.
Two:
Nkisi Nkondi Figure
Similarly, I am intrigued by spiritual messages in the art of Native America, Africa, and Papua New Guinea, which I studied in college.
In 2005, during a family vacation to the Île de Ré, an island off the western coast of France, I met a Congolese man selling African art, and we started talking at length about the pieces. At one point, he said, “You know what these mean. Let me show you the real stuff.” He led me to a back room whose floor was covered with sculptures and masks. He said everything out front was for tourists, but these in the back were genuine artifacts. I focused on a Nkisi Nkondi figure from the Congo. We discussed it, he quoted me a price, and I bought it. For years, it adorned our house in England and later in Portland when we moved to the States.
Nkisi Nkondi figures are special sculptures created by the village shaman and personalized by their owners. Nkisi roughly translates to "spirit" and Nkondi means “hunter.” The owner activates the spirit within the figure by adorning it with various items. The figure I bought was fully energized, with two mirrored boxes on its belly. Inside each compartment would have been a blend of spiritual medicines that possibly included herbs, seeds, animal claws, human hair, and even earth from familial burial grounds. The mirrors are thought to enable its owner to see into the future and the presence of witches. The figure is adorned with multiple shards of metal, nails, and bone meant to give it prestige, drive away illness, and protect the owner from war and other hostile forces. Additionally, my Nkisi sculpture has a full head of actual hyena hair.
As with the Mérode Altarpiece by Campin, every embellishment on my Nkisi Nkondi conveys a meaningful message bestowed by its creator and owner.
In 2019, I decided that it was time to donate my Nkisi Nkondi figure to a museum. Initially, I wrote to the Portland and Seattle Art Museums. However, both suggested I contact the Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver, BC. The Museum of Anthropology quickly expressed keen interest in the sculpture, and my wife and I made the 315-mile journey north. Despite an intimidating and lengthy interrogation at the Canadian border, we were eventually granted release from the Border Police after a phone call from the Head of African Studies at the University. Finally, we were allowed to proceed and present our Nkisi Nkondi figure to the museum, where it has since found its new home. Currently, Anthropology students at the University are studying it. We have since been told they could determine its age with relative accuracy (estimated to be around 100-150 years old), identify the village or region it originated from (using wood samples), and maybe even discover its previous owner due to DNA samples inside its containers.
Religious and spiritual messages have significantly impacted art and culture, evoking strong emotions. Music is also a medium through which religion and spirituality elicit profound creative expression. Although I may not be religious, I deeply appreciate the uplifting joy often found in Gospel music and the ethereal essence of spiritual jazz from the 1960s & ‘70s.
Three:
‘Work & Pray’
Several years ago, I came across a jazz album I knew nothing about but bought it on the strength of its cover. What I also didn’t know was how rare the album was. Byard Lancaster is most recognized for his work as a sax and flute player in the free-form jazz scene of the 1970s. He drew inspiration from John Coltrane and collaborated with Sun Ra, McCoy Tyner, Larry Young, and Sonny Sharrock. In 1974, Lancaster traveled to Paris, where he crossed paths with French composer Jef Gilson, with whom he resided for 18 months and produced nine albums. Funny Funky Rib Crib is one of those albums. Widely regarded as one of the finest, yet rarest jazz albums to come out of France, Funny Funky Rib Crib was recorded in 1974 but wasn't released until 1979. Although it was reissued by the brilliant Kindred Spirits label in 2008, even finding a copy of the reissue is difficult.
The album is a superb fusion of jazz, funk, and gospel. But it's the second track that is truly breathtaking. ‘Work & Pray’ features the mesmerizing piano skills of Francois Tusques and the soulful guitar melodies of Francois Nyombo (Lafayette Afro Rock Band). This poignant gospel hymn speaks to both the divine and, perhaps, a lover, evoking a profound sense of transcendence with each listen.
The melody starts with heavy, brooding piano notes and Lancaster’s indistinct breathy murmurs as if exorcising love, pain, and weariness from his soul. The mantra of “Work & Pray, Trust in the day, just no other way," is sung repeatedly, while Nyombo's improvised fingerpicking delicately falls like teardrops, and the haunting feedback from the guitar and Rhodes piano envelops the air, reminiscent of the thick, lingering smoke from the snuffed-out candle in Campin's Mérode Altarpiece. The horns accentuate the raw emotion, intensifying Lancaster's gospel as he passionately professes his love and pleads for divine messages - yearning to hear "your voice" while toiling all day and praying all night, driven by his unwavering devotion to seeking a higher understanding. This sublime composition is an awe-inspiring blend of pure ecstatic gospel and sheer beauty.
The idea of Robert Campin working for many years on his Mérode Altarpiece, the possessor of the Nkisi Nkondi figure I once owned who had embellished it as their protector, and Byard Lancaster’s ‘Work & Pray’ all exemplify artworks that convey profound messages transforming these pieces into more than mere aesthetics.
While I may not fully understand all the symbolism behind Campin's painting, the significance of every nail and shard in the Nkisi Nkondi figure, or even if Byard Lancaster intended to evoke a higher spirit with his music, I am undeniably moved and touched by the depth of all three artworks.
Thanks for introducing us to more art, Michael, and to your experience of it. As with previous posts of yours, I appreciate the way you bring together artworks in different media and discover a connection between them. The only one I can come close to appreciating in something like its original form is the Lancaster, and I'm enjoying that right now. A lovely piece.
I enjoyed your triptych, Michael, three distinct ways across time and space that artists express a sense of the spiritual in their works. I felt a deeper connection with the the last example. The music moved me in a way the others didn't. I loved that depth of feeling and longing in the singer's voice and the intricate interplay of the instruments, all of which combined to create a a space of reverence. Another one to add to my Playlist. Thank you.