In Theology and Modern Irish Art Gesa E. Thiessen explores central issues in the dialogue between theology and art, paying special attention to the spiritual aspects of a number of modern Irish painters. Those artists whose work she discusses are:
Mainie Jellett: 'In her search for truth and vision as a painter, Mainie Jellett became a seminal figure and leader of the Irish modernist movement ... Jellett’s work was based on biblical themes, as she herself was a religious and spiritual person. She was influenced by the work of the early Renaissance artist Fra Angelico, celebrated for his beautiful frescos, which gave an emotive and serene quality to religious themes. Jellett’s ‘compositions’, as many of her religious paintings were entitled, contain figurative elements, often presented in ambiguous, non-representational, symbolic ways, such as Abstract Composition (c.1935), housed in the Crawford Art Gallery, Cork.'
Jack B. Yeats: 'There can be little doubt that the dominant figure in Irish painting of the twentieth century is Jack B. Yeats (1869-1957). The son of an outstanding painter and the brother of Ireland’s pre-eminent poet, he would have had every excuse if he had felt overwhelmed by their combined gifts and as a result had failed to realise his full potential as an artist. And in fact Jack Yeats was a very modest, man, private and unassuming where his poet-brother was very much a public figure His rise as a painter was slow and though his early work has plenty of vitality, his great period as a colourist did not begin until the late 1920s, when he was already middle-aged. His work is a unique fusion of realism and imagination, of the everyday and the visionary, and his nervous brushstrokes and broken, irridescent colour were far in advance of their time particularly in relatively provincial Ireland.'
Louis le Brocquy: 'Contrary to a generally held view, I think that painting is not in any direct sense a means of communication or a means of self-expression. When you are painting you are trying to discover, to uncover, to reveal. I sometimes think of the activity of painting as a kind of archaeology - an archaeology of the spirit.'
'Like the Celts I tend to regard the head as this magic box containing the spirit. Enter that box, enter behind the billowing curtain of the face, and you have the whole landscape of the spirit.'
Gerard Dillon: Gerard Dillon and Mainie Jellett 'shared an interest in Irish legend and Celtic iconography. Dillon had visited the Boyne Valley and explored the monastic ruins at Mellifont and Monasterboice. He was much taken by the Irish high crosses and subsequently these would appear regularly in his work.'
'The artist held his first solo show in 1942 in the country shop, Dublin. Opened by Mainie Jellett, other works from this period are characteristically naïve and contain a Christian theme; Forgive us Our Trespasses, An Aran Funeral, and Dust to Dust. The images are depicted with humour in a simple and child like manner with disproportionate perspective to enhance symbolism often evoking a message.'
Colin Middleton: 'At times these paintings achieve an intense and almost visionary sense of union with the landscape, evoking its power, its rhythmic energy and its colors.'
Mary Magdalene and the Holy Trinity 'is one of the few of this time to make a religious reference in its title or subject. The titles of many post-war paintings used Biblical quotations which matched the emotional pitch of those works, but the works in this first exhibition are more ambiguous and witty in their expression of ideas.'
Patrick Collins: 'Patrick Collins’ landscapes are primarily influenced by his childhood memories of the rural surroundings in Co. Sligo. He approaches the landscape in a philosophical, ethereal way. He is not just depicting the land – he is also searching to capture the emotive memory and experience of a place. The landscapes go beyond the literal to present a dreamlike vision, an illusive quality, recalling how Collins felt as a child inhabiting the landscape. ‘In Collins’s work there is [a] constant and ambiguous shift between what is seen and what is known, what is present and what is absent, what is felt and what is remembered.’ ...
During the 1950s, Collins’ paintings focused on religious themes, affording him the opportunity to bring figurative elements into his work. He embarked on a journey from Dublin to Donegal to study the depictions of the stations of the cross in various parish churches. The paintings are simplistic and childlike in their treatment of the figure, telling the story of the crucifixion of Christ. Once again, Collins focuses on the emotive element of the story through compositional devices, isolated figures, sparse backgrounds and limited colour to create an atmosphere and mood. One of his paintings, entitled Crucifixion (After a Child’s Drawing) (1964), was a direct response to viewing his daughter Penelope’s drawing of the scene, capturing a child’s feelings and interpretation of the story.'
Tony O'Malley: 'O’Malley treated religion with respect, but was drawn more to a simple spirituality. He inherited some of his father’s West of Ireland pre-Christian ideas. In Callan, he loved the mystic Abbey well which was deemed to have curative properties.
“I’m a Pantheist at heart”, he said proudly. From an early age, he wanted to get behind the seeming reality of things to probe hidden meanings. When asked about his conception of God some years ago, he replied: “God is that ash tree outside, the birds singing, and also the magpie competing with other birds for a grub in the clay”. He felt it was important to be at one with nature. “Children have this sense of wonder before the school system kills it”, he opined.
This communion with nature and the spiritual dimension to his life informed much of his painting.'
Patrick Scott: 'Patrick Scott developed a type of Minimalism, using unprimed canvas together with tempera and gold leaf, in restrained, mathematically organised, modular arrangements, with a contemplative spiritual quality. He drew back from the machine ethic of the American artists who had pioneered Minimalism during the 1950s, preferring the handcrafted element of the application of gold leaf.'
Patrick Graham: 'Art historian, writer and curator Peter Selz ... says that Graham “confronts the viewer with drawings and paintings of shattering force … [he] makes us aware that great painting has a presence and a future.” Art historian John Handley notes that Graham’s work “addresses the timelessness of time, the repetition of history, and the continuous cyclical nature of silence, abandonment, and redemption in the creative process.” In the artist’s own words, “The silence becomes the painting, the painting comes from silence. It is the moment when painting is no longer an act of doing or making but of receiving.” ...
Graham’s inspiration is deeply rooted in the Irish landscape, in vistas and places that hold deep meaning for him. The Irish affinity for nature, combined with profound experiences of both oppression and repression, has led to extraordinary artistic expressions in poetry, music, and dance. This cultural and artistic milieu formed Graham’s visual expression. His work incorporates ambiguous symbolic forms and scripted phrases that resonate like fragments of traditional song and lyrical poetry which spring from a unique historical consciousness; through them he explores the elemental processes of life and the existential journey. Among the realities he acknowledges in a sensitive voice is the Irish religious experience, particularly of the Catholic faith, yet his work has universal appeal to those who struggle with issues of identity, freedom, or faith.'
Patrick Hall: 'The sense of religion is very strong in me, it's indefinable ambiguities, the timeless infinitude of space. My father's family was Protestant and my mother's family was Catholic so that helped. That also puts me slightly on the edge of society, or maybe I have chosen to be on the edge, but that is one part of my history that removes me from the centre, edges feed me. Gradually as I got older these things became very meaningful for me and have remained very meaningful for me. They were doors to transcendence, to stepping outside of myself, towards otherness. Religion I suppose is a kind of window to the sky. I did an exhibition of paintings of clouds and the cloud represents a kind of unknowing. There's a thing called the cloud of unknowing, so religion is about not knowing. Religion is really a bad word, inaccurate. Otherness matters more than anything.'
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Energy Orchard - King Of Love.
Patrick Collins: 'Patrick Collins’ landscapes are primarily influenced by his childhood memories of the rural surroundings in Co. Sligo. He approaches the landscape in a philosophical, ethereal way. He is not just depicting the land – he is also searching to capture the emotive memory and experience of a place. The landscapes go beyond the literal to present a dreamlike vision, an illusive quality, recalling how Collins felt as a child inhabiting the landscape. ‘In Collins’s work there is [a] constant and ambiguous shift between what is seen and what is known, what is present and what is absent, what is felt and what is remembered.’ ...
During the 1950s, Collins’ paintings focused on religious themes, affording him the opportunity to bring figurative elements into his work. He embarked on a journey from Dublin to Donegal to study the depictions of the stations of the cross in various parish churches. The paintings are simplistic and childlike in their treatment of the figure, telling the story of the crucifixion of Christ. Once again, Collins focuses on the emotive element of the story through compositional devices, isolated figures, sparse backgrounds and limited colour to create an atmosphere and mood. One of his paintings, entitled Crucifixion (After a Child’s Drawing) (1964), was a direct response to viewing his daughter Penelope’s drawing of the scene, capturing a child’s feelings and interpretation of the story.'
Tony O'Malley: 'O’Malley treated religion with respect, but was drawn more to a simple spirituality. He inherited some of his father’s West of Ireland pre-Christian ideas. In Callan, he loved the mystic Abbey well which was deemed to have curative properties.
“I’m a Pantheist at heart”, he said proudly. From an early age, he wanted to get behind the seeming reality of things to probe hidden meanings. When asked about his conception of God some years ago, he replied: “God is that ash tree outside, the birds singing, and also the magpie competing with other birds for a grub in the clay”. He felt it was important to be at one with nature. “Children have this sense of wonder before the school system kills it”, he opined.
This communion with nature and the spiritual dimension to his life informed much of his painting.'
Patrick Scott: 'Patrick Scott developed a type of Minimalism, using unprimed canvas together with tempera and gold leaf, in restrained, mathematically organised, modular arrangements, with a contemplative spiritual quality. He drew back from the machine ethic of the American artists who had pioneered Minimalism during the 1950s, preferring the handcrafted element of the application of gold leaf.'
Patrick Graham: 'Art historian, writer and curator Peter Selz ... says that Graham “confronts the viewer with drawings and paintings of shattering force … [he] makes us aware that great painting has a presence and a future.” Art historian John Handley notes that Graham’s work “addresses the timelessness of time, the repetition of history, and the continuous cyclical nature of silence, abandonment, and redemption in the creative process.” In the artist’s own words, “The silence becomes the painting, the painting comes from silence. It is the moment when painting is no longer an act of doing or making but of receiving.” ...
Graham’s inspiration is deeply rooted in the Irish landscape, in vistas and places that hold deep meaning for him. The Irish affinity for nature, combined with profound experiences of both oppression and repression, has led to extraordinary artistic expressions in poetry, music, and dance. This cultural and artistic milieu formed Graham’s visual expression. His work incorporates ambiguous symbolic forms and scripted phrases that resonate like fragments of traditional song and lyrical poetry which spring from a unique historical consciousness; through them he explores the elemental processes of life and the existential journey. Among the realities he acknowledges in a sensitive voice is the Irish religious experience, particularly of the Catholic faith, yet his work has universal appeal to those who struggle with issues of identity, freedom, or faith.'
Patrick Hall: 'The sense of religion is very strong in me, it's indefinable ambiguities, the timeless infinitude of space. My father's family was Protestant and my mother's family was Catholic so that helped. That also puts me slightly on the edge of society, or maybe I have chosen to be on the edge, but that is one part of my history that removes me from the centre, edges feed me. Gradually as I got older these things became very meaningful for me and have remained very meaningful for me. They were doors to transcendence, to stepping outside of myself, towards otherness. Religion I suppose is a kind of window to the sky. I did an exhibition of paintings of clouds and the cloud represents a kind of unknowing. There's a thing called the cloud of unknowing, so religion is about not knowing. Religion is really a bad word, inaccurate. Otherness matters more than anything.'
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Energy Orchard - King Of Love.
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