Holy Week with Giotto – Judas’ Betrayal II, the Kiss

Giotto, The Betrayal of Jesus

Italian, c. 1304-1308

Padua, Scrovegni/Arena Chapel

“ While he was still speaking,
Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived,
accompanied by a large crowd, with swords and clubs,
who had come from the chief priests and the elders
of the people.
His betrayer had arranged a sign with them, saying,
“The man I shall kiss is the one; arrest him.”
Immediately he went over to Jesus and said,
“Hail, Rabbi!” and he kissed him.
Jesus answered him,
“Friend, do what you have come for.”
Then stepping forward they laid hands on Jesus and arrested him.
And behold, one of those who accompanied Jesus
put his hand to his sword, drew it,
and struck the high priest’s servant, cutting off his ear.
Then Jesus said to him,
“Put your sword back into its sheath,
for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.
Do you think that I cannot call upon my Father
and he will not provide me at this moment
with more than twelve legions of angels?
But then how would the Scriptures be fulfilled
which say that it must come to pass in this way?”

(Matthew 26:47-54) Gospel for Palm Sunday 2011

Probably the best known, and most dramatic, of the scenes from the Passion of Christ in the Arena/Scrovegni Chapel, is that of the Kiss of Judas. It is frequently reproduced in general art history surveys, as well as in more specialized works. It is truly one of Giotto’s most masterful paintings, both as a work of art and as a work of drama.

Giotto, The Betrayal of Jesus

Italian, c. 1304-1308

Padua, Scrovegni/Arena Chapel

Giotto, Peter Cuts Off the Servant's Ear
Detail from the left side of the Betrayal 

In spite of its inclusion of many of the details from the Gospel story, such as the cutting off of the ear of the servant (on the left side of the picture), our attention is drawn irresistibly to the central figures – Jesus and Judas. Our attention is drawn to them by Judas’ great yellow cloak, which isolates the two figures from the rest of the scene. And this is reinforced by the sight lines of most of the spectators, as well as the lines of the clubs and torches that form a sort of spikey arc around them.

The Confrontation Between Jesus and Judas

Isolated within this field of yellow, and silhouetted against a dark background, the two protagonists of the story confront each other, eye to eye. The intensity of the gaze draws and holds us, Jesus grave and sorrowful, Judas seemingly angry, as evidenced by the line of his jaw. Although surrounded by other faces, it is the drama of this confrontation that captures us, as well as its psychological truth. For Judas, it may be his confrontation with a man by whom he may have felt betrayed and angry, for Jesus may not have been the Messiah Judas was looking for. This was not a warrior king, like David, who would lead the Jews to overthrow their oppressors. For Jesus, it is the calm acceptance of the will of His Father, following His impassioned prayer in the same garden. Whatever the reasons, the two men gaze into each others eyes, oblivious to the tumult around them and we are caught up in that electric gaze one of the most dramatic encounters ever painted.

It can be seen that in this picture, Judas no longer appears to have any kind of halo, even a smoky one. However, is it possible that the dark background of the picture is, not the rocky ground and trees of Gethsemene, but an expansion of that darkness. For, as Jesus says in the Gospel of Luke “this is your hour, the time for the power of darkness” (Luke 22:53).


© M. Duffy, 2011. Pictures refreshed 2024.

Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Holy Week with Giotto – Judas’ Betrayal I

Giotto, Judas Accepts Payment of a Bribe

Italian, c. 1304-1308

 Padua, Scrovegni/Arena Chapel

 

 

 

 

 

"One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot,
went to the chief priests and said,
“What are you willing to give me
if I hand him over to you?”
They paid him thirty pieces of silver,
and from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over.”
(Matthew 26:14-17)
 

This is the Gospel for Wednesday of Holy Week, in tradition known as “Spy Wednesday”. It records the deal made by Judas with the Temple authorities. For what must have been, at the time, a considerable, though not outrageous, amount of money, Judas was prepared to hand over the Master, the Rabbi he had been following for months, possibly for fully three years. What could have induced him to act this way? Giotto had an answer. 

 

 

 

 

 

In his Arena/Scrovegni Chapel fresco of the scene, Judas has a non-human companion or coach. At his back is a demon urging him on, even gripping his arm in encouragement.  Indeed, it appears that he may even be pushing Judas slightly toward the Temple official.  The demon wants to make sure that Judas closes this deal. While Judas receives the bribe from the Chief Priest, two other Elders stand to on side, although their gestures and postures make it clear that they are aware of what is happening.

Detail showing the heads of the demon and of Judas.

Again, Judas’ head is wreathed by that odd dark translucent or “smokey” halo. And, here, we may be seeing its source, for it bears a resemblance to the top knot of the demon. Whatever his human motivation may have been, Judas is clearly shown here as an instrument of the demonic forces that are the ultimate cause of the Crucifixion -- going all the way back to the very beginning, in the Garden of Eden.

© M. Duffy, 2011. Pictures refreshed 2024.

Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Holy Week with Giotto – Jesus and Judas

Detail of the left side showing Jesus with 

Saints Andrew, Peter and John the 

Evangelist with a 3/4 view of Judas, 

who is dressed in yellow.

"Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled and testified,
“Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.”
The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant.
One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved,
was reclining at Jesus’ side.
So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant.
He leaned back against Jesus’ chest and said to him,
“Master, who is it?”
Jesus answered,
“It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it.”
So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas,
son of Simon the Iscariot.
After Judas took the morsel, Satan entered him.
So Jesus said to him, “What you are going to do, do quickly.”
Now none of those reclining at table realized why he said this to him.
Some thought that since Judas kept the money bag, Jesus had told him,
“Buy what we need for the feast,”
or to give something to the poor.
So Judas took the morsel and left at once. And it was night."

(John 12: 21-30)

The reading from John’s Gospel for Mass on this Tuesday of Holy Week presents a somewhat different and very dramatic picture of the beginning of the “Last Supper”, focusing on the moment in which Jesus (1) announces that one of the Twelve will betray him, (2) reveals by His actions that He already knows which of them it will be and (3) rather surprisingly, tells Judas to go and do it.

Giotto,  The Last Supper

Italian, c. 1304-1306

Padua, Scrovegni/Arena Chapel



This is the moment chosen by Giotto for his own painting of the “Last Supper”, although in it Giotto is following, not the account of John from today’s reading, but the account of this moment as given in the Synoptic Gospels, such as the Gospel of Matthew that was read on Sunday. In the Synoptic accounts Jesus indicates that it will be the person who dips his morsel of bread into the dish at the same time as Jesus. And Giotto shows very clearly that Judas is indeed dipping into the dish with Jesus.


Further, Giotto makes a marvelous comment on Judas’ treachery. You will observe that Judas appears to have a halo, just like all the other disciples. But, on closer inspection, Judas’ “halo” is actually a wreath of dark smoke, unlike the solid haloes of the other Apostles. In fact, if you look closely at it, you will be able to see Saint Peter's beard through it.  All the other disciples have solid haloes.  

It is almost as if the smoke of his presumed eventual perdition already surrounds him. It may also represent a visual metaphor for the confusion and misunderstanding that is evident in the Gospel accounts of Judas and his intentions with regard to Jesus. Judas cannot see clearly, even as clearly as the other, frequently puzzled, Apostles, because (to quote a modern expression) “smoke got in his eyes”.

Detail - Head of Judas

It is also instructive to compare Giotto’s image to the same scene painted almost at the same time by Giotto’s slightly older contemporary, Duccio. Duccio’s panel from the great Maestà altarpiece in Siena Cathedral (painted between 1308 and 1311) seems to come from a different world. Duccio’s scene is actually the one described in John’s Gospel. Jesus hands the morsel of bread to Judas. However, his treatment of the difficulty of representing Judas among the Apostles is far less subtle. Judas is placed, with four other Apostles, on the opposite side of the table to Jesus. None of the five are shown with haloes, as opposed to those sitting with Jesus.

Duccio, The Last Supper  (from the Maesta)

Italian, c. 1308-1311

Siena, Museo dell'Opera del Duomo

Further, Duccio’s painting represents an earlier stage in the early exploration of indoor perspective space. While Duccio has created a spatial box according to the developing understanding of perspective, his figures and the table are handled in the same manner as in medieval painting. The table is shown from above, so that it appears tilted and the figures appear to have been “pasted” onto the space, rather than actually inhabiting it.

In contrast, Giotto’s figures inhabit the much simpler space. Indeed they dominate it. Further, the composition is more complex, with the center of attention, the group of Jesus, John, Peter and Judas, shifted off center to the left. The table surface is shown, as a table actually looks, so that it reinforces the sense of space. We see far fewer details of the place settings and food than in Duccio’s composition, but we have a greater impression that this is a real event. The only place where we can see that Giotto is still having some difficulty with creating space is in the figure of the last Apostles sitting to the right on the front bench. The support for the “roof” appears to pass through his head, instead of behind it. Still, considering the early date for this work, it is a remarkable example of Giotto’s genius, being subtle in composition, in perspective drawing and in psychology.

© M. Duffy, 2011.  Pictures refreshed 2024.

Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Holy Week with Giotto – Palm Sunday

Giotto, Jesus Enters Jerusalem
Italian, c. 1304-1306
Padua, Scrovegni/Arena Chapel

"When Jesus and the disciples drew near Jerusalem
and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives,
Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them,
“Go into the village opposite you,
and immediately you will find an ass tethered,
and a colt with her.
Untie them and bring them here to me.
And if anyone should say anything to you, reply,
‘The master has need of them.’
Then he will send them at once.”
This happened so that what had been spoken through the prophet
might be fulfilled:
Say to daughter Zion,
“Behold, your king comes to you,
meek and riding on an ass,
and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had ordered them.
They brought the ass and the colt and laid their cloaks over them,
and he sat upon them.
The very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road,
while others cut branches from the trees
and strewed them on the road.
The crowds preceding him and those following
kept crying out and saying:
“Hosanna to the Son of David;
blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord;
hosanna in the highest.”
And when he entered Jerusalem
the whole city was shaken and asked, “Who is this?”
And the crowds replied,
“This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.” 

(Matthew 21:1-11)

Today marks the beginning of Holy Week, the week that encompasses the pinnacle of the Christian year. During Holy Week Christians commemorate the events of the last week of Christ’s earthly life, culminating in the commemoration of the event that makes Christians Christian, the Resurrection.

The events of Holy Week have been portrayed in art over and over again throughout the centuries. However, nowhere have they been more intensively and beautifully represented than in the small chapel in Padua, called alternatively, the Arena Chapel or the Scrovegni Chapel, by the great 14th-century genius, Giotto di Bondone.

Giotto stands at the crossroads between the Middle Ages and the early Renaissance. While monumental in its own right, his work broke new ground and points the direction that art would take to its culmination in the work of Raphael and Michelangelo. In spite of adhering to the medieval formula of a flat background, Giotto managed to create a sense of spatial reality, giving his figures weight and life. There is directness of observation and, above all, a projection of strong emotions, which raise these frescoes far beyond those of any others of his own time.

Giotto, Jesus Enters Jerusalem
Italian, c. 1304-1306
Padua, Scrovegni/Arena Chapel

The chapel, which was a private chapel, attached to the Scrovegni family palace in Padua, was built around 1300, on a site used in antiquity as a Roman arena (hence its alternate name of Arena Chapel). Enrico Scrovegni commissioned Giotto to do the decorative frescoes, depicting events from the life of Christ and the life of the Virgin. The cycle of paintings on the life of Christ is probably the most complete ever done, including both the Nativity and the Ascension. It is those representing the Passion and Resurrection that will concern me this week.


The Passion cycle begins, as it does in the Gospels, with the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Jesus rides on a beautifully observed donkey, which is followed, just as in the Gospel narrative, by her foal, whose smaller head peeks out from among the disciples who follow behind.

Detail showing the head of the foal.

From the gates of the city (on the right) a crowd of men, women and children pours out. Some of those in the forefront wave palm fronds. One is shown removing his over tunic, while another, his tunic already off, is shown laying it under the donkey’s hooves. Boys are shown in trees, having climbed up for palm branches and a better look.

Detail of the crowd at the gates.

Detail of the boys in the trees.

Behind the serious Jesus, who is shown making a gesture of blessing to the crowd, follow ten disciples. Four of them have visible faces. The rest are evidenced by their halos. Since Jesus is reported in the Gospels to have sent two disciples ahead to make arrangements, ten would be the correct number.  The blocky-headed, bearded man in the pinkish garment at the front is easily identifiable as Saint Peter.   The beardless young man at his left shoulder is Saint John the Evangelist. The bearded, long-haired man at Peter's right may be Saint James the Greater, older brother of John.  Together, these three make up the familiar group of disciples who were especially close to Jesus and his chosen witnesses:  Peter, James and John.

Detail of the disciples.

The background for this and all the other frescoes of the two cycles is the glorious dark blue called ultramarine. It is created by grinding the gemstone, lapis lazuli, from Afghanistan, into pigment to be mixed with the medium (in this case egg yolks). Its use is interesting on two levels. It creates a sense of a more naturalistic background, more realistic than the previous use of gold for backgrounds. But it is also an indication of the wealth of the Scrovegni family, for, because of its distant origin and rarity, ultramarine was more expensive to use than gold.



©  M. Duffy, 2011.  Pictures refreshed 2024.

Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

New One On Me

Jan Gossaert, St. John the Baptist
Flemish, 1521
Toledo, OH, Museum of Art

This afternoon I took advantage of the Metropolitan Museum's holiday opening hours to revisit and complete viewing of the exhibition "Man, Myth and Sensual Pleasures:  Jan Gossaert's Renaissance", which closed today.  I had made an earlier visit but, on that occasion, the onset of back pain had caused me to cut my visit short and leave with several rooms unvisited.  Since then I've tried several times to complete the viewing, but been prevented by this or that.  So, with one day left, I absolutely HAD to get there. 

Gossaert is not one of my favorite painters.  Indeed, I find most of his work rather ugly.  But he is important in the story of how the classical Renaissance aesthetic penetrated the northern European countries.  At the start of the fifteenth century Italy and the countries north of the Alps, were artistically different worlds.  By the mid-seventeenth century they were aesthetically unified.  Gossaert's work is part of the story of how they got that way.

One of  the rooms I had not viewed on my earlier visit centered on images of the Passion of Christ.  And among the works on display were the disparate pieces of what has formerly been known as the "Salamanca Triptych".  As the wall cards (and catalogue) explain, a picture of the "Deposition" had, at some point in the century after Gossaert's death, been attached to two wings, presumably from another triptych (Toledo Museum of Art, Ohio, 1521).  The wings show on their reverse sides a typical scene of the Annunciation in grisaille, with Mary on one wing and Gabriel on the other.  On the front sides are two saints, St. Peter and St. John the Baptist.  When I saw the St. John the Baptist, I broke into a smile.  Here, two days after my post about St. John the Baptist and the Lamb, was another such image, and a new one to me!  The image here couldn't be clearer.  The Lamb of God sits at John's feet and there is no mistaking John's gesture.  So, I share this new image with you.

If you would like to see more of Gossart's work, please check out the exhibition website http://www.metmuseum.org/special/se_event.asp?OccurrenceId={E166EBFA-C573-4E54-80E8-42B4CCF0E616}

Light in Darkness

Advent wreath with all four candles lit

This post isn't going to be about art (though there is plenty of that to talk about), instead it will be about an Advent experience I've been having lately.

In these past two weeks of Advent I've been doing a little ceremony in the evenings, if I'm home that night. I turn out most of the lights, light my Advent candleholder (it's not a wreath) and recite Evening Prayer out loud. Once the prayer concludes, I turn out the single remaining light and pray silently by the light of the candles for a few minutes. In this age of bright lighting, sometimes overbright lighting, it is so easy to miss the metaphor of the Advent candles. We've forgotten much about the power of darkness and the even greater power of light.


During that first week, it was pretty dark in the room, with the only light coming from a single candle. The second week, items in the room became clearer. Now, in the third week, it is easy to see objects. I expect that next week, with four candles, it will be quite possible to see very clearly. And isn't that a wonderful metaphor for "the dawn from on high" for which we pray?

John Frederick Kensett, Twilight on the Sound, Darien, Connecticut
American, 1872
New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art

We grow closer to the light during these weeks, as we approach the commemoration of His first coming. Then we will progress through Ordinary Time and Lent to the desolation of Good Friday, until we stand again in the dark at Easter Vigil to wait for the entrance of the paschal candle and to respond to the deacon's cry "Christ Our Light" with our own "Deo Gracias".