It isn’t a coincidence that the very last thing we ever expect to see in church is modern art or an abstract painting, such as a blank page, a single brick, or splashes of paint, as some sort of “intellectual” revelation to massage one’s ego. Why? Many of us would immediately answer that it just doesn’t belong there, and they are right, it doesn’t.
Since the Renaissance, realistic art has played a leading role in education, and particularly Christian education. Whether it is in the Bible, churches, or Christian publications, an illustrated history of Christianity has been presented by realistic and life-like images, those that the viewer can relate to and understand. The impact of seeing a realistic depiction has been known and unquestionably obvious for centuries.
Christian thinkers, writers, and sacred artist realists are all theologians in their respective disciplines. The word “theology” is comprised of two Greek words, combined to mean the study of God; religious faith, practice, and experience in God’s relation to the world.
A strong realistic work of art can clearly convey a theological message, materialize the word of God, and serve as a powerful vehicle of communication to the people. Hence, artist theologians such as Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo and other Renaissance masters, painted religious works to educate, uplift, and strengthen faith.
What an Artist Is
Today, in times of relativism, anyone can be labeled an “artist,” such as a cook, a karate expert, a dentist, a butcher, or anyone else. The term artist has lost its sacred meaning. We often hear from the defenders of modernism that “art can be anything and anything can be art.” However, this just does not go well with our Christian heritage and culture, and portraying the Blessed Mother as a chaotic splash of paint or a deformed piece of sculpture would stand against our visual perception of the mother of Christ and, in general, Christian teachings about the sacredness of life and the beauty of creation.
A story comes to mind about a family of four children, driving on a road, along the fields with tree groves and rivers passing by. They were playing a game where each child was to name the best, in their opinion, artist in the world. One child said it was Picasso, another child mentioned Van Gogh, then the third child named Monet, and the fourth child sat quietly looking out of the car window and admiring the nature flying by. Then he said, “Look at the sun and the birds and clouds in the blue sky, and the shapes and colors of the leaves and all the different trees. I think that the best artist in the world is God, who created it all.”
Indeed, no one ever can create anything better than the masterpiece that he created. As an artist myself, I often think of that story, realizing that we artistic realists are trying to reproduce the beauty of God’s creation on our canvases and, as artist theologians, we explore the nature of the divine. That is what we do.
We know that we will never be as good as God in his skill, but at least we try to get as close as possible to that masterful perfection. In other words, we treasure and glorify the creation of life and its beauty. We go to schools and embark in traditional training of direct communication with nature to study all the “sciences in art,” as described by Michelangelo, Raphael, and many other great masters after them. We strive to enhance our skills in drawing, because realistic art is the only kind of art that requires skill, especially when it comes to exploring and capturing life in all its beauty and complexity, in the way it is and without exaggeration.
I was fortunate to have received the core of such traditional training and, unlike many debaters out there who are experts at expressing their opinions about art, I rely on my credentials which give me artistic license, if you will, to support my remarks.
A child prodigy, I painted my first portrait at age 4. I began my formal 16-year (1974–1990) art education at the age of 9 and continued it at the special art lyceum for gifted children, followed by the doctoral levels of study at the renowned Surikov Art Institute, all under the Russian Academy of Arts (founded in 1757), which recently elected me as the honorary foreign lifetime academician.
The Danger of Relativism
Teaching children through relativism’s art is where the damage to the mind begins, resulting in total confusion of thinking: If this one is a masterpiece and this one is also a masterpiece, what example should I follow? But in reality, it isn’t that complicated, as long as we remember that we live in a world of contrasts: pluses versus minuses, light versus dark, beauty versus ugliness.The concepts of relativism are based on questioning what is already known, but what if it questions the moral values that have helped humanity survive throughout its existence? Modern art goes hand in hand with relativism, where common moral sense is demonized and instead choice is enlightened and socially acceptable, often tasteless, unethical, and even criminal behaviors such as abortion and euthanasia are championed as rights, choices, privileges, and freedoms of expression.
So, here is the question: As moral relativism, the fundamental element in modernism in art, where God’s perfect form in human anatomy and nature is broken and defamed, and death and ugliness are celebrated over life and beauty, isn’t it the tool of the devil?
The answer is obvious.
I would like to expand further and use Genesis Chapter 1, as the basis for the moral value of realistic painting and its vital role in following God’s commandments and in promoting and preserving life as he created it. In Genesis Chapter 1, it says that God created heaven and earth when the earth was without form or shape and in darkness. He separated light from darkness, and at the end of each day, “God saw it was good,” hence, God saw goodness.
Modern critics of the school of the Renaissance and realism in general, claim that there is no creativity in depicting man or nature in its true form, yet that is exactly what God did in his creation of heaven and earth, nature and all beings. God created the template, the blueprint of realism in art, where light and dark are separated in tonal values, and those who are familiar with the traditional school of art know that study of tonal values in nature is the fundamental principle of realism. After the viewer sees the realistic painter’s work, they become enlightened and see goodness, as God did after each stage of his creation.
They see goodness also in the most tragic and sad paintings, such as Christ on the cross and where a painting depicts pain and suffering. These will move us to compassion and love. Realism is prayer, gratitude, honoring God’s creation. This isn’t the case in the inherent pessimism of modern art, the art of ugliness and death, where the future doesn’t exist.
Artistic talent is often referred to as a “gift from God” and should be treasured as one and not taken for granted. For an artist, it also comes with sacred responsibilities, as the mission of visual art is not to celebrate the selfish expression of one’s depressed feelings by primitive means. It must propagate goodness and beauty and not evil’s ugliness. And yes, even the horrors of war and devastation can be portrayed with signs of hope that help us get through difficult times, so that goodness will eventually prevail.
Art must educate in a positive way, and the artists have this very moral obligation before their viewers and God himself, who gave them talent.
“The works of art speak of their authors,” Pope John Paul II said.
Resurrection of Realism
In the cataclysm of today’s debates and what is happening in the arts, I decided to create this work and my original composition depicted in this article. The angelic young child in the center represents the beauty, innocence, and purity of realistic art.Since the mid-1950s, realistic art has been oppressed by shallow and weak art education and self-appointed art critics, kept for decades under the darkness of modernism. In my painting, modernism is represented by the ugly creatures from Picasso’s “iconic” painting called “Guernica.” It portrays the moment when the film of darkness begins to heat up from beneath, like a volcano it bubbles and melts, and the divine light of realism breaks through this captivity of cold darkness to breathe the long-awaited air and new life. I entitled this work “Resurrection of Realism.”
In my professional career, I have created thousands of drawings and paintings and have painted more than 2,000 portraits. I particularly enjoy the portrait genre because it celebrates the beauty of the most perfect of God’s creation: humanity. Perhaps this is why the worst assault on creation by modernism is actually directed at breaking and mutilating the human form.
I never give preference to which I prefer to paint more, adults or children. I just love people from all walks of life and love to find and accurately capture the unique characteristics of their outer and inner world. After all, it is our uniqueness that makes each of us beautiful, as we are all God’s children. Among my numerous commissioned portrait subjects are also popes, presidents, U.S. Supreme Court justices, prime ministers, royalty, Fortune 500 CEOs, celebrities, and other distinguished individuals.
It was a blessing and privilege beyond words to have met and painted three living popes for the Vatican collection: Pope St. John Paul II (2003), Pope Benedict XVI (2008), and Pope Francis (2015). When I am asked about my experiences painting the papal portraits, I naturally recall my initial consideration of each of them being different in their nationality, background, personality, appearances, etc., and my goal was to capture and communicate that uniqueness, which often includes related symbols as well. But there was one main feature that all three of the pontiffs had in common: their holiness. On personal experience, they were very much down to earth, yet made you feel “off the ground.”
“Believe—Be Not Afraid,” the official portrait of Pope John Paul II, was commissioned on the occasion of His Holiness’s 25th Pontificate and the celebration of World Youth Day, founded by John Paul II, who also was known as the “People’s Pope.”
In the painting, the pope is standing in the center, surrounded by youth. All the people around him came from my imagination and represent certain sides of our lives and values, connected to the pope, to his character and passion. These are a traditional family couple under the cross; an African girl praying for a better future for her troubled homeland; a child from the Philippines holding a burning candle in her hands, symbolizing love and joy of faith; a young priest, following in the footsteps of the Holy Father; a Middle Eastern child hugging a statuette of Our Lady of Fatima that saved the pope’s life from the attempted assassination; and a young Sister of Mercy, helping a handicapped young man, who symbolizes “strength through suffering.”
Pope John Paul II, now a saint, was also an actor in his youth, a holy man of profound creativity who loved life and the beauty of creation. He was outspoken about the “culture of death,” warned about its consequences, and liked to quote the famous words of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, “Beauty will save the world!”
For the work on my second papal portrait, the portrait of Pope Benedict XVI, “The Truth, the Way and the Life,” the Vatican granted me a special sitting to draw the life sketches of the pope. Then, the grand-size oil portrait was developed back in my studio in the United States before it was unveiled to the Holy Father.
The theologian, the very holy man and leader, Pope Benedict XVI is portrayed with his hands in prayer, communicating with the figure of the risen Christ in the background. The portrait background also includes the Papal Coat of Arms, a silhouette of the Vatican’s St. Peter’s Basilica in the near distance, the Bible, and three candles, symbolizing the Trinity.
Pope Benedict XVI, as a classical musician himself, understood the transfiguration of light, in his own words, that “Art is an open door, to the infinite.” Vatican curator Monsignor Roberto Zagnoli, the Vatican’s foremost scholar on Michelangelo, at the unveiling of my papal portrait at the Vatican Splendors’ museum exhibition at Ft. Lauderdale Museum of Fine Arts, warned contemporaries not to give in to computers, cameras, and other gadgets and surrender our skills and natural abilities hence we lose our way. It was there that he referred to me as “Maestro” for the blessing of Pope Benedict XVI having personally chosen my portrait to represent his papacy. I was humbled and honored as the portrait was exhibited alongside the works of my genius predecessors in art, Michelangelo, Bernini, Giotto, and other great masters of the Renaissance.
My third Vatican papal portrait is the portrait of Pope Francis, which I entitled “The Holy Cross.” With every portrait I do, I keep in mind the moral responsibilities entrusted to me as an artist. As Pope Francis profoundly stated, “beauty, under the care of artists, has the ability to transform even the everyday lives of men and women.” I believe that portraiture should go far beyond photography and capture not just a “Kodak moment,” but the lifetime of the person, and even beyond.
In preparation for Pope Francis’s portrait, I traveled to the Vatican to make portrait studies of His Holiness from life. In my established portrait procedure, this valuable step allows me to get the feel of my portrait subject in direct communication through the art medium. Like with my many portrait works, Pope Francis’s portrait is more than a portrait in its traditional sense. Its large canvas incorporates a number of symbolic references reflective of Pope Francis: his spirituality and devotion to the Holy Family, love for children, and, of course, his washing the feet of the everyday disciples.
The word “pontiff” derives from the word “pont” (bridge) and means the “bridge builder,” so the rainbow behind the Holy Father, symbolizes a bridge that connects the Catholic Church with other religions (represented in the painting by the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul).
The theme of cross is present throughout the whole painting. The portrait composition is comprised of five major “actions”: Pope Francis in the middle, as the focus of the painting, and four groups, located diagonally in both directions toward the corners of the canvas. The pope’s figure connects them all together, forming a cross. The other cross is prompted by the bright beam of God’s light that comes from above, between the dove (symbol of the Holy Spirit) on the right and the Holy Family with the little Jesus in the arms of Mary, on the left. This setting invites the viewer to sense the sign of the cross: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Our Future
I wish to leave my readers with a warning for the future. The more we surrender our God-given talents, skills, and ability to re-create the beauty of creation, the more we break the human form and distance ourselves from nature and the further away we go from God. We become disobedient to His laws and expectations and reverse, if you will, his original creation, reverting into the darkness and emptiness, to which He brought light, form, and life.Modernism takes us in the opposite direction, into nothingness, and reverses the process of creation, from darkness to light, and instead takes us from light to darkness.
Overcoming the destruction of the classical school and the need to promote the old master skills, ability to draw from life, knowledge, educating the youth, is the safeguard that common moral sense will prevail and keep the traditions alive, so that beauty will indeed save the world.