The Meaning of Icons

by Leonid Uspensky, Vladimir Lossky, E. Kadloubovsky (Translator)

Includes 160 pages of text with drawings, 13 black and white and 51 full color plates. It is linen-cloth and paper bound. In the last decades the art of icons has gained increased attention. Once icons were passed over by the art critics, or at most classified as popular art, although painters such as Matisse or Picasso went to Russia especially for the sake of studying this art. Most recently many books have been published on icon painting. Yet the present work is the first of its kind to give a reliable introduction into the spiritual background of this art. The nature of the icon cannot be grasped by means of pure art criticism, nor by the adoption of a sentimental point of view. Its forms are based on the wisdom contained in the theological and liturgical writings of the Eastern Orthodox Church and are intimately bound up with the experience of contemplative life. The introduction into the meaning and the language of the icons by Ouspensky imparts to us in an admirable way the spiritual conceptions of the Eastern Orthodox Church which are often so foreign to us, but without the knowledge of which we cannot possibly understand the world of the icon. "It is not the purpose of the icon to touch its contemplator. Neither is it its purpose to recall one or the other human experience of natural life; it is meant to lead every human sentiment as well as reason and all other qualities of human nature on the way to illumination." "The entire visible world as depicted in the icon is to foreshadow the coming Unity of the whole creation, of the Kingdom of the Holy Ghost." The theological justification of the icon was derived by the Seventh Ecumenical Council from the fact of the Incarnation of God. God became human for the elation and deification of Man. This deification becomes visible in the saints. The Byzantine theologian often sets the calling of an icon painter on an equal level with that of a priest. Devoted to the service of a more sublime reality, he exercises his objective duty the same way as the liturgical priest. The "spiritual genuineness" of the icon, the cryptic, almost sacral power to convince, is not alone due to accurate observation of the iconographic canon, but also the ascetic fervor of the painter. A very interesting section of the technique of icon painting is followed by the main part of the book, in which both authors describe the most important types of icons. Apart from a detailed description of the icon screen (iconostas) of the Russian Church, 58 types are explained with the aid of an equal number of illustrations, amongst which there are alone 10 various representatives of the virgin. Special mention is due to 51 icons reproduced in their complete colorful splendor. The section of subjects made in order to reveal the main features of Orthodox iconography was naturally limited to the examples available outside of Russia. But this not in the least diminishes the value of the book; on the contrary, it led to the reproduction of many beautiful icons which had never been published before or had been unknown to wider public. A considerable number of museums and private collectors in Europe and America spontaneously placed their collections at the disposal of the authors.

Genres: Art, Theology, Religion, Christianity, Christian, Nonfiction, Russia

222 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1952

Reviews

[Claudine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love history, I love art, I love God and I love blending all of them together when possible. This was nice to have when trying to figure out the Icons in my church as they were going up...one by one, many years ago. Beautiful book by a true master.

[William Bies · Rating 5 out of 5]

Profane art criticism hardly does justice to sacred art; in the place of the cult of the artistic personality and his originality, in the latter, the individual genius of the artist will be subordinate to a doctrinal vision and entirely different standards of evaluation apply. The great twentieth-century Russian Orthodox theologians Leonid Ouspensky and Vladimir Lossky repair the fault in their classic The Meaning of Icons, first published in 1952 and currently reprinted by the St Vladimir’s Seminary Press. Probably most curious readers will wish to feast upon the sumptuous illustrations of old icons, some well-known from Russian museums but many comparatively unknown. Besides the visual aspect, though, a great merit of the present volume consists in the theoretical expositions by the learned authors, which will be most welcome to Westerners who may not themselves have grown up in a liturgical milieu in which the icon plays a central role. The work is prefaced with two essays, one by each author. Lossky’s on the nature of tradition consists mainly in commonplaces, no need to reproduce them here, but Ouspensky’s on the theological meaning of icons is quite good and worth commenting upon, in that its contents will be unfamiliar to most readers. There follow about 150 pages of high-quality reproductions of icons grouped by type (most in color), accompanied by a page or two of explanation.

Perhaps the most difficult point for those accustomed to the world of profane art to grasp is the spiritual significance inherent in the icon, which has nothing to do with worldly criteria. The following basic conciliar pronouncement may appear strange, indeed:

The formulation of the Holy Council says: ‘We preserve, without innovations, all the Church traditions established for us, whether written or not written, one of which is icon-painting as corresponding to what the Gospels preach and relate….For if the one is shown by the other, the one is incontestably made clear by the other’. This formulation shows that the Church sees in the icon not a simple art, serving to illustrate the Holy Scriptures, but a complete correspondence of the one to the other, and therefore attributes to the icon the same dogmatic, liturgic and educational significance as it does to the Holy Scriptures. (p. 30)

Hence, one has to pay attention to the function the icon serves within the life of the church, the high point of which is of course the liturgy [etymologically, leiturgia = divine service]:

Architecture, painting, music, poetry cease to be forms of art, each following its own way, independently of the others, in search of appropriate effects, and become parts of a single liturgic whole which by no means diminishes their significance, but implies in each case renunciation of an individual role, of self-assertion. From forms of art with separate aims, they all become transformed into varied means for expressing, each in its own domain, one and the same thing—the essence of the Church. In other words, they become various instruments of the knowledge of God. It follows from its very nature that Church art is a liturgic art. (pp. 30-31)

Now we get down to dogmatic theology. The following string of quotations abstracts the doctrinal core of what the universal Church (whether eastern Orthodox or Roman Catholic) believes about sacred art:

Thus, once the Son of God became Man, it was necessary to represent Him as man. This thought is the main theme of all the fathers who defended the veneration of icons. The fact that the Son of God is representable according to His flesh assumed of the Virgin is contrasted by St. John Damascene and the Fathers of the VIIth Oecumenical Council with the fact that God the Father, being inconceivable and invisible, is thereby incapable of being represented. (p. 32)

In depicting the Saviour, we do not depict either His Divine or His human nature, but His Person in which both these natures are incomprehensibly combined….Owing to this connection ‘homage paid to the image is transmitted to the original’ say the holy Fathers and the Oecumenical Council, quoting the words of Basil the Great. (p. 32)

Thus God the Word, the Second Hypostasis of the Holy Trinity, describable neither by word nor by image, assumes the nature of man, is born of the Virgin Mother of God, while remaining perfect God, becomes perfect Man; becomes visible, tangible and therefore describable. In this wise, the very fact of the existence of the icon is based on the Divine Incarnation….So in the eyes of the Church the denial of the icon of Christ appears as a denial of the truth and immutability of the fact of His becoming man and therefore of the whole Divine dispensation….Such an understanding of the icon explains the steadfastness and intransigence with which its defenders faced torture and death in the period of iconoclasm. (p. 34)

The Divine Person of Jesus Christ, Who possessed all the fullness of Divine life, and Who at the same time became perfect Man (i.e. man in all things but sin), not only re-establishes in its original purity the image of God defiled by man in his fall (‘having refashioned the soiled image to its former estate’), but also conjoins the human nature assumed by Him with the Divine life—‘suffused it with Divine beauty’. The Fathers of the VIIth Oecumenical Council say, ‘He (God) recreated him (man) into immortality by giving him this inalienable gift. This recreation was more in God’s likeness and better than the first creation—this gift is eternal’….Thus, if the Divine Hypostasis of the Son of God became Man, our case is the reverse: man can become god, not by nature, but by grace. God descends in becoming Man; man ascends in becoming god. Assuming the likeness of Christ, he becomes ‘the temple of the Holy Ghost’ which is in him (1 Corinthians 6:19), re-establishes his likeness to God. Human nature remains what it is—the nature of a creature; but his person, his hypostasis, by acquiring the grace of the Holy Spirit, by this very fact associates itself with Divine life, thus changing the very being of its creaturely nature. The grace of the Holy Spirit penetrates into his nature, combines with it, fills and transfigures it. Man grows, as it were, into the eternal life, already here on earth acquiring the beginning of this life, the beginning of deification, which will be made fully manifest in the life to come. (pp. 34-35)

In this connection, one cannot but be struck by how contemptible and unworthy of belief is Calvin’s doctrine of the incorrigible utter corruption of human nature after the Fall, which stands in such sharp contrast to the august authentic teaching of the universal Church at Nicaea II in 787 just reprised; to Calvin one can only rejoin, in the words of St. Simeon the New Theologian spoken in the ninth century, ‘Those who say that now there are no men who could be...worthy of receiving the Holy Spirit...of being regenerated through the grace of the Holy Spirit and of becoming the sons of God with consciousness, practical experience and vision, overthrow the whole dispensation through Incarnation of our Lord God and Saviour Jesus Christ and clearly deny the renewal of God’s image or of human nature, corrupted and slain by sin’. (p. 49)

When contemplating the following passages on how the icon enters into the economy of redemption, it will be helpful to bear in mind the authors’ remark that the icon’s role must be understood as liturgical, not theurgical:

Therefore, beauty itself as the Orthodox Church understands it, is not a beauty belonging to the creature, but an attribute of the Kingdom of God where God is all in all…St. Dionysius the Areopagite calls God Beauty ‘owing to the splendour he sheds on every being, to each in its proper measure’, and also because he sees in Him ‘the cause of the harmony and the brilliant raiments of every creature, for He illumines all things, like light, by pouring out beauty from that radiant source, which wells up from Himself’. (p. 35)

The icon is a likeness not of an animate but of a deified prototype, that is, an image (conventional, of course) not of corruptible flesh, but of flesh transfigured, radiant with Divine light. (p. 36)

All is brought to a supreme order; in the Kingdom of the Holy Spirit there is no disorder, ‘for God is the God of order and of peace’ [St. Simeon the New Theologian]. Disorder is an attribute of the fallen man, the consequence of his fall. This does not mean, of course, that the body ceases to be what it is; not only does it remain a body but, as we have said earlier, it preserves all the physical peculiarities of the given person. But they are depicted in the icon in such a manner that it shows not the earthly countenance of a man as does a portrait, but his glorified eternal face. (pp. 38-39)

This concludes our sketch of what Ouspensky and Lossky have to say about the theology behind the icon. A handful of further observations by the authors enlarge upon the theory just outlined and show how it achieves its consequence in real-life praxis:

Therefore...the art of the Church is realistic in the strictest sense of the word, both in its iconography and in its symbolism. In true Church art there is no idealisation, just as it does not exist in the Holy Scriptures or in the Liturgy….Consequently an icon cannot be invented. Only those who know from personal experience the state it portrays can create images corresponding to it which are truly ‘a revelation and evidence of things hidden’ [St. John Damascene], in other words, evidence of man’s participation in the life of the transfigured world he contemplates, just as Moses created images such as he had seen and made cherubims as he had seen them, that is, after the pattern he had seen in the mountain [Exodus 25:9]. Only such an image can be authentic and convincing and can thus show us the way and direct us to God. No artistic fantasy, no perfection of technique, no artistic gift can replace actual knowledge, drawn from ‘seeing and contemplating’. (pp. 41-42)

The art of Byzantium, ascetic and stern, solemn and refined does not always reach the spiritual height and purity characteristic of the general level of Russian iconography. It grew and was formed in times of struggle and this struggle left its imprint upon it. Byzantium is the fruit of the culture of the ancient world, whose rich and varied inheritance it was called on to introduce into the Church. In this task, its inherent gift for profound and subtle thought and word enabled it to bring into the Church all that concerned the verbal language of the Church. It produced great theologians; it played a great role in the dogmatic struggle of the Church, and in particular the decisive role in the struggle for the icon. And yet, in the image itself, despite the high level of artistic expression, there often remains some trace of the antique inheritance it had not quite outlived, which makes itself felt, in greater or lesser degree, in different aspects which reflect on the spiritual purity of the image. Even the masterpieces of the classical period of that art, such as the XIIth century mosaics of St. Sophia in Constantinople, are not entirely devoid of sensual grossness; one feels in them that peace of soul and body has not yet been completely attained. And IXth century mosaics in the same St. Sophia are definitely imbued with antique sensuality. Later too we often meet with the same traces of antique art and dependence on matter, both in Byzantine and in subsequent Greek icons.

On the other hand Russia, which was not bound by the complex inheritance of antiquity and the roots of whose culture were much less deep, attained to an exceptionally high level and purity of image, which makes Russian iconography outstanding among all the ramifications of Orthodox iconography. It was indeed given to Russia to produce that perfection of the pictorial language of the icon, which revealed with such great force the depth of meaning of the liturgic image, its spirituality. It can be said that if Byzantium was preeminent in giving the world theology expressed in words, theology expressed in the image was given preeminently to Russia. It is characteristic in this sense that until the times of Peter the Great there are few spiritual writers among Russian saints; on the other hand many saints were iconographers, from plain monks to metropolitans. The Russian icon is no less ascetic than the Byzantine. Yet its asceticism is of quite another order. Here the accent is not on the arduousness of the endeavour, but on the joy brought by its fruit, on the easiness and lightness of the Lord’s yoke, of which He Himself speaks in the Gospels, which are read on the days of the holy ascetics, ‘Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly of heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light’ (Matthew 9:29-30). The Russian icon is the highest expression in art of godlike humility. This is why, in spite of its extremely deep meaning, it has a child-like lightness and joy and is full of tranquil peace and warmth. Having come into contact through Byzantium with the traditions of the ancient world, especially in their basic hellenism and not in their Roman version, Russian iconography was not fascinated by the charm of this inheritance. It uses it only as a means, introduces it completely into the Church, and transfigures it; and thus the beauty of antique art acquires its true meaning in the transfigured countenance of the Russian icon. (pp. 44-45)

The XIVth, XVth and the first half of the XVIth centuries represent the finest flowering of Russian iconography which coincides with the finest flowering of Russian sainthood, namely that of the ascetic type. (p.46) The creative art of Andrew Rublev is the most vivid manifestation in Russian iconography of the antique heritage. All the beauty of antique art here comes to life, filled with a new and true meaning. His art is distinguished by a youthful freshness, a sense of measure, a supreme harmony of colours, an enchanting rhythm and music of line. (p. 47)

Enough with verbal description! Fortified with a theoretical understanding of what icons are all about, may the dear reader proceed to page through and dwell upon the images themselves, as reproduced in this book, and to learn from them! Excellent all around, five stars richly deserved.

[Ted · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book has a phenomenal amount of information about icons and their dogmatic role in Orthodoxy. I had the book for years and never read it. Reading it in my old age, it is of less interest to my concerns. Some think it one of the best theological books on iconography. I don't disagree. My criticsms are that in its defense of icons - answering "Western" objections, it relies completely on scholastic ideas, categories and arguments to try to show the superiority of Eastern thinking. As such it becomes very dogmatically wooden and heavy, and the light and beauty of icons can be lost as they are described in terms to be used as a club against Western thinking. Also, both Lossky and Ouspensky are Russophiles and think whatever the Russian Church does is superior to anything in Byzantium. Whatever the Russian Church is or has or does is correct in their thinking and they use the same logic to defend anything in the Russian Church.

[Sasha Wolf · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you read this, make sure you get the 1982 revised edition, which has gorgeous colour reproductions of almost all the icon types it discusses. The main text provides a clear explanation of the composition and symbolism of each type, complete with scriptural and Orthodox liturgical references. The introductory essays on tradition, iconography and technique are quite heavy going, but worth it if you're new to these topics.

[booklady]

When they write 'lavishly illustrated' in the book description, they are not exaggerating!