Salvador Dali's Christ of St John of the Cross, now residing in the Museum of Religion in Glasgow. It's quite possibly the only Dali work I actually like (though his moustache probably counts as much as anything, come to think of it).
Friday, March 25, 2005
On a wee man on a cross theme, I used to pay regular visits to Kelvingrove Art Gallery in Glasgow to see this:
Salvador Dali's Christ of St John of the Cross, now residing in the Museum of Religion in Glasgow. It's quite possibly the only Dali work I actually like (though his moustache probably counts as much as anything, come to think of it).
Salvador Dali's Christ of St John of the Cross, now residing in the Museum of Religion in Glasgow. It's quite possibly the only Dali work I actually like (though his moustache probably counts as much as anything, come to think of it).
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During the revolt, circa 70 AD., or thereabouts, the Romans are said to have crucified as much as 500 Jews in a single day. Just the steady accumulation of historical knowledge is sufficient to take the wind from the sails of any religion that relies too heavily on symbolism. Christianity, fraught with so much paradox, so much schism, unable to police itself, hopelessly involved in worldly affairs, can hardly outshine its competitors when it comes to appealing to the individual.
But then look at Dali's composition. HE is put high above just a few simple fisherman, the kind of mortals with whom there was a CHANCE he would be accepted. And this is why Kierkegaard continues to grow in my estimation of him as a great soul. His desperate elaborations imply, indirectly, this amazing question: To what lengths does God, incarnate as an individual man, have to go to be loved by other individuals? And the simplest among them! To teach beasts to love each other?
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