Preface and Acknowledgments

Theology has often been construed as an obstacle to aesthetic perception. Yet, to the extent that they outline a world view, theologies imply a certain approach to the art object that goes beyond the function that art serves in worship and relates more essentially to its aesthetic being and existence. Based on this premise, this book sets the aesthetics of the Orthodox icon in a new key. Working between theological, philosophical and art critical texts from the Orthodox, Catholic, Modernist and Ch'an (Zen) traditions, it demonstrates the openness of Orthodox theology to charismatic being in art, and the ability of certain images to assume forms of theological existence which resonate with personhood and transcendence.

The book explores the ontological and aesthetic implications of theophany in Orthodox ascetic and mystical theology, especially St. Maximus the Confessor, St. Symeon the New Theologian, and St. Gregory Palamas. Departing from beauty-based interpretations that have dominated Catholic and Orthodox aesthetics, it defines the exemplary icon by the ancient Greek concept of enargeia, the presence in the art object of inherent liveliness, expressive autonomy and self-subsisting form. It shows that enargeia is uniquely fitted to express the plerotic state of human existence and nature in theosis, and describe the Byzantine view and experience of art. The theophanic aesthetic that it proposes entails an approach to form, color and light that recalls Modernist experiments with painting while its view of the art object is consistent with Modernism's insistence on the integrity and autonomy of the work of art. The reader will therefore find in these pages reasons to reconcile Modernism with the Christian image and Orthodox tradition with creative form in art.

From a theological standpoint, the icon will be discussed outside the restrictive context of Iconophile polemics that continue to shape contemporary interpretations of the nature and ideological functions of icons. This shift is necessary if we are to place the icon in its proper theological context, appreciate its unique aesthetic and theological being, and avoid the fallacies that have shaped its theological discussion. The tendency to theologize and idealize the Christian image despite itself implies a disregard for its aesthetic identity and life, and the belief that there is little left to be said about it once its beauty and holiness are exalted. In reality, there is much more to the icon than these two canonical concepts would suggest. Icons in possession of their own aesthetic and semantic reality exist in the modality of persons. This notion is suggested by enargeia, is present in Byzantine ekphraseis, and is consistent with the Orthodox view of being. The concept itself has a significant aesthetic range that allows us to explore other iconographic traditions.

The comparison of Orthodox and Zen iconography is based on the aesthetic character of Zen meditation and practice, a quality that sets it apart from other religions and metaphysical systems. But it is also the result of experiencing Orthodoxy as a living and lived reality. At some point in the course of this study, it became clear to me that the theology I was encountering in books acquired a different dimension in Orthodox monastic life, where, as I came to realize, theology becomes a life-form and assumes the terse, lucid and iconic language of the counsels of the Desert Fathers and Mothers.

The affinity of this ascetical, empirical way of knowing God with aesthetic experience was not hard to see and invited a comparison with Zen painting where the image often exists as an instance of enlightenment. Why not, I thought, look for a similar modality in Christian art while standing on the premises of an Orthodox ontology? What would an image that operates as an instance of theosis, rather than as its representation or sign, look like? What would be its aesthetic qualities? Contrary to the contemporary tendency to find univocity in religious and aesthetic experience, what fascinated me in this case were the underlying differences between an Orthodox and a Zen aesthetic, differences not always easy to discern but all the more exciting for this reason.

A word should be said about illustrations. Most of the images included in this study are in black and white. Color plates are reserved for works that I thought are seminal to our argument. Their number is by no means what I had originally intended. This applies especially to Modernist works but also to significant photographs and Zen paintings that I wish had been reproduced here. The practical demands of a budget combined with the fees sometimes demanded, have regrettably forced me to work with fewer images, especially in color. I hope that readers will themselves be able to turn to relevant sources if they wish to pursue matters further.

The iconography of the Orthodox Church exists in icons but also in persons who live ascetic and holy lives. I am deeply indebted for their spiritual guidance and love to Elder Ephraim of St. Anthony's Greek Orthodox Monastery, Arizona, Elder Maximus of St. Dionysius Monastery, Mt. Olympus, Greece, and to Fr. Mark Andrews and Eldress Olympias of Holy Protection Greek Orthodox Monastery, Pennsylvania. I learned about the lives of icons, ancient Greek painting, and the art of Theophanes the Greek from Arch. Fr. Agathonikos Nikolaides who reminded me all along of the openness that Orthodoxy brings to language, thought and art. The lectures of Elder Maximus on St. Maximus the Confessor still resonate in my mind every time I read this great theologian, as does the voice of Fr. Theokletos Dionysiates whose works are cited in this study. Fr. Gavriel, of Filotheou Monastery, has shared with me his photographs of Mount Athos and what his artist's eye sees in the daily lives of Athonite monks and ascetics. I am grateful to His Holiness Metropolitan of Thessaloniki Anthimos for permission to photograph and publish icons from the collection of the Ecclesiastical Museum of the Metropolis, and to Fr. Stylianos Anastasopoulos for his gracious assistance. I am indebted to Elder Paisios of St. Anthony's Monastery, Arizona for his hospitality and permission to photograph and publish the icon of St. Panteleimon.

This book benefited from the suggestions and constructive criticism of the Press readers to whom I am especially grateful. At La Salle University, I wish to thank Marc Moreau and the Provost and Dean for supporting my research-leave applications, Stephen Breedlove for his invaluable help with interlibrary research, and Rosemary Convery for her assistance with the manuscript. I wish also to thank Fr. Juan Velez and my colleagues at the American Maritain Association who over the years have given me the opportunity to learn from their work and explore Catholic theology and aesthetics. Above all, I must thank my editor, John Smedley, for taking this project from its early stages and seeing it through publication with wisdom, kindness and humor.

Finally, the support, ideas and suggestions of family, good friends and colleagues have made researching and writing this book a rewarding experience. Among them, Tatiana Andreadou, Eleni Anni, Mahmoud Ayoub, Loula Barkas, Carolina Bogdanou, Celia Capsomera, Dorothy and Norm Graham, Paul Eftychiadis, Minas Hadjiyiannis, Paul Kambouroglou, Yoshiko and Nobuhiro Kanatsuji, Fr. Kallinikos of the Monastery of Dionysiou, Mt. Athos, Mouina Karam, Christos Katsetos, Miwako Koezuka, Varvara and Alexis Kompotis, Michiko Koyanagi, Nina Liappi, Pasi Mantyla, Fr. Markellos of St. Anthony's Monastery, Arizona, Xanthoula Milka, Richard Mshomba, Yoko and Makoto Ogawa, Yoshi Ohashi, Gavriel Oulkeroglou, Glykeria Simota, Margot and Paul Soven, Stathes Trahanateis, Titika and Vasilis Triantopoulos, George Tsakiridis, and Kaite and Sakes Zapheiriadis deserve my special gratitude.

There are persons who bring their own existence to life with a contagious joy and grace. Long before I understood what enargeia meant, I saw its form in my grandmother, Vaso Gavriilidou. The title of this book is very much a reflection of her memory.