FARM INSURANCE

It is not difficult to identify this icon, because we have seen another of the same type in an earlier posting:

https://russianicons.wordpress.com/2014/02/09/

So we know that this is essentially an icon of the patrons of horses, Flor and Lavr — in Latin form Florus and Laurus:

(Courtesy of Jacksonsauction.com)

Eastern Orthodoxy continued the polytheism of the pre-Christian world in its veneration of saints, assigning them different roles, such as were held by the old gods, major and minor.  And we know that if one had a particular concern with the raising and well-being of horses, Flor and Lavr were the saints who had authority in that field.

Let’s take a look at the saints in the upper half of the icon:

We see at center “Holy Archangel Mikhail/Michael.”  He holds the “Image Not Made by Hands,” by Eastern Orthodox tradition the first icon of Christianity.

At far left is “Holy Flor/Florus, Martyr.”

And at far right is the fellow with whom he is usually shown, “Holy Lavr/Laurus, Martyr.”

Now let’s look at the fellow in bishop’s robes beside Lavr:


His inscription tells us that he is СВЯТЫЙ ВЛАСИЙ СВЯЩЕННОМУЧЕНИК/SVYATUIY VLASIY SVYASHCHENNOMUCHENIK — “HOLY VLASIY/BLASIUS/BLAISE, PRIEST-MARTYR.”

Now I hope you will recall that we have seen Vlasiy before, as a protector of herds and flocks:

https://russianicons.wordpress.com/2015/04/25/a-god-by-any-other-name-ilya-and-vlasiy/

So here he is, adding his “power” to this icon of the patrons of horses.

The fellow I really want to concentrate on today, however, is the last saint depicted, the one just to the left of Michael:


His title inscription is a bit worn, but we can nonetheless easily decipher it as SVYATUIY MEDOST P[ATRIARKH]/HOLY MEDOST/MODEST, PATRIARCH.  This Medost was Патриарх Иерусалимский/Patriarkh Ierusalimskiy — “Patriarch of Jerusalem.  So what is this 7th century Patriarch of Jerusalem doing in this icon of patrons of horses and herds and flocks?

It all goes back to stories from his legendary biography.

One tale relates that a farmer was on the road with his oxen when the devil attacked them, and they fell dead to the ground.  The farmer prayed for Modest, who came and raised them up again.  But as the farmer proceeded on his way, the devil attacked them once more, and again they fell to the ground.  Modest appeared again, raised them up, and this time he tied his belt to them, so that the devil could no longer trouble them.

It is said that a poor widowed woman was very distressed because her five pairs of oxen were seriously ill.  Distraught, she prayed in tears to the “unmercenary” saints Comas And Damian to heal her oxen.  However, Cosmas appeared to her in a dream telling her essentially that the healing of oxen was not in his job description:

“O woman, we are not empowered by God to give healing to cattle.  This grace is given to Modest, the great hierarch of Jerusalem.  He — if you approach him — will heal your oxen.”

Now not being able to find him directly, she began to pray earnestly to Medost/Modest. He then appeared to her in a dream, saying:

“O woman, why  are you so weeping?  I am Modest, whom you seek, and hearing your prayer I appeared to make healthy your oxen.”

He then instructed the woman to rise up, to cut pieces of iron from metal tools, and to take the pieces to the place called Lagina, where there was a church dedicated to the Arhistrategos Michael (the Archangel Michael as Heavenly Commander).  There lived a man named Evstafiy (Eustathios), who would make her a cross from them.  She was then to return to her  home and call seven presbyters, who were to perform religious services in her house, and with incense and candles they were to take the cross and pour oil over it,  and then the oil was to be sprinkled on the oxen, and they would be healed.  And of course as these old tales go, the oxen were made quite healthy again by the ritual.

That explains why Medost/Modest is in this icon.  His ability to cure oxen and livestock used in ploughing (and even other farm and domestic creatures) is added to that of the other two healers of horses and flocks, to cover even better the needs of an owner of livestock.

Now let’s look at another icon that has Medost/Modest as its main image:


The title inscription says: Svyatuiy Myedost, Patriarkh Ierusalimskiy.  We can see from the second letter in his name that the writer is pronouncing it with a  “ye” sound — so “Myedost.”

We also see a winged serpent by the water on the right side.  A demonic serpent is said to have killed animals in Jerusalem by poisoning the water with his venom.  Medost/Modest got rid of him.

There are various other animals in the icon, including a dog.  It is said that Modest once adjured the devil, who had appeared in the shape of a dog.

We can see from the saints included that this icon was oriented specifically toward those needing protection for herds, horses and other livestock in the days before one could just call a veterinarian.

There were all kinds of folk beliefs about the day of Modest’s commemoration, one of which was that women were not to play card games on it.  If they did, then when summer came, the chickens would peck holes in the cucumbers in the garden.

Here is another example of a “farm insurance” icon:

Here is Flor at upper left:

And Lavr at upper right:

Between them are the horses, though with only one rider instead of the usual three.  And this icon adds a wooden fence around the herd:

We see Vlasiy with cattle at lower left:

And Medost with an ox at lower right:

Between them we see the demonic serpent/dragon poisoning the water from which the cattle drink:

A PILLAR, PRINTS, AND A PRINCE

Here is an icon of another stolpnik — stylite — another “pillar guy,” one of those men who lived atop a pillar as an ascetic practice.  This fellow, however, is Russian.

The title inscripton above him reads:

СВ[ЯТЫЙ] ПРЕПОДОБНЫЙ НИКИТА СТОЛП[НИК]
SVYATUIY PREPODOBNUIY NIKITA STOLPNIK
“Holy Venerable Nikita Stylite.”

Nikita had a rather miserable life, which I will summarize later in this posting.  But first I want to point out that by the last years of the 19th century and into the beginning of the 20th, icon painting in Russia was seriously threatened by the development of chromolithography — the printing of images in multiple colors — which permitted the printing of icon images on both tin and on paper.

Chromolithography — instead of using a single stone with an image engraved on it — used multiple stones, each engraved with the portion of the image corresponding to the required color of ink.  As the paper was printed by one stone after another, the image aquired a new color from each.  To achieve the desired tones and shading, as many as several dozen stones might be used to print one image.

To the average Russian, it was much less expensive to buy a printed icon than a painted icon.  And given that painted icons were essentially copies of rather standardized images — copies of copies of copies of copies — it seemed that icons and mass printing were an ideal combination.  Buyers no longer had to rely on a monochrome or hand-tinted print; now they could have printed images in color, which became quite popular in the late 19th and early 20th century, and hung in many homes of ordinary people — often framed behind glass.

Before the advent of chromolithography, Western European prints — in the form of engravings or woodcuts — already had a substantial influence on Russian religious art from the latter part of the 17th century, when the traditional stylized manner kept alive by the Old Believers began to be abandoned by the State Church in favor of the more “realistic” art of Western European Protestants and Catholics.  The effect of such prints on icon painting only increased in the 18th century.

Black and white lithographic printing — printing from an engraved stone — was developed in Germany in the late 18th century, and spread to Russia, where both lithographed and chromolithographed paper religious images began to appear in the 1830s-1840s.  Lithographs of one kind or another were printed as early as 1858 in the icon painting village of Mstera, at the workshop of the one-time serf Ivan Aleksandrovich Golyshev (И.А. Голышев — 1838—1896), which produced until about 1885, when it gave way to larger printing companies that began producing chromolithographed paper icons en masse from about 1870 — factories such as that of Efim Ivanovich Fesenko (Ефим Иванович Фесенко — 1850–1926) in Odessa, which produced the icon of Nikita shown above.

Fesenko also printed a number of other icon types — all in the “Westernized” style adopted by the State Church, which by the late 19th century looked very much like religious images produced by Catholics in Western Europe. To our eyes, they look quite bland and saccharine.  Fesenko, by the way, managed to survive into the Soviet Era, and was made permanent director of what had previously been his own printing company, after the government nationalized it.

Another prominent chromolithographer of icons in Odessa at that time was the firm of Vilgelm/Wilhelm Til (Вильгельм Тиль), whose 1881 Catalog declared that with its publication, his firm had set itself the task to “make its products available — even at the farthest distance — to each and all wishing to buy for little money the representations of holy icons of worthy workmanship, and in full accord with the writings of the Orthodox Church, in that the greater part of the images are taken from icons in Russian monasteries and churches.

It added:

For 22 years there has been an institution in Odessa — closely known by many nearby rich monasteries, but hardly known to our village [rural] clergy. This firm is known by the name V. Til and Company.  It manufactures images of holy icons, for the most part copies of wonderworking [icons] — of various sizes, at a price accessible to every Orthodox Christian.”

So by the later years of the 19th century, chromolithography — lithographed images in multiple colors — had greatly expanded in Russia, and was just the latest trend in what had become a long tradition of borrowing from the West in icon art.

That was followed by the application of chromolithography to printing on tin rather than paper — the kind of metal icons produced by the famous Moscow firm of Jacquot and Bonacœur (in Russian Жако и Бонакер / Zhako i Bonaker), examples of which are still found on the antique icon market today.  Those colorful images, which had a richer appearance than chromolithographs on paper,  drew even more customers away from painted to printed icons, and the business of the traditional hand-painted icon workshops declined sharply.  The painters could not easily compete, and some began turning to cheaply-painted icons in an attempt to somehow stay in business.

So threatened was the long tradition of Russian icon painting, that in 1900 Tsar Nicholas II established a special committee for its preservation, the Комитет попечительства о русской иконописи / Komitet popechitel’stva o russkoy ikonopisi — “Committee for Guardianship of Russian Icon Painting.”  It had three objectives:

  1.  The banning of printed icons;
  2.  The printing of podlinniki — painter’s manuals — to preserve the old traditions of how saints and scenes were depicted.
  3.  The establishment of workshops for the teaching of icon painting.

It was too little too late. The printed icon business had become well-established and heavily patronized in Russia.  To bring out the big guns, the “Holy Governing Synod” of the Russian Orthodox Church attempted to ban the printing of icons in monasteries and churches, and even attempted to stop the sale of the tin icons of Jaquot and Bonaker.  They failed miserably.  For ordinary Russians, it was a matter of economics.  Printed icons, whether on paper or tin, were much less expensive than painted icons, and easily served the same purpose.  When one considers icons not as “art” but as religious implements made for a purpose, there is no difference.

The icon painting workshops continued their severe decline into the last days of the reign of Tsar Nicholas, and then came the blow that finished them off — the rise of the Russian Communist State.  That is when some of the old icon painters turned to other ways of making a living, like those of Palekh, who began to paint laquerware boxes with colorful images taken from fairy tales or from “Socialist life.”  As a general rule of thumb, the old period of Russian icon painting may be considered to have ended in 1917, though of course some icons were still painted later, here and there.

In 1944 the making of printed icons under the auspices of the Russian Orthodox Church began again, this time with silk-screened images — a process which lends itself easily the creation of icons, which had originally been painted by a system of layering colors much like that followed in silk screening.  And of course the revival of religious art — including painted icons — only increased with the fall of Communism.  Today Russia produces painted icons, printed icons, and silk-screened icons — among other kinds.  But the world has changed, and so has Russian culture.

Let’s look more closely at another icon printed by Fesenko, one of those included in his album of such chromolithographs.  Here is the Sobor Svaytuikh Semi Arkhangelov — the “Assembly of the Seven Archangels”:

It depicts the Archangels with their symbols (which may vary from icon to icon):
Michael with a sword, Uriel with a flame, Raphael with a lily and lantern (but traditionally a vessel of medicaments), Gabriel with a chalice (traditionally a blossoming lily), /Seraphiel/Selaphiel with a crown (traditionally with hands crossed in prayer), Yegudiel with hands crossed in prayer (traditionally with a crown; in some icons a whip is added), and Barachiel with flowers/roses, (traditionally on a white cloth).

If we look at the printing at the base, we see the title of the image, but we also see other information typical of such prints:

Оть С. Петербургского Духовного цензурного Комитета печатать дозволяется. С.-Петербургь, 3 Октября 1897 г.  Архимандрить Клименть. Хромолитография Е. И. Фесенко вь Одесе.
Собственность издания Хромолитографии Е. И. Фесенко вь Одесе

It means essentially:
“Printing approved by the St. Petersburg Spiritual Censorship Committee.  St. Petersburg, 3rd October, year 1897.  Archimandrite Kliment.  Chromolithography of E. I. Fesenko in Odessa.
Print property of the Chromolithography of E. I. Fesenko in Odessa.”

We see the approval of the censorship board, the place of approval, the date of approval, and the name of the approving cleric, as well as the name of the printer and place of publication.  So religious publications in Tsarist Russia — even prints — were subject to review by the censorship committee of the Synod, the authority at the head of the Russian Orthodox Church at that time.  Such censorship was rather like the “Imprimatur” found in books approved for printing by Roman Catholic authorities declaring them free of material contrary to approved doctrine.

Now let’s turn back to the fellow in the first image above — Nikita the Stylite.

According to tradition, Nikita was born in Pereslavl Zalesskiy in the 12th century.  He grew to become a violent and cruel tax collector, keeping a substantial portion of what he rapaciously took for himself.  That went on for years.

One day Nikita went to church, and there he was thunderstruck when he heard spoken the words of Isaiah 1:16-17:

Измыйтеся, (и) чисти будите, отимите лукавства от душ ваших пред очима Моима, престаните от лукавств ваших.  Научитеся добро творити, взыщите суда, избавите обидимаго, судите сиру и оправдите вдовицу….

Wash yourselves, and become  clean; remove the evil of your souls from before my eyes; cease from your evil.  Learn to do good, seek judgment, rescue the oppressed, judge the orphan and plead for the widow.”

He could not sleep that night.  The next morning, he decided to get the matter off his mind by throwing a party for his friends.  But when his wife was preparing food, she saw the meat running with blood, and when it was put in the cooking pot, she was horrified to find a bloody foam on the top, and then a human head popped up in it, along with an arm and a leg.  She ran to Nikita, and when he looked, he saw the same thing.  He realized that his evil ways as a plundering tax collector had been murder for the people.

He then went to the Nikitskiy Monastery not far from Pereslavl.  There he confessed his evil deeds with tears, but the hegumen was not certain of his repentance.  So he told Nikita to show his sincerity by standing at the Monastery gate, telling all who passed by of his evil deeds.  Nikita agreed to this, and began carrying out his penance.  He declared his evil ways to all passing, for three days.  Then he went to a dirty, swampy place, took off all his clothes, and sat down naked in the mucky water, praying to God.  When the hegumen sent a monk to check on him, he found Nikita sitting in the swamp, covered with mosquitoes and blood.

Viewing that as a sign of sincere repentance, the hegumen took Nikita into the monastery and made him a monk.

Once he had become a monk, Nikita became fanatical about it, spending sleepless nights in prayer and fasting.  He had terrifying visions, which he interpreted as the wiles of the devil, and so he made the sign of the cross and called on the Great Martyr Nikita for aid.  It is said that through all of these privations and prayers, Nikita gained the ability to work miracles, and he became noted locally as a healer.

Prince Mikhail of Chernigov suffered from a kind of paralysis … and when he heard about the abilities of Nikita, he ordered that he be taken to see him.  The tradition relates that on the way,  the retinue met a monk who said he was from Nikita’s monastery.  Mikhail asked the monk about the supposed wonderworker, and the fellow replied that Nikita was just a fake — a deceiver.

After the Prince had continued some distance farther, he met another fellow who told the Prince he was wasting his time going to see Nikita.  Nonetheless, the Prince proceeded, and when his retinue neared the monastery, he ordered a tent erected, and sent a boyar to the monastery to inform them that he wanted to see Nikita.

Before the boyar arrived, a monk appeared to him — blind, and holding a shovel in his hands.  He said that Nikita had died, and that he had just buried him.

Now the boyar was a clever fellow, and realized that these different  men who were trying to obstruct the visit of the Prince to Nikita were all just a demon taking on different forms.  So he spoke a prayer that made the demon stand immovable just where he was, while the boyar went on to see Nikita, who was living atop a pillar.  He told him of the Prince’s affliction, and Nikita gave him his staff to take to the Prince.  When the Prince held the staff, he was able to stand wand walk on his own legs to see the saint.

When Nikita was told about the mischievous obstructing demon, he commanded the demon to stand motionless before his pillar, where everyone could see him, for three hours (notice the common “three” motif here?).  After the time was up, the demon swore an oath that he would never do evil again, and vanished.  The Prince made a rich gift to the monastery, and returned home.  Nikita continued to work miracles of healing, and his fame grew.

Some relatives came to see him to ask for help.  They saw that Nikita had burdened himself by wearing chains to which three crosses were fastened, as penance.  Now these chains had been worn to a shining condition by constant rubbing against Nikita’s body, and the relatives, seeing this, mistakenly thought they were made of silver.  They made an evil plan to steal them.  So they came by night to Nikita’s pillar, killed him, wrapped his chains and crosses in a canvas, and absconded.  So Nikita died violently on the 24th of May, 1186.

The next morning a cleric discovered the body and informed the hegumen, who found it still warm and emitting a fragrance.

The robbers, meanwhile, had reached the Volga River.  When they opened their cloth to look at the chains, they were so disgusted to find them merely polished iron that they threw them in the river, not far from the Monastery of St. Peter near the city of Yaroslavl.

The next night a monk from the St. Peter Monastery, named Simeon, noticed three brilliantly-shining pillars not far from the shore, reaching from earth to heaven.  When he told the arkhimandrite, he — together with the head of the city and a crowd of people — went to the river bank.  As they did so, they saw the chains miraculously rise to the surface of the water, and float like dry wood to the shore.  Seeing this, they took the chains, and singing hymns, set off with them toward the city.  On the way they met a lame man, who was healed when touched by the crosses on the chains.  They worked more healing miracles, and later Nikita himself appeared to Simeon, telling him that the chains should be placed on Nikita’s coffin.  So they were taken from Yaroslavl to Pereslavl and placed in the tomb with Nikita’s body.

Now as we can see, this all forms a kind of folk tale, which is typical of the stories of the Eastern Orthodox saints.

We should take a look at the scroll held by Nikita, showing his most common inscription:

It reads:

ВЛАДЫКО ХРИСТЕ ЦАРЮ ПОМИЛУЙ ПАДШАГО ВОЗВЕДИ УГРЯЗНУВШЕГО В КАЛЕ ГРЕХОВНЕ”

Loosely,

Ruler Christ, Tsar, forgive me, a fallen one; raise the one lost in vice from the excrement of sin.

 

A BORROWED CORONATION

Though painted in a very traditional manner, this icon shows again that there never was an Eastern Christian art without outside influences.  Even the earliest Christian depictions were heavily reliant on images prevalent in the Greco-Roman art of the time.

Over the years the art of the Russian Church was influenced by images from the Catholic and later even Protestant West of Europe.  This influence only increased with the great change in Russian Orthodox State Church painting that came after the break with the Old Believers in the middle of the 17th century.  By the end of that century, State Church art went one way, while the Old Believers maintained the traditional stylized manner of painting.

This Western influence brought new depictions into Russian Orthodox iconography.  One of these was the “Coronation of the Mother of God” — the Коронование Богородицы — Koronovanie Bogoroditsui, which came into Russian iconography via the Catholic-influenced art (including book engravings) of Ukraine.

 

Here is the inscription at the top:

It reads:

СЫНЪ МАТЕР ВЕНЧАЕТЪ —  ДУХ СВЯТЫЙ НЕВЕСТОУ ОСЕНАЕТЪ — ОТЕЦЪ ДЩЕРЬ БЛАГОСЛОВЛАЕТЪ

“THE SON CROWNS THE MOTHER” — “THE HOLY SPIRIT SANCTIFIES THE BRIDE” — “THE FATHER BLESSES THE DAUGHTER”

The “Coronation of the Virgin” image had been found in the art of the Catholic West since the 13th Century.  It was often combined with the “Assumption.”  In Russian Orthodox art, images of the death of Mary are depicted as the “Dormition” (Uspenie) — and for centuries, there was no “Koronovanie”  type in Orthodox art — no “Coronation.”  But in the 18th and 19th centuries, such icons became increasingly common, and were sometimes depicted — as in the West — in a “Dormition” icon with the “Coronation”  added in clouds above it.  Here is an example — the central image of an icon painted in 1694 by Kirill Ulanov (Кирилл Уланов) for the Pokrov Church in Moscow:

Gradually, however, icons of the “Coronation” without the “Dormition” scene became more common, like the first example on this page.

When the “Coronation” type first began to appear in Russian iconography, some were unhappy because it seemed to import a distinctively Roman Catholic teaching into Eastern Orthodoxy.  But as you may recall, there is a type of Deisis icon commonly called “The Queen Stands at Your Right,” in which Mary is shown crowned and in royal robes.  It applies the Old Testament phrase from the 44th Psalm to Mary as “Queen”:

“…the queen stood by on your right hand, clothed in garments wrought with gold, and arrayed in various colors...”

Of course that text originally had nothing to do with Mary at all, but it did provide a handy excuse for the adoption of the “Coronation” image into the icon repertoire by Russian Orthodox painters.

 

ILLUSTRATIVE ICONS: MY SOUL MAGNIFIES THE LORD

Near the end of the 15th century, a new trend began in icon subjects.  These new types were not simply depictions of saints, but often rather complex theological compositions of one kind or another, giving visible form to Church dogma or to biblical or liturgical excerpts.  This kind of icon is generally called a “mystic-didactic” icon, meaning it is intended to teach one or another aspect of the “mysteries” of Church dogma by visual representation.  A common Russian term for such icons today is богословско-дидактические иконы — bogoslovsko-didakticheskie ikonui — “theological-didactic icons.”

Such icons are often truly a mystery to those who see them for the first time, because it would be quite difficult to understand what they are about, were it not for identifying title inscriptions.

Today we will look at such a complex icon type from the 17th century.  Here, in very condensed vyaz’ form, is its title:

 

It reads:

ВЕЛИЧИТЬ ДУША МОЯ ГОСПОДА  И ВОЗРАДОВАСЯ ДУХЪ МОИ О БОЗЕ СПАСЕ МОЕМЪ
VELICHIT’ DUSHA MOYA GOSPODA I VOZRADOVASYA DUKH MOI O BOZE SPASE MOEM”

Literally,
Magnifies soul my  [the] Lord and rejoiced spirit my in God Savior my

In normal English,

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my savior.”

Now if you are familiar with the Bible (which is extremely helpful in the study of icons), you will recognize that as the speech of Mary commonly called the “Magnificat,” found in the first chapter of the Gospel attributed to Luke.

So that is the title of this type:  “MY SOUL MAGNIFIES THE LORD.

Here is the icon:

As you can see, there are lots of creatures in it, and several different scenes, intended to illustrate various parts of the Magnificat, Luke 1:46-55:

And Mary said, My soul magnifies the Lord,

And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he has regarded the humility of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty has done to me great things; and holy is his name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He has put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted those of low degree.

He has filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he has sent empty away.

He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy;

As he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever.

At upper right, we see the Annunciation, the Angel Gabriel coming to Mary to tell her she will bear a son.  This illustrates “For he has regarded the humility of his handmaiden.”

Below that is a large crowd of various kinds of people (including saints) looking up toward the central image of Mary and her son,  illustrating “ from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed”:

Here is “He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.”  We see devils, the large one being the Antichrist.  Some versions show proud monks in Hell for this scene.

Here we see “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones”:

On the left side we see monks flying up to Heaven — the “Heavenly Jerusalem,” illustrating “And exalted the humble.”

Below that is “He has filled the hungry with good things…”

And below that we see some gloomy wealthy people, alone with their money, illustrating “And the rich he has sent away empty”:

At the very top of the icon we see Lord Sabaoth (God the Father) with ranks of angels, two of whom hold the Scroll of Heaven, with the Sun and Moon on it.

Icons of “My Soul Magnifies the Lord” are not common, but nonetheless one should expect some variation in how the scenes are shown from example to example.  Now that you understand this old icon, you will also be able to identify and interpret this recent icon of the Velichit Dusha Moya Gospoda type, painted after a 17th century icon of the Yaroslavl School:

velichitdushamoyajacksonsauction1
(Courtesy of Jacksonsauction.com)

 

Here is the older icon:

IztserkviNikoluiRublenogogoroda