"The Rejected Christ" by Goetze

For further inquiries about the original work, go to the Stranraer Museum.

At the exhibition of the Royal Academy, in London, the great canvas by Sigismund Goetze, entitled “Despised and Rejected of Men,” (right) has created an artistic sensation. It is declared to be a “powerful and terribly realistic presentment of Christ.” in a modern setting, and is described by a writer in The Christian Commonwealth (London), as follows: 

In the center of the canvas is the Christ, standing on a pedestal, bound with ropes, while on either side passes the heedless crowd. A prominent figure is a richly vested priest, proudly conscious of the perfection of the ritual with which he is starving his higher life. Over the shoulder of the priest looks a stern-faced divine of a very different type. Bible in hand, he turns to look at the gospel has missed its spirit,and is as far astray as the priest whose ceremonial is to him anathema. The startled look on the face of the hospital nurse in the foreground is very realistic; so is the absorption of the man of science, so intent on the contents of his test-tube that he had not a glance for the Christ at his side. One of the most striking figures is that of the thoughtless beauty hurring from one scene of pleasure to another; and spurning the sweet-faced little ragged child who is offering a bunch of violets. In rejecting the plea of the child who knows that the proud woman is rejecting the Christ who has identified himself forever with the least of these little ones. The only person in the whole picture who has found time to pause is the mother seated on the steps of the pedestal with her baby in her arms, and we can not but feel that when she has ministered to the wants of her child she will spare a moment for the lover of little children who is so close to her. In the background stands an angel with bowed head, holding the cup which the world He loved to the death is still compelling the Christ to drink, while a cloud of angel faces look down upon the scene with wonder. As the visitor turns away he is haunted with the music of Stainer’s “Crucifixion,” “Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?”

Related Content:

• The Passing Over of Sin IN Christ
• Christ the Redeemer!

The Faberge Imperial Eggs

Tsar Nicholas II presented this egg to his wife.

      A Fabergé egg (Russian: Яйца Фаберже́; yaytsa faberzhe) is a jeweled egg made by the House of Fabergé from 1885 to 1917. Most were miniature eggs that were popular gifts at Easter. They were worn on a neck chain either singly or in groups.

      The most famous eggs produced by the House were the larger ones made for Alexander III and Nicholas II of Russia; these are often referred to as the 'Imperial' Fabergé eggs. Approximately 50 eggs were made; 42 have survived. Another two eggs, the Constellation and Karelian Birch eggs, were planned for 1918 but not delivered, as Nicholas II and his family were executed that year, and Nicholas had abdicated the crown the year before.

      Seven large eggs were made for the Kelch family of Moscow. The eggs are made of precious metals or hard stones decorated with combinations of enamel and gem stones. The Fabergé egg has become a symbol of luxury, and the eggs are regarded as masterpieces of the jeweler's art.

      'Fabergé egg' typically refers to products made by the company before the 1917 Revolution, but use of the Fabergé name has occasionally been disputed, and the trademark has been sold several times since the Fabergé family left Russia after 1917 (see House of Fabergé), so several companies have subsequently retailed egg-related merchandise using the Fabergé name. The trademark is currently owned by Fabergé Limited, which also makes egg-themed jewellery.

Above Right, On April 22, 1907, Tsar Nicholas II presented this egg to his wife, Alexandra Fedorovna, to commemorate the birth of the tsarevich, Alexei Nicholaievich, three years earlier. Because of the Russo-Japanese War in 1904, no Imperial Easter eggs had been produced for two years. The egg contained as a surprise a diamond necklace and an ivory miniature portrait of the tsarevich framed in diamonds (now lost). Fabergé's invoice, dated April 21, 1907, listed the egg at 8,300 rubles.

Faberge Eggs, Part 1, Watch Part II here.

      The first Fabergé egg was crafted for Tsar Alexander III, who decided to give his wife, the Empress Maria Fedorovna, an Easter Egg in 1885, possibly to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their betrothal. It is believed that the Tsar’s inspiration for the piece was an egg owned by the Empress’s aunt, Princess Vilhelmine Marie of Denmark, which had captivated Maria’s imagination in her childhood. Known as the Hen Egg, it is crafted from gold. Its opaque white enameled ‘shell’ opens to reveal its first surprise, a matte yellow gold yolk. This in turn opens to reveal a multi-coloured gold hen that also opens. It contained a minute diamond replica of the Imperial Crown from which a small ruby pendant was suspended. Unfortunately, these last two surprises have been lost.

      Empress Maria was so delighted by this gift that Alexander appointed Fabergé a ‘goldsmith by special appointment to the Imperial Crown’. He commissioned another egg the following year. After that, Peter Carl Fabergé, who headed the House, was apparently given complete freedom for future Imperial Easter Eggs, as from this date their designs become more elaborate. According to the Fabergé family tradition, not even the Tsar knew what form they would take: the only requirement was that each one should contain a surprise. Following the death of Alexander III on November 1, 1894, his son presented a Fabergé egg to both his wife, the Empress Alexandra Fedorovna, and to his mother, the Dowager Empress Maria Fedorovna.

      No eggs were made for 1904 and 1905 because of the Russo-Japanese War. Once an initial design had been approved by Peter Carl Fabergé, the work was carried out by an entire team of craftsmen, among them Michael Perkhin, Henrik Wigström and Erik August Kollin.

      The Imperial eggs enjoyed great fame, and Fabergé made some other large eggs for a few select private clients, such as the Duchess of Marlborough, the Nobels, the Rothschilds and the Yusupovs. A series of seven eggs was made for the industrialist Alexander Kelch.

More Related Content:

• Mieks; website on pictures, history, whereabouts... of Fabergé eggs
• Fabergé Research Site by Christel Ludewig McCanless
• Details on each of the Fabergé Eggs
• BYU article on the eggs

Heads Of The Christ

 

Famous Heads of Christ

How Artists Have Depicted The Savior's Features

Hoffman's Divine Painting, Showing the Tender Pathos of "the Man of Sorrows" --Raphael's Masterpiece--One of the Most Pathetic Pictures of Christ Is the One Called "Carrying of the Cross"--Guido Reul's "Ecee Homo."

      Among the many beautiful conceptions of the divine face of Christ that artists have endeavored to portray on canvas are five that are so surpassingly beautiful and so wonderfully in harmony with the ideal of the God-man that suggests itself to most people that they have been universally declared to be masterpieces of sacred art. These five famous "Heads of Christ" are here reproduced. They form a collection that both saint and sinner will study with interest. 

      The picture of the Savior of mankind, shown with the face in profile, straight hair falling down to the shoulders, and a look of intense earnestness in the eyes, is taken from the world-famous painting of "Christ Before Pilate" by Munkacsy. This painting has been exhibited all over the world, and copies of it hang on the walls of countless homes. It represents Christ at one of the most trying periods of His troubled life, when brought into the presence of Pontius Pilate for declaring himself to be the Son of God. 

      The picture differs from almost all other famous pictures of Christ, in that it depicts Him with features that are stern and set, and with little trace of the compassionate sweetness that so many artists have given to the face of Christ. With the rabble howling around Him, Christ faces Pilate, and were it not for the position of the two, Pilate on his throne, Christ standing before him, it would seem that the relations were reversed, and that Pilate was the accused, Christ the accuser.

      The masterly had of the artist has thrown into the upturned face of Christ a latent suggestiveness of supernatural power that lifts it up from those surrounding it, and marks clearly the distinction between the divine and the human in the throng.

Christ before Pilate, 1881 by Mihály Munkácsy,
oil on canvas 417 x 636 cm

Guido Reni's "Ecce Homo,"

      For a picture of the beautiful, the divine, the compassionate, for all that Christians love to look for in the face of Christ, the masterpiece of the modern artist Hoffmann is the one to turn to. The head of Christ is taken from Hoffmann's "Christ at the Door," The familiar picture representing Christ with a shepherd's crook in hand, knocking at the portals of a home. The tender sweetness of the face, which is turned full towards the spectator, is wonderfully shown. It is a face in which gentleness is emphasized by the settled melancholy of a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," It is pleading, pathetic, but not weak. The artist has ennobled the features of Christ so that the womanly attributes of gentleness and sympathy are made majestic by the strong manly attributes that save the face from any suggestion of effeminacy. The attitude is dignified and expectant, the face calmly, seriously, solemnly impressive.

      Raphael has given us the beautiful head of Christ, shown with the crown of thorns on the brow. It is taken from the picture entitled "Carrying of the Cross." It is one of the most pathetic of the entire gallery, and the face is one of the most interesting studies of all pictures of Christ.

      In the original, Raphael depicts Christ bending beneath the weight of the heavy wooden cross. The suffering eyes look patiently out from the shadow of the plaited crown of thorns whose sharp thorns pierce the forehead. The genius of the artist was never more strikingly shown than in the expression of this face of Christ. Even with the suffering and pain depicted on the countenance there is plainly seen the sympathy of the divine nature that prompted the utterance "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do."

      There is no resentment, no trace of indignation. The artist has made the face one of heavenly beauty and tenderness, even in the dreadful hour of the cross.

      Among the best known of the Biblical paintings is Guido Reni's "Ecce Homo," showing Christ in the agonies of His last hores, with the crown of thorns on His head, and dying eyes turned heavenward. It is one of the most pathetic of all the head of Jesus, and is a great favorite with many people. It is doubtful whether any artist has given us a more beautiful conception of Christ than has Guido Reni in his  "Ecce Homo."

      A picture that is unique among the conceptions of Christ is that of Titian, called "The Tribute Money." Christ is here shown with a calmly judicial face, with a tinge of the sadness that all artists impart to the Savior's features; it is the face of one who reasons convincingly, but without a shade of triumph over the successful turning of solemn pitying rebuke the befits the subject.

      Just left, is Titian's painting "The Tribute Money." The Tribute Money (Italian: Cristo della moneta - literally Christ of the money) is a circa 1516 oil painting by Titian, now held at the Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister in Dresden. It is signed "Ticianus F.[ecit]". It depicts Christ and a Pharisee at the moment in the Gospels (Matthew 22:15-22, Mark 12:13-17, Luke 20:20-26) when Christ is shown a coin and says "Render unto Caesar..."

The Children

Cantoria (singing gallery) by Luca della Robbia, from the Basilica
di Santa Maria del Fiore, now in the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo.
Photographed in 2009.

      Longfellow said, "Ah, what would the world be to us if the children were no more?" for in their hearts "are the birds and the sunshine." in their thoughts "the brooklet's flow." In Florence there stands in the museum one of the best sermons in stone the world has ever enjoyed. "Frozen music" indeed are these exquisite "Singing Children" of Della Robbia.

      Just of the Via Propose, in Florence, that city called most appropriately the Lily of the Arno," is a narrow street wherein is located the Bargello. This building is veritable casket enclosing priceless treasures: a very sermon in stone, this mass of carving, this play of light and sunshine over the old columns and courts. Standing here since before the memory of man, history tells us it was erected for the chief magistrate of Florence and was renovated in 1373.
      Pass through the court of the stairway and loggia where Dante walked. Here we come to the superb Hall of the Judges, and find that for which we seek--the "Singing Children" of Luca Della Robbia. These exquisite carvings were executed for the organ loft of the cathedral. The choristers now rest in this magnificent hall. The figures of these animated children are an interesting study, separately or in groups. The merry faces; the dancing bodies; the eager fingers holding the choir books or instruments of music; the parted lips singing praises to the Lord.

Serene in the rapturous throng,

Unmoved by the rush of the song,

With eyes unimpassioned and slow,

Among the dead angels, the deathless

(Children) stand listening breathless

To sounds that ascend from below--

From the spirits on earth that adore,

From the souls that entreat and implore

In the fervor and passion of prayer;

From the hearts that are broken with 

losses,

And weary with dragging the crosses

Too heavy for mortals to bear.

      The creator of these exquisite carvings was Luca Della Robbia, born in 1388 in Florence. The world rolls on leaving behind a wide track of history. Here in the peaceful city, the quietly flowing river, the beautiful Arno, rolls murmuringly by this treasure-house on this narrow street, this home of the "Singing Children." Within, near the blue arch of heaven, the singing and dancing and playing girls and boys lift up their silent timbrels, as they have been doing during these centuries, as if in Easter rejoicing.
      The world rolls on, up the slopes of progression, and the world of art fills with pictures of beautiful children, good to look upon. Madonnas and the Christ child, playing children and singing children, mirthful children and sorrowful children. Truly what would this world be without children!

Easter Greetings for Good Housekeepers from Mission Fathers

      St. Diego, the founder of the first California mission in the South, should be the patron saint of all good housekeepers. The tale runs that he did so spiritualize the menial routine tasks of the Franciscan kitchen where he served that the angels came and took over his work.

      Murillo's painting, sometimes known as "La Cuisine des Anges," is the most inspiring mural decoration for the kitchen that we know of. Noble angels with meekly folded wings do draw and carry water and prepare the meat. Demure sweet girl angels gaily use mortar and pestle for the grinding of the food. And tiny cherubs, sitting on the floor, as they should pick over vegetables and fruit with joyfulness. and the mighty ones, the directors and father superiors, they witness with uplifted hands and abashed hearts, "The Miracle of St. Diego."

      This picture hangs in the Cloister Walk of the Glenwood Mission Inn, at Riverside, California, and there is besides a picture of the saint giving bread to the Indians, and a statue of him with "a spoon in hand" --the symbol of his office.

      A bread giver, one who goes with "a spoon in the hand," and love and humility in the heart--surely in these days when the world is so hungry in body, mind and spirit, the good St. Diego and his miracle has a revivifying Easter message for all of us, and especially for those whose privilege it is to nourish others, whether it be by providing daily bread for one's own family or for those across the world; or by feeding another's mind with a new thought about world old problems; or raising high the torch of one's own family or for those across the world; or by feeding another's mind with a new thought about world old problems; or raising high the torch of one's spirit to light another's path. 

      We commend to you this St. Diego, the patron of the Institute from now on! Only those can hope to have angels in their kitchens who have a true ideal of service in their own hearts! by Anne L. Pierce