Today, almost no one will deny that medieval art represents the spirituality of the Orthodox Church most convincingly – especially since neo-Byzantine icons are increasingly found in the temples of the various Christian denominations.
However, the revival of this style in ecclesiastical painting constantly provokes a number of very delicate questions. Which tradition of medieval heritage should be referred to and in what way?
What style of painting can bring this iconographic richness into today’s church life in an appropriate way? Despite the current overproduction of icons – or perhaps because of it – it seems that contemporary icon painters are constantly trying to ignore these questions, and persistently avoid answering them. Nikola Sarić, however, is one of the small number of artists who are not afraid of this task.
In an attempt to uncompromisingly and boldly answer the questions posed by the church painter from his historical context, the artist takes us on a journey from the past to the future. In doing so, he speaks an artistic language that can really be said to be capable of uniting seemingly incompatible worlds.
In the revival of the “Byzantine style” in church painting, which continued throughout the twentieth century, it was assumed that the last phase of medieval art was the only logical formal-stylistic guideline on which the aesthetic design of contemporary icons should be based. We place Nikola Sarić in the group of painters who want to question just that. In the context of current art trends, the idea of a simple aesthetic connection to a single historical point is simply no longer tenable.
In the 90s of the 20th century, Serbian and Russian church painting renewed interest in stylistic solutions that were more archaic and expressive than the ancient, classicist style, which was understood as the last phase of the development of Byzantine art in the Middle Ages. However, if one no longer wants to tie in exclusively with this medieval tradition, new interest opens up in all other phases of Christian art history – like a confusing conservative-liberal Pandora’s box.
It is not too surprising, then, that the historical and geographical backward movement intensifies to the point where it catapults this aesthetic exploration – like a kind of flywheel – to stylistic coordinates beyond the Byzantine and also the Christian framework in a broader sense. These coordinates go back to Coptic, Armenian, Ethiopian, Early Christian and Late Roman, Roman, Hellenistic and even Ancient Egyptian and Mesopotamian art.
Immersing themselves in the past, the youngest generation of icon painters – planned or accidental – enters into a kind of artistic dialogue with non-church culture – Christian
and non-Christian.
Of course, the use of historical art styles here takes on a very specific – and surprisingly creative – aesthetic dimension.
The method used is quite modern, more precisely postmodern, in its struggle against narrow-minded ideological consciousness, this time in the Church. Church painting, with a bold and uncompromising attitude that draws inspiration from archaic artistic styles, can no longer remain quietly in the “historical reserve” and pretend that it is perfectly spontaneous to connect with the (Palaeological) medieval artistic heritage, but instead, using modern means of communication, reach into the recently opened universe of cultural history to reap the fruits that which offer themselves aesthetically and theologically. The medieval masters would probably have done the same if they had had the opportunity.
Although, as you can see, Nikola Sarić is not completely alone in this research, he certainly brings the most courageous and innovative solutions of this kind. In his work, the conglomerate of stylistic quotations is not transformed into a monotonous collage that only says something about the painter’s erudition or about the need to surprise the viewer. Rather, it is a highly conceptual narrative and represents an unusually intense experience, because it combines the forms of all the art style sources into a confusing and dazzling aesthetic whole.
Of course, the way in which Sarić combines extremely divergent elements of painting into a well-rounded artistic idea will never fully open up to us, because behind his projects lies this cognitive excess that is inherent in original creations.
Thanks to this excess, Nikola Sarić’s performance speaks to us with emotional immediacy and intellectual thoughtfulness that complement each other perfectly. Every composition, every figure, every portrait and even every brushstroke radiates this exciting immediate-intellectual dynamic that unites irreconcilable contradictions and distant worlds.
Authentic Christian art speaks to us again after so many centuries with surprising power and topicality.
One of the most important factors, which in turn give this art an original Christian character, are of course its protagonists. But the way in which the design of the portraits is elevated to a particularly dynamic communicative level ultimately seals the fact that these paintings can be recognized as a highly authentic artistic incarnation of the Gospel message.
Sarić’s characters with wide, wide-open eyes refer to the portraits of early Byzantine art – such as in the mosaics in Ravenna or in the church of St. Demetrius of Thessalonica – but also give us a new kind of feeling: a little confused, surprised, almost unaccustomed to the presence of an observer who looks at them carefully, these people (and angels) seem to be, after all, they are still very familiar with the distinctions between the public and private spheres.
Despite the constant, resolute and unchanging physical postures, adopted from the most hieratic historical figurative tradition, their facial expressions can give the impression that they feel a little uncomfortable in view of the fact that their faith is so publicly displayed to the whole world. It is clear at first glance that this contemporary Saint Demetrius, like the one depicted 14 centuries ago in the famous Basilica of Thessalonica, would not hesitate to suffer for Christ. But he also seems to be aware that the portrayal of himself and his actions can be used to establish a hierarchy that does not originally correspond to him.
The medieval ideal of man – in a world based on clearly defined hierarchical structures – could not even dare to show this kind of feeling, but the modern, postmodern cannot not show it.
The contemporary saint cannot be an authentic witness of the faith if it is associated with some kind of hierarchical pressure, precisely because the Gospel teaches modern Christians not to build trust in structures based on power and coercion.
Therefore, Sarić’s Saint Demetrius feels a bit uncomfortable in the hieratic poses, which are brought into a rigidity by the ingenious artistic intervention.
The entire game with hieratic styles in the history of art acquires particularly inspiring semantic levels under such light.
The ironically deconstructed logic of natural religions, which are based on primitive social and religious power structures that we – we should not be deterred – have not been able to pacify and Christianize to this day, loses its basis: fear. In contrast to portraits of Egyptian pharaohs, this new aesthetic (pseudo-)hieratism no longer frightens its viewers.
Moreover, thanks to Nikola Sarić’s stylistic inventions and his astonishing expressive momentum, his icons are devoid of any intention that could arise from a position of fear or power.
The only thing his Saint Demetrius could be afraid of is that his position could seem powerful and coercive to the viewer. Although medieval art also sought such a message, it did not have enough aesthetic elements available to express it.
As can be seen from the works of Nikola Sarić, modern church painting has taken these elements into its own hands and, in an effort to revive the message of the Gospel, has begun to realize its own expressive possibilities in a completely authentic way.
Excerpt from “Akathistos to Saint Demetrius in Pictures by Nikola Sarić”, Hanover 2014, ISBN 978-3-00-046990-9