1148. CHRIST AT THE COLUMN.
Velazquez (Spanish; 1599-1660). See 197.
An intensely dramatic rendering of the central lesson of Christianity. The scene depicted is an episode from the Passion between the scourging and the crowning with thorns—a scene not given in the Gospels, and invented to produce a more vivid effect than representations of familiar scenes. The absence of all decorative accessories concentrates the attention at once on the figure of the Divine sufferer—bound by the wrists to the column. His hands are swollen and blackened by the cords; the blood has trickled down the shoulder—so terrible was the punishment—and the scourges and rod have been flung contemptuously at his feet. Yet abnegation of self and Divine compassion are stamped indelibly on his countenance, as he turns his head to the child who is kneeling in adoration. The guardian angel behind bids the child approach the Redeemer in prayer (hence the alternative title that has been given to the picture, "The Institution of Prayer"). From the wise and prudent the lessons of Christianity are often hidden, but Christ himself here reveals them unto babes. "He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." A thin white line, a ray, reaches from the position of the heart to the Saviour's ear—
To see sad sights moves more than hear them told,
For then the heart interprets to the ear
The heavy motion that it doth behold.
The angel is a portrait (a preparatory study from a model is included amongst the collection of drawings made by Cean Bermudez). The downcast eye, the slightly pouting lips, as if about to weep, betray the harrowing expression of the moment. This expression shows fine invention, for it might have been more natural for the eye to follow the hand directing the child's attention to the figure. But the angel fears himself to look, lest he be overcome with grief. The tone of the picture is in keeping with its theme. There probably exists no other painting executed in such a decidedly gray, blackish-gray tone, although it is by no means colourless, as seen in the orange-brown and dull crimson of the angel's costume, which are peculiar to Velazquez. It is as if, after the terrible event that has here taken place, mourning Nature had strewn the scene with a fine shower of ashes, as after some tremendous volcanic outburst (Justi's Velazquez and his Times, pp. 241-248).