Description

THE SON OF MAN

May 2015, Paris

“The Son of Man.” May two thousand fifteen. Fifty-two years old. One month before Laudato Si’. The crucified Christ before the Earth seen from space. Cosmic perspective. Earthrise iconography. The Son of Man, not Son of God, Son of Man, the name Jesus gave himself in the Gospels, eighty times, insisting on his humanity, his solidarity with suffering humanity, not distant divine but incarnate and close, and I was painting this Christ arms outstretched before the fragile blue planet, Europe Africa visible, white clouds, blue oceans, perfect sphere floating in cosmic void, and Christ protected it, embraced it, carried it, or was crucified by it, the four possible readings simultaneous, and May two thousand fifteen was the perfect moment for this painting, one month before Pope Francis published Laudato Si’, the first major papal encyclical on ecology, “praised be you,” Christian responsibility toward Creation, critique of destructive capitalism, call to save the planet our common home, and I one month earlier in my Parisian studio was painting exactly that, the cosmic Christ protecting the Earth, convergence of ecology and spirituality, and I did not know that the Pope was going to publish Laudato Si’ one month later, it was in the air, emerging ecological consciousness, preparation for COP21 in Paris December two thousand fifteen, crucial climate negotiations, hope for a global agreement, and Christ before the Earth embodied this hope, yes we can save the planet, yes Christ still embraces the whole Earth, yes protection is possible, and ten years later November two thousand twenty-five I would paint Soledad, Christ collapsed at the edge of the earthly path, resigned, watching our downfall, tragic evolution from cosmic hope to earthly fatigue, but in May two thousand fifteen hope still held, Christ still held, arms outstretched, magnificent, powerful, cosmic.

I remember the moment I saw for the first time the Earthrise photo, Earth seen from lunar orbit, Apollo 8, December nineteen sixty-eight, mythical image that had triggered the modern ecological movement, collective awareness, the Earth is fragile, unique, our only home, small blue marble in the black immensity, and this image had overwhelmed me, the nineties, I was still in Romania, and I looked at this photo and felt something vertiginous, we are so small, our planet is so fragile, and now May two thousand fifteen twelve years after my exile in Paris I was taking up this iconography but adding Christ, Christ crucified before the Earth, and this addition changed everything, it was no longer just a scientific photo, it was a spiritual icon, the cosmic Christ, the universal Christ, not limited to first-century Judea but present at the planetary cosmic scale, and his outstretched arms were no longer just a crucifixion posture but a gesture of embrace, I protect this Earth, I embrace it, I carry it, like Atlas carrying the world, reference to my painting “Me God of the Earth” from two thousand ten five years earlier, but there it was me as Atlas carrying the seven pillars of civilization, human hubris, and now it was Christ carrying the entire Earth, divine humility, cosmic sacrifice, and the difference was essential, me as Atlas was pride, Christ before the Earth was love, and May two thousand fifteen I had evolved from hubris to love, from me to Christ, from ego to compassion.

May two thousand fifteen. The world continued its mad course. On the twenty-first of May ISIS took Palmyra, ancient Syrian city, world heritage, and would destroy the Temple of Bel, iconoclastic barbarism, destruction of beauty, and the shipwrecks continued in the Mediterranean, a thousand dead in April-May, migrants fleeing wars and misery, drowned en masse, floating bodies, and Europe watched, powerless or indifferent, and France was still traumatized by Charlie Hebdo four months earlier, January two thousand fifteen, terrorist attacks, twelve dead, questions about religion violence identity, and I was painting the crucified Christ before the Earth and thinking of all this suffering, Palmyra destroyed, migrants drowned, journalists assassinated, and Christ carried all that, of course he carried all that, the Son of Man always carries human suffering, it is his function, his destiny, his curse and his glory, and the Earth behind him was beautiful, blue, alive, but threatened, by the climate that was unraveling, by the wars that proliferated, by the indifference that grew, and Christ arms outstretched tried to protect, to embrace, to save, but could he still, did he still have the strength, the faith, the hope, and May two thousand fifteen I believed yes, I painted with this faith, Christ can still save the Earth, humanity can still redeem itself, COP21 will succeed, Laudato Si’ will change consciences, everything will work out, magnificent naivety, necessary hope, and ten years later I would know that no, nothing had been fixed, everything had worsened, and the Christ of Soledad would be collapsed, resigned, but in May two thousand fifteen I did not yet know, I painted with hope, with faith, with love.

And the title, “The Son of Man,” a crucial choice, not The Christ, not Jesus, not The Savior, but “The Son of Man,” the name Jesus gave himself in the Gospels, “The Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head,” “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve,” “The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men,” always Son of Man, rarely Son of God, for Jesus insisted on his humanity, on his solidarity with suffering humanity, he was not distant inaccessible God but close vulnerable man, and that is what touched me, this humanity of Christ, this incarnation, and The Son of Man also meant representative of all humanity, not just him Jesus but all humans, each of us is son of man, son of humanity, solidary with the human community, responsible for the common Earth, and Christ before the Earth embodied this universal responsibility, look, we are all responsible for this planet, we are all crucified by our own destructions, we are all called to protect embrace save, and Christ showed the way, arms outstretched, cosmic sacrifice, universal love.

The composition was simple, frontal, iconic, Christ at center, Earth behind, cosmos around, minimal trinity, human planet cosmos, body soul spirit, matter life consciousness, and Christ connected the three, cosmic mediator, bridge between us and the Earth, between Earth and cosmos, and his outstretched arms were the gesture of this mediation, I connect opposites, I embrace contradictions, I make the Earth-Heaven link, and the invisible cross on which he was crucified was the axis of the world, axis mundi, cosmic pillar, and without this cross, without this pillar, without this Christ, the world would collapse, the Earth would dislocate, the cosmos would return to chaos, and May two thousand fifteen I still believed in this function of Christ, guardian of cosmic order, protector of universal harmony, and I painted with this faith, each brushstroke affirmed this truth, yes Christ still holds, yes order persists, yes hope exists, and the Earth behind him was so beautiful, so blue, so alive, Europe Africa visible, my two continents, Romania and France, east and west, origin and exile, and the white clouds like blessings, and the blue oceans like promises, and everything was still possible, everything was still saveable, May two thousand fifteen, one month before Laudato Si’, five months before COP21, the ecological spiritual world converged, emerging consciousness, collective hope, and Christ before the Earth embodied this hope, I am with you, I protect you, I embrace you, have faith, have courage, everything will be fine.

And the iconographic references I had in mind, Byzantine Orthodox icons of my Romanian childhood, Christ Pantocrator, Christ in majesty, circular golden halo, abstract mandorla, and I replaced the golden halo with the blue Earth, concrete cosmic mandorla, ecological halo, and Christ was no longer only king of heaven but protector of the Earth, and Dalí also, his Christ of St. John of the Cross from nineteen fifty-one, crucified Christ seen from above, unusual cosmic perspective, and I was inspired by it but changed the perspective, not from above but from front, frontal, iconic, Christ looks at us, the Earth looks at us, we are implicated, responsible, and the mystical tradition of the cosmic Christ, Teilhard de Chardin, the Omega Christ, point of convergence of all cosmic evolution, and I inscribed myself in this tradition, Christ was not just a historical figure from the first century but a universal principle present at all scales, cellular planetary cosmic, and his crucifixion was not a punctual event but a perpetual process, every destruction is a crucifixion, every suffering is a crucifixion, and Christ carries everything, eternally, cosmically, universally.

The white perizonium, linen around the hips, the only truly luminous element along with the Earth’s clouds, brilliant white, purity amid suffering, innocence amid blood, and I worked this white carefully, thick touches, palpable matter, and the contrast with Christ’s brown-red body, tortured flesh, visible wounds, flowing blood, crown of thorns driven into the skull, and the outstretched arms stretched taut, muscles extended, intense physical pain, but at the same time serenity, acceptance, love, and the face tilted slightly forward, gaze downward, toward the Earth, toward us, infinite compassion, and I painted this Christ with tenderness, with respect, with faith perhaps, complicated faith, ambiguous faith, I don’t know if I truly believe in the divine Christ Son of God resurrected, but I believe in the human Christ symbol of compassion sacrifice love, and that was the Christ I was painting, human cosmic, universal Son of Man, and the Earth behind him was his enlarged body, the Earth had become the body of Christ, cosmic eucharist, “this is my body,” and to wound the Earth was to wound Christ, to destroy the planet was to crucify again, and May two thousand fifteen at the moment of ecological awareness I was showing this mystical truth, the Earth is sacred, the Earth is the body of Christ, respect it, protect it, love it.

May two thousand fifteen flowed by, Parisian spring, flowering, light, renewal, and I in my studio painted this cosmic Christ with an energy I had not felt for a long time, something deep was unblocking, something essential was expressing itself, and the canvas grew, two hundred by one hundred thirty centimeters, monumental vertical format, and Christ and Earth had the same visual size, equivalent importance, one human equals one planet, one planet equals one human, mystical equation, cosmological truth, and I painted the black-blue background, cosmos, infinite space, absolute silence, cosmic solitude, and no visible stars or very few, just Christ Earth Void, sufficient minimal trinity, and the composition held, balanced, powerful, iconic, and I knew it was successful, that the work functioned, visually symbolically spiritually, it said what it had to say, Christ protects the Earth, Christ embraces the Earth, Christ carries the Earth, and we must help him, we must participate in this cosmic gesture of love and protection, and May two thousand fifteen one month before Laudato Si’ five months before COP21 this was the necessary urgent essential message, let us save the planet, let us save Christ, let us save ourselves.

Ten years later, November two thousand twenty-five, I would paint “Soledad,” and the evolution would be tragic, vertiginous, from the protective cosmic Christ to the collapsed earthly Christ, from outstretched arms embracing the planet to the crouched body watching our downfall, from hope to resignation, from May two thousand fifteen to November two thousand twenty-five, ten years of descent, of successive collapses, Brexit Trump Putin climate covid Gaza, cascading defeats, and Christ had not been able to protect, had not been able to save, had not been able to prevent, and now he sat at the edge of the path, overwhelmed, unable to set out again, painful necessary consciousness, forced surveillance, and I would understand that the two works answered each other, “The Son of Man” the cosmic hope, “Soledad” the earthly despair, the two faces of the same reality, of the same humanity that dreams and collapses, that believes and fails, that hopes and despairs, and me between the two, aging exiled artist, obstinately painting his Christs, witnessing this absurd time, this impossible era, May two thousand fifteen still hope, November two thousand twenty-five already despair, and between the two ten years of life, ten years of creation, ten years of struggle.

The Son of Man. May two thousand fifteen. One month before Laudato Si’. Five months before COP21. The crucified Christ before the Earth. Cosmic perspective. Earthrise iconography. Arms outstretched. Protection. Embrace. Sacrifice. The Son of Man. Not Son of God. Humanity. Solidarity. Compassion. Vertical format. Two hundred by one hundred thirty centimeters. Christ and Earth equivalent size. Equal importance. Blue mandorla. Cosmic halo. White perizonium. Purity. Black cosmos. Silence. Solitude. Minimal trinity. Human planet cosmos. Body soul spirit. Mediator. Bridge. Axis of the world. Axis mundi. Ten years before Soledad. Cosmic hope. Before the fall. Before the collapse. Before resignation. May two thousand fifteen. Christ still embraced. The Earth was still saveable. Humanity still had a chance. Hope. Faith. Love. Forever May two thousand fifteen. Forever The Son of Man.