Antonio Mifsud is an artist who is synonymous with the sacred art genre. His current exhibition, hosted by Mosta’s Soċjetà Filarmonika Nicolò Isouard, is an exploration of biblical narratives through painting, relief and sculpture. Its title, Kapitli t’Alla (God’s Book of Verses), is indicative of the ethos of the exhibition, as each of the works is accompanied by quotations from the Bible. One could regard the whole set-up as a pictorial/literary journey – indeed, stanzas in a more all-encompassing, multidisciplinary poem of dualities and contrasts.
Our religion thrives in such a milieu – light and dark, chaos and cosmos, good and evil, heaven and hell, sin and redemption, God and Satan; a reflection of the human condition which is governed by paradoxes that affect all of us, even the most grounded and steadfast among us. Balancing these contrasts is life’s everyday struggle.
Mifsud’s work as a nurse at Mater Dei Hospital exposes him to much pain and human drama, to life-and-death situations, to hope and heartbreak.
“I’m a person who tries to divest myself of the drama at the hospital by focusing on my art when back home. We are all human, after all, and these dualities that are part and parcel of my nursing profession, could resurface in my art,” he says.
Many episodes of suffering are narrated in the gospels, culminating with the passion and death of Jesus Christ.
“Every morning, many patients at hospital greet the new day with ‘ajma’.”
This lament is ingrained in the fabric of the Maltese language, its relative relevance can be discerned in different contexts – it could be an expression of painful physical discomfort of a bedridden patient or a voicing of intolerance at some silly comment. It could also be a vocalising of daily abstract, existential pain while rationalising the weight of the cross one might have to bear.
Antonio Mifsud“The ‘ajma’ appears in some of my work, such as in the fall of Christ under the weight of the cross while going up Golgotha. The lament can affect one in hidden and indirect ways as well. These experiences have also matured me in my art as the iconography, steeped in dualities, steers away from conventional − for instance, from the pre-creational void to ‘let there be light’ that you can find in some of the pieces – all these contrasts that I encounter daily at work, I translate as components or elements in my compositions.”
In-NazzarenuThe cry is heavenward and helpless, as if seeking redress and relief through divine intervention. Kapitli t’Alla can be read as such a cry as well as a call for an introspective recalibration and revaluation. One of the comments on the visitor’s book, “daħħaltni ġo qoxorti” (loosely translated as ‘you induced in me a humbling reality check’), indicates that Mifsud has managed to get his message through.
Saul“Most of the visitors have remarked that their experience of the exhibition was a more holistic one, one that transcends the visual. This could be due to the fact that these chapters provide a literary journey, besides an obvious visual one. Each of the pieces is related to written verse,” he notes.
Talking about particular pieces, Mifsud says: “Psalm 22 directs you to imagery of the cross. Visitors have said that there are three crucifixes exhibited; yet I ascertain that there are four as one of them is abstracted, away from what one finds in churches. I have sought to interpret literature and integrate it with art, thus suggesting new layers and an alternative spiritual dimension.”
“In the past, priests and parents used to frighten the young and the innocent through scary narratives of a vengeful divine retribution and devilish punishment if they were to err in their ways. I reinterpreted these narratives through chromatic contrast as a balance of opposites. I also want to depict the whole trajectories of certain biblical episodes, thus depicting the whole picture,” he remarks.
Close-up of 'Risen'The creative process
Mifsud’s versatility in his choices and manipulation of medium – whether painting, high relief or sculpture – flows naturally and organically throughout this exhibition.
“Which medium my choice falls upon as regards the execution of a particular piece is a very fluid process. One work could be eye-opening and could lead me to embark on another; I would say that the concept of a new work sees the light of day even while working on a preliminary piece,” he says.
“For example, purgatory is the theme of one particular painting, while in another bearing the title Novissimi, I integrated heaven, purgatory and hell into one scenario. However, the former artwork suggested the path for the latter one to follow.”
Novissimi close-upNovissimi refers to the Four Last Things of Man (from the Latin quattuor novissima). These are death, judgement, heaven and hell as the four last stages of the soul in life and the afterlife. Religious iconography doesn’t usually include all four stages but traditionally tackles them one by one. The Maltese artist took this one step further by the creation of a frieze-like work that documents all stages. This is certainly a contemporary and fresh take on sacred art.
“The wood is etched – as one has to earn heaven. I used the Dantesque Divina Commedia idiom of different strata or layers by incorporating the oddities and texture of the wood panel into the composition. I added another dimension – the imprint of the texture symbolising the human ache to attain a divine state,” Mifsud elucidates.
Tracey Emin and Gerhard Richter
“Redemption is the central theme of all my oeuvre. Although one might think that the work of certain contemporary artists is not my piece of cake, I follow the careers of artists like Tracey Emin, Gerhard Richter and others. They are genuine artists who, in their own way, are seeking a personal path to redemption,” Mifsud affirms.
ImmacolataEmin’s work is very raw and touches issues such as rape, substance abuse, sexual experiences, gender and her brush with cancer that left her severely debilitated. Her art is one of deep-rooted pain, vulnerability and steadfastness in the wake of personal tragedies, an intense autobiography.
“Emin talks about rape or her menopause and ways to come to terms with them. I empathise with her ordeals and my art shows this. A naked body of Christ hanging in the void is set off against the vibrant red, a colour that in this context suggests denigration and derision, essentially a more contemporary Ecce Homo. My Ecce Homo is far removed from his counterpart found in Maltese churches,” the artist maintains.
Richter’s work is all about chromatic balance and spirituality in that balance. In the German artist’s words: “Now there are no priests or philosophers left, artists are the most important people in the world.” So it follows that artists have to walk in their shoes. In a chaotic world that reviles all shackles, sacred art reminds us of a cosmos and maybe a heaven out there that balance out this berserk chaotic reality.
“A question of different cultures is always to be taken into consideration, I’m Maltese, Richter is German and Emin is English – our DNA is embedded in different cultures. All artists are sensitive and deal with situations in their own personal way, while delving into their own personal baggage. However, we all feel pain in much the same way.
“For example, I interpreted the sensual pull of our physical body through Jesus’s temptation in the desert and by integrating the abstract and the figurative. Each one of us experiences these temptations; we are easily seduced and behave like magnets attracting temptation and evil. These are emotions, i.e. the abstract dimension, that our body, i.e. the physical presence, reacts to.”
The dualities can be deciphered in a good proportion of Mifsud’s work in this exhibition. The paradox is consistent through the pushing/pulling effect of these opposites − the figurative versus the abstract, the monochrome versus colour, sculpture versus painting. At times, all of them come together into one single work.
New directions in Maltese contemporary sacred art
Doubts about his art, and how it resonates with the public, sometimes trouble Mifsud.
“I’m living in today’s world, and I always wonder if I’m able to interpret the sacred genre in a contemporary way that would be viable, fresh and would deliver a universal message.”
“I often debate with myself about what’s genuine in art, especially contemporary sacred art. In Malta in the 20th century, sacred art was developing in strides, especially in the second half of it, but then I feel that it got waylaid and lost its forward sense of direction.”
These considerations are symptomatic of an artist who is always in search of new directions, particularly in a genre which is very receptive and prone to cliché. Silence is a characteristic that permeates valid sacred art; thus, it instigates in the viewer a sense of introspection, self-discovery and meditation. This stillness is of more significance as people need to rediscover themselves spiritually for this crazy, noisy world to become a better place.
John Milton, in Paradise Lost, declared: “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” It is just a question of interpreting dualities, which is a trademark of Mifsud’s oeuvre.
Il-Kapitli t’Alla, hosted by Mosta’s Soċjetà Filarmonika Nicolò Isouard, is open until Sunday, October 31. Opening hours are 6.30 to 9pm on Friday and Saturday, and 9am to noon and 6.30 to 9pm on Sunday. COVID-19 restrictions apply.
Jericho