Creating the City of God (Darkness and Elegance of the Middle Ages)

Author: Wang Pingli
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-01-01
Features: After the glorious Greece and Rome, Europe was brewing a new temperament. It was said to be cold and cruel. This temperament was so different from that of Greece and Rome that later generations regarded the next thousand years as a deformed era and gave it a fixed name, the "Dark Ages." This cannot be called anything but ironic: since the Middle Ages, God has ruled the minds of Europeans. Wasn't it in the beginning of the Book of Genesis that God said, "Let there be light"? Yet this devout thousand years was later called the "Dark Ages." Where did the light God brought go? This is a simple question. However, this question exposed the flaws of the term "Dark Ages": the term "Dark Ages" was a slander or at least a misunderstanding of the entire Middle Ages, especially its art. If it was a slander, it wasn't surprising. Enlightenment thinkers harbored an excessive aversion to everything about the Middle Ages. They longed to portray all bishops as greedy little men and all monks as ignorant fools, fabricating many stories to that effect. This practice began with Boccaccio's Decameron. Modern scientists took it for granted that many Middle Age concepts were foolish. For example, they believed that people in the Middle Ages insisted the Earth was the center of the universe due to ignorance and the church's indoctrination. In reality, the idea that the Earth was round and revolved around the sun was not shocking or bizarre in the Middle Ages, because the astronomical knowledge passed down from Greece had many admirers in the Middle Ages. The Greeks had long suspected that the Earth was not the center of the universe. However, ideas alone were not enough to spread them widely; they needed mathematical persuasion. In this regard, the mathematical model of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) provided a relatively complete solution for the intellectual world of the entire Middle Ages. Aquinas's premise was that the Earth was the center of the universe, so monks and believers gradually accepted the geocentric concept. If Aquinas had assumed that the Sun was the center of the universe and had successfully explained it mathematically, it is likely that the astronomical concepts of the Middle Ages would have been no different from today's. Once Aquinas's theory was widely accepted and regarded as orthodox, it would naturally require a struggle to overturn it, which is why Copernicus, Bruno, and Galileo were threatened and persecuted by the Church. This was not a flaw of the Middle Age Church but a flaw of all people and all societies. Modern society also has authority and orthodoxy, and anyone wishing to completely subvert it would face suppression no less severe than that faced by heretics in the Middle Age Church. If it was a misunderstanding, it also stemmed from a prejudice. Europeans, like the Chinese, suffer from the same problem of valuing the past over the present. Ancient Greek and Roman art satisfied the romantic tastes of modern Europeans. It was more ancient than the Middle Ages, and ancient things were said to radiate a natural sincerity, grandeur, and beauty. Although we know that the ancient era was far from lacking cunning, bloodshed, greed, and fraud, and that even today, some people still possess an innate sincerity, grandeur, and beauty, of course. Of course, Middle Age art was indeed very different from that of ancient Greece and Rome. If we were to summarize it superficially with some words, it would be that ancient Greek and Roman art reflected confidence, positivity, brightness, and dignity, whether in the works themselves or in their creators. It is known that the Greeks dared to compete with the gods in skill, and the Romans established a world empire unprecedented in history. The spirit of Caesar's "I came, I saw, I conquered" permeated the ideology of his successors. Middle Age art, on the other hand, was almost the opposite—it was the most humble art in history. Under the premise of original sin, people's confidence and dignity were absurd. Before the twisted body and tragic face of Christ, the nudity of the Greeks used to show off beauty, and the grandeur of the Roman temples used to demonstrate divinity—was it not arrogant? This was the starting point of Middle Age artists. In their view, the forms and colors used in art were always imperfect means. To deliberately pursue realism like the Greeks was meaningless, because God could never be depicted by human hands. Therefore, shapes and colors could only be auxiliary, not allowing people's eyes to linger only on the artwork itself—this was "losing oneself in trifles"! Instead, one should experience deeper, more spiritual meanings through hints, metaphors, implications, and symbols in the artwork. The revelation and will of God were vast and profound, and they deserved the viewer's reverent and pious contemplation. This was the backbone behind all Middle Age artworks. Therefore, Middle Age art was a reflective art, constantly reminding the viewer of their status and faith. Before God, humans were humble, but they lived in God and were forever connected to Him. Artworks became a medium between humans and God, making them more philosophical and emphasizing the spiritual. Middle Age artists also achieved this effect through many methods. For example, painting and sculpture did not deliberately aim for realism but pursued symbolic, flat, and decorative effects, intending to create an atmosphere. Churches, meanwhile, increasingly created an interior effect of towering height, depth, shifting light and shadow, and a mystical, ethereal ambiance. All of this was designed to evoke a spiritual touch, as if it came from the effusion of a hidden sacred radiance. Yet, for such a spiritual pursuit, for hundreds of years, we have been naming it "dark and ignorant." How cruel is that? Artworks inevitably face such a dilemma: the more concrete, realistic, and sensory, like the Greek Venus or Poseidon, the more easily they trap people in the cage of the eyes. People cannot transcend visual delight and intoxication, no longer wanting or able to say anything. Any description or praise is redundant, because it has already surpassed the limits of positive verbal depiction. That is why modern aestheticians often mention that beauty cannot be analyzed and cannot be mixed with concepts. The more abstract, expressive, and rational, like Middle Age art, the more easily it allows people to pass directly through the artwork itself to confront what it symbolizes, and this kind of beauty is analyzable and can be thought about and imagined. These were the two artistic styles in Europe before the emergence of modern art, and they were not particularly superior or inferior to each other. "Dark" is more of a description of Middle Age artistic style than a critique. Deep within the towering and profound Gothic cathedrals, there were stunning sculptures, paintings, stained glass windows, and chandeliers. Perhaps the cathedral itself was a microcosm of Middle Age art. The cathedral was the Middle Ages' "spiritual box," and its stunning aspects lay in its dark interior, just as human beauty lies in the depths of the heart—where love for God resides—a longing for salvation that all people in all ages share. This book has broad practical value and can serve as a reference book and practical resource for Western architecture and culture researchers, students and faculty of architectural institutions, practical art workers, travel enthusiasts, and the general public interested in Western culture.