Iconography: "Smile, Jesus!"

I just completed my third lesson in iconography with teacher Betsy Porter at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal this afternoon. Betsy was taking some pictures of students' icons in various stages of washes, floats, and highlights. She asked me to hold up one icon she just recently finished, of "Christ in Glory." I held it up, Betsy pointed the camera at it, and she said with that little wry smile of hers, "Smile, Jesus!" It didn't occur to me until I was on the train back to Davis that her commanding her icon to smile when she photographed it was a rather unusual thing. If the icon is usually understood to speak the unspeakable of the Divine to the gazer, can the icon also incorporate an earthly demand or two into its performance repertoire? I'm sure Jesus smiled for Betsy. All of us students always do what she tells us--Jesus should be no exception.

Today I laid the foundational tempera paints in large swaths over the board according to the design I had already drawn out. At first Betsy mixed the paints for me, but then after two or three colors, allowed me to scoop the tiny grains of natural pigment into the palate, add the egg yolk and white wine base, and dilute with water to the proper consistency. She showed me how to test the paint on a piece of white paper first, using the proper circular brushstroke. I'm not yet sure why, but the base paints need to be rather grainy. Betsy added iron red and sandy yellow orchre to the tones that will lay under the flesh and garments of St. Clare. Perhaps this is so the finer colors adhere to the board later on?

My lesson in brushstroke technique was economic but unforgettable. Betsy took the brush from me and said, "An iconographer never makes a stroke like THIS" (she sliced a straight line through the air). "That's not humble. Little circles. Little circles." She showed me how to fill in the color in a motled pattern, laying the paint so that it created a smooth, wet surface, with the granules of iron or clay spread evenly beneath. I immediately understood what she meant about not painting defining lines. The pigment will leave a streak on the board if you paint in long strokes, where what you want is the illusion of no strokes at all. Be self-effacing. This is not about you and your ego making a mark. This is about embracing the labor of the process, being patient.

I grew to rather enjoy the scent of egg yolk and white wine. Reminded me of French cuisine.

Pictures when I get my camera working again.