Portable Prayers

Exotic, ornate icons served as spiritual reassurance in Old Russia

by Daniel Bibb

Russia. The very name brings to mind a land of czarist palaces, lost princesses, and of course, icons. When viewing an icon, you are looking into the very soul of a land that for centuries has produced some of the most beautiful and dazzling religious artwork the world has ever seen.

My collection ranges from the 16th century to the 20th century, a wonderful cross-view of Russian icon painting during what must be considered some of the most important and fascinating times in the country’s history.

After studying the country’s history from the years after the Russian Revolution, I am surprised that any icons survived. Up to the time of the revolution, Russia was literally bursting with icons. They were given at special events such as weddings and funerals, exchanged by friends and families, and handed down through generations. In fact, there were so many gold-encased icons and icon panels in Russian churches and monasteries that the buildings’ interiors seemed to be covered in gold. Now, all of that is almost gone. Yet, Russia is trying to salvage its great religious history. During the Bolshevik and Communist years, many Russian churches were torn down and the icons destroyed. Sometimes, they were used as firewood or to make shipping crates. Thousands of Russian peasants tried to save favorite icons by hiding them when their churches were closed and scheduled for demolition. Such wanton destruction has wounded the very heart of Russia, and now, years after the fall of the Soviet Union, the nation is beginning to realize what it has lost, both in its deeply religious traditions and in its artistic patrimony.

It is interesting to note that the holiest icon in Russia is not Russian at all. The “Virgin of Vladimir” is a Byzantine icon, painted in Constantinople around 1311 and then brought to Russia. Today the icon shows its age and its many travails. Not much is left of the original painting. What you can see is centuries of “restoration” — repeated overpainting of damaged areas. But even in this rather tattered and strange condition, the picture is one of sad tenderness. It is an image of a mother’s love for here son, the Son of God. The “Virgin of Vladimir” is the only known icon in Russia from Byzantine times; others are believed to have been destroyed by the Mongol invasions of the 13th century. Thus, it is the Byzantine style that was evident in the earliest Russian-made icons. Other styles would come soon thereafter.

An icon is literally a “holy image.” Since the vast majority of Old Russia’s population was illiterate, these holy images served as instruments of instruction as well as objects of veneration. The “red corner” of a peasant’s shack was where the family’s icons were placed. Prayers of thanksgiving and deliverance would fervently be addressed to Christ, to the Virgin Mary, or to one of the many Russian Saints.

According to tradition, the creation of an icon is a prayer fashioned into a tangible, dimensional object. It is revered as something holy and sacred. When making an icon, the creator first selected the type of wood panel; indigenous types such as cypress, lime and pine were common. Large panels were created by joining together as many as four boards with animal glue. Many icons created before the 19th century have the large, central area of the panel carved out to form a recess leaving a slightly raised border. Cleats, or reinforcing slats, were hammered onto the back of the panel to help prevent warping. Despite this precaution, many icons still warped and even split in two.

Next, the panel was left to cure for up to six years and then passed to an icon draftsman who closely followed a guidebook. After coating the panel with as many as 12 layers of gesso, the draftsman sketched the design to his satisfaction, and then replaced the sketched areas with black pigment. Gilding was applied next. The painter’s palette was simple — perhaps only a few basic colors — but only a few colors were needed to crate a stunning effect.

Icon painting was usually rendered in egg tempera. Egg was the binding agent for the colors, and it produced a durable, beautiful finish. After painting, the icon was allowed to dry for several months. Then a solution of linseed oil, white lead and resin was applied over the painted surface. This gave the icon a slightly golden quality. Unfortunately, many icons have become dark over the years because of the linseed oil varnish absorbed soot and dirt until the original image was almost hidden. The Russian answer to this problem was to repaint the image on top of the original. Sometimes this over-painting was performed several times during the course of an icon’s life. A panel that may appear to date back to the 19th century actually could conceal a 16th or 17th century masterpiece that has been restored over and over.

An interesting embellishment to many icons is the riza, a sheet of metal — brass, silver, copper, — that covers the icons’ less important areas. This cover may have been worked by talented Russian metalworkers, or it might have been stamped with the appropriate design.

Oklads are another embellishment. These are the halos that adorn some icons and may have been used as decorations on other areas of the piece. Pearls and stones — both precious and imitation — also were sometimes used.

Although some people express surprise concerning the amount of interest in Russian icons, it is no shock to me. Americans are fascinated by Russia, especially the Russia of Catherine the Great and of Nicholas and Alexandra. As John Webster Keefe of the New Orleans Museum of Art said, “The iconographic art of pre-Revolutionary Russia reflects a 'vanished Russia,' the opulence of which will never be seen again.” The Russia of onion domes and icons was part of a fairy-tale beauty that is no more. We are indeed fortunate to have these holy images by which to remember her.

Originally published in Art & Antiques, May 1999.