Byzantium art comes to life at Art Institute

Shimmering mosaics. Liturgical vestments. Classical sculpture. Elaborate jewelry. Comprising 63 works, “Heaven and Earth: Art of Byzantium From Greek Collections” is a modestly sized exhibition at the Art Institute of Chicago that in its considerable range captures the opulence and splendor of the Byzantine Empire, as well as the spiritual aura that permeated its ever-changing visual culture. It’s an impressive feat, especially considering “Heaven and Earth” is housed inside the narrow Mary and Michael Jaharis Galleries.

So another display of old icons, bowls and books, nonhistory buffs may wonder, passing by the exhibition on their way to the Modern Wing.

To which I would reply: “Unthink Byzantium.”

Rather than a run-of-the-mill assemblage of rare artifacts, this survey of Byzantine work, much of which has never been displayed outside Greece, illuminates a curiously overlooked part of history.

In A.D. 330, with the Western Roman Empire in decline, emperor Constantine established a cosmopolitan new capital, Constantinople, in ancient Byzantium (present-day Istanbul). The name “Byzantium” was later used to describe the vast, predominantly Greek-speaking Eastern Roman Empire as a whole, which for much of its 1,000-plus-year existence boasted considerable economic power, military might and a rich visual culture. Byzantine Greece was particularly significant in the realms of art, theology and scholarship. Yet Americans are largely unfamiliar with the enormity of its influence.

“In fact, most people don’t know what ‘Byzantine’ means, beyond seeing it used in the ‘Financial Times.'” says Terah Walkup, research associate in the AIC’s Department of Ancient and Byzantine Art. The modern usage, established in the 19th century and used pejoratively, refers to devious, secretive or excessively complex systems. Many scholars argue, however, that the Byzantine Empire is only complicated in the context of medieval Europe.

Western historians tend to concentrate on the decline and fall of the Western Roman Empire rather than the flowering and evolution of its eastern half, which is one of the reasons Karen Manchester, AIC chair and curator of ancient art, wanted to bring “Heaven and Earth” to the museum. Originally conceived as a major loan exhibition of some 170 objects from various collections, the show was organized by the Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports in Athens, Greece, in collaboration with the Benaki Museum, and first appeared at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C., and the Getty Villa in Pacific Palisades, Calif. Manchester proposed showing a condensed version of the exhibition — one that would fit inside the deep but not wide Jaharis galleries — and the organizers obliged. “I chose objects that have great impact, as well as great beauty,” she says.

That’s not to say the Byzantium you meet here is devoid of complexity. A portion of the works reveal the gradual, often convoluted transition from polytheistic traditions to Christianity, including the introduction of antipagan legislation and defacement of many artworks of classical antiquity. See: “Head of Aphrodite,” a first-century sculpture displayed at the entrance to “Heaven and Earth.” The Greek goddess of love and beauty, masterfully rendered in marble, has a cross crudely chiseled into her forehead and eyes, and rough markings on her mouth.

“On the one hand, it’s such a lovely face,” says Elena Boeck, associate professor in DePaul’s Department of History of Art and Architecture, as well as a consulting curator for “Heaven and Earth.” “But by blinding her and silencing her, this goddess of carnal love, early Christians attempted to remove her power, her personality and reclassify her (in Christian terms).”

Behind Aphrodite, on a slightly higher plinth, a processional cross is displayed, and farther back, a series of two-sided painted icons which, as Boeck explains, are seen as sacred prototypes in the Orthodox church. “Icons, unlike idols, have their own agency,” Boeck says. “They’re interactive images, in which the divine is present.” The “procession” of pieces here echoes the rise of Byzantine Christianity. Manchester and her staff were mindful of respecting the work’s religious intent, positioning some of the devotional icons at the center of the gallery, as opposed to mounted on the wall.

“We made a commitment to our colleagues in Greece that we would try to show both sides,” she says. “These are still living objects in the Orthodox faith.”

Evidence of Byzantine spiritual life dominates “Heaven and Earth.” In fact, its soft “treasury” lighting and piped-in Byzantine chants by Cappella Romana affect the mysterious, multisensory experience of attending an Orthodox church, sans incense. (“Fire hazard,” Manchester explains.)

The curator admits that both arranging the work in limited space and transporting so many of Greece’s major artistic holdings to Chicago via LA was a challenge. But she’s pleased with the results. In addition to pictorial representations of faith, the exhibition affords glimpses of Byzantine intellectual life via richly illustrated texts; everyday pleasures, as depicted by perfume flasks, tableware and jewelry; and the intersecting influence of East and West in the empire’s last days, evident in icons that meld Catholicism and Orthodoxy.

Following a visit to “Heaven and Earth,” I was still thinking of Byzantine icons as living things when I stopped by an exhibition in the Modern Wing, “Sarah Charlesworth: Stills.” A collection of cropped and enlarged photographs of people jumping or falling from buildings — committing suicide or escaping catastrophe, the viewer isn’t sure which — it, too, features “active” subjects but in a starkly different context. Study the images for a moment, and they transform from anonymous figures suspended in space to real people plunging toward absolute stillness. Unlike Byzantine art reaching toward the heavens, Charlesworth’s groundbreaking conceptual images, circa 1980, fall forever to Earth. Both arresting and mysterious in their own ways, these two seemingly unrelated exhibitions are especially powerful when viewed back to back.

“Heaven and Earth: Art of Byzantium from Greek Collections,” through Feb. 15. Art Institute of Chicago, Gallery 154, 111 S. Michigan Ave. $12-$23; 312-443-3600 or artic.edu.

lpearson@tribune.com

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