Saint Procopius of Scythopolis 1275

Editor: So, this is Saint Procopius of Scythopolis, a tempera painting dating back to 1275. I’m struck by his piercing gaze and the contrast between his gentle face and the detailed, almost rigid, armor. What leaps out at you when you look at this piece? Curator: What leaps, indeed, is that shimmering golden halo surrounding the saint, almost daring us to deny his divine connection. But look closer – notice the angels flanking him, crowning him with celestial approval. It is quite fascinating! They are so small yet so mighty in their purpose, don't you think? Tell me, how does the flatness of the image strike you, compared to modern portraiture? Editor: It makes him feel… distant, but also very present, like a symbol rather than a person, and maybe that was the point? Does the lack of perspective make it more powerful in some way? Curator: Precisely! Perspective, depth - these are worldly concerns. Byzantine art, in its divine wisdom, sought to transcend the earthly realm. It aimed to capture not just likeness, but essence. Can you imagine the artist, a humble monk perhaps, painstakingly layering those pigments, each stroke a prayer? It is all rather captivating, if you ask me! Editor: A prayer in paint. I never thought of it that way. The fact that this has survived nearly a thousand years is also really humbling. I wonder about all the eyes that have looked upon it. Curator: Absolutely, each gaze adding another layer to its story, each soul seeking solace or inspiration. We’re just the latest chapter in this ongoing dialogue between art and humanity, are we not?