And we bring the light 1922

Editor: Here we have Nicholas Roerich’s "And we bring the light", painted in 1922 with oil on canvas. There’s something very still and solemn about it, the way the monks are painted. How do you read the production and the imagery here? Curator: The architecture dominates, doesn't it? Note the emphasis on the making of the church – the layered paint creating texture, reflecting the construction process, perhaps even highlighting the labour embedded in the stones themselves. What does that suggest about its role within society at the time? Editor: Well, it was 1922 in Russia, during massive social upheaval. Was Roerich commenting on the church's enduring material presence amid the revolution? Curator: Precisely. He’s not just presenting a pretty picture; it’s an examination of the Church’s very physicality, its wealth rendered in oil, its foundations, and who constructed it. Consider the symbolic 'light' in relation to real materials – gold leaf in icons, candlelight… It is not ethereal but crafted, obtained, possessed. The light isn't some divine gift, it’s a produced commodity, reflecting power dynamics. Editor: So the symbol interacts with the literal process. The texture seems to show time but also maybe human intervention itself. Curator: Exactly. Roerich uses the materiality to reveal social context, transforming what could have been simply spiritual into a critique of labor and materiality. He emphasizes production in times of societal unrest. Editor: I didn't realize how much the choice of materials could shape the meaning like that. It makes me think about other seemingly spiritual art, differently, to consider them as an examination of power, commodity and labor. Curator: Indeed. Recognizing the real conditions of artistic production helps unlock new readings, to see beyond symbolism alone, or at least look deeper *into* symbolism and observe how its materials are reflective of society.