This is the first extended commentary-cum-reportage I have come across from an artist who was present at the November 21 event with the Holy Father. A few reaction snippets have come out in the Italian media but mostly standard expressions of approval, and none from anyone bound to be familiar to anyone who does not live in Italy.
The writer of this article is a name that I am unfamiliar with, but his biography in Italian Novelists since World War II
www.ferdinandocamon.it/lavitaeng.htm
is impressive, which does not necessarily mean that his impressions of the event were uniformly felicitous! Born in 1935, he is a novelist, poet, literary critic, and essayist who also contributes to newspapers and magazines.
We artists before the Pope
by FERDINANDO CAMON
Translated from
11/22/09
There must have been at least 250 of us, certainly more, in the Sistine Chapel, guests of the Pope. Writers, directors, painters, sculptors...artists from around the world.
Everyone, Catholic or not, must have waited a lifetime to meet the Pope. And now, here we were. Not at our request, but at his.
A courteous e-mail came, informing us that "it is the desire of the Holy Father to meet you" to speak about our work, of how much of art today seems closed in on itself and has no concern for the ethical purpose that mankind needs art.
I read the e-mail, and it seemed to me euphemistic, that in fact, things are worse. And that it is not so much distinguishing between self-referential art and 'moral' art, as that too much art today, especially in the world of spectacle, films, above all, are aimed at profit: making a film is a business. And so the artist does business - not just in film but in TV, in books, in the theater - if he plays to public instincts, gratifies them, and often, worsens them.
Was this what Benedict XVI wished to speak to us about? Would he speak to us of mankind's need for an art that makes man better, an art in which beauty leads man to transcendence? What a great theme!
I do not agree with the invited artists who refused to come. (For instance) Yehoshua, Oz and Grossman
[apparently, three prominent Israeli writers - I have to Google them later] said they approved fully of the meeting, but since they did not show up, I have some reservations.
Each of us was given a 'pass' hanging by a lanyard on our chest, with our full name. The back side of the pass had a number indicating our seating position in the Chapel. There was great curiosity and even some malice over the numbers. That they could not have been assigned casually. That they must correspond to some hierarchy. That we had been weighed and evaluated as to who deserved to be in the front row, and so on.
What's worse is that a third of the attendance ended up behind the chapel's
transenna [the open grillwork that separates the actual liturgical space from the 'vestibule' of the Chapel], from where one cannot even see the Pope.
[Obviously, because of the physical layout of the Chapel. They could not very well take out the grill just for this occasion.]
Viviana Lamarque came to me, complaining. And we all asked ourselves: On what scoring were numbers and seating arrangment based? Artistry? Catholicity? Nanni Moretti was three rows in front of me, like Carlo Lizzani. Andrea Bocelli was up front. I had number 123, Pamela Villoresi had 125. Tornatore and the Taviani brothers
[all film directors] were among those in the front rows.
Fron left: writer Camon; film directors Liliana Cavani, Giuseppe Trovatore, and the Taviani brothers, arriving for the event. Below, from left: tenor Andrea Boccelli and family; American sculptor John David Mooney; Iraqi architect Zaha Hadid; and actor Franco Nero.
Someone joked it must be in the order of our eternal salvation - who are most easily saved and who would have to work more. But shortly afterwards, we realized the truth of the Gospel words "Blessed are those who come last".
At exactly 11 a.m., all the lights went on, the place became doubly brilliant, and we all looked towards the door. The Pope walked forward down the aisle, smiling kindly, looking right and left, impartially.
Bu suddenly, he does something unexplainable. Two rows ahead of me, right by the aisle, is Lino Banfi with his full-moon face. The Pope moves right towards him and holds out his hand. Banfi bows lithely and kisses the hand.
At that point, I think to myself: the scoring had to do with 'mediaticity'.
[Camon should know that the Pope's gesture was one of familiarity. Those of us who follow the Pope know that Banfi, a popular TV and movie character actor, was one of the persons who gave public testimony at the world Encounter for Families in Valencia in 2006, introducing Benedict XVI to the crowd as 'the grandfather of the world'.]
The Pope mounts some steps to his seat just in front of Michelangelo's
Last Judgment. A hymn rises on our right from a children's choir, then Archbishop Ravasi greets the Pope, who then addresses us.
And this is where the Biblical observation came in. Those of us seated in front could not hear anything. Afterwards, I had to ask for the written text.
The Pope has a Manzonian vision of art. The artist has power, but the artist whose art is also ethical has twice the power. He encourages towards such a redoubled power.
The artist works on mystery, he said, but mystery is the realm of the divine - in which the artistic and the divine meet.
The Pope's system revolves around the idea that the artist cannot separate himself from a scale of values, that he must ultimately touch it, and that the value of moral good will prevail.
The relationship between art and transcendence, art and mystery, is close. Faith and art both dig into mystery, and are therefore sisters. Beauty saves from despair. Beauty which takes on the faces of obscenity, transgression and provocation are 'hypocritical'. that true art, "even when it scrutinizes the most disturbing aspects of evil, gives voice to the universal expectation of redemption".
Would there be, in this, the possibility of rehabilitating writers who have previously been called immoral. like Alberto Moravia and Pier Paolo Pasolini? The suggestion that one can be oriented towards hope by describing desperation?
And that therefore, the suffering of the artist - since each work requires suffering (sometimes even to death) - can become redemption. That it is possible an artist can be saved because he is an artist. It has been written, for instance, in
La Civilta Cattolica that Moravia and Pasolini are certainly in Paradise.
I thought the Pope came close to such concepts, that they can be inferred from his discourse.
He ends tenderly, and he puts down his text. From us, who remained seated, a long applause. He rose to thank us.
Later, Archbishop Ravasi greets each of us before we leave, to hand out a commemorative medallion coined for the occasion. On the back side is Christ looming over St. Paul, from Michelangelo's painting in the Pauline Chapel. A traumatic conversion.
[A trauma that was certainly not negative, in this case!]
I would have preferred something different. Seeing that the Pope's entire discourse was Manzonian, the medallion could have borne Manzoni's advice: "Never offer a word that applauds vice or derides virtue". Which really means - Do not place your gifts in the service of money. Or of partisan interests.
The preceding encounter of artists with a Pope took place 45 years ago. Too long ago.
I was thinking (and I discussed this with others present) - It would be good if the artists of the world could meet in the Sistine Chapel every 10 years, but for two days - the first, to listen to the Pope, and the second, to talk among themselves.
And it would be better if it was limited to Christian artists - someone modified that to 'artists from the Christian world' - with a minimum agenda of premises and common problems.
It would cost the Vatican nothing. We would pay for our fare and lodging (as we did this time). Martini&Rossi would provide the refreshments.
I hear the objection right away: What? A Catholic lay synod of artists?
Wny not?
While Camon sounds inappropriately flippant in part - a flippancy that betrays the narcissism that generally marks artists - he obviously appreciates the Pope's message and raises interesting inferences. And perhaps he intended the flippancy to 'balance out' his sympathy with the Pope's position, so that he is not dismissed outright by Stampa readers as flakking for the Vatican. [And BTW, didn't anyone test the sound system earlier to make sure the sound could be properly heard in the entire chapel?]
It would be nice to know the list of 500 artists drawn up by Mons. Ravasi to invite, and what had been his criteria of inclusion and exclusion. The invitees should know that the list was Mons. Ravasi's, not that of the Pope, who would trust the judgment of his 'Minister of Culture' in this matter.
Certainly, it was disappointing that only half of those invited considered it worth their while to come, and that of these, only about 40 were from countries other than Italy, which appears to have a preponderance of representatives from the performing arts and the entertainment world.
Also, I think it was not right for Ravasi's office to 'prioritize' or 'rank' the guests in any way. If any distinctions had to be made, then perhaps a section with all the non-Italian invitees (they had to know this by the RSVPs), and special attention to any handicapped guests. Otherwise, seating should have been 'first come, first served'.
It would be good if Ravasi's Council, in their follow-up, besides e-mailing thank-you notes to those who care, also e-mailed a copy of the Pope's text to those who declined.
Additionally, there are reports that some Catholic artists who were invited - like the German writer Martin Mosebach, a champion of traditional Catholic culture and liturgy - chose not to attend because they felt the occasion was too broadly secular and would not provide the occasion to make a particular appeal to Catholic artists to engage themselves in producing 'authentically Catholic sacred art'. I disagree with those who decided to boycott the meeting for this reason. The appeal for authentic Catholic sacred art requires a different forum altogether, and maybe they should work on Mons. Ravasi to arrange for a meeting for this purpose.
It also seems that among the absentees - because not invited - were Prof. Bartolucci and Prof. Miserach-Grau, the two men most involved today in the defense and promotion of traditional sacred music. If that is so, it's very troubling as it would indicate that Mons. Ravasi perhaps did not consult enough people about his list.
P.S.
Camon's article elicited two rejoinders from his peers who were also at the event, as well as Camon's response to their rejoinders.
The first is in the form of a letter to the editor of La Stampa from an Italian writer of Jewish descent: Alain Elkann has co-authored books with persons as diverse as the former Chief Rabbi of Rome Elio Toaff (who hosted John Paul II at the Rome Synagogue), Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini and King Abdullah II of Jordan.
Beauty has no labels nor religion
Letter to the Editor
by ALAIN ELKANN
Translated from
11/24/09
I read the article by Ferdinando Camon published in
La Stampa on Sunday, Nov. 22.
I wish to tell the author that I found in his account of the ceremony some jesting and ironical poetic license that made the solemn day seem like a fashion show.
I would never allow myself to write such things given the solemnity and symbolism of such a day, and given the personalities present and the sacredness of the site chosen by Benedict XVI: the Sistine Chapel.
I would have written that I thank Mons. Ravasi, President of the Pontifical Council for Culture and the Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Assets of the Church, for having organized such a significant event.
Indeed, I wish to thank the Holy Father for having chosen such an important site, a unique icon for conjoining beauty - which was the focus of the Pope's discourse - with religion, spirituality, talent and the Church, since in the very same Sistine Chapel, as Benedict XVI recalled weith emotion, papal Concalves are held and he himself was elected to the Chair of Peter.
I must say that it seemed strange to see who came to the Chapel that day - famous architects, poets, thinkers, singers, directors, novelists, amazed to find together laymen who are Christians, Buddhists, Jews, Muslims, believers and nonbelievers, all together to await the Pope.
All curious to know or try to understand what criteria the Vatican used to have chosen each of them to represent the world of culture and art. The director Maselli, speaking about the Pope and why he accepted the invitation, said: "After all, it isn't every day one gets invited by a Chief of State".
[And isn't this a flippant comment to cite?]
At a certain point, we were all requested, in Italian and in English, to turn off our cell phones, to observe some silence, because the Pope was about to arrive.
That respectful silence while waiting was beautiful because it placed everyone on a level of parity and respect towards the Pope and his much-awaited address.
And when he arrived, he was greeted with applause. After he finished speaking, long applause, which confirmed the wide consensus about his words, but even more for his initiative.
In the last part of Camon's article, I read, with surprise, to say the least, certain statements attributed to some people I know well and whom I know think otherwise - namely, my friend Lorenzo Mondo, biographer of Cesare Pavese, and my friend Ernesto Ferrero, biographer of Primo Levi.
Camon wrote: "It would be good if the artists of the world could meet in the Sistine Chapel every 10 years, but for two days - the first, to listen to the Pope, and the second, to talk among themselves. And it would be better if it was limited to Christian artists".
I don't believe that persons like Zaha Hadid, Arnoldo Foà, Daniel Libeskind (architect of the Holocaust Museum in Berlin)or others were invited at random, and If I remember well, the Pope addressed us as "dear and illustrious artists, from different countries, cultures and religions, some of you perhaps remote from the practice of religion, but interested nevertheless in maintaining communication with the Catholic Church..."
I believe I was invited to that event as an Italian writer. I am Jewish and have always worked for inter-religious dialog. And therefore when I read "only Christian artists' I get an unpleasant shiver, and I realize that Mr. Camon and myself have interpreted quite diversely a great day to which I am grateful and proud to have been invited with so many men and women of talent, who shared this event in common, wherever we were seated, above all equally - in that Sistine Chapel which Michelangelo and other great masters like Perugino, Ghirlandaio and Botticelli had elevated into a masterwork of art and the common patrimony of mankind above and beyond race or religion.
On Saturday, in the Sistine Chapel and later along the corridors and within the halls of the Vatican Museums, I breathed in the air of satisfaction and consensus. The Church had decided solemnly to say to us: We need you - to gratify art and artists. A message that came from the Pope, the cardinals and bishops, and even the Swiss Guard who clicked their heels and saluted smartly - to the poet Conte, the poet Rondoni, the architect Botta, the writer La Capria, all the rest.
On that Saturday, November 21, at the Vatican, art found its place and the respect it merits yet again. We understood that three great Popes - Paul VI, John Paul II and Benedict XVI - were linked together by the subtle sense that in the spiritual history of the Church, artists had a central role. And that moreover, the inspiration for art and faith are indeed very very close to each other.
But the true lesson that I came away with from the Sistine Chapel is that beauty has no labels. It is simply beautiful.
Here is the third first-person article about the Sistine Chapel event:
A caress for culture
from the Pontiff
by LORENZO MONDO
Translated from
11/24/09
The evening before our audience with the Pope in the Sistine Chapel, Ferdinando Camon, who was in the mood for theological discussion, enticed me and a group of friends to talk about the crisis of Christianity and of the difficulties that the Church has in making itself understood by the faithful themselves, whether it was about the Trinity or the last judgment.
And from there came the suggestion of a propitious meeting with the Pope to be followed by a conference of artists from Christian areas of the world in order to discuss certain problems.
It was a chat among friends, in the Vatican Museums, over cakes and wine. Too sketchy to assume, as Camon does in his article, that I or my friends had any aversion to the invitation made by Benedict XVI (through Mons. Ravasi) to agnostics and members of other religious faiths. One cannot mix up times, contexts and diverse talks.
As far as I am concerned, I am profoundly grateful for having been welcomed alongside so many talented persons in the Sistine Chapel which, as Alain Elkann remarks, is "the common patrimony of mankind above and beyond race and religion".
And I appreciated the Pope's discourse, limpid and elevated, something that places many of his critics in an embarrassing position.
[It seems to me the writer has no prior acquaintance with Benedict XVI's thinking and cultural breadth - certainly not with his lecture at the College des Bernardins, nor even his catechesis last Wednesday on the medieval cathedrals. And I suspect this is true of the overwhelming majority of those invited to the Sistine Chapel.]
Benedict XVI expressed, in tones of affectionate courtesy, the friendship of the Church - evidence by a bimillenial history and symbolized by that powerful Michelangelo
Last Judgment - for those who work to create beauty and plumb its depths.
This, beyond any superficial appeasement or esthetic nuances, should be understood in its vertical projection, as an open window towards the absolute, on the mystery of man, on his noble origin.
And the analogy that he drew, citing Simone Weil, Dostoyevsky, Hermann Hesse, and Von Balthasar, between artistic and religious inspiration, was very suggestive: "An essential function of genuine beauty, as emphasized by Plato, is that it gives man a healthy 'shock', it draws him out of himself, wrenches him away from resignation and from being content with the humdrum - it even makes him suffer, piercing him like a dart, but in so doing, it 'reawakens' him..."
As the director Giuseppe Tornatore commented with epigrammatic efficiency, one felt, in those words, addressed inclusively to all who were present, "a caress for culture from the Pope".
[Which confirms what I thought - that these people speak as though this was the first time Benedict XVI has ever spoken about culture and art, beauty and faith, in this manner! Joseph Ratzinger/Benedict XVI, who knows his Plato, constantly affirms the classic ideal of 'the true, the good and the beautiful' as the definition of God himself. A caress for culture? This Pope does it all the time!]
Finally, Camon's response to Elkann:
'I was not happy about those
who refused the invitation'
by FERDINANDO CAMON
Translated from
11/24/09
On Sunday, in this newspaper, I recounted the Pope's meeting with artists.
Monday, the newspaper published a letter comment by Alain Elkann. which was substantially an article in itself. Elkann reproaches me for having made light of the encounter.
But I had written that all of us who were there, Catholic or not, had waited all our lives for such a meeting. It would have been hard for me to say we had waited it even before we were born!
Elkann dwells on the amount of art of the highest quality that surrounded the event. True, it was a grand setting. But if the program had been about music or painting, few of us would have come. We came to hear the Pope.
After 45 years, a Pope would speak of art to artists - that was the event. For me as for everyone.
Even all the articles have written only about the speech. An elevated and complex speech, but also a risky one. Not all of it left me tranquil.
About Michelangelo's
Last Judgment, I ask Elkann to understand: No Catholic artist can contemplate it with untrammelled joy, as Elkann can, for a serious reason, even with respect to the theme of the Pope's discourse: the Church erred intially about that work by Michelangelo.
When Michelangelo opened the doors and invited the Pope and cardinals to see his finished work, they expressed consternation. A cardinal murmured, "What a useless display of anatomical knowledge!", and another, "This is no papal hall - it's a thermal chamber!"
[I think Camon is making too much of that initial 'consternation'. The Pope did not order the fresco scraped away and obliterated, nor modified to show less 'anatomical knowledge'. Indeed, the Church has conserved it for five centuries now. But first impressions of art that eventually becomes recognized as 'great' are hardly ever positive, and Camon should know that.]
Every time I see the Sistine Chapel, these views come to mind, and they are painful and irrepressible. The relationship of the Chirch with artists, up to Fellini, Pasolini, Testori and Tondelli has been problematic.
[I do not know who Testori and Tondelli are, but it is one thing to express beauty [even the beauty of suffering, as participation in Christ's sacrifice] through art; another thing altogether to mock the Church and its practices openly - there is never any beauty in mockery and scorn.]
About the Pope's speech and on problems of morality and art, I would have loved to stay one day more in order to discuss these among us, the guests.
If the Pope, who chose to say 'Arrivederci' [literal meaning, "Till we meet again"], will repeat such a meeting, I would hope that a post-speech discussion can take place.
And what is the extent of 'Christian areas', anyway? Anywhere the words of the Pope are heeded. The Pope said so himself. They include anyone who, when the Pope calls and invites them to him, recognize his authority and come. Elkann has been among those in the forefront.
But Israel's leading writers - Yehoshua, Oz and Grossman - refused en bloc. Did they think that the topic, or the speaker, did not merit listening to? If so, they have every right. But Elkann glosses over the fact that they refused the invitation, as if it didn't matter. It disappointed me, and I did not like it.
But let us not make this a religious dispute. The Pope said to us 'Arrivederci'. We should simply answer, 'Soon!'