Bill Viola

CONTENTS First published on the occasion of the exhibition ‘Bill Viola | Michelangelo: Life, Death, Rebirth’

Artistic director Tim Marlow

Royal Academy of Arts, London 26 January – 31 March 2019

Exhibition curators Martin Clayton, Royal Collection Trust Kira Perov, Bill Viola Studio Andrea Tarsia, Royal Academy of Arts with Anna Testar, Royal Academy of Arts

Exhibition organised by the Royal Academy of Arts, London, in partnership with Royal Collection Trust and with the collaboration of Bill Viola Studio

Organised in collaboration with Bill Viola Studio Kira Perov with Bobby Jablonski Gene Zazzaro

Supported by

Exhibition organisation Rebecca England Jessica Reid Photographic and copyright coordination Giulia Ariete

With grateful thanks to John Studzinski cbe

Supported by

Supported by Dunard Fund

Lenders to the exhibition Her Majesty The Queen Bill Viola Studio, Long Beach, California British Museum, London Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh Tate, London This exhibition has been made possible as a result of the Government Indemnity Scheme. The Royal Academy of Arts would like to thank HM Government for providing indemnity and the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport and Arts Council England for arranging this indemnity.

Exhibition catalogue Royal Academy Publications Florence Dassonville, Production Coordinator Rosie Hore, Project Editor Carola Krueger, Production Manager Peter Sawbridge, Editorial Director Nick Tite, Publisher Design: Patrick Morrissey, Unlimited Picture research: Sara Ayad Indexing: Hilary Bird Colour origination: DawkinsColour Printed in Italy by Graphicom Photographic acknowledgements All works of art are reproduced by kind permission of the owners. Every attempt has been made to trace the photographers of works reproduced. Specific acknowledgements are as follows: All works and notebook entries by Bill Viola courtesy Bill Viola Studio; front cover, pp. 2, 9, 12–13, 19, 25, 36, 54, 55, 56, 57, 60–61, 68, 69, 70–71, 78–79, 80, 81, 84, 85, 106–07, 109, 110, 111, 115, 116 (above and below), 117 (above and below), 124, 125 (left and right), 133, 134, 135, 136, 138 (left and right), 139 (left and right): photo Kira Perov; back cover, pp. 10, 26, 30, 62, 65, 86–87, 89, 90, 92–93, 94, 96–97, 98, 100–01, 102–03, 121, 122, 128–29, 131: Royal Collection Trust / © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019; pp. 6, 66, 127: © The Trustees of the British Museum; pp. 14, 21, 82–83, 112–13: photo Peter Mallet, courtesy Blain|Southern, London; p. 20: photo Thierry Bal, courtesy Blain|Southern, London; pp. 22, 118–19: photo Mike Bruce, courtesy Anthony d’Offay, London; p. 23: photo Charles Duprat; p. 29: © Bridgeman Images / Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery; p. 32: © akg-images / Erich Lessing; p. 33: © Photo Scala 2019 / Museo d’Arte Antica, Castello Sforzesco, Milan; p. 35: © Photo Scala 2019 / Santo Spirito, Florence; pp. 49, 50, 51: © Royal Academy of Arts, London, photo Prudence Cuming Associates; p. 53: photo Edward Woodman; pp. 58–59: photo Museé des Beaux-Arts de Nantes; pp. 72–73: photo Gary McKinnis; p. 77: photo Richard Stoner, courtesy Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh; p. 105: photo Roman Mensing; p. 140: courtesy Blain|Southern, © private collection

Copyright © 2019 Royal Academy of Arts, London All works and texts by Bill Viola copyright © Bill Viola, 2019 All photographs by Kira Perov © Bill Viola Studio, 2019 Interview pages 141–52 © 2002 The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York

7 PRESIDENT’S FOREWORD 8 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 11 CURATOR’S FOREWORD

Any copy of this book issued by the publisher is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including these words being imposed on a subsequent purchaser.

15 BILL VIOLA, AND MICHELANGELO

MARTIN CLAYTON

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any other information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-912520-21-3 (softback) ISBN 978-1-910350-99-7 (hardback) Distributed outside the United States and Canada by ACC Art Books Ltd, Sandy Lane, Old Martlesham, Woodbridge, Suffolk IP12 4SD Distributed in the United States and Canada by ARTBOOK | D.A.P., 155 Sixth Avenue, New York NY 10013 Editors’ notes All dimensions are given in centimetres, height before width (before depth).

References on pages 47–139 to the room dimensions of works by Bill Viola describe how the works were originally viewed and may differ from the display at the Royal Academy of Arts.

27 THE SPIRITUAL IN

MICHELANGELO’S DRAWINGS

MARTIN CLAYTON 37 A CREATIVE JOURNEY

KIRA PEROV 47 CATALOGUE

MARTIN CLAYTON

BILL VIOLA

Illustrations Front cover: Bill Viola, The Dreamers, 2013 (still from cat. 18). Performer: Sharon Ferguson

141 A CONVERSATION WITH BILL VIOLA

JOHN G. HANHARDT

Page 2: still from cat. 22 Page 6: detail of cat. 6 Page 9: still from cat. 26 Page 10: detail of cat. 12 Pages 12–13: installation shot of cat. 9 Page 140: Bill Viola, Bodies of Light, 10 June 2006. Pencil, pen and ink on paper, 35 x 28 cm. Private collection

153 ENDNOTES 154 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 156 INDEX

Back cover: Michelangelo Buonarroti, The Risen Christ, c. 1532–33 (detail of cat. 25)

CONTENTS First published on the occasion of the exhibition ‘Bill Viola | Michelangelo: Life, Death, Rebirth’

Artistic director Tim Marlow

Royal Academy of Arts, London 26 January – 31 March 2019

Exhibition curators Martin Clayton, Royal Collection Trust Kira Perov, Bill Viola Studio Andrea Tarsia, Royal Academy of Arts with Anna Testar, Royal Academy of Arts

Exhibition organised by the Royal Academy of Arts, London, in partnership with Royal Collection Trust and with the collaboration of Bill Viola Studio

Organised in collaboration with Bill Viola Studio Kira Perov with Bobby Jablonski Gene Zazzaro

Supported by

Exhibition organisation Rebecca England Jessica Reid Photographic and copyright coordination Giulia Ariete

With grateful thanks to John Studzinski cbe

Supported by

Supported by Dunard Fund

Lenders to the exhibition Her Majesty The Queen Bill Viola Studio, Long Beach, California British Museum, London Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh Tate, London This exhibition has been made possible as a result of the Government Indemnity Scheme. The Royal Academy of Arts would like to thank HM Government for providing indemnity and the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport and Arts Council England for arranging this indemnity.

Exhibition catalogue Royal Academy Publications Florence Dassonville, Production Coordinator Rosie Hore, Project Editor Carola Krueger, Production Manager Peter Sawbridge, Editorial Director Nick Tite, Publisher Design: Patrick Morrissey, Unlimited Picture research: Sara Ayad Indexing: Hilary Bird Colour origination: DawkinsColour Printed in Italy by Graphicom Photographic acknowledgements All works of art are reproduced by kind permission of the owners. Every attempt has been made to trace the photographers of works reproduced. Specific acknowledgements are as follows: All works and notebook entries by Bill Viola courtesy Bill Viola Studio; front cover, pp. 2, 9, 12–13, 19, 25, 36, 54, 55, 56, 57, 60–61, 68, 69, 70–71, 78–79, 80, 81, 84, 85, 106–07, 109, 110, 111, 115, 116 (above and below), 117 (above and below), 124, 125 (left and right), 133, 134, 135, 136, 138 (left and right), 139 (left and right): photo Kira Perov; back cover, pp. 10, 26, 30, 62, 65, 86–87, 89, 90, 92–93, 94, 96–97, 98, 100–01, 102–03, 121, 122, 128–29, 131: Royal Collection Trust / © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2019; pp. 6, 66, 127: © The Trustees of the British Museum; pp. 14, 21, 82–83, 112–13: photo Peter Mallet, courtesy Blain|Southern, London; p. 20: photo Thierry Bal, courtesy Blain|Southern, London; pp. 22, 118–19: photo Mike Bruce, courtesy Anthony d’Offay, London; p. 23: photo Charles Duprat; p. 29: © Bridgeman Images / Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery; p. 32: © akg-images / Erich Lessing; p. 33: © Photo Scala 2019 / Museo d’Arte Antica, Castello Sforzesco, Milan; p. 35: © Photo Scala 2019 / Santo Spirito, Florence; pp. 49, 50, 51: © Royal Academy of Arts, London, photo Prudence Cuming Associates; p. 53: photo Edward Woodman; pp. 58–59: photo Museé des Beaux-Arts de Nantes; pp. 72–73: photo Gary McKinnis; p. 77: photo Richard Stoner, courtesy Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh; p. 105: photo Roman Mensing; p. 140: courtesy Blain|Southern, © private collection

Copyright © 2019 Royal Academy of Arts, London All works and texts by Bill Viola copyright © Bill Viola, 2019 All photographs by Kira Perov © Bill Viola Studio, 2019 Interview pages 141–52 © 2002 The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York

7 PRESIDENT’S FOREWORD 8 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 11 CURATOR’S FOREWORD

Any copy of this book issued by the publisher is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including these words being imposed on a subsequent purchaser.

15 BILL VIOLA, AND MICHELANGELO

MARTIN CLAYTON

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any other information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-912520-21-3 (softback) ISBN 978-1-910350-99-7 (hardback) Distributed outside the United States and Canada by ACC Art Books Ltd, Sandy Lane, Old Martlesham, Woodbridge, Suffolk IP12 4SD Distributed in the United States and Canada by ARTBOOK | D.A.P., 155 Sixth Avenue, New York NY 10013 Editors’ notes All dimensions are given in centimetres, height before width (before depth).

References on pages 47–139 to the room dimensions of works by Bill Viola describe how the works were originally viewed and may differ from the display at the Royal Academy of Arts.

27 THE SPIRITUAL IN

MICHELANGELO’S DRAWINGS

MARTIN CLAYTON 37 A CREATIVE JOURNEY

KIRA PEROV 47 CATALOGUE

MARTIN CLAYTON

BILL VIOLA

Illustrations Front cover: Bill Viola, The Dreamers, 2013 (still from cat. 18). Performer: Sharon Ferguson

141 A CONVERSATION WITH BILL VIOLA

JOHN G. HANHARDT

Page 2: still from cat. 22 Page 6: detail of cat. 6 Page 9: still from cat. 26 Page 10: detail of cat. 12 Pages 12–13: installation shot of cat. 9 Page 140: Bill Viola, Bodies of Light, 10 June 2006. Pencil, pen and ink on paper, 35 x 28 cm. Private collection

153 ENDNOTES 154 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 156 INDEX

Back cover: Michelangelo Buonarroti, The Risen Christ, c. 1532–33 (detail of cat. 25)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The Royal Academy of Arts would like to thank the following individuals for their invaluable assistance during the making of this exhibition and its catalogue: Harry Blain, Stephanie Camu, Hugo Chapman, Polly Chiapetta, Nancy Cooper, Marie Corboy, Simeon Corless, Ana Maria Ferreira, Alisha Ferrin, Ann Gallagher, Phelan Heinsohn, Ludger Hennig, Bobby Jablonski, Tom Johnson, Ewa Kazmierczak, Sanne Klinge, Ulrich Leistner, Helen Lyon, Henrietta McBurney, Patrick Morrissey, Edwina Mulvany, Jose Murillo, Anna Nesbit, Orian Neumann, Linda Pacifici, Thomas Piglin, Lauren Porter, Astra Price, Graham Southern, Sarah Vowles and Gene Zazzaro Â

8

We would also like to extend our special thanks to the following organisations: 235 Media, Carmody Groarke, studio HB, KS Objectiv, Lightwaves Ltd and MER Ltd

9

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The Royal Academy of Arts would like to thank the following individuals for their invaluable assistance during the making of this exhibition and its catalogue: Harry Blain, Stephanie Camu, Hugo Chapman, Polly Chiapetta, Nancy Cooper, Marie Corboy, Simeon Corless, Ana Maria Ferreira, Alisha Ferrin, Ann Gallagher, Phelan Heinsohn, Ludger Hennig, Bobby Jablonski, Tom Johnson, Ewa Kazmierczak, Sanne Klinge, Ulrich Leistner, Helen Lyon, Henrietta McBurney, Patrick Morrissey, Edwina Mulvany, Jose Murillo, Anna Nesbit, Orian Neumann, Linda Pacifici, Thomas Piglin, Lauren Porter, Astra Price, Graham Southern, Sarah Vowles and Gene Zazzaro Â

8

We would also like to extend our special thanks to the following organisations: 235 Media, Carmody Groarke, studio HB, KS Objectiv, Lightwaves Ltd and MER Ltd

9

2

Bill Viola The Messenger, 1996 Colour video projection on large vertical screen mounted on wall in darkened space; amplified stereo sound; projected image size 4.3 x 3.0 m; room dimensions 6.1 x 7.9 x 9.1 m Duration: continuously running Performer: Chad Walker Commissioned by Canon Bill Hall on behalf of The Chaplaincy to the Arts and Recreation in North East England. First shown as a site-specific installation in Durham Cathedral in 1996 (Year of the Visual Arts UK). Donated to Tate in 2016

A large image is projected on a screen. The image sequence begins with a small, central, luminous, abstract form shimmering and undulating against a deep blue-black void. Gradually the luminous shape begins to get larger and less distorted, and it soon becomes apparent that we are seeing a human form, illuminated, rising towards us from under the surface of a body of water. The water becomes more still and transparent and the figure more clear on its journey upwards towards us. We identify the figure as a man, pale blue, on his back rising up slowly.

After some time, the figure breaks the surface, an act at once startling, relieving and desperate.

His pale form emerges into the warm hues of bright light, the water glistening on his body. His eyes immediately open and he releases a long-held breath from the depths, shattering the silence of the image as this forceful primal sound of life resonates momentarily in the space. After a few moments, he inhales deeply, and, with his eyes shut and his mouth closed, he sinks into the depths of the blue-black void once more, returning to his origins as a shimmering, moving point of light.

The image sequence continually repeats, with the man perpetually rising and sinking, describing the constant circulation of birth and death, and functioning like a great cycle of respiration in the space.  b v 52

2

Bill Viola The Messenger, 1996 Colour video projection on large vertical screen mounted on wall in darkened space; amplified stereo sound; projected image size 4.3 x 3.0 m; room dimensions 6.1 x 7.9 x 9.1 m Duration: continuously running Performer: Chad Walker Commissioned by Canon Bill Hall on behalf of The Chaplaincy to the Arts and Recreation in North East England. First shown as a site-specific installation in Durham Cathedral in 1996 (Year of the Visual Arts UK). Donated to Tate in 2016

A large image is projected on a screen. The image sequence begins with a small, central, luminous, abstract form shimmering and undulating against a deep blue-black void. Gradually the luminous shape begins to get larger and less distorted, and it soon becomes apparent that we are seeing a human form, illuminated, rising towards us from under the surface of a body of water. The water becomes more still and transparent and the figure more clear on its journey upwards towards us. We identify the figure as a man, pale blue, on his back rising up slowly.

After some time, the figure breaks the surface, an act at once startling, relieving and desperate.

His pale form emerges into the warm hues of bright light, the water glistening on his body. His eyes immediately open and he releases a long-held breath from the depths, shattering the silence of the image as this forceful primal sound of life resonates momentarily in the space. After a few moments, he inhales deeply, and, with his eyes shut and his mouth closed, he sinks into the depths of the blue-black void once more, returning to his origins as a shimmering, moving point of light.

The image sequence continually repeats, with the man perpetually rising and sinking, describing the constant circulation of birth and death, and functioning like a great cycle of respiration in the space.  b v 52

BILL VIOLA, AND MICHELANGELO MARTIN CLAYTON

Fig. 1 Bill Viola, Mary, 2016.

Colour high-definition video triptych; two 50” plasma displays and one 65” plasma display mounted vertically, 122.9 x 69.9 x 7.2 cm.

Permanent installation, St Paul’s Cathedral, London.

On long-term loan from Tate.

Executive producer: Kira Perov

Over a career of forty years at the forefront of video art, Bill Viola has explored with rare intensity the human journey from birth to death: the noise and tumult of existence, our search for transcendence and solace, the passing of the material body, and the possibility of rebirth. These fundamental themes of mortality, intimacy, deep pathos and resurrection are also strongly present in Michelangelo’s work: in his paintings, sculpture and poetry, and especially in his finished drawings, the focus of this exhibition.

The cycle of life is here traced through these two artists, working in radically different media half a millennium apart.

Although the works of both artists express a deep spirituality, especially in the latter halves of their lives, neither merely illustrates an established orthodoxy, nor attempts in his extensive writings to set out a systematic theology or philosophy; instead, they both integrate elements from diverse traditions.

Michelangelo explored profound Christian concepts, often in a mystic form, and fused them with the Neoplatonic philosophy that developed in Florence in the later fifteenth century, which emphasised the immortality of the soul and saw the material world as a corrupt reflection of the divine and perfect realm of God. Although in his last thirty years mystic Christianity dominated his thinking – and the form and content of his art – Michelangelo retained a sympathy with these Neoplatonic concepts to the end.

Viola’s spiritual journey has, in the modern manner, been more wide-ranging, and partly based on his first-hand experience of many different cultures. Born in New York in 1951, he studied art at Syracuse University and travelled to Italy at the age of 23, working in Florence for 18 months as a technical director at the pioneering studio art/tapes/22.

Whereas we tend to regard modern Florence as a vast museum, the city was then at the forefront of 15

BILL VIOLA, AND MICHELANGELO MARTIN CLAYTON

Fig. 1 Bill Viola, Mary, 2016.

Colour high-definition video triptych; two 50” plasma displays and one 65” plasma display mounted vertically, 122.9 x 69.9 x 7.2 cm.

Permanent installation, St Paul’s Cathedral, London.

On long-term loan from Tate.

Executive producer: Kira Perov

Over a career of forty years at the forefront of video art, Bill Viola has explored with rare intensity the human journey from birth to death: the noise and tumult of existence, our search for transcendence and solace, the passing of the material body, and the possibility of rebirth. These fundamental themes of mortality, intimacy, deep pathos and resurrection are also strongly present in Michelangelo’s work: in his paintings, sculpture and poetry, and especially in his finished drawings, the focus of this exhibition.

The cycle of life is here traced through these two artists, working in radically different media half a millennium apart.

Although the works of both artists express a deep spirituality, especially in the latter halves of their lives, neither merely illustrates an established orthodoxy, nor attempts in his extensive writings to set out a systematic theology or philosophy; instead, they both integrate elements from diverse traditions.

Michelangelo explored profound Christian concepts, often in a mystic form, and fused them with the Neoplatonic philosophy that developed in Florence in the later fifteenth century, which emphasised the immortality of the soul and saw the material world as a corrupt reflection of the divine and perfect realm of God. Although in his last thirty years mystic Christianity dominated his thinking – and the form and content of his art – Michelangelo retained a sympathy with these Neoplatonic concepts to the end.

Viola’s spiritual journey has, in the modern manner, been more wide-ranging, and partly based on his first-hand experience of many different cultures. Born in New York in 1951, he studied art at Syracuse University and travelled to Italy at the age of 23, working in Florence for 18 months as a technical director at the pioneering studio art/tapes/22.

Whereas we tend to regard modern Florence as a vast museum, the city was then at the forefront of 15

2

Bill Viola The Messenger, 1996 Colour video projection on large vertical screen mounted on wall in darkened space; amplified stereo sound; projected image size 4.3 x 3.0 m; room dimensions 6.1 x 7.9 x 9.1 m Duration: continuously running Performer: Chad Walker Commissioned by Canon Bill Hall on behalf of The Chaplaincy to the Arts and Recreation in North East England. First shown as a site-specific installation in Durham Cathedral in 1996 (Year of the Visual Arts UK). Donated to Tate in 2016

A large image is projected on a screen. The image sequence begins with a small, central, luminous, abstract form shimmering and undulating against a deep blue-black void. Gradually the luminous shape begins to get larger and less distorted, and it soon becomes apparent that we are seeing a human form, illuminated, rising towards us from under the surface of a body of water. The water becomes more still and transparent and the figure more clear on its journey upwards towards us. We identify the figure as a man, pale blue, on his back rising up slowly.

After some time, the figure breaks the surface, an act at once startling, relieving and desperate.

His pale form emerges into the warm hues of bright light, the water glistening on his body. His eyes immediately open and he releases a long-held breath from the depths, shattering the silence of the image as this forceful primal sound of life resonates momentarily in the space. After a few moments, he inhales deeply, and, with his eyes shut and his mouth closed, he sinks into the depths of the blue-black void once more, returning to his origins as a shimmering, moving point of light.

The image sequence continually repeats, with the man perpetually rising and sinking, describing the constant circulation of birth and death, and functioning like a great cycle of respiration in the space.  b v 52

2

Bill Viola The Messenger, 1996 Colour video projection on large vertical screen mounted on wall in darkened space; amplified stereo sound; projected image size 4.3 x 3.0 m; room dimensions 6.1 x 7.9 x 9.1 m Duration: continuously running Performer: Chad Walker Commissioned by Canon Bill Hall on behalf of The Chaplaincy to the Arts and Recreation in North East England. First shown as a site-specific installation in Durham Cathedral in 1996 (Year of the Visual Arts UK). Donated to Tate in 2016

A large image is projected on a screen. The image sequence begins with a small, central, luminous, abstract form shimmering and undulating against a deep blue-black void. Gradually the luminous shape begins to get larger and less distorted, and it soon becomes apparent that we are seeing a human form, illuminated, rising towards us from under the surface of a body of water. The water becomes more still and transparent and the figure more clear on its journey upwards towards us. We identify the figure as a man, pale blue, on his back rising up slowly.

After some time, the figure breaks the surface, an act at once startling, relieving and desperate.

His pale form emerges into the warm hues of bright light, the water glistening on his body. His eyes immediately open and he releases a long-held breath from the depths, shattering the silence of the image as this forceful primal sound of life resonates momentarily in the space. After a few moments, he inhales deeply, and, with his eyes shut and his mouth closed, he sinks into the depths of the blue-black void once more, returning to his origins as a shimmering, moving point of light.

The image sequence continually repeats, with the man perpetually rising and sinking, describing the constant circulation of birth and death, and functioning like a great cycle of respiration in the space.  b v 52

6

Michelangelo Buonarroti The Lamentation over the Dead Christ, c. 1540 Black chalk, 28.1 x 26.8 cm The British Museum, London. Exchanged with Colnaghi, 1896, 1896,0710.1

The Virgin is seated on the ground at the centre of the group, her left leg bent and flat on the ground, her right knee raised to support the torso of her dead son on her lap. Christ’s head is thrown backwards, his right arm limp but his left hand still seeming to clutch claw-like at the Virgin’s shoulder. One mourner supports the swooning Virgin; three more surge forwards in grief towards the figure of Christ, their hollow-eyed heads forming a continuous line with the Virgin’s, while the figure at centre left reaches forwards to catch the weight of Christ’s body.

The figures form a single tight group differentiated primarily by degree of finish: parts of Christ’s body are modelled with almost as much care as the Risen Christ (cat. 25) and the torso of the Virgin is smooth and delicate, whereas the other mourners are deliberately rough in their drawing, the jagged lines echoing the rawness of their emotions.

This is one of several Lamentations drawn

by Michelangelo in c. 1540, probably as graphic meditations rather than as studies for some larger project. In all of these there is a fusion of forms and emotions into a single anguished mass, under the common effort of sustaining the dead weight of Christ (and here of the insensate Virgin too). The motif of the body of Christ held in the Virgin’s lap is an echo of the Virgin cradling her infant son: with her knees wide apart she seems almost to be receiving

back into her own body the man to whom she had once given birth, both Christ’s womb and his tomb.

The emphasis on the contact between the Virgin and the dead body of Christ relates Michelangelo’s drawings to the writings of the circle of Catholic reformers known as the Spirituali (see p. 31), especially the tract composed around the same date by his friend Vittoria Colonna, Pianto sopra la Passione di Christo (‘Lament on the Passion of Christ’) – a meditation on the significance of the Virgin holding the body of her dead son immediately after his Crucifixion, through which divine grace flowed to humanity. This correlation of physical and spiritual communion would have been understood instinctively by Michelangelo, whose art was based on finding material equivalents for spiritual states.

His other drawings of the subject around the same period are equally heavily worked, but, with the exception of one Pietà drawn for Colonna (Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston), none is brought to a high degree of finish in the manner of his gift drawings (such as cats 11–15). These seem therefore to be meditative exercises, perhaps prompted by (and certainly in sympathy with) the writings of Colonna, intensely personal explorations, through the medium of drawing, of the spiritual significance of Christ’s death. m c 67

6

Michelangelo Buonarroti The Lamentation over the Dead Christ, c. 1540 Black chalk, 28.1 x 26.8 cm The British Museum, London. Exchanged with Colnaghi, 1896, 1896,0710.1

The Virgin is seated on the ground at the centre of the group, her left leg bent and flat on the ground, her right knee raised to support the torso of her dead son on her lap. Christ’s head is thrown backwards, his right arm limp but his left hand still seeming to clutch claw-like at the Virgin’s shoulder. One mourner supports the swooning Virgin; three more surge forwards in grief towards the figure of Christ, their hollow-eyed heads forming a continuous line with the Virgin’s, while the figure at centre left reaches forwards to catch the weight of Christ’s body.

The figures form a single tight group differentiated primarily by degree of finish: parts of Christ’s body are modelled with almost as much care as the Risen Christ (cat. 25) and the torso of the Virgin is smooth and delicate, whereas the other mourners are deliberately rough in their drawing, the jagged lines echoing the rawness of their emotions.

This is one of several Lamentations drawn

by Michelangelo in c. 1540, probably as graphic meditations rather than as studies for some larger project. In all of these there is a fusion of forms and emotions into a single anguished mass, under the common effort of sustaining the dead weight of Christ (and here of the insensate Virgin too). The motif of the body of Christ held in the Virgin’s lap is an echo of the Virgin cradling her infant son: with her knees wide apart she seems almost to be receiving

back into her own body the man to whom she had once given birth, both Christ’s womb and his tomb.

The emphasis on the contact between the Virgin and the dead body of Christ relates Michelangelo’s drawings to the writings of the circle of Catholic reformers known as the Spirituali (see p. 31), especially the tract composed around the same date by his friend Vittoria Colonna, Pianto sopra la Passione di Christo (‘Lament on the Passion of Christ’) – a meditation on the significance of the Virgin holding the body of her dead son immediately after his Crucifixion, through which divine grace flowed to humanity. This correlation of physical and spiritual communion would have been understood instinctively by Michelangelo, whose art was based on finding material equivalents for spiritual states.

His other drawings of the subject around the same period are equally heavily worked, but, with the exception of one Pietà drawn for Colonna (Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston), none is brought to a high degree of finish in the manner of his gift drawings (such as cats 11–15). These seem therefore to be meditative exercises, perhaps prompted by (and certainly in sympathy with) the writings of Colonna, intensely personal explorations, through the medium of drawing, of the spiritual significance of Christ’s death. m c 67

9

Bill Viola The Sleep of Reason, 1988 Colour video images projected on three walls of a carpeted room, wooden chest with black-and-white video image on small monitor, vase with white artificial roses, table lamp with black shade, digital clock; monitor, room lights and projections controlled by random timer; amplified stereo sound and one channel of audio from monitor; projected image sizes: facing wall 3.50 x 4.62 m, side walls 2.97 x 3.96 m; room dimensions 4.3 x 8.2 x 9.5 m Duration: continuously running Courtesy Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh. Purchased with funds provided by Milton Fine and the A. W. Mellon Acquisition Endowment Fund, 88.33

On a wooden chest in a large empty room, a black-and-white monitor shows a close-up view of a person sleeping. The sleeper’s night sounds are heard softly. A vase with white roses, a small lamp, and a digital clock are also on the chest top. The floor of the room is carpeted and the space illuminated. Suddenly, the lights cut out and the room is plunged into total darkness. Large colour moving images are seen covering three of the walls and a loud, disturbing sound of moaning and roaring fills the space. Just as suddenly, the images vanish, the lights come back on, and the room returns to normal. It is as if a momentary glimpse of another, parallel world has appeared, the dark underside of a familiar, well-lit environment.

The blackouts occur at random periods, behaving like unpredictable ‘image seizures’ from some incurable schizophrenic affliction of the room.

Present for only a few seconds, they can reoccur anywhere from less than one second to several minutes later, impossible to anticipate. The three projections of imagery on the walls are from a single videotape. Images include fires burning out of control through city buildings, fierce attack dogs lunging at the camera, wild movement through a forest at night, moving X-rays of human beings and animals, and a provoked owl flying into a bright light. b v 76

9

Bill Viola The Sleep of Reason, 1988 Colour video images projected on three walls of a carpeted room, wooden chest with black-and-white video image on small monitor, vase with white artificial roses, table lamp with black shade, digital clock; monitor, room lights and projections controlled by random timer; amplified stereo sound and one channel of audio from monitor; projected image sizes: facing wall 3.50 x 4.62 m, side walls 2.97 x 3.96 m; room dimensions 4.3 x 8.2 x 9.5 m Duration: continuously running Courtesy Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh. Purchased with funds provided by Milton Fine and the A. W. Mellon Acquisition Endowment Fund, 88.33

On a wooden chest in a large empty room, a black-and-white monitor shows a close-up view of a person sleeping. The sleeper’s night sounds are heard softly. A vase with white roses, a small lamp, and a digital clock are also on the chest top. The floor of the room is carpeted and the space illuminated. Suddenly, the lights cut out and the room is plunged into total darkness. Large colour moving images are seen covering three of the walls and a loud, disturbing sound of moaning and roaring fills the space. Just as suddenly, the images vanish, the lights come back on, and the room returns to normal. It is as if a momentary glimpse of another, parallel world has appeared, the dark underside of a familiar, well-lit environment.

The blackouts occur at random periods, behaving like unpredictable ‘image seizures’ from some incurable schizophrenic affliction of the room.

Present for only a few seconds, they can reoccur anywhere from less than one second to several minutes later, impossible to anticipate. The three projections of imagery on the walls are from a single videotape. Images include fires burning out of control through city buildings, fierce attack dogs lunging at the camera, wild movement through a forest at night, moving X-rays of human beings and animals, and a provoked owl flying into a bright light. b v 76

14

Michelangelo Buonarroti Archers Shooting at a Herm, c. 1530 Red chalk, 21.9 x 32.3 cm The Royal Collection / HM Queen Elizabeth II, 912778

The scene is an indeterminate rocky platform upon which a group of figures, male and female, are posed as if firing arrows at a shield fixed to a herm (a freestanding column with the upper half in human form). Some of the figures, most clearly the woman at the back of the group, are airborne, and most do not bear bows, though arrows are seen stuck into the target and elsewhere on the herm – their aim has been conspicuously awry. At the front of the group two figures sprawl on the ground, and two infants can be seen among the main group. In the right foreground a winged Cupid, god of love, is sleeping with his bow and arrows, while to the far left two children blow on a fire (with arrows protruding from its base) and feed it with bundles of sticks.

Michelangelo plays with the contrast between the high polish of the central group and the looser finish of the sleeping Cupid and the herm. But their spatial relationships are unclear or even contradictory, and there is an awkward misalignment between the archers and the herm, which seem to be seen from different angles – Michelangelo’s pursuit of spatial variety over spatial integrity led to an unresolved disharmony.

The conceits depicted here – the flames of passion, the arrows of desire – were commonplace in the Renaissance, as they still are, and thus while no direct literary source has been identified, the meaning is plain.11 As with the pairing of Ganymede (see fig. 8) and Tityus (cat. 11), Michelangelo distinguishes between two forms of love: base physical desire, and divine love through the contemplation of beauty. The winged Cupid is sleeping and thus unable to guide the archers, for only with love can one achieve one’s target, the soul’s ascent through beauty to the divine sphere. Instead the archers are frenetically impelled by the flames of passion, and their arrows are thus unable to hit their mark. The two infants among the group have no interest in firing at the target; a little comically, the old man at upper left is unable even to string his bow (his resemblance to Michelangelo – bearded and with a deformed nose – is probably, but not certainly, unintentional).

This imagery of archers, arrows and fire is found frequently in Michelangelo’s poetry:

Gli anni del corso mio al segno sono, come saetta c’al berzaglio è giunta, onde si de’ quetar l’ardente foco.

E’ mie passati danni a te perdono, cagion che ’l cor l’arme tu’ spezza e spunta, c’amor per pruova in me non ha più loco; …

La morte in questa età sol ne difende dal fiero braccio e da’ pungenti strali, cagion di tanti mali, che non perdona a condizion nessuna, né a loco, né tempo, né fortuna.

The years of my life’s journey have reached their mark, like an arrow that has landed on its target, and so the burning fire ought to have died down.

The ills done me in the past I pardon you, since thanks to them my heart snaps and blunts your weapons, for through experience love no longer has any place in me; …

At this age, what defends one from the savage arm and the piercing arrows, cause of so many evils, is death alone, which does not spare any condition, or place, or time, or fortune.12 Fuggite, amanti, Amor, fuggite ’l foco; l’incendio è aspro e la piaga è mortale, c’oltr’a l’impeto primo più non vale né forza né ragione né mutar loco.

Fuggite, or che l’esemplo non è poco d’un fiero braccio e d’un acuto strale; leggete in me, qual sarà ’l vostro male, qual sarà l’impio e dispietato gioco.

Fuggite, e non tardate, al primo sguardo: ch’i’ pensa’ d’ogni tempo avere accordo; or sento, e voi vedete, com’io ardo.

Flee Love, lovers, flee the fire; its burning is fierce and its wound is fatal, for after Love’s first assault nothing can be of any help, neither strength nor reason nor change of place.

Flee, now that you have no small example of what his savage arm and sharp arrow can do; read in me what evil will be yours, what the cruel and pitiless game will be.

Flee, do not linger, at the first glance; for I thought that I could at any time come to terms with him; now I well know, and you can see, how I do burn.13 m c 95

14

Michelangelo Buonarroti Archers Shooting at a Herm, c. 1530 Red chalk, 21.9 x 32.3 cm The Royal Collection / HM Queen Elizabeth II, 912778

The scene is an indeterminate rocky platform upon which a group of figures, male and female, are posed as if firing arrows at a shield fixed to a herm (a freestanding column with the upper half in human form). Some of the figures, most clearly the woman at the back of the group, are airborne, and most do not bear bows, though arrows are seen stuck into the target and elsewhere on the herm – their aim has been conspicuously awry. At the front of the group two figures sprawl on the ground, and two infants can be seen among the main group. In the right foreground a winged Cupid, god of love, is sleeping with his bow and arrows, while to the far left two children blow on a fire (with arrows protruding from its base) and feed it with bundles of sticks.

Michelangelo plays with the contrast between the high polish of the central group and the looser finish of the sleeping Cupid and the herm. But their spatial relationships are unclear or even contradictory, and there is an awkward misalignment between the archers and the herm, which seem to be seen from different angles – Michelangelo’s pursuit of spatial variety over spatial integrity led to an unresolved disharmony.

The conceits depicted here – the flames of passion, the arrows of desire – were commonplace in the Renaissance, as they still are, and thus while no direct literary source has been identified, the meaning is plain.11 As with the pairing of Ganymede (see fig. 8) and Tityus (cat. 11), Michelangelo distinguishes between two forms of love: base physical desire, and divine love through the contemplation of beauty. The winged Cupid is sleeping and thus unable to guide the archers, for only with love can one achieve one’s target, the soul’s ascent through beauty to the divine sphere. Instead the archers are frenetically impelled by the flames of passion, and their arrows are thus unable to hit their mark. The two infants among the group have no interest in firing at the target; a little comically, the old man at upper left is unable even to string his bow (his resemblance to Michelangelo – bearded and with a deformed nose – is probably, but not certainly, unintentional).

This imagery of archers, arrows and fire is found frequently in Michelangelo’s poetry:

Gli anni del corso mio al segno sono, come saetta c’al berzaglio è giunta, onde si de’ quetar l’ardente foco.

E’ mie passati danni a te perdono, cagion che ’l cor l’arme tu’ spezza e spunta, c’amor per pruova in me non ha più loco; …

La morte in questa età sol ne difende dal fiero braccio e da’ pungenti strali, cagion di tanti mali, che non perdona a condizion nessuna, né a loco, né tempo, né fortuna.

The years of my life’s journey have reached their mark, like an arrow that has landed on its target, and so the burning fire ought to have died down.

The ills done me in the past I pardon you, since thanks to them my heart snaps and blunts your weapons, for through experience love no longer has any place in me; …

At this age, what defends one from the savage arm and the piercing arrows, cause of so many evils, is death alone, which does not spare any condition, or place, or time, or fortune.12 Fuggite, amanti, Amor, fuggite ’l foco; l’incendio è aspro e la piaga è mortale, c’oltr’a l’impeto primo più non vale né forza né ragione né mutar loco.

Fuggite, or che l’esemplo non è poco d’un fiero braccio e d’un acuto strale; leggete in me, qual sarà ’l vostro male, qual sarà l’impio e dispietato gioco.

Fuggite, e non tardate, al primo sguardo: ch’i’ pensa’ d’ogni tempo avere accordo; or sento, e voi vedete, com’io ardo.

Flee Love, lovers, flee the fire; its burning is fierce and its wound is fatal, for after Love’s first assault nothing can be of any help, neither strength nor reason nor change of place.

Flee, now that you have no small example of what his savage arm and sharp arrow can do; read in me what evil will be yours, what the cruel and pitiless game will be.

Flee, do not linger, at the first glance; for I thought that I could at any time come to terms with him; now I well know, and you can see, how I do burn.13 m c 95

17

Bill Viola The Veiling, 1995 Two channels of colour video projections from opposite sides of a large dark gallery through nine large scrims, each 2.4 x 3.3 m, suspended from the ceiling; two channels of amplified mono sound, four speakers; room dimensions 3.5 x 7.4 x 11.5 m Duration: 30 minutes Performers: Lora Stone, Gary Murphy Courtesy Bill Viola Studio

Thin parallel layers of translucent cloth hang loosely across the centre of a dark room. Two projectors at opposite ends of the space face each other and project images into the layers of material.

The images show a man and a woman as they approach and move away from the camera, viewed in various nocturnal landscapes. They each appear on separate, opposing video channels, and are seen gradually moving from dark areas of shadow into areas of bright light. The cloth material diffuses the light and the images dissipate in intensity and focus as they penetrate further into the scrim layers, eventually intersecting each other as gossamer presences on the central veil. Recorded independently, the images of the man and the woman never coexist in the same video frame.

It is only the light from their images that intermingles in the fabric of the hanging veils. The cone of light emerging from each projector is articulated in space by the layers of material, revealing its presence as a three-dimensional form that moves through and fills the empty space of the room with its translucent mass.  bv 104

17

Bill Viola The Veiling, 1995 Two channels of colour video projections from opposite sides of a large dark gallery through nine large scrims, each 2.4 x 3.3 m, suspended from the ceiling; two channels of amplified mono sound, four speakers; room dimensions 3.5 x 7.4 x 11.5 m Duration: 30 minutes Performers: Lora Stone, Gary Murphy Courtesy Bill Viola Studio

Thin parallel layers of translucent cloth hang loosely across the centre of a dark room. Two projectors at opposite ends of the space face each other and project images into the layers of material.

The images show a man and a woman as they approach and move away from the camera, viewed in various nocturnal landscapes. They each appear on separate, opposing video channels, and are seen gradually moving from dark areas of shadow into areas of bright light. The cloth material diffuses the light and the images dissipate in intensity and focus as they penetrate further into the scrim layers, eventually intersecting each other as gossamer presences on the central veil. Recorded independently, the images of the man and the woman never coexist in the same video frame.

It is only the light from their images that intermingles in the fabric of the hanging veils. The cone of light emerging from each projector is articulated in space by the layers of material, revealing its presence as a three-dimensional form that moves through and fills the empty space of the room with its translucent mass.  bv 104

19

Bill Viola Five Angels for the Millennium, 2001 i. ‘Departing Angel’ ii. ‘Birth Angel’ iii. ‘Fire Angel’ iv. ‘Ascending Angel’ v. ‘Creation Angel’ Five channels of colour video projection on walls in large, dark room; stereo sound for each projection; projected image size, each 2.4 x 3.2 m; room dimensions 3.7 x 15.25 x 18.3 m Duration: continuously running Performers: Josh Coxx (panels i.–iv.), Andrew Tritz (panel v.)

Courtesy Bill Viola Studio

Five Angels for the Millennium consists of five individual video sequences showing a clothed man plunging into a pool of water. Playing simultaneously and repeating on a continuous loop, the images are projected directly onto the walls of a large dark room.

The ‘angel’ appears infrequently on each screen, breaking through the surface in a sudden explosion of light and sound that interrupts an otherwise peaceful aqueous landscape. Weightless and motionless, the human figure enters into the depths of a mysterious underwater world, a luminous void of unknown dimensions where the laws of physics seem suspended and the borders between the infinite cosmos and the finite human body merge.

Shining bubbles float like stars in the night sky as the human form traverses the gap between heaven and earth, suspended between light and darkness, time and eternity, life and death. bv 114

19

Bill Viola Five Angels for the Millennium, 2001 i. ‘Departing Angel’ ii. ‘Birth Angel’ iii. ‘Fire Angel’ iv. ‘Ascending Angel’ v. ‘Creation Angel’ Five channels of colour video projection on walls in large, dark room; stereo sound for each projection; projected image size, each 2.4 x 3.2 m; room dimensions 3.7 x 15.25 x 18.3 m Duration: continuously running Performers: Josh Coxx (panels i.–iv.), Andrew Tritz (panel v.)

Courtesy Bill Viola Studio

Five Angels for the Millennium consists of five individual video sequences showing a clothed man plunging into a pool of water. Playing simultaneously and repeating on a continuous loop, the images are projected directly onto the walls of a large dark room.

The ‘angel’ appears infrequently on each screen, breaking through the surface in a sudden explosion of light and sound that interrupts an otherwise peaceful aqueous landscape. Weightless and motionless, the human figure enters into the depths of a mysterious underwater world, a luminous void of unknown dimensions where the laws of physics seem suspended and the borders between the infinite cosmos and the finite human body merge.

Shining bubbles float like stars in the night sky as the human form traverses the gap between heaven and earth, suspended between light and darkness, time and eternity, life and death. bv 114

26

Bill Viola Tristan’s Ascension (The Sound of a Mountain Under a Waterfall), 2005 Colour high-definition video projection; four channels of sound with subwoofer (4.1); projected image size 5.80 x 3.25 m; room dimensions variable Duration: 10 minutes 16 seconds Performer: John Hay Courtesy Bill Viola Studio

Tristan’s Ascension describes the ascent of the soul in the space after death as it is awakened and drawn up in a backwards-flowing waterfall. The body of a man is seen lying on a stone slab in an empty concrete room. Small drips of water become visible as they leave the ground and fall upward into space.

What starts as a light rain soon becomes a roaring deluge, and the cascading water jostles the man’s limp body and soon brings him to life. His arms move of their own accord and his torso arches upward amidst the churning water.

Finally, his entire body rises off the slab and is drawn up with the rushing water, disappearing above.

The torrent of water gradually subsides and the drips decrease until only the empty slab remains, glistening on the wet ground. b v 132

26

Bill Viola Tristan’s Ascension (The Sound of a Mountain Under a Waterfall), 2005 Colour high-definition video projection; four channels of sound with subwoofer (4.1); projected image size 5.80 x 3.25 m; room dimensions variable Duration: 10 minutes 16 seconds Performer: John Hay Courtesy Bill Viola Studio

Tristan’s Ascension describes the ascent of the soul in the space after death as it is awakened and drawn up in a backwards-flowing waterfall. The body of a man is seen lying on a stone slab in an empty concrete room. Small drips of water become visible as they leave the ground and fall upward into space.

What starts as a light rain soon becomes a roaring deluge, and the cascading water jostles the man’s limp body and soon brings him to life. His arms move of their own accord and his torso arches upward amidst the churning water.

Finally, his entire body rises off the slab and is drawn up with the rushing water, disappearing above.

The torrent of water gradually subsides and the drips decrease until only the empty slab remains, glistening on the wet ground. b v 132