This is another retablo I did because they are really
fun. I had another idea and an extra frame and wanted to
try it.
I have always wanted to paint a woman on a wheel. I have always loved the tarot cards of the
Wheel of Fortune, and the Universe with its cosmic dancer. And I often saw a woman on a wheel when I
would hear when I would hear a certain song.
The song is on this old cd I have called “Music of Medieval
Love” by New York’s
Ensemble for Early Music. It is a song
about St. Katherine. The voices repeat
and blend into each other, over and over and over, like the turning of a
wheel. I used to listen to it a long
time ago, walking around New York
at night with the neon lights all glowing.
The lights and the turning sounds and the story of a woman on a
firecracker wheel- I always wanted to paint this somehow.
I am not Catholic or anything and do not know much about
saints. But maybe people do and maybe
someone would like to sincerely pray to St. Katherine, and this is a retablo
and that is what it’s for- praying, I mean. So I tried
not to get all distracted by firecrackers and tarot card and just stick to some
classic St. Katherine imagery. So there
needs to be her, and a wheel, and a book, and some spikes.
A book: as it turns out she is the patron saint of learning
and students. She was a brilliant Christian
philosopher in Alexandria. The bad guys tried to best her in religious
argument but she beat them. They got
mad. But the emporer liked her and
wanted to marry her on the condition she renounce her religion. She wouldn’t.
A wheel: they strapped her on a wheel.
Some spikes: the wheel had spikes on it.
It rotated over her and killed her.
Then they cut off her head.
But then, the turning wheel exploded! Shards of spikes and gigantic sharp splinters
shot out into the crowd and killed everybody.
Then from the sky, Christ whizzed towards her, scooped up her body and
took it safe into the desert into the sun, to Mt. Sinai.
I wanted to do this painting because of the visual image of
a woman in a circle. Not because of the
story. This tale, like most tales of medieval
saints, was not appealing to me- very bloody and vengeful and all that stuff
you try to overcome if you are into peace on earth and everything. But I was also dealing with some very heavy
issues at the time of heartbreak and shame.
You might listen to Patti Smith at a time like this and you might get
all into St. Katherine. I could
empathize with what a medieval woman might have seen in that story. In a world where you couldn’t speak your own
mind, of the incredible pain of childbirth, abuse and humiliation, it might
have been cathartic to pray to a saint who said anything she wanted to and sent
sharp pieces of an exploding wheel into the hearts of her enemies. That could go for this world too, I think.
Out of the story, what remains precious for me is her
courage to speak her truth.
P.S. The words on the
painting are hard to read on the computer, so here they are-
Around the frame (taken
from “O laudanda Virginitas (Katerina)” New York Ensemble for Early Music
O laudanda virginitas
etas sexus conditio!
passa regalis dignitas
iam regnat a supplicio.
(translation ) O Praiseworthy virginity,
youth and the condition of womanhood!
As royal dignity suffers,
now she rules free of all humiliation.
Within the picture:
Katerina. The story of courage tears apart my
shame.
Brooke Houston 2011.
