Today is my
100th blog post, and it’s also December 8, 2019, the Second Sunday
of Advent. I had never heard the term
before we moved to Germany. Here’s what it
means, from the horse’s mouth (christianity.com):
The
word “Advent” is derived from the Latin word adventus,
meaning “coming,” which is a translation of the Greek word parousia. Scholars believe that
during the 4th and 5th centuries in Spain and Gaul,
Advent was a season of preparation for the baptism of new Christians at the
January feast of Epiphany, the celebration of God’s incarnation represented by
the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus (Matthew
2:1), his baptism in the Jordan River by John the Baptist (John
1:29), and his first miracle at Cana (John
2:1). During this season of preparation, Christians would spend 40 days in
penance, prayer, and fasting to prepare for this celebration; originally, there
was little connection between Advent and Christmas.
By
the 6th century, however, Roman Christians had tied Advent to the
coming of Christ. But the “coming” they had in mind was not Christ’s first
coming in the manger in Bethlehem, but his second coming in the clouds as the
judge of the world. [See below.]
It
was not until the Middle Ages that the Advent season was explicitly linked to
Christ’s first coming at Christmas.
So that’s
Advent. But I’m feeling festive today and
not interested in judging, so let’s skip over this second coming stuff and
focus on the initial arrival: Christmas. There are only 16 more shopping days until
Christmas, and the stores in Berlin, which are always closed on Sunday (by
law), will be open for business on the Second and Fourth Advent Sundays.
So that’s commerce. But I’m feeling restive for beauty today and not
interested in shopping, so let’s also skip over the commercial implications of
Christmas. Instead, let’s focus on the magical
visual delights generated by the season.
In that spirit, and out of a love of sheer, unadulterated beauty, I offer
you a pre-Christmas gift, a photo essay on chubby, cheerful cherubs and flying acrobat angels sculpted by
Serpotta (1656-1732), whose portrait you see here.
Like Rodin, Serpotta sculpted his models first in clay (like La Carita' [Charity] below) and then to scale in plaster. But the comparisons end there. Serpotta, unlike Rodin, didn't cast his works in plaster molds. He modeled them in situ, in rough plaster that looks like concrete, supported by internally hidden iron rods, adding a final coat of fine plaster mixed with marble dust that was polished to a high sheen, rendering the finished work to appear as if it had been carved from a solid block of Carrara stone.
Last May I
wrote about Serpotta’s work in the Oratorio
di San Lorenzo: Blogspot
Serpotta. The sculptures in this
post have been painstakingly restored and can be seen at the Oratorio dei Bianchi in Palermo. They were salvaged from the demolition detritus
of the Chiesa delle Stimmate di San
Giuliano, which was razed in 1874 to make way for the construction of a
cathedral to music, Teatro Massimo, the
largest opera house in Italy and the third largest in Europe.
So, without
further ado, enjoy your Second Advent Sunday and these chubby, cheerful cherubs and flying acrobat angels!
Keep it
real!
Marilyn















Happy Happy Blogger Anniversary to you Lady M! I prefer cherubs to commerce as well. Never been a big shopper which is probably why I like Thanksgiving so much. Enjoy the festive season! x
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