You surely have seen the screenshot of a tweet that goes something like “a guy made a Lucifer statue that was too hot for the church, so they asked his brother and he made an even hotter one”. And it is absolutely true.
In the first half of the XIX century, the administration of the Liege Cathedral in Belgium decided that they needed a new pulpit. You know, that elevated place in a church so that you can see the priest and hear the sermon better? They commissioned a prominent sculptor at the time, Guillaume Geefs. They wanted the pulpit to be thematical and the theme was a very simple one — “The triumph of religion over the spirit of evil”. But the truth is, Guillaume was not the first to have been commissioned. He had a brother, Joseph (he actually had five, all of them sculptors), who created the statue of Lucifer. Lucifer was depicted as a handsome, muscular and, most importantly, half-nacked young man, covering his, I beg your pardon, loins, almost peeking between his legs, with just a thin piece of fabric. The sight ended up being not very triumphal: the fallen angel shyly stares at the floor, his coquettish curly hair falling on his face while a snake coils beneath his feet. The snake, in fact, was the only thing left to remind us of Lucifer — in all the rest he was just like a regular human. Joseph gave the statue a tender name — “L’Ange du Mal” — “The Angel of Evil”
For obvious reasons, 1843 did not provide women with a wide range of entertainment options. Very soon people started noticing the unambiguous glances given to the statue by the young damsels attending the church, while in fact, their only job was to listen to sermons and repent. An (almost) universal indignation started. The comments in the newspapers were that the statue was “too beautiful”, it’s not canon to show Lucifer like that and you cannot read the Christian idea here. And he doesn’t look particularly defeated either. So bishop van Bommel ordered Joseph’s statue to be taken down and commissioned Guillaume a new one… and, let me put it this way, Guillaume did deliver (to the damsels or the Church — it’s up to you). Nobody really knows whether he actually tried to take the criticism addressed to his brother into consideration or it was by accident, but in his version, Lucifer looks a tad more defeated and a bit more canon. There were now talons on his feet; the coquettish curls were harbouring small horns; a crown was melancholically hanging on his knee; an apple was hinting at the original sin and a broken sceptre with the morning star — at Lucifer. The right foot and the left hand were chained to the rock under him and a teardrop is seen rolling on his cheek — he is clearly repenting. He was also about 5% more dressed, his legs modestly crossed yet you could see more of his muscles thanks to his raised arm. Wikipedia playfully adds “Whether Guillaume succeeded in removing the "seductive" elements may be a matter of individual perception” and I couldn’t agree more.
Apparently, the individual perception of the local priests told them that this statue turned out to be less… sensual, or maybe they simply cared more about approved iconography than the forbidden thoughts of the congregation (both male and female, let’s face it, the dude’s hot), so “The Spirit of Evil” or “The Genius of Evil” can still be observed in the Liege Cathedral. Or maybe the individual perception of the local priests approved of the muscular torso of mister Morningstar. Who cares about canon in this case?
#art_history
#XIXth
