The Meaning of the Coptic Art
Confluence, Convergence, Emergence

This aesthetic tendency carries over into depictions of inspired men (saints) though they are clearly human and always placed below Jesus in the Coptic iconic template. We will see below that this restrained aesthetic was quite in harmony with the iconography of Ancient Egyptian religions. The emphasis on Christ¹s Divinity, a compliment to the then current philosophic argument that the soul was a precedent to the body, and the visual and poetic culture which stems from it, is what most distinguishes Copts from their Roman and Eastern brethren.

The immediacy, the "presentness," of this Neo-Coptic art to us is further explained by a more recent phenomenon, the slow but steady emergence of the Coptic community and its artists from twelve centuries of imposed isolation from the larger world. Neo-Coptic artists are now confronting in a dynamic way the culture and art that prevails in the West. Restraint is not constraint; there is a developmental aspect to this ancient form. While the icons show restraint, even rigidity, the artist himself has some freedom within the form to infuse it with his own individuality.

Now centered in Cairo, the Coptic culture was born in the once intellectually, culturally and theologically vital Hellenic city of Alexandria. That Mediterranean harbor thrived from its founding in 332 B.C. until 643 A.D. It was then that the great ancient city fell from the heights of Western and Near-Eastern culture into a hidden crevice of the Islamic world. A Tall amphora became a cracked urn. For centuries amidst the paroxysms of the Greek and Roman worlds, even with the rise of Constantinople, Alexandria with its boisterous clerics, theologians and teachers was at the pinnacle of the emerging Christian world. It was here amidst currents of Pagan philosophy, Arianism, Neo-Platonism, Gnosticism, Mithraism, Judaism, and the enduring presence of Egyptian, Greek and Roman pantheons that Christianity first thrived. Christians themselves were an integral part of the intellectual mix. As Synesius tells us after a disappointing trip to Athens, "it is in Egypt now that Philosophy flourishes." It was a ripe field for evangelism.

​

It was in Alexandria, the see of St. Mark, that the Athenian Clement taught Christianity in a way most attractive to the Hellenized mind. It was here that Origen battled Celsus over doctrine and that the Hermitic movement was born. It was here that St. Cyril battled against the revitalized Hellenistic paganism of the brilliant, beautiful, ill-fated Hypatia and stood victorious against Nestorius over the soul of the Church. His victory was not total but vital and enduring. It was here that Synesius of Cyrene, a student of Hypatia, became the embodiment of the transition from philosophic paganism to Christianity so emblematic of the Alexandrine experience. Synesius, an intellectual who would write some of the most enduring and beautiful hymns to Christ. Herodas wrote of Alexandria that it was, "the house of Aphrodite, and everything is to be found there - wealth, playgrounds, a large army, a serene sky, public displays, philosophers, precious metals, fine young men, a good royal house, an academy of science, exquisite wines and beautiful women."

St. Anthony passed through here and was tempted to return. He had removed himself from the world, a world encapsulated in this Egyptian cauldron. Flaubert has him imagining it thus:

​

"Strolling peddlers, porters, ass-drivers run and jostle together. Here and there one observes some priest of Osiris wearing a panther skin on his shoulders, a Roman soldier with his bronze helmet, and many Negroes. At the threshold of the shops women pause, artisans ply their trades; and the grinding noise of chariot wheels puts to flight the birds that devour the detritus of the butcher shops and the morsels of fish left upon the ground."

​

The general outline of the streets seems like a black network flung upon the white uniformity of the houses. The markets stocked with herbs make green bouquets in the midst of it; the drying yards of the dyers, blotches of color; the golden ornaments of the temple-pediments, luminous points all comprised within the oval enclosure of the grey ramparts, under the vault of the blue heaven, beside the motionless sea.

 

What magic it would have been to be a young man or woman tilling the wonders of a city at its azimuth. But As Charles Peguy wrote, "History does not go where one would wish. History goes where it wishes." Alexandria,Overwhelmed by Islam,largely because of its lively and eclectic atmosphere, was chastened and then ignored for centuries. The influence of Alexandria's Christians on the universal church subsided and eventually became vestigial. Now all eyes turned to Rome and Constantinople.

Islam, like Judaism and Christianity was an alternative to the paganism of the West and Near East, but in its zeal made no distinction between pagan representations, the foci of devotion and ritual, and spiritual imagery. This led some Moslems to periodically destroy Coptic works of art. Such choleric purity is at the best unfriendly to other beliefs and the representations of those beliefs.

 

The survival of the Coptic Church and even more its visual culture is a marvel of history and a testament to faith. The Copts became a minority, but despite recurring sequences of toleration and persecution they survived and are with us today. It is likely that the extreme devotion that comes of separation kept the Church in place, respectful of the Ancient Egyptian and Hellenic elements of its art and other ties to its history. To a certain extent time stood still. The works represented here are apparitions ancient and contemporary. Alexandria, the Nile, the hills of Judea, Akademos and the Tiber -- they are all here for the discerning eye.

 

That there should be such a convergence of thought and culture is not unexpected; it is a common theme in cultural anthropology, general history and art history, but it does not happen by itself. Men make history. There is a vast historiography devoted to the emergence of Christianity and its dynamic correspondence to philosophy, rhetoric and paganism. Historians of Ancient times, religion and art confront what Arnold Toynbee called, "the schism of the soul," and the eventual reintegration of that soul based on new beliefs and realities.

​

This dynamic was natural, but many of the Fathers of Christianity were very aware of the force of tradition and cleverly drew from the heterodoxy to instill their new orthodoxy in the minds and hearts of those they were trying to bring into the flock. Though others tried, for example Philo the Alexandrian Jew, it was the Christian leadership that was most successful at absorbing philosophy and paganism into their faith. We spoke of Synesius above. His eclectic background gave his words a unique potency, but he was just one of many. An Italian historian of early Christianity, Arnaldo Momigliano, writes:

​

"The church attracted the most creative minds-St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, Hilarius of Poitiers, St. Augustine in the West; Athanasius, John Chrysostom, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Basil of Caesarea in the East. Almost all born rulers, rulers of a type which, with the exception of the scholarly emperor Julian, it was hard to find on the imperial throne. They combined Christian theology with pagan philosophy, worldly political abilities with a secure faith in immortal values. They could tell both the learned and the unlearned how they should behave, and consequently transformed both the external features and the inner meaning of the daily existence of an increasing number of people."

 

It is in precisely this manner, though we cannot swear to the political acumen of the artist, that the external feature of existence that we call art was also transformed. Though some might argue about degree, there is no doubt that Coptic art emerged from the Egyptian and Egypto-Hellenic visual culture that surrounded the first Christian artists of Egypt.

​

In some instances we can see this expressed explicitly in content. In most cases the correspondence is less explicit and more a matter of form and affect. This is only natural in that the actual content being depicted was different. The most often noted evidence of pure Egyptian influence is the similarity between the Coptic depiction of the Cross and the symbol of life, the 'Ankh' ( ). In fact, in early relief slabs one can see joined together the Christian Cross, the Ankh and the Greek letters, Alpha (a) and Omega (w).

​

We discussed above the significance, as a transitional object, to Coptic Art and theology of the widespread cult of Isis, especially the mother/son imagery. It so happens that the ancient trinity of Isis, Osiris and Horace reached its peak of popularity as Rome was teetering and Christianity was ascendant. Hellenistic philosophies which seemed to engender captiousness were becoming effectively moribund despite their intrinsic worth. In the troubled times that befell the Empire from the second century onward, mystery religions and magic were more comforting than the more complicated Athenian chatter; as too was the warm and beckoning embrace of Christianity. It is of no surprise to us that aesthetically pleasing and comforting deities should find their essences in the matrix of Coptic art.