Impressions From Cyprus
LARNACA from the air looks starkly desolate. The coast of Cyprus here is hard and brittle, scorched ochre in colour. The horizon toward the sea is a haze of cobalt-edged white and azure.
LARNACA from the air looks starkly desolate. The coast of Cyprus here is hard and brittle, scorched ochre in colour. The horizon toward the sea is a haze of cobalt-edged white and azure.
There survive a great number of icons, apart from those in the great tradition of the Eastern Church of the Medieval period which were executed during the Ottoman domination.
During the 16th and 17th centuries, two peculiarities in the art of Orthodoxy stand out increasingly. On the one hand there is a group of painters who flirt with the styles and iconography of Western art to the point of introducing oil techniques which destroy once and for all the character of the icon.
In the fourth part of his series on Byzantine icons, Nikos Stavroulakis examines the development of iconography after the Turkish conquest of Constantinople.
The chaos of the Latin States which resulted from the Fourth Crusade’s seizure of Constantinople in 1204 did not succeed in extinguishing either Byzantium or its heritage. Both the usurping Latin ‘Empire’ as well as the Frankish principalities and dukedoms produced a veneer of Western affectations that was met by the conservative hatred of both the Orthodox clergy and the laity who waited patiently for the legitimate Empire to be re-established. Their hopes were not, however, simply the substance of dreams.
The growing interest in icons over the last twenty years reflects a breakdown in traditional religious values: interest is directed to the icon not as an object of veneration but as a work of art.
Visiting the old former Turkish Quarter of Chania is somewhat like moving into the centre of a whirlwind: as one moves away from the edges of the funnel, one increasingly approaches a centre where there is no movement.