Paternoster 1940

Nicholas Roerich painted Paternoster with tempera on canvas sometime in the first half of the 20th century. I imagine Roerich layering these blues, one after another, like a meditative mantra, to create a world of sacredness and mystery. And then, that little spark of orange, that human presence, kneeling by the water, illuminated by the otherworldly glow of those floating fish. I wonder what Roerich was thinking about as he painted this scene. Was he longing for some kind of spiritual connection? Was he also kneeling down, as if in prayer, as he made those brushstrokes? I can almost feel the texture of the canvas, slightly rough, like a woven fabric, each thread absorbing the colors and giving them a subtle, earthy quality. This feels like a quiet moment stolen from a larger narrative, one that Roerich explored again and again. He was a theosophist and spiritual seeker, whose work has always beckoned to me, in my own process, as an artist, when I’m trying to find ways to paint an image of an unknowable feeling.