Saint Thomas Aquinas 1605

Curator: This is Adam Elsheimer's "Saint Thomas Aquinas," painted in 1605. Editor: The most immediate thing for me is how tactile this is. You can see the oil paint, built up in layers to achieve a realistic, if somewhat muddy, complexion. The overall palette feels constrained and earthy. Curator: Yes, the materiality is certainly striking, especially how Elsheimer renders the weight of the saint's habit. But I'm drawn to what Aquinas holds—it looks like a miniature building, almost as if he’s holding the city of God itself, architectural symbolism heavy with meaning! Editor: Well, consider that the 'city of God' would, materially speaking, rely on architectural models, draftsmen, laborers… the whole process made tangible in the model he holds. It pulls what could be mere symbolism into a space of production. Curator: Good point, I'm also intrigued by his surroundings. The almost-ruined state of the buildings and overgrown landscape suggest something beyond pure, unwavering faith—perhaps the enduring, but flawed, nature of earthly institutions. Note that on the little balcony there is a woman in a balcony gazing at the Saint, perhaps is Mary or the symbol of church. Editor: And consider those buildings! Constructed, brick by brick, through sheer material labor. To me, this reading roots the Saint back in a context of labor, rather than abstract philosophy. Curator: Indeed. The portrait exists as an intersection of belief and construction, bridging the ethereal and the everyday, perhaps. Editor: A lovely way to summarize; seeing both faith and its means of construction allows a deeper insight than either could offer on its own. Curator: Yes, I think you are right! Seeing Aquinas in this way gives us a lot to consider, doesn’t it? Editor: It certainly does. It turns conventional assumptions about his image on its head.