A visual Journey into the Bible The Book of Genesis

A Visual Journey into the Bible Page: 34
sits on the right, in a pure Michelangelo attitude so that his powerful muscles show.
The painting therefore, by its content and the poises of its figures could be considered
as a typical academic work of a French scholar in Rome. But Léon Bonnat, through
his use of light in the picture and through his deep colours, broke down the academic
treatment of the subject.
Abel lies on the rocks. Here, Bonnat used magnificent golden colours. He let the light
cover Abel and bring his fine, thin chest be the central area of the painting. Abel is
indeed shown like a Jesus, a young, delicate man with slender traits and limbs, elegant
long arms and legs. When we compare Abel with Adam, we are quite surprised since
Abel is so much more exquisite, more vulnerable in the barren, terrible desert into
which Adam and Eve and their family have been banished. Abel’s head hangs over
Eve’s knees, lifeless but as if sleeping and caressed by his mother.
Eve is seated. She holds her hands to her breast. She looks at her son. She is still a
young woman. She is serene, sullen, in apathy, in solemn sadness at so much hardness
of life, east of Eden, and at the death of her son. The golden light plays a little also on
her bare shoulders. Abel truly is her son, because he is as delicate as she is. Eve looks
at her son only. She looks intensely and lost to the world. She is alone, isolated, and
far from Adam. She makes no gesture of horror. Adam is not with her. She is one with
her son.
Adam sits to the right. He sits in a position like Michelangelo could have imagined for
a sculpture. Adam sits on his knees but his torso is turned so that Bonnat could paint
all the muscles of his powerful back. Adam sits like a wrestler and he is out of the
scene of Eve and Abel. He does not belong to the scene of grief, to the intimate
symbiosis of mother and son. He is the Hercules, the Vulcan of later times. He did not
choose Eve. Already the first couple, Adam and Eve, are distinct, separate, each
lonely, and too different to be able to sit together to mourn. They mourn so
differently. Eve is resigned; Adam drawing restless on his muscles, pulling them into
tension as if he were preparing to fight fate. Adam is a brute who continues to turn
and contort his body. Eve is softness and she is turned inwards; Adam is all outwardly
but futile display of force. The force is useless, spent, and the protest, the overt show
of power of Adam is in vain. Abel lies between Adam and Eve and both parents seem
to know that this death is more the result of the old sin, the old trespassing of God’s
command than a battle of life. As compared to the act of sin, the roles are reversed
since Eve is resigned and Adam revolts.
Léon Bonnat worked fully the contrasts between light and shadow in the Baroque
way. That also was new in a period where the Academy was much given over to the
legacy of Jean-Auguste Dominique Ingres and Jacques-Louis David. One would have
expected a clear scene, clear lines, and only fine indications of forms. Bonnat returned
to the Caravaggesque use of light. The light on Abel is splendid and bright. It
continues to flow over his body into the sandy valley beyond. Some light also falls on
Eve, sculpting her round and soft forms, whereas Abel is all angular and sharper in
the harsh light. Eve’s head is in the shadows. Adam is much more in the dark, since
grief of a man should not be shown. His bronze shoulders merely emerge from the
night and the shadows seem to creep over him, engulf him from the right side so that
he becomes one with the black rocks behind him. Caravaggio would still have painted
Adam’s face in all detail and in some light. Bonnat hides the face. Adam’s
Copyright ©: René Dewil Date: October, 24 2000