← Past

Text v češtině.

When Marie called me in August to ask if I would write a text for her exhibition, and when she then sent me previews of her work, I remembered a few pictures we had exchanged two years earlier. It was probably in connection with a previous conversation that I don’t remember very well. The pictures were from various medieval manuscripts that included illuminations depicting divine wounds in the shape of vaginas. Even without any close connection, it seemed to me that these bizarre depictions in some way illuminated Marie’s new work. Yet this work certainly does not resemble medieval religious gore, nor does it have any genealogical connection to it. The following paragraphs are therefore free of specific data that might obscure any resonances. It is not intended to be a historical interpretation, but an experimental guide to what is exhibited here, taking into account all the similarities as well as the differences.

The gradual development of pious reverence for wounds leads to their increasingly frequent depiction. They begin to appear more abundantly in personal prayer books of smaller formats, which corresponds to the individualization of worship and a degree of personalization of spiritual techniques. Emphasis on the sharing of the experience of suffering of the depicted characters grows stronger over time. Yet the escalating bloodiness of this piety is not self-serving when it is framed as a guide an escalating feeling of belonging, despite the clear horror of bodily orifices releasing fluids from that era. Although the commissioners of such manuscripts are mostly women and their makers mostly men, the gendered customization of the products in question, as one might say today, is by no means straightforward. The crucified and spear-pierced man is recognized as a female figure. His femininity is affirmed by his nail-enforced passivity and being involuntary penetrated. The fluidity of the gender continuum is revealed with the gushing of blood.

In a popular type of representation, numerous instruments of his torment surround the figure of the crucified. These instruments offer a clue to the instrumental conception of the wound depicted, thus offering a means to the possible achievement of salvation. In many depictions, the human body breaks into five parts, corresponding to the five wounds, two on the hands, two on the feet, and one on the side. The fetishistic fragmentation of the body reflects the contemporary interest in clarifying the relationship between the parts and the whole. This seemingly remote problem is concretized in the handling of the relics, as well as in the question concerning the technicalities of the resurrection. Against this backdrop, one can sense the dilemma between the feared separation from the divine and the longed-for unity with it. Meanwhile, the wound on the side continues to stand alone. It separates from the body and its parts until it floats freely in the space of the painting, while its dimensions grow. At the same time, commentaries emphasize that the depiction of this wound corresponds to its actual size as witnessed by various visions, entirely within that era’s obsession with measurements and numbers, which are always considered significant. The shape of the gaping wound is strikingly reminiscent of a mouth when depicted horizontally and a vagina when depicted vertically. The bleeding also evokes the idea of menstruation or childbirth, so that the originally male body is attributed with female fertility. The figure on the crucifix thus takes on not only a feminine but explicitly maternal character. The tear created by the violation of bodily integrity is reinterpreted as the opening through which bodily existence itself is formed. The blood oozing from the wound is sometimes likened to breast milk in the accompanying description. Some illustrations depict figures hungrily sucking blood oozing from the wound. The written statements reveal the belief that an unhealable wound can nourish or even heal. Prayers for the success of childbirth or the healing of the sick are therefore directed to such images. To this end, images are also affixed to afflicted bodies or their respective parts.

However, the actual bodily experience is not a prerequisite for such veneration, which thus allows for gamified reincarnation or becoming someone else. This does not imply any denial of body or matter. Male and female readers of the time talk to and touch the manuscripts. The depictions of wounds or bloody drops bear the marks of scratching with fingernails and, with some degree of probability, may be assumed to have been kissed. Living lips thus touch the painted ones. Such practices of approaching the objects of veneration are particularly attractive to those who, for various reasons, are denied participation in the Eucharist. The veneration of the representations in question thereby constitutes a kind of DIY transubstantiation as a particular material-semiotic operation. Importance is also attached to the material from which the manuscripts are made. Pigment and parchment, according to contemporary interpretations, correspond to blood and flesh. The creation of the manuscript then repeats the performance of the crucifixion, which is additionally replayed at each devotional reading. The intimacy of such interaction supports the gestural nature of reading or viewing. Imitation becomes a means of empathy, while seepage erases the boundaries between bodies and meanings.

The gradual dismemberment of the wounded body, like the isolation and magnification of a wound no longer bound to the human figure, does not continue indefinitely. In later depictions, the wound is replaced by the heart, which corresponds to the sublimation of the respective cult. The blood diminishes and with it the threat of possible contamination, no longer recognizable as sanctification, disappears.

(Based on Mark Amsler, Milena Bartlová, Caroline Walker Bynum, Flory Lewis, Sophie Saxen, Nancy Thebaut and Jean Wirtha)

Text by Vojtěch Märc

Mariana Hradilkova’s voice will be heard in the song Wet Scores.
Sound – Šimon Kukač (Virval Enterteinment).
Thanks to Marta Májová, Šimon Kukač, Kristina Fingerlandová, Mariana Hradilkova, Ondřej Tučka, Michaela Tučková and Kosma.