Tim Pingelton

And here’s another interesting facet of the visual arts is observing how artists represent characters and events of the past—people and things they never saw and maybe no one saw.  This investigation, the interpretation of art, easily gets deep into discussions on the many theories of art criticism.  But what I’ve been thinking about is how artists apparently viewed historical characters.  Of course, when patronage is involved, the artists was probably driven to make the subject appear glorious and heroic (eg, Napoleon Crossing the Alps, by Jacques-Louis David), but when the artist attempts to capture an historical scene, the characters are naturally given features and expressions formed in the mind of the artist.

What got me thinking about all of this is Peter Paul Rubens’ The Sacrifice of Isaac (c. 1612-1613) at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City.  Isaac is a character in the Old Testament, the son of Abraham and Sarah.  Sarah bore him when she was way past child-bearing age (but, then again, Sarah lived to the age of 127), and they named the boy Isaac, which means “laughter” in Hebrew.  In Genesis 22, God tested Abraham’s faith by asking him to take his only son out on a three-day walk and then offer him as a sacrifice.  Abraham obeyed, tying up Isaac and preparing to slit his throat as was customary in sacrificing sheep.  At the last second, an angel stayed Abraham’s hand, which was clutching a knife, and tells him to sacrifice a nearby ram instead.

Abraham’s faith was rewarded, and father and son returned home.  But how did Isaac feel about all this?  There really isn’t all that much detail about this other than the mention, later in his life, of “the fear of Isaac” (Genesis 31:42 & 53).  The origin of that phrase is lost to history.  Other references portray him as a pretty mellow fellow despite violent episode from which this phrase must have emerged.

Let’s see how a few artists interpreted Isaac’s emotions the second he thought his father was going to kill him.

Rubens paints Isaac with an expression not of fear but of knowing how this would all end.  He almost seems relieved at the appearance of the angel in a “It’s about time!” kind of way. 

Tiziano Vecelli (street name Titian), in Abraham and Isaac (c. 1542–1544) shows a younger Isaac who seems to acquiesce in a “Yes, father.” kind of way.  Also, in this painting, Abraham’s knife is much larger.  I imagine Isaac saw his father toting this huge knife for three days and wondered why.  This Isaac does not seem to know what is planned fate is unlike Rubens’ Isaac.

Caravaggio’s Isaac seems suitably scared and confused in Abraham and the Sacrifice of his Son Isaac (1598).  Here, the angel seems to be standing (not hovering mid-air) and is more humanlike.  I also think Isaac’s features match those of his father more than the previous two examples.  This painting, currently at Princeton, could have been made by one of Caravaggio’s students.  Caravaggio definitely painted this scene circa 1603, and it is at the Uffizi.  In this one, Isaac looks scared witless and might be struggling more than in the other versions.

One last one: Rembrandt’s The Sacrifice of Isaac (1635).  Interestingly, the Dutch master has the aged father completely covering the kid’s face with his weathered hand.  I can’t say that Isaac’s body seems to depict a high level of tension; his legs are posed rather casually.  His back seems a little arched, but that’s probably because his hands are tied behind his back per scripture.

Without encamping in a certain school of art theory, this brief glimpse into how different artists render the super tense moment Isaac’s life is spared from murder by his father is quite interesting.  I could have pulled from many other artists, but I thought I’d stick to the ones we’ve all heard of.