Cosimo Cavallaro, ‘My Sweet Lord’, Chocolate, 72″ X 72″ X 24″
A while back we had a posting about a Jesus sculpture made of chocolate on this forum and the discussion that ensued was quite lively. Today is All Saints day and to commemorate the occasion Cosimo Cavallaro, (the artist behind the controversial Sweet Jesus) decided to build upon the original theme by adding a phalanx of chocolate Saints around a prone Jesus. I went by to look at the exhibit over at the Proposition yesterday. A delicious smell of chocolate pervaded the air in the gallery and if I were blindfolded, I might have guessed that I was in some kind of a Belgian chocolatier’s atelier. The atmosphere was almost church-like and had it not been for the fact that the chocolate Jesus sculpture was nude, this could pass for a religious tableau. The saints themselves were carved very intricately and were housed in little glass cases (the saints were fully clothed).
This show is very different from the first which consisted of a single sculpture of the nude Jesus. That seemed to incite more controversy than any critical dialogue. The setup in this exhibit is a bit more intriguing – eight saints on pedestals that are connected to each other with white nylon cord encircling a nude Jesus supine on an embroidered silken round table.
The nylon rope stumped me – was it meant to signify that the saints were in some kind of a ‘circle of trust’ or was it meant to keep curious onlookers from approaching too close to the prone Jesus…
Cosimo Cavallaro, ‘Saint Jude’, Chocolate, 6″ X 12″ X 6″, ed. 400
Also, I was not sure why Jesus was lying down as opposed to being shown in the crucified pose? Was the weight of controversy of the first so much that he is forced onto his back…? One does not know the answers to these questions, but the exhibit was surely an interesting one.
Of course, Cavallaro is best known for his quirky work with food as art: Efforts in the past include repainting a Manhattan hotel room in melted mozzarella, spraying five tons of pepper jack cheese on a Wyoming home, and laying about 300 pounds of processed ham on a four-poster bed.
I will be interested to know your take on this…
My ultimate thought is, “so what?”
Why in the 21st century are artists still making images of saints and a crucified Jesus? Just for a moment’s humor?
The fact that the figure of Jesus should be on a cross and isn’t makes this look even dumber.
I think Cavallaro’s work is silly and pointless.
Given the fact that the artist has a history in ‘food art’ (however kooky that sounds to me) should we not be a little more considerate as to the message?
It would be great of we could have Cavallaro in this discussion. Let me see if the gallery will oblige if I ask them for contact details such that he could join in…
what the heck is the message?
The nylon rope stumped me – was it meant to signify that the saints were in some kind of a ‘circle of trust’ or was it meant to keep curious onlookers from approaching too close to the prone Jesus?
Sunil, my guess is that the rope was left over from last night. It was probably meant to keep out Trick Or Treaters.
David,
You are a funny one…
Kimberley,
Not too sure what the message might be, but one would not invest so much time and effort of one does not have something credible to say… Just my view. I am still waiting to hear back from the gallery to see how they might weigh in on this topic…
Let’s see…
Sunil:
I tend to agree with winoffice. That said, I am led to ask about the chocolaty factor. Christianity has, in its liturgy, a sacrament in which the body and blood of Christ is symbolically eaten. I myself did so indulge as a youth. I find myself now furthering this artist’s sacriledge as I can’t help wondering how one might consume a chocolate Christ. My experience extends only to the Easter bunny and my tendency to go for the ears first, followed by the tail. Beyond that I nibbled toward the center.
This being an installation in an art gallery, I think that I might consider the aesthetics of my actions. The figure left after the eating, should be all the better for wear. But the figure of Christ, part and parcel, has been imbued with symbolic import. So where to dig in…? Christ’s wounded hands and feet, his haggard head and crown of thorns must be kept as integral to the piece. The same might be said for his sagging knees and the lance in his side. These are all of them visually potent – or usually so. It’s tricky, but I think that a reversal of the Easter Bunny example, with an outward progression from some center point, might be advisable.
Thanks Sunil for following up on C.
Sugary Seussian hat?
“I do not like that hat!”
I liked how C.’s Sweet Jesus was so simple but conceptually rich. This more elaborate installation seems forced and falsely dramatic. Time for C. to destroy the mold.
“Good-bye.”
Jay,
Outward progressions from the centre would be an appropriate response for the fudge like incandescence that has blossomed upstairs. That said, we will need to reconsider this stance that has taken a familiar apotheosis into utter disdain. In as much the author deems that the eater and the eaten be unified into a transmogrified whole, it naturally follows that one needs to appreciate the fullness of the transformation to affect comparisons that lends itself to suitable alterations.
Sunil
D,
As always, you throw light and a clear one at that. On reflection, I think you are right about C’s second venture.
Sunil
Sunil:
What?
Your “fudge-like-incandescence” does remind me of Wolfgang’s first encounter with trick-or-treat. He was allowed to eat candy like it was nineteen ninety nine and then set about in an eloquent fit of sugar shock. Nobody was safe. I wonder how he managed to get to work the next day.
D:
Not to worry. In time it too will be destroyed by mould.
In the installation you show, Jesus is not prone. He is supine.
Alan,
Good point. The symbolism is totally different. In this position, he is offering himself.
Sunil:
That “What?” was about all that I could manage at the time.
But I must admit that I remain baffled. I would be glad to personally assume the mantle of “fudge-like incandescence” if I but knew what it meant.
Joseph Campbell has a lot to say about a more general phenomenon, exemplified, in this case, in the Body Of Christ. Cannibalism, when not practiced from sheer necessity, has tended to have a spiritual dimension wherever practiced. It is often believed that, by consuming another’s body, one is also taking in his or her spirit and virtues. At some point the Christian Church chose to emphasize Christ’s human physicality as a means to better forge a connection between his suffering and that of the parishioner. The Holy Sacrament could have been performed more ethereally perhaps through a greater emphasis on sight or smell, or a holding of some sort. But, instead, an actual ingestion occurs. Perhaps the old adage about the best way to a man’s heart being through his stomach applies here.
In terms of art, might it be possible to assume some of the powers of an artist by ingesting a sample of his or her production?
Shred a Rembrandt and run it through a blender. Serve in a drink. Would a body part suffice? I will be happy to send any of you a sample of my hair to be mixed into your mashed potatoes. This premise will warrant further study if you have an irresistible impulse to run out and buy a table saw.
Kandinsky could ‘hear’ paint. Van Gogh ‘tasted’ paint. Albers ‘saw’ paint.
The central figure in this exhibit heightens all of the above senses… Theobroma cacao has among others healthy doses of alkaloids, theobromine, the neurotransmitter serotonin and the neuromodulator phenylethylamine (a class of amphetamine). The feelings enhanced by ingestion may border on neural incandescence. In addition, one tends to indulge in glossolalia after achieving true states of bliss. It is maybe fitting that the body of Christ was sculpted using cacao. Of course, like Mr. D. says, the rest of it was un-necessary.
Sunil:
In what way did Albers “see” paint. I’m seeing paint as I sit here, but not in the same way, right?
I grew up down the road from Hershey, Pa. Finally an explanation for that glossolalia problem.
Makes one wonder what the chocolate Christ would be like lying directly on the floor. As D. says, no nothing else. Best a bare concrete floor as well. No spotlights but an industrial sized multi-pane window letting in a northern exposure. One person admitted at a time. One might draw a parallel to the idea of placing a national flag on the ground. It is unacceptable in most cultures, but works if one thinks of the flag as representing a base upon which one stands and gains support. It might be burnt as symbolic of light and warmth. Enemies, then, would be eager to hoist it on the highest pole and keep it safe from any flame.
Maybe all artists have synethesia.
I still think this work is nothing more than a waste of chocolate.