The end of heroes
Even though I’m still an atheist, I’ve come back to religion, in the sense that I think it’s very important. I’m very interested in the aesthetic of it, and the stories and meaning behind it. I realize now that I’m very steeped in it. It has affected all of my art.
These are the words of Louise Giovanelli, a young, up-and-coming British painter, featured in a recent New York Times article. Raised in a church-going Irish and Italian Catholic family, Giovanelli says she abandoned her faith as an early teenager. When still required to worship with her family, Giovanelli asserted her disbelief by carrying with her into church a copy of The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins.
One of the most common subjects of Giovanelli’s paintings are movie and music stars. Her style, however, is influenced by the paintings of the Renaissance. So, too, is her subject matter. While Renaissance painters typically depicted saints and biblical characters, Giovanelli says her subjects are modern day icons.
What I’m trying to do is draw connections between the ancient and the contemporary…. I’m trying to show the viewer: You still need this type of worship. You don’t realize that you do, but these are the contemporary churches. Instagram and TikTok are a new type of shrine.
The pop stars and new icons in my paintings are the same as looking at icons in a church. I think this is why people like my work: I’ve tapped into that need, the same longing that humans have always had and will always have for the higher being, the perfect being, idol worship and light and glitz and glamour.
I think Giovanelli is on to something. First, we should remember that Renaissance painters were not interested in historical accuracy. Typically, their subjects were portrayed in contemporary Italian scenery and dress, rather than ancient biblical ones. Their characters were also attractive. The portrayal of a female figure (like Mary) could be a beautiful member of the artist’s community, or the wife (or mistress) of his patron. And millions still flock to ogle the amazing (and naked) physique of Michelangelo’s monumental sculpture in Florence of the young David preparing to slay Goliath.
For well over a century, fascination, and sometimes obsession, with secular celebrities of all types has been a hallmark of modern culture. While heroes have been celebrated throughout history, hero “worship” is a recent phenomenon.
Ancient heroes (often mythological) got their status through dramatic acts of courage and sacrifice. Modern heroes, however, usually have no such accomplishments. Instead, they are public figures of exceptional beauty or talent. Actors, musicians, and sports stars make of the vast majority. Recently lifestyle influencers have joined their ranks, usually because of their wealth or their ability to master the intricacies and mysteries of social media. They’re famous for being famous.
It’s no coincidence that celebrities began stealing our attention at the same time that religion was heading into a steep decline. This is what Giovanelli has picked up on. As she says above, “I’m trying to show the viewer: You still need this type of worship.” We have a “longing … for the higher … perfect being.”
Giovanelli here does not delve into why this is so, but perhaps it is obvious. Unlike animals guided primarily by instinct, we need some kind of outside direction for how we should live. Family and community are usually the primary sources of guidance but often this is not enough, or even a hindrance if it is too oppressive. The tales of heroes lift our sights, give us a higher calling to do and be something greater than we would otherwise imagine.
In the Christian era, saints served this function. As religion faded, political and military heroes became the first modern icons of inspiration but this was short lived. Democracy’s stars were too human and their accomplishments too mundane to generate the aura people wanted. Most, like politicians or generals, just faded away. Others rose high but then crashed and burned, like a Napoleon or Hitler. In general, the modern era’s unending cycle of warfare and economic upheaval make political leaders poor candidates for icon status.
Yet today’s pop icons, too, are strange successors in this ancient lineage. I still remember being shocked the first time I heard teenagers being asked about their aspirations and the most common answer was “to be famous.” Not famous for anything in particular—just being famous.
Celebrityhood, like ancient sainthood, has become a quality of its own. If we can’t be famous ourselves, we can attach ourselves to those who are and somehow share in their status. We can dress like them, follow the minutiae of their lives, see them in person, get their autograph, or even better get a selfie with them. Anything to somehow touch their glory.
Of course, celebrities can also crash and burn, sometimes quite spectacularly. Others just slowly disappear. In any case, few maintain their status for more than a generation or two (try to find a Rudolph Valentino or Greta Garbo fan club today). Fans mourn their loss but then move on to new celebrities or somehow enshrine their memory to keep them symbolically alive (Elvis!)
The saints and mythic heroes of the ancient world embodied culture’s deepest values. Do celebrities do that for us? If so, then it would seem our values are not very deep. One of the early TV shows to celebrate celebrities got its title just right: “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.” It was not their actual lives that mattered. It was the glitz and glamour of how they lived that attracted viewers’ attention and adulation.
Today’s cultural icons all have, like the book of Daniel’s vision of a great statue, feet of clay. They don’t, and can’t, live up to people’s expectations of them. Often, they are more anti-hero than hero, rebelling against social norms but without any clear purpose. And so, we shuffle through them with amazing rapidity. Everyone, it seems, gets their fifteen minutes of fame.
What all of this points to is that the time of saints and heroes is past. The icons of the ancient and medieval worlds, whatever their value, were nonetheless always imaginary. No one actually knew them. That worked in the small worlds in which most people then lived. But with modern travel and communication, our worlds have exploded. We can be anywhere and see everything. We know too much for any icon to survive for long.
And that’s okay because we really don’t need them. Today we are finally hearing an ancient teaching which at the time mostly fell on deaf ears. And that is, that we already have within us the wisdom and goodness we need to live our lives to the fullest. We don’t need to emulate someone else but learn to listen to and trust the voice inside us. This is our true self, found only in our inner silence. This is in contrast with the self constructed out of cultural expectations, which is in near constant turmoil and is the source of the cacophony of voices in our heads.
This is what Jesus means, in harmony with this tradition, when he says, “The kingdom of God is within you.” It is why he repeatedly tells people, “Your faith has saved you.” It is what Paul means when he says he has discovered that, “It is no longer I (the ego) who live but Christ (the divine) who lives within me.” We don’t need icons to imitate or oracles to obey. We need only to believe what it says in the very first chapter of the Bible, that we have all been created good, and that our life is, in fact, the eternal divine spirit within us.
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