Books, Arts & Manners

In the course of covering the New York art scene, I recently met a man who believes that Peter Paul Rubens was the Son of God. According to this man, a successful television psychic, Jesus Christ returned to earth anno Domini 1577 and chose the body of the new-born Rubens as His earthly tenement. An incident of this magnitude ought to have provoked comment at the time, and it would have done so, the psychic contends, but for a massive cover-up on the part of the Church hierarchy. It would be tedious to describe how he arrived at this startling conclusion. Let it suffice to say that, initially impressed by the similarity between Rubens’s self-portraits and his depictions of Christ, the psychic is confident that both will start oozing blood before the year is out.

Like much of art criticism these days, this theory suffers from an almost irrepressible credulity. Now, by his own admission, the gentleman in question is not interested in art and knows nothing about it. But there is no reason to suppose that his ratiocinative skills fall noticeably below those of many of our professed art cognoscenti, or that his opinions are substantially sillier than much of what one reads (or does not read) in the major art journals of our day. Ultimately, what brings him into conformity with contemporary art criticism is the peculiar nature of his methodology, which amounts to an unusually vigorous will to believe. This will to believe precedes the belief itself, as the belief precedes the proof. As if through hypnotic suggestion, the conviction is implanted in the brain, and the justification follows quickly and effortlessly.

JG

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James Gardner

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In the course of covering the New York art scene, I recently met a man who believes that Peter Paul Rubens was the Son of God. According to this man, a successful television psychic, Jesus Christ returned to earth anno Domini 1577 and chose the body of the new-born Rubens as His earthly tenement. An incident of this magnitude ought to have provoked comment at the time, and it would have done so, the psychic contends, but for a massive cover-up on the part of the Church hierarchy. It would be tedious to describe how he arrived at this startling conclusion. Let it suffice to say that, initially impressed by the similarity between Rubens’s self-portraits and his depictions of Christ, the psychic is confident that both will start oozing blood before the year is out.

Like much of art criticism these days, this theory suffers from an almost irrepressible credulity. Now, by his own admission, the gentleman in question is not interested in art and knows nothing about it. But there is no reason to suppose that his ratiocinative skills fall noticeably below those of many of our professed art cognoscenti, or that his opinions are substantially sillier than much of what one reads (or does not read) in the major art journals of our day. Ultimately, what brings him into conformity with contemporary art criticism is the peculiar nature of his methodology, which amounts to an unusually vigorous will to believe. This will to believe precedes the belief itself, as the belief precedes the proof. As if through hypnotic suggestion, the conviction is implanted in the brain, and the justification follows quickly and effortlessly.