The Real Faces of Saints
What did the saints really look like?
Most images of saints today show the lingering style of 19th century technique and sentimentality, which is … not great. They’re disconnected from the reality of these great saints and bathed in a saccharine glow established in perhaps the worst century of Catholic artistic endeavor. From holy cards to statues, Catholics really need to step up our game and starting showing these great men and women either as they were, or in an iconic style conducive to devotion. Anything other than this:
I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know Teresa of Avila, and I believe she would personally kick the &$$ of any artist who depicts her this way. I mean that literally.
When Thomas Merton came across a book with depictions of the saints from life or by people who knew them, he was shocked, as he writes in The Sign of Jonas:
In the library I looked at the marvelous book The Faces of the Saints [The Face of the Saints by Wilhelm Schamoni]— pictures as near as possible genuine portraits—contemporary—of saints. Mosaics of the Fathers were some of the most beautiful. Saint Catherine of Siena, too, and another I have forgotten. More modern ones — some of the death masks frighten me. Saint Vincent de Paul looks very real — very much of a Gascon peasant, and tough as he can be, terrific energy in his face, fiery black eyes, and a mouth like a bear trap.
The one that most astonished me was Saint Francis de Sales — ponderous and unlike anything I would have imagined. One that most impressed me — Saint Benedict Joseph Labre.
One that scared me least — John Bosco. Also Saint Catherine of Genoa looked nice and normal for a mystic, and Louise de Marillac was a French housewife in her picture. Saint Mary Magdalen de Pazzi looked a little like my mother. Saint Aloysius Gonzaga was almost too beautiful.
Saint Teresa was funny — a plump little Spanish lady, like an innkeeper’s wife in that picture, with all due respect, but I love her. Saint John of the Cross I knew; looks surprisingly un-ascetic. The saint’s face that to me is most completely the face of a saint is the child’s face of Saint Francis of Assisi with big astonished eyes looking out from that over-ample hood — the thirteenth-century portrait.
Some saints I had never heard of I wanted to love as soon as I saw their pictures, like St. Catherine of Ricci. All of them had faces that had suffered: some more, some less, some very intensely.
I went looking for and found the original book, published in English in 1947, because I was interested in how the portraits tallied with Merton’s description. What did the saints really look like in life, rather than on holy cards? Here are the portraits Merton saw, along with his observations on each.
“Saint Vincent de Paul looks very real — very much of a Gascon peasant, and tough as he can be, terrific energy in his face, fiery black eyes, and a mouth like a bear trap.”
And his tomb effigy:
“The one that most astonished me was Saint Francis de Sales — ponderous and unlike anything I would have imagined.”
“One that most impressed me — Saint Benedict Joseph Labre.”
His tomb effigy.
“One that scared me least — John Bosco.”
His tomb effigy and relics.
“Saint Catherine of Genoa looked nice and normal for a mystic.”
Compare that to a recent forensic facial reconstruction of St. Catherine done from her remains.
“Louise de Marillac was a French housewife in her picture.”
And her tomb: wax effigy over relics.
“Saint Mary Magdalen de Pazzi looked a little like my mother.”
And shown in her coffin:
“Saint Aloysius Gonzaga was almost too beautiful.”
“Saint Teresa was funny — a plump little Spanish lady, like an innkeeper’s wife in that picture, with all due respect, but I love her.”
Forensic reconstruction of Teresa.
“Saint John of the Cross I knew; looks surprisingly un-ascetic.”
“The saint’s face that to me is most completely the face of a saint is the child’s face of Saint Francis of Assisi with big astonished eyes looking out from that over-ample hood — the thirteenth-century portrait.”
“Some saints I had never heard of I wanted to love as soon as I saw their pictures, like St. Catherine of Ricci.”
Her remains:
Of course, we’re entering an entirely new stage of holy art with saints whose modern photos risk a banality which could be an obstacle to deeper devotion. Carlo Acutis looks relatable in his modern clothes, but depictions of him almost demand a return to an earlier, more iconic style in order to capture the essence of his sanctity. If this exercise proves nothings else, it shows a failure in devotional art of the 19th and 20th centuries, which captures neither the reality of the living saints, nor the transcendence which makes them saints.
I love the portrait of Teresa of Avila. I've actually seen the one of St Francis in person, it's at the Benedictine monastery of Subiaco. It was so very striking and I fell in love with it.
The difference between Don Bosco and earlier saints is that we actually have some photos of him
.