Friday, November 20, 2020

“From My Walls To Yours”

Copyright © Edward Riojas

The walls of my house simply can’t handle any more artwork. Neither can the closets, with artwork stacked sometimes ten deep with blankets to protect them, nor can my art rooms, with artwork peeking from behind other artwork like Russian nesting dolls. I needn’t mention the five cases filled with newspaper illustrations from another life, and I don’t need to bring to mind countless other images that have been all but forgotten. Every nook and cranny of my house is filled with artwork, and I need to declutter -- if that word even applies.

Most everyone knows that I sell giclĂ©e prints of original pieces, but not everyone knows that many of the originals themselves are for sale. I do realize that there is an inherent sticker shock associated with original artwork, but keep in mind that weeks and months of work went into each piece and as I’ve been told many times, “The workman is due his wages.” Whether or not you can afford a Riojas original, here’s your chance to peruse pieces that are languishing on my walls. Perhaps one of them will beg to be on your wall...

“Gospel Processional Crucifix” Approximately 81” tall, with base. $15,000. This non-commissioned piece was the focus of an earlier blog post. The black walnut staff springs from its VDMA base, and the bronze corpus [of my own design] hangs on a black walnut cross, which is supported by an image of the Church and the four Gospel writers.



“Saint Michael Contending [With the Devil Over the Body of Moses]” 28.8” x 40.5” Framed. $10,000. This piece was recently returned to me after a long stay at the Fort Wayne seminary. It’s weird and wonderful and packed with theology. And it’s for sale.


“Archangel Gabriel” 18” x 28” Framed. $3,000. This piece was also returned from Fort Wayne. In case you can’t see from the online photo, the piece is composed entirely of miniscule dots. I created “stippled” illustrations ages ago, but carpal tunnel syndrome is indeed a thing and I thought it wise to back off of the physically-demanding technique, saving it for very special pieces like this one.


“Archangel Michael” 34” x 49” Framed. $5,000. This piece is an old friend, and is a visual reminder of those who do the will of God perfectly, while protecting us from the evils of this broken world.


“Ambrei as Potamiaena” 48” x 84” Unframed. While depicting a martyred saint from the early Church, I can also see this hanging in an entry foyer or some other calm, but dignified space. This pleasant piece currently commands the "Pirate Room" in my house. See what I mean about clutter?


“Precious in the Sight of the Lord” 31” x 37” Framed. $5,000. Unlike ‘Potamiaena,’ this is the sort of image that takes some getting used to. While comforting, the image is somewhat better suited to sympathy cards instead of residential walls. That being said, it confesses mightily, whether in the home or on the wall of a Christian institution.


“O That My Words Were Written” 37” x 70” Framed. $10,000. The words of Holy Scripture are enough, and are sometimes sufficient as a painting. Although he was arguably the most pitiable of men by the world’s standards, the comforting words of Job point to a greater reality that, by Faith, was already Job’s – and it is ours, as well.


“Two Men Went Up To Pray” 24” x 48” Unframed. $5,000. This is one of several pieces which I was simply compelled to paint. The focus of the painting is neither the proud pharisee in the center of the piece, nor the cowering publican in the shadows. Rather, the point of the piece is a shrouded Figure ascending the stairs, Whose outstretched, pierced hand, touches the shoulder of the penitent.


“Under Slottet Bron” 156” x 96” Framed. $20,000. Not every piece I create is considered “sacred.” I occasionally make things that are intended for the simple enjoyment of the viewer. Those pieces are, however, handled with the same high standards which are expected of any God-given vocation. This piece is so large that its carved frame has been disassembled and is in various locations of my home [and barn]. The unframed painting itself hogs one entire 11-foot wall of our living room. To be frank, I would love to see this in a beer hall or in a Scandinavian environment or, as some have suggested, as a rather large headboard.

If you are interested in any of these pieces, OR any of the prints that I offer, please email me at edriojasartist@gmail.com



Friday, November 6, 2020

“The Chancel: A Foretaste”

A proposed chancel


Copyright © Edward Riojas

It is perhaps fitting that this, the second of several related posts, follows on the heal of All Saints Day. But more on that later.

These drawings are of a hypothetical church building. They are not necessarily how a church should look, but rather are meant for the contemplation of any church and the purposes for which that church exists. This week’s installment takes a look at the chancel.

At first glance, the designs may look familiar, and I wouldn’t doubt that a similar structure can be found somewhere in Christendom. Its general shape is a quadrant of a sphere. This gives a nod to an interpretation of  Biblical description of heaven as being of equal width, length, and height. Usually this is taken to be a cube, but a sphere could assume the same dimensions, and the sphere – or orb – has always been symbolically associated with the fullness of heaven and the created cosmos.

The meaning behind the design, therefore, is to show that heaven descends here to us. Specifically, this happens in the Lord’s Supper. The idea of descending is further underscored by a figure of the living Christ, in front of an empty cross, and suspended by cables that converge downward toward the altar. The altar itself is in the center of the assumed sphere.

On the wall of the dome-like chancel is a fresco of ranks of angels in adoration. The dome, being devoid of anything besides its two-dimensional fresco, would act as an acoustic amplifier.

Altar with tiled design


Obvious omissions are pulpit, lectern, and chairs for clergy and acolytes. This follows an older design of moving the pulpit out into the sanctuary, but it also points to a greater reality: This is where Christ comes to us; this is where His real presence is manifest; this is where He IS. No one presides over the altar, nor do they serve there, but Christ alone comes down to us and serves us. This is the Divine Service.

Seats for clergy and acolytes, simple plinth-like structures just outside of the chancel proper and at the base of the arch, would accommodate seating when necessary. On one side, a simple, bisecting screen would create a confessional space.

A circular Communion rail and raised platform would fit within this sphere quadrant. There would be no carpeting, giving more punch to the acoustics. As if issuing from the altar, a path of blue inlaid tile, edged by red tile, would run the entire length of the sanctuary and into the baptistry opposite the chancel.  The patterning would suggest a flood of water and blood, connecting the sacraments of Holy Communion and Holy Baptism with the crucifixion of Christ Jesus. But there is more.

Transparent memorial blocks


The Communion rail would be in the round, but only half would be used by congregants. A gated railing would bisect the platform. The “gates” would be intentionally narrow, and would be embellished with Alpha-Omega and Chi-Rho, pointing to Christ as the only gate into heaven.

What lies beyond the gate are those whom we cannot see, but who share in the Lord’s Supper and the foretaste of the feast to come. The floor of that side of the circle would be a memorial to those who have gone before us. Names would be inscribed on transparent acrylic blocks. They would be stacked, layer upon layer, so that they could be read into near infinity. This acrylic assembly would be illuminated from below, giving light not only to those in glory, but also to the entire angelic dome. 

The words, “...together with angels, and archangels, and the whole company of heaven” would make much more sense in this sort of chancel, and we would be compelled to confess it – not just verbally, but visually, as Christ descends to His helpless children and feeds them with His own body and blood.