Bettina Rheims photographs the carnality of the divine
The figure and the message of Christ sink roots in two millennia of human history, and they have marked, for better or for worse, the social and political evolution, at least in Europe and in the American Continent, with an indirect repercussion on the rest of the world as well. A message that Bettina Rheims (Neuilly-sur-Seine, 1952) reinterprets in a strong carnal tone, meaning that her figures of Christ and the Virgin leave the hieratic and mystique aura to become individuals of contemporary society, bearing within aspirations and problems. The photographs of Rheims do not constitute a religious exhibit, they are actually a reflection of the philosophical tones that, in her civil accent, succeeds in making the figure of Christ a metaphor of contemporary men.



An exhibition which, incidentally, after the tragic events of Paris, highlights that political character that claims those values created to flank men, values capable of redefining themselves over the centuries, accepting the challenges and changes of society and moving towards them, leaving aside the fanatical violence to concentrate on daily demands. Demonstrated with verses from the Vangelo, from the Bible, or with quotes by Christian writers, including St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, Odo of Cluny, and the Spanish poet Gómez Manrique, which accompany the works exposed but don’t communicate so much of a literal adherence to the symbol, but more so substance: Bettina Rheims depicts a Christ profoundly man, with his dreams, his illusions, his fears and disappointments, heterosexual and homosexual concurrently, present everywhere and to everyone, not imposing but proposing himself. The exhibition, however, has a strong feminine edge, with the figure of the Virgin assuming particular importance; it was her, in fact, that generated Christ, and for that has been raised to the symbol of a regenerated humanity, which Rheims portrays in a double-figure: that is, two young women who proudly display the pregnant womb, dressed in clothes vaguely gypsy, and surrounded by flowers. The Virgins portrayed by Rheims have the same carnality, and convey also from the lesson of Botticelli, granted the concept of women. With the same appeal that Helmut Newton used in a famous advertising campaign for Vogue in 1986, Rheims sweeps away the hypocritical modesty and places before everyone’s eyes a woman “liberated”, no longer bound to the archaic myth of virginity before marriage. Through elaborate photographs of theatrical taste, with shining colors, Rheims proposes an idea of a Christianity open and rigorous at the same time, implying coherence and responsibility as a role of men, and most of all of Christ himself, descended onto Earth with humility and tolerance. Character traits that Western society seems to have lost in time and that art may have the task to put back on track.





