Iconography in Art: The Halo

Iconography in Art: The Halo The halo is a much older religious icon than many people realize, dating back at least as far as the Ancient Egyptians (Lope, 2002). Halos are also readily apparent in many Buddhist and Hindu works of art, and has also been a staple of Christian iconography since the religion itself began (Lope, 2002).

This widespread and remarkably disparate yet similar use is strong evidence that the halo -- also known as a nimbus or areole -- is one of the most ancient and universal object of iconography in the world. A halo can be nothing more than a circle around an object or person, often around the head, but the simplicity of the symbol contains its profoundness. Halos are typically used as symbols of sanctity, enlightenment, and even divinity (Lope, 2002).

The symbol was very likely derived from the Sun -- a glowing circle or disc -- and also symbolized "power, majesty, and prominence," especially in the pre-Christian era (Lope, 2002). The halo is a prominent part of the depiction of several Egyptian gods, and cults that worshipped a similar bull figure to one of the incarnations of the sun god Ra (who wears a halo between his horns) were known to exists as far back as 3000 BCE (Lope, 2002).

Romans used halos in their depictions of certain hers and statesmen as a way to glorify them. This practice continued with other important personages until Pope Urban III banned the use of halos in an image of anyone who wasn't beatified; before then, many intellectuals were also depicted with halos, denoting either divine inspiration or the brilliance of their minds -- or both. In Christian art.

Which is how the iconography of the halo is most recognized in the Western world today, the halo has come to symbolize the light of God, and is a definitive association with divinity. This important religious identity has led to some controversial modern uses of the halo. One such use, not so controversial now but a daring use of the icon in its time, is found in Gauguin's Self-Portrait with Halo.

In this post-impressionist oil on wood creation from 1889, many different religious icons collide with a large and somewhat surreal rendering of the artist's own head. It is difficult to discern an overlying theme in the piece.

Though there are several phallic representations, and the sexual imagery of the hanging apples -- bringing to mind the Garden of Eden and Original Sin at the hands of Eve -- against the red background definitely add a tone of eroticism to the painting, neither the self-portrait nor the halo seem at all engaged with the other elements. Overall, confusion of both imagery and intent reigns. Like the other images in the painting, the halo's direct purpose and meaning here is difficult to discern.

Given the apparent disinterest in the artist's s representation of himself regarding the temptations of the Garden, the halo could be meant to symbolize some sort of religious piety -- or at least purity -- that the artist sees in himself. Given some other details of the painting's construction, however, and specifically of the halo, this interpretation could be seen in an ironic light. Most of the painting's colors are quit vibrant, with red and yellow dominating.

There are several instances in the painting where certain objects seem to blend in with or fade into the background. The halo is one such object; in both color and size it is one of the least assuming objects in the painting, and almost no attention would be focused on it if not for its mention in the title. Gauguin could be ironically commenting on his attitude towards religion, hedonism, or just basic lust, but the near transparency of the halo makes it hard to accept as sincere.

The nearly complete use of space Gauguin employs in this painting has a nearly claustrophobic effect; even the fields of red and yellow that dominate, respectively, the upper and lower halves of the painting are textured enough to appear fully substantial rather than merely background. In addition, the painting is broken up by so many images that it is hard to take it all in at once, adding to the feeling of closeness that almost presses on the viewer's eyes.

Gauguin does not employ any lines at all in the painting, instead seeming to have gone to certain lengths to ensure that every part of every object rendered in the painting is curved, complete with the drooping, phallus-like flowers. Just as there has been an abandonment of line, Gauguin has also done away with any attempt at perspective, instead simply rendering the images as they appear in his mind.