An image written for prayer

The word icon comes from the Greek eikōn, “image”. Yet an icon is not a religious painting in the usual sense. It does not tell a story or show a landscape; it makes present the one it depicts. It is often called a window onto the invisible.

That is why one speaks of writing an icon rather than painting it: in Greek, the same verb, graphein, means both to write and to paint. The icon is read like a text, in a language of forms and colours that has been handed down for centuries.

An icon is made for prayer. In 787, the Second Council of Nicaea affirmed that the honour given to the image passes to the one it represents.

In an icon there are no cast shadows. Light does not fall from a window; it seems to come from within the figures, the light of a transfigured world.

Perspective is often reversed: lines open toward the viewer instead of meeting in the distance, as if the scene came to meet the one who prays.

Faces follow their own proportions: large eyes that have seen God, a long, fine nose, a small closed mouth that speaks through silence. Every figure is named by an inscription; traditionally, an icon is not complete until its name is written.

The colours of an icon are made from pigments, earths and minerals ground into powder, bound with an emulsion of egg yolk and a little water and wine or vinegar. This is egg tempera, one of the oldest painting techniques.

The paint is applied in many thin, almost transparent layers, from the darkest tone to the lightest. The figure literally comes out of the darkness toward the light. The last touches, the white highlights around the eyes and on the faces, are the moment the icon comes to life.

Once dry, the icon is protected with a varnish, traditionally olifa, a boiled linseed oil, which deepens the colours.

Gold is laid before the colours. The gold leaf, thinner than a sheet of paper, is placed on a layer of bole, a fine red clay, or on an adhesive, then burnished with an agate stone until it shines.

In the icon, gold is not a decoration and it does not describe a sky. It evokes the uncreated light of God, the glory of the heavenly world in which the saints already live. That is why the halos and often the whole ground are gilded.

• The panel. A seasoned wooden board is covered with linen, then with many thin layers of gesso made from chalk and animal glue, each sanded smooth.
• The drawing. The figure is drawn after a traditional model, then the main lines are lightly incised into the gesso.
• The gilding. Gold leaf is laid on the halos and the ground, then burnished.
• The colours. Egg tempera is applied from the darkest tones to the lightest, garments first, faces and hands last.
• The inscription. The name of the saint or the feast is written on the icon.
• The varnish. Once the paint is fully dry, the icon is varnished to protect it.

Between each stage, time is needed: for the layers to dry, and for the icon to mature slowly under the hand.

Every detail of an icon means something. Here are some of the signs you will find in my icons.