Massive, skillful, awe-inspiring. Carl Bloch’s alter pieces are indeed impressive. I love these depictions of Christ’s life, but none of them speak to me in a way beyond what most Christians would feel while viewing a painting of their savior. Their largeness overwhelms me, so I head to the room of Bloch’s smaller pieces.
Wander. Observe. Speculate. Stroll. Admire. Glance. Glance again. Stop. Wow. I really love this one. The caption on the side reads “Charwoman Feeding the Birds” with “Oil on Panel” and a brief description underneath. I plant myself firmly in front of the painting and take a closer look. The snow-covered ground, the lightest part of the panel, draws my eye first. It is peppered by hungry sparrows pecking at breadcrumbs. Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?
I follow the trail of dropping crumbs to the hand of the giver and upward. The line of the elderly woman’s arm and the line of her cane form a triangle pointing toward the woman’s face. Though shadowed by her black cloak, the woman’s radiant countenance is the most powerful part of the painting. How can an artist, using only brushes and paint, depict such selfless love, such humble compassion? Her withered face is curved into a slight smile as she shares what she apparently has very little of already. And there came a certain poor widow and she threw in two mites…
In painting this, Bloch demonstrated his appreciation for the poor and forgotten who give, even when they have nothing. In viewing it, I gain a deeper admiration for them. I believe this was his purpose – to remind us of the good that such people do, to tell us that we, too, can spread the light of Christ, even if all we have is half a loaf of bread. The background of the piece is grey and bare; the woman’s clothing is faded and plain. The subdued colors of the painting only add to its impact. There is nothing to distract or confuse you. The focus of the piece is the woman and her action (her face, her hand, and the sparrows are the specific focal points). It wasn’t done in a grand palace or crowded marketplace, but in a street corner. It wasn’t done by a princess but by a pauper. The scale of the painting matches the scale of the action: small yet important. By small and simple things are great things brought to pass.
The elderly woman in the painting reminds me of a woman I know. We call her Tweety Bird Grandma because she has the sweetest, high voice and calls everyone “dearie.” She is in her 80’s (and can barely walk), yet she spends most of her time taking care of the elderly women in her apartment complex, most of whom are younger than herself. She is ever giving, ever loving. No act of kindness is too insignificant for her to go out of her way to perform it. Every person is to her what each sparrow is to the charwoman. If the woman in the painting found it worthwhile to share her small possessions with some of God’s smallest creations, how can I, who have so much, not do the same? Such a seemingly unimportant act was not unimportant to Carl Bloch, nor is it unimportant to our savior. No person, no creature, no good deed is forgotten by him, for “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”
