The early years of his life gave no hint of the path his life’s journey would take: a winding path, with ups and downs, some of them quite unexpected. Upon arriving in Wallachia, he was entrusted with many demanding and responsibility-laden tasks, which he carried out ‘as unto the Lord’, devoting himself and distinguishing himself particularly in the work of printing books, these ‘travelling medicines’, intended to heal the souls of many Christians, both in our lands and in those occupied by pagans. The culmination of his work was the realisation of a magnificent foundation, somewhere in the centre of Bucharest, one that has remained in the memory of the inhabitants as bearing his name.
Much has been written about this marvellous foundation, and much more will be written; its architectural features and stylistic stature closely link it to the princely and aristocratic foundations of the time, making it a monument impossible to overlook. On the other hand, it was neither the first nor the last foundation of a metropolitan. However, this particular foundation bears not only the hallmark of Brâncoveanu-style art, but also that of its founder, Metropolitan Antim, who was particularly involved in defining and shaping the monastery’s aesthetic profile – an aspect which will be outlined in this study.
There is a wealth of evidence and opinions which suggest or even assert that this church – surprisingly large for a metropolitan foundation and particularly spacious – both in terms of its floor plan and architectural execution – was modelled on the design provided by Metropolitan Antim himself, who not only contributed funds towards the construction of the holy place, but also took charge of “with the design of the plan, closely supervising—with the discernment of a man of taste—the exterior and interior decoration of the church that was to bear his name”1.
The hierarch’s involvement in shaping a specific architectural style for his foundation is also supported by the depiction of the church on Page 6 of the Deed of Foundation dated 24 April 1713. Although it is claimed that it depicts Antim Monastery 2, in reality, only the church is drawn here – in a representation also reproduced in the Charter of 20 July 1715 – a fact which constitutes a strong argument in favour of those who believe that Saint Antim was the one who drew up, ‘with his own hand, the construction plans for the entire monastic complex’3 Other historians, however, are somewhat more cautious in attributing direct involvement in the church’s aesthetic design to the hierarch, emphasising only its construction, ‘at the expense and under the supervision of Metropolitan Antim Ivireanu…’4.
Regardless of whether this is how events unfolded, it is interesting to note that the founder himself drew the plans for the church he wished to see built on that site. Its dual depiction—once on the document issued prior to the construction of the monastic complex and, a second time, on the one produced after its completion—may serve to emphasise Saint Antim’s desire to highlight a specific architectural model which hehad clearly envisioned from the very outset—a concept that is easily associated with the entirely unique circumstances surrounding the erection of the tabernacle in the Old Testament.
Metropolitan Antim is not only the founder of one of the capital’s most beautiful monasteries, but also one of ‘the most interesting figures in Romanian religious art’, as well as an ‘unrivalled calligrapher, whose manuscripts are a source of admiration for us. In addition to this talent, he possessed that of a woodcut artist and draughtsman…”
From studying how these works were carried out, it is evident that everything pertaining to the Tabernacle – its very structure, the sacred vessels, the garments and so on – was to be made strictly according to the pattern that Moses had seen. Before revealing it to him, God instructed Moses to adhere to this model: ‘You shall make the Tabernacle and all its vessels and furnishings according to the pattern that I shall show you (author’s note); so shall you make them!’ (Ex. 25:9), and finally, He instructs Moses to follow the pattern he had seen on Mount Sinai exactly: ‘See that you make all these things according to the pattern shown to you on the mountain’ (Ex. 25:40), and this not just once, but twice: ‘And so you shall set up the tabernacle according to the pattern shown to you (author’s note) on this mountain’ (Ex. 26:30). And after telling Moses that even the craftsmen who were to make all the necessary items had been chosen, God once again reminded Moses that they were to do all this ‘just as I have commanded you’ (Ex. 31:11). In the same way, Saint Antim also emphasised the beginning and end of his foundation, its intention and realisation, by depicting the church on the two documents that officially framed the act of foundation: the Charter and the Decree.
Whilst, as regards the design of the church, the two miniatures created by the founding metropolitan himself convince us of his direct involvement in the architectural style, as regards the other marvellous features of Antim Monastery, the question might naturally arise as to whether the founder was also directly involved in their creation. In an article published in Revista Română, Alexandru Odobescu stated that ‘an enlightened and industrious artist, Antim has left many traces of his talents and work throughout the country. At Antim’s monastery, which he built himself, it is said that the church’s entrance doors, skilfully carved from wood, were crafted by him”5. This idea found a fair number of supporters, with some asserting that “the carvings on the columns and, above all, the admirable frame of the entrance door were executed according to designs provided by Antim” 6, whilst others recall the tradition which “attests to the fact that the two wings of the church were entirely carved by his own hand”7.
Even the renowned architect Grigore Ionescu, despite his reservations regarding the founder’s architectural skills, could not help but note that, amongst the surviving elements, ‘artistically remarkable are the two oak door leaves of the main entrance, adorned with meticulous carvings which tradition attributes to the masterful hand of Metropolitan Antim himself; the stone frames adorned with beautiful carvings around the windows’8”.
Thus, Metropolitan Antim is not only the founder of one of the capital’s most beautiful monasteries, but also one of “the most interesting figures in Romanian religious art”9, as well as an “unrivalled calligrapher, whose manuscripts are a source of admiration for us. In addition to this talent, he possessed that of a woodcut artist and draughtsman…’10 and was recognised as an ‘enlightened man gifted with an aptitude for understanding the Fine Arts’11 Since Saint Antim has left behind numerous testimonies to his artistic qualities, which manifested themselves in various fields, these have thus justified such praise, through which his merits were recognised—merits that flowed from one to another, much like a string of pearls adorning the neck of the art of his time: ‘musician, writer, orator, painter, printer, sculptor, engraver, and more besides, having come to Wallachia from Persia, from where he brought Arabic and Persian artistic influences. Drawing inspiration from ancient Georgian art and studying Romanian Byzantine art, he succeeded in fusing the two artistic traditions, creating a distinctive style of ornamentation that became famous’9”.
With regard to an epitaph at Olari Church, dated 7226 (1717–18) and bearing the signature of Kir Mitrofan, Nicolae Iorga considered that, given that Mitrofan was Antim’s successor, “it is certainly the case that this great master of ecclesiastical art designed the antimens”12. Drawing on his artistic expertise, the great historian went a step further, positing that Metropolitan Antim was also a painter, which is why he also attributed to him the painting of the chapel in Râmnic 13 – a hypothesis which, however, can only be supported by a ‘pious tradition preserved by the monks’. Whilst that painting cannot be attributed to the great metropolitan, except with very great reservations, the works that have survived to this day, on the other hand, ‘reveal the great artistic talent of the worthy hierarch, manifested in unrivalled miniatures, drawings and sculptures’14.
For example, a manuscript presented in 1709 to Voivode Constantin Brâncoveanu, containing the genealogy of Jesus Christ together with 515 figures rendered in medallions, provides clear evidence of Saint Antim’s mastery, as well as the fact that he was familiar with and passionate about the craft of painting, “compiling guidelines and models of saints’ faces for painters”15 This could constitute a strong argument in favour of the view that Saint Antim was not content merely to select and apply certain models, but also intervened directly by carrying them out in practice.
One of his great admirers, Olga Greceanu, who was directly involved in the decoration of the church at Antim Monastery by creating two large mosaics on either side of the portal, noted that, with Antim and Mihail Cantacuzino, the works became exuberant in their detail, as can be seen in the loggias of the Brâncoveanu palaces and in the decoration of the furniture: “everywhere one finds splendour, luxury, wealth, pomp, brilliance, sumptuousness and luminosity. In the broad and solemn arabesques we find the acanthus (at the church of Antim Monastery), ample and majestic, in every possible combination…’, yet ‘always displaying a refined elegance and great expressiveness’16
Under the influence of Metropolitan Antim, Georgian swirls began to appear and multiply—arabesques that lack the regularity of those ancient ‘rinceaux’, but which form varied curves and oarlocks, expand, forming rich and diverse patterns, motifs born of an imagination brimming with fantasy. This decorative principle did not preclude a methodical arrangement of the composition, generally based on a principle of symmetry: the axis generating, to the left and right, the delicate swirls, terminated in the heads of angels, animals, chimeras, birds, flowers – a feature found on all the marvellous portals of the churches in16, particularly those of the hierarch and the grand spathar, mentioned above.
In the small but fairly comprehensive Historical and Artistic Guide, Grigore Ionescu noted that, at the church of Antim Monastery, ‘artistically remarkable features include: the stone frame carved with floral motifs surrounding the door and the inscription – written in Greek verse’17. It is entirely possible that this stone carving was also executed by the founder himself or, if not, was at least the result of his close involvement. One argument in support of this hypothesis could be the fact that, in the case of the manuscript ‘The Figures of the Old and New Testaments’, the folio containing the dedication to the ruler of the country is considered to be ‘a model of page layout: a marginal border adorned with a floral ornament, which is also repeated around the central medallion at the top of the folio…’18 Now, if Saint Antim was capable of creating something like this – that is, something which, from a compositional and aesthetic point of view, evokes the architectural framing found at the entrance to Orthodox churches – it is possible that he also designed the portal of his own church, one that breaks the mould of its time through the boldness and lightness of elements characteristic of a distinctive artistic vocabulary and, above all, their complex syntax.
Furthermore, it has been noted that in the sculptures created by Metropolitan Antim, ‘his snail’ can be seen at every turn, including on the ironwork of the latch on the main door of the church at 19, a fact which leads us to believe that ‘the snail was a sort of emblem for Antim, the meaning of which is explained by his life’20. Thus, we might consider that the snail could be, in a certain sense, his implicit self-portrait, just as the portraits of the craftsmen of Hurezi appear explicitly, in plain view on the porch, or those of Pârvu Mutu, which are more discreet but no less clear. Or, if not a self-portrait, then at least his signature.
As an explanation for this choice, in the ‘Settlement’ of 24 April 1713—considered to be Metropolitan Antim’s Will—the 32 clauses, drafted with such care, are preceded by the following verses:
‘Let every living thing, says the prophet,
sing to the Lord, throughout the whole earth;
and even the snail raises its horns,
teaching us all to praise Him’21
Thus, right beneath the sketch of the church he wished to build, the snail—drawn by the founder’s own hand—appears; interpreted as a symbol of humility, it has its horns extended to perceive the light and warmth of the sun, much like the arms of a man in prayer 22.
A man of an era of ‘brilliant culture and refined art’, as the Brâncoveanu period was regarded—a period entirely exceptional in the history of Romanian art— Saint Antim “succeeded, through his manifold talents and his unrivalled ability, in playing the leading role in the life of Wallachia, without any of his contemporaries or successors being able to seriously consider that he did not deserve the full measure of honours he received’23, or that any of the praise bestowed upon him was undeserved or exaggerated. Antim is regarded as “a man of genius, whose biography has yet to be written in the colours he deserves more overwhelmingly than anyone else”24.
Even if we had no record of the Didachies and his other writings, and were to content ourselves merely with his rich contribution as a printer and translator, we still could not help but admire the linguistic talent with which he was endowed. From a comparison of several liturgical texts—the earliest dating from the time of Saint Antim of Ivireanul and the latest from the 1930s—‘it appears that, in most cases, the linguistic differences, after the passage of two and a half centuries, are very minor. And this is because Metropolitan Antim grasped the true essence of our language…’25 For this reason, the assertion that ‘one of the major objectives of his work was the sustained pursuit of establishing the Romanian language as the liturgical language’26 must be supplemented by the fact that the hierarch was equally concerned both with the aesthetic aspect of the Romanian language—and not merely the ‘27’ variety—and with everything pertaining to the artistic sphere of culture.
In this regard, Nicolae Iorga’s remark is telling: after pointing out that Prince Brâncoveanu was the one who gave “the final brilliant form to the Muntean style, in which so many elements are united”, considered that the prince’s inspiration “may well have been that monk from Ivir, a master of all crafts—a painter, a sculptor, undoubtedly a singer, a founder, a woodcarver, a printer, a writer, an orator— that Antim who raised the country’s Metropolis by ascending the steps of the archiepiscopal throne’28”. Elsewhere, he was described as ‘a man of many arts, a polymath of his time, who brought together the knowledge of all the crafts and breathed life into them with the same sense of beauty’29, gathering them all together, as in a rediscovered garden of paradise, in his remarkable foundation, one which managed to pierce the clouds of that rather tense and feverish era, marked by a constant threat from enemies, both of the country and of his faith, in a steadfast prayer expressed in stone and borne witness to in and through the life and work of its founder.
In the year in which the work was completed, the founder formalised his provisions through the Archiepiscopal Decree of Saint Antim, Metropolitan of Wallachia, issued on 20 July 1715, in which he states that, since the prophet David commands us to ‘speak well of God in the churches and to love the adornment of His house’. Therefore, in our humility, since by the mercy of God we have been raised to the high rank of the episcopate and have been entrusted with the care of shepherding the flock that speaks the word, knowing these two duties that rest upon us, we have not, to the best of our ability, failed to teach the flock of the faithful what is useful and salvific, and to nourish them with the sweet milk of the Word. Likewise, for the uplifting, enrichment and adornment of the holy places, we have had great zeal and divine fervour; and this zeal, with the guidance and aid of God, the Giver of all good things, has borne fruit and come to a successful conclusion. For through my many labours, the printing of books and the charity of merciful Christians, we have been deemed worthy to raise from the foundations a beautiful church here in Bucharest, to the glory and thanksgiving of God Himself, who is glorified in the Holy Trinity, and to the honour and praise of all the saints together… Furthermore, with God’s help, we have adorned and embellished the church both inside and out with many silver ornaments and costly vestments…”30
The tiny snail, placed so discreetly yet quite visibly somewhere near the foundation of the church designed by Saint Antim in the Charter of 24 April 1713, a document considered to be the Metropolitan’s Testament, can be read as a testimony to the founder’s piety, its two little horns rising like the church’s two spires, raised in prayer to the Creator and Artist of the whole world, He Who had guided his steps amidst this Romanian spirituality, which he loved and knew well enough to adapt to the complex situations he had to navigate.
He who, in his works, indicated his Georgian origins as explicitly as possible (calling himself Antim Ivireanul, Antim of Georgian descent, or Antim the hieromonk, the printer from Iviria) has left us, the Romanian people, not only a catechetical work of undoubted literary merit (his Didachies having earned a well-deserved prominent place in the history of Romanian literature), but also a foundation in Bucharest (which he intended to be a cultural centre, complete with a printing press and a library), at the heart of which stands a church that is more princely than hierarchical and which, through its artistic expression, showcases the undeniable talent of Saint Metropolitan Antim of Iviria – founder of the ‘All Saints’ Monastery and a patron of Romanian art.
- 1
Dorica Voinescu, ‘Antim Church’, in the journal Boabe de grâu, vol. IV (1933), no. 9, p. 541.
- 2
Antim Ivireanul, Works, Critical edition and introductory study by G. Ștrempel, Minerva Publishers, Bucharest, 1972, pp. 325–346; Gabriel Ștrempel, Catalogue of Romanian Manuscripts, vol. III, B.A.R. 3101–4413, Științifică și enciclopedică Publishing House, Bucharest, 1987, vol. III, p. 93.
- 3
Academician Dr Gabriel Ștrempel, ‘The Beautiful Place of Worship of Saint Antim’, in the volume TheHoly Monastery of Antim: History, Spirituality and Culture, 1713–2013, Basilica, 2013, p. 32.
- 4
Grigore Ionescu, Architecture in Romania through the Centuries, published by the Romanian Socialist Republic Academy, Bucharest, 1981, p. 397.
- 5
D. Voinescu, The Antim Church, p. 545.
- 6
D. Voinescu, Antim Church, p. 545.
- 7
Olga Greceanu, Bucharest and its Surroundings, Bucharest, 1928, p. 156.
- 8
Grigore Ionescu, Bucharest, A Historical and Artistic Guide, the ‘King Carol II’ Foundation for Literature and Art, Bucharest, 1938, p. 220.
- 9a9b
Olga Greceanu, Bucharest and its Surroundings, p. 155.
- 10
Nicolae Iorga, A History of Romanian Literature, Vol. II, From 1688 to 1780, published by Librăria Pavel Suru, Bucharest, 1926, p. 465.
- 11
D. Voinescu, The Antim Church, p. 539.
- 12
Nicolae Iorga, Inscriptions from the Churches of Romania, Vol. 1, Part 1, Nos. 1–764, ‘MINERVA’ Institute of Graphic Arts and Publishing, Bucharest, 1905, p. 288.
- 13
“It seems he was also a painter, and tradition attributes to him the decoration of the chapel in Râmnic, where he served as bishop for a time”, Nicolae Iorga, p. 465.
- 14
V. Brătulescu, ‘Antim Ivireanul, Miniaturist and Sculptor’, in BOR, vol. LXXIV (1956), no. 8–9, p. 767.
- 15
V. Brătulescu, Antim Ivireanul, Miniaturist and Sculptor, p. 768.
- 16a16b
Olga Greceanu, Bucharest and its Surroundings, p. 66.
- 17
Grigore Ionescu, Bucharest, A Historical and Artistic Guide, p. 220.
- 18
Victor Brătulescu, Antim Ivireanul, miniaturist and sculptor, p. 768.
- 19
The first key to the church door, which is said to have been carved by the founder himself, is also shaped like a snail.
- 20
Ghenadie Craiovenu, ‘The Will of Metropolitan Antim Iverenu’, in B.O.R., no. 3, March 1885, p. 229.
- 21
Ștefan Dinulescu, ‘The Life and Work of the Metropolitan of the Romanian Lands, Antimu Ivireanul (1708–1716)’, in Candela V (1886), 12, p. 733.
- 22
Protopresbyter Vicențiu Oboroceanu, ‘The Saint Antim Monastery and Acts of Charitable Love’, in The Holy Monastery of Antim: History, Spirituality and Culture, 1713–2013, Basilica, 2013, p. 38.
- 23
G. Ștrempel, Introduction, p. V.
- 24
G.I. Ionnescu-Gion, The History of Bucharest, I. V. Socecu Printing Works, Bucharest, 1899, p. 172.
- 25
N. Șerbănescu, ‘Antim Ivireanu, the printer’, in BOR, vol. LXXIV (1956), nos. 8–9, p. 766.
- 26
Doru Bădără, Romanian Printing in the Late 17th and Early 18th Centuries, Brăila Museum, Istros Publishers, Brăila, 1998, p. 82.
- 27
For example, attention was drawn to ‘the elegant handwriting so characteristic of Antim’ found in ‘The Book of Ștefan-Vodă Cantacuzino, so that the grocer and the innkeeper might be free from all want’, cf. C. C. Giurescu, History, p. 301.
- 28
Nicolae Iorga, The History of the Romanians in Portraits and Icons, Ramuri, Craiova, 1921, p. 115.
- 29
Nicolae Iorga, ‘An Antimis by Metropolitan Luca’, in BOR, LIII (1935), p. 837.
- 30
Ștefan Dinulescu, ‘The Life and Work of Antim Ivireanul, Metropolitan of the Romanian Lands (1708–1716)’, in: Candela V (1886), 12, pp. 736–737; Archimandrite Sofian Boghiu, Saint Antim Ivireanul and the Monastery of All Saints, Bizantină Publishers, Bucharest, 2005, p. 166.