Art and the Homeless

The subject, a 40-year-old first-generation Italian-American, visited the ER of the hospital, assisted by his wife. He complained of dizzy spells and of stumbling, while walking. He feared an approaching stroke. Despite profuse apologies for any trouble he might cause, he was admitted. The wife was apprised of the immediate condition, entrusted with a prescription, and ordered to drive them both home. They were further instructed to return in the morning. The resident medical team planned the subject's treatment in the meantime and, in the morning, subject was informed more fully of his condition. An X-ray of the front of his head showed an obvious anomaly. A large, white (therefore opaque to X-rays) blob appeared to fill most of one side of the subject's cranium. It was a tumor, comparable in size to a fist. Further complicating his condition, it had forced most of the cortex on the tumor side to the opposite hemisphere of the cranium. It was a perilous squeeze. The subject wa...

In a tiny meditation room—of what was formerly a monastery—within the San Marco Museum, located in Florence, Italy, is a fresco painted by the renowned Fra Angelico (1395-1455). It shows Christ seated upon a chair, which is raised upon a stone dais, and Mary Magdalene and Saint John, seated upon a step at Christ's feet. It is one of several examinations of particular works of art in a book by Ben Street, titled "How to Enjoy Art," subtitled "A Guide for Everyone" (2021). Incidentally, the female figure can be identified as Mary Magdalene because it is painted red. Red is the identifying iconography of Mary Magdalene, as blue is for The Mother of God. It is by iconography that the meaning of Christian art is deconstructed. As the room occupied by the fresco is intended for a solitary viewer, the iconographic syntax of the composition of the image speaks not with the authoritative voice of The Mass, but with that of a confessor. As such, it might be inferred that ...

Joseph Conrad, in his 1907 story The Secret Agent , provides this dialog: “You would call that lad a degenerate, would you?” “That’s what he may be called scientifically. Very good type too, altogether, of that sort of degenerate. It’s enough to glance at the lobes of his ears. If you read Lombroso—” The speakers are discussing a feeble-minded character who plays a crucial role in the narrative. It is Conrad's reference to Cesare Lombroso (1835-1909) that is signal. Conrad appears to surrender total authorial discretion, in a work of fiction, by linking it to the literature of fact. Facts, that is, insofar as they were accepted as such 115 years ago.  It is like an admission—even a confession—by Conrad. While today a law enforcement officer would be laughed to scorn for the mere mention of Lombroso, in 1907, his theories had the authority of scientific discovery. What, today, would be roundly dismissed as profiling, was a harmless trade secret of writers of fiction, dramatists, ope...