An autumn exercise: Reflect on your life with this painting

In the Louvre, there hangs a series of four paintings by the artist Nicolas Poussin. Each painting is a mythological landscape in a heroic, Baroque style that depicts a different season of the year.

Poussin painted them toward the end of his life, during the years 1660-1664, when old age had began to catch up with him. He’d developed a tremor in his hand, which is highly problematic for a painter, and become something of a recluse because of health issues.

Work on the Four Seasons paintings went slowly, but Poussin, a man one critic called “The Raphael of our century,” persisted and eventually turned out a series of masterpieces.

All four paintings are based on Old Testament themes. For Spring he paints Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Summer is Boaz discovering Ruth gleaning corn in his fields. Autumn shows the Israelite spies returning with grapes from the Promised Land. Winter is Noah and the flood. The grandeur of the scenes is meant to immerse the viewer in the divine power of God as expressed through nature.

Today is the first day of Autumn, so I thought we could look closely at the painting for Fall, titled The Spies with the Grapes of the Promised Land. (You can see all four paintings here.)

Initially, the scene is quite straightforward. It’s a depiction of the Bible story about Joshua and Caleb returning from the land of Canaan with a cluster of grapes which they brought back to prove that the land was fruitful. The two had been sent by Moses to scout ahead as the Israelites approached the Promised Land.

They return not only with evidence of the rich, productive soil but also with stories of walled cities and inhabitants who were giants. On hearing about the giants, many Israelites become afraid and want to retreat, but Joshua and Caleb urge faith in God’s covenant. The enemies may have been intimidating but they know God is greater.

If we keep looking at the painting, though, the details that frame the scene become more intriguing. Why is there a lady on a ladder picking apples? Why are there random ruins in the background? And why does Poussin connect this Biblical story with Autumn? This isn’t a simple replication of the Bible story.

Poussin has painted the scene to take place in Fall, the chosen season for this particular canvas. The colors are all earthy oranges with the soft golden glow of a Sun that has tired out over the course of the year. The tree on the left seems like maybe it has begun to lose leaves and, at least in northern climates, apple-picking is an Autumn activity. He intuits a connection between the spies, the grapes, Autumn, and the passing of time.

The mystery of the painting is unlocked through attention to the details which function symbolically.

Poussin paints with a chiaroscuro technique to emphasize high contrast shadows and create more drama. The two spies are moving through a landscape full of meaning. The ruins in the background suggest that the travelers are moving through it as strangers. This isn’t their home. It can’t be. All the habitations are rubble. The sense of dissolution is present even in the physical qualities of the paint, which is roughly applied.

The rough technique isn’t typical for Poussin, who was usually a more polished painter, and some art critics have theorized that his declining heath is to blame. If true, this means that, even as he was painting ruins symbolic of the passing nature of life, his very body was communicating the same difficult lesson. He knew his time was limited.

Baroque art often employed backgrounds full of ruins to create an emotional response. The crumbling walls, often reminiscent of structures from classical civilization, display the transience of human effort in contrast with the terrible majesty of nature. Our physical achievements will eventually crumble. And yet, the ruins still evoke a powerful sense of mystery and beauty. The best parts of us linger. Perhaps, even though existence in this world is transient, we were made for a higher, permanently enduring plane, made for eternity?

The central theme of the painting is, of course, the grapes. Most viewers won’t look at the ruins first but, rather, at the two men with the grapes. It may take a moment to register, though, that the grapes are massive. This is because the men who grew them are giants.

Like the ruins, the grapes are a symbol of the overwhelming power of nature. Nature is full of bounty and beauty but it is also completely out of our control. It causes us to wonder but also to become afraid -- for instance, during a hurricane, seeing a grizzly bear in the wild, or standing at the precipice of a great cliff. Like the Israelites, perhaps we’re tempted to avert our eyes and turn back to comfort. What kind of giants are capable of growing grapes as big as apples? We avoid the big questions.

There’s a sense in which we move through this world like spies. All its bounty is made for us, and yet we’re never quite at home here. We’re still searching out the Promised Land. This can cause nostalgic suffering. We long for Heaven, but only achieve our goal by trusting God and allowing his love to re-make us.

The mingling of sacrifice and beauty is present in the deep symbolism of the grapes, which point toward the Eucharist. We are redeemed through the sacrifice of love. There is no other way. This is a battle we must engage if we are to enter into Paradise.

The grapes aren’t the only fruit in the painting. In fact, there’s a direct visual connection with the fruit tree. Emerging directly from the grapes is a ladder upon which stands a woman picking fruit. We can identify it as an apple tree, which fits the Autumn theme, but what’s really important about the tree is that it represents the Tree of Life.

How is the New Eden brought to fruition? The visual connection makes it clear - directly through the Eucharist. The Eucharist is a ladder to Heaven and the woman who stands upon it, if I might speculate, is the Church. It is Our Lady the Church who climbs the ladder and she brings you and me with her.

Some critics say this painting is pantheistic. They interpret it as a great homage to the divinity of nature. It isn’t that at all. Not even close. The painting is a depiction of Christ renewing his creation. He is food for the journey and -- although the challenges of this life are great, although we feel the pain of passing of time like leaves falling in Autumn -- Christ is among us. He feeds us, gives his very self for us, and ultimately renews nature like a ruin transfigured to the New Jerusalem, the Tree of Life that is even now putting out green shoots.