Maria Gabankova
Probing the Mystery: The Art of Maria Gabankova
Both artists and scientists have long been fascinated by the human body, the place where time and eternity,
flesh and spirit meet in the mystery we call humanity. The links between anatomy and the visual arts have a
long history. Perhaps the most famous work illustrating this connection is a painting by Rembrandt of The
Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicholaes Tulp (1632): ‘The picture oscillates … between a pessimistic and optimistic
spectrum of meaning. At one end of the spectrum, we are asked to reflect on our own mortality, whilst at the
other end, we are urged, nevertheless, to celebrate the wisdom of God who has reserved for humanity a special
place in creation.’ 1 The work found in this book resonates with these themes.
Attention to the human figure was largely lost in the twentieth century as artists turned to works of abstraction,
installation pieces and a general commitment to conceptual art driven by self-expression. But the interest in
the human figure did not completely disappear. In America, Philip Pearlstein produced near-photographic
likenesses; in England, there was the ever-solemn and at times unsettling work of Francis Bacon, and the raw
realism of Lucien Freud; and in Canada there was the magic realism of Alex Colville. Recently other visual
artists have been paying attention to the human figure. This group includes artists of Christian faith such as
Bruce Hermann, Ed Knippers and Tim Lowly in America, and in Canada, Erica Grimm-Vance, Gerald Folkerts,
David Robinson—and Maria Gabankova. Gabankova’s career-long commitment to figurative art manifests the
influence of her great European predecessors. But her fascination with the human figure is rooted in the belief
that gestures and emotions are powerful tools for expressing ideas and discovering insights.
Maria Gabankova’s sensibilities were deeply shaped by her early environment. She was born in Czechoslovakia
when it was still under a communist regime. Her father was an artist, but also a conscientious objector and
a political prisoner at the end of the Stalinist era. After the Soviet-led invasion of Czechoslovakia by the
Warsaw Pact armies in 1968, her parents, Antonia Lanik Gabanek and Joseph Gabanek, left their homeland
and emigrated to Canada with their two children, Maria and Jan. Both of Maria’s parents are figure
painters, and her own interest in this field developed early. The work and encouragement of her parents and
the training and experience she received while studying at the Art Students League of New York enabled her
to pursue this interest, despite pressure to follow the popular trends in the 1970s of turning to conceptual
art and self-expression.
Religious faith began to stir in Gabankova in her early twenties, and she began to pay more careful attention
to the wonder of God’s creation. Art historian Hans Rookmaaker’s book The Creative Gift encouraged her by
providing insight into how being a Christian and a contemporary artist need not be in conflict. She followed her
artistic calling with the spirit captured in Leonardo Da Vinci’s words: ‘For painting is a way to learn to know
the Maker of all marvellous things—and this is the way to love so great an inventor.’ Evident in her work is a
sense of joy, wonder and discovery as she observes the natural world and specifically the human body.
Narrative characterizes Gabankova’s paintings, and we are invited to participate in these deeply personal
vignettes on canvas. The work you will find in this book is personal in two ways. It is born out of the rich and
indelible experiences of the life of the artist, which speak to the stark realities of our world, and it is personal in
its attention to the human condition in all its complexity. Gabankova is always aware that we may not see what
we are looking at , and that both life and art call us to an engaging gaze if we are to see below the surface of
things. Through her art, she seeks to gain glimpses of the meaning of ordinary objects, and most particularly of
the meaning of human existence.
Gabankova is an astute observer of human beings, both in the physical world of flesh and blood and in the
internal realm of the spirit. The individual portrayed in her paintings is not the self-sufficient individual of
modern Western culture but rather the individual isolated, vulnerable and alone, longing for something more.
This is art that unmasks the pretence and hubris that so often attend human behaviour. It is art that protests
against the dehumanizing influences that plague us: the violence, destruction and despair that attend the deep
divisions in our social, political and religious landscape, the battles that rage around us and within us.
Gabankova’s work is philosophical; it looks for the deeper meaning of life. It probes beyond the fragmentations
common to postmodern culture and searches for coherence and harmony. It acknowledges the truth about
our existence as fragile and vulnerable; yet, the pain and suffering that afflict body and spirit are illuminated
by a reassuring ray which sustains hope amidst the darkness of life. There is a play of light and shadow in her
depictions of the human figure that evokes not only what is seen with the eye but also what is experienced in
the soul.
Body Broken—Body Redeemed illustrates how Gabankova brings together the reality of human brokenness
and the hope of human redemption. The work collected here avoids the polarities of nihilism and triumphalism.
Much of contemporary art leads us into a cul-de-sac from which there is no escape. While, too often, the art
found in religious settings is triumphalistic, naive in its inclination to pander to our desire for joyful harmony
while neglecting or perhaps avoiding the chaos of human brokenness and the dark side of our individual and
social realities. Gabankova’s approach resonates with the biblical story which offers us a holistic understanding
of humanity, refusing the temptations of both nihilism and triumphalism. Instead, it reveals the same sort
of oscillation seen in Rembrandt’s painting—the oscillation between human mortality and immortality, the
dialectic of life and death.
But in addition to this, Gabankova’s paintings also express the fuzzy lines between the real and unreal. The
figures in Report from a Leaky Boat and Freedombound exist on the threshold between living flesh
and static, lifeless mannequins. The Leaky Boat echoes The Ship of Fools by Hieronymus Bosch (1450–1516).
The theme of an aimless voyage accompanied by selfindulgent play resonates in a postmodern culture. Freedombound provides us with a telling metaphor for a superficial understanding of freedom which is ultimately self-destructive. In the self-portrait The Joker’s New Clothes the mixture of animate and inanimate in the figure leaves us unsure whether the joker’s dance disregards or celebrates the technology that surrounds her.
Society’s current concern with ‘body image’ focuses purely on surface appearances. Gabankova’s anatomical paintings, however, take us below the surface and disclose the bones, organs, arteries and veins that make our bodies what they are. These works challenge the false glamour of contemporary self-understandings and remind us of our vulnerability and of the wonder of the body’s intricacies. And in a surprising way, Gabankova takes this ‘inside’
view of the body as the means of depicting an image of The Cross: flesh and blood—broken for the sake of
all humanity. The bold and surreal paintings of Hammer in the Head and Globalization have an arresting impact. At first it is difficult to discern what one is looking at, but soon the picture comes clear and we are left with stark and disturbing representations of the state of our society and of individuals. The unsettling reflection depicted in
Selfportrait—Fear could be an icon for how many in our world experience life. The Fall suggests
the chaos and vulnerability of the human condition as bodies float downward with no apparent capacity to
control their fall, while their flesh seems to undergo a transformation. All this is accompanied by the sinister
presence of the face of evil—a satanic figure. Another aspect of the brokenness addressed in Gabankova’s work is our
failures of compassion. Forgotten News vividly shows how easily pain, suffering and tragedy become yesterday’s news. Famine, poverty, war, homelessness, violence and oppression are set aside in a pile to be recycled while we await the next wave of information. The faceless figure prompts us to remember how quickly we can become immune to the stark realities of life, whether half a world away or on the streets of our own town. Kosovo can be read as a lament for a war-torn country where the innocent suffer while those in power work out their ill-advised plans.
Within the blood-red cloak we see gentle compassionate hands and the pained and almost prayerful face of a young woman carrying some of the weight of the surrounding conflict. The drawing series Sleeper I, II and III manifests a compassionate gaze on figures weary from the weight of life’s demands and the diminished strength of an aging body. We are drawn to these simple figures bent by the cares of life, and are made
grateful for the gift of sleep. Gabankova’s work plays on paradox: what is depicted points to its
opposite. Our awareness of brokenness becomes the means through which our need for redemption is disclosed. In these paintings we are not left to despair but find, instead, a breaking in of hope with the promise of
a body redeemed . There is no magical escape from the human condition, only signs that this is not all there is.
Undergirding the work is the artist’s conviction that the spiritual is revealed through the physical. The spirituality woven into her imagery is not a disembodied spirituality but one which accepts the material world
as a gift of the divine artist who has created all things. The transforming power of faith is captured in the
painting titled Psalms. In this work she juxtaposes word and image, drawing on the rich resources of the
biblical psalms. While praying, the kneeling figure is being changed from mere stone to flesh and blood. Just
beside the feet of this figure are words from Psalm 119—‘Thy word is a lamp unto my feet’. The Bible serves
as a foundation that grounds and shapes the perspective informing all of Gabankova’s work. Her art is never
preachy, but it is saturated in the biblical narrative. Hope provides another image where the sacred text
with its well-worn pages can be seen as a resource for ordinary life.
We should not overlook the cleverly constructed heads, part of a series of seven titled Special Department
(Paper Head I and II). These well-executed paintings are full of humour and make us laugh a little
at ourselves. But humour, as one author put it, is a signal of transcendence; it suggests to us that there is more
in life than meets the eye, more than the collection of my experiences. Humour gives us a sense that hope is not
futile. A glimpse of this hope is found in Waiting for a Miracle. The foot washing in this painting takes
place across social boundaries, indicating our call to be servants to one another and not to be deterred by social
expectations or by our differences. In the unclothed bodies of the two main figures, where the emotions are
much more in view, the artist captures the joy and gentleness of the giver, while uncertainty and even a sense
of being undeserving can be seen in the face of the receiver. Those who witness this act of service seem almost
oblivious to what is happening—and appear to have little concern for its depth of meaning. It is easy to miss
the meaningful in ordinary life.
Messenger 1 and 2 are two examples from a series inspired by the biblical book of Revelation.
These are no sentimentalized angels; they are assertive young women clasping trumpets that they are ready
to sound to awaken us from our complacent self-indulgence and alert us to the divine judgment on human
disobedience. These images hint at human accountability and suggest that what we do in time may have
implications for eternity.
In Messengers of Light we are reminded that the body broken can become the body redeemed because of
the resurrection of Jesus. Here is where light comes to dispel darkness, where despair is overcome by hope, and
where we find the promise that brokenness will be transformed into wholeness. This same promise is eloquently
expressed in New Song, where those gathered around the table are participants in a fellowship, joined
together by common faith as beneficiaries of the work accomplished by ‘the Lamb of God who takes away the
sin of the world’. Musical instruments are there to speak praises to God, while food and drink symbolize a
celebration of the richness of divine provision. This image focuses our gaze on a promised future, one that we
can catch glimpses of in the present. These works express the hope that one day all things will be made new.
This book contains only a selection of Gabankova’s work, for within her repertoire of painting you can find
still-lifes, architectural studies and portraits. The art found in these pages are strong works, bold, compelling,
insightful and deeply spiritual. They serve as windows into the mystery of human existence and the mystery of
human salvation. There is a prophetic thread in these paintings, not a self-conscious one, but one that emerges
from the integrity of the work and of the artist as she seeks to depict the drama of the human spirit in the
struggle for meaning and significance. Born of a sense of wonder and a hopeful spirit, these paintings invite
us to look afresh at what it means to be human. Despite the darkness in life, they call us to nurture a spirit
of hope. In this rich collection of visual art we sense that life is not a possession to be grasped but a gift to be
received, a miracle that inspires gratitude.
John Franklin
John Franklin has lectured in theology and philosophy. At present he is the Executive Director of Imago,
a registered charity that promotes the work of Christians in the arts in Canada (www.imago-arts.on.ca).
He is also the editor of the quarterly Imago Newsletter. John is based in Toronto.
Maria Gabankova
Photograph by Joseph Gabanek
Sleeper I
This drawing from life was done on the New York subway in 1980, during commutes from Queens to Manhattan, where I studied at the Art Students League. At times I would even travel a few stops past my destination in order to finish a drawing. Many homeless persons lived on the city streets and the subway. I was deeply moved by the vulnerability of their body positions, with their faces often obscured.
Forgotten News
Report from Leaky Boat
Melancholia
The Joker’s New Clothes
body broken
body redeemed
published by Piquant Editions in Carlisle, United Kingdom
copyright 2007 by Maria Gabankova
ISBN-13:9781903689141
A selection of drawings and paintings
published by Piquant Editions