Chocolate Jesus

A Manhattan art gallery cancelled its Easter-week exhibit of a life-size chocolate sculpture of Jesus Christ after an outcry by Roman Catholics. The sculpture reflects on several issues of consumerism, religion and art that may be seen as relevant discussions in light of the season. The most overt commentary is likely the parallel between the large numbers of chocolate Easter bunnies and eggs purchased for a day that for Christians marks the resurrection of Jesus Christ (flashback to my 2005 Easter post). The fact that the chocolate is a dark brown may also be worthy of some contemplation. Artistically there are at least two long-standing issues here: the debate over nudity in images of a religious topic (Michelangelo even faced fierce resistance to his use of nude figures in his Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel.) and the debate of the use of innovative versus traditional mediums (Why should stone or paint be given more respect or priority than the use of plastics or in this case chocolate?).

NEW YORK Mar 31, 2007 (AP)— A planned Holy Week exhibition of a nude, anatomically correct chocolate sculpture of Jesus Christ was canceled Friday after Cardinal Edward Egan and other outraged Catholics complained.

The "My Sweet Lord" display was shut down by the hotel that houses the Lab Gallery in midtown Manhattan. Roger Smith Hotel president James Knowles cited the public outcry for his decision.

The reaction "is crystal clear and has brought to our attention the unintended reaction of you and other conscientious friends of ours to the exhibition," Knowles wrote in the two-paragraph cancellation notice.

Matt Semler, the gallery's creative director, resigned in protest.

The six-foot sculpture was the victim of "a strong-arming from people who haven't seen the show, seen what we're doing," Semler said. "They jumped to conclusions completely contrary to our intentions."

But word of the confectionary Christ infuriated Catholics, including Egan, who described it as "a sickening display." Bill Donohue, head of the watchdog Catholic League, said it was "one of the worst assaults on Christian sensibilities ever."

The hotel and the gallery were overrun Thursday with angry phone calls and e-mails about the exhibit. Semler said the calls included death threats over the work of artist Cosimo Cavallaro, who was described as disappointed by the decision to cancel the display.

"In this situation, the hotel couldn't continue to be supportive because of a fear for their own safety," Semler said.

The sculpture was to debut Monday evening, the day after Palm Sunday and just four days before Christians mark the crucifixion of Jesus Christ on Good Friday. The final day of the exhibit was planned for Easter Sunday.

The artwork was created from more than 200 pounds of milk chocolate, and features Christ with his arms outstretched as if on an invisible cross. Unlike the typical religious portrayal of Christ, the Cavallaro creation does not include a loincloth.

Cavallaro hoped the sculpture could go on display elsewhere, according to Semler.

As often happens when artworks have attention brought to them for being "controversial", the chocolate Jesus is being raised from its obscurity and will likely become well known and even infamous. The sculpture was to only be displayed for two hours each day this week, but now is being discussed and shown in photos around the world. The similarities to photographer Andres Serrano's Piss Christ or Chris Ofili's The Virgin Mary made up of paper collage, oil paint, glitter, polyester resin and elephant dung on linen are obvious. But unlike the latter when then-Mayor Rudolph Giuliani tried to withdraw a grant from the Brooklyn Museum of Art, current New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg stated, "If you want to give the guy some publicity, talk more about it, make a big fuss. If you want to really hurt him, don't pay attention."

This is also not a new concept. The casting of an image of Jesus Christ in chocolate has been done many times before for both commercial purposes (the first two images - buy your own) and by artists to very little fanfare.

















Two examples from artist George Heslop:
















Also in 2005 a Budapest based group did a "public" exhibition titled Corpus Christi Chocolate that was exhibited in the candy isle of supermarkets.

The Corpus Christi Chocolate examines the distant concepts of commodification, the symbolic complexity of the Eucharist, and the complex dynamics of obtaining sensual/spiritual pleasure through symbolic acts of consumerism. The piece twists the everyday practise of purchasing chocolate with the meaning of the Eucharist. Situated as it is in the very heart of consumer society, the supermarket, the Corpus Christi Chocolate comments on these themes by supplying its message in commercial spaces subverted for its own artistic use.

Eighteen Hours and One Week

This has been a week of recovery in our household. Last Thursday Catherine had an epileptic seizure that resulted in a trip to the hospital. She had the seizure while sitting in front of the college library with a cup of coffee between her classes. The next thing she remembers is awaking in an ambulance.

At about a quarter to noon my cell phone vibrated in my pocket, I looked at the unfamiliar number but did not answer it; I was in the middle of a lecture. A few minutes later it vibrated again. This time it was Catherine. The students were now doing a group activity, so I was able to step outside. Catherine was crying on the phone telling me she was in the hospital. I walked back into the classroom and immediately announced class was over.

In my car I called back the earlier call I had received and found out it was the college's nurse calling to tell me Catherine was being taken to the hospital. I asked why they hadn't just come and got me out of class. She said they hadn't realized I was that John, a member of the faculty. They told me Catherine had struck her head on the cement when she fell and that is why she was taken to the hospital.

I arrived at the hospital just before 12:30. Catherine was in the emergency room. The left side of her face was swollen, bloody, and covered with cuts and bruises. She had fractured the supraorbital foramen (above the eye socket) and had a gash under her eye that would need stitches. Thankfully there was no hemorrhaging, concussion or damage to the eye.

After five hours and a failed attempt at stitching the cut below her eye, we were informed she was being transferred to another hospital. It appears that after getting midway into the stitching the doctor realized she did not have the expertise to do this type of work so close to the eye. I am glad she finally realized this, but it would have been better if this assessment had been done hours earlier and before she started the stitching.

I had been naively optimistic that I would make it back to the college to teach some of the three courses I still had that afternoon. As the hours passed I made phone calls to have people cover my class or to put a sign on the door stating class would be cancelled. When we were told Catherine would be transferred to another hospital I knew I would not be making it back and cancelled the last of my courses. Also, in my rush to get to Catherine, I had not brought anything with me. The stack of reading and grading sitting back at my office taunted me from afar all day ;)

When I arrived at the second hospital I was told the ambulance carrying Catherine had not arrived yet. This seemed odd since I got stuck in traffic and lost on the way, but okay. After an hour they were still telling me she had not arrived and they had no record of her. Now I knew there was something wrong. For some reason nobody seemed to want to help me find this missing patient. I had to call the first hospital and have them help me. It turned out Catherine had actually arrived at the second hospital before I had. So for over an hour she had been on a gurney in a hallway and nobody seemed to be aware of this. It is very unnerving to think that an injured patient on morphine could just be "misplaced" in this manner.

After sitting in the hallway for about three hours we were put in the corner of a room that already had two patients. It wasn't until about 10:30 that night, nearly eleven hours after the accident, that she was moved into one of the official bed spaces in the room. Also at this time, they finally called the doctor to stitch her eye that we thought had been contacted even before she was transferred. We were then told the doctor was now with another patient and it might be a couple more hours.

It was actually after 2:30 in the morning before we saw the doctor. The doctor was a pleasant, professional and very young man. He seemed very concerned with doing all he could for Catherine and spent nearly an hour and a half meticulously stitching the cut under her eye. There will likely be a scar, but hopefully it will be very faint.

Catherine was finally released from the hospital at 5:30 in the morning, eighteen hours after the seizure. I have to say that it was really hard to believe how slow everything happened at the hospitals. I hear people today that are against any type of universal healthcare cry that this would result in slow and inefficient care and people would have to wait for hours to see a doctor. Um, 18 hours! Fifteen of which Catherine waited with an open wound on her face. I am not sure what it is exactly about our current system we think is so perfect. From where I was sitting I can unequivocally say that there is much room for improvement.

With that aside, Catherine has spent this last week hibernating at home. Thankfully it is Spring Break so she is not missing any classes. Sadly she was suppose to go to New York to visit her father and could not. The swelling and bruising is almost completely gone. There is still a scab around her eye and of course the stitches. It will only be a matter of time before she is back to her old self. I am just happy she is going to be okay.

Ouch, that stung. Maybe a bit too close to home?

No, my mother hasn't done this, but the shame/guilt/whatever is still something someone in this position tends to deal with.