just a little ruffled, but there was nothing that Annie could do about it.
“Well, it certainly is lovely,” said Dolores. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it, except perhaps in Europe. Though, now that I think about it, it does remind me, in style at least, of the Unicorn Tapestries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.”
“I agree,” said Cyril. “Whoever made this had a real understanding of the power of image. He or she has used a lot of iconic images to add layers of meaning.”
“What do you mean?” asked Annie.
“Well, just take—for instance—the panel where the woman is gathering wool. The bush is a holly bush. Its red berries represent the blood of Christ, and its thorns the “crown” that was thrust upon Jesus’s head. In the background, the single lamb among the sheep—that is a way of representing Jesus with his Church,” said Cyril.
“That’s really interesting,” said Annie, seeing the tapestry in a whole new way. “How did you come to know so much about this?”
“It’s just something I’ve studied on my own,” replied Cyril. “It’s funny though; there was a time when people understood how to read images like these in a way that we’ve lost today.”
“Why is that funny?” asked Stella.
“It’s funny in an ironic way,” said Cyril. “Here we are, in a culture in which we are surrounded, one might even say bombarded, by images, yet we often don’t have the slightest idea of their power to influence us and couldn’t tell you the meaning of them if we were asked. We may talk about those ‘poor illiterate people’ of the Middle Ages, but let me tell you, they understood rituals and images, and they could read them like you and I can read books. We’ve lost that understanding to a large degree, in part because we’ve told ourselves that what we see every day doesn’t affect us. In my opinion, we’re only fooling ourselves.”
“Well said,” the professor interjected. “Though, as a professor at an institution of higher learning, I like to think that I convey to my students the importance of the image—the way that they move on stage, and the costumes and the set, all these contribute to how we relay the meaning of the words to the audience.”
“I’ve no doubt that you do, Rudy,” said Cyril. “But one wonders how aware the audience is of the reasons they are affected by certain images, and sometimes I wonder if they know how much they are being manipulated.”
It took Annie a moment to realize who “Rudy” was. She’d never even heard Stella refer to the professor in such a casual way. The professor himself seemed to take offense at Cyril’s words. He made a huffing sound and said, “Perhaps that’s what you learned at the Royal Academy, but at Longfellow, we—”
Stella cut off the professor, “Now, gentlemen, I think this is a discussion for another time.”
“Of course, Mrs. Brickson,” said the professor. He took a deep breath and shot a look at Cyril that, while not angry, wasn’t exactly friendly either. Annie had the impression there was some history between them. She wondered if they had known each other before—perhaps back in the days when the professor was an actor too. Dolores reached up and patted her husband on the shoulder, in a way Annie had seen her mother do when she thought Annie’s father was getting a little too intense during a conversation.
Dolores tactfully changed the subject. “Annie, do you know what these letters represent?” She was pointing to the bottom corner under the scene of the reading woman.
“Besides the Roman numerals in the center, which represent the number 1966, not really,” said Annie. She began walking over toward the “Home Song” tapestry on the wall. “The letter panel on the large tapestry is almost like the letter panel on this small one, except this number is 1946.” As Annie explained that the small tapestry had been displayed in the same place since she was a
“Well, it certainly is lovely,” said Dolores. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it, except perhaps in Europe. Though, now that I think about it, it does remind me, in style at least, of the Unicorn Tapestries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.”
“I agree,” said Cyril. “Whoever made this had a real understanding of the power of image. He or she has used a lot of iconic images to add layers of meaning.”
“What do you mean?” asked Annie.
“Well, just take—for instance—the panel where the woman is gathering wool. The bush is a holly bush. Its red berries represent the blood of Christ, and its thorns the “crown” that was thrust upon Jesus’s head. In the background, the single lamb among the sheep—that is a way of representing Jesus with his Church,” said Cyril.
“That’s really interesting,” said Annie, seeing the tapestry in a whole new way. “How did you come to know so much about this?”
“It’s just something I’ve studied on my own,” replied Cyril. “It’s funny though; there was a time when people understood how to read images like these in a way that we’ve lost today.”
“Why is that funny?” asked Stella.
“It’s funny in an ironic way,” said Cyril. “Here we are, in a culture in which we are surrounded, one might even say bombarded, by images, yet we often don’t have the slightest idea of their power to influence us and couldn’t tell you the meaning of them if we were asked. We may talk about those ‘poor illiterate people’ of the Middle Ages, but let me tell you, they understood rituals and images, and they could read them like you and I can read books. We’ve lost that understanding to a large degree, in part because we’ve told ourselves that what we see every day doesn’t affect us. In my opinion, we’re only fooling ourselves.”
“Well said,” the professor interjected. “Though, as a professor at an institution of higher learning, I like to think that I convey to my students the importance of the image—the way that they move on stage, and the costumes and the set, all these contribute to how we relay the meaning of the words to the audience.”
“I’ve no doubt that you do, Rudy,” said Cyril. “But one wonders how aware the audience is of the reasons they are affected by certain images, and sometimes I wonder if they know how much they are being manipulated.”
It took Annie a moment to realize who “Rudy” was. She’d never even heard Stella refer to the professor in such a casual way. The professor himself seemed to take offense at Cyril’s words. He made a huffing sound and said, “Perhaps that’s what you learned at the Royal Academy, but at Longfellow, we—”
Stella cut off the professor, “Now, gentlemen, I think this is a discussion for another time.”
“Of course, Mrs. Brickson,” said the professor. He took a deep breath and shot a look at Cyril that, while not angry, wasn’t exactly friendly either. Annie had the impression there was some history between them. She wondered if they had known each other before—perhaps back in the days when the professor was an actor too. Dolores reached up and patted her husband on the shoulder, in a way Annie had seen her mother do when she thought Annie’s father was getting a little too intense during a conversation.
Dolores tactfully changed the subject. “Annie, do you know what these letters represent?” She was pointing to the bottom corner under the scene of the reading woman.
“Besides the Roman numerals in the center, which represent the number 1966, not really,” said Annie. She began walking over toward the “Home Song” tapestry on the wall. “The letter panel on the large tapestry is almost like the letter panel on this small one, except this number is 1946.” As Annie explained that the small tapestry had been displayed in the same place since she was a
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