You walk into a silent museum.  Standing at an appropriate distance, you gaze at a piece of art set against the clinically white walls.  The art is lit as to leave no glare or shine and you, as the viewer, leave no shadow on it.  Enough space is allotted all around and it can be admired without peripheral distraction.  Near the art piece is a small tag announcing  the title and the name of the artist. Beyond this, the tag also advertises the more mundane:  the size, the materials used and the year this object was made.  You feel confident this art has been properly documented.   You stand, and you look.  You do nothing else.  For this art to be on display is probably a rare event, and it will soon be stored back into a humidity and temperature controlled room, properly mummified for posterity and as a testimony to the artists genius.  It might not be seen again for many years, unless the art finds favor in a curators whims.  

What I have just described is as close to an antithesis of sacred art as one can imagine, and so I would like to compare it to the experience of a particular example of sacred art:  the icon of the Baptism of Christ.  

You walk into a dimly lit church.  On a stand in the center, sitting at a 45° angle is the icon.  It sits at 45° not so much for you to look at it, but for you to kiss it. Behind the icon are flickering candles, and as you approach, a man in shiny robes passes, swinging incense around it.  The icon is surrounded by flowers.  It is surrounded by flowers because today is a celebration, the feast of Theophany, and the icon of the Baptism of Christ is the icon for that feast.  That is the reason why it is displayed.  To see the icon is to hear the chanting, the hymns of Theophany, the feast of light. “On this day you have appeared unto the whole world, and your light, O Sovereign Lord, is signed on us who sing your praise and chant with knowledge: you have now come, you hast appeared, O Light unapproachable.”   Light is related to baptism because as the Divine Man enters the waters of baptism it is light entering the chaotic waters, light entering the deep. And so it is fitting that at Christ’s baptism, he is shown to the world for the first time, as is celebrated again in a hymn: When you, O Lord, was baptized in the Jordan, worship of the Trinity was made manifest; for the voice of the Father bore witness to you, calling you his beloved Son. And the Spirit in the form of a dove confirmed the truth of his word. O Christ our God, who has appeared and enlightened the world, glory to you. " 

The festal hymn which is also sung at this feast suddenly takes all of its meaning in the light of the icon on the stand: “For as many as have been baptised into Christ, have put on Christ, Halleluia.” That is, the icon of the Baptism also makes visible the root of our own spiritual journey to be united with the Divine, having put on Christ, we are called to share in his inheritance.   The icon also reminds us of our belonging, of our own baptism and our initiation into the Church, marking also our participation in the very community with which we are now standing, now bowing, now chanting, now praying.   In the image of Baptism, the feast of Theophany is also the blessing of the waters, and so after a font of water is blessed, the faithful drink it, and are doused by the priest who walks around the church flinging water all over the place.   

Now you walk out of the church,  not alone, but surrounded by your community.  The icon, that piece of sacred art,  is carried with you in a procession to the nearby shore of a river, a lake or an ocean.   This baptism, this light that entered the waters of the Jordan 2000 years ago cannot be contained.  A cross is thrown into the water, so to show that all of creation receives the Divine light, that the entire universe is contained by the Divine Logos. 

That icon, that piece of sacred art, is never seen alone and for its own sake. It is experienced in song, in movement and in the smoky fragrance of incense.   It is not an intellectual game or an aesthetic experience.  It does something.  It participates in the identity of a community of believers. It makes them participate in a moment of sacred history, accompanies them on their spiritual journey and engages their relationship with God as well as with the entire cosmos.  

That’s what sacred art does.  

One of the uses of steatite (aka. soapstone) in the Byzantine empire, medieval West and later Orthodox world was for the making of miniatures, pendants, pectoral crosses and small icons.  As I have been exploring the properties of carved steatite myself, I have been surprised to notice how small it is possible to carve it while preserving the detail.  Just like ivory, steatite pendants were enclosed in casings made of silver or other precious metals, or else they were carved with a hole for a cord in the stone itself.  

The clarity one finds in a carved pendant is far greater than in a casting.  It is very difficult to render in a photograph,  but staring at a coin size image that is very sharply defined creates a very unique experience. 

In my own work, as well as in collaboration with New World Byzantine Studios, I have been reinterpreting these ancient designs of miniatures for the contemporary taste.  Under a strong directed light, with a magnifying glass and a precision exacto blade, I scrape away patiently to form eyes, fingers, hair.  A simple pectoral cross of the crucifixion can take me two full days.  Here are some historical examples of steatite miniatures intermixed with my own carvings.

Byzantine Steatite carving with a Gothic silver guilt frame.  This object was told to have belonged to Charlemagne, although according to the iconography and style, it is dated to the 12th century.  
More details here.

Engolpion before being encased in a silver frame.  I carved this for Bishop Irénée Rochon, OCA bishop of Québec City and Administrator of the archdiocese of Canada.  

It is based on the Virgin of Pochaev, a famous miracle working icon that is of particular importance to Bishop Irenee.  

This is a pectoral cross designed by Andrew Gould of New World Byzantine Studios and carved by myself. It is a steatite carving with a sterling case.  The engraving in the silver was also done by Andrew Gould.  

Here is an engolpion of St-George taken by Genevra Kornbluth

This is a Medallion of St-Jacob of Alaska I carved for New World Byzantine Studios.  

Here is an engolpion of St-Christopher  taken by Genevra Kornbluth 

2011 marked the launching of two new Orthodox liturgical art companies in the English speaking world.  In England we find Aidan Hart & co., founded by the veteran carver and iconographer Aidan Hart.  In the United States we see New World Byzantine Studios (NWBS) , founded by Andrew Gould who is renowned for his traditional church designs.  

Although an ocean lay in between, there is surprising similitude in these two endeavours.  These similarities mark what I believe is a common thread, a common awareness that has developed in the wake of the renewal of icons lead by such figures as Leonid Ouspenski and Photios Kontoglou.  Many of us, who having embraced this renewal, who having seen and experienced the value of traditional iconography, have also been disappointed to see so much of what Ouspenski and Kontoglou fought still rampant in liturgical art.  A church that prides herself on the beautiful traditional icons in her iconostas, can simultaneously display a mass-produced, baroque, cheaply gold plated tin gospel cover.   And so as we rediscover icons, it is only natural that this joy overflow into all of the liturgical arts, finding  as is said on Aidan Hart’s website, that not only icons, but also “the church building and its furnishings... ...are there to help lift the soul to God, to create an atmosphere conducive to worship and prayer. “

Like all renewals, there is a visible desire to return to the essential elements, and this appears very strongly in the designs of both companies.  There is a simplification, a sobriety of form displaying sparse use of ornament.  Absent also is relying on the shiny, the sparkling, the excess, but rather nobility is found in wood, stone, wrought iron, glass. Precious metals are used with a certain “matter-of-factness” that avoids the ostentatious. 

And maybe here  there is something to say about humility.  Both designers are converts.  Neither of them harbour particular attachments to Russian or Greek national pride. Neither of them are riding on the tail of an imperial art. Both live and pray in churches that are of an underappreciated minority in their country, in churches that are certainly poorer than the great national Orthodox Churches. This I believe also bears heavily in the choices made for design.  

Of course I am convinced this humility is a strength.  Being somewhat an outsider to nationalism permits also the creation of a liturgical art that dives into the entire tradition of our Church, that cherishes the best of Russian, Greek, Georgian, Serbian but also Carolingian and Romanesque treasures.  

I have worked with Andrew Gould of NWBS and have corresponded with Aidan Hart. I can confirm that, just as in my own heart, a true passion exists  in them for a renewed liturgical art seeking the glory of God.  We only hope and pray that our churches will follow.


Aidan Hart & co.
www.aidanhart.co

New World Byzantine Studios
www.nwbstudios.com

George Bilak is a Serbian carver who now lives in the United States.  He carves miniature icons, pectoral crosses, blessing crosses and eggs that will take your breath away.  I can say without hesitating that he has been one of the biggest influences in how I carve miniatures.  In fact, my very first miniature commission, of which I have written about in a previous post was done accompanied by many back and forth e-mail conversations between George and I.  

When looking at pictures of his minatures, one must continuously remind oneself of how small they are.  For example, when admiring the carved egg I have posted below, one must remember that it is about the size of a large chicken egg!    

What soon becomes apparent is the sheer joy in precision which appears in his utmost attention to detail as can be seen in the painstaking rendering of patterns and borders.  

Aside from miniatures, George has also created a monumental iconostasis in which are hidden all kinds of small carved icons depicting traditional and biblical scenes.  

He is also an Icon painter, and I find the sculptural element of his carvings reappear in his painted icons. This sculptural aspect can be seen  in the desire to fully render all areas of the image.  In many icons, one finds clothing highlighted very schematically and often simplified. On the other hand, in George's icons a complex and fully rendered network of folds cover the entire surface of a Saint's vestment.     

In short, it is quite worth it to take a few minutes and admire George Bilak's work which can be seen on his website.

www.carvingart.com

Aidan Hart is an Iconographer from England.  Trained as a sculptor and moving to carved icons along his own spiritual journey, he is now involved in almost every aspect that touches liturgical art:  panel icons, frescoes, metalwork, furniture, icon screens, manuscript illumination and more.  He might be called the utmost expert on icon painting techniques having recently published what is being hailed as the most comprehensive book on Icons  and wall painting. 

Aidan is really a teacher at heart, impassioned to revive traditional liturgical arts and an understanding of the sacred. He has given me quite a deal of advice and critique for my own carvings.  
Something of Aidans work that touches me and connects with what I have been trying to do is his simplicity in forms.  He does not try to impress by mere virtuosity.  Rather, his carvings are very simple, sobre and avoid excess of ornament.  Absent therefore are the elaborate frames, patterns, the labyrinth of folds. etc.  He also creates what I would call a "western Orthodox art", and so without simply copying Russian or Greek traditions, he reaches into them, adding earlier Byzantine sensibilities with the Western Romanesque.  This seems to be something of a theme with Orthodox artists living outside the usual Orthodox fiefs.    And that is a subject for my next post.


http://www.aidanharticons.com
http://www.aidanhart.co

While traveling in Ethiopia, I had the chance to acquire some very nice carvings.  In the city of Axum, where the fabled Ark of the Covenent is said to be kept, I encountered a slew of steatite icons and sculptures of which the picture on the left is an example.  It is an image of st-George killing the dragon done is a very typical Ethiopian style. The faces are round and without expression, the eyes are wide-open and very hieratic.  In general there is a high level of abstraction and almost a naive sense about the image.  We can see St-George killing the dragon, surrounded by soldiers.  The young lady he is saving appears climbing a tree just above the horse's head.  At the top are two cherubs.  

I also aquired a very beautiful blessing cross covered in geometric chip-carving.  It is quite stunning and detailed, carved on both sides with little doors under which icons are found.  

My time in Axum was amazing.  I had the chance to meet the old guardian of the Ark.  As we exchanged briefly through a translator, he asked if there was something he could do for me.  Realizing I had a small icon I had carved, I asked him to bless it for me, which he did.   
Upon returning from Ethiopia, I carved an image of the meeting of the Queen of Sheba with King Solomon (at the bottom of this post) , an encounter which according to Ethiopian tradition produced a son who is understood as the first of the Ethiopian Solomonic Dynasty of kings.  

From our previous post, we hope it has become clear that according to ancient thought, symbolism is not a literary genre or simply a method of interpretation.  It is rather a process that ontologically links things to each other, finally converging into God Himself who is all in all!  Of course this process can be seen and experienced and it is in this way that it can then become a way of reading and meditating on the Bible or other traditional texts.

True symbols can to a certain extent be multiple in meaning, for, as st-Maximos points out, all things contain a multitude of logoi held in common with others things. A dog for example contains a logos in common with other dogs as both are of the same species, but a dog can also be “black” or “fierce” or “faithful” which it can have in common with other beings. Yet if symbols can have multiple references, they are no less objective and not in any way subjective.  There is nothing creative or imaginary about true symbolism, but the science of symbolism is rather an understanding of, and a participation in how things work, or more specifically how they exist, for “the spiritual world is present in the world of the senses in symbols, and the world of the senses in the spiritual world in the logoi that constitute it[1]”.  As we have tried to point out, symbolism is neither an abstract notion, nor some allegorical form or another, but it is something very real.

The Ark of the Covenant and the Tabernacle do not “signify” God or His power through some kind of allegory or “substitution”; but rather their “signifying” is the precise power by which God makes Himself present.  For the ark is not simply an arbitrary form, one that could have been traded with anything else, such as a pair of sandals or a pink flamingo. Rather, its form was by its very nature revealed as being God-bearing in the proper circumstance, and was therefore objectively, through its very elements and its analogical quality, the seat of His Glory.   All of creation, in very much the same way, is a symbol, each thing according to its nature, although much of it has become veiled by our trespasses and our incapacity to pierce the outer shell of phenomenon. 

History is also symbolic, especially the sacred history in the Bible.  It must be said though, that the biblical question of historicity must be reversed from the modern historical methods, and leads away from inadequate questions that have sadly ravaged Christianity.  The principle in which our understanding of the Bible is anchored should not be the historical one but the spiritual one.  This does not mean that the historical pole is negated, neglected or even that there is a unbridgeable gap between the two, for Christianity is necessarily a historical religion through the very fact of the incarnation.  This does however mean that it is the spiritual, which is transhistorical, that is the cause, the logos and therefore the standard for the historical.  The importance of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob resides not in proving that they lived in this or that century or this or that culture, or whether according to “recent findings” they existed at all.  Their importance is in what God has revealed to us in being the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.  Our sacred history should be interpreted first and foremost by the weight of its meaning and not through some bronze statuette or some other random artifact found somewhere in the desert causing some “historian of religions” to erect a theory which will become obsolete with the next found random artifact…

We even dare say it is not foremost that Christ was nailed to the cross, but rather that this symbol was the meeting of heaven and earth by which we are all saved.  If the act of crucifixion had not caused salvation by its form, then it would have been as important to mention as when a grain of sand stuck to the soles of Christ’s sandals.  The events described in the Gospels were inspired and described in a manner through which they effectively concentrate the reality of the incarnation.  The Gospels do not mention Christ scratching himself or getting his hair cut since these events do not symbolize, that is, they do not concentrate as effectively what it is that Christ IS or what He came to accomplish.    In the Bible, it is the very fact that an event can be symbolic of a heavenly truth that gives this event any form of reality.  It is not the other way around, for events are not, contrary to popular belief, stable and objective things in themselves, but are themselves symbolic, that is held together by and around a center of meaning, a logos.  This logos is what is in fact objective about them.  Without this center, events fragment and scatter into endless details, finally turning to dust[2]. Meaning is the “life” of an event, that which organizes its existence, without which comes decomposition, “For the spirit vivifies, but the letter kills”.   This means that in the Bible, there are no details!  There is nothing in the Bible that is there for arbitrary reasons, or “just because it happened that way”.  When the Bible systematically calls Joshua the son of Nun, it is not only because his father’s name was Nun. It is not mentioned that his tunic was blue or that his beard was short or that his mother’s name was so-and-so although these other details could also have been mentioned.  In fact, the Bible does mention such things for other characters, and when it does, it means that it is relevant to the understanding of the text just as the name of Joshua’s father is relevant as well. 

                It is only within the past few centuries that the notion has arisen of a “description” in a text, a description which can be there for arbitrary reasons, simply for a desire to be “accurate”, to create a mood, or for “literary freedom”.  None of this is in the Bible or in any ancient religious literature for that matter.  There is very little in common between the Psalms and Byron’s poems, or between the Book of Judges and a novel by Zola.

There are two serious errors regarding Biblical symbolism and its relation to the created world.  The first error, made by certain types of “conservative” people, is believing that everything in the Bible is “True”.  Now when they say “true”, they do not mean that everything in the Bible is an accurate portrayal of the nature of things, a portrayal of God and His creation, a portrayal which can lead, through meditation and prayer, to experiencing God.  What they mean by “True” is that what is written in the Bible “happened”.  And on this “happening”, a “happening” seen as a kind of factual journalistic event, resides all their faith.  These people are so convinced that what is in the Bible is historical, that they will tend to deny to different degrees the symbolic meaning of the Biblical text.  They will not ask themselves why there are 2 fish and 5 loaves, why Christ uses mud to heal the blind man or why it is Moses and Elijah who appeared at the Transfiguration.  They will simply see a description of what “happened”. In symbolism, they see a kind of subjective projection of the human psyche and a possibility of interpreting the text in any which way.

The second error, made by certain types of “liberal” people is seeing symbolism or “archetypes” in the Bible, and using this to demonstrate that the text is “allegorical”, that Christ’s resurrection is “symbolic” and therefore didn’t happen.  It is a story, a myth. Their notion of “happening” is the same as the first group, only, because they see symbolism, they deny the “happening” of the events in the text.  This group also sees symbolism as a subjective projection of the human psyche, only they revel in this, interpreting the text as they please and often even relativising the importance of the Bible itself. 

Both of the errors we mentioned are caused by a severe split, even an opposition between the spiritual and the physical world, the error of believing in an independent creation functioning according to its own rules, rules that are purely mechanical and grossly material. Here there is no reconciliation, no contact. The symbolism is torn from its realist ground. Speaking in more theological terms, it is a severe split, even opposition, between Christ’s human and divine natures.   Rather than giving in to these errors,  we can and should recapture the ancient reading of Scripture, that of St-Gregory of Nyssa, of St-Basil, Of St-Ireneus, of St-Maximos the Confessor. This ancient reading views the events described in Scripture, not as empty mechanical happenings, not as fanciful human allegories, but as Divine revelations bursting with spirit and meaning, icons of heaven for those who through a life of love and prayer,  have the capacity to see.


[1] St-Maximos quoted in Louth, p.75

[2] This can now be seen with great clarity in something like sub-atomic science, which refusing to search for the logoi through a synthetic approach like ancient sciences, was led through analytical methods into the inevitable chaos of statistical « potentiality ». This is truly our return to the dust… This can also be seen in the explosion of historical discourses, multiplying « particular » points of view until all points of view lose their validity.

Rashid and Inessa Azbuhanov, a Russian couple, are in my opinion, some of the most impressive icon carvers alive.  With the very purpose of revivifying the art of icon carving, they create works of jaw-dropping beauty, almost like wooden lace, with intricate patterns carved into elegant folds of clothing.  

They are said to take up to two months to create a single icon, and their work is so expensive, it is only accessible to the very elite of society.  Their pieces trickle into the collections of the Pope of Rome, the Patriarch of Moscow, the President and Prime-Minister of Russia as well as several European royal families.  Although it is sad to see their work go to hidden rooms of private collections, they no less set the bar for the rest of us, and they set it very high indeed. 

http://www.azbuhanov.ru/
http://artinvestment.ru/en/news/exhibitions/20090317_gtg_azbuhanovi.html

“Symbolism” is a term that has become quite diluted in the past 500 years. Since the middle ages, the notion of the symbol has undergone a deep mutation which is informed by immeasurable changes within our experience of knowledge and meaning.  Symbolism has been progressively reduced from informing our very cosmological world view, to now being a form of “signifying”, like the little man on the door of the lavatory or a traffic sign with its shapes and color.  There is an exteriority, a non-participation between the symbol and the signified meaning.  So for example, when Reformers said that the Eucharistic bread “symbolized” the body of Christ, they were implying a separation between the two rather than a union of the two.  This vision of symbolism has not always been so, and one of the great thinkers of the early Church, Saint-Maximos the Confessor, will help us find that more ancient meaning.

Looking at the word « symbol », one can already gather what the original understanding was.  The Greek word symbol means a « meeting » or « gathering ». We call a “symbol of faith” that which is a bringing together of the essential elements of what we believe. The most outstanding use of the notion of « symbol » in the new testament, very much in the sense we will be looking at, appears in Luke 2:19:  « Mary kept all these things, and pondered (from « sumballo », « gathered » might be another possible translation) them in her heart ».  We will in fact see that “to gather in the heart” is one of the most adequate definitions of symbolism we could come up with.

A symbol in the true sense of the word is not a « substitution » for something, a sign merely pointing to something else through resemblance or through an arbitrary consensus.  A symbol, properly understood, is only a sign pointing to something, a principle, in the sense that it concentrates that principle in a direct way, makes it manifest.   And a symbol, being a concentration and manifestation is also a participation in the thing it symbolizes.  The Church is a symbol of Christ in the sense that Christ is the Principle (he is the head, kephale, in Greek) and the Church is his Body (In fact the word “church” or: “ekklesia” means nothing else than a meeting) and so it is both a manifestation or “condensation” of and a participation in the head.  In this understanding,  symbolism is not opposed to realism, rather it is realism itself.  Saint Maximos tells us“…for he who starting from the spiritual world sees appear the visible world or else who sees appear symbolically the contour of spiritual things freeing themselves from visible things... that one does not consider anything of what is visible as impure, because he does not find any irreconcilable contradiction with the ideas of things. [1]”.

Ultimately, a symbol is the meeting place of two worlds, the meeting of the will of God with His creation. Saint-Paul tells us that «…since the creation of the world, (Gods) invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead… ».  The symbol is that place in created things where one can see the heavens, making what is on earth like what is in heaven.  That « place » is a theophany, it is seeing a glimpse of God working through creation. 

The “bringing together” that underpins the theophany is the very reconciliation in Christ of which saint-Paul speaks in 2Cor.5,  “...all things are of God, who has reconciled us to Himself through Jesus Christ…” for “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself…”.  Although in translations, the emphasis is often put on people, the text speaks of ALL THINGS for “if anyone (or anything) is in Christ, he (or it) is a new creation…”   This point of contact between creation and the divine of which we have been speaking is what is often known as the « divine spark », the logos by which that very created thing exists, and by grasping it one can seize that things ultimate meaning, its « simple nature », as well as its place in creation.  So what is a logos, what are logoï?  The logos is the quality of something which is simple and unified, its spiritual reason, bringing together specific modalities through a “communion” of what is eclectic and dispersed into something which is one.  The logos of something could be seen as the “essence” of that thing in God from all eternity.  Saint-Maximos explains that we are able to “understand how everything in the universe is separated one from another in an orderly manner in accordance with the logoi in which each thing consists by the ineffable One who holds and protects everything in accordance with unity.”[2] 

The person of Jesus Christ then is in fact the ultimate symbol, for in Him lies the very fullness of the concentration of meaning in a form, showing us God while revealing the very essence of Man.  He is the type of the Father and the archetype of Man, “reconciling all things” to the Father.  This mystery can be seen in the function and even in the form of the cross, which being the union of the vertical and the horizontal leads to that very point in its center where the symbol finds its source.  “The mystery of the Incarnation of the Logos contains in itself all the meanings of the enigmas and the symbols of the Scriptures, all the signification of creatures visible and invisible. He who knows the mystery of the cross and the tomb knows the logos of things; he who is initiated to the hidden signification to the resurrection knows the purpose for which God from the beginning created everything."[3]”.

The unification just explained is what we mean by symbolism.   Not surprisingly, this process in the created world, for saint-Maximos, happens in man, whos logos contains in itself all the logoï of the visible creation and must unite them in his own logos. He is “the laboratory in which everything is concentrated and in itself naturally mediates between the extremities of each division[4]”.  This communion is always a concentration, as when the radii of a circle are nearer to one another the closer they come to the center, finally converging into a single point.  Therefore man, by concentrating himself, that is by moving towards his own center (heart) also gathers within, though a process of analogy, all of creation, finally giving himself and all that is within him to God through an act of love.  Andrew Louth in his commentary on St-Maximos the Confessor gives a concise description of this process saying that “by ‘a way of life proper and fitting to the Saints’, the human person unites paradise and the oikoumenê to make one earth.  Then, by imitating by virtue the life of the angels, the human person unites heaven and earth.  Then, by being able to perceive the logoi of the created order, the distinction between the intelligible and the sensible falls away.  And finally, by uniting created nature with uncreated nature though love, the coinherence or interpenetration of God and the creation becomes apparent.[5]”  If it is through its analogy to man that creation participates in God, it is by man’s analogy to the Divine Logos, that he participates in the Divine.

That, my friends, is symbolism.

I was once told by an Orthodox Deacon who I admire very much, that if the Catholic believes Christ’s body is REAL in the eucharist, and if protestants believe it is a SYMBOL, the Orthodox believe  it is REAL because it is a SYMBOL.  I think that sums it up quite nicely.


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[1] St-Maximos quoted in Balthazar, « Liturgie Cosmique », (my translation)  “…car celui qui partant du monde spirituel voit apparaître le monde visible ou encore qui voit apparaître symboliquement le contour des choses spirituelles se dégageant des choses apparentes…, celui-là ne considère rien de ce qui est visible comme impur, parce qu’il n’y découvre aucune contraditction inconciliable avec les idées des choses. p.235

[2] St-Maximos quoted in Andrew Louth,  Saint-Maximos The Confessor ». p.113

[3] quoted in Balthazar, (my translation) "Le mystère de l’Incarnation du Verbe contient en soi tout le sens des enigmes et des symbols de l’Écriture, toute la signification des creatures visibles et intelligibles.  Celui qui connaît le mystère de la croix et du tombeau connaît la raison (logos) des choses; celui qui est initié à la signification cachée de la resurrection connaît le but pour lequel Dieu dès le commencement créa le tout" p.210

[4] quoted in Louth, p.73

[5] Andrew Louth, « St-Maximos The Confessor » p.4 

Just as wooden icons became more prevalent in later centuries of the Russian Orthodox Church, carved stone icons became quite common in the Byzantine world between the years 1000-1500.  Here are a few beautiful examples of those early stone icons.

Carved Byzantine icon of Saint-Michael in steatite.  The goldleaf adds a nice touch.  Maybe I should try it.  

Carved byzantine Icon of St-Nicholas in steatite. 

Carved byzantine icon of St-Demetrius in steatite.