And the earth was without forme, and voyd, and darkenesse was vpon the face of the deepe: and the Spirit of God mooued vpon the face of the waters.

Genesis 1.2

Creazione di Adamo—a vignette of the moment of Adam’s creation. The fresco beginning with Adam lying naked on a hill, limbs as still as a statue of Párian marble, his left-arm passively reaching up, index finger poised to touch the right-hand of Yahweh. The composition continuing on diagonal axis to Yahweh, depicted floating in the air, eyes locked to Adam, clothed in white tunic, enveloped in what appears blushing red, surrounded by persons in various stages of development and postures, one in particular under his left arm echoing a lover’s triangle, his left index finger seemingly pointing to the Christ Child, whose eyes appearing trained on the viewer, his right index finger pointing to Adam—whose posture in retrospect appearing to mirror Yahweh. The velvet envelop resembling at once uterus and brain, reproductive organs of the body. Adam’s eyes, though this is apparent only on very close examination, appearing empty in contrast to the eyes of the three central figures in the velvet envelop—the Father, the Spirit, and the Christ Child.

The active and passive elements bifurcated between the hill, anchoring the passive elements, and the velvet envelop, encapsulating active elements. Adam appearing to reflexively mirror Yahweh, and then too with strained effort, betraying a decided lack of agency. Adam recalling in the supine posture an infant looking upon the face of a familiar if imposing presence. Rather within the Genesis narrative it is ever Eve, the second born, the feminine principle, the female gaze that lends levity to creation. Beauty, as is often remarked, is in the eyes of the beholder. The first story of creation perfunctory and didactic in its explication of the beginning and the end: And God saw euery thing that hee had made: and behold, it was very good. It is only in the second story, which Jewish exegetes hold consanguineous with the first, that creation acquires weight. And then too, only when Eve sees that tree was good for the food. A choice Christian orthodoxy sees as bad, but on whose merit creation comes to acquire the quality of not merely good but very good. The conventional wisdom belying a nearsightedness, to what Allah speaks in the Qur’an, ‘[i]ndeed, I know that which you do not know.’ It is perhaps in that vein the composition imagining Yahweh, in seeming opposition to reason, straining to reach Adam, who bearing his likeness, as if to resolve an existential crisis. The in utero depiction positing God a demiurge in the making. The multiplicity of Forms, the Christ Child, in particular, suggesting a power inherent in creation, a waiting deliverance. The pointed index fingers recalling Yahweh’s declaration, “I am that I am.” 

The kinetic distance between Adam and Yahweh symbolizing the chasm separating noumena, exemplified by the spirit of Yahweh, and phenomena, exemplified by the body of Adam. The impossibility of their conjoining seemingly conveyed by the two occupying separate planes existence—Adam depicted along the XY plane whereas Yahweh depicted along the XZ plane. The Father-Son complex recalling the paradox of identification between subject and object that prefiguring the Fall of Man. A mimesis from which following the desire to engage in creation in competition with the Father. A desire born out by the serpent’s promise: yee shall bee as Gods, knowing good and euill. The fresco recreating, by its unwavering fidelity to the source, the homoerotic undertones of the relationship between an omnipotent creator and creation. The composition echoing the Song of Songs in the depiction of longing between star-crossed lovers. Yahweh straining to touch Adam—who created in his own image, though the star crossed lovers frustrated by the imaginal distance. The Yahweh and Adam united by their wistful gaze and yet divided by the unbridgeable divide. The space constituting a potentiality—a field with a + on one side and – on the other. A state of permanent ecstasy. That makes eyes play tricks, and makes the tree look good for food, and pleasant to the eyes, and to be desired to make one wise.

The genitive Mother—the unfathomable face of the deepe, depicted in manner becoming of the infinite: in the subtle. Whereas Yahweh is depicted in gross detail, the Creatrix is only ever teased. In the fine details of the stream running on the side of the hill, the conspicuous navel on Adam, and the faint Echo of the feminine in the figure under the left arm Yahweh. The figure variously identified as Eve, the Virgin Mary, and the Goddess Sophia. Though if one were to consider the figure as the proverbial Yin within the Yang—one is inclined to favor the figure is the Virgin Mary, because within the Christian pantheon Adam prefigures the fall of man, and the Virgin Mary augurs the redemption. The Catholic doctrine of the Dormition of Mary—that the Virgin Mary ascended body and soul to Heaven further lending credence the figure is the Virgin Mary. Pope John II more recently declaring in his encyclical Redemptoris mater, “at the centre of this mystery, in the midst of this wonderment of faith, stands Mary.” Significantly within the composition, Yahweh is depicted hanging from the figure in mirror image of Adam bracing against the hill—the topography of the earth mimicking the folds on the velvet envelop. That if Adam is the imaginal representation of the Heavenly Father, the figure is the metaphorical representation of Mother Earth. The feminine constituting the substratum on which the kosmos rendering.

The effect of the image one of awe, particularly when viewed firsthand in the Sistine Chapel. The overhead position of the fresco obliging the viewer to arch their head back as if to look up at the night sky. The spellbinding imagery drowning out the Echo from the throngs of visitors. The negative space in the Sistine Chapel amplifying the sense of smallness in the viewer. A feeling heightened by the Christ Child’s gaze connecting the viewer to the composition. The Christ Child’s eyes whispering as if to the viewer ’you are part of this creation.’ The effect though waning when viewed secondhand from without, the viewer drawn to the lateral details: the way the imagery sublimates the source material, how the fidelity to physical forms lends a sense of realism, the subtle allusions to the story of Narcissus. The cracks at once intruding on the reality of the imagery and merging with the scene to relate the march of time.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

1. Michelangelo. Creazione Di Adamo. 1512. Fresco. Sistine Chapel, Vatican.
2. The Holy Bible, 1611 Edition: King James Version. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2011. Print.
3. Ovidius Naso, Publius. Metamorphoses. Translated by D. A. Raeburn, London: Penguin, 2004, p. 107. Print.
4. Aristotle. Aristotle's Poetics. Translated by S. H. Butcher, New York: Hill and Wang, 1961. Print.
	Tragedy, then, is a process of imitating an action which has serious implications, is complete, and possesses magnitude; by means of language which has been made sensuously attractive, with each of its varieties found separately in the parts; enacted by the persons themselves and not presented through narrative; through a course of pity and fear completing the purification (catharsis, sometimes translated "purgation") of such emotions.
5. Pope John Paul II (March 25, 1987). "Redemptoris mater". The Holy See. Rome.