Jan Matejko’s Skarga’s Sermon: A Flawed Masterpiece Misunderstood?
Kazanie Skargi or Skarga’s Sermon, Kawaart via Wikimedia Commons, part of the Royal Castle’s Collection in Warsaw.
Jan Matejko, a highly acclaimed Polish painter born in 1838, is widely recognised as one of the most prominent figures of Polish art. His oeuvre is populated with grand historical scenes that capture the spirit and struggles of the Polish nation. Through his works, he aimed to instil national pride and awaken historical consciousness among his compatriots during periods of political subjugation, with the ultimate goal of having a positive impact on his beloved country.
Jan Matejko’s painting Skarga’s Sermon is undoubtedly one of his most famous works, proudly occupying a prominent place in Polish art history. And while it was hailed as a significant achievement by some, critical examination reveals multiple shortcomings - if not mistakes - in the painting’s execution and reception. Matejko was very much like an over-ambitious and slightly detached Cambridge supervisor – trying to cram a huge quantity of historical knowledge, highly specific references, and hidden innuendos into their debate – hoping that not only will we understand but also engage. More often than not, we just simply nod along, not really understanding the onslaught of overtly expert jargon. And that is precisely how Matejko’s viewers feel.
During the late 16th and early 17th century, Piotr Skarga, a Jesuit priest and orator from Poland, delivered sermons that had a profound impact on Polish society. When Skarga gave one of these sermons in 1597 in Kraków, he forcefully emphasised the crucial importance of national unity and the dire need for moral and religious renewal in Poland. Skarga called upon the Polish nobility, clergy, and common people to work together resolutely for the betterment of their country. He did not shy away from critiquing the vices and shortcomings of Polish high society at that time, such as corruption, greed, and moral decay among the ruling class. Indeed, he preached with conviction about the significance of virtue, piety, and Christian values as the foundation for a just and prosperous nation. He strongly urged the nobility to use their power and influence for the common good and to protect the interests of the Polish state during a fragile and unstable period.
As for Matejko’s artistic interpretation of the scene, it was not just the Poles who struggled to fully understand the piece – foreign viewers couldn’t wrap their heads around the painting’s subject matter at all. During its exhibition at one of the Parisian Salons in 1865, the painting was widely criticized for its ambiguous subject matter, despite its success back home. This, at least for me, makes sense – surely Matejko was a bit too ambitious in expecting foreigners to have a deep understanding of the tangled, ever-changing Polish history? I myself have lost count of how many times I struggled to fully appreciate a piece simply because it’s impossible to know the context of every work. Just like the previously mentioned eager supervisor, Matejko’s reliance on his viewer to have a great deal of contextual knowledge prevented the piece from reaching its full potential.
In essence, the painting is primarily centred on the cautions of the prominent Jesuit preacher Skarga, as he warns of the factors that were contributing to the gradual decline of the Polish Republic. Matejko aimed to encapsulate an entire epoch by incorporating specific events and significant figures, impregnating the painting with one after another. Unfortunately for Matejko (and us), this process of rendering historical matters into generalities disregards the artist’s (grand) intentions and lessens the viewer’s engagement with the work.
Despite being a masterpiece that exudes complexity and depth, the strength of Matejko’s painting lies not in his ability to depict tangled historical issues but rather in his skill in stirring patriotic emotions within the viewer. Protagonists with overwhelming personalities and their expressions full of feelings and intricacy create an emotional bond that resonates with viewers, though as a result overshadow the historical depth and intellectual engagement Matejko intended to convey.
Although the painting enjoyed popularity among art enthusiasts, it took a quarter of a century before someone took on the task of providing a systematic interpretation of it.
Jarosław Krawczyk’s analysis delves deep into the painting’s ideological framework, highlighting (as well as spelling out, of course), its historical and philosophical message of stigmatising past faults and calling for repentance. As always, though Krawczyk’s analysis remains insightful, it is not all-encompassing and leaves a lingering question as to whether Matejko intended to passively dwell on past faults or actively seek national improvement.
Nevertheless, Skarga’s Sermon serves as a prophetic work that judges Polish history and offers a stern admonishment to the ruling class. Matejko masterfully attempted to reveal the profound truth of Polish history and its mission within the divine plan of God, yet the message is somewhat lost in its vast richness and complexity. Indeed, this complexity leads us astray as the painting’s message remains elusive, keeping us in the dark as to the true meaning of this revolutionary work.
Unfortunately, the painting’s potential historical, philosophical, and national impact is hindered as both domestic and foreign viewers continue to scratch their heads in confusion, which certainly isn’t synonymous with patriotic or intellectual redemption and atonement!