After the two resurrections that set him an example, Jesus himself could not be left behind, of course. Let’s look at Rembrandt van Rijn’s finest work on the matter, a painting that the mushroom itself pointed out to me yesterday. I had eaten a hat, felt the rush coming on, and Amanita pointed me to the Lethe of my facebook timeline, where a painting suddenly floated by. Look at that painting, she said.
What surprised me first of all is that I never saw this painting before. Seemingly it managed to slip from my attention, but that is peculiar, because I honestly think it is one of the most beautiful works I know by van Rijn.
Of course, I don’t need to point out to my attentive audience that that ‘hat’ is by no means the hat a gardener would wear, and that the colours and the shovel once again point in a certain direction. Mary Magdelena addresses the resurrected Jesus in Aramaic as ‘Rabboni’ meaning ‘teacher’. A Mushroom Teacher.
What a knave, that Rembrandt. He knew it all back in the sixteenth century. So Rembrandt was one of Amsterdam’s first dandies, which you wouldn’t really guess from his vinegary paintings. But he fit all the characteristics: wearing expensive, hip clothes, spending money like water, art collection and extremely expensive homes, only in terms of mind-altering substances the annals remain a bit blank.
Perhaps this work has been delegated a little to the sidelines as a ‘ less important work’ because it waxes a little less that typical vinegar-alcohol atmosphere that the bigwigs like to see? Oh no, that’s just a bit too paranoid for me – after all, it does hang in the Mauritshuis.
But it is a strange work, in fact Rembrandt’s strangest work. Just look at the perspectives: why is that hedge at the bottom of the painting so strangely small, as if Jesus and Mary were two giants? Why is that angel doing a split? Surely that is a particularly peculiar way to depict an angel?
Perhaps this work has been relegated to the sidelines a bit as a ‘ less important work’ because it waxes a bit less of that typical vinegar-alcohol atmosphere that the bigwigs like to see? Oh no, that’s just a bit too paranoid for me – after all, it does hang in the Mauritshuis.
But it is a strange work, in fact Rembrandt’s strangest work. Just look at the perspectives: why is that hedge at the bottom of the painting so strangely small, as if Jesus and Mary were two giants? Why is that angel doing a split? Surely that is a particularly peculiar way to depict an angel?
Why does Jesus have a dagger attached to his tabard? To cut mushrooms with?
Why the huge Twin towers in the background, is that supposed to represent Babylon? And who are those two striking figures in the shadows below, one with another mushroom hat? And that figure dressed as death alongside, who is that?
Questions, questions that I don’t think will be answered. But I think we can all agree that it is a very strange painting, and I have saved the most striking detail for last: look at that giant tree. That’s not just any tree.
That is an oak tree at least a thousand years old. A thousand-year-old oak and ‘resurrected Jesus’ beneath it dressed in the colours and shapes of our empress mushroom, addressed as a teacher’. I had not fathomed that I would become a fan of Rembrandt van Rijn’s psychedelic works so late in life.
What is comical about the so-called ‘occult spheres’ is that all discussion about this painting so far has focused on whether that vase at Mary’s feet would possibly be ‘the holy grail’, because if you knew how to catch and drink Jesus’ blood then you would live forever. Yup. How obvious can you make it for everyone, I sometimes think. I would also do a split if I were an Angel if some pudgy alcoholic started painting me.
Martinus 14-04-2023 – from: ‘Amanita Muscaria – The Book of the Empress’ due june 2023
