Appreciating the Extraordinary El Greco

The Metropolitan Museum of Art's recently opened exhibition titled "El Greco" (which runs through January 11, 2004) has no colon after the artist's name. No amplification is needed, or even possible. The Greek artist who was born Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614) transcends any adjectives, and refuses to be bounded by time period or style. Presumably the Spaniards in Toledo, where he moved in 1576, couldn't pronounce his name and called him simply "the Greek." The name stuck. And so he is known to this day, part of the pantheon of the greatest artists of all times.

The Adoration of the Shepherds (c. 1612-14). Oil on canvas.)

His art is so extraordinary that you might have thought it sprang fully formed, out of nowhere. Indeed, many during his time (and for several centuries after his death) attributed his strange art to astigmatism or other vision problems. This show, however, dispels (or at least modifies) any such notions, by demonstrating a connection that runs from the artist's earliest Greek icon paintings (before 1567) through his Italian years (from 1570 to 1576) and his mature life in Toledo (from 1567) until his death in 1614.

The early paintings, though damaged, provide evidence of the art of a young icon painter, working in the flat style of his time but already looking ahead, introducing Italian Renaissance perspective into his work. It is not long before he plunges into deep space. The exhibit includes several vertiginous versions of Christ Healing the Blind (c. 1570-75) and The Purification of the Temple (1570-1610). In the mid-1570s version of the latter (Cat. No. 7; collection of the Minneapolis Institute of Art), he portrays in the lower right-hand corner four artists, as a kind of footnote to his sources: Titian, Michelangelo, Giulio Clovio, and Raphael.

Thus begins the odyssey into the famed dynamic, abstract spaces teeming with twistings and turnings, brimming with weird and ecstatic color and light. In El Greco's art, unearthly beauty often vies with earthy loveliness. Contrast is constant: between the supernatural and reality, the mystical and rational. Space and time take on new meanings never before dreamed of. And El Greco (like the timeless contemporary that he is) leaps out of all categorization, into our eyes, our minds, our psyches. He is simply unforgettable.

It is difficult to single out a few works from this 70-work exhibition, the first major retrospective of the artist in more than 20 years. There are no bad paintings in this meticulously put-together show. Though it can certainly qualify as a blockbuster, its size, for once, is exactly right.

The Adoration of the Name of Jesus (c. 1577-9, Cat. No. 22) is staggering, with its extremes of darkness at the bottom of the canvas and light at the top, made even more dizzying by its criss-crossed composition. Here the supernatural representation of purgatory (the scene is poised between Heaven and Hell) is coupled with a celebratory, historical painting of the victory of the Catholic forces in Venice over the heathen Turks at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571.

The Adoration of the Name of Jesus (c. 1577-79). Oil on canvas.

Likewise, the light emitted by Christ and the angel amid the swirling centrifugal forces of ovals and triangles in the highly abstract Agony in the Garden (c. 1600-05, Cat. No. 35) dazzles both eyes and mind. The unearthly light of faith radiates out from chaos and depression. Though his disciples and even God seem to have forsaken him, Christ stands firm, his steadfastness punctuated by the rock behind him. Whether or not you share Christian theology, the message shines forth: From darkness and uncertainty emerge positive, creative energy and hope.

Reunited here, Saint Martin and the Beggar (1597-99, Cat. No. 38) and Virgin and Child With Saints (Cat. No. 39) originally hung beside each other in the Capilla de San Jose in Toledo. The paintings relate to each other in their display of earthly loveliness in the features of the Madonna, child, and saints; the gentle beauty of the horse; and in Saint Martin and the landscape of Toledo beneath. Next to the Saint Martin, a wall label with a reproduction of Picasso's Boy Leading a Horse from New York's MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) confirms Picasso's fascination with his earlier compatriot's work

Some El Grecos I had never seen before include three versions of an allegory of a boy lighting a candle (Cat. Nos. 63, 64, and 65). In one of them, an ape and a fool are featured. The strange, candle-illuminated faces emerge from pitch darkness, intent and intense (and resembling each other), foreshadowing scenes by the Baroque painters Caravaggio and Georges de la Tour. The artist surely painted this for educated, literate patrons who would have understood its meaning, perhaps warning humankind against the machinations of the likes of these three.

Saint Peter (early 1610s). Oil on canvas. (Photos courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Remarkable in this exhibit too are several pieces of sculpture, either designed by El Greco or actually made by him. Many deeply introspective and observant portraits add to the variety and down-to-earth psychological perception of the artist.

One of the most overwhelming pieces in the show is the 1612-14 Adoration of the Shepherds (Cat. No. 62), made at the end of his life, and intended for his own tomb. As in so many of El Greco's works, there is a division between earth and heaven in this nocturnal scene. The precipitous perspective and weightlessness defy credibility. Flame-like light flickers throughout the painting, perhaps coming from the tiny Christ child suspended almost magically in the center. But at the same time, the painting is so real that the nearest shepherd may be a self-portrait.

Be prepared to be overwhelmed; there may be crowds. But unlike the Leonardo da Vinci show last year, the works are mostly large-scale. Do not miss this opportunity; El Greco is unique. There is no other artist like him. Musicality and dance-like, dramatic qualities are what one most remembers from this exemplary exhibition of the art that influenced modernists such as Matisse, Marc, Picasso, and Pollock.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art is at 82nd Street and Fifth Avenue. Hours are Friday and Saturday, 9:30 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sunday and Tuesday-Thursday, 9:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m.

Art historian Greta Berman has been on the liberal arts faculty since 1979.