Clicking through my photos this morning, I realised there’s someone I haven’t introduced you to yet: Our Lady of Perpetual Help, or as they call her here, Nuestra Señora del Perpetuo Socorro. Not that I actually knew who she was until a few months ago…
In an attempt to get to grips with all the virgins, saints and angels in Recoleta Cemetery, I started collecting the small laminated cards they sell in the religious shops and outside the church next to the cemetery. One that particularly caught my eye portrayed said version of the Virgin Mary, with her exotic garb, ornate crown-cum-halo and mysterious lettering. I was intrigued by the representation of Jesus in scaled-down form, as if he’d drunk the potion in Alice in Wonderland.
Once I was aware of this Mary, I began to see her all over the place – in the cemetery, that is. It’s like when someone mentions a really famous person you’ve never heard of (happens to me a lot) and then you see and hear their name everywhere. I certainly feel that having the card helped draw her to me.
This is the first of the windows that yielded an interesting reflection. The arch across the street stacks pleasingly inside that of the stained glass, framing Mary’s torso and forming a doorway into her mystical presence, while the cross nestles significantly against her neck.
In case you were wondering, this is a Byzantine-style depiction of Mary with the Divine Child, which apparently dates back to a 13th century painting. The Greek letters, most of which are visible here, form the abbreviations for Mother of God, Jesus Christ and the archangels Michael and Gabriel, who are hovering at each side.
Now I think of it, perhaps Jesus hasn’t been shrunk down, but rather Mary has been scaled up, to show her power as all-embracing mother.
For more information on Our Lady of Perpetual Help, visit this fabulous website: http://saints.sqpn.com/our-lady-of-perpetual-help/
I was born in Montreal in 1967, grew up in England and live between London and Buenos Aires. Like many, I came to Buenos Aires to dance tango and fell under the spell of this city where strangers talk to you, tango music seeps on to the streets and the ornate crumbling buildings speak of grander times. I love writing and crafting words – I've worked as a sub-editor for more than 20 years – and taking photographs.
Hi Julie
Funnily enough, before I read the commentary I didnt perceive the shape of the arch reflection as such. I saw it as the divine light of God shining upon and into them both. Now I know its an arch thats all my mind will let me see 😉
Love
Caroline
Caroline, wow – an amazing vision of my photo… An argument for not trying to help people understand how I arrive at the images!