On Friday 28 February it is Maria's names day in Sweden, and naturally I want to celebrate us all (one day ahead since I will be occupied tomorrow). It is one of the most common names in Sweden and in the Christian world (so I am not alone), but curiously enough the date is not connected to any of the Marian feasts celebrated by the Church (2 February: the Purification, 25 March: the Annunciation, 2 July: the Visitation, 15 August: Virgin Mary's Ascension, 8 September: Virgin Mary's birth, and 8 December: Virgin Mary's conception). Before the Reformation babies was rarely given the name, even though the tradition of names days are connected to the Christian celebrations of martyrs and saints. The general idea was that the name would put the child under protection of the martyr or saint he/she was named after, and since the Virgin did protect all Christians on so many other levels this was already cared for. The name Maria (or Marie, Mary, Miriam, Maja etc.) has been given different meanings, but "loved " has an origin from ancient Egypt and was transformed to "loved by God" in a Christian context. More surprising is "rebellious" that originates from Moses sister, Miriam, who took brother Aron's side in a fight and therefor was punished with leprosy. I choose love this time with an fourteenth century image of Virgin Mary with Child from Skellefteå parish church. Congratulations from Berit Maria Ann-Catrine!

Sometimes the medieval texts I read really makes me both puzzled and amused. Take this quote of the Belgian monk and theologian Philip of Harveng (d. 1183) regarding God's choice of the Virgin Mary:

"Indeed, it is not believable that God, the Son of God, should choose a mother who was swarthy, one-eyed, conspicuously scrofulous or hunch-backed, instead of having a white face, rosy-colored, with pretty eyes and a beautiful, completely formed body, so that she who was chosen over all other women for such a dignified role should be, not only free from the infection of every vice, but also more beautiful and perfect in her physical appearance than anybody else."

The quote is taken from an anthology with texts of medieval theologians titled Mary in the Middle Ages, ed. Luigi Gambero, 2005 (pp.182-183), and in a footnote the editor comments: "In those days the known world was limited, and the standards of feminine beauty, understandably, reflected European models." Dear me, I am not sure that was less weird — and also patronizing. But the concept of ideal beauty and pureness, and equally its opposite ugliness and sin, are fascinating and not always as easy to detect visually as one could expect. Most Madonnas are stereotypically blond, light skinned, blue eyed and young, but more interesting models can be found. One of my personal favorites are the twelfth century madonna above from Mosjö, Närke (now in the Swedish History Museum collection). But is it really depicting an ugly woman? Perhaps it expresses sadness and grief over the Son's future suffering? Or, why not, a beauty?

Today is Valentine's Day so I want to send out a message of love and hope through a piece by street artist Banksy. It first appeared in London, but is has been painted and reproduced in all kinds of media throughout the world.

Yesterday I heard a really short interview on Swedish Radio with Pope Francis where he expressed despair over global indifference when asked about the situation on Lampedusa. While media and politicians (& almost everybody else)  on a daily basis closely follows the markets in Tokyo, New York and elsewhere, fearing the collapse of capitalism, the human catastrophes of starvation and war generally leave us ignorant. I am not a Catholic, but who cannot agree with him on this issue (even if there can be reason to question his own organization on different levels).

The painting by Banksy might be full of clichés (a little girl representing hope, a heart-shaped ballon representing love, etc.), but if we leave the cynicism behind it is also very emotional and heart-warming. Perhaps this is a day for widening our horizons and start caring about more people than just giving chocolate and red roses to the one we love. In that mode I end this post with another politically infused piece by Banksy.

Yesterday I had a seminar with students on two artists working with body art during the 1960s and 1970s, Vito Acconci and Hannah Wilke. But we also watched a performance by Yoko Ono, the famous Cut Piece filmed in New York in 1965. You can see the same 8 minutes of the performance here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYJ3dPwa2tI

The performance is simple when it comes to the implementation. The artists is sitting on the stage floor with a pair of scissors in front of her, and she is asking the audience to walk up on the stage and cut off a piece of her clothing. One by one people comes up to her and do this; some takes larger pieces than others, mostly they do this fast and silently, but some gets cheered and others feel the need to make a comment. When I first saw this film it felt slightly uneasy, since there seems to be so much tensions in the room. There is a sense of voyeurism that might come from the fact that I am watching it filmed, and not being part of the performance. And because of this I do not know who the people in the audience are. Are they fellow artists or friends of Ono? Is there some kind of hierarchy in the room that ranks the order of  the participation in the piece? I can only watch and listen to what happens, and the focus of the camera is very much on the reactions of Yoko Ono. She tries not to interact, but sometimes she seems amused, and sometimes she looks plain worried.

Yoko Ono did this performance for the first time in Tokyo in 1964, it became more famous when it was staged in New York and then she did it in other places. The reactions and interactions varied between the performances. In London it is reported to have become more violent, and she needed security. A performance of this kind can be read as a game or a play, where the result is the sum of the participants contributions. This piece becomes an investigation of how the audience interacts in a situation that can become violent, the moral of the participants is tested. How far will they go in getting a women undressed in a public space? Who will reveal the most of her body? Will any of them do her harm? When commenting on a much later performance of Cut Piece in Paris 2003 Yoko Ono said that is was about trust, and this was as important in post-9/11 times as it was during the 1960s.

On February 6 Sápmi celebrates its National day. Sami culture is very much a part of the Umeå 2014: European Capital of Culture, and many exhibitions will be exposing art from Sami artists. Yesterday I saw this installation 100 Migratory by Monica L. Edmonson at the Västerbottens Museet and it was very emotional. It actually hurt to see the broken vessel among 99 others.  All in warm red, like hearts glowing in the snow (white background). This is a part of a larger art project where the glass vessels have been traveling, first in Sápmi then over the world, and the journey have been documented in photos and film. When seeing the vessels in this larger context, the vulnerability turned to feelings of hope and belief in the common experiences of humans. For more on this art project, please visit its homepage:  http://100migratory.wordpress.com/100-migratory-what-why-and-where/