Xul Solar

Someone once unkindly but not inaccurately described surrealism as "the rotting corpse of Western art." The surrealist fetishism of the lower realms of the human psyche was at the cost of forgetting the higher and more noble reaches of the human state. The dripping clocks and the bloated significance ascribed to the trvial contents of undistinguished dreams was the indulgence of Freudian fadism. The supposed "discovery of the unconscious" overshadowed the loss of the super-conscious. Salvador Dali, after all, was just an over-rated landscape painter. 

It is unfortunate therefore that the Argentine artist Xul Solar is usually counted as a surrealist and that the content of his work is mistaken for an exploration of the motifs of the unconscious. The prominence of Dali imposed a strong surrealist influence upon the Spanish-speaking world, no doubt, and Senor Solar would exhibit his work alongside others who fit more precisely in that category. But in fact he is not a surrealist painter in any proper sense. Stylistically, he is more akin to Kandinsky and Chagall - musicality and playfulness, respectively, are two of the strongest elements in his work - and what is mistaken for surrealist interests in his content is actually a deep and intelligent engagement with esotericism and the occult. The surrealists would sometimes exploit the esoteric and the occult but in this only achieved parody and pastiche. Xul Solar was an esoteric artist, a mystic (although technically speaking this is probably an incorrect label) and a student of the occult imagination in its more traditional sense. It is this that makes him interesting. He is not, like the surrealists proper, just a painter of nightmares. 

His intellectual interests were extensive and he shared many of them with his close friend Jorg Luis Borges. Indeed, he appears in some of Senor Borges' stories and many of the same stories celebrate their shared interests. Largely, we might describe these interests as a fascination with esoteric systems, the most fundamental of such systems being language iteself. Solar was an inventor of imaginary languages. This is reflected in his visual work as well. He develops a visual language of marks and shapes and symbols and lines and colours (without any of the randomness and denial of system that characterizes surrealism.) Where it does not have ignoble motivations the intellectual principle of system is at the root of the occult. Solar was fascinated with language, games, number systems - much to his credit he was a dedicated duodecimalist - and by extension, qabbalah, tarot and above all astrology, the occult language par excellence.  It has often been difficult for the art world to place him correctly: this is because these interests are outside of their usual purview. Fine artists are sometimes dabblers in the occult. Solar is more than that. He is not merely stealing a symbol here and there to impart a spurious aura of mystery: he is an occult artist in the fullest sense. 

His tarot cards are quite charming and are surely one of the better creative renderings of the tarot made in the XXth century. Alongside the traditional symbolism of the arcana, which he renders with a child-like Chargallesque simplicity, he has added elements of his own symbolic developments, qabbalistic and astrological. Here are some samples:

The qabbalistic background to these images is found in his many explicitly qabbalistic drawings and paintings. In Western occultism, as it is normally presented in modern times at least, the Hebrew qabbalah represents a sort of matrix for the varied and sundry symbols of a wide range of esoteric systems. It is a sort of filing system, and of interest for both Solar and Borges for exactly that reason. 

Note in these diagrams how the artist has made the qabbalistic system of ten (spheres) into a system of twelve planes - see the numbering on the sides and note that the numbers extend beyond 1 - 10. Solar was a duodecimalist - an advocate of a base 12 number system. Ordinarily, the qabbalah is a decimal system. Not for Xul Solar. 

As it happens, the present author himself departs from the modern occultists on this point - he would prefer not to match the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet to the twenty-two trumps of the tarot purely because there are twenty-two of each, for example - but that is another matter. Senor Solar stays within that modern convention, and then uses it as the core structure of his art. In his time in Paris in the 1920s, Solar became acquainted with the mad mage Aleister Crowley and his foul-breathed mistress Leah Hirsig, and for a time they groomed him to become a member of their occult 'Orders'. The qabbalistic matrix is the core of Mr Crowley's system too. Sensibly, though, Solar headed back home to South America and apart from that brief encounter was not unduly influenced by the Crowley cult. Certainly, Borges made much better company and offered a far healthier occult intellectuality. We should be thankful for this. Crowley was a parasite who destroyed many fine minds and considerable talents - Victor Neuberg, for instance - and whether he knew it or not at the time Xul Solar saved both his soul and his art by side-stepping the self-styled 'Beast'. 

The influence of Mr Crowley in the modern Western occult is so pervasive today that it is important to identify and celebrate those not under his sway. Xul Solar is one. Just as he is not properly classified as a "surrealist", neither, fortunately, is he an "occultist" in the Crowleyean sense. This is to say that just as he was not a painter of the dross of his own nightmares as were the surrealists, neither was he a cheap purveyor of the 'Dark Arts' like so many Crowley wanna-bes. His art has integrity, and his interest in esoteric systems - like that of Senor Borges - was genuine and elevated. His adopted name, Xul Solar - his real name being 'Oscar Agustín Alejandro Schulz Solari' - signals his benevolent disposition. Xul - a homonymn for 'Schulz' in Spanish - is L.U.X. backwards, the Latin for 'Light'. Xul Solar = the light of the Sun. There is nothing dark or menacing or sinister in the occult art of Xul Solar. He is not an explorer of an underworld. He is, rather, an explorer of the elevated imagination. 

Not all of his work is quite to the present author's taste, but there is a sense of joy and wimpsy and a delight in imagined worlds that characterizes his best paintings, that makes him a modern favorite. There is music and mystery. And like Borges, the city-as-labyrinth - as opposed to the over-worked city-as-distopian-hell-hole - is one of his preferred themes. 

Senor Solar was himself a practising astrologer. Often his astrological charts are exhibited alonside his watercolours and sculptures and treated as works of art in themselves. Here is one:

And here, below, is the present author's rendering of Senor Solar's natal chart according to the methods the author prefers, notably the square chart and the insistence on the seven ancient planets. Without resorting to in-depth analysis, the notable feature of the chart is, surely, the conjunction of the two lights, Sun and Moon, in the midheaven. Solar , that is to say, was born towards noon at a New Moon. As we see in his chart, this configuration is culminating.  In this sort of chart the so-called "angles" reveal all. In this case the native is indeed a 'New Moon' type, and we see at a glance why he went by the name of Xul Solar. 

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Stars and Trumps

Living, as he has, in the lower southern hemisphere for most of his life the present author has a distinctly southern acquaintance with the night sky. At the southern reaches of the Australian continent the stars appear quite different to how they appear at other latitudes, and especially how they appear in the history-rich temperate zone latitudes of the northern hemisphere. During his recent extended travels, therefore, which have taken him through most of Hindoostan, along the Malacca Straits, across western China, around the Japanese islands and then through the east Indies, he has taken every opportunity to study the night sky from the unfamiliar vantage of northern climes. There were some excellent clear nights when he was in the Himalayas, and again in southern Goa, and in parts of Siam, and in the boat from Shanghai to Osaka, and most recently, in the more equitorial zone, on the long sandy beaches of Bali and Lombok. 

The first thing of interest to a southerner is the pole star: a fixture of the heavens lacking in the southern hemisphere but literally pivotal to the workings of the northern sky. Polar mythology is primary in all the great traditions. The pole star is axis mundi, and the way in which the constellations circle it - notably the Dipper, scooping up the waters of Ocean through the seasons - constitutes the essential motifs of Hindoo and Chinese spirituality especially. This fact was underlined for the present author in many temples and sacred places he visited. The symbolism of the pole star and the cosmology centred on the pole star is everywhere. In some Chinese temples it is perfectly explicit; star maps adorn the altars. Even more ubiquitous, seen throughout the whole of Asia, is the sacred symbol of the hyperborean swastika which depicts the Dipper circling the axial centre, as in this diagram:

You cannot see this from the southern hemisphere. The author was happy to see it with his own eyes. Yet the pole star itself, he discovers, is unspectacular. It is surprsingly dim, isn't it? It is hardly a blazing feature of the firmament. Its importance only becomes obvious through sustained stargazing throughout the revolving tides of the year. 

Some things in the northern skyscape, though, are immediately striking. The three bright stars of Orion draw attention, in the right circumstances, to the enduring importance of Sothis, Sirius, the 'Shining One', which is indeed a blazing feature of the firmament and often dominates the night. It is visible in the south too, of course - the brightest star in the heavens the world over - but in the south it is seen from a different (reversed) perspective. The long history of human fascination with Sothis is not difficult to understand. On one night in eastern India it shone like a diamond high above the Arabian Sea, its light reflecting upon the dark, sedate waters. In Lombok, late at night, it was particularly clear, shining with a steady, intense white-blue light under the black silhouettes of hills, cliff tops, forests and volcanos. There is the Sun, the Moon, and then there is Sothis, the so-called Dog Star, which has loomed large in human mythology and starlore since the beginnings of the human adventure. On one occasion on his travels the author saw it in a classical arrangement with the three stars of Orion pointing to its brilliant presence low in the sky during the depths of the night. This is the arrangement of stars that some suppose is alluded to in the Three Kings and Star of Bethlehem story in Christian mythology, as in the picture below. It is not so obvious when seen in southern climes. In the northern hemisphere, at certain times of the year, it is too plain to be overlooked.

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This star-gazing, in turn, has set the author to consideration (exactly the right word, to con + sider, sidereal = star) of one of the key cultural representations of stellar mythology in the western tradition, the Star trump in the tarot. The possibility that the story of the three kings describes a particular arrangement of stars, and that the 'Star in the East' that the kings pursue is Sothis, reminds him that the earliest representations of the Star trump in the tarot depict that mythologem. Thus:

The first question to be answered regarding this tarot card is: what star is it that is being depicted? The most likely answer, surely, is Sothis. Let us note, for start, that this card is one of three that form a set and a sequence, the 'celestial' trumps: The Star, the Moon, the Sun. These seem to be deliberately arranged in the traditional tarot sequence in order of increasing luminosity. The Sun is the brightest object in the sky. Before it comes the Moon, the second brightest. And before the Moon card is The Star, the third brightest object in the sky - in which case it would follow that the star in question is Sothis. 

The identification of the star on the trump with the Star of Bethlehem is made explicit again in some modern tarot designs, such as this:

But it also seems to be the relevant identification in other early designs that show a handsome youth who, in context, is most likely King David (the star being King David's star, Bethlehem indicating the House of David and the Davidic royal line). Thus:

The context of this iconography, of course, is Renaissance Italy and when we compare this crude sketch of a male figure with the classical David we see the resemblance, thus:

To reiterate: these early designs are concerned with the Star of Bethlehem, the Star of David - simple Christian symbolism. When Christians think of stars it is the star that presided over the birth of Christ that must come first to their minds. The earliest tarot designs have this basic Christian meaning. Arguably, the star in question is Sothis, third most luminous object in the sky, and the star to which the "three kings" of "Orion's belt" point.

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At a certain juncture in the development of tarot symbolism, however, this simple Christian symbolism became complicated with a different iconography and the three kings of the east, or King David, as the case may be, were replaced by a female figure. It seems that this first occurred in northern Italy in the late 1400s. This is the symbolism that became standard and which continues in the tarot to this day. It introduces a second question regarding this trump: who is the female figure on the card? 

Again, many of the early designs deviate quite markedly from the later ones. Here, for instance, is one of the early depictions of the 'Star':

This is not Christian symbolism: it is pagan allegory. The female figure is most likely Ourania, the ancient Greek muse of astronomy in her night-blue attire. The star, in that case, need not be a specific star but is merely generic although, again, Sothis must be regarded as the prime candidate simply because it is the brightest star in the sky. Sothis is THE star, per se. 

Whatever the case, a female figure, rather than kings and David, makes her appearance, and in tarot designs thereafter the star is associated with a woman. Most likely, too, another factor assisted this shift. In some early sets of trumps the Christian virtues, personified in the medieval manner, appear in place of some of the now familiar designs. In such cases, the virtue of Hope (as in the trinity Faith, Hope and Charity) appears in place of the Star. Thus the female figure who later appeared on the cards is an adaptation of Hope, and indeed this positive attribution has continued to be part of the divinatory meanings ascribed to the card by cartomancers. 

On the other hand, this same woman becomes naked in the course of the transformation of the card designs and she thus appears to be the same female figure who appears on the Temperance card, the World card and elsewhere in the iconography of the trumps. In this respect she seems to be a representation of Anima Mundi - the World Soul - of Christo-Neoplatonic cosmology who was routinely depicted as a naked woman in this way. The World card, the last in the sequence of trumps, in particular, seems to confirm this identification. As with all the tarot trumps, the Star card is, we can see, a convergence of many different streams of late medieval and Renaissance symbolism, both pagan and Christian, iconographical and moral.

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It will be noted that in all the various designs of the star trump considered thus far there is no appearance of the waters that feature in the later designs. Historically, this is a late element in the design. First there is the star - some early designs simply show a star with no other details, as in the so-called Rosenwold Sheet, an uncut printing of card designs. See below:

Secondly, the female figure appears with the star, replacing kings and male figures. But only later does this female figure become associated with water. In the design that became normative, of course, she is holding pitchers of water and pouring them out. Star. Woman. Waters. These are the components of what became the traditional design. 

How then do we explain the appearance of water in the Star card, and how is water associated with (a) the star and (b) the woman? This is the third of the three questions to which the trump design gives rise. What are the waters we see on the card? There are three questions to be answered: 

What star is it? 
Who is the woman? 
What are the waters? 

On the face of it, the appearance of the water in the symbolism of the card seems to reinforce the view that the star in question is Sothis. The connection coincides with the ancient Egyptian themes that many have detected in the tarot trumps. No doubt, claims that the tarot is of ancient Egyptian origin are unfounded in themselves, but certain iconographical themes in the traditional designs, albeit of Italian origin, do seem to perpetuate motifs that go back to ancient Egypt. The Egyptian association of Sothis with the cycles of the Nile - and the star with water - is an association that persists in Europe well beyond ancient times. One can make a good case that this is why water appears in the symbolism of the card. The cycles of Sothis are related to the flooding of the Nile and hence, by extension, to fertility and irrigation. What star is it? Sothis. The water symbolism of the card tells us so. No other star has such a long-standing and archetypal association with water.

In that case, as many commentators suppose, the woman depicted may be meant to signify some Egyptian deity related to Sothis, most usually nominated as the goddess Isis. This, at least, would satisfactorily answer our three questions. The star is Sothis. The woman is Isis. The waters are the waters of the Nile. What has happened in the evolution of the card, then, is that these Egyptian motifs have been collected together in conjunction with the other streams of ideas such as Hope and Ourania and the Neoplatonic World-Soul. The final element in the design, the bird in the tree - almost always identified as an ibis - is likely to have been imported as part of this Egyptification at much the same time. 

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There are, all the same, other questions to be answered and other considerations that might count against such neat identifications. The tarot designs are complex and their origins and history notoriously obscure. There is much scope for speculation. Nothing is ever simple. What are we to make of the posture of the woman on the card, for instance, and her act of pouring out the water? In some early designs she holds a single pitcher and pours the water into a river (or other body of water, the sea?) In what became the canonical design she is holding two pitchers or jugs and is pouring one onto land and one into the body of water. What symbolism is afoot here? And why is she positioned as she is? 

As historians of the tarot relate, the prototype for the two vessels of water would seem to be alchemical depictions of the mermaid Melusine of folklore, an allegorical figure representing the conjunctio oppositorum, the union of opposites. In alchemical iconography she is depicted expressing milk from one breast and blood from the other, as below:

This is probably French symbolism, although the legends of Melusine were known in Cyprus and may have come into Italy through certain Milanese-Cypriot connections. Some tarot designs, old and new, are clearly related to this iconography as the following two versions of the Star card show. Without drawing attention to vulgar colloquialisms, the breasts of the mermaid become the 'jugs' of the female figure on the card, a somewhat obvious adaptation: 

In any case, the mere fact of water in the design becomes further complicated with the importation of the idea of duality, two jugs (pitchers) - the two breasts of the female figure - and the idea, by extension, that the two vessels contain two different waters or waters for two different purposes. Blood and milk in the Melusine symbolism signifies the salty and the sweet respectively. It is a fair surmise, then, that the two vessels of water represent the two types of water, salty and fresh (or sweet). This distinction is then formalized in the tarot design by having the female figure pour one vessel into the body of water (the salt water of the sea) and one on land (the fresh water of the rivers). At the time that this further distinction was made the female figure was turned around to be facing the left rather than the right and she was given a distinctive posture. This again, as historians of the tarot have remarked, is not unprecedented. The female figure seems to have been adapted to the typical posture of personifications of the zodiacal sign Aquarius, the Water-bearer, in medieval astrological symbolism, thus:

The basis for this further collapsing together and blending of symbolisms is plain. The evolution of the figure on the card now identifies her as water-bearer and a figure of conjoined opposites represented by the two modes of water, salty and sweet. In this we see astrological and alchemical influences upon the design, co-mingling with all the others we have noted, until it arrives at its canonical form, thus:

   

In a Christian context, this final symbolism is rich in allusions. Let us note, for example, a passage from the Revelation of John, 10:1-2:  

And I saw another mighty angel come down from heaven... and he set his right foot upon the sea, and his left foot on the earth.  

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It occurs to the present author, all the same, that there are other possible interpretations of this symbolism. One further feature of the design requires an explanation, and it suggests that perhaps a quite different order of symbolism was in play during the development of the trump. In the early designs, as we saw above, there was often just a single star depicted upon the card. It was almost always eight-pointed. In the canonical design this eight-pointed star blazing in the centre of the card is accompanied by seven smaller stars. These, presumably, represent the seven planets, or alternatively, it is conceivable that they represent the seven sisters, the Pleiades, since that grouping of stars is in the same proximity as Sothis. But the seven stars appear quite late in the evolution of the design. As we see in the examples depicted above, when the Melusine motif of two jugs (breasts) - the conjunction of opposites - was introduced there were four stars, not seven, accompanying the central star. Here it is again:

The stages of development, then, were one star, then four, then seven. The question is: how many additional stars should there be and what do they represent? 

If there are seven stars then we have some reasonable answers to the second part of this question. The additional stars represent either the planets or perhaps the Pleiades. But what of the four stars? When four stars were added to the design, what did they represent in the mind of the designer? The additional stars seem to be added to the design at the same time that water became associated with the star, and at first there were four stars, not seven. What, then, do four stars represent? The seven stars of the canonical design, it will be noticed, tend to be arranged somewhat awkwardly and are crowded in the given space. Designs with four stars on the other hand have a natural symmetry: the large star is in the centre and the four stars are arranged neatly around it. Perhaps the four stars are simply decorative devices just as the seven stars are instances of Hermetic exuberance? But that is unlikely. Every detail of all the tarot trumps seem to be deliberate. The designs may be arcane and there may indeed be a confusion, a hotch-potch, of various types of symbolism, but no details seem to be unintelligent or merely aesthetic. 

There is, however, no natural correlative to the four stars. Seven planets or the seven sisters (Pleiades) are natural models, but there is no natural set of four stars except, perhaps, the great Southern Cross, but that is a feature of the southern skies, not the northern. Most likely, then, they represent the four directions and/or the four seasons. The large star that they surround, therefore, takes on the symbolism of the centre, the axis. We have a central star and around it four smaller stars representing north, south, east and west and/or winter, spring, summer and autumn. But if that is the case, then we must question whether the central star is Sothis for it does not naturally carry such four-square significances. The star that does is, rather, Polaris, the pole star. Sothis is the brightest star in the heavens, but it is not, for all of that, axial. The pole star is dim to the eyes but it is the star around which the whole cosmos turns. 

It seems to the present author, in any case, that certain elements in the design of this trump might be better explained if we take the star to be the pole star rather than Sothis, or perhaps what we have is an overlapping of two different orders of symbolism. There are two great stars in the northern heavens. Sothis is the brightest. Polaris is the most axial. They are significant in two different ways. Perhaps, then, both stars come together in the Star trump? Perhaps they are interchangeable? Many of the themes we have considered might conceivably apply to both of these stars. We said, for instance, that Sothis is naturally associated with water, and it is by virtue of its association with the waters of the Nile, but the Dipper that, as we saw, circles the pole star, is conceived mythologically as a water-scoop that dips down into the waters of Ocean and irrigates the heavenly meadows. Thus, although it is perhaps less obvious and less appreciated, we might just as well attribute the water symbolism of the card to the pole star as to Sothis. 

In this respect, let us note - as some commentators have in the past - the fact that the female figure in the later designs is in a peculiar posture of arms and legs that somewhat resembles the swastika. Let us see her again:

It is clear from other tarot trumps - consider the Emperor card or the Hanging Man, for example - that the arms and legs of the figures are often made to form symbolic shapes. The Emperor's legs makle the sign of the planet Jupiter, for instance, and the Hanging Man's crossed leg makes the alchemical glyph for sulphur. Such devices are well established in tarot symbolism. In the canonical design, the naked water-bearer on the Star trump is very deliberately depicted with her arms and legs in a peculiar arrangement, and that arrangement strongly suggests the four arms of the swastika. 

We can explain that peculiarity by assuming that the star above her is the pole star. Other symbolism follows. In the Soofi tradition of the Mahometans - to draw upon another order of symbols for the sake of elucidation for a moment - much is made of various Koranic references to the "two seas" and their meeting place. These "two seas" are the two modes of water, salty and sweet. Their meeting place is the so-called bazahk, a symbolic notion of that place, the "heart", where a being of the physical world (the salty waters) can encounter the spiritual (the sweet). Such ideas are crucial to Soofi spirituality and by extension feature in Mahometan alchemy as well. By further extension, these same alchemical ideas inform the occidental alchemical tradition too, and this is what we find in the symbolism of the Star card insofar as it is alchemical. What this amounts to is this: that the bazahk, the meeting place of the "two seas", the physical and spiritual realms, is in the heart, the centre of one's being, and so to reach that place is to return to the spiritual centre, the axis of one's Self. The pole star has exactly such significances in a cosmological sense. The axis is where the "two seas" meet. 

One can interpret the Star card of the tarot in these terms. There is much more that one can say. Again, the symbolism of the tarot is rich and multivalent. These considerations are, at least, a starting point. In the first instance the meaning of the card is Sothic. The star is Sirius. But other streams of symbolism converge in its iconography. In particular, the axial symbolism of the pole star very well accounts for many of the themes of this card. The star is not only Sirius, but Polaris as well. 

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Pamela Colman Smith - A Savant With a Child's Heart

Anyone with even the slightest familiarity with the tarocci or “tarot” cards will be acquainted with the work of Miss Pamela Colman Smith, although they may be excused for not knowing her name. In the early years of the XXth century Miss Smith – an Anglo-American illustrator – was commissioned by the Masonic occultist Mr Arthur Waite to design a complete set of all seventy-eight cards of the traditional tarot deck. She completed this work in a remarkably short period of time between April and October 1909 and some time after this the cards were published by William Rider & Sons of London under the title ‘A Pictorial Key to the Tarot’. They have thereafter been known as the ‘Rider-Waite’ tarot and the name of the illustrator was not included in the title or on the box. This omission was then duplicated in 1971 when the American company US Games Inc. purchased the copyright to the cards and reissued them to the American market, making them the most well-known and popular tarot cards of the modern era. Today, the ‘Rider-Waite’ cards have become infused into popular culture to the extent that they may be regarded as prototypal; there are countless new sets on the market today, each with new illustrations on new themes, but the Rider-Waite cards are, as it were, a standard. It is a great pity then that the illustrator, the person most responsible for the indelible images of the cards, is not better known. It was an injustice she suffered in her own lifetime. Mr. Waite paid her only a token fee for her work and she received no royalties from sales. Born in 1878, she died penniless, debt-ridden and forgotten in 1951. 

By virtue of the ‘Rider-Waite’ tarot, however, Miss Smith – she was generally known as “Pixie” – must be credited as having had a profound impact upon the visual imagination of the modern West. Her tarot cards, rendered in her simple, linear style with Art Nouveau influence, are her masterpiece. The remarkable thing is that she was able to translate the instructions of the verbose and tedious Mr. Waite into compelling images that arrest the imagination and, most importantly, impose themselves upon the memory. No other design of the tarot comes near to Miss Smith’s in this respect. Others are more beautiful and yet others are more symbolically exact, perhaps, but Miss Smith made the tarot her own. She entered into the spirit of the cards and conjured images of a strongly mnemonic concrete lyricism that truly captured something of the zeitgeist of the modern occult revival, a defining counter-modernist trend that shaped early XXth century. 

They bear comparison and contrst to the cards made by Lady Frieda Harris under the instruction of the sinister Aleister Crowley. Superficially, those of Lady Harris have a deeper artistic merit, and Mr. Crowley has packed the designs with Qabbalistic allusions, but finally, compared to the charming directness of the Pixie Smith designs, they are turgid and pretentious. Miss Smith understood one of the keys to the tarot: the images on the cards are essentially caricatures. This is so in the medieval designs and she has retained that medieval flavor. The Crowley or ‘Thoth’ deck is, in contrast, a modernist mess. The same can be said of other more recent designs. They are contrived by comparison. No one quite captures the spirit of the tarot, and renders it modern yet integral, like Miss Smith.

The actual processes by which the Waite-Smith collaboration took place are not certain, but it seems likely that Mr. Waite’s input was largely restricted to the twenty-two Major Arcana. Of the fifty-six pip cards – the Minor Arcana – it is likely that Miss Smith had a very free hand. They, therefore, are her creation, and it is there that we see her genius. Mr. Waite’s Major Trumps display elements of his eclectic and sometimes misleading mash of symbols. Miss Smith’s Minor Arcana is a playhouse of little dramas and quaint allegories that bring the much-neglected minor cards new vitality. The chief inspiration for the Major Arcana seems to have been the XVIIIth century Tarot of Marseilles, while for the Minor Marcana Miss Smith appears to have looked to the Sola Busca Tarot of the XVth century for her model. The illustrator has successfully retained the essence of those earlier decks and recreated them in a new pictorial vocabulary. This is no small achievement. It is an achievement that is too often underestimated by those who like to criticize this tarot and sing the virtues of newer designs that are full of reckless innovations and artistic egoism. Miss Smith’s designs are not technically accomplished, but at least she shows faultless judgment as to how and when to depart from her medieval models and there is no egoism to be seen in the least.

The present writer, in any case, is an outspoken enthusiast for what should rightly be called the ‘Pixie Smith’ Tarot, and more broadly for Miss Smith’s art in general. Her tarot – even where Arthur Waite imposed his cranky symbolism upon the Major cards - is simply unsurpassed. She made the form her own. Her designs define the tarot in this epoch. She was not, admittedly, a great artist by the usual standards, and she was certainly not a successful one in monetary terms or in terms of wide recognition. Had she not made tarot cards for Mr. Waites she might have disappeared into obscurity entirely. But her work is beautiful and distinctive by other standards, with a unique charm, a delightful sense of decorative whimsy, a lovely innocence, an enchanting sense of the fay. Stuart Kaplan, director of US Games Inc., once remarked that had she lived in his day he could have made her a millionaire.

Miss Smith designed bookplates, made illustrations for numerous books and at one stage edited and illustrated her own magazine, the ‘Green Sheath’ which claimed its own ‘school’ of fellow artists. She came into contact with Mr. Waites through the poet W. B. Yeats who employed her as an illustrator for his poems and who inducted her into the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Despite this dalliance with the occult, however, she later converted to Catholicism and throughout her later years ran a boarding house for old priests in Cornwall. 

Her real qualifications for illustrating the tarot was her passion for folklore; wrote or co-wrote and illustrated several books on the subject, including one of Jamaican folklore entitled Annancy Stories. It sold poorly but it was the work that first attracted the attention of the Yeats family who were, at the time, looking for an artist to illustrate Gaelic tales. The father of W. B. Yeats, John, once described her work in an extant letter as follows: “Pamela,” he said…

“…is bringing out a book of Jamaica folklore. Her work, whether a drawing or telling of a piece of folklore, is very direct and sincere and therefore original - its originality being its naïveté. I should feel safe in getting her to illustrate anything. She does not draw well, but has the right feeling for line and expression and colour.”

Then he adds in summary:

“I don't think there is anything great or profound in her, or very emotional or practical. She has the simplicity and naïveté of an old dry-as-dust savant - a savant with a child's heart.”

This is a blunt assessment but also a very accurate account of her character and work - nothing great or profound but a savant with a child’s heart. This is the quality that Mr. Yeats recognized in her and that she brought to Mr. Waite’s tarot cards. It is the quality that makes her one of the most endearing of the supposedly lesser female artists of her time. We see this quality in all her work, samples of which are given below. It is her folkish lack of sophistication and her naïveté that made her the perfect vehicle for the spirit of the modern tarot. In the estimation of the present author, at least, Pamela Colman Smith – Pixie Smith – deserves far greater appreciation than she received in her lifetime or since and should be counted as an important artist in her own right. It is fashionable in some circles to disparage the ‘Rider-Waite’ tarot because it is now deemed ‘old fashioned’ or lacking in a contemporary aesthetic. This is a miscalculation of its worth. It is still the best tarot. The inspired naïveté of Pixie Smith lives still. The simplicity of the 'Rider-Waite' designs – the simplisticity of their illustrator – is an original and honest simplicity that taps deep into the medieval roots of the tarot and speaks directly to the modern Western consciousness. Her other work has the same charm and deserves to be celebrated in wider circles today. 

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Chariots of the Moon

The Moon Chariots of Udupi

The most unique feature of the Hindoo cultus to be found at the sacred town of Udupi on the west coast of the Indian sub-continent are elaborate rites in which cult objects – statues of deities – are placed in massive “chariots” and dragged by devotees around a fixed circuit. The present author was privileged to watch the entire procession from start to finish a few nights ago and has since been pondering the symbolism of the event. 

As always in India there are centuries and even millennia of overlays obscuring the original cultus – Hindooism is especially organic and relinquishes nothing to time – but the essentials of the rites have not changed and can be made out with careful observation and a discerning sense of the symbolic. There are always keys with which even the strangest and most opaque mysteries can be unlocked. Even if those who maintain the rites today have lost sight of their origins, they will usually preserve and guard the essentials – at least in an integral and living tradition such as Hindooism. 

In the case of the rites at Udupi there is a single and somewhat obvious key to what otherwise are peculiar but spectacular events. There are three temples at the site, each of a different age and a different layer of history. It is an ancient site, but it was expanded as recently as the XIIth century when it became one of the foremost centres for the veneration of the avatar Lord Krishna in all the lands of Hindoostan. Each evening – or at least on certain evenings, and certainly at festivals – the image of Lord Krishna, along with an image of Lord Shiva, is removed from its home in the temple and placed in massive four-wheeled wooden constructions which are designated as “chariots”. 

These vehicles are highly decorated, most notably with horse figurines, and function, in fact, as types of temples on wheels. Then they are lit up, blessed and dragged by thick ropes around an elongated pathway. The route is marked by two large guardians, namely men in over-sized costumes with each wielding a sword and a shield, who spin around in circles as they lead the procession. There are starts and stops and fireworks and candles along the way. When the chariots have completed the circumabulation the cult statues are removed and put back into their respective temples in the usual place having gone, it seems, for their nightly jaunt around the track. The photographs on this page illustrate the rites. 

The key? Clearly, the entire event is an enactment of the movement of celestial bodies around the circuit of the heavens. All the details of the rites become explicable in light of this fact. Specifically, one “chariot” – painted gold, as it happens – represents the Sun, and another – balloon-like - represents the Moon. The circuit, which is oriented exactly east-west, represents the ecliptic. The array of torches, fireworks and candles around the pathway represent the background of the stars. The whirling guardians armed with swords and shields represent the nodes that define the limits of the ecliptic. We can be sure of this key since the very name of the town, Udupi, means “Lord of the Stars” and the myths and legends concerning the founding of the site are all cosmological in nature. Moreover, as the present author noted in a previous post, the town is a veritable centre of the astrological sciences; the Hindoo religion takes a particular astrological form here. The entire history of the place has to do with the stars and stellar religion. 

The thing that obscures this key to the symbolism of the Udupi complex is the association of Krishna with the site. Udupi is now known as a centre of devotion to Lord Krishna, and in this sense there is no obvious and direct stellar dimension to that cultus. Indeed, the usual explanation given for the nightly rounds of the chariot is that Krishna was a charioteer, most famously in the Bhagavad Gita. Why is the cult statue of Krishna taken from its temple, placed in a chariot and dragged around its circuit every night? There is a mythological reason: it enacts the scenes of the Gita in which Krishna rides in his chariot. 

But, in fact, this is the most recent layer of symbolism – an overlay on top of the older rites. Before Krishna, the site was sacred to Shiva, and specifically to Shiva as a Moon god. This is plain if one ventures into the sanctuary of the oldest Shiva temple on the site, the Chandramauleshvara Temple. There Shiva is represented, not by the usual lingam, but by an image consisting of a bright round silver face. Chandramauleshvara means, literally, Moon-crowned, or Moon-faced. Shiva, then, was the original passenger in the celestial chariot, the chariot of the Moon. The Krishna cult is a late arrival. Krishna has been added to the temple complex in the XIIth century on the basis of the simple association of chariots. Since this was already a place featuring sacred chariots, the cult of Lord Krishna, the charioteer, found a ready home here. But one needs to look beyond the associations with Krishna to the earlier Shaivite layer of rites in order to understand them correctly. 

Many other strange details of the rites become clear once one applies the key. The whole complex, in fact, its history and its rituals, deserves a thorough study – more thorough and comprehensive than can be offered here. In each of the temples in the complex there are further stellar motifs. The more time one spends there, the more the cosmological character of the cultus becomes clear. 

* * *

As an aside, the structure, purpose and symbolism of the lunar chariots of Udupi invite comparison with the Chariot Trump in the Tarot cards of western esotericism. The resemblance is striking. The present author has long noted that while most occidental literary references to celestial chariots have a solar symbolism - Phaethon's chariot in Greek mythology, for instance - the Chariot Trump of the Tarot is, even in the earliest designs, lunar. The author has had the problem of explaining this lunar chariot symbolism. The problem is resolved in Udupi. Here we have lunar chariots, and they take a form that is strongly reminiscent of the Tarot Trump. 

See the design of the A.E. Waite deck below. Ignoring the pseudo-Egyptian sphinx motif, note the lunar and celestial symbolism throughout. It is exactly this chariot that one encounters in the great temple of Udupi in western India. Most remarkable is the winged (phallic) device in the centre of the card. In the large lunar chariots used in the sacred parades in Udupi, exactly this motif is displayed during the period that the chariot is on the move. Thus, not only is there a general similarity, there is a consonance of details. Note also, if readers care to look closely, how the chariot-riders belt is the celestial ecliptic. The conclusion is inescapable: this Tarot design refers to the very same traditions that are given expression in the rites of Udupi. 

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black