Mike Brieger’s interpretation of the Stations of the Cross revisits an ancient story of sacrifice and redemption.
“I’ve always been mesmerized with all the different interpretations,” he said.
If you go
WHAT: Stations of the Cross, an exhibition of paintings by Mike Brieger
WHERE: Studio & Gallery, 1027 Main Ave.
WHEN: April 3 to April 12. Opening Reception: 5-9 pm. April 3. Gallery hours: 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday to Friday, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Artist talk: 2 p.m. April 12 with Tim Kapustka, Studio &.
MORE INFORMATION: Visit https://anddurango.com or call (773) 263-1279.
Brieger, 60, a licensed drug and alcohol counselor who specializes in addiction, trauma and PTSD, said he has been drawing what “mesmerizes” him since he was 7 years old. Raised in the Quaker tradition and its core belief – “There is that of God in everyone,” he has gone on to study other religions, psychology and humankind. He spent a year on the Stations project. And now 16 paintings form a solo show with an accompanying book at Studio &.
“It is our hope that the paintings of the Stations will be taken very seriously – pondered, almost like a meditation or perhaps for a learning process,” said Tim Kapustka, gallery co-founder.
According to legend, today’s meditative Stations of the Cross grew out of early Christian pilgrimages to Jerusalem. As early as the fourth century CE, way stations were created for rest and prayer. By the 15th century, Franciscan monks added images of the stages leading up to the crucifixion (The Passion of Christ). In 1731, Pope Clement XII codified 14 Stations of the Cross with biblical texts to formalize what had become a Lenten practice. To this day, Catholic and Protestant churches display the Stations, often with biblical texts as captions.
Traditionally, the formal sequence begins with Christ condemned to death. In 1991, that was changed by Pope John Paul II who inserted Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane as the story’s beginning. Over time, artists have made alterations to the general scheme, including Brieger. His interpretation begins with the Agony in the Garden where Christ anxiously anticipates what is to come while his disciples peacefully sleep.
Brieger has also added a new station of his own: “The Kind Hearted Centurian.” It’s a portrait of an old soldier and a comforting respite in an otherwise brutal story. The soldier reflects: “This man truly was the Son of God,” to which Brieger adds a biblical text from Psalm 57:10: “Create in me a clean heart, Oh Lord.”
What comes before and after the Centurian is a world of hurt. In the tradition of Francisco Goya, Hieronymus Bosch and Georges Rouault. Brieger is an expressionist – a proclivity he proudly embraces. Focused on the human condition and its inevitable troubles, he summons fantastic imagery to underscore a vision of a dark and difficult world. Central to that view is acceptance, the possibility of redemption and the courage it takes just to survive.
Stylistically, Brieger’s images are kin to Bosch and Goya in both fantasy and foreboding. Emotionally, his awkward figures break bread with Rouault’s suffering minions. The artist purposefully crams humans, animals and birds into tight, claustrophobic spaces. As compact and intense as every image is, Brieger’s dry-brush technique further intensifies the drama.
Any new interpretation of the Stations deserves contemplation. Brieger’s humanistic take on the series is the opposite of sanitized contemporary versions. In our happy-face, consumer culture, there is even a children’s version you can see online. How anyone can sugar-candy the Stations of the Cross is unfathomable. Brieger may be old school, but his Stations are most welcome in 2026.
To see other local interpretations of the Stations, visit Catholic churches almost anywhere, including Durango, and St. Mark’s Episcopal Church. In 1978, St. Mark’s installed a cast-bronze sequence in the sanctuary.
Judith Reynolds is an arts journalist and member of the American Theatre Critics Association.
