Samson’s Struggle
Food for Thought is a series in which tastemakers from different fields consider their knowledge in relation to old masters, asking how they might offer a fresh perspective in the way one engages with the art of the past. For this issue, artist Tom Young responds to one of the greatest Baroque paintings in the Metropolitan Museum that, like him, once lived in the Lebanese capital.
Since writing this essay, Israel and Lebanon have agreed to a ceasefire.
In the Old Testament, the herculean Israelite hero Samson drew his immense strength from his long flowing hair. His duplicitous lover Delilah ordered that his locks be cut, and this made him vulnerable to the Philistines, who bound and blinded him. In Samson Captured by the Philistines (1619), which now hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the artist Guercino depicts the moment in which Samson struggles to free himself. The dynamism of the composition, fraught with conflicting axes pulling and pushing, evokes a sense of existential crisis; a man at a critical moment, clinging on to life at all costs.
The dramatic chiaroscuro, the crepuscular lighting, and the muscular struggle which dominates the monumental canvas and the multitude of tangled figures, some armored some not, also evoke the destructive clashes erupting now across the same land, widely known as the Levant. It is perhaps no accident that a century ago, this Baroque masterpiece entered the Lebanese Sursock family collection. It remained in the Palais Sursock in Beirut for fifty years or so until Yvonne Sursock, Lady Cochrane sold it in the 1970s to Charles Wrightsman in New York.[1]
Lebanon has been my home for the past 15 years, and a muse for much of my own work as an artist. I lived near the historic Palais Sursock, the current residence of Roderick Sursock Cochrane and his family. In this charming palace, I have enjoyed his company while painting in its gardens and lofty halls, surrounded by fine works of baroque art, including Artemisia Gentileschi‘s Penitent Magdalene and Hercules and Omphale—the latter, having sustained severe damages in the devastating port explosion on 4th August 2020, has been undergoing conservation treatment at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles for the last two years.[2] The prescient vision to buy such paintings by a rare female artist is symptomatic of the family’s sophistication.
The existence of the Sursock Palace is a symbol of this precious country—a cradle of ancient civilization with monuments of historic importance at the crossroads of cultures that have survived, despite conflict being endemic in this part of the world. The latest escalation was triggered when Hezbollah, a Shi’a militia and a powerful political force in Lebanon, fired rockets into Northern Israel on the 8th of October 2023 in solidarity with Hamas, whose murderous attacks the day before prompted Israel’s assault into Gaza.[3] As Israel rages against Hezbollah, the reach of the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) has extended far beyond the military group’s leadership: swathes of the country are reduced to rubble, not to mention the repeated use of white phosphorous in populated areas in the South.[4] Historic churches and mosques have been bombed, entire villages obliterated, alongside schools, orphanages, hospitals, and Ottoman-era souks with unproven ties to Hezbollah.[5] The collective punishment inflicted on the people of Gaza has been described as a scorched-earth strategy;[6] now, it’s threatening to erase a culture and its multi-layered heritage in Lebanon too: a heritage which belongs to us all.
The violence of Guercino’s masterpiece portends a chilling outcome to the current crisis. Having been taken into captivity in Gaza (of all places), Samson’s hair grows again, and he prays to God to return him to his former strength. Finally, Samson is taken by the Philistines to their temple where, with his renewed power, he breaks the supporting pillars. This brings down the temple, ensuring his own destruction as well as that of his Philistine captors. One cannot help but think of the so-called ‘Samson Option’, a nuclear strategy whereby Israel would launch a worldwide retaliatory nuclear strike if the state itself were about to be destroyed.[7] In the Old Testament, God commands King Saul to completely destroy Amalek after its attack on the Jewish people, stating specifically this would include children and animals. Indeed, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu invoked this reference soon after Israel launched its ground invasion of Gaza last year, stating, ‘You must remember what Amalek has done to you, says our Holy Bible. And we do remember.'[8]
As Lebanon and much of its people are caught in the battle between Israel and Hezbollah, a number of sites of antiquity are in such peril that UNESCO moved to grant provisional enhanced protection to 34 additional sites in the country.[9] On 6th October this year, Israeli missiles damaged the Northern Gate to the UNESCO World Heritage site of Baalbek in the Bekaa Valley, an awe-inspiring Roman Temple complex.[10] Monumental stones which had stood firm for nearly 2,000 years collapsed. For Shi’a Muslims, Baalbek is where the revered hero Husayn ibn Ali’s head was taken after he was slain at the Battle of Karbala in 680 AD, and where his daughter Khawla is believed to be buried.
Earlier this month on 3rd November, in another aerial onslaught of Baalbek, an Ottoman-era building at the entrance of the town was destroyed, while the façade of the Palmyra Hotel was damaged.[11] The hotel, a relic of a bygone era, had hosted such guests as varied as Lawrence of Arabia, Jean Cocteau, and Miles Davis. Its façade featured splendid views of the Roman Temples of Bacchus and Jupiter, with the snow-capped mountains of Mount Lebanon rising beyond. Now, the once ornate arched windows are smashed, and many of its antique furniture in pieces.
The southern city of Tyre is also under threat. Just 20 km from the Israeli border, it is home to a large Shi’a population and a Christian minority. Tyre was one of the great island cities of antiquity, the centre of Phoenician civilization and trade. Alexander the Great conquered it in 332 BC, after building a causeway from the mainland of the Mediterranean Coast, which has grown and survived to the present day. Europa, the namesake of the continent, was Princess of Tyre in Greek mythology. She was abducted by Zeus and taken from the Lebanese shore to the island of Crete.
The myth has inspired many great painters, notably Rembrandt and Titian, whose visions of the mountainous Lebanese coast are not too far from the truth. Today, two Roman sites remain: a colonnade running through the ancient ruins to the deep blue sea, and a Hippodrome and cemetery where I once painted a collective animation piece. Now that access to both sites is dangerous, it is difficult to verify if any direct damage is being done. But the Israeli military has, according to UNESCO, destroyed whole blocks of residential towers in close proximity to the delicate stones. [12]
Other archeological treasures can be found nearby: the tomb of Phoenician King Hiram I, an important ally of Israelite King Solomon; and the Shrine of Prophet Benjamin, son of Jacob and brother of Old Testament Joseph, a sacred site to all three Abrahamic faiths. The latter has been destroyed as Mhaibib, the hill-top village close to the Israeli border, was obliterated by a series of explosions on 16th October.[13] While the village of Qana, where the Marriage of Cana is said to have taken place, suffered intense bombardments.[14] Biblical-era carvings of the wedding story, in which Jesus turned water to wine, can be seen on rocks nearby, while remains of Roman wine vats and olive oil presses can be found in the town.
Just up the coast is Sidon, another great Phoenician port city. Pronounced in Arabic as ‘Saida’, it was the subject of iconic 19th-century watercolour sketches by Scottish artist David Roberts as well as by J.M.W. Turner.[15] Jesus is said to have preached in its ancient souq (the medieval alleyways of which survive to this day) as his mother Mary stayed in a cave on a hill overlooking the city in the modern-day Christian village of Magdoucheh. On multiple occasions, I have been welcomed by the delicious food made by my friends in Sidon with produce from their orchards. My longest running exhibition is still on view in the city at a beautiful 300-year-old Ottoman era bathhouse, the ‘Hammam Al Jadeed’. It continues daily, despite bombs raining down nearby. Paradoxically, the Hammam was once frequented by a thriving Jewish community before they left en-masse when the State of Israel was created in 1948. I once interviewed a Muslim ‘Hajji’ lady in her 90’s, who spoke fondly of her memories attending the ritual cleansing ceremonies of Jewish brides.
I have lived through many years of instability in Lebanon. In 2019, a nationwide protest movement brought the country to a standstill. In August 2020, the Beirut port explosion seriously damaged both my apartment and studio. I would have been injured myself, or worse, had I been home that day. This war felt different. The early assassinations in South Beirut sent shock waves through the city, sparking memories, for those who lived through the wars of 2006 and 1982, of an unending cycle of trauma.[16] As the ominous hum of low-flying Israeli jets became part of everyday life, I left my Beirut home in haste—a choice that, unfortunately, not everyone could make.
As I write this from Stamford, a tranquil town that sits on the famous Roman-built Ermine Street linking London to York, I’m wondering if the harmonious history of the Hammam, or any of my experience, can light the path towards a better future for us all. Or are we edging ever closer to a moment when a contemporary Samson crashes down all of our temples, both within and far beyond the borders of Lebanon? ❖