Winged Messengers: Exploring the Symbolism of Crows and Ravens in Art

Throughout history and across cultures, ravens and their larger relatives, the crows, have captivated the human imagination as symbols of mystery, intelligence and wisdom. These enigmatic birds have left an indelible mark in art and literature, where they are often depicted as messengers of the gods, incarnations of deception or harbingers of impending events. From ancient myths to contemporary stories, ravens and ravens are woven into the fabric of human culture, symbolizing both darkness and light, the mundane and the supernatural. This introduction offers the opportunity to explore how these birds have been depicted in different artistic forms and cultural contexts, revealing their continuing importance throughout history.

In myth and folklore, ravens and ravens often serve as powerful symbols. In Norse mythology, Odin's ravens Hugin and Muninn represent thought and memory, flying around the world and bringing information to the wise god. In Native American cultures, ravens and ravens are revered for their intelligence and are considered messengers from the spirit world who embody transformation and guidance. These mythological depictions emphasize the dual nature of birds as earthly creatures and as intermediaries to the divine and supernatural world. From Edgar Allan Poe's haunting poem "The Raven" to modern fantasy novels, their presence in literature continues to evoke a sense of intrigue and symbolism, making them an eternal subject of artistic exploration and interpretation.

Crows and ravens are also depicted in many forms of visual art, from ancient sculptures and paintings to modern interpretations in digital media. In classical art, they often appear alongside gods or in mythological narrative scenes, such as the Greek story of Apollo and the Crow. Their sleek black feathers and piercing eyes lend themselves to depictions that are both menacing and majestic, reflecting the artist's interpretation of their symbolic meanings. Throughout history, artists have imbued crows and ravens with much symbolism and emotion. They can symbolize death and decay in vanitas-themed works, and are depicted alongside skulls and hourglasses to remind the viewer of the transience of life.

Conversely, they are celebrated in nature paintings and animal art for their beauty and resilience, capturing the essence of wild nature. In contemporary art, crows and ravens continue to inspire artists exploring themes of identity, consciousness, and environmentalism. They are also sometimes used as motifs in abstract and surrealist art, where their presence can evoke a sense of mystery or introspection. Additionally, their adaptability and survival instinct in urban environments have led artists to explore themes of adaptation and coexistence in the face of urbanization and climate change. 

Overall, depictions of crows and ravens in art span millennia and reflect the evolving cultural and symbolic meanings ascribed to these birds. From ancient mythological tales to contemporary artistic interpretations, they remain powerful symbols that resonate deeply with human experiences and aspirations.

Vasily Vereshchagin, The Apotheosis of War, 1871. Oil on canvas, 127 cm × 197 cm. Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.

The Russian painter Vasily Vasilyevich Vereshchagin (1842-1904) was a war artist, who, as a member of the Order of St. George, was especially famous for the graphic character of his realistic scenes, but was ostracized by parts of the Russian intelligentsia. Due to these peculiarities, some of them were never printed or exhibited. On the other hand, the Apotheosis of War shows a pile of human skulls, probably the result of a battle or siege. They are in a desolate landscape outside the walls of the city of Samarkand, where the artist had previously fought as part of the Russian Imperial Army in the Russian campaign to conquer Turkestan. However, what is depicted here is missing the dark presence of a flock of ravens, who have either arrived or have not yet arrived at the aforementioned gloomy banquet, and the silent mountains that watch over the scene and act as a border for the painting. They separate the empty steppe from the vast sky. Finally, this description ends with the artist's own words, written on the frame of the work: in , he dedicated the painting to "all the great conquerors, past, present and future." This is probably to oppose the onset of death, and to personify death, which, by the skull and the crow, has always appeared as the most tragic enemy of the memory of human life.

August Friedrich Schenck, Anguish, 1878. Oil on canvas, 151 cm × 251.2 cm. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne.

August Friedrich Albrecht Schenck (1828-1901) was a painter mainly active in France, born in the town of Glückstadt, a community of German and then Danish people. When talking about this latter master, it is important to point out that his most famous work is precisely the one that depicts, among other things, a flock of crows, namely The Terror (1878). The painting in question immortalizes as its main subject a mother sheep, devastated by the death of her son, whose lifeless body is surrounded by a flock of black birds, waiting to devour him. The attention to detail in the work is important, such as the way the air condenses around the mouth of the sheep, which lets out a cry of anguish, and how a single drop of blood makes its way through the white snow and rises from the mouth of the dead baby mammal. The sky, where such a heinous event takes place, has the saddest characteristics of winter: it is grey and overcast, and looks as if it is about to burst into tears at any moment. Finally, it is interesting to know that there is another version of this work, namely the painting "Orphan, Memory of Auvergne" (1885), exhibited at the Musée d'Orsay, which depicts a lamb over the lifeless body of his mother, who is shown to us by the painting.

Marie-Euphrosine Spartali (1844 - 1927) was one of the favorite models of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an influential group of artists in Victorian painting, where she later trained as a painter, and whose long career was appreciated by such greats of the "genre" as Dante Galviel Rossetti. But if we talk about one of her works, which speaks of Callas, it is the scene of Antigone burying the body of her brother Polynices, and this oil painting is one of the oldest by a painter who had the technique in question at the time, one of the main representatives of the Pre-Raphaelite movement, namely the English master Sir Edward Corey Burne-Jones. The painting depicts a scene from the Greek tragedy Antigone, precisely when the latter's heroine lies on a windswept rock in a desolate landscape, mourning her dead brother Polynices. In this context, Antigone tries to bury her brother's body, thereby rebelling against the will of Creon, king of Thebes. Creon issued a special decree, according to which Polynices was not even allowed to be mourned: the latter decision was due to the fact that Polyneaces, who had hoped to ascend to the Theban throne, had died during the siege of the city and Creon had behaved like an enemy to whom he did not want to pay funeral honours. The painting therefore depicts the moment when Antigone rebelled against the aforementioned law in an attempt to give her brother a proper burial, which, if discovered, would have resulted in her losing her freedom and the rest of her life. This event led to the extreme actions of Aemon, the son of Creon and the woman's fiancé. The ravens in the play could then also be considered to represent a kind of providential salvation in lieu of the harm caused by the burial, since if they had only had the pleasure of devouring Polyneices' body, no further bloodshed would have occurred.