Since St. Francis set up the first (live) nativity scene in Greccio in 1223, the birth of Jesus has been depicted countless times using all forms of visual artistry. From the first scene, set up as an ideogram (accompanied by bells and fires from the first Midnight Mass), the depiction expanded into extensive landscapes, ranging from those representing the Holy Land to those faithfully recreating, down to the smallest detail, the features of local hills and valleys, towns, and their streets. Small Bethlehem scenes and their figures were often the works of great masters and their workshops, crafted with expensive, time-consuming techniques and carrying a high price. The Baroque period especially favored these lavish, miniature theatrical scenes. The general fondness for theater was already evident in the seventeenth century in small paper theaters, where graphically printed figures were arranged for various themes. Among them were also scenes of the birth of Jesus – the first paper Bethlehem scenes, or their condensed form, the nativity scene. Such nativity scenes could be kept in homes even by those for whom the precious carved Bethlehem scenes were out of reach.
Over the following centuries, paper nativity scenes underwent various conceptual and technical transformations, from flat, framed backgrounds with slightly offset figures to increasingly pronounced three-dimensionality, evolving into the square and even polygonal depths; from monochrome, then colored engravings to colored lithographs of varying chromatic intensity. At the same time, for two parallel reasons, nativity scenes began to become “animated”. Initially, they were composed of multiple, even many parts, with small paper slots, which, after repeated use, jeopardized their fragile bodies; then they became foldable, made as a single piece, more durable, but perhaps with a bit less magic. They reached the pinnacle of romantic perfection in the 1880s. Subgenres also developed, such as the “snowy nativity scene”. This “animation”, assembly and foldability, on one hand, continue the tradition of Baroque theaters, while on the other, they correspond to the practicality of the modern world. The spirit of the theater is certainly enhanced by the introduction of light: at the bottom of the room, in the stable or in what the stable gradually transforms into, there is usually a window lined with red translucent paper, behind which a small light must be lit to evoke the shepherds' fires in the distance and the night darkness surrounding it. In all European countries, with exports to America and then rich returns from it, numerous publishers produced these small wonders, which have become objects of esteemed, specialized Christmas collecting from “arte povera”. Museums compete in exhibitions dedicated to them, along with their aesthetic and sociological interpretations.
What does the stable gradually transform into? Into a house, a home, ever closer. The former daydream about the Holy Land transforms into a daydream about one's own sacred home. This is beautifully reflected in this year's Christmas stamp from the Croatian Post. The Northern house, dating from the first half of the twentieth century, was built with a wooden skeleton structure (Fachwerk), featuring brick fillings and a thatched roof. Surrounding the house is a wooden fence, and it is accessed by stairs, with tall coniferous trees growing around it. A star has fallen onto the thatched roof, perfectly harmonizing with it, so that the roof also takes on some of its golden blessing. The front wall of the house has been removed so that we can freely observe the interior scene. Here, the little Jesus lies on the straw, which appears for the third time, making it both the earthly straw of the roof and the heavenly straw of the star's tail at the same time. The dilapidation of the house is barely indicated by some peeling plaster in the background, and the attributes of poverty, namely the stable, are hardly visible because the space is filled with the richness and warmth of gathered people who recognize, acknowledge and admire. So much, all of it, fits into a small paper structure; it naturally unfolds to take on the dimensions of our walls, windows, doors and roof.
Academician Željka Čorak
