The Resurrection of Realism: “Beauty Will Save the World”

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30 Video Views·Nov 12, 2024
October 2024. Igor V. Babailov steps forward, standing beside his newest masterpiece, “The Resurrection of Realism.”
He’s no stranger to this moment, introducing a painting that stands in contrast to the abstract trends of modern art. Why? Because there’s something about realism that calls to us. Something timeless, something sacred.
October 2024. Igor V. Babaylov steps forward, standing beside his newest masterpiece,
The Resurrection of Realism. He's no stranger to this moment, introducing a painting that
stands in contrast to the abstract trends of modern art. Why? Because there's something about
realism that calls to us. Something timeless, something sacred. Do you ever wonder why we
never see this in a church? Yeah, most of us would say, it just doesn't belong. And we're right.
It doesn't. Since the Renaissance, realistic art has been the language of faith.
It's been the way we learn, the way we connect with stories that are bigger than ourselves.
You walk into a church, open a Bible, and what do you see? Life, love, and sacrifice
are brought to life in a way that we can feel, we can understand. Realism isn't just about skill.
It's about the truth. It's about the sacred. Great artists, Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo,
weren't just painters, they were theologians. Their art spoke the language of God, conveying
his message and touching hearts across the ages. But today, the word artist gets thrown
around like confetti. A cook, a dentist, a butcher, suddenly everyone's an artist.
But does that honor the craft? Does that honor the sacred meaning of creating something with purpose,
something beautiful? Now let's play the game. Who is the greatest artist? That's Van Gogh.
That's Van Gogh. That's Monet. Gazing out at the sun, the birds, and the sky simply says,
the best artist in the world, it's God. Because who could paint a better picture than the creator
himself? Every leaf, every cloud, every sunset, it's divine perfection. And we, as artists,
we're just trying to capture a fraction of that beauty on canvas. I was blessed to have trained
in the tradition of the great masters. I've spent decades honing my craft, learning not just to
paint, but to truly see. Drawing, to me, is more than a skill, it's a responsibility. Because when
you paint realism, you're not just showing the world as it is. You're showing the divine spark
in everything. But today, in schools, kids are taught that anything can be art. That confusion
begins early. What's a masterpiece? What's not? It's no wonder they're lost. Relativism.
It's dangerous. It questions what we already know, what's kept humanity alive, our moral values.
And when modern art embraces chaos when it glorifies death over life, isn't that playing
right into the devil's hands? Realism. It's more than just technique. It's prayer. It's gratitude.
It's a way to honor God's creation. Even in the darkest moments, like Christ on the cross,
it's realism that brings us closer to compassion, to love. Modern art. It's filled with pessimism
and darkness. It celebrates the end. But realism? It celebrates life. In my career,
I've been blessed to paint some of the most incredible people, three popes, and leaders
from around the world. Each portrait. More than just a likeness, it's a story, a life, a legacy.
And so, in this world of chaos, of debates over what art should be, I offer my response.
The Resurrection of Realism. The painting is revealed, bright light breaking through dark,
chaotic forms, a child at the center, symbolizing hope and purity. Realism has been pushed down and
suppressed for too long. But like light breaking through darkness, it's time for it to rise again.
For beauty, for truth, for faith to take its rightful place. Because as Pope John Paul II
once said, beauty will save the world. And maybe, just maybe, it starts with us,
those who honor the beauty of creation, those who still believe in the power of realism.
