Father, Son and the Holy War
Father, Son and the Holy War/ Отца, сина и свещената война
pencil drawing on 300lb Fabriano Artistico paper, 74 x 53 cm, framed size: 95 x 65 cm, Anton Terziev, 2024
Photo: © the artist
Courtesy the author
Title credit: Svetoslav Todorov - writer, editor, correspondent
Collaborating since 2019
Part of No Time For Losers series of drawings, object, photography and paintings (2019-)
used material: Christ Pantocrator of Saint Catherine's Monastery is one of the oldest Byzantine religious icons, dating from the 6th century AD
Горната рисунка стъпва върху централен детайл от иконата Христос Вседържител, (Пантократор) в манастира "Св. Екатерина" в Синай, Египет - най-старото изображение, оцеляло от иконоборческия период през VI в. Причината да преинача образа е, че в моите очи Христос носи ореола на съвременен MMA боец - едновременно самопожертвователен, но и част от кървав спектакъл. Може би нуждата да го видя боеца в него , не е само моя. За да подчертая и направя това припознаване видимо добавих деформираните уши. Така наречените борчески, или счупени уши (cauliflower ears), характерни за спортисти, които практикуват контактни спортове или смесени бойни изкуства. Дори само те са достатъчни да датират работата ми към днешния ден, в който всяка една война има „свещен “ характер, а битките за (християнски) хуманизъм изглеждат все повече като загубена, съответно още по-необходима кауза. Тази рисунка също така, визуално и смислово обединява два мои цикъла творби – Метаканон (2005-2014) и No Time For Losers (2019-)
The above drawing is based on a central detail of the icon of Christ the All-bearing, (Pantocrator) in the monastery of St. Catherine of Sinai, Egypt, the oldest surviving image from the iconoclastic period of the 6th century. The reason I reinterpret the image is that in my eyes Christ wears the halo of a modern MMA fighter - both self-sacrificing but also part of a bloody spectacle. Maybe the need to see the fighter in him , is not just mine. To emphasize and make this recognition visible I added the deformed ears. So called wrestling, or broken ears (cauliflower ears), typical of athletes who practice contact sports or mixed martial arts. Even these alone are enough to date my work to the present day, where every war has a "sacred" character, and the battles for (Christian) humanity seem more and more like a lost, and therefore even more necessary, cause. This drawing also, visually and meaningfully unites two of my cycles of work - Metacanon (2005-2014) and No Time For Losers (2019-)
Anton Terziev’s pencil drawing, *Father, Son and the Holy War*, boldly reimagines one of the most significant icons of Eastern Orthodoxy: the 6th-century Christ Pantocrator from the Monastery of St. Catherine in Sinai. By translating a revered ancient image into a contemporary context, Terziev engages in a dynamic conversation with the iconoclastic heritage and with modern notions of conflict, sacrifice, and devotion.
The original Christ Pantocrator at St. Catherine’s holds a distinguished position in art history. It is widely recognized as the earliest surviving image from the era of Byzantine iconoclasm. The icon’s compositional elements—the frontal portrayal, the encompassing halo, and the penetrating gaze—have profoundly influenced centuries of Christian art. In Terziev’s drawing, these classical features are meticulously preserved. The frontal orientation and the solemn, direct gaze echo the sense of gravity that has long defined Byzantine iconography, suggesting both Christ’s dual nature (human and divine) and his role as the ultimate judge and ruler of the universe.
Where Terziev diverges most strikingly from tradition is in his infusion of modern MMA aesthetics. He interprets the halo not solely as a sacred nimbus, but as a visual parallel to the fighter’s headgear or the ring’s spotlight. By doing so, he recontextualizes Christ as a self-sacrificing combatant—one who enters an arena of suffering and violence, much like a mixed martial artist. This notion is further emphasized by the addition of “cauliflower ears,” a physical hallmark of contact-sport athletes. These features situate the work unmistakably in the present day, marking it as a dialogue between the ancient sanctity of the icon and the brutal realities of contemporary spectacle.
In both the ancient and modern worlds, warfare and sacrifice have frequently been framed in religious or sacred terms. Terziev’s subtitle—*Father, Son and the Holy War*—plays on Christian Trinitarian language while evoking contemporary discourses about “holy” conflict. The juxtaposition of Christ as an MMA fighter underscores a tension: he is simultaneously the Prince of Peace and a figure embroiled in strife. Terziev’s drawing suggests that the battles for moral or spiritual truth remain as urgent and contested as ever. If 6th-century iconoclasm questioned the legitimacy of depicting the divine, the artist here questions our modern forms of reverence: do we now venerate the spectacle of violence as a quasi-religious experience?
Executed in pencil, *Father, Son and the Holy War* preserves the austerity and somber tonalities typical of medieval icon painting, even as it foregrounds modern subject matter. The finely rendered facial features, especially the eyes, recall the piercing gaze from the original icon, reflecting centuries of devotional and artistic practice. Meanwhile, the emphasis on the ears—exaggerated and “broken”—marks the image as distinctly contemporary. The halo, drawn with a robust outline, balances between its sacred origin and the connotations of a combat sport’s headgear or the glare of an arena’s floodlights.
Terziev’s reinterpretation asks viewers to confront how easily sacred symbols can intersect with or be co-opted by contemporary spectacles of violence. It suggests that Christ, as the archetypal figure of sacrifice, remains perpetually relevant. Yet, in this updated depiction, he is not only the “All-bearing” one who carries humanity’s sins; he also bears the marks of modern conflict. The “holy war” here may not be a literal battlefield alone—it can also be a spiritual, cultural, or ideological struggle. The drawing underscores a collective yearning to see a champion, even a divine one, who actively engages in the arena of human conflict. In this sense, Terziev’s Christ becomes both a testament to timeless faith and an icon of urgent, present-day strife.
*Father, Son and the Holy War* is a provocative, deeply resonant artwork that bridges the 6th century with the 21st. By grafting the iconographic tradition of Christ Pantocrator onto the imagery of MMA culture, Anton Terziev raises penetrating questions about the evolution of sacred imagery and the timeless human inclination to imbue warfare with religious significance. His pencil drawing, simultaneously reverential and irreverent, encourages us to reflect on what we hold sacred, how we perceive conflict, and how ancient symbols can be reinterpreted to speak powerfully to contemporary experience.