Excerpts from interventions by Michele Tarroni at the workshop “The Garment: Dwelling in a Sacred Space” and at the conference “Capucci’s Santa Maria Annunziata”
[…] Let us now set out toward an icon-theological analysis of Capucci’s Santa Maria Annunziata, also taking into consideration proxemics, that is, the way in which the architectural space and the physical placement of the work influence its perception and the dialogue between the work itself and the observer, thereby contextualizing the hermeneutic reading of the sacred work within the liturgical and architectural environment that welcomes it, highlighting the interaction among image, space, and viewer.
Before proceeding, let us look more closely at the icon-theological framework on which our research is grounded. The term icon-theology denotes an interpretive approach that fuses iconographic and iconological analysis (traditionally centered on the formal, symbolic, and historical aspects of images) with theological reflection, in order to understand more deeply the spiritual dimension and the message of faith conveyed by works of sacred art.
Compared to iconology—which concentrates on the intrinsic, cultural, and philosophical meaning of images—icon-theology adds a specifically theological perspective: it asks which contents of faith, doctrines, or spiritual principles are embodied in artistic representations and how art communicates truths of faith or complex theological concepts through visual forms.
Some examples of application:
- An icon-theological analysis of a religious painting, such as Rembrandt’s “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” seeks in the gestures, colors, and postures the spiritual and Trinitarian meanings, in addition to the narrative and symbolic value.
- Icon-theology serves to read sacred scenes in a theological-symbolic key, highlighting the balance between the active and the contemplative life (as in the case of Martha and Mary), according to the interpretive keys of the Christian tradition.
Icon-theology is therefore to be understood as a reflection on art as a privileged vehicle of spiritual content, integrating the tools of Art History with the depth of theology in order to grasp the ultimate and transcendent meaning of sacred images.
Let us therefore delve into the icon-theological analysis of Capucci’s Santa Maria Annunziata, integrating the hermeneutic reading with a reflection on proxemics.
To enter the creative universe of Roberto Capucci, when it intertwines with the Christian tradition and the codes of sacred iconography, is to find oneself at the crossroads of faith and beauty, contemplation and discovery. It is not merely fashion, nor merely art: it is a theology of colour and form that shimmers like reflected light upon the folds of silk.
Read through the garments dedicated to the “Madonna dalle cappe doppie” and the “Arcangelo Gabriele,” his work becomes an original figurative and spiritual commentary on the Annunciation. In this millennial dialogue—between the young woman of Nazareth and the heavenly messenger—Capucci does not imitate, but reinvents: he gathers the legacy of Leonardo and the great masters of the past and recomposes it in a language that is both sartorial and symbolic. Fabrics become material painting, folds are brushstrokes of light, colors are not mere hues but theological resonances: Mary is a vesture of Grace, a reflection of eternal innocence; Gabriel is a tunic of heaven, the embodiment of that divine power that becomes lightness and gift.
These creations do not merely evoke a Gospel episode: they render it living, tangible, wearable. They are not stage costumes, but icons for meditation, the contemporary translation of a theophany. Capucci shows that when art dares to become prayer, it loses nothing of its aesthetic force; on the contrary, it becomes more radically innovative. His stylized Annunciation is an aesthetic act that also becomes a theological act.
In the end, what is handed on to us is not simply “a garment”: it is a fragment of eternity translated into silk.
In commenting on Maria Annunziata, it is fitting first to place the reflection within theological Mariology, which studies the dignity, mission, and privileges of Mary, Mother of the Incarnate Word, in the light of divine Revelation. This study does not rest on human reason alone, but draws from the sources of Scripture and Tradition, interpreting that unique event which is the Annunciation: the moment in which Mary, in her freedom and humility, receives the Word of God, becoming “handmaid and mother.”
Contemporary Mariology re-centers the salvific event, placing Mary organically within salvation history. In particular, the Magnificat (Lk 1:46–55) offers the hermeneutic key to Mary’s vocation: the divine logic is expressed in the exaltation of the humble, in the privilege granted to the lowly, in God’s predilection for those who abandon themselves to his will. Mary appears, according to the best patristic and theological tradition, as the “noetic principle of the salvific plan and at the same time its manifest exemplification”: that is, simultaneously symbol and reality, model of faith; Co-Redemptrix and “universal Mediatrix” between God and humanity.
Among the central themes—particularly from the Middle Ages to the modern syntheses of Mariology—is the question of the Immaculate Conception, understood as a sign of preservation ab aeterno from original sin, and Mary’s mediating function, described by authors such as Bernardine of Siena as the “neck” through which grace flows from Christ to the members of the Church. Mary thus receives the title Kecharitōmenē, “Full of Grace,” which places her at the summit of creaturely holiness and also as the figure most open to the communication of divine grace.
In theological terms the Annunciation—the moment of encounter between Mary and the heavenly messenger—stands as the true watershed of salvation history: here, in the freedom of her fiat (“Ecce ancilla Domini: fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum”) Mary becomes the icon of human consent to God’s action and a model for ecclesial faith. As the Second Vatican Council affirms, reflection on Mary unfolds in the unity of the two Testaments, in the historical concreteness of her “pilgrimage of faith,” and in her response to the divine call.
Hence the particular theological beauty of the Madonna Annunziata: although “enveloped in Grace,” she remains fully woman, a creature capable of listening and of dialogue with God and with his angel. In art—as in Capucci’s thought—she shines not only through sumptuous garments and luminous colors, but through the supernatural depth that surrounds her “from within”: speculum sine macula, a limpid reflection of grace, obedience, and God’s saving love that finds room in the heart of a young woman of Nazareth.
The placement of Roberto Capucci’s dress-sculpture in the Church of Santa Maria Annunziata in Borgo, Rome, represents not only an artistic act of great significance, but a living dialogue with the city’s figurative tradition and with its spiritual patrimony, of which the church itself is custodian and witness.
If we look at Antoniazzo Romano’s “Madonna del Latte,” we find ourselves immersed in an iconography at the boundary between the late Gothic and the early Renaissance. With his sensitivity, the artist begins to move away from the flatness of the Gothic, seeking volume and depth in the figures—hallmarks of the Renaissance—introducing elements of modernity in the humanization of the scene, which captures Mary in the tenderness of a maternal gesture—with warm, luminous tones that help create an atmosphere of serenity and sweetness—yet also enveloped in regality—the purple mantle—which reflects the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception and her theological centrality. The green lining of the mantle, as in the iconography of the Madonna del Manto, likely earned the title Refugium Peccatorum, by which the icon has been venerated since the pontificate of Leo XIII.
Angelo Massarotti’s “Annunciation” (1654–1723), by contrast, reinterprets the moment of encounter between Mary and the angel through a Baroque sensibility that privileges the theatricality of light and the power of gesture. The Archangel Gabriel, with his flowing draperies and celestial splendor, is a manifestation of the power of God; Mary receives the divine message, a symbol of perfect interior disposition, in a scene where the heavenly and the earthly intertwine.
Coming to Capucci’s work, the dress-sculpture takes its place not as a simple homage to the venerated images, but as a contemporary meditation on these models: his “Santa Maria Annunziata” absorbs the echoes of canvases and frescoes, broadens the language of the Annunciation and of divine maternity, transfiguring materials and colors into living theology. The double capes, the veils, the ocher and green illumination, evoke both Leonardo’s spiritual atmosphere and Antoniazzo Romano’s golden tonalities, while the brilliance of the textiles—crafted with the calm and care of antiquity—responds ideally to the Baroque splendor of Massarotti’s composition.
The dialogue created in this context—between Capucci, Romano, Massarotti, and the sacred architecture of the church itself—is therefore an invitation to linger: the contemplation of the work is not only an aesthetic experience, but also an entry into a theological meditation renewed within the space of liturgy, history, and art. Mary, at the center of this itinerary, remains she who welcomes, generates, and reveals—through beauties ancient and new—the mystery of Grace breaking into time and space.
Thus Capucci’s “Santa Maria Annunziata,” poised between the maternal hand of Antoniazzo Romano and the absolute light of Massarotti, becomes a precious bridge between ancient and modern: rooted in the prayerful silence of the church, its beauty points to the age-old dialogue between God and man, between art and spirituality, between faith and knowledge.
