Churchandpomo contributor Daniel Siedell has contributed an article to The Other Journal's special issue on aesthetics. It's entitled "Altars to Unknown Gods: A Christian Approach to Contemporary Art." Here's a teaser:
Dostoyevsky once said that beauty would save the world. Most Christian writing on the visual arts, however, is a betrayal of the depth and profundity of the Christian tradition that Dostoyevsky represents. It reflects the negativity and superficiality of contemporary cultural discourse rather than the living tradition of the church as Christ’s presence in the world.
Saint Paul tells us to embrace “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable [. . . .]” (Phil. 4: 8). We are called to embrace, not merely to reject in the name of Christ. Too often Christian writing on contemporary art is a litany of rejections and, at times, even appears to take pleasure in drawing our attention to those characteristics and qualities that contradict Saint Paul.
In addition, Christian writing on art often seems to have a superficial view of beauty. The beauty that will save this world is not “of this world.” It therefore might at first blush appear to be terrifying, ugly, weak, and distorted. It might even be despised. Beauty is derived first and foremost from the beauty of the face of the crucified Christ, who emptied himself, took the form of a servant, and was considered nothing (Phil. 2: 6-11). It is this Christ that reveals the Father. It is this Christ that turns the world upside down, who, by death trampled down death. And it is this Christ that, with the Father and the Spirit, created the world and pronounced it not only good, but very good. (The Septuagint translation goes so far as to call it “beautiful.”) Sadly, too much Christian writing presents an unattractive picture of Christianity for those committed to contemporary art and an unattractive picture of contemporary art for Christians whose imaginations should be shaped by it. Both contemporary Christian practice and contemporary artistic practice, which are so closely related and mutually reinforcing, are thus presented as having nothing to do with the other.
As a Christian who is a historian of modern and contemporary art, writes art criticism, and curates exhibitions of contemporary art, this is not merely a problem, it poses a personal challenge to my vocation. I have devoted nearly twenty years of my life to studying modern and contemporary art, theory, and art criticism. And so I follow Jesus and work out my salvation in the bowels of the contemporary art world that so scandalizes and infuriates so many of my brothers and sisters in Christ. The Russian Orthodox theologian Father Alexander Schmemann once said that a Christian is one who sees Christ everywhere. I have come to the conclusion that if Christian critics and intellectuals can’t find Christ in the contemporary art world then all I can suggest is that they have not looked closely enough. And looking closely is what an art critic as well as a Christian is supposed to do. For it is in looking closely at the world, including art, that we can open ourselves up to the presence of Christ. And that is risky business, indeed; perhaps too risky for many who serve as the cultural gatekeepers of our souls.
Saint Paul tells us to embrace “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable [. . . .]” (Phil. 4: 8). We are called to embrace, not merely to reject in the name of Christ. Too often Christian writing on contemporary art is a litany of rejections and, at times, even appears to take pleasure in drawing our attention to those characteristics and qualities that contradict Saint Paul.
In addition, Christian writing on art often seems to have a superficial view of beauty. The beauty that will save this world is not “of this world.” It therefore might at first blush appear to be terrifying, ugly, weak, and distorted. It might even be despised. Beauty is derived first and foremost from the beauty of the face of the crucified Christ, who emptied himself, took the form of a servant, and was considered nothing (Phil. 2: 6-11). It is this Christ that reveals the Father. It is this Christ that turns the world upside down, who, by death trampled down death. And it is this Christ that, with the Father and the Spirit, created the world and pronounced it not only good, but very good. (The Septuagint translation goes so far as to call it “beautiful.”) Sadly, too much Christian writing presents an unattractive picture of Christianity for those committed to contemporary art and an unattractive picture of contemporary art for Christians whose imaginations should be shaped by it. Both contemporary Christian practice and contemporary artistic practice, which are so closely related and mutually reinforcing, are thus presented as having nothing to do with the other.
As a Christian who is a historian of modern and contemporary art, writes art criticism, and curates exhibitions of contemporary art, this is not merely a problem, it poses a personal challenge to my vocation. I have devoted nearly twenty years of my life to studying modern and contemporary art, theory, and art criticism. And so I follow Jesus and work out my salvation in the bowels of the contemporary art world that so scandalizes and infuriates so many of my brothers and sisters in Christ. The Russian Orthodox theologian Father Alexander Schmemann once said that a Christian is one who sees Christ everywhere. I have come to the conclusion that if Christian critics and intellectuals can’t find Christ in the contemporary art world then all I can suggest is that they have not looked closely enough. And looking closely is what an art critic as well as a Christian is supposed to do. For it is in looking closely at the world, including art, that we can open ourselves up to the presence of Christ. And that is risky business, indeed; perhaps too risky for many who serve as the cultural gatekeepers of our souls.
Read the rest of "Altars to Unknown Gods."
This seems like a good place to reference an article in the New York Times today under the headline "Those Monks Could Draw." You may find it here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/19/arts/design/19drawing.html
The slide show is interesting. Conclusion, Medieval Monks were somewhat overly taken with the concept of "line." I wonder why? What is the connection between the intellectual and religious environment of that time to an art that was expressed emphasizing one of the features of the trinity of classic art (line, form, and texture.)
Posted by: Tracy Shier | June 19, 2009 at 06:05 PM