Between: April 2020

Wednesday 29 April 2020

So that nothing may be lost

Here is the reflection I shared in the lunchtime Eucharist for St Martin-in-the-Fields:

In my previous parish we used to begin our Evening Communion services with a call to worship from the Wild Goose Resource Group that began with 'Gather us in' and went on to describe the diversity of all those gathered in. It connects with our Gospel reading today (John 6.35-40) in that Jesus said the will of God the Father, who sent him into the world, is that Jesus should lose nothing of all that God the Father has given to him and raise it up on the last day.

Earlier in this same chapter we have been given an example of this in the feeding of the 5,000 where, at the end of the meal, all the fragments of bread were gathered up so that nothing may be lost. Jesus then gives this story of meeting basic needs a cosmic or eschatological twist when he later says it ‘is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day’.

These words come in the middle of Jesus’ teaching about being the Bread of Life, which followed the feeding of the 5,000. When Jesus gave thanks over the bread, the word used is ‘eucharistesas’, the word which gives us ‘Eucharist’. Jesus shared the bread around in communion, then, when everyone was satisfied, he instructed his disciples to pick up the fragments using that same phrase, ‘so that nothing may be lost.’ Just as none of this ‘eucharisticized’ bread was lost after the feeding, so, because ‘Jesus is the bread of life, [those who] see and believe in him … receive eternal life [and] become a fragment which he will gather up on the last day.’ (John, Richard Burridge, BRF 1998)

This is the reason why Christ came, which he revealed both here and in the parables he told about things that were lost; the lost sheep and coin. The shepherd and woman in those two stories are exactly the same; because of their concern for the sheep and coin which are lost, they will not give up searching until these have been found. The sheep and the coin are loved and this love is revealed or proved through the search.

The point of those parables is for us to know that we are similarly loved by God because he also searches for us until we are found. That search is the story told in the Gospels; that Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he laid down his own life for us becoming obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross – in order that all might be safely gathered in as those who are gathered in rise with him and return to God. Christ went on that search to seek and save those who are lost and thereby to ensure that none shall be lost and all shall be safely gathered in. We are loved by God so much that his Son left all he had in heaven to become a human being and die to gather us in. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, searches for all souls with God’s attentive love, looking and listening, finding and carrying; carrying us home, like a sheep on the shoulders, from the cliff edges of our lives.

Those who are lost almost universally consider themselves worthless but these parables and this story of the fragments gathered up specifically deny that assumption. What is lost is actually the most precious thing or person of all; the person or thing for which everything else will be given up or set aside. What is lost and found, discarded but then gathered up, is us. We are the ones for whom Christ searches at the expense of all that he has, including, in the end, his own life. We are the most precious lost person for whom he searches, the discarded fragment that will not be overlooked and will not be wasted. We are precious, we are loved.

Christ came to gather up and reconcile to God all the disparate fragments of our lives that none should be lost, even through death. This is why he speaks of the kingdom of God as being a banquet to which all, especially all who have experienced exclusion, are invited. It is why he states that there is room for all – many rooms - in his Father’s house and that he goes there to prepare places for us. He also calls us to respond in this same way to others and to the resources he provides for us in the world he created.

As a result, we have, I think, a basis for saying with the poet Walt Whitman that: ‘Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost, / No birth, identity, form — no object of the world, / Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing.’ And so we pray, ‘Gather us in, from corner or limelight, from mansion or campsite, from fears and obsession, from tears and depression, from untold excesses, from treasured successes, to meet, to eat, be given a seat, be joined to the vine, be offered new wine, become like the least, be found at the feast.’

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve Scott - The Resurrection Of The Body.

Tuesday 28 April 2020

Helaine Blumenfeld: Undulating Structures – Interview

My latest interview for Artlyst is with Helaine Blumenfeld and concerns her current exhibition, 'Looking Up', at Canary Wharf:

'It is a very timely show. Over the past months, I have felt increasingly concerned that society was moving towards a precipice caused by isolation, lack of empathy, the breakdown in trust, and absence of leadership. I had planned to call the show Towards the Precipice. Many of the works in the show depict broken edges, reflecting this. However, ultimately I felt Looking Up was a title that more clearly represented what I wanted to communicate. This is an incredibly important time when we will either learn to empathise, cooperate or connect, or we will have failed the challenge in front of us.

What will we learn for the future? The show is both warning and antidote, as the majority of pieces show connection and relationship. That is how we can come out of this; through the community, spiritual values, and acknowledgement that we are all human. We will have to look at the world differently. By looking up, we can see a spiritual dimension.'

My other pieces about Helaine Blumenfeld can be found here.

My other Artlyst pieces are:

Interviews:

Articles:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Innocence Mission - Look Out From Your Window.

Stations of the Cross

'Stations of the Cross' is an ongoing series of exhibitions depicting the crucifixion of Christ, curated by Ben Moore, in support of the Missing Tom Fund.

‘Stations of the Cross’ 2014 and 2015 were held at St. Marylebone Parish Church and then at St. Stephen Walbrook in 2018.

These Lenten exhibitions included works by Francis Bacon, Sebastian Horsley, Mat Collishaw, Wolfe Lenkiewicz, Polly Morgan, Paul Benney, Robin Mason, Charlie Mackesy, Alison Jackson and Antony Micallef.

Art Below showcased many of the works on billboard space at London Underground stations that had a link to the theme including Kings Cross, Temple, Angel, Charing Cross and St.Paul’s.

A website documenting the exhibitions has been created and includes two articles I have written about reactions to these exhibitions. One explores protest or engagement in terms of Church responses to controversial art and the other reflects on the 2018 exhibition and reactions to it.

Proceeds from the 'Stations of the Cross' exhibition go to the 'Missing Tom' fund, which was started up specifically to raise money to support the search for Thomas Moore. Tom left his family home in 2003. He was 31 years old. His friends and family have not heard from him since then. With the support of the Missing People Charity his family continue to search for Tom.

www.missingtom.com

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lou Reed - Dime Store Mystery.

Saturday 25 April 2020

Windows on the world (275)

Johannesburg, 2019

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Brothers and Sisters - I Shall Be Released.

Friday 24 April 2020

Looking Up: The vision of Helaine Blumenfeld

My latest review for Church Times is of Helaine Blumenfeld's 'Looking Up' exhibition at Canary Wharf:

'On the opening day of the exhibition, she says, “I saw people pausing and reflecting on the work and the world.” That is what she had hoped for, as she believes that if we are able to approach a work of art open to its effect, then we can have a revelation.

It is also, she believes, a very timely show. Over the past months, she has “felt increasingly concerned that society was moving towards a precipice caused by isolation, lack of empathy, the breakdown in trust, and absence of leadership”. She had originally planned to call the show “Towards the Precipice”. The exhibition is both warning and antidote, with works depicting broken edges reflecting the precipice but with other works showing connection and relationship. That is how we can come out of this, she believes: through community, spiritual values, and acknowledgement that we are all human. In doing so, we will have to learn look at the world in a different way; by looking up to see a spiritual dimension and also by acknowledging the crisis of our climate.'

Helaine Blumenfeld's exhibition can be viewed online at https://hignellgallery.com/exhibitions/29/works/. The exhibition featured in my recent Thought for the Week at St Martin-in-the-Fields.

My earlier pieces about her work can be found here and here. Other of my pieces for Church Times can be found here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pēteris Vasks - The Fruit Of Silence.

Thursday 23 April 2020

HeartEdge workshops

HeartEdge is now offering three weekly online workshops - a Sermon Preparation workshop and a Community of Practitioners meeting live with Revd Dr Sam Wells and a Biblical Studies masterclass with Revd Dr Simon Woodman, all of which may be of interest to church practitioners.

Join Simon Woodman each Monday evening, 7.30-9.00pm for a Biblical Studies Masterclass: a lecture followed by discussion, with handouts. This will look at the New Testament Epistles; introducing the genre, looking at issues such as dating and authorship, and then working through each letter individually addressing key themes and issues. Register in advance for this meeting:
https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZ0rc-msqD8sEtE7n_X9u17Jl6R5CvzjjI5e?fbclid=IwAR0mvzTZEfQfJW1Umk511vPeWG9ogpdHlEs_xbgQnPFphLDWdqGt-vwBvGw

Every Tuesday at 4.30pm there is a live Facebook preaching workshop focusing on the forthcoming Sunday's lectionary readings. Sam Wells and Sally Hitchiner discuss the readings in the light of current events and share thoughts on approaches to the passages. See the earlier discussions in the Videos section of this page.

Every Wednesday at 4.30pm on Zoom there is also be a Community of Practitioners workshop. This is an opportunity for ministers and other leaders of HeartEdge churches to meet together to reflect on issues relating to congregational renewal through commerce, culture and compassion. We read together the book 'A Future Bigger than the Past: Catalysing kingdom communities' and support one another virtually in these unprecedented times. Join HeartEdge at https://www.heartedge.org/main/sign-up and message us (jonathan.evens@smitf.org) asking for an invitation if you want to take part.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buddy & Julie Miller - Thoughts At 2AM.

You can help us keep our doors open…

Covid-19 Emergency Appeal: please respond today…

Dear Friend

Given the current crisis, we’ve had no choice but to close our doors for the first time in the long history of St Martin-in-the-Fields.

Although our buildings have fallen silent, our vital work in the community must still continue – now, more than ever. That’s why today, we’re launching our St Martin-in-the-Fields Covid-19 Emergency Appeal to visitors and supporters like you.

DONATE NOW

You’ll know how important it is that we’re able to provide people who are homeless – or vulnerably housed – with shelter, food and advice when they need it most.

During this time, we are working incredibly hard to ensure that people continue to receive the support they need. We are helping people who were sleeping rough into accommodation to enable them to self-isolate, and are delivering food and other essentials. Your extra support at this time could provide frontline workers with the supplies they need to continue their work in spite of the unfolding challenges of this crisis.

Please, take a second to send your urgent gift today. I can assure you; your generosity will make a real difference to people’s lives at this incredibly frightening time.

I hope you and your loved ones are safe and well. Thank you so much for your continued support.

Revd Dr Sam Wells
Vicar - St Martin-in-the-Fields

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

St Martin's Voices - Agnus Dei.

Searching for a story to live by

Here's my reflection from today's Eucharist for St Martin-in-the-Fields:

‘He's a glamorous saint, says Dr Michael Carter, a historian at English Heritage, ‘… there … on his charger slaying a dragon.’ ‘His story, he continues, speaking, of course, of St George, ‘is something which crosses cultures and periods.’ St George ‘represents honour, bravery and he had royal and military associations.’ ‘There's so much in his legend that resonates with English values. He really is a patron of modern Britain in that he's quite diverse and international. It's down to the man, myth and mayhem that he became so popular.’

How to understand St George and how to celebrate St George’s Day? Michael Carter, in speaking about the man, the myth and the mayhem, reminds us that when we are dealing with a figure like St George we are wrestling with instances of overacceptance. Overacceptance involves fitting a story that has come your way - which often you didn’t invite or go looking for - into a larger story. For Christians that is ultimately the larger story of what God is doing with the world, but, as in the case of St George, it also includes, for example, the history of martyrdom within the Christian tradition and, in England, the story of what it means to be or become English and to be patriotic.

Sam Wells makes substantial use of the concept of overacceptance in his book on the place of improvisation in Christian life and ethical decision making. He says that, ‘Finding a way to live … is about identifying some kind of a story that traces together a series of otherwise inexplicable circumstances. Once you’ve done that, you then set about locating where you are in that story. And then you act your part in that story. You could pretty well summarise the human quest as simply as this: searching for a story to live by, discovering one’s place in that story, and living into that place in the story.’

When it comes to St George, as we’ve already reflected, there’s a whole set of interconnected and sometimes conflicting overarching stories, so we may need to take some time sorting through the different stories and trying to disentangle it order to find a story about our Patron Saint within which we may be happy to locate ourselves. For example, we might want to note that as well as being England’s Patron Saint, George is also the Patron Saint of Georgia, Bulgaria, Greece, India, Syria, Portugal and many cities – for example Genoa, Beirut, Rio de Janeiro, Barcelona, Moscow and Venice, among others. So, we might want to remember this Saint as an International Saint and explore the many different ways in which celebrations and ceremonies in his honour are held around the world, as well as here in England.

Another aspect of in his story is that St George is the patron of soldiers, armourers, farmers and sufferers of the plague and syphilis. During the Middle Ages, St George was regarded as one of the 'Fourteen Holy Helpers' - a group of saints people turned to for assistance in times of need, such as times of plague. That is an aspect of his story that may connect him to the story of lockdown in which we are currently living. That, and patronage of farmers - his name means ‘earth-worker’ – may help us find aspects of his story which are not to do with warfare and the military.

As well as exploring and disentangling the big stories of which St George has become a part, we can also return to the source, which, in his case, is the story of a Christian Roman soldier named Georgios, born in Cappadocia, Turkey around AD270, and martyred at Nicomedia, or Lydda, in modern day Israel, in the Roman province of Palestine in AD303, the beginning of the Diocletian persecution. Like many saints, St George was described as a martyr after he died for his Christian faith. It is believed that during the persecutions of the Emperor Diocletian, he was executed for refusing to make a sacrifice in honour of the pagan gods.

This source story connects with one of the overaccepting, overarching stories that we mentioned earlier; the history of martyrdom within the Christian tradition. The Greek word "martus" signifies a "witness". It is in this sense that the term first appears in Christian literature; the Apostles were "witnesses" of all that they had observed in the public life of Christ. The Apostles, from the beginning as the story of St Stephen makes clear, faced grave dangers, until eventually almost all suffered death for their convictions. Thus, within the lifetime of the Apostles, the term martus came to be used in the sense of a witness who at any time might be called upon to deny what he testified to, under penalty of death. From this stage the transition was easy to the ordinary meaning of the term, as used ever since in Christian literature; a martyr, or witness of Christ, as one who suffers death rather than deny the faith.

There continue to be Christians who experience persecution or martyrdom today and we must pray for and support our brothers and sisters in the persecuted Church. It is, probably, unlikely that we will share with them in that experience, even so, we can still share with them in the other meaning of martus; that of being a witness who gives testimony. We are called, with the Apostles, Saints and Martyrs to be those who tell our stories of encountering Jesus to others. We don’t have to understand or be able to explain the key doctrines of the Christian faith. We don’t have to be able to tell people the two ways to live or have memorized the sinner’s prayer or have tracts to hand out in order to be witnesses to Jesus. All we need do is to tell our story; to say this is how Jesus made himself real to me and this is the difference that has made. That may even be the very best way to celebrate St George’s Day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

T Bone Burnett - River Of Love.

Monday 20 April 2020

Coming alive to the Spirit

Here's the reflection I shared during today's lunchtime Eucharist for St Martin-in-the-Fields:

Yesterday, in the Inspired to Follow group, we were looking at an early Florentine image of God as creator depicted as an elderly white man with a long beard, which led us into a discussion as whether God is more accurately depicted as abstract essence, rather than a person with a gender and ethnicity.

Those two strands of thought can also be found here, too, in the distinction Jesus makes between flesh and Spirit (John 3. 1-8). His description of Spirit as being like the wind makes it clear that he is making a distinction between what is tangible, visible and known – the flesh – and what is intangible, invisible and unknown – the Spirit. It is easy to hear that distinction being made and assume that Jesus is saying there is a dualistic division between flesh and Spirit and we have to choose one over the other. Many people in the history of the Church have made just that assumption.

Yet that is to forgot the way in which John’s Gospel begins; ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God … And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth’ (John 1.1, 14), Through the incarnation of Jesus, flesh and Spirit are united and made one. Jesus came into the world to unify flesh and Spirit, to show that the human and the divine can be held together and combined in one; the divine can be human and the human divine.

God was revealed in our humanity in order that we recognise divinity – the image of God - within us. That is what we see here in the distinction between our first birth from our mothers’ womb through which we begin to have experience of the tangible, the visible and the known, and a second birth through water and the Spirit by means of which we begin to acknowledge and recognise our experience of the intangible, the invisible and the unknown. Both are life experiences; the first is immediately apparent to us through our physical birth; the second is an awareness that has to be awakened in us – an awakening that comes unpredictably in line with the unpredictable movements of the Spirit, which blows where it chooses.

The distinctions made by Jesus in the Gospel of John between flesh and Spirit, below and above, darkness and light etc can help, however, in understanding what it is in us that prevents our coming alive to the Spirit. Stephen Verney, in his wonderful commentary of John’s Gospel called ‘Water into Wine,’ say that, when he makes these distinctions, Jesus is speaking about two different levels or orders to reality. What he means by this are different patterns of society, each with a different centre or ruling power. In the first, ‘the ruling principle is the dictator ME, my ego-centric ego, and the pattern of society is people competing with, manipulating and trying to control each other.’ In the second, ‘the ruling principle is the Spirit of Love, and the pattern of society is one of compassion – people giving to each other what they really are, and accepting what others are, recognising their differences, and sharing their vulnerability.’

These two orders or patterns for society are at war with each other and we are caught up in the struggle that results. Choosing our side in this struggle is a key question for us as human beings, the question being ‘so urgent that our survival depends on finding the answer.’ Verney writes that: ‘we can see in our world order the terrible consequences of our ego-centricity. We have projected it into our institutions, where it has swollen up into a positive force of evil. We are all imprisoned together, in a system of competing nation states, on the edge of a catastrophe which could destroy all life on our planet.’ He was writing in the 1980s, but could have been describing today’s nationalism.

It is that ego-centricity and self-centredness which prevents us from coming alive to the Spirit. It is a pre-condition of coming alive to the Spirit that we look away from ourselves in order to see God and others. Beyond this, there is a degree of unpredictability in our awakening to the Spirit which means that we may only be able to tell our personal stories of coming alive to that which is invisible, intangible and beyond our comprehension.

Here is my personal story of resurrection in the form of a meditation. I wonder what features in your story?

When I stand in snow on a mountain slope viewing a cobalt lake,
I come alive.
When the morning mist forms a white sea on the Somerset levels, islanding trees,
I come alive.
When my daughter nestles up and hugs me tight,
I come alive.
When my wife and I lie, skin touching, sweat mingling in the heat of summer and passion,
I come alive.
When a friend listens with understanding and without advising,
I come alive.
When I sing and dance in the echoes of an empty Church,
I come alive.
When words cannot express Your praise and I sing in tongues,
I come alive.
When I hear the rustle of angel’s wings above me in the eaves,
I come alive.

I come alive to endurance
when I see a hesitant smile form on the face of the Big Issue seller.
I come alive to pain
when I hear a friend’s story of depression and unanswered pleading.
I come alive to patience
when I see a husband answer again the question from his alzheimered wife.
I come alive to injustice
when the Metro contrasts Big Mac obesity lawsuits with African famine victims.
I come alive to suffering
when I see Sutherland’s Crucifixion and read Endo’s Silence.
I come alive to grief
when I remember the aircraft shattered and scattered across Kosovan heights.

I come alive
when I am touched and see and hear
the beautiful or broken, the passionate or poor.
The mystery or madness
of the Other in which God
meets and greets me
and calls forth the response
that is love.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

King's X - It's Love.

Sunday 19 April 2020

Airbrushed from Art History: An update

This weekend ArtWay have republished an article exploring Andy Warhol's engagement with Catholicism and the impact on his art and legacy. Similarly, Artlyst have published an article exploring the enigma of Salvador's Dali's engagement with faith, while I have posted a piece on this blog about the Catholic wellsprings and work of Dali's friend, the Viennese Visionary Realism Ernst Fuchs. Each of these adds to the argument I have been making over several years that the level and extent of the engagement between the Christianity and the Arts has been more significant than is generally acknowledged.

In particular my ‘Airbrushed from art history’ series on this blog surveyed the Christian contribution to the Visual Arts which is broad and significant but is far from having been comprehensively documented. See below for the Index, links and other related writings for this series.

To explore the contribution made by Christianity to the Arts is important because the story of modern and contemporary Arts is often told primarily as a secular story. To redress this imbalance has significance in: encouraging support for those who explore aspects of Christianity in and through the Arts; providing role models for emerging artists who are Christians; and enabling appreciation of the nourishment and haunting which can be had by acknowledging the contribution which Christianity has made to the Arts.

My co-authored book The Secret Chord explored aspects of a similar interplay between faith and music (and the Arts, more broadly). Posts related to the themes of The Secret Chord can be found here. I have also posted an outline summary of the Christian contribution to rock and pop music. Pieces on contemporary choral and classical music are here and here.

Tracing the connections between artists that were either part of the Church and were engaged by the Church in the 20th century is an important element in the argument that the level and extent of the engagement between the Church and the Arts has been more significant than is generally acknowledged. Some of my posts tracing these connections include:

My key literature posts are:

The index to my 'Airbrushed from Art History' series of posts is as follows:

Additions to the series and related posts are as follows:

Additional posts are at https://joninbetween.blogspot.com/search/label/airbrushed%20from%20art%20history.

On my sabbatical in 2014 I enjoyed the opportunity to visit churches in Belgium, England, France and Switzerland to see works of modern and contemporary art. I documented these visits at http://joninbetween.blogspot.com/search/label/sabbatical and they resulted in a series of Church of the Month reports for ArtWay: Aylesford Priory, Canterbury Cathedral, Chapel of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, Hem, Chelmsford Cathedral, Churches in Little Walsi ngham, Coventry Cathedral, Église de Saint-Paul à Grange-Canal, Eton College Chapel, Lumen, Metz Cathedral, Notre Dame du Léman, Notre-Dame de Toute Grâce, Plateau d’Assy,R omont, Sint Martinuskerk Latem, St Aidan of Lindisfarne, St Alban Romford, St. Andrew Bobola Polish RC Church, St. Margaret’s Church, Ditchling, and Ditchling Museum of Art + Craft, St Mary the Virgin, Downe, and St Pa ul Goodmayes, as well as earlier reports of visits to sites associated with Marian Bohusz-Szyszko, Marc Chagall, Jean Cocteau, Antoni Gaudi and Hen r i Matisse.

My visual meditations for ArtWay include work by María Inés Aguirre, Giampaolo Babetto, Marian Bohusz-Szyszko, Alexander de Cadenet, Christopher Clack, Marlene Dumas, Terry Ffyffe, Antoni Gaudi, Nicola Green, Maciej Hoffman, Giacomo Manzù, Michael Pendry, Maurice Novarina, Regan O'Callaghan, Ana Maria Pacheco, John Piper, Albert Servaes, Henry Sh elton and Anna Sikorska.

Other of writings for ArtWay can be found here. My pieces for Church Times can be found here and those for Art+Christianity are here. My Artlyst pieces are:

Interviews:

Articles:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill Fay - Be Not So Fearful.

Ernst Fuchs: Catholicism, Chapels and Bible

'The paintings and writings of Ernst Fuchs, co-founder of the Vienna School of Fantastic Realism, helped inspire the global visionary art movement. Fuchs directly influenced H.R. Giger, Mati Klarwein, Robert Venosa, Brigit Marlin, and dozens of others, but even if they never studied with him, all visionary artists – those who aspire to portray dimensions of visionary inner space - look to him as a superlative master.'

‘He is known mainly for his dazzling draughtsmanship and paintings of psychedelic cherubs or biblical scenes, such as Moses and the Burning Bush, and numerous portraits of Christ. He was also an internationally recognized sculptor, stage designer and print maker, composer and poet. Fuchs was the one of the first contemporary artists able to evoke multidimensional luminous worlds of psychedelics.’ ‘Paintings by Fuchs include bizarre, exquisite, uncanny beings, esoteric religious symbolism and detail comparable to Van Eyck. He revived the traditional mixed (mische) technique, using egg tempera to build forms in grisaille then glaze with oils for luminous depth.’

Fuchs inspired the founding of the Vienna Academy of Visionary Art to train artists of the future. The artist’s villa in Vienna, designed by 19th-century Austrian architect Otto Wagner, is now a museum displaying a vast treasury of his masterworks.

‘In 1947, Fuchs attended an exhibition where he was able to examine Surrealist paintings up close for the first time. Among them was The Lugubrious Game by Salvador Dali - and it had the seventeen year old painter enthralled:

"That was the first Dali - one of the best - so small in scale, but we could all see, from the first, how well these people could draw and paint. This precision, I decided, is something I must have. In Dali I found a confirmation of what I wanted to achieve."

This was the opening of the eye: the desire to portray the inner world of dreams and fantasms with a refined technique. But something more had happened: Fuchs had found in Dali's vision something recognizable, something undefineable, yet betokening kinship and affinity - the tacit recognition of shared vision.’

Ramon Kubicek writes that Fuchs and the Vienna School of Fantastic Realism were the principal exponents of ‘a small tradition of “veristic surrealism,” interested in visionary subjects’ that has continued to this day. The artist Johfra described his works as ‘Surrealism based on studies of psychology, religion, the bible, astrology, antiquity, magic, witchcraft, mythology and occultism’; a description that may have relevance to the broader movement. Although this movement today is primarily representative of esoteric, new age or occult spiritualities, in Fuchs’ work it has a significant Catholic wellspring. For Fuchs, this was another point of synergy with his friend Dali who, he said, ‘always was in a Catholic period.’ Dali and Fuchs became close friends with Fuchs stating that when they met they did not discuss painting, but physics and theology.

Fuchs was born in 1930 in Vienna. His father, Maximilian Fuchs, son of an orthodox Jewish family, had turned down a career as a Rabbi, leaving his theological studies uncompleted. He married Leopoldine, a Christian. When the Nazis occupied Austria in March 1938, Maximilian Fuchs emigrated to Shanghai. His son remained in Vienna together with his mother. Nazi legislation made it illegal for Leopoldine to raise her son. He was deported to a transit camp for children of mixed racial origin and Leopoldine Fuchs then agreed to a formal divorce from her husband, thus saving her son from the extermination camp. In 1942 he was baptised, an event of the utmost significance for him that determined his future life and work.

Fuchs began to draw from an early age. In 1945, after the end of the war and aged 15, he enrolled in painting at the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts where his first meeting with Arik Brauer, Rudolf Hausner, Wolfgang Hutter and Anton Lehmden took place in the class of Professor Albert Paris von Gütersloh. In 1948, together with Brauer, Hutter, Hausner and Lehmden, Fuchs founded the Vienna School of Fantastic Realism. Renaissance painting - especially the Danube school - was to be redefined. Alchemy, Christian and Jewish mysticism, but also deep psychology, such as dealing with the pain and suffering of the world wars, determined the thematic worlds of this young artist group. It was an Apocalyptic art, ‘full of grotesque monsters rendered in bright, bold colours,’ with ‘architecture from different periods, from the Tower of Babel to Renaissance palaces and modern cities.’

Johann Muschik later coined the term Vienna School of Fantastic Realism, under which these artists became known worldwide: ‘These Painters are Realists for their attention to detail, fantastic is the juxtaposition, the scene. One cannot call them Surrealists, though they evolved out of Surrealism, because missing is the absurd, the preference for paranoia, trance and hallucination.’

An early painting, the 1945 'Crucifixion and Self Portrait with Inge beside the Cross,' includes fellow artist Inge Pace, whose strong Christian religious devotion made an impact on Fuchs. In 1946 some of this small group held an exhibition in the foyer of the Vienna Concert Hall. Their works, thought of as a branch of surrealism, were removed after a public outcry. ‘Teaching at the Academy focused on the techniques of the Old Masters. Fuchs revived the old mixed technique of underpainting in tempera then adding glazes of oil paint on top. This produced a luminosity to his paintings and also allowed very detailed imagery.’ The lack of any positive response from the Vienna art world and his inability to earn a living from his art led him to follow his friend Friedensreich Hundertwasser - then Fritz Stowasser - to Paris in 1949. He was to spend twelve of his most important creative years there.

In 1956 he was accepted into the Catholic Dormition Monastery in Jerusalem, where he worked for one year on his largest painting, the ‘Last Supper’, in the refectory. He devoted all his energies in this period to furthering Jewish-Christian understanding and to working as a church painter gaining a commission to paint the Drei Mysterien des heiligen Rosenkranzes (Three Mysteries of the Sacred Rosary) for a newly-built church in Vienna.

This triptych, painted between 1958 and 1960, caused a storm of protest. Some of his most vehement detractors demanded that the pictures be removed from the church. Each of the parts measures three times three metres; they are painted on 12 goatskins that were sewn together but left uncut at the edges, and executed in the artist´s special mixed technique. A kind of large-scale parchment painting hung on light metal rods by means of loops and looking like banners floating in free space, they remind the congregation of the central events in the story of Redemption representing the joyful, sorrowful and glorious mysteries of the rosary.

Fuchs returned to Vienna and subsequent international recognition, opening a gallery that became a meeting point for the supporters of Fantastic Realism. Together with Hundertwasser and Arnulf Rainer, in 1959 he founds the "Pintorarium", a universal academy of all creative fields. The Pintorarium was concieved ‘not only a school of painting, but also a school of thought and life.’ It was intended as ‘a home for all creative persons without discrimination regarding the arts, art movements and philosophies, architecture, poetry, film, music, etc.’ The key principle was individual autonomy. Emulation was prohibited and there were no role models.

Fuchs ‘drew inspiration for his extravagant imagery from visionary experiences, which he sought to convey in his iconographic works’ ‘laced with religious symbolism and mystical allusions.’ His work over the course of his career increasingly focused on religious symbolism with biblical works including Psalm 69 (1960) and Adam and Eve in front of the Tree of Knowledge (1984). ‘His paintings from the late 50s to the present day have extraordinary visionary power. Babylonian Cherubs, visions of Christ and other mythological subjects explore the roots of middle-eastern religious experience.’

In 1990 he began work on the Apocalypse Chapel at Klagenfurt in Austria. He created oil paintings covering the entire interior of the chapel of parish church St. Egid creating monumental frescos to the Apocalypse of John which took him about 20 years to complete. The Apocalypse Chapel was originally commissioned by Monseignor Marcus Mairitsch. Although the chapel is no more than 40 sq. metres, its arched ceilings and many walls are covered with visions of 'the last days' from Fuchs’attempt to depict the 12th chapter of John's Book of Revelation. It is his Sistine Chapel.

K. Ziegler notes that, with architect Manfred Fuchsbichler, from 1992 to 1994, Fuchs constructed and decorated an extension to the Parish church of St James in Thal. Fuchs wanted to portray the Paradise, the Heavenly Jerusalem, saying: ‘You have to recognize from a distance: this is a sacred place. Wherever the eyes look, there has to be something to see.’

The design of the entire complex combines impressive lighting effects with a fantastic variety of colours and shapes. The exterior of the church was completely redesigned as the church expanded. A pebble path leads around the church and into the building to the altar. It is designed as a pilgrimage route and commemorates St. James, the patron saint of pilgrims. The building is covered with three different-sized gable roof structures that span a trapezoidal plan. The entire building has the character of a pointed crystal, which has been adapted to the roof shapes of the old building. The facade of the new church building is made of hard fire bricks and patinated copper sheets. The walls of the old building are plastered, painted turquoise and partly decorated with gravel applications. On the facade of the apse of the old church there are monograms made of pebbles of Maria (the heart), Jesus Christ (the tree of life), and Joseph (the house).

A canopy with a red beam structure dominates the entrance area. The thick glass doors at the entrance are opened with handles made from ram's horn, the favourite sacrificial animal of the biblical people of Israel. The symbols Alpha and Omega as well as crossed keys and the Christ monogram are attached to the glass doors. Inside you can see an open roof structure painted in rainbow colours that is reminiscent of the desert tent that the Israelites erected in the wilderness. The rainbow symbolises the covenant that Noah made with God. Daylight comes in through seventeen triangular dormer windows of different sizes and over vertical pilaster strips mirrored with crystal glass elements. The rows of seats are wavy and add to the special atmosphere.

A glass window in the apse shows a picture of Maria Hilf, a copy of the famous painting by Lukas Cranach in Innsbruck Cathedral. Images of the calling of the disciples and the Transfiguration can also be found in the apse; both include St James. The symbol of the apostle James, the scallop, can be found on the walls, the holy water basin is shaped as a scallop shell, the backrests of the plastic benches show the same motif. A fossil of a scallop shell, which was found in a quarry in Retznei, is in a glass stele behind the priest's seat. A crystal cross with Svarovski crystals and Murano glass elements draws attention to the central altar, which is also made of crystal glass.

Finally, published in 1996 in an edition of only 20,000 copies, Fuchs considered his leather-bound and gilded Bible, richly illustrated by over 80 colour plates of his paintings, to be his crowning achievement. With his first illustrations of the Bible, he hoped to surpass the heretofore best-known Bible illustrators of this century: his friend Salvador Dali, and painter Marc Chagall. He wanted to create a gold ingot and, in accordance with this design, the Bible was bound in calfskin and covered with a gold folium. This was to emphasize the value of this ‘most valuable treasure of humanity.’ ‘With this, I am transforming the profane covetousness of men for gold into a yearning for what is holy, into reverence for the great Mystery,’ Fuchs explained.

‘Art is nearness to God received without effort,’ he wrote: ‘This is the concise meaning and basis of a theology of art that is age old and has maintained again and again that jubilation erupts when God is near. Through that jubilation, the artist’s nearness to God was brought through creative service without sweat or torment.’ ‘What is religion,’ he asks, ‘if not the relationship of the now to its beginnings?’ As a result, the work of art ‘has its source in the desire to create a means of transcending time, entering eternity.’ ‘Thus the artist, in contemplation, creates both history and eternity.’ (‘One Source: Sacred Journeys – A celebration of Spirit & Art’)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Larry Norman - Nightmare #71.

Artlyst: Salvador Dalí The Enigma of Faith

My latest article for Artlyst explores the enigmatic faith of Salvador Dali:

'Amidst these confusions and contentions, Salvador Dalí created some of the most popular yet controversial religious paintings of the twentieth century; ‘The Sacrament of the Last Supper’, from 1955, being one example. Theologian Paul Tillich considered the work’ junk’ and said he was horrified by the depiction of Jesus as ‘A sentimental but very good athlete on an American baseball team.’ By contrast, both Paul Myhre and Michael Novak identified the Eucharistic character of the painting as an answer to the many theological critics who have reviled it. Novak claimed, ‘Dalí gives us the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist.’

How to understand this degree of contestation and confusion? I want to suggest that Dalí himself provides a means to understand through his two key concepts of the paranoiac-critical analysis method and Nuclear-Mysticism.'

My other Artlyst pieces are:

Interviews:

Articles:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Blind Boys of Alabama (featuring Justin Vernon) - Every Grain Of Sand.