Wikio - Top Blogs - Religion and belief
Showing posts with label art of contemplation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art of contemplation. Show all posts

Sunday, 7 August 2022

Poets paying attention to prayer

I've written a lot on the theme of paying attention equating to prayer. See, for example, my series of posts entitled 'Seeing is Receiving: The art of contemplation' or my talk on 'Paying attention through art.'

I've recently come across W.H. Auden and David Miller saying essentially the same things:

W. H. Auden once said: “Choice of attention—to pay attention to this and ignore that—is to the inner life what choice of action is to the outer.”

He also said, "I think what is important is to teach ... the technique of prayer. That is, the technique of paying attention and of forgetting oneself ..."

"To pray is to pay attention to something or someone other than oneself. Whenever a man so concentrates his attention - on a landscape, a poem, a geometrical problem, an idol, or the True God ..."

David Miller expands on this in the notes of his Introduction to 'The Alchemist's Mind':

'“Attentiveness is the rarest and purest form of generosity” (Simone Weil, quoted in Jacques Cabaud, Simone Weil: A Fellowship in Love, NY: Channel Press, 1964, p 251). (The phrase occurs in a letter to the poet Joë Bousquet.) If the philosopher Nicholas Malebranche said that attention “is the natural prayer of the soul”, Weil echoed this, consciously or not, when she wrote that “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love”. (Weil, Gravity and Grace, tr Emma Crawford and Mario von der Ruhr, London/NY: Routledge, 2002, p 117. The Malebranche quotation is known to many of us, and certainly to me, from Paul Celan’s famous speech “The Meridian” (1960), in: Celan, Collected Prose, tr Rosmarie Waldrop, NY: Routledge, 2003, p 50.) (No space here for going into Weil’s fierce critique of the imagination in relation to her espousal of attention.) See my essay “Robert Lax’s 21 pages”, op cit, where I speak of attention or attentiveness in relation to a contemplative or meditative approach. Attention is what persists, obdurately, and penetrates and uncovers... disinterestedly, and by staying with its subject, rather than by some act of force. Attention is faithful to what it attends to. It aspires to a form of lucidity, no matter how complex (and without ignoring this complexity or trying to falsely simplify it). It is an absorption into things, but a thoughtful one.'

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

Arvo Pärt - Annum Per Annum.

Saturday, 20 February 2021

Exploring connections between the Arts and faith

My most recent series here explored the art of contemplation. Entitled Seeing is Receiving, this is a series about art and prayer but is not like any book on prayer you may have read. Most books about prayer are about the words we should speak or, if they are books of prayers, give us the words we are to speak. This is a series using words to bring us to silence. Why? Because when we fall silent we begin to see. Here is the index to the series:

Seeing is Receiving is the latest in my ongoing exploration of connections between the Arts and faith. 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:

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 Walsingham, 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,Romont, 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, St Michael and All Angels Berwick, and St Paul Goodmayes, as well as earlier reports of visits to sites associated with Marian Bohusz-Szyszko, Marc Chagall, Jean Cocteau, Antoni Gaudi and Henri 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, Lakwena Maciver, S. Billie Mandle, Giacomo Manzù, Michael Pendry, Maurice Novarina, Regan O'Callaghan, Ana Maria Pacheco, John Piper, Nicola RavenscroftAlbert Servaes, Henry Shelton, Anna Sikorska and Edmund de Waal.

Interviews for ArtWay include: Sophie Hacker and Peter Koenig. I also interviewed ArtWay founder Marleen Hengelaar Rookmaaker for Artlyst.

I have also reviewed: Art and the Church: A Fractious Embrace, Kempe: The Life, Art and Legacy of Charles Eamer Kempe, and Jazz, Blues, and Spirituals.

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

My pieces for Artlyst are:

Interviews -
Articles -
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

King's X - It's Love.

Friday, 19 February 2021

Seeing is Receiving: The art of contemplation (9)

Conclusion - Receiving

This book has sought to us into silence because silence is the place of seeing and seeing is receiving. As Van Morrison sang in ‘Summertime in England’ when we go through the veil or cross the threshold into silence it’s no longer about why’s and wherefore’s, questions and answers, but is simply about being, about what is. In the stillness, in the silence, in contemplation, is where we see God, creation, others and ourselves, receiving their essence and blessing. We enter a place that is no longer about us - our needs, our questions, our intercessions – but instead is about the other, seeing and receiving what is around and outside of us, but offered to us.

That is where the different journeys of this book wish to take us. The 7 S’s are practices shared by art and contemplative prayer which seek to lead us into seeing. My sabbatical art pilgrimage was to churches that sought to find contemporary expressions of spirituality in order to assist worshippers and visitors in either beginning or deepening this journey. As with Betty Spackman’s A Creature Chronicle there is circularity to these journeys which, because they end in the sparking of new creativity through the Holy Spirit, generate new works that can begin the cycle for us and for others all over again.

Rowan Williams' book Silence and Honey Cakes: The Wisdom of the Desert takes its title from a story about two of the Desert Fathers:

‘… two large boats floating on the river were shown to him. In one of them sat Abba Arsenius and the Holy Spirit of God in complete silence. And in the other boat was Abba Moses, with the angels of God; they were all eating honey cakes.’[i]

A man visits the desert fathers and experiences two approaches to spirituality. One involves abstinence, particularly from speech (silence), while the other involves an open welcome, enjoyment of company and the eating of honey cakes. The man expresses a preference for the latter, which leads another to question how such different paths to God can exist. He then receives a vision in which God accepts both.

Rowan Williams explores this story in terms of our different vocations. I would like to think about it in terms of the two different ways to God that the story juxtaposes.

In one we find God in the world around of us - the people, places, creatures and creations. In addition we use these things as visual or lingual images which reveal aspects of God to us. This is an affirmative way based on the understanding that God's creation is good and that something of the creator can be seen in the creation. This is a way of abundance and of the Arts, where multiple images and experiences build up a composite picture of God. This is the way of Abba Moses in the boat together with honey cakes and the angels of God.

The other way is visualised by Abba Arsenius who is silent in his boat with the Holy Spirit of God. This is the way of abstinence which recognises the inadequacy of every image and word and creature and creation to show or tell us about God. God is always more than any way of describing or imaging him and, therefore, the best way to experience God as is, is to dispense with words and images altogether and go by way of silence and darkness. As a result, this way of experiencing God is known as the negative way or also, sometimes, as the dark night of the soul. While the way of abundance is more easily and readily reflected in the Arts, the Arts can and do engage also with the negative way, as is evidenced by the fact that the phrase ‘dark night of the soul’ derives from a poem by St John of the Cross.

Both ways lead to God, but, as they are polar opposites, they approach God by different routes and therefore we may, at times, have to choose between them and, if we were to follow either to their conclusion, we would have to make an ultimate choice, as Abba's Arsenius and Moses seem in the story to have done. However, it is also possible to combine aspects of both approaches or to follow one way rather than the other at different seasons in our lives.

My thinking about these two ways to God has been informed by that of the poet, dramatist and novelist Charles Williams. His views on these two ways have been summarised as follows:

‘The Way of Affirmation consists in recognizing the immanence of God in all things, and says that appreciation of whom and what God has made may lead us to appreciation of Himself. The Way of Rejection concentrates on the transcendence of God, the recognition that God is never fully contained in His creation; it says that we must renounce all lesser images if we would apprehend His. These two Ways have been expressed by the paradox "This also is Thou; neither is this Thou," and tend generally to illustrate, respectively, Catholic or Protestant thought in their attitudes toward the use of images.

While Williams insists that a complement of both these Ways is necessary to the life of every Christian, and that none of us can walk the Kingdom's narrow road by only affirming or only rejecting ... yet he contends that Christians are usually called primarily to one Way or the other.’ [ii]

While both these ways are ways to God, they are also ways to understanding ourselves; in itself a necessary part of our journey towards God. The greatest commandment is to love God and to love our neighbour as ourselves. Rowan Williams connects these things when he writes that the reason why ‘the desert monks and nuns valued self-awareness’ was that to ‘be a real agent for God to connect with [our] neighbour … each of us needs to know the specific truth about himself or herself.’[iii]

These two different ways to God that we have been considering provide, as you would expect, different ways in which to encounter and understand ourselves. On the Affirmative Way, the pre-eminent metaphor may be that of light. Light enables us to see all that is around us. As a result, we can then also perceive ourselves. When we look around us and see other people, creatures and objects, we can undertake an exercise in comparing and contrasting; thinking to ourselves I’m similar to this and I’m different from that. This can take us right back to the creation stories in Genesis and, in particular, that story of Adam naming the animals. As we have reflected, names in ancient culture were symbols of the essence of the thing named; so, Adam looked at each creature before him seeing its essence and named that characteristic. As he did so, he was himself looking for a helpmate. When he had named all the animals he had still not found his helpmate. The animals were too different to him to fulfil that role but, having encountered difference, he was then immediately able to recognise his similarity to Eve and realise that they were intended to be helpmates for each other.

These thoughts connect with the South African word ‘Ubuntu’, which essentially means ‘I am because you are’, and the phrase ‘I-Thou’ explored by the philosopher Martin Buber, who wrote about ‘the I-Thou relationship, where our human relationships can only be truly authentic when we open ourselves fully to the other and encounter them as whole and unique persons.’ St Anthony the Great spoke about dependency being at the heart of community and our belonging to one another when he said that ‘Our life and our death is with our neighbour’[iv] and, as a result Rowan Williams states that ‘only in the relations we have with one another can the love and mercy of God appear and become effective.’[v]

On the Negative Way, the pre-eminent metaphor for knowing ourselves may be that of silence. In silence, we hear the working of our own minds, we hear our self-justification and unmask our need to defend our territory, establish our position, and defend our ego. As Rowan Williams states, ‘Our words help to strengthen the illusions with which we surround, protect and comfort ourselves; without silence, we shan’t get any closer to knowing who we are before God.’ Our ‘sense of the authentically human, depends and can only depend on the quality of our silence – the need to let go of words in certain ways, that willingness to occupy a space before God which is not a defended territory, defended against God or against anyone else. And because we occupy a space that isn’t a defended territory, it is space both for God and for each other. We are moving beyond our fascination, our hypnosis by the ideas of choice and individuality as conceived in the modern world, moving towards the possibility of a human life characterised by consistent instinctive responsiveness to the truth, acquiring an instinctive taste for truth. A taste for truth, that’s to say an appetite for what is real, so strong that it allows us constantly to keep ourselves in question, under scrutiny, not in an obsessional way but just going on asking, ‘Who is being served here? The ego or the truth?’[vi]

Which boat are we sitting in? In which would we wish to sit? Are our personalities fundamentally compatible with sharing silence or honey cakes? Have we found ways to combine the affirmative and the negative ways or to move between the two at different times and seasons of our lives?

Both are routes to the same place; that place where we encounter God, creation, others and ourselves as each actually is and only for the sake of enjoying each as each is. If we have followed the negative way that will have been achieved by the stripping away of all the instrumental reasons we may have had for encounter. If we have followed the affirmative way that will be because the never-ceasing depth and richness of encounter will have brought us a place of simple and genuine awe and wonder.

Lakwena Maciver’s affirmative artistic practice involves distilling ideas and encapsulating them in a single evocative phrase surrounded by kaleidoscopic patterns and bold colours. Her phrases are painted prayers and meditations, her adornments are signifiers assigning value and glory, her content is future oriented; looking for a future that is ‘higher, deeper, fuller, sweeter, older, newer, bolder, brighter and more glorious.’ This can be clearly seen in the phrases she chooses and uses which include: ‘Looking For A Brighter Day’, ‘Nothing Can Separate Us’, ‘Ever After’, ‘Imagine Eternity’, ‘I Remember Paradise’, ‘Just Passing Through’, ‘The Future’s Gold’, ‘Still I Rise’, ‘Raise Your Hopes’, ‘Your Love Keeps Lifting me Higher’, ‘The Highest Love’, ‘The Best Is Yet To Come’.

The story of her art began with an invitation to paint a mural for a church in Brazil. She chose a verse from the Bible - 'You've turned my wailing into dancing, You’ve taken away my clothes of sadness and clothed me with joy' – painted it on a wall in Portuguese and created patterns around it. It was all very instinctive, but the style and content of her work were essentially formed through that project. The Bible is key for her; she reads it regularly, describes it as her food, and meditates on its words of truth and encouragement. Her creativity begins with prayer, music, meditation, writing, and she then paints from that place.

She says that all her work ‘is really one whole body of work that leads on from one piece to another.’ It began with the book ‘Echoes of Eden’, which talks about the ‘idea of paradise’ and ‘how it pops up in a lot of cultures’. All of her work has flowed, therefore, from the idea of heaven; it’s about the future and our yearning and longing for paradise.

‘Ever After’, a mural in downtown Las Vegas created for the street art festival scene opening up there, has that eternity describing phrase in block letters and rainbow colours set on a future-oriented tyre track vector graphic surrounded by connecting curves of colour. ‘Imagine Eternity’ is a work from the ‘I Remember Paradise’ exhibition at the Papillion Gallery which followed the creation of murals in Miami and Las Vegas. ‘Imagine Eternity’ floats the dream of Paradise over a kaleidoscope which is surrounded again by colour curves topped and tailed with a graphic of a long and winding road. The kaleidoscope draws the eye to a central eternal entry point.

She sees God in the colours of heaven – ‘fluorescent pink and gold and glitter and all of those neon textures’ – making her work a very contemporary expression of worship and thanks and praise. She quotes Calvin Seerveld who said it’s important to ‘fire your art until it emits sparks that warm, or burn, those it reaches.’ The challenge and comfort of her work is in its positivity with rainbow colours of hope and the energy of its patterns and textures.

Lakwena says she sees her work and responsibility as an artist in the terms articulated by Seerveld. As such, the future orientation of her work is a lot deeper than just positivity; just saying things are good or are going to get better. Ultimately, this is work that is rooted both in an Afro-futuristic aesthetic and a Messianic ideology, the idea that there is a Saviour and a kingdom yet to come. As a result, there is a future that’s bigger than the past, the vision of which enables us to live God’s future now.

So, we remind ourselves that in heaven there will be nothing to fix, nothing to solve, and therefore no work to be done. In heaven there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things will have passed away. In heaven there will be nothing we can do for others, because God will have done everything for us. So, what will there be to do? Heaven is all about our relationships; being with God, with ourselves, with others, and with creation. Heaven is all about receiving from those relationships and enjoying those relationships to the full for what they are.

In Philippians 3 we are told to imitate those who set their minds on heavenly things because our citizenship is in heaven. Citizenship is all about belonging to a particular community together with all the other members of that community. In relation to heaven, it is about being in relationship with God’s people. So, if heaven is about anything at all, it is about enjoying, exploring and receiving through relationships.

Jesus wants us to prepare for heaven. The writer to the Philippians wants us to set our minds on our citizenship in heaven. They call us to live God’s future now, to anticipate what heaven will be like in the here and now, in the present. We do that by prioritising relationships – prioritising our being with God, being with ourselves, being with others and being with creation now. We prioritise relationship by being with, by entering a space in which we can receive what others are.

Contemplative prayer based on the art of looking and seeing puts us in that place where we can receive and enjoy God in a state of not having, not seeing, not knowing, not grasping; God given to us for God’s sake alone, the fullness of God’s being, the abundance of life, the secret of the world’s power of meaning.

Simone Weil wrote that in order ‘to receive in its naked truth’ the object which is to penetrate our mind, ‘our thought should be empty, waiting, not seeking anything’ and that such ‘absolute unmixed attention is prayer.’[vii] When we are in that state, seeing is receiving and to see is this way ‘is poetry, prophecy, and religion – all in one.’[viii]

Look, look, see. Look, look, see.
Be still, still, see. Look long,
look longingly, look lovingly, look deep.
Look slow, look silently, attending.
Stay, sustained, steady, steadfast.
Look, look, see. Surrender. Share.
Prayer. Poetry. Art. Life. Reveal.
Revelation. Sight. Insight. See.


Click here for the other parts of 'Seeing is Receiving'. See also 'And a little child shall lead them' which explores similar themes.


[i] R. Williams, Silence and Honey Cakes: The Wisdom of the Desert, Lion Books, 2004, p.42

[ii] ‘The Nature of the City: Visions of the Kingdom and its Saints in Charles Williams All Hallows' Eve’, A.S. Anderson, in Mythlore, Vol. 15, No. 3 (57) (Spring 1989), p.19

[iii] R. Williams, Silence and Honey Cakes: The Wisdom of the Desert, Lion Books, 2004

[iv] https://sayingsoftheorthodoxfathers.com/2017/09/12/our-life-and-death-is-with-our-neighbour-abba-anthony-the-great/ 

[v] R. Williams, Silence and Honey Cakes: The Wisdom of the Desert, Lion Books, 2004

[vi] R. Williams, Silence and Honey Cakes: The Wisdom of the Desert, Lion Books, 2004

[vii] S. Weil, Gravity and Grace, Routledge, 2004, p. 117

[viii] J. Ruskin, Modern Painters, III, pt. 4, ch. 16 (Knopf, 1794)


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

Hildegard von Bingen - Canticles Of Ecstasy.

Friday, 12 February 2021

Seeing is Receiving: The art of contemplation (8)

7. Sparking

A tale of two churches is central to the story that I sought to tell through my sabbatical art pilgrimage. The two churches are Notre-Dame des Alpes in Le Fayet and Notre-Dame de Toute Grâce on the Plateau d'Assy. Both are only kilometres apart in the French Alps and were built by same architect in a similar style yet they represent different stages in the sparking of inspiration from the Holy Spirit that led to the twentieth century’s revival of sacred art.

My sabbatical art pilgrimage involved visits to significant sites connected with the renewal of religious art in Europe during the twentieth century. In Europe I visited sites connected with the artists surrounding Maurice Denis, Jacques Maritain, Albert Gleizes and Marie-Alain Couturier, while, in the UK, I primarily visited sites which highlighted the influence of the innovatory commissions undertaken by George Bell and Walter Hussey. These were they that were primarily responsible for the sparking of inspiration in church commissions in this period of time.

At the beginning of the twentieth century modern art looked, sounded and felt very different from the art that had traditionally been made for the Church. This meant that the Church tended to avoid using modern art while many modern artists were excitedly exploring new ways of creating art and often couldn’t see any connection between what they were doing and the styles of art which the Church continued to use.

As a result, a whole segment of society – artists and art lovers – was not being impacted by Christianity. Denis, Maritain, Gleizes, Couturier, Bell and Hussey made it their life’s work to reconnect the Church with modern art. The key debate that they had, through their actions and writings, was whether the sparking of inspiration was best done by artists who were Christians and who primarily focused their work on church decoration or by artists who were reckoned to be contemporary masters, regardless of whether or not they practised the faith.

It was that debate which was played out through the commissions for the churches at Le Fayet and Assy. The decoration of St. Paul Grange-Canal in Geneva by Denis, Alexandre Cingria and others in 1913 – 1915 served as a manifesto for the renaissance in modern sacred art that they and others facilitated. This led to the founding in 1919 of the Ateliers d’Art Sacré in Paris by Denis and Georges Desvallières as well the Group of St Luke and St Maurice in Switzerland by François Baud, Cingria, Marcel Feuillat, Marcel Poncet and Georges de Traz. Both groups produced significant work for many churches in subsequent years.

In 1935 the Group of St Luke secured the decoration of the new church of Notre-Dame-des-Alpes by means of a tender process assessed by Maritain, the Catholic art critic Maurice Brillant and the director of the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Geneva, Adrien Bovy.[i] The process and the resulting work was a showcase for the renaissance of sacred art in which Denis, Maritain and Cingria had played key roles. It was this stage of the revival that was later challenged by the commissions selected for Notre-Dame-de-Toute-Grâce.

Although he trained at the Ateliers d’Art Sacré and worked on schemes of stained glass with its artists, together with his fellow Dominican Friar Pie-Raymond Régamey, Couturier argued in ‘L’Art sacré’, the journal which they jointly edited, that ‘each generation must appeal to the masters of living art, and today those masters come first from secular art.’[ii] Couturier worked with the parish priest at Assy, Canon Jean Devémy, on commissions for the church at Assy.

Initially their commissions were within the earlier phase of the renaissance of sacred art as sparked by the Holy Spirit. On the basis of his work at Le Fayet, Devémy selected Maurice Novarina as architect for Assy. As at Le Fayet, Novarina used his regional style with a chalet-style pitched roof and locally sourced materials. Initial commissions for the nave windows went to artists who had been active in modernist Church decoration before the war but Couturier then moved on to commission Pierre Bonnard, Marc Chagall, Fernand Léger, Jacques Lipchitz, Jean Lurçat, Henri Matisse, Germaine Richier and Georges Rouault.

William S. Rubin noted that this ‘radical aspect’ of Couturier’s plan proved deeply controversial as commissioning modern ‘masters … from secular art’ meant that ‘Side by side with works of the pious Catholic Rouault one saw those of Jews, atheists, and even Communists - a revolutionary situation that struck the keynote of a new evangelical spirit ...’ As a result, ‘Even before its dedication in 1950, the church had become the center of an increasingly bitter dispute which was to cause a marked rupture between the liberal and conservative wings of the clergy and laity during the following years.’[iii]

Despite the controversy caused Couturier’s approach to commissioning sparking inspiration for others and has become part of the commissioning landscape for churches. In England, Bishop Bell sought ‘ways and means for a reconciliation of the Artist and the Church’ while Hussey made it the great enthusiasm of his life and work ‘to commission for the Church the very best artists.’ Both experienced opposition and criticism but at St Matthew’s Northampton, St Michael and All Angels Berwick and Chichester Cathedral enabled commissions by a range of contemporary masters.

My visits to these and other churches confirmed for me the continuing value of commissions made at both stages of the twentieth century renaissance in sacred art. Both churches, Le Fayet and Assy, contain artworks which speak powerfully and movingly of the Christian faith and therefore also inform the spirituality of those who see them. Significant work was done throughout the twentieth century both by artists who were Christians and who primarily focused their work on church decoration and also by artists who were reckoned to be contemporary masters, regardless of whether or not they practised the faith. This continues to be the case in contemporary church commissions and, as a result, one of the lessons we can learn from the twentieth century revival of sacred art and its sparking of inspiration is that debate which sets ‘Christian’ artists against secular masters is unnecessary.

Churches need encouragement and validation to commission challenging and innovative work from either group of artists because the sparking of inspiration by the Holy Spirit derives not from our alignment with statements of belief but from the sharing of our contemplative seeing. As we have been reflecting through this book, this is based on slowing down in order to sustain silent looking by immersing ourselves in the world created by the work combined with reflection on sources. It is this that enables a positive cycle of creativity by sparking inspiration from the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ disciples spent three years not understanding what he was saying and doing before running away, deserting and denying him at the crucifixion. Then the Day of Pentecost happened and the coming of the Holy Spirit was the moment when it all came together for them, when they finally understood and both knew their part in God’s plan and could begin to play it.

When the Spirit came they could speak in languages they had never learned and were understood, they could explain the scriptures although they were uneducated and their explanations made sense. They could proclaim Jesus as Lord and Christ and people responded to their challenge, and they knew how to structure and organise the new community that grew around them in response to their message. All that Jesus had said to them and done with them suddenly made sense and was useful to them because the Spirit had come and brought clarity and revelation. That is what Jesus had promised them would happen. That is the work which the Holy Spirit comes to do in our lives. Jesus told the disciples that when the Spirit came he would lead them into all truth. In other words, they would have that experience of inspiration being sparked; of revelation, of clarity, of things making sense, coming together and connecting.

This is an experience that is common to artists. Written In My Soul is a series of interviews with some of the most well-known singer-songwriters from the 1950s onward. Many of these great artists – Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Van Morrison and others - felt that their songs were given to them in moments of revelation, that their songs were already written and ‘came through them as though radio receivers – without much conscious effort or direction.’[iv]

That is an experience of the Spirit coming, although often not recognised as such. It has also been my experience, both in creating and preaching. I will often reflect or meditate on an experience, a song, an image, a Bible passage, by putting it in my mind, carrying it around in my mind over several days or weeks, reminding myself of it from time to time and just generally living with it for a period of time. When I do so, then I find that, at some unexpected moment, a new thought or idea or image will come to me that makes sense or takes forward the experience or song or image or passage on which I had been reflecting.

This is not just something for artists or even for preachers, it is something that can happen for us all; not just in major life-changing moments of revelation but also in a series of minor everyday epiphanies. Corita Kent writes that there is ‘an energy in the creative process that belongs in the league of those energies which can uplift, unify, and harmonize all of us.’ This energy or spark or inspiration, ‘which we call “making,” is the relating of parts to make a new whole.’[v]

If done well, this sparking of creativity gives rise to a sparking of response: ‘… the work of art gives us an experience of wholeness called ecstasy – a moment of rising above our feelings of separateness, competition, divisiveness “to a state of exalted delight in which normal understanding is felt to be surpassed” (Webster’s).’ This is as we should expect, as the ‘very word imagination implies that you are into territory no one has ever been to before.’ As a result, ‘a rigid discipline that demands one “right” way is confining and limiting.’[vi]

There is a third spark that precedes those describes thus far. Kent says that new ideas ‘are bursting all around and all this comes into you and is changed by you.’[vii] We are all each other’s sources and anything that comes our way, including the work of artists, ‘is a place for starting’.[viii] Contemplative prayer or reflection enables us to see and grasp these inspirations as they burst around us. Sparks of inspiration and creativity come to us in this way because, as Anaïs Nin notes, there are ‘very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination.’ Instead, we ‘acquire it fragment by fragment on a small scale, successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.’[ix]g

The acquiring of fragments and creative linking of these to form a mosaic as commended by Kent and Jan Steward via Nin may remind us of Betty Spackman’s approach with ‘A Creature Chronicle’. Another artist inspired to create in this way, as a means of mirroring or depicting the contemplative creative process itself, was Marc Chagall. Chagall’s art is one that connects and reconciles disparate images of Bible, experience, history, memory and myth on the canvas through colour and composition. In his work Chagall links up different, unusual and unlikely images in a way that makes visual and emotional sense; in a way that communicates his love of his home, his world, his people, its sights, sounds and smells. He succeeds in ‘achieving a pictorial unity through the yoking of motifs taken from different realms of given reality.’[x] He reconciles emotions, thoughts, and reminiscences with lines, colours and shapes to create harmonious, meaningful paintings. Walther and Metzger have suggested that ‘no other twentieth century artist had Chagall's gift for harmonising what were thought to be irreconcilable opposites.’[xi] That was actually far from being the case, yet the fact that this might seem so is to recognise the lack of awareness and understanding shown to the art of contemplation in modern and contemporary art by critics and the Church alike. This has been to the wider detriment of society and has meant that some artists using the approaches described in this book have been under-appreciated in regard to recognition and, in other respects, as to intent.

The approaches to creative and Spirit-inspired sparking of these artists have synergies with the approaches of David Jones in The Anathemata and T. S. Eliot in The Waste Land. What these poets did in constructing a whole from fragmentary materials is also essentially similar to the form and construction of the Bible itself. Writer and minister, Mike Riddell has described the Bible as 'a collection of bits' assembled to form God’s home page while the Anglican priest Mark Oakley used a more poetic image when he wrote that the Bible is 'the best example of a collage of God that we have.' Riddell continued by saying that, 'what holds all these bits together is the fact that they somehow represent the continued involvement of God with the world in general and humanity in particular.'[xii] Oakley suggested that 'held together, they form a colourful and intriguing picture that draws us into its own landscape' and enables Christians to 'glimpse something of the divine being and his life in the world' and find 'a vocabulary for the Christian life.'[xiii]

What also holds them together is the Spirit-inspired sparking of creativity in creating and linking fragments of meaning that we have been exploring through the work of Chagall, Eliot, Jones, Kent and Spackman. It may be that it is this form of inspiration to which the Bible itself wants to point us when, in 2 Timothy 3.16, we read that ‘All scripture is inspired by God.’ Sparks of the Spirit – the inspiration of God – come not in one fully realised and systematised creation but fragment by fragment, to be creatively linked and held together in a collage of revelation.

This place of renewed inspiration, creativity and revelation is reached by means of learning to see as opposed to merely looking. The ways of learning to see that we have explored enable us to genuinely pay attention by slowing down, sustained looking, surrendering ourselves to art by immersing ourselves within it, staying with the silence inherent in much art, study of sources, the sharing of experiences, and an openness to inspiration, the sparking of the Spirit. In learning to use these ways of paying attention we are opening the gift the artist offers of sharing with us the mindful and prayerful act of seeing; to spend time noticing, looking intently and making careful observation in order to make material from their thoughts and ideas. With these ways of seeing in place, we can now see that there is beauty in all art and life as seen through the concept of sacrament, of heaven in the ordinary, including the artefacts of art. It is this that we contemplate. It is this to which we pay attention. It is this that is prayer.

Explore

Chagall's unitive vision finds echoes in the work of some of his peers and has been taken up, responded to and developed by other later artists.

Cecil Collins, in painting fools and angels found a means of depicting divine and human action and response. Collins viewed art as ‘an interpenetration between worlds, as a marriage of the known with the unknown’. In art, he said, the ‘imagination searches out and prefigures the mysterious unity of all life’. As a result of this metaphysical purpose and exploration ‘a picture lives on many different levels at once, it is an interpenetration of planes of reality, it cannot be analyzed or anatomised into single levels because one level can only be understood in the light of others. The reality or interior life of the picture can only be realised as a total experience.’[xiv] That total experience in Collins' work is unitive experience; whether this is the attempt at reconstituting the world that is Images in Praise of Love or the complex combination of symbol and structure that hymns the marriage union and reconciles masculine and feminine qualities in The Artist and His Wife.

Collins was also preoccupied by our expulsion from the Garden of Eden and our longing to return; in itself a reconciliation. This is a theme that was also taken up by Norman Adams. Adams' produced a questioning, probing work based on the expulsion and inspired by Paul Gauguin's Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going? An everyman figure is on a sloping pathway which he could be ascending or descending. Above him is a mass of blooming flowers, below a confused, muddy zone of swirls and scraping. His predicament poses the question to us as viewer, are we returning to Eden reconciled to God or descending into confused self-interest? The religious subject matter of Norman Adams' paintings provides him with geometry, a structure of lines and circles that allows his complex colours, his masterly and distinctive use of watercolour, to work their magic.’[xv] For Sister Wendy Beckett this ability of Adams' suggests that a mystical sense of oneness is making itself visible in his work.[xvi]

John Reilly was as strong and explicit as Collins in setting out his intentions: ‘My paintings are not concerned with the surface appearance of people or things but try to express something of the fundamental spiritual reality behind this surface appearance. I try to express in visible form the oneness and unity of this invisible power, binding all things into one whole.’[xvii] Using lessons learnt from Orphism and Rayonism he constructed a pattern of rippling rays emanating from a central source of light. Within this structure he set objects and figures composed of abstract shapes and colours that are indicative of their spiritual qualities. A painting like No Parting includes natural formations, animals, human figures and plants held together, underpinned, in eternal circulation by the central point, which some may see as a pictorial device structuring a work of beauty and others as symbolic of God. In Universal Power - The Fourth Day of Creation we are shown a snapshot of creation, of the first reconciliation of shape and form. As Reilly's abstract shapes spiral out from the central point they coalesce into those same fundamental, elemental shapes of bird, plant and human life.

For David Jones reconciliation comes through the tangle of associations and allusions triggered by words and images. Caroline Collier has noted his ‘fondness for entwinings, for complications, interrelationships, layers and correspondences.’[xviii] We see this most clearly in his use of line but, as Nicolette Gray notes in her comments on Curtained Outlook, the level of unity achieved throughout his work is much greater than simply this alone:

‘The artist has woven a complex of components into a new unity. The verticals of the window-frame, the windows and balustrade of the house outside, and of the jug on the table, are counterbalanced by the horizontal of the sill and the balcony, and by the outward-moving diagonals of the table, the toothbrush and box lid, and the downward-moving lines of the house. Movement runs throughout the composition - there is not a single straight line, not a flat wash of colour. The sudden accents of colour/tone/drawing pick up the movement of the composition. The drawing itself is part soft pencil, part brush drawing in colour, here sketchy, there emphatic. All the elements are worked together: form and content have been reconciled, unity combined with movement.’[xix]

Giles Auty, in writing of Norman Adams, noted that he belongs ‘to a relatively small tradition of painters whose outlook is positive’: ‘An affirmative vision such as his is especially rare in the modern art of the West, artists preferring to shelter more frequently behind masks of disillusionment and cynicism. Indeed, such negative views of life have the additional bonus of being perennially in fashion, the large black-humoured painting sharing something of the timeless chic of the little black dress.’[xx] The tradition of affirmative, unitive, figurative art may be small yet it remains significant, if undervalued.

Wonderings

I wonder if you can recall a moment when something new was sparked in you.

I wonder if you can remember what led to that sparking and how it felt.

I wonder what you did with that new something.

Prayer

Creating God, for whom creation is your prayer, may I see creativity as noticing and naming, letting all things be by attending to them for your sake and to see your goodness; that all may be well and all manner of thing be well. Amen.

Spiritual exercise

Take the phrase ‘Through the veil’ and ruminate on it in your heart and mind. Create a list in whatever way you wish of all that this phrase brings to mind for you. Use your list to begin a creative project of whatever kind you wish entitled ‘Through the veil’.

Art actions

View John Reilly’s work at http://thejohnreillygallery.co.uk/index.htm.

Watch the documentary ‘Bill Viola: The Road to St Paul’s’ which follows the world’s most influential video artist Bill Viola and his wife and close collaborator Kira Perov over a twelve-year period as they undertake and complete the installation of their two permanent video works, Mary and Martyrs, in St. Paul’s Cathedral.
 

Click here for the other parts of 'Seeing is Receiving'. See also 'And a little child shall lead them' which explores similar themes.


[i] L. Mamedova, ‘L’église Notre-Dame des Alpes à Saint-Gervais-le Fayet : une collaboration entre un architecte savoyard et un artiste genevois’, Publié dans L. el-Wakil et P. Vaisse, Genève-Lyon-Paris. Relations artistiques, réseaux, influences, voyages, Genève, Georg, 2004 - http://www.okam-design.com/lada/files/Fayet-article.pdf

[ii] M-A Couturier, ‘What Assy Teaches Us’ in Sacred Art, University of Texas Press, 1989, p.52

[iii] W.S. Rubin, Modern Sacred Art and the Church of Assy, Columbia University Press, New York & London, 1961

[iv] B. Flanagan, Written In My Soul, Omnibus Press, 1990, p. xii

[v] C. Kent & J. Steward, Learning by Heart, Allworth Press, 2008, p.5

[vi] C. Kent & J. Steward, Learning by Heart, Allworth Press, 2008, pps.90-91

[vii] C. Kent & J. Steward, Learning by Heart, Allworth Press, 2008, p.50

[viii] C. Kent & J. Steward, Learning by Heart, Allworth Press, 2008, p.48

[ix] Cited in C. Kent & J. Steward, Learning by Heart, Allworth Press, 2008, p.94

[x] Ingo F. Walther and Rainer Metzger, Marc Chagall 1887 – 1985: Painting as Poetry, Taschen, 2000, p. 20

[xi] Ingo F. Walther and Rainer Metzger, Marc Chagall 1887 – 1985: Painting as Poetry, Taschen, 2000, p. 89

[xii] M. Riddell, God’s home page (Oxford: The Bible Reading Fellowship, 1998), pps.24 & 25

[xiii] M. Oakley, The Collage of God (London: Darton, Longman and Todd Ltd, 2001), p.21

[xiv] Writings and statements by the Artist, Cecil Collins A Retrospective Exhibition, Judith Collins, Tate Gallery, 1989

[xv] M. Walters in ‘Images of Christ’, Modern Painters VI/2

[xvi] Sister W. Beckett, ‘Norman Adams’ in Modern Painters IV/1

[xvii] J. Reilly, ‘Introduction’ in The Painted Word: Paintings by John Reilly, Cross Publishing, 2008

[xviii] Caroline Collier, ‘Under the Form of Paint ...’ in David Jones: Paintings. Drawings. Inscriptions. Prints., The South Bank Centre, 1989

[xix] N. Gray, The Paintings of David Jones, Lund Humphries Publishers Ltd, 1989

[xx] G. Auty, ‘An Affirmative View’ in Norman Adams, R.A., Christopher Hull Gallery, 1991


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

Bob Dylan - Every Grain Of Sand.

Friday, 5 February 2021

Seeing is Receiving: The art of contemplation (7)

6. Sharing

As both a parish priest and through commission4mission, the group of artists of which I was part for 11 years, I have seen the value of promoting and publicising the artworks which churches have commissioned. Through the creation of Art Trails locally and regionally, I have been involved in providing churches with a means of publicity which has led to events such as art competitions, exhibitions, festivals and talks, community art workshops, guided and sponsored walks, and Study Days. Each brought new contacts to the churches involved and built relationships between these churches and local artists/arts organisations.

The commissions I saw on my pilgrimage spoke powerfully and movingly of the Christian faith and therefore inform the spirituality of those who see them. It has been my contention that to tell more fully the story of the engagement which the Church has had with modern and contemporary art could have similar impact on a wider scale. To do so could also have the effect of providing emerging artists from within the Church and the faith with a greater range of role models and approaches for their own developing inspiration and practice.

During my sabbatical I visited churches which seemed to have little or no regard for the artworks they possessed and others which were actively utilizing them in their mission and ministry by sharing what they had been given. Église St Michel, Les Breseux, is a church that has really engaged with the artworks it has commissioned and the visitors who therefore come to see those commissions. This church is aware that it now receives visitors who would not otherwise come but for Alfred Manessier’s stained glass and, therefore, takes their needs into account with simple but essential facilities provided and a small exhibition about the commissions, Manessier, and arte sacré more generally. Many larger churches do not do as much and Les Breseux is both an exemplar and an example as to why and how to cater for, share with and minister to those who visit to view wonderful works of art.

Metz and Chichester Cathedrals both have simple but effective leaflets which identify a prayerful route around their spaces taking in the most significant commissions and offering a brief prayer in response to each. Such leaflets encourage all visitors not simply to be tourists but worshippers as well. I know from personal experience, having created a similar leaflet for St Margaret's Barking, how much such simple initiatives are appreciated by parishioners and visitors alike.

An argument can be made that such approaches, like the information provided on labels in museum exhibitions, can direct viewers to see the artwork from one perspective alone. However, this does not have to be the case, as viewers often take that perspective as a starting point for then seeing others themselves. Additionally, providing no way in to perspectives on artworks, as curators have often found, can leave viewers unable to begin to engage with the artwork at all.

Taking the meditative nature of his Julian of Norwich series of paintings further, Alan Oldfield created a film of the paintings with Sheila Upjohn reading selected extracts from Julian's shewings. Upjohn would later make a similar use of extracts from Julian in the booklet based on the Stations of the Cross by Irene Ogden which can be found at St Julian's Church in Norwich. Jane Quail's Stations of the Cross based on the Beatitudes were installed in the grounds of the Anglican Shrine at Walsingham in 2001 and are much loved by pilgrims. As with the Stations of the Cross by Ogden, a booklet with meditations based on the images and texts has been published. These are imaginative artworks which make creative textual and visual connections between the events of the 14 Stations and scriptures not normally associated with those events. They integrate scriptures, creating a harmonious whole and opening up the scriptures to other interpretations and connections.

Metz Cathedral, like many other Cathedrals and churches, also has an ongoing arts programme centred on music and the visual arts. Similarly, and, as part of understanding that its commissions, had created for it a new and wider ministry, Tudeley Parish Church organizes an annual music festival. The Tudeley Festival, which specializes in period performance, was established in 1985 and the church also hosts concerts by visiting musicians and choirs at other points throughout the year. Tudeley also has an excellent website with significant information about its commissions and other initiatives. The range and quality of information on their website remains relatively rare, even among those churches and cathedrals which do feature their artworks, but another which provides a marvellous example of what can be done online is Berwick Parish Church in Sussex under the heading of ‘Bloomsbury at Berwick’.

As a result of its memorial commissions St Andrew Bobola in Shepherds Bush is a significant space for memory and memorial for those remembering Poles who died during World War II, but also, more generally, for the Polish community in the UK as a whole. The Sandham Memorial Chapel at Burghclere with its murals by Stanley Spencer was specifically created as a memorial space. St Andrew Bobola and Berwick Parish Church, by contrast, incorporate a memorial function into their wider ministry by means of their commissions.

Adam Kossowski’s murals at St Benet's Chapel in East London have proved to be an excellent talking point in the Revd Jenny Petersen's ministry to students of other faiths, with Muslims in particular understanding the themes of judgement found therein, leading to a willingness to use the space for prayer. She has encouraged contemplation of the mural's themes by producing a series of cards exploring the imagery of each panel together with the relevant sections from the Revelation of St John.

At St Alban Romford their commissions have also given the parish a 'beyond-the-parish ministry' in that other parishes considering commissions are regularly recommended to visit St Alban's in order to see what has been achieved, be inspired, gain ideas and be put in touch with artists. Visits also come as a result of the parish participating in borough-based Open House and Art Trail events as well as school visits. As Chairman of Governors and Link-Governor for Art and Design at The Frances Bardsley School for Girls, Fr Roderick Hingley has played a significant role in the development of the School as a centre of excellence for the Arts including the Brentwood Road Gallery and commissions at the School by Patrick Reytiens and Mark Cazalet. This engagement, which has led to the School joining the Chelmsford Diocesan Board of Education Affiliated Schools Scheme, enables the School, Parish and Diocese to ‘support each other in the spirit of Christian fellowship and service’ finding ‘innovative ways of working together and learning from one another.’[i] One outcome was the inclusion of artworks by students which featured in the church as part of its Fan the Flame mission week.

In 2009 St Alban's hosted the launch of commission4mission which sought to encourage churches to commission contemporary art as a mission opportunity. St Alban's exemplifies all that commission4mission suggested that local church engagement with the Arts could and should provide:
  • sharing works of art which speak eloquently of the Christian faith;
  • shared reason to visit a church – something that was tapped with their Art Trail for the Barking Episcopal Area;
  • shared links between churches and local arts organisations/ initiatives; and
  • a focus for people to come together for a shared activity.
While seeing clearly - by slowing down for sustained, silent and immersive looking combined with reflection on sources - brings insights for our own growth and creativity, we will not be truly creative if we keep such insights to ourselves without the wider sharing with others that characterises the examples above.

Artist-priest Alan Stewart believes that sharing, as in interpretation of and responses to a work of art, is an important element of the work’s reception and life:

‘An artist will of course set out to say something particular, but once their work becomes public it assumes its own life. Therefore each fresh encounter will produce a new conversation between the art and the viewer, resulting in a whole host of possible interpretations, none less valid than the other. Appropriating our own personal meaning from another person’s work doesn’t diminish it, if anything it enlarges it. We might even want to say that in re-imagining and re-investing something with new meaning, we may, in fact, in some cases redeem it or re-birth it.’[ii]

Sister Wendy Beckett was an informed enthusiast who applied the instruction in Philippians 4:8, to fill your minds with those things that are good and that deserve praise, to the writing and presenting that she shared with us. The kind of poring and praying over images that characterised Beckett's best writing can be a distinctively Christian contribution to the plurality of art criticism. This can be cultivated through a framework that encourages a sustained contemplation of the artwork and which notes our personal responses to each facet of the work as well as their cumulative impact. Beckett cultivated a prayerful attentiveness to the artwork through sustained contemplation in order to see or sense what is good and of God in it, regardless as to whether the artist who made it had an international, national, regional or local reputation.

Her instinctive approach to art criticism was that of a charitable hermeneutic. Jonathan A. Anderson has explained that the ‘idea of a charitable hermeneutic begins from the premise that reading and interpreting others’ works is a form of human relationship—a means of negotiating our sense of meaning in life with our neighbours, our fellow humans, including both the artists who made the works and those with whom we discuss them.’ So, he asks, ‘is there a way in which the writing of art criticism and the writing of history might function as love of neighbour?’

At the most basic level, he suggests, ‘a charitable hermeneutic demands that as I strive to make sense of any given work, I must … attend carefully to this particular work she has made, to receive it on its own terms (or at least in terms that are appropriate to it), and to try to name the ways that important human concerns, longings, joys, laments, failures, and so on are active in the work and have some bearing on me today.’[iii]

This was essentially the approach that Beckett applied to her writing. It is an approach that accords with the Biblical mandate given by God to humanity as outlined in the creation stories at the beginning of Genesis. This is to name (interpret and share) the essence of God’s good creation. This is to notice and then name the essence of God’s good creation. Imagination works by noticing and naming. We can all pay attention, so that we notice, and can all describe and define, so that we name. In other words we can all be artists and poets, whether as those who make or as those who pray.

The creation stories in the Book of Genesis are where we see the imagination of God most clearly at play, and by doing so see the way in which a movement between seeing, speaking and silence enables our noticing and naming.

The Book of Genesis and the Bible as a whole begins in silence. Speech first happens in verse 3 when God says, ‘Let there be light.’ In the beginning there was silence and in the silence God saw that the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. Before creation began God was there in silence and stillness, the Spirit hovering over and seeing a realm of possibility yet to be realised, a realm of possibilities waiting to bodied forth, shaped and named by imagination.

Silence enables sight because sight precedes speech. The child looks and recognises before it can speak and so it is here, in this description of the time before time. Therefore, we need to regularly return to silence in order to see afresh, as we will also see God doing in this story.

Then God speaks imaginatively, embodying possibilities, shaping and naming possibilities as realised and actualised entities – let there be light, let there be sky, let there be land, let there be seas, let there be vegetation, let there be creatures, let there be human beings, let there be … After the speaking, the shaping, the defining, the naming, after all those things there is rest; the return to silence and stillness in order to see. God saw all that had been made, and indeed, it was very good and God rested on the seventh day from all the work that had been done.

In the time of God’s sabbath rest, we are invited to become sub-creators – co-creators - with God to continue this pattern or process of contemplative creation. The Lord God brought every animal of the field and every bird of the air to humans to see what we would name them; and whatever we called every living creature, that was its name. We gave names to all cattle, and to the birds of the air, and to every animal of the field.

God was no longer creating by bodying forth, shaping and naming, but, as he rested, wished to see how his creativity was shared and replicated within his creation. We were asked to co-create by naming all other creatures. Names in ancient times described the essence of the creature or object so named. That is what we did in this story. We looked for the essence of each creature and then named that essence. Naming is a key human speech-act. Describing and defining is a tool for navigating existence and is the basis of scientific discovery, and it all begins with seeing. In order to accurately describe or define or map, we have first to see what is there. That is the sequence within this story. God brought animals to us. We looked at each one and then described or defined each by naming them.

We come to know the essence of a thing by imaginatively exploring its various possibilities. This process of paying attention to an object and using our imagination to explore its possibilities in order to realise its distinctive essence is what the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins called instress. He called the essence that we identify the inscape. Ultimately, ‘the instress of inscape leads one to Christ, for the individual identity of any object is the stamp of divine creation on it.’ [iv]

When we do what Adam did – when we notice and name – we are being creative, we are artists and poets; we are fulfilling the potential God created in us when he made human beings in his image as creative beings. When we notice and name we are seeing sacramentally because we are seeing the divine essence in all things.

This is the purpose for which we were created and for which the creation itself is crying out. James Thwaites has suggested that this is what Paul, in Romans 8, suggests creation is crying out for from us as human beings (Romans 8: 19-22): ‘It must be crying out for its goodness to be fully realised and fully released. The creation cannot be good apart from the sons and daughters because we alone were given the right to name it; we are the image bearers who were made to speak moral value and divine intent into it. We were created to draw forth the attributes, nature and power of God in all things.’[v]

Instead of the selfish and wasteful exploitation of creation’s resources – the domination and abuse – which characterises human engagement with the world, we are intended to creatively realise the inherent possibilities, the essential goodness, of creation through our imaginative ability as those who notice and name. As God did when resting on the seventh day, it is as we return to silence in order to contemplate that we see more clearly and can notice and name once again.

Our task remains that of cultivating creation (to make it fruitful) and caring for it (to maintain and sustain it), just as God told Adam to work the ground and keep it in order. This cultivation of creation is a creative activity based on understanding the essence of each thing that we cultivate. Like Sister Wendy Beckett in her art criticism, we can explore the actual by looking for the good in our world and by naming the good when see it. We are also able to look for new possibilities in our world and to name these possibilities as we see them. Because we live after the Fall, our task is one of attempting ‘to change the world in the direction of its promised transformation, imaginatively grasping and realising the objective possibilities in the present which conform most closely to the coming Kingdom.’[vi]

We are not made to do this alone but in collaboration. Our creativity in naming the good and the possible is co-creation together with God, with each other and with creation. We are to be in conversation with God (prayer), each other and our world. Paul Ballard has said that ‘human beings can enter into a creative partnership with [God] in terms of [our] own powers over creation’ and that the ‘power to work is a God-given power that finds its place in relation to the service of God and man’s place in creation.'[vii] However, much of our creativity as human beings has been with our back turned to God - we have been ‘out of conversation’ with him - and, therefore, instead of caring for creation we have exploited it for our own selfish ends. To turn away from this blindness about ourselves we need to see that work is also about our own self-understanding or comprehension.

As we prayerfully and reflectively name what is good and what is possible, we develop our understanding of ourselves. By naming the good and imagined possibilities for each creature that God brought to him, Adam gained the necessary self-understanding to recognise Eve as the helper for which he had been seeking. Creativity is about collaboration – a prayerful conversation with God, each other and our world - in order to better comprehend or understand ourselves and our world and thereby to see the creative possibilities for developing our world and culture in line with the essence of its goodness.

Such prayerful interpretation or naming, to have validity, has to fit with and follow the shape, texture, feel, colour, images, content, associations and emotions of the work or creature itself. Richard Davey has a marvellous phrase for the network of relationships which form around any artwork; ‘respect for the work of art as an object itself made by an embodied human being for embodied human beings’.[viii]

Peter Phillips believes that ‘the Church in the West faces continued decline until it reverses its rejection of artists who can frame and present their own embodied experience and draw their audience into an embodied understanding of the world in which they live or hope to live.’[ix] This is because ‘everything we experience has to be embodied ... every experience we have can only be perceived, received, experienced by a sentient, embodied individual.’ Art also needs to be experienced; ‘the produced data (visual, verbal, aural, oral, plastic, moving, multimedia, monomedia) is usually meant to be experienced through the locus of embodiment.’

‘This was a truth which the medieval European Church understood’ that, at its heart: ‘religion is better understood as embodied experience than by rational assent. Think of all the sense images in Christianity alone: blood, wine, bread, flesh, sacrifice, baptism, circumcision, eating, drinking, purification, washing, meals, healing, touch, kiss, embrace, bite, devour, the word of God made flesh.’ Therefore, he argues, art embodied, whether ‘live’ or digital, ‘in all its forms offers an iconographic entry point into a multisensory embodied experience of Christianity itself.’[x]

Naming essence, seeing possibilities, embodying experience and creating signs of the kingdom are all necessary elements of prayerfully finding and sharing connections. We are isolated individuals until we experience ourselves in community where, by prayerfully naming our essence and that of others, we see and share our and others distinctiveness, together with aspects of commonality and connection. Equally, whether we contribute reflective interpretations of an artwork we have viewed or take part in a relational happening or create a temporary sign of the kingdom of God, our sharing in this contemplative activity as embodied human beings enlarges, re-imagines or re-invests with new meaning the work or sign. Our sharing therefore enables a sparking of the Spirit.

Explore

As Peter Phillips noted, there are many resonances between what are essentially art 'happenings' which involve the viewer as participant (indeed, which move those who are other than the artist from viewer to participant), the art created by 'relational' artists, and what happens in church services (as we began to explore in Chapter 4). The Eucharist is a happening which is only completed by the congregation becoming participants and which only has meaning as this occurs. The Eucharist can only proceed if the president receives responses from the congregation to the Eucharistic Prayer and the point and culmination of the Eucharist is when the congregation take the body and blood of Christ into their own bodies. A theological analysis of relationships at this point should conclude that the body of Christ has been both dispersed and gathered among and by the receiving church community.

There are interesting parallels to significant works of relational art, such as Rirkrit Tiravanija's shared meal installation. In 1992 Tiravanija created a landmark Relational Art exhibition entitled Untitled (Free) at 303 Gallery in New York, by converting the gallery into a kitchen where he served rice and Thai curry for free. This deceptively simple conceptual piece, invited visitors to interact with contemporary art in a more sociable way, and blurred the distance between artist and viewer. No longer were you simply looking at art, but now were part of it—and were, in fact, making the art as you ate curry and talked with friends or new acquaintances.

As Christians we should similarly be seeking to create temporary signs of the kingdom of God which can be experienced by those in our community but are tasters for the fullness of the kingdom which is yet to come. This is how we pray embodiments of the kingdom into existence. The Eucharist is the central example of such signs which, as the artist-poet David Jones consistently stated, have to participate in the reality which is being signed in order to have validity and meaning. There are significant parallels here to Nicolas Bourriaud's idea of an endless succession of actions (or 'space-time elements') in which a temporary collective is formed, by means of which fairer social relations are permitted together with more compact ways of living and many different combinations of fertile experience.[xi]

Corita Kent has broadened these ideas to cover our daily lives because of her belief that we are all artists.[xii] To create, Kent notes, means to relate: ‘The root meaning of the word art is to fit together and we all do this every day. Not all of us are painters but we are all artists. Each time we fit things together we are creating – whether it is to make a loaf of bread, a child, a day.’

Wondering

I wonder what you have noticed in the course of today.

I wonder what you named for yourself or others in the course of today.

I wonder how you express your creativity.

Prayer

Partnering God, I thank you for the trust you place in me by inviting me to co-create with you. I thank you for the gifts and creativity you see in me and ask that together I might know how to express my creativity in the opportunities you provide each day to notice and name the goodness in creation. Amen.

Spiritual exercise

Plan a walk during which you will concentrate on noticing the people, places, creatures, flora, fauna and other objects that you encounter. Ideally, you would record these in some way as you walk e.g. list, draw, photograph, memorize etc. Then, when home, seek to name them by describing what you saw of their essence. Again, feel free to do this naming using a format or medium that works for you.

Art actions

Read Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem ‘As Kingfisher’s Catch Fire’ and ‘Burnt Norton’ from T.S. Eliot’s ‘Four Quartets’.

Read my Church of the Month reports on the ArtWay website at https://www.artway.eu/content.php?id=21&lang=en. These all come from the Sabbatical Art Pilgrimage.


Click here for the other parts of 'Seeing is Receiving'. See also 'And a little child shall lead them' which explores similar themes.


[i] https://www.artway.eu/content.php?id=1927&lang=en&action=show

[ii] A. Stewart, Icons and Eyesores: Pickled Sharks and Unmade Beds, NTMTC lecture, 2003

[iii] J. Evens, ‘Jonathan Anderson: Religious Inspirations Behind Modernism’, Artlyst, 30 March 2018 - https://www.artlyst.com/features/jonathan-anderson-complex-religious-inspirations-behind-modernism-interview-revd-jonathan-evens/

[iv] Stephen Greenblatt et al., Ed. "Gerard Manley Hopkins." The Norton Anthology of English Literature. 8th ed. Vol. 2. New York, London: W. W. Norton & Company, 2006. pg. 2159

[v] J. Thwaites, The Church Beyond The Congregation: the strategic role of the church in the postmodern era, Carlisle: Paternoster Press, 2001, p.222

[vi] R. Bauckham, Moltmann: Messianic Theology in the Making, Basingstoke: Marshall, Morgan and Scott, 1987, p.40

[vii] Industrial Committee of the Council of Churches for Wales booklet, 1982 cited in C. Schumacher, God in Work, Oxford: Lion, 1998, pp.59 – 61

[viii] Personal correspondence with Revd Davey - https://joninbetween.blogspot.com/2009/05/responses-to-airbrushed-from-art_24.html

[ix] P. Phillips. ‘Embodying Art: Renewing Religion?’, Transpositions, 2012 – http://www.transpositions.co.uk/11225/

[x] P. Phillips. ‘Embodying Art: Renewing Religion?’, Transpositions, 2012 – http://www.transpositions.co.uk/11225/

[xi] N. Bourriaud, Relational Aesthetics, Les presses du réel, 2002, p.41

[xii] C. Kent & J. Steward, Learning by Heart, Allworth Press, 2008, pps.4-5

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

Bruce Cockburn - Creation Dream.