I spoke to Bill earlier today outside of church on this subject and he mentioned that I should post on it. Usually when Bill says to post on something (out of an email or personal conversation), I decide to ponder the subject a bit more to gain a better understanding of what I might write as not to completely embarass myself to the world. Invariably, this waiting results in not posting anything at all as the subject is rendered either irrelevant or suppressed by mountains of work. Not today, my friends.
If what I post below offends, confuses, or bothers you, please forgive me as I am still fleshing out some sort of meaning from these thoughts.
Art is beautiful. We were created by a Creator to be creative and create. Why? Do we love music, making movies, writing, painting, sculpting, singing, etc. simply because we are made in God's image and He loves to do the same? It has to be more than, "God made me to love singing so I could reach those unbelievers who also love to sing." Right? Or is the purpose of art simply just that, a means of commonality that can bridge lives and relationships?
I like to think that God created art to make it easier to worship Him. I can (and desire to) write, sing, dance, doodle, etc. It's often easier to tell God I love Him through singing than simply saying it. When I sing, I feel that I am offering who I am back to the "I AM" who made me who I am. In others' eyes, however, this can be dangerous.
I was talking to my friend, Jenny, a few months ago. Jenny is one of these intellectual, artsy types who is quite gifted at expressing herself. She writes songs, poetry and is interested in anything slightly artistic. As we were talking about photography, one of her loves, we got onto the subject of how other people view her work. At times, she mentioned, people would look at her art (in this case, photos), analyze them and say what they felt she was attempting to portray/demonstrate/say through her efforts. A lot of the time, they would get it wrong.
Jenny chooses to express her love to God through photography. Her friends, knowing this goal, would read different meaning into her art than she originally had intended when creating. It got to the point where she told me she was hesitant to publicly show her work as people would view the art and assign meaning into it that may never have been there. This subjectivity, possibly, could be counter to God's desire, character or will for us as humans.
[This reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where Kramer has his portrait painted for an artist. This old couple comes in and looks at the artwork in the artists' gallery. As they analyze the piece, they say all of these different characteristics that Kramer is emoting through the painting. "He is a loathsome, offensive brute, yet I cannot look away." Pretty funny.]
We are all creative to an extent - some of us more than others. When publicizing art to others, how should one balance one's intended worship expression within the art and letting it become the person taking in the art's own worship? When I hear beautiful music (for some of us this is U2, for others Beethoven), I worship and thank God for music. It is possible that why I am worshipping (or what I am worshipping) is different than what or why Bono was worshipping when he wrote the song.
When I read an incredibly artful passage or poem, I consider God's greatness relative to the mind who orchestrated such verse. Sometimes I "hear" God speak to me through the art and discern truth. Those who are not Christian do not know Truth - but they should not be hindered from hearing an awesome praise song or seeing a sculpture portraying sacrifice simply because they won't "get it." At the same time, we can't write an entire essay to stick next to every piece hanging in a Christian art gallery detailing what the artist did and did not mean while creating the art as to protect "truth" (as if He needs protecting, anyhow).
Thoughts?
- Charles Spurgeon
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I just recently started wrting in my own blog (inspired, a bit, I might add, by The Thinklings). Writing for my friends and family now (something I had done a little bit in my e-mails) has both energized and terrified me. I not been so much worried about them misinterpreting what I am trying to say, as I have been about them misinterpreting me. Many of my friends and family are seeing various aspects of my personality and thoughts that I have never shared before. Art, in any form, is sharing oneself--and that can be a bit scary at times.
I don't think it matters whether or not others experience or understand what the artist has in mind or not. Art should be presented to the Creator and let Him use it as He wills to effect the minds and hearts of others.
Tolkein said he did not write the LOTR trilogy as allegory. However, having said that, he went on to say that he did not mind at all if people found allegorical meanings or symbolism in what he wrote. He just wanted to make it clear that he didn't create the history of Middle Earth with any allegory in mind. So he created, presented it, and let others do with it as they will.
I hope to be like that someday. It is nervewracking to constanly be wondering if others hear what you are trying to say or worrying that they are reading things into what you say that aren't there. I pray that the Lord removes this self consciousness and teaches me to 'work as unto the Lord' and create as unto the Lord, as well.
Quaid, way cool.
Art is a profoundly human thing, and there are worse things in the world to be than human.
I would ask what you would see if a piece of art were to survive the end of all things, and make it into the new earth. Heinlein has a great couple of paragraphs on Rodin's Fallen Caryatid with Stone. He sees a girl who has despaired of herself without blaming anyone else. What would an unfallen person see in that? Would it look like a child's crayon drawing? Or maybe like a psychotic's self-destructive illusion?
I believe it would look just as poignant as ever.
The question is really what in us is human, and what in us is corrupted.
Unless I believe that our art is human, in a real sense, then art seems a collosal waste of time. It is human though, and it's beautiful. Doggone I feel like that fallen caryatid. Her fingers have pushed dents into that rock, but she still can't lift it back up.
How to capture that feeling, though, and sculpt the One Who has lifted the stone for me. That's a challenge. It would be something to see a sculpture of Christ raising her back to her feet with that stone on His shoulder, just as heavy as ever, and just as painful as ever, but Him willing to shoulder it. We see that the caryatid is humble enough to fail under her load, but is she humble enough to let another shoulder it? That is much harder. What would be the look on her face?
This sculpture, though, would tickle the boundaries of my inner puritan. It always take a moment for me to relax when I see what could possibly be interpreted as a graven image. I hush that silly purtian, though. To portray the feeling of redemption has to be right. And is there really a difference between portraying it in words and portraying it in oil or stone?
Alright. I think I've wandered far enough afield of your post. Loved reading your thoughts.
One of the things I hated most about High School English classes were the amateurish interpretations of novels. Discerning themes, motifs and other literary devices is one things, but asking ourselves "What is the author saying here?" often crossed the line for me.
I would, at times, outright refuse to participate in a discussion - at the cost of an easy 'A' - simply because the discussion seemed so farfetched or merely stupid. I did not care for five people repeating each other with different words (although repeating without repeating became an interesting art form in and of itself).
How am I supposed to know what the author meant in this passage? What if what you think the author was trying to say is wrong? What if you're very wrong? What if the literary criticisms (which sometimes contradicted each other) are wrong also? Who is right? Only the author will know.
This is an inherent danger in art.
Jared (or anyone, for that matter) - as you write, I am certain that the wordpictures you paint are not simple in nature. I would believe, by hearing about what you are currently writing, your current novel is somewhat to very complex. I would also believe, in seeing how talented you are, that dialogue presented in your novel(s) is meaningful, intricate and productive to the overall plot and story. Lastly, I would expect that the theme of God enters the realm of your story to at least a moderate extent.
After you become famous, are you not somewhat "concerned" at how some book club or high school class (gak) might read into your work?
Well, bummer. I was hoping someone had read the Heinlein bit on Rodin's caryatid sculpture.
Though I can understand the concern that someone would 'misinterpret' my work, I think I would enjoy seeing and hearing what others got out of it. One of the beauties and mysteries of life is the different ways we all see the same thing. One sees beauty, another sees ugly. I find those differences fascinating, surprising, enlightening and shows me more of the power of God that he could create such diversity.
I've been trudging through the Willem VanGemeren-edited A Guide to Old Testament Theology and Exegesis (which is really just a collection of the introductory articles in The New International Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis), and I...
A slight tangent, but does art have to be beautiful?
Can't it also point out ugliness and weep or rage?
Quaid, no arguments from me. Good thoughts, but it feels like you could explore them a bit more. Maybe in the thread here.
I do think that visual art especially tends to open up the field of "reader" response. It's hard for a photograph to "say" anything really, and that's inherent in the medium, not a fault of the artist. People will react differently to images just like they react differently to the things we see around us.
If anything, you could ask why a photographer wants to say something about the landscape (or whatever) s/he's photographed, since whatever the Creator is saying about and with that image is really the interpretative trump card, so to speak.
Anyways, good thoughts here, especially the general idea of creation as worship. That is the chief concern for me, even as the act of creation feels so much like work.
But work is supposed to be worship too, isn't it? ;-)