Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Using Symbolism in Art

Cutbird by Gaylen Stewart

An example of how Stewart has used his x-rays in artwork.
In the last section of his Language chapter of It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God, Stewart goes into depth about some of his own work. He reflects upon how his own x-rays are one of the symbols he has used in his art. During this time he was going through a period of introspection, specifically his healing from cancer. In his own words, Stewart says,

I would use the x-rays to convey my pain and healing and a discussion about the frailty of human existence in a spiritual context. 
Bury the Tender Word
by Gaylen Stewart

However, Stewart acknowledges that symbols change. What may have been an effective symbol at one time may not be now. As Stewart progresses with his work, he juxtaposes different symbols with one another to give them new meaning. For example, while an audience may see a butterfly and acknowledge it’s natural beauty, they will view it fresh light if a word is written next to it. Pushing the limits of what it means to take a symbol and use it in an unexpected way is part of what makes an artist’s work unique and intriguing. Creating associations with contrasting objects breathes new life and meaning into them. Stewart explains this, stating,
Understanding my work reminds me of how children learn to speak when they are very young. Children learn by repetition. They become familiar with repeated sounds and patterns which they eventually connect to meaning. In a similar way, seeing many works which encompass the artist’s visual language, one can begin to decipher individual elements. As people view the images and as they read the words, they begin to make associations between dissimilar objects, imbuing them with new meaning. This is what I find challenging and exciting about symbolic imagery - connecting people and facilitating the process of rediscovery. 
Confined by Kirsten Hallenbeck

I use the symbols of the human figure, birds, and
nature elements in my own work. 
As an artist myself, it is always fascinating to hear how certain symbols wiggle their way into art and take on new meaning. For Stewart, these are natural images, such as butterflies and insects combined with scientific imagery and patterns pointing to the complexity of creation. I think if we look closely, we can all see repeating symbols in our work. For me, this consists of nature objects and free, organic lines. Plants, birds, and the human figure can’t seem to stay out of my work! These have become my strongest symbols and I have taken it upon myself as an artist to continue finding creative new ways to present them. I must give them a voice with which to speak to my viewer. 

Romare Bearden was another artist who uses symbolism in his work. In the video below, he talks about which symbols jumped out to him, and how he used specific imagery together to convey meaning. 

How will you use symbols in your artwork?









The artwork of Romare Bearden, containing his symbol of the guitar.

Sources
It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God by Bustard
http://www.sfmoma.org/explore/multimedia/videos/205
http://www.moma.org/collection/details.php?theme_id=10205
http://www.steinershow.org/podcasts/history/the-life-and-work-of-artist-romare-bearden/

Monday, November 24, 2014

To be an artist of faith...

Photo by Danielle Peterson

Brother Andre Love still has many tattoos,
which he has not removed at the request
of the Mount Angel Abbey Abbot.
While touring the Mount Angel Abbey with guide Brother Andre Love, a Catholic monk, I began to question what it means to be an artist of faith. Love’s story paints a rich and dynamic canvas of this concept: with occupations ranging from military service, to tattoo artist, and now monk. In our discussion Love spoke about how he was prepared to give up art when he entered the Abbey. After all, he had begun tattooing out of necessity and realized he no longer belonged in that world. He joked about how he “talked more people out of getting tattoos then into them.” Love said that he could see when the chosen tattoo wasn’t a true expression of the person receiving it, and he would refuse the client. He was tired of being a brand; concerned with money and ego. Trapped in addiction and divorced three times, Love knew something needed to change. 
I had no clue what love was. I had no clue how to love or how to let people love me and that’s why I was miserable.
Several years of searching later, Love found Mount Angel Abbey. He was in search of truth, and if it meant giving up his art, Love was prepared. Imagine his surprise when the Abbot instructed him to work as an icon painter and curator. Now Love paints in 20 minute increments between his other responsibilities at the Abbey. He works only by commission, and is currently painting a Byzantine icon of St. Stephen. Love has studied iconography since arriving at the Abbey, and embraces the ancient method of using stylized figures combined with symbolic colors and posturing. For Love, using this style emphasizes that this art isn’t about him.
...there’s an element of anonymity. It’s not about the artist. 
Photo by Danielle Peterson

Love's studio at Mount Angel Abbey.
While reading Keller’s chapter on Why We Need Artists in It Was Good: Making Art for the Glory of God, I was reminded of our visit to Mount Angel Abbey. Keller discusses how he believes that the church needs artists because without art it is impossible to reach the world. This argument is based off of the idea that imagination “gets you,” in contradiction to reason. Keller goes on to compare art to music, stating,
You are committed to believing nothing means anything and yet the music comes in and takes you over with your imagination. When you listen to great music, you can’t believe life is meaningless. Your heart knows what your mind is denying. We need Christian artists because we are never going to reach the world without great Christian art to go with great Christian talk.
Hitler's Madonna and Child obviously does not make
him an artist of faith. Being an artist of faith
can not be defined by painting religious scenes. 
So then, does this mean Christian artists need to drop everything and become monks? Can our only subject matter be the Madonna and Child? On the contrary, painting iconography like Brother Love is only one course of action. What we can learn from Love and Keller is the spirit with which to create art. In commentary on prayer at the Abbey, Love states that “we’re not just praying for ourselves. We’re praying for the world. This prayer is constantly going on.” Anyone can paint a religious scene, but only someone who is truly in communion with God while creating can illicit a sense of meaning from a viewer. 
To me, it is important to remember that this can take any form. Being a Christian artist isn’t about painting religious scenes. Rather, it may be the more nuanced and seemingly “non-Christian” art which causes a viewer to think. I may not paint a portrait of the prodigal son or actively pray while I create, but instead quietly meditate within myself. A soft, quiet sense of knowing is all I need to understand that God is present and active in my art. The simple physical act of creating is my form of worship, and I believe this comes through in my work. To me, this is what it means to be an artist of faith. 

Golden Sea by Makoto Fujimura. 

Fujimura uses abstract art to express his faith.

Sources
It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God by Bustard
Rastrellie, Tom. "Tatto Artist Turned Monk: Not Your Typical Art Story." Statesmen Journal, 17 November 2014.
Fujimurainstitute.com

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

What Makes Art Beautiful?

In the second chapter of It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God, Chaplin offers an interesting discourse on beauty in art. He begins by commenting on how each individual experiences the world in their own unique way, and therefore, their interpretation of beauty will be exclusive. This is a strong argument not to be reasoned against. However, Chaplin goes on to say that what a person sees as beautiful, or not beautiful, is based on their past experiences and future expectations. Beauty becomes dependent on the context, there are no neutral perceptions. To quote Chaplin,
Michelangelo's Vitruvian Man is based on
proportion and measurement.
“Beauty, likewise, always appears in particular historical and social contexts. It is not the same for everyone at all times. It is always a complex set of factors and considerations which, when seen, evokes from us the exclamation: ‘How beautiful!’”
However, this belief implies that the beautiful is relative; existing or possessing a characteristic only in comparison to something else. It is not absolute. It is not beautiful on its own. 

Pythagoras and others discovered what they believed to be underlying principles which define what is beautiful. Pythagoras ascertained that beauty consists of proper measurement, proportion, and harmony. Both Plato and Augustine agreed and developed the ideal further, claiming that beauty and harmony are symbols of a universal order. To be without order or form is to lack beauty. These ideas are extremely similar to what we might consider the “elements and principles of design,” which consist of line, shape, texture, and repetition, among many others. These components have become common mechanisms today which we use to both create and critique art. 

Paul Cezanne. Portrait of Antony Valabregue.
1866-1870.

"When I judge art, I take my painting and I put it

next to a God made object like a tree or flower.
If it clashes, it is not art."
-Paul Cezanne
Chaplin dialogues about how art is beautiful because of its ability to articulate a “realm of pre-reflective experience which falls between the cracks of discursive language and abstract thought...this creates a world of imagined sensuous, embodied experience.” He goes on to quote Aquinas, who defines the beautiful as “that which pleases when seen.” So then, the beautiful is that which is technically correct, evokes a symbolic meaning, and is pleasing to the eye. However, Chaplin does not believe that beauty equates to truth. Aesthetics do not yield ethics.

Having said that, I respectfully disagree with Chaplin. Truth is not a moral code or a list of virtues; it is honesty and authenticity. In my opinion, a piece of truly beautiful art will be overflowing with the truth. In this, we must remember that the truth comes wrapped in many packages. Because a viewer does not “like” the work does not mean it is not beautiful or truthful. What makes art beautiful, what makes it truthful, is the passion of the artist behind it and their willingness to serve their art form. It is the readiness with which they strive for that authenticity. Applying a “canon of beauty” will lead the artist to aesthetic appeal, but to me this is not enough. While aesthetics are important, truth is more important, and we can recognize truth in art. It calls to us. It proclaims beauty.

To me, creating art has become a search for truth, and the truth is beautiful. 


“The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.” 
-Michelangelo

Aaron Westerberg. Belena. 

Westerberg is a contemporary artist who combines
classical methods with modern subject matter.
Sources
It was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God by Bustard
Pythagoras and the Beauty in All Things by Critchley
Grace and Necessity by Rowan Williams

Monday, November 10, 2014

Goodness

Kirsten Hallenbeck. Brandywine Falls. 2012.
In It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God, Bustard dedicates his first chapter to the concept of “good.” Before even beginning the chapter, I began to contemplate what the word good means. We use it so commonly, so flippantly. 

The dinner was good.

The evening was good.

The art was good.

But what is good? When you take away the dinner, the evening, the art, what is it? Many people define good in terms of good and evil, but I would rather define good as a something.  Webster’s dictionary defines good as a noun; something that is right. But it’s difficult to witness good; we can’t paint it, photograph it, or sculpt it. Yet somehow good continues to surface in art, in experiences, in people. Instead of being the subject matter, good reveals itself in a glimpse. 

A glimpse. In the Bible, Moses experiences God’s goodness in such a way. 
‘‘You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” Then the LORD said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.”’
Ned Bustard and Matthew Clark. And Such Were
You.
2006. Tinted woodcut, 22x30 inches.
So then, maybe a mere glimpse of goodness is the best way to experience it. Bustard and Clark’s woodcut piece And Such Were You focuses on this concept of goodness in a glimpse, by depicting the ark in great peril. Inside, the animals pictured are all traditionally symbolic of evil. They symbolize evil influence, laziness, the damned, temptation of the flesh, malice, cruelty, deception, gluttony, and guile. Bustard explains his choice of animals, stating,
“The passengers of the ark that God chooses to save are underserving. And so are we....Good may be mercurial to represent in regards to the Almighty, but His acts of goodness in creation, redemption, and providence can be seen as clearly as we see in the path of the wind through the trees. And as close to our experience as our very souls - God has washed, sanctified and justified the likes of us.”
Goodness, the good, it’s something that has become a part of us. While it can’t be necessarily defined or depicted on its own, it comes out all around us. We see goodness in a waterfall, in an embrace, in a soul.

But we are not good on our own. God is good. 
“The Christian does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us.” - C.S. Lewis
Santiago Carbonell. El Abrazo. 1960.


Sources
The Holy Bible, Zondervan Publishing
It was Good: Making Art for the Glory of God by Bustard 
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis