Modern Art

The engine that drives God in the Gallery is my assertion that Christian reflection on art has profoundly misunderstood modern art. And this is because it misunderstands art in general. Art has no timeless essence. It is a cultural practice that makes use of the aesthetic in particular and distinctive ways that are embodied in institutional contexts that consist of initiating its practitioners into a living tradition in which such practices have significance. In the East and the West for centuries this living tradition was embodied in and preserved through the Church. In the West the Church was not merely art’s “patron,” it invented it and gave it meaning. Therefore, it was only within the interpretive context of the living tradition of the Church that, for example, Giotto’s frescoes can be understood as meaningful.

Unfortunately, Christians artists and writers often rip the remarkable aesthetic achievements of Giotto, Michelangelo, Raphael, and others from the institutional framework of the fifteenth century Latin Church in order to make their “look” inherently Christian and a canon for all artistic practice. (This of course comes as a surprise to those Russian Orthodox theologians who found such Renaissance naturalism to be consonant with a humanized Christian faith.) The result is that painting that doesn’t conform to such a look is condemned or questioned as unskilled, obscure, anti-American, and subsequently “anti-Christian.”

But let us return to art as a cultural practice. Modern art evolved a related yet distinctive institutional framework in contrast to the Church on one hand and the State-sponsored Academy on the other. Among many other things, this cultural practice enlisted painting in the service of self-discovery and exploration, a means of social transformation, and cultural critique. None of these values were privileged in the Church or in the Academy. This does not make them wrong. It is rather the result of the development of new and different institutional embodiments of aesthetic practice, in which painting, for example, evolves new kinds of meaning and significance. As a result, in this different institutional context, canvases painted black or with drips or slashes of brightly colored oil paint have meaning and significance, as do the presentation of ordinary objects. Moreover, they are intended, like all artistic objects, to be meaningful only to those who are willing to be initiated into the living tradition of its institutional context. Art’s kinship to religion is instructive. The artifacts of a particular religion are intended only for those who practice that religion. The Bible, for example, is written by believers for believers. The idea that “Art” must speak directly and clearly to the uninterested, distracted, and impatient public is the worst of modern secular myths, yet one which most Christian cultural warriors who denigrate “Modern Art” nonetheless embrace without reservation.

The result of all this is that many art departments in Christian colleges and universities suffer from an acute identity crisis. The secular belief about "Art" is not only embraced by administrators, it is given further authority by being wrapped in the cloak of Christian theology and piety. (Again, the Russian Orthodox theologians would be horrified at that identification). Whether we like it or care to admit it or not, contemporary artistic practice, as it is taught in elementary school, presented in museum tour groups, embodied in your local art gallery, and taught in all art departments, is inherited directly from the tradition of modern art.  The problem is that there is much in the tradition of modern art that is silly, stupid, and harmful. Unfortunately, I believe it is precisely those aspects that are most problematic that are embraced by our secular culture, and thus likewise embraced by our Christian institutions of higher education. These art departments, then, suffer from a profound identity crisis, pulled in all kinds of different directions, with no clear direction for what they are actually doing.  This can result in a kind of self-loathing that is transferred to the students, whose love of art is transformed into its instrumental use as a means to ends more readily appreciated and understood by the Church:  “evangelism and outreach” or a job doing layout in an ad agency.

Rather than be content to continue to react against a silly caricature of “modern art,” art departments at Christian colleges and universities should embrace it as a robust cultural practice that is two centuries old that offers tremendous resources for those committed to sorting through its complex and fascinating history and development. Art is so much more than its Christian and secular defenders claim it to be. As Robert Frost once said, “the best way out is always through.” And so it is only through a deeper understanding of the practice of modern art that Christian artists, writers, and educators will be poised to make significant contributions to the Church and the broader culture and thus fulfill their destiny prophesied by Hans Rookmaaker in the late sixties and early seventies.  Who would have thought that the life of a culture depends on modern art?

Comments

[M. Leary]

This is excellent, Dan. I spend much of my time assessing the aesthetics of early Christian literary habits. This involves cataloging the inscription of texts and the binding of books, but it also involves pondering sets of abbreviating symbols and markings that aided in the reading of these texts. In terms of typography, these are often quite beautiful, and were certainly innovative (sometimes pictographic). Alongside the development of these markings came further decorative embellishments on texts, and then more creative and effective methods of book-binding.

All this is to say that Christian art may have its genesis in these fledgeling efforts to produce useful texts. Your point that "art's kinship to religion is instructive" brought to mind this convergence in earliest Christian history. At first it sounds as if the sad utilitarian evangelism/outreach capitulation you mention is at play here, but it really isn't. As a bookbinder, I can see a creative ingenuity at work in early Christianity, an aesthetic dimension of their passion for this new faith. When one moves through the record south towards the Coptic church, these wonderfully abstract cover designs begin to appear pretty early on. In the North and West, covers became more figural in tone - but there is a clear expressiveness involved with the production of these early books that is disconnected from the need to "speak directly and clearly to the uninterested." These early texts are true objets d'arts that could sit beside any Fluxus kit or Paolozzi experiment as provocative meditations on form, function, and material narrative. I certainly try to capture this spirit in my current binding.

[daniel a. siedell]

Thanks for your great observations. The Christian tradition is so aesthetically rich; it offers tremendous resources to help us experience and think through much modern and contemporary artistic practice.