In his provocative little book, On the Strange Place of Religion in Contemporary Art, art historian James Elkins concludes that serious contemporary art and serious religion do not mix. But he acknowledges, "it is irresponsible not to keep trying." This blog follows Elkins's advice. In fact, it argues that both artistic and religious practices are inextricably intertwined because both emerge from the same origins, from the "wonder of being," as philosopher William Desmond calls it.
To practice art seriously is inevitably to open oneself to religion. And to practice religion seriously is to open oneself to the potential of art. This relationship is not inevitable. It gets shut down in any number of ways. Yet the possibility is always there, if there is sufficient seriousness. But, as I have written elsewhere in this blog (See "Great Culture?"), a lack of seriousness plagues both contemporary artistic and religious practice. Religious believers on the whole devote precious little time and effort to practicing their religion--we don't want our peers to think we take it too seriously. We don't want them to accuse us of being (gasp), a fundamentalist.
But what does it mean to take art seriously, to pursue serious art? I follow Tolstoy: "To define art correctly it is necessary first of all to cease to consider it as a means to pleasure, and to consider it as one of the conditions of human life." Art is not a narcotic, a self-indulgent recreation from the difficulties and banalities of life. Nor is it simply a means to pursue a successful career and provide for one's family. It is concerned with the exploration of what it means to live meaningfully as a human being through the production of aesthetic artifacts. As such, it is inherently ethical and thus touches religious mindfulness. I found myself thinking about Tolstoy when I was walking around the crowded convention center last month during the Vernissage opening of Art Basel, the international art fair in Miami Beach. Do the collectors, curators, dealers, and artists believe that art is what Tolstoy says it is? Do I? And if I do, why am I here, with those that don't?
Yet despite its superficiality, there are many in the contemporary art world who want something to take seriously. They want to believe that there is more to art than fashion and entertainment. The market crash in October 2008 has had a profound impact on the contemporary art world. There is a call for more seriousness. But from where will this seriousness come? Tolstoy would suggest that it would come from a rediscovery of authentic art itself, which is an art that is ascetic, which resists the temptation for self-indulgence and thus self-delusion. As I have written elsewhere ("Resistance"), art is an aesthetic practice and an ascetic discipline. Tolstoy's masterpiece, The Death of Ivan Ilych is one of the great examples. Its prose is stripped and its insights razor sharp. If the work of the two great artists of the last two decades, Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons, is to have lasting value as art (as opposed to, say, being merely an insightful indicator of our times) then it will need sensitive critics to trim the fat of whimsical self-indulgence in order to reveal a seriousness that has so far eluded the notice of even the artists themselves. It might very well be there.
Yet such seriousness can also come from religious believers in the contemporary art world, those who practice a religion, who already believe in the inherent meaningfulness of the world and who order their lives accordingly. The contemporary art world needs your voice; it needs your example, your discipline, your commitment. Of course, many will call you a fundamentalist. But they called Tolstoy a fundamentalist, too.
Moreover, to practice art seriously, to see it as means to become a better human being, is already to veer into religious practice. Tolstoy knew this. Even though he was often criticized by more orthodox Christian writers, such as Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Tolstoy embodied a profound religious sensibility. For Tolstoy art was, in the last analysis, his religion. But it was an art hewn from a religious mindfulness and in the service of religious principles.
The contemporary art world would be a much better place if there were more artists, curators, and critics who considered art to be their religion, who actually believed in art in a way that could be described as "religious." There has been a profound apathy toward serious belief in general in the contemporary art world. It has often considered unbecoming to take anything so seriously as to actually believe in it and order one's life in accordance with it, whether that belief is in a Velásquez or Jesus Christ. Or, for that matter, to take both religion and art seriously enough to disbelieve it. I find myself in agreement with Orthodox theologian David Bentley Hart, who observed in his most recent book, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable Enemies (Yale, 2009), that there are forms of atheism that he holds in higher esteem than some forms of Christianity. Belief and unbelief are often two sides of the same coin (Mark 9: 24). There are many who profess a toothless and vapid "belief" in the significance of art, in religion, but whose practices bear little evidence of such a commitment. We are often quick to point out those religious hypocrites, who proclaim their religious faith, while practicing a thoroughly unreligious private life. Yet the contemporary art world is populated with its own hypocrites, proclaiming the "importance" of art for life while at the same time they use it merely as an instrument of prestige, indicator of wealth, or a means to produce a successful career.
"True life," according to Tolstoy, "is not lived where great external changes take place—where people move about, clash, fight, and slay one another—it is lived only where these tiny, tiny, infinitesimally small changes occur." Because it teaches us to make finer and finer distinctions, to look and think and experience as intensely as possible--to be sensitive to these tiny, tiny, infinitesimally small changes--art can be a means of pursuing an authentic life, one lived for one's neighbor at the same time it is lived deep in the hidden recesses of the heart. A serious life.
Perhaps even a religious life.
Recent Comments