TASTE IS DEBATABLE, BUT IT IS NOT INFINITELY DEBATABLE

Do you remember the old air fresheners that looked like a cone? When you lifted up the plastic cone a bit from the base, there was a waxy substance that gave off a “pleasant scent.” Did you ever look and see what the waxing bar on the inside looked like after using the air freshener for a couple of weeks? It twisted and deformed, holes forming through the body of it. Keep this image in mind for a moment.

There is a beautiful Romanesque church in the heart of downtown Akron. When I was in college at the University of Akron someone donated a piece of art for their sanctuary. It looked a whole lot like the inside of that air freshener accept that it was white, was a water fountain, and was HUGE. It sat right up in the sanctuary. It was considered appropriate for church use because of its title, “The Holy Spirit.” But is all art, even good art, appropriate for church use or does liturgical art have further qualifications?

At my last parish there is a very large statue of Mary. It is well loved by a few, but most either hate or ignore it. Personally I think it an interesting piece worth contemplating as art, but am not so sure that it qualifies as liturgical art. The statue depicts a bloated woman with few features holding a child against her shoulder who appears to be in a jump suit. Because of this she gained such nicknames as Tundra Mary and Stay Puffed Marshmallow Mary. The artist purposefully made the face bland so that one could impose on it any person he desires. I think those who dislike the statue are reacting to their inability to relate to her not as art, but as a person. In other words, this statue lacks “the personal”.

In similar fashion is another piece in the diocese that has earned the title, “Tinfoil Jesus.” The crucifix for one of our parishes looks as though someone crunched up a bunch of tinfoil and formed it roughly into the shape of the crucified body of our Lord. It is actually a much nicer piece than that. It is carved linden wood which was then painted silver. Once again the artist’s intent was to allow us to impose upon it our own image of Jesus.

The problem is, we do not impose images onto pieces like this well. If tinfoil and marshmallows are presented we tend to see tinfoil and marshmallows. Now, it could be argued that most of our images of Mary and Jesus look more unlike them than like them. (Or take poor Saint Thomas Aquinas, how many fair representations are made of his ample girth? Or Saint Augustine? There is the thought that he was actually a man of color. See that often?) But still, we are less irritated by these specific yet erring images than by the less specific images that allows us to imagine the “essence” of a person. Why? Because it is ultimately the most personal that becomes the most universal. We are far more moved by the suffering of a specific mother at the death of her son than at the concept of “mothers mourning sons”. That is why we depict God the Father as an old man with a beard. It is difficult to love “a distinct mode of being.” (Boff)

For these reasons it is rare that the Church has ever commissioned art for art’s sake. First and foremost she uses art to teach and inspire. Because of this, a language of symbols has developed over the centuries that clue us in about the various persons being depicted whether in glass or paint or what have you.

The only thing about the Mary statue that clues you into the fact that this is Mary and Jesus is the title of the piece and the fact that it sits to the left of the sanctuary. The wood relief of Saint Joseph and Jesus in the same parish has the same deficit. If it would be stored away in a basement and drug out some day in the future by someone who was unfamiliar with it, there would be no clue as to whom it represents. Is it Joseph and Jesus? Is it Abraham and Isaac? Is it just two anonymous people?

“Beauty, unless she is wed to something more meaningful, is always superficial.” – Donna Tart

“The one, the true, the good, and the beautiful, they come together and they go together.” – Fr. Benedict Groeschel

Liturgical art is always about something more than beauty. It must convey truth, it must lift up, and it must give glory to God. When any one of these are neglected we end up with some odd creation that while it might attract our attention will fail in its primary duty to touch and instruct souls in the manner we intend as Church.

Liturgical art at its best then is instructional, personal, beautiful, and inspirational to the fullest extent that the community can muster. Do I believe then that Fr. O is a liturgical art snob? No. The windows in question may be of artistic value and they do seem to be somewhat useful for instruction. An argument could ensue as to whether they are inspirational or not (you may guess my position on that.) But where I find them (and much of modern liturgical art) most lacking is in the personal. The figures are so abstract (and I do think somewhat scary) that they fail to inspire an affinity with the persons they intend to portray. They are distant figures of another race and therefore have no relationship to me. They are untouchable.

What a shame.

HAPPY 160th BIRTHDAY DIOCESES OF CLEVELAND!