Once, during my idealistic years as a seminarian, I debated
the role of artists in the Church with one of my professors. I took the high road complaining that the
Church, as patroness of the arts was betraying her role by ordering all of her
art out of catalogues from where “art” (and dubious art at that) was stamped
out, spray painted, and shipped out to thousands of churches throughout the world
so that devotion to Mary could be like going to McDonalds in foreign cities;
one need never fear being introduced to something spectacular or different.
He countered that catalogue art made it possible for those
who can’t afford to commission an artist to produce something new to have
something. Besides, commissioning art
can be dangerous. Both of these points
are well taken. At the time I said, “If
they can’t raise the funds, they don’t really want it.” I might be less inclined to apply that
standard across the board today.
Still, if we can do it, we ought. It is a process that is both expensive and,
in some cases, dangerous. So here are
two counter arguments for the problem of commissioning art being dangerous and
the accusation that it is too expensive.
First, I do agree it can be a dangerous endeavor but by no
means un-exciting. By dangerous I mean this: At a former parish a statue of Mary was
commissioned. When she was unveiled
there was a collective gasp from those who were present. The gasp was not in awe of the beauty of the
statue but of mild revolt or at least disappointment. There was nothing that symbolically told you
that this was Mary in the least and her proportions were such that she gained
the moniker “Stay Puffed Marshmallow Mary.”
But what if we stop taking chances? What if we no longer engage artists to create
new and good religious art? Artists will
always seek out those who will commission them so that they may put food on the
table. If only the secular world will
secure their services, then the only art in the world will be secular art. If we want Catholic artist of any type, we
need to support, encourage, and offer them our resources. If not, the alternative is that we will have
plastic art and the non-Catholic world will cultivate artists and the art
world.
One of the many arguments against spending money on artists
and their art is that the “money could be used to feed the poor.” Yes it could.
This is an accusation often lobbed at the Vatican. It is said that the vast storehouses of art
and history should be sold to the highest bidder and the resources gained
should house, clothe, and feed the poor.
That sounds in keeping with our Christian mandate.
But then what? The
next day you will still have the poor and there will be no art for them. It is not adequate to survive on cheese, a
stark room, and some covering for your body.
The poor also need beauty. That
is why public art is so important. It is
why religious art is even more important.
How many places can you go to enjoy art?
Most museums have admission fees.
Our beautiful government
buildings discourage “loitering.”
Most other truly artistic buildings are either private or will cost the
person entering it (clubs, restaurants, schools, etc.) The possible exception might be the
library. But even so, how many of these
places have art that point directly to the Creator? To saintly living? That tell the stories of salvation
history? That lead man beyond himself to
something greater?
Then there is your parish church. Nobody must pay for the holy water or the
Body and Blood of their God. Here prince
and pauper alike hear some of the oldest literature on earth and are
(hopefully) surrounded by good art and can listen to important music. Where else does this exist? And should all of this be sold and Catholics
meet in a barn so that for a year someone was able to eat a cheese
sandwich? No, not food alone! That in itself is a deprivation and a denial
of all that it is to be truly human. We
are more than animal.
There are four things that will bring about our salvation:
The One, the True, the Good, and the Beautiful.
And I believe that ultimately it will be the beautiful that will save
us. It is our duty not only to feed
nutritious food to the poor, it is also sinful not to offer them (and
ourselves!) the best, most nutritious food for the soul; art that we can
reasonably supply.
This is not an exhaustive arguement - but the beginning of the conversation.
3 comments:
Isn't that the same argument Judas gave to Jesus when the woman anointed him with perfume and her tears. The perfume was expensive and could have been sold to help the poor. Jesus countered him by saying, "the poor will always remain but there will be a day when I won't."
Yes, all the art the Church owns could be sold a billion times over for the sake of the poor and needy. But why can't we be like the woman and appreciate what we have. Art is really only a temporal and temporary version of eternal, permanent vision. We should appreciate what we have and celebrate those who keep hold of the ancient tradition of Religious Art.
Fr. V., you simply must get acquainted with David Clayton and the Way of Beauty. You'd like his article, "Why Create New Art or Music?", but you will find in him a profoundly kindred spirit when you read his "Just Because I Like It, Doesn't Mean It's Good" where he compares taste in art with taste for various foods.
Even if you don't love the article, you will still find an remarkable kinship in your shared love for "flourescent orange cheesey corn-puffs." He's from New Hampshire, so he calls them "Cheezy Wotsits", but no matter what you call them, your common ground of having "an insatiable appetite for these wonderful dusted pieces of crunchy manna" will surely serve as a a strong foundation for a lifelong friendship.
As a homemaker with young children I find myself (especially when I am sick) wishing we had more beauty in the house. So often we are too focused on only minimal necessity. When we need encouragement,it is often prompted by Beauty.
Samantha
Post a Comment