Not An Identity Crisis

Simba…

Mufasa! Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa!

Obviously, I’m not the only one who has issues with identity—I’ve got you, Simba—but considering recent life events, I had to roll my eyes a little when this week’s reading in It was Good Making Art to the Glory of God reminded me, once again, of my most recent struggles with self-discovery. It isn’t like current life events hadn’t painfully and directly reminded me of this for the past week multiple times over…

Ow…

Um… Yeah…

Abstract angst and irony aside, I found this one of the more interesting topics we’ve covered in class. This idea written in It was Good by Theodore Prescott stood out to me:

“Thinking about our own identities is particularly difficult for us, because we possess such clouded self-knowledge. As Walker Percy points out at the beginning of Lost in the Cosmos, ‘it is possible to learn more in ten minutes about the Crab Nebula in Taurus, which is 6,000 light years away, than you presently know about yourself, even though you’ve been stuck with yourself all your life.” (330)

This is certainly my experience.

Yet, America is incredibly identity focused. We have to know who we are. We brand ourselves. We join groups who claim to be one thing versus another. For me, solidity of identity has been difficult. I don’t know who I am. How am I supposed to tell you who I am?

According to a news article on Trinity Western University’s website, identities used to be a concern only of the fringes of American culture. Artists would consider and challenge them. Artists aren’t satisfied leaving established identities alone. The article says, “When we see identity as static, we paint people with stereotypes and do not see them for who they are. Art is one way to challenge static notions of identity by engaging the viewer in narratives that are unfamiliar to them, and that challenge their previously held notions.”

We need alternate views, challenges to our established perspectives of self, in order to develop healthy identities. Maybe settling isn’t the best course. I know without constant challenges to my identity, I would not be able to create a stronger version of myself, consciously choosing something better.

Recently, my favorite tidbit about identity is what Tim talked about in class recently: a study done with kids who play instruments. I thought this study truly revealing. A group of kids were asked how long they would play their instruments. Some would say a certain number of years, but the ones who would go on to become musicians or would continue playing their instruments into adulthood were those children who claimed they would play all their lives because they wanted to be musicians. Their identity was determined by their conviction. It was their decision. They changed to achieve something.

2 Corinthians 10:5

People underestimate how much their choices and thoughts affect who they are. I know even a single thought can make or break you. I also know, although it is difficult, we can deliberately choose our thoughts and shape our minds. We can choose who we are. Make change deliberate.

But, I think it’s very easy to succumb to our “identity” instead of shaping it, becoming stagnant.

Here’s a neat video that relates to this. Go to the original site for the script.

***

On Vimeo, the makers of this video wrote in the description:

“When your identity is boiled down to what you can do, what you have, and who others say you are, what happens to you? Do you drift off into mere shadow and lose touch with reality? Do you fall into a constant flux of emotions, moving from depression to elation? Or do you fight in this return journey home and search for that still small voice that calls you the beloved? Does this journey end, or is this a continuous cycle as you repress your self righteousness and seek humility?”

There’s a lot to consider in the journey of self discovery. But, being beat on the head over and over again with the question—who are you?—I’ve stopped acting like my identity is some mystical thing.

Maybe someday I’ll figure out who I am. It’ll just hit me someday. Someday…

I am meant to choose who I am. It isn’t some mystical thing. It isn’t something I have to wait to discover. It isn’t something another person defines for me.

Identity is my choice, not my crisis.

And I am an artist.

---

Sources linked/cited in text.

Sporadic Symbolism

Symbols are rather fascinating entities. Symbols are about storytelling. In a simple image, we are able to talk about something significant without words. Symbols can be universal or personal. The use of them in art can be tricky.

There is no doubt that a good symbol used in the right place is powerful. Using symbols recklessly in art can result in something difficult to relate to. In It was Good Making Art to the Glory of God, Gaylen Stewart writes that the abuse of symbols “. . . conveys that the artist’s inner feelings, experiences, or concepts are trivial, simplistically stated in a superficial way, rather than worked out with integrity through the art-making process” (149). I would say that we often label things like this as cliches. In this situation, the symbol takes over and the art loses its meaning, as the primary mode of the piece of art merely communicates the symbol.

I’m going to deviate from normal blog processing and jump around, because it’s just one of those jumping around kind of days.

Let’s talk about colors! I’ve always thought color symbolism was interesting. Here is what this one source says about it: “Color symbolism is the use of color as a representation or meaning of something that is usually specific to a particular culture or society. Context, culture and time are certainly important factors to consider when thinking about color symbolism.” I think this is true of all symbolism: we need context, culture, and chronology in order to best understand the existing symbols in our long standing and ever changing symbolic vocabulary.

Anyway, red is the color I have a secret relationship with on the side, so I’ll talk about it.

Red means a heckuvalot of things. I associate it most with life, sacrifice, and suffering, but most people think love, rage, or passion. In iconography, such as this lovely piece by Rublev, the red represents Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.

That’s Christ in the middle, but I’m sure you knew that.

Speaking of symbolism, this image is chock full of it. Halos, hand gestures, golden cups… In fact, I talked about this in a post before! Go read the symbolism part and educate yourself! Link!

Moving along at this random jumpy pace… There are many types of symbols, but the symbols I am now most interested in are the ones we’ve been recently told about in class. They aren’t traditional symbols today, but of a long time ago. I’ll tell a little story to explain this interest.

I was going to visit Karen, my mentor and professor, and the coolest person ever, and in her office I saw a neat piece of artwork. Naturally this was made by our one and only Tim Timmerman and featured a pelican, bleeding. I was mostly confused. I didn’t ask Karen about the piece, but I was intrigued. After another wonderful Art and Christ class, Tim talked about the use of the bleeding pelican to represent Christ. At this point, I’d forgotten the art hanging in Karen’s office, but I was going in later that week to meet up with her. Seeing it again, the piece made more sense. I instantly remembered what the pelican meant, and now it will always hold that meaning for me.

I like Tim’s version better, but here’s an example of the pelican.

I think this is a unique thing about symbols. Images can lose and gain meaning depending on the knowledge of the person viewing. In the case of personal symbols, unless you are simply an excellent storyteller, it is unlikely people are going to understand your symbols unless you literally spell it out for them in your artist statement. But, as there is an already established language, borrowing from it can be done interestingly and tastefully. With Tim’s piece, I felt like just learning a little bit about the symbolism he was using made me want to go pick up that Bestiary book he keeps bringing into class. I don’t know if this source is very good, but I looked up the pelican on this Medieval Bestiary site and this is what it said: “The pelican is Christ, who humanity struck by committing sin; the pelican cutting open its own breast represents Christ’s death on the cross, and the shedding of his blood to revive us.”

What I like about the use of these animal symbols is that most people wouldn’t know what they meant, but it still carries some kind of underlying weight that you get on a subconscious level, and it can tell its story without being completely obscure or completely cliche.

I’ve run out of words. Forgive me this haphazard excuse of a blog post. Expect better of me in the future.

Sources linked/cited in text.

Mount Angel Abbey

Mount Angel Abbey was beautiful. Since we were on a mountaintop, we could see a long ways. Benches were positioned outward throughout the area just to allow a place for looking out over the land. I could have easily stayed there all day. It would have been nice to grab a bench if it had been warmer.

After getting cookies and coffee from the welcoming area, we headed to the museum and checked out the artifacts there. There was a menagerie of taxidermically treated animals. Someone in our group suggested we look for our spirit animal and several picked out the creatures they identified with. I most enjoyed looking at the monk’s robes in the back of the room. After this, we were taken several other places including the library. At the library, we were told we wouldn’t be able to look at the illuminated manuscripts, disappointing as I greatly looked forward to this part of the trip.

This library is awesome.

My favorite part of the trip was the chant. We went into the sanctuary with books for the chant. When people more familiar with this practice entered their pews, the bowed before taking their place. During the chant, they often bowed. There was a strange power in this, and I don’t know if it was simply the urge to follow suit because other people were doing it. It made me want to participate a few more times to figure out what this practice is all about.

I thought it was interesting having the monks separate from the rest of us. It was also interesting how the left side would perform the chant and then the right side would perform the chant.

It was interesting listening to Brother Andre’s story. He was an incredibly interesting individual. It was strange enough seeing a monk with tattoos covering every visible place, including his hands. He was an incredibly laid-back guy, and I appreciated this as he reminded me of my uncle. He talked about how art needs to be done for more reason than making money. It was important to him that art be something special, individual.

Something fun about his relationship with clients during his tattoo artist years was that he started questioning why each person was getting their tattoo. He wanted to make sure they were getting something that truly expressed who they were as people and not simply getting a tattoo because they thought it looked cool. This is a unique perspective for a tattoo artist as it isn’t a very lucrative one. Questioning people’s motives for getting a tattoo is not something they expect when walking in. But, he cared more about the people coming in than in getting money for it.

This made me think more about how my art can be done in the service of others, not simply for myself. How can we love others by making art? How can we make art that helps other people? We should make art for its own sake, to capture the good of an individual piece, but how should we be paying attention to things outside of our art and be addressing those things with our art?

Photos found via Google images and this awesome article on Brother Andre.

Babette’s Feast

Babette’s Feast was a fun, quirky movie. The story centered around Martina and Philippa, two Danish women who attracted the attention of every eligible (and non-eligible) man in the vicinity. Men would go to church to catch a glimpse of these two, and I really enjoyed the incredibly cheesy stares during the church service scenes, where the men wouldn’t even try to hide the fact that they were engrossed in these two lovely ladies visages.

Who would later be General Lorens attempts to court Martina, but gives up and leaves, despite his obvious adoration for her. Philippa is tutored by Achille Papin who believes her singing will take France by storm. She, of course, does not wish to leave her home, and Papin leaves without her.

Achille Papin tutoring Philippa

Later, Papin sends Babette to the two much older ladies to serve them in their home. Babette does it without expectation of pay. All we know is she does not want to return to France.

Early on, it’s mentioned her only connection with France is a lottery ticket renewed. We quickly assume that she’s probably going to win the lottery, but what will happen when she does? She naturally wins 10,000 francs and this is what she decides to do first:

Like most people who win the lottery, she decides to spend her money on the ingredients to create an elaborate French feast.

I have to say, watching her prepare the food made me really, REALLY hungry.

I mean, seriously, look at this cake. This cake looks delicious. Is that a rum sauce? Wish we had smellivision and tastivision… Somebody get on that, pronto.

But what’s confusing about this feast is that the diners have this religious ideal that they cannot enjoy earthly pleasures. Thankfully, Martina and Philippa also invite General Lorens, the guy who had (and has) a thing for Martina, to enjoy the feast with their select congregation. He makes the scene comical. Here, everyone is intentionally avoiding any remarks that have to do with the absolutely divine meal before them, and the oddball, Lorens, is simply amazed by everything set before him. He shares our confusion over why these people aren’t totally fangirling over how good the food is.

To give you a taste of this, here’s a dub of the dinner scene. Fast forward to 4:20 to catch a glimpse of the contrast of Lorens enthusiasm against the random moral quotes from the little gathering of church people.

Silly people. We’re all jealous. Enjoy that food, for goodness sake!

Look at this cutie. He’s so excited. It just makes me happy.

The other person who makes the dinner scene enjoyable is this guy, right here.

He’s sitting in the kitchen where Babette’s cooking and I’m pretty sure that he has this adoring look on his face throughout the entire scene. For Babette, too, not just the wine.

When the meal is over, everyone is in a good mood (the copious amounts of alcohol Babette served them must have loosened them up) and they thank Babette for the feast. Then we find out… Babette spent all 10,000 francs on the dinner

Martina says, “Now you’ll be poor for the rest of your life.”

Babette responds, “An artist is never poor.”

She did all this for the sake of her art. She was a prestigious chef in France. Cooking is her art and all she wants is what the following quote states:

And so she did. She performed her best. Lorens recognized her work, having had experienced it once before. This art had a great impact on the people receiving it. It was something memorable, unforgettable, and all because Babette performed her very best for the sake of her art form. Even though the majority of the diners did not directly praise Babette’s gift, their obvious change in demeanor toward the end of the night was evidence of the great influence her work had on them.

In response to the fact that Babette doesn’t intend to leave and take up her practice again, Philippa, who’s voice was praised by Papin as she praises Babette, says, “In Paradise you will be the great artist that God meant you to be. Ah, how you will delight the angels!” This ties into something I believe about everyone on this earth. We may not all fulfill our calling as artists, as creative people during life on earth, but in heaven, there will be nothing hindering us from fulfilling every aspect of who God called us to be.

Anyway, it’s a nice movie. I liked it. Though, I’d warn you not to watch it while hungry.

Apparently, Beauty Is…

Apparently, beauty is undefinable.

In this week’s reading of It Was Good Making Art to the Glory of God, Adrienne Chaplin discusses beauty in regards to art and life in general, and how we seek its definition. People frequently jump the gun trying to define beauty. At one point, using the word beautiful gave the idea that the physical attractiveness of the piece of art meant that it lacked in one way or another. The modern art movement is seen to have rejected beauty, considering it superficial.

Apparently, beauty is meaningless.

Now, the word beauty is welcomed, but not defined as it should be. In our book, Chaplin says beauty should be more than skin deep: “In this ‘deep beauty’ of a work of art, formal beauty and metaphoric meaning come together in providing us with a symbolic, suggestive, and sensuously rich structure which appeals not only to the five sense traditionally so called, but also to our sense of justice, peace, equality, safety, belonging and so on” (47). Modern embodiments of beauty in American culture appear in kitschy art, surface level aesthetics, and a fascination with making the body beautiful.

Apparently, beauty is a product.

Chaplin writes that beauty is defined as a perception that pleases by Aquinas (44). Researching worldwide perceptions of beauty, photographer and journalist Esther Honig sent her picture to 25 different countries and 40 different people to be photoshopped. She says ” . . . all I request is that they ‘make me beautiful’.”

Here are just a few diverse examples of the experiment.

Original Photo

Ukraine

Morocco

Argentina

U.S.A.

Chile

Commenting on these photographs, she says, “They are intriguing and insightful in their own right; each one is a reflection of both the personal and cultural concepts of beauty that pertain to their creator.”

Apparently, beauty is a perception.

This experiment in perceptions hardly cover the full range of human definitions of beauty, the wild ideas seen in certain cultures, such as the long necks of the Kayan tribe in Thailand:

A super long neck is considered both beautiful and elegant. Up to twenty pounds of rings can end up around a woman’s neck. Don’t quote me, but I heard that if these rings are removed after stretching the neck so unnaturally, their heads would collapse.

Ethiopia’s Karo tribe considers scarring to be sexy; “a form of adornment cherished” by their people:

This could be compared to tattooing.

Perhaps the most difficult perception of beauty to grapple with is the practice of the Mursi Women of Southern Ethiopia:

They “insert clay plates into their lower lips to stretch them out, increasing the size of a plate incrementally to make their pouts ginormous. This ritual is a symbol of both sexual maturity and beauty.”

It’s that unique feature of human beings to see their own bodies as a landscape, a piece of art to shape to their standards of beauty.

Apparently, beauty is diverse.

So, how can we know what beauty is if the definition is so difficult to pin down?

Trying to define beauty is much more difficult than simply finding beauty. I find that the beauty-is-a-product mentality of American culture often hinders the confidence of individuals in themselves as well as taking away the diversely odd and imperfect characteristics that make beauty so interesting and creative a creature. Nature is interesting and imperfect and transcendent in its beauty. My own perception of beauty ties into my values of truth: I like things as they were made by God, in their natural beauty. I can appreciate other expressions of beauty as long as they are not harmful, but they should be creative and unique to individuals, expressing that God-given diversity. The uniform perfection of American beauty is overrated, but modern artists’ rejection of beauty as a superficial thing also fails to recognize that beauty is simply being defined incorrectly.

Apparently, finding beauty is a journey.

As we continue looking for the definition, little definitions of beauty accumulate in our reservoir of truth. Finding this is, this is, this is beautiful, we can try talking about beauty in a complete way.

Sources:

It was Good Making Art for the Glory of God edited by Ned Bustard

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2012/may/02/modern-art-reluctant-embrace-beauty

21 Countries Photoshopped Her Face To Show Different Standards Of Beauty.

http://www.estherhonig.com/#!before–after-/cvkn

http://www.city-journal.org/2009/19_2_beauty.html

http://www.cosmopolitan.com/style-beauty/g3279/weird-beauty/?slide=1

http://www.orchidspa.co.uk/home/

Make Good Art

In the new book we’re tackling in class, It was Good Making Art for the Glory of God, the first chapter (written by Ned Bustard) talks about art as it relates to good and evil. This first chapter focuses on this concept of goodness. Looking on the internet for goodness as it relates to art, I constantly come across the above quote by Neil Gaiman. It tells us to make art regardless of circumstance, especially terrible circumstance. But it isn’t a call to only make art. It’s a call to make good art. Good art isn’t defined as any particular thing. It isn’t this sculpture versus that painting because of such and such reason. Good art brings truth to light.

Often, life sorrows are the means of communicating this goodness, as evil often draws goodness into consideration as a sharp contrast. In this way, Bustard says the best way to communicate goodness through art is through indirect means. Direct attempts at pure goodness are often difficult to relate to, especially as pain and suffering are such stark realities for us. Good is often diluted in the name of the greater good of truth revelation (27-32).

But, an interesting point made about goodness is that it can exist without evil, but evil cannot exist without goodness. Like the quotes above, bad things happen, but art uses them for good. Good is found in evil, but goodness can exist without evil. As an example of art exuding only goodness, Bustard talks about Theodore Prescott’s piece, Taste and See. It is a bowl of honey in a marble slab, encouraging people observing it to taste the honey. The work has a sacramental nature in this way and intends to reveal the goodness of God. The experience found in this piece is one only of delight, untainted by evil (27-29).

Taste and See. 1996-1997. Butternut, Colorado marble, hand blown glass, Tupelo honey, (26″l, 11.5″w, 34.5″).

Taking Bustard’s quote: “As C.S. Lewis wrote, ‘[E]vil is not a real thing at all, like God. It is simply good spoiled. That is why I say there can be good without evil, but no evil without good . . . Evil is a parasite. It is there only because good is there for it to spoil and confuse” (Bustard 29).

Some philosophies argue that good can’t exist without evil and so this piece of art isn’t intrinsically good. It has to have evil in order to understand its goodness. On debate.com, I found a debate between two people arguing this point. Here is the argument:

Another thing is if everything is good than there is no good because you wouldn’t know what good is because you wouldn’t have anything to compare it with. For example if everything was beautiful and there was no ugliness in the world then you wouldn’t know what beauty was because you would have nothing to compare it too. Everything must have an opposite in order to exist.

This philosophy links directly to the idea of yin and yang, the idea of balance and duality. This seems a valid argument. In my experience, evil does make good more apparent.

The other debater talked about Augustine’s argument of evil being unable to exist without good. Looking up Augustine’s argument, I found it made foundational claims anyone can attest to:

These two contraries are thus coexistent . . . if there were no good in what is evil, then the evil simply could not be, since it can have no mode in which to exist, nor any source from which corruption springs, unless it be something corruptible. Unless this something is good, it cannot be corrupted, because corruption is nothing more than the deprivation of the good. Evils, therefore, have their source in the good, and unless they are parasitic on something good, they are not anything at all.

Like in Prescott’s piece, we see that good can exist without evil. It’s possible to experience joy without pain. It’s possible to experience joy within the context of pain. But evil is definitely dependent on good’s existence and not the other way around. Art’s goodness comes from truth. As in the comic at the start, we need to take what life throws at us and make good art.

Sources:

It was Good Making Art for the Glory of God edited by Ned Bustard

http://www.debate.org/debates/Good-can-exist-without-Evil/1/

http://oregonstate.edu/instruct/phl201/modules/Philosophers/Augustine/augustine_evil.html

http://zenpencils.com/comic/50-neil-gaiman-make-good-art/

http://www.bloglovin.com/viewer?post=2284380027&group=0&frame_type=a&context=&context_ids=&blog=10967517&frame=1&click=0&user=0

http://tedprescottsculpture.com/portfolio/taste-and-see/

http://1ms.net/yin-yang-217568.html

This Is the Walk

Gilles on a walk.

Professor Amy Gilles, whom I found through Northwest Nazarene University’s website, loves to walk. She likes to explore in the outdoors as well as with her art. She says, “Much of my work explores the experience of walking and the way we come to know or feel connected to a place by moving through or around it. . . . When I make a painting or drawing based on a walk I’ve taken in the landscape I am converting a fleeting, transient experience into something tangible. I am always looking for ways to take abstract or subjective experiences and represent them in ways that other people can identify with and share.” Exploration and journey are themes in Gilles’s work and faith.

Unbound Bonding Watercolor on paper 22” x 27” 2014

Gilles came to know God in preschool and has always identified herself as Christian. She had trouble with doubt as a young adult due to chronic pains that caused her to question God’s goodness. She wondered why He wasn’t healing her and trusting Him was hard. In graduate school she reconciled some of these doubts and worked to reconcile her relationship with God. She says, “it is a daily choice to trust that God is for me and that He is trustworthy.”

Cat’s Cradle Watercolor on paper 22” x 27” 2014

Her faith journey parallels naturally with her walk in art. When asked how faith influences her art, Gilles says, “The metaphor of faith as a walk or a journey has taken on new meaning as I make artwork about journeying through both real landscapes and sometimes more symbolic ones like new ideas, relationships and experiences. God is a God of order, beauty and incredible creativity and I feel a responsibility to reflect these characteristics in my own art.” Her most recent show, Line of Thought, illustrates this in a fun and beautiful array of lines and curves that look like tangles and mazes, what she likes to call mind maps.

Mind Map I, Pen and ink on paper 12” x 15” 2014

This work has to do with process, exploration of the mental landscape. She doesn’t concentrate on the lines themselves, instead finding herself trailing off into thought and weaving in and out of that landscape of the mind, just as these mazes do. She relates this process to the journey of Christians. She says Christians need to be more honest about the way their spiritual journeys actually progress, twists and turns with no set pattern. Relating her personal faith journey, she says, “Sometimes I feel like I am stuck in a rut, repeating old patterns or failing in the same ways. Other times I feel like I am walking closely with the Lord, overcoming fears and insecurities in exciting ways! The truth is that each of our journeys looks different and it will continue to be a process throughout all our lives.”

Maelstrom, Watercolor and salt on paper with thread, 18.5” x 38” 2014

In commenting about the difficulties of integrating faith and art, Gilles argues integration is inevitable. As a Christian artist, the work can hardly help reflecting the artist’s faith as both are wholly part of the artist. She says she is less drawn to art that beats you over the head with Christian messages, and that art is often easier to relate to and asks more interesting questions when left as open ended works. She doesn’t set out to deliberately integrate faith elements. Her faith journey and life interweave into her art naturally.

Window Installation

Through her art, and her Line of Thought show in particular, Gilles tells us that faith and life are not straight lines from A to B, but mazes full of twists and turns, exciting, scary, and perplexing. Like in her art, there are places that are clear and some obscured, and some journeys are more tangled than others. But, this is the process. This is the exploration. This is the walk.

Additional Notes:

Thank you to Professor Amy Gilles for giving me the privilege of interviewing her!

All these lovely images stolen… ehem… I mean, borrowed from Gilles website. Go visit! She has several galleries of awesome art! Her MFA show is really fun, as well!