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07-22-10
If the Last Aren't First, They Should At Least Be Invited
If you are not an "artistic" type, then the thought of hanging out with songwriters or painters or actors is as alluring as hanging out with a flock of ducks—they seem aimless, stinky and speak in a language you don't care to understand.
Speaking as a creative, I want to make an appeal. If you are not perceiving any part of life through the eyes, ears and colors of an artistic, you are unwittingly uneducated and suffering.
As I am looking forward to our Re:Imagine forum this Saturday, it's easy for me to conjure up several instances in my life when the skewed view of an artist has opened up my understanding. We will be exploring the crucial role that artists play in the work of the Gospel and I have to wrestle with how my own life reflects this. True to form, I will use the example of my 4 year-old daughter.
The community of God had largely removed the artistic fringe from its halls in the later part of the twentieth century. Cathedrals were replaced with industrial parks, choirs moved out to make room for "praise teams" and visual art was relegated to whatever transition the slide volunteer chose to use for Powerpoint that weekend (wow, did you see that box-out?!). I think we suffer for it and our worship of the Almighty is diminished to malnourished programs void of transcendence.
A great teacher I heard years ago described it like a crowd entering a Kingdom, running across a drawbridge and pulling it up before the artists could make it in. The artists, by their nature, lag. They sit and ponder, they feel most comfortable when they are able to examine all of the shades before diving in. It's often slow.
Very...slow.
But they are far more analytical than they are often credited for and we are missing vital data when we don't bring them to the table. We are not fully leveraging the unique power that God gives only to artists.
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
–Arthur O'Shaughnessy, from "Ode"
There, Arthur and I have said it. Drop the drawbridge.
For His Kingdom alone,
JKB
I also blog at:
josephbarkley.com
louderthantheworld.com
Speaking as a creative, I want to make an appeal. If you are not perceiving any part of life through the eyes, ears and colors of an artistic, you are unwittingly uneducated and suffering.
As I am looking forward to our Re:Imagine forum this Saturday, it's easy for me to conjure up several instances in my life when the skewed view of an artist has opened up my understanding. We will be exploring the crucial role that artists play in the work of the Gospel and I have to wrestle with how my own life reflects this. True to form, I will use the example of my 4 year-old daughter.
It was June of 2009 and all of the parents were welcomed to an open house at preschool to see what their little tikes had been up to all year. We stepped into Tessa's classroom to discover the surprising amount of things you can make with Elmer's glue and popsicle sticks. But what caught my eye was a likeness that my girl had to draw of her daddy.
All of the key elements were there: I had the requisite eyes and limbs, the preponderant head. But I had to ask, "T, what's with all of the dots? Do I have a halo? Is that my shiny intellect?"
"Those are the little hairs you have when you don't shave."
This is slightly embarrassing. You see, I pride myself on keeping the dome slick and smooth. But the weeks get away from me sometimes and, well, the most important disciplines of my life get neglected.
My little artist noticed.
OK, silly example, I grant you. But the point is this: artists are looking at the same thing from a completely different spot in the room. They're looking at the same mountain from a different valley. They can describe truth in a way that many can't—or they possess truth that many do not. There will always be a large gap in information when the arts-for-arts-sake are not welcomed.
Now, I'm not saying that art always gives answers. In fact, I think it often falters when it feels it has to provide conclusions. Instead, I offer that great art helps us ask better questions. More precisely, great art helps us ask our deepest questions better.
All of the key elements were there: I had the requisite eyes and limbs, the preponderant head. But I had to ask, "T, what's with all of the dots? Do I have a halo? Is that my shiny intellect?"
"Those are the little hairs you have when you don't shave."
This is slightly embarrassing. You see, I pride myself on keeping the dome slick and smooth. But the weeks get away from me sometimes and, well, the most important disciplines of my life get neglected.
My little artist noticed.
OK, silly example, I grant you. But the point is this: artists are looking at the same thing from a completely different spot in the room. They're looking at the same mountain from a different valley. They can describe truth in a way that many can't—or they possess truth that many do not. There will always be a large gap in information when the arts-for-arts-sake are not welcomed.
Now, I'm not saying that art always gives answers. In fact, I think it often falters when it feels it has to provide conclusions. Instead, I offer that great art helps us ask better questions. More precisely, great art helps us ask our deepest questions better.
The community of God had largely removed the artistic fringe from its halls in the later part of the twentieth century. Cathedrals were replaced with industrial parks, choirs moved out to make room for "praise teams" and visual art was relegated to whatever transition the slide volunteer chose to use for Powerpoint that weekend (wow, did you see that box-out?!). I think we suffer for it and our worship of the Almighty is diminished to malnourished programs void of transcendence.
A great teacher I heard years ago described it like a crowd entering a Kingdom, running across a drawbridge and pulling it up before the artists could make it in. The artists, by their nature, lag. They sit and ponder, they feel most comfortable when they are able to examine all of the shades before diving in. It's often slow.
Very...slow.
But they are far more analytical than they are often credited for and we are missing vital data when we don't bring them to the table. We are not fully leveraging the unique power that God gives only to artists.
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
–Arthur O'Shaughnessy, from "Ode"
There, Arthur and I have said it. Drop the drawbridge.
For His Kingdom alone,
JKB
I also blog at:
josephbarkley.com
louderthantheworld.com
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