Pulitzer Prize-Winning photojournalist and student of Ansel Adams, Dallas Kinney is a photojournalist, writer, director of graphic arts, and Sunday features editor. He has also worked in computer-based multimedia and television and film production. Kinney's communication skills have been utilized by many of the nation's prominent newspapers and magazines, by major profit and non-profit corporations and by national television networks. As a newspaper journalist he has worked for the Washington Evening Journal (Iowa); Dubuque Telegraph Herald (Iowa); Palm Beach Post (Florida); Miami Herald (Florida); and the Philadelphia Inquirer (Penn).
As a photojournalist, Kinney received the following awards: Pulitzer Prize for Photojournalism, Robert F. Kennedy Journalism Award, World Press Association/Photojournalism, and more.
Kinney's photojournalism has been featured in exhibits at the National Geographic Society (Martin Luther King assassination); Pulitzer Prize Photos exhibits in Japan and Korea (current); Traveling Exhibit of Pulitzer Prize Photos to U.S. Universities and Colleges (current), and more.
Kinney has been a featured speaker and lecturer at the National Geographic/University of Missouri Visual Workshop, the Medil School of Journalism, Miami Communications Conference, the World Press Institute, and more. With his wife Martha, Kinney co-authored and presented eight daylong communication and marketing workshops for the international fine art industry in Miami Beach, Los Angeles, New York City and Atlanta.
Kinney preceded his photojournalism career as a student of renowned nature photographer Ansel Adams in Carmel, Calif. He confirms his abiding love for and ongoing desire to create “Adams-like” photographs.
LeAnne: What draws you to photography?
Dallas: I made my first photograph for money at 28 years of age, so I wouldn’t say I was drawn to photography as a profession, or a passion.
My first love was performing arts. I was a dramatic arts major at the University of Iowa and moved to Chicago and New York City, respectively, to become the next Gene Kelly, of musical comedy fame.
My first experience with photography, beyond the occasional snapshot, was with Maggie Besson, a noted professional photographer in Chicago. Maggie made a series of promotional photographs of me for my first professional gig, “A Night on Broadway, with Dallas Kinney.”
Maggie did a spectacular job. To my abject embarrassment, I didn't have money enough to pay her for her photographic services. Rather than having me roughed up by some of her seamier back alley acquaintances, Maggie graciously allowed me to work off my debt by assisting her in her studio. She taught me how to process film and make prints. She even allowed me to carry her camera case on some of her more notable photographic commissions for the city of Chicago.
I became intrigued by Maggie's profession, but with performing arts still my abiding passion, I moved on to New York City. Providentially, my success in show business was far from being spectacular. Probably the best thing I did in New York City was to buy my first 35mm single lens reflex camera. I soon found myself spending more time making pictures than practicing dance steps or musical scores. Wisely, I gave up my childhood dream and “moved on.” In fact, I literally moved on from New York City to Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.
One day, as I was walking the streets of Carmel, I came upon a gallery that featured photography. I walked inside, and within moments, found myself hyperventilating.
The gallery featured the photography of Ansel Adams, the icon of nature photographers. I had never seen anything quite like this man's work. Sadly, until that moment, I hadn't known that he existed. My ignorance didn't last long: I went to the nearest library and researched everything I could on one Ansel Adams.
I discovered Adams lived in San Francisco, a mere two hours and nine minutes away from where I was standing. With further research I discovered where his home was located. Within one week I sat in my car, in his driveway, planning to make a personal, impassioned appeal for the opportunity to study with him. For the first, and probably the last time in my life, I “chickened out.”
I drove back to Carmel and wrote Ansel a letter begging him to let me study with him. In the letter I enclosed a self-addressed and stamped postcard. On the card I had four declarations, each with the box beside it, one of which he was to check. The statements, relating to my desire to study with Ansel were: "Yes! No! Let's talk about it!; and...Get out of my life, kid!"
The card came back with the "Let's talk about it!” box checked, accompanied by a gracious letter from Ansel informing me he had just moved to Carmel and wanted me to join him and his wife at their new home for cocktails. Needless to say, I accepted.
You asked if I was drawn to photography. With my exposure to Ansel Adams, I wasn't just drawn to photography; I dove in and did exuberant back strokes.
LM: What would you say was the most important lesson, advice or technique that you picked up from Adams?
DK: Adams taught me three major and memorable aspects of nature:
1. Light!
2. Light!; and
3. Light!
Ansel understood and proved – in his pantheistic way – what Genesis 1, verses 3-4, so dramatically declare: “And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw that the light was good…”
You just don’t make photographs without light, unless you’re doing an esoteric study on “Black Cats in Coal Bins.”
Yesterday morning on my way home in the North Georgia mountains, I came upon a quintessential Appalachian Spring scene: A long lane, bordered by at least 20 trees, resplendent with delicate white blossoms. At night, no picture. At noon, borrrrring. But in that magnificent morning light, filtered through a high haze…it was a scene of glory.
I challenge your readers to search out some of Ansel Adam’s work. View it, with your Bible open to Genesis 1 as a proof-text. Then, try to tell me that “In the beginning God created…” is a fallacy.
Ansel also taught me, up close and personal, what French author Marcel Proust said so well: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”
Ansel Adams taught me to…“See!”
I know that statement sounds like I’m making the obvious profound, but to “see,” in the vernacular of an Ansel Adams, takes energy. Demands focus. And can only be accomplished successfully with an attitude of humility.
With gratitude and thanksgiving, I later was allowed to apply all of my Ansel Adams insights as I made a transition from nature photography to a career in photojournalism.
On Thursday, Dallas Kinney will talk about what it was like to win the Pulitzer Prize.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Ted Prescott, Part 2: On Identity
Sculptor Ted Prescott earned his MFA from the Rinehart School of Sculpture at the Maryland Institute College of Art. He has taught at several colleges, including Messiah College where he chaired the Department of Visual and Theatrical Arts, and Gordon College, where he led the Orvieto Program in Italy in spring 2003. He has a long list of exhibitions, commissions, and installations. His work has been included in many collections including the Cincinnati Museum of Art, the Armand Hammer Museum of Art at UCLA, the Vatican Museum of Contemporary Religious Art, and others. His grants and honors include scholarship grants and Distinguished Professorships from Messiah College as well as $25,000 from the Foundation for the Carolinas. He has been quoted or referred to in many books and articles. He edited and wrote the first chapters of A Broken Beauty (Eerdmans) and Like a Prayer: A Jewish and Christian Presence in Contemporary Art (Tryon Center for Visual Art). He has also written chapters for other books and magazine articles. A sought-after speaker, Ted also serves on the advisory board of IMAGE and served as president of Christians in the Visual Arts (CIVA) from 1985-1989.
LeAnne: Many people say that art made by Christians will communicate their faith, either directly or indirectly. In your essay in the book It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God, you argue that "not all art by Christians will express or communicate their faith in a discernable way" (p. 323). Can you explain what you mean by that?
TP: In my essay, I argue that it is simplistic to think art made by Christians will inevitably express the Christian faith in some way. It is understandable that people—both artists and audiences—might want this to be the case. And many times art does express the world view of the artist. But I don’t believe that human artifacts and significations are always easily sorted into Christian and non Christian categories. We can’t always tell by looking at an artwork what the beliefs and intentions of an artist are, because there are areas of commonality between Christians and non Christians, and artists use similar means for different ends. For example, two portraits may both be well painted, affirm the dignity of their subjects, and offer insight into the sitter’s character. Apart from being told one painter is a Christian, how would we know? And, other things being relatively equal, does the fact that one artist is a Christian necessarily matter? Cannot the non Christian make work consonant with some aspects of a Christian understanding of reality?
It may be even trickier to discern intentions and viewpoints when the subject matter is Christian. I knew a pastor who had a reproduction of Salvador Dali’s famous Crucifixion of St. John of the Cross done in 1951. It is a compelling, slightly hallucinatory painting, and for the Pastor, an affirmation of Christ’s presence. But I’m not sure one can make the case that Dali’s painting—or his other works with Christian subjects—are the expression of Christian conviction. I want to tread lightly here—Dali’s “real” beliefs are unknown to me. But the whole body of Dali’s work and the statements I’ve read lead me to believe that his use of Christian subjects was not for the purpose of Christian expression. Yet my friend saw in it a confirmation of belief. Perhaps he saw his own beliefs, not Dali’s?
LeAnne: How would you encourage someone who is struggling with his/her identity as an artist and a Christian?
TP: If I understand the question correctly, you are asking how to deal with tensions between two identities—as artist and as Christian. Apart from specific situations, it is difficult to answer. But tensions still do occur from two general predispositions. Christians tend to look for art that fulfills some concept of expressive communication which may be socially useful. And by in large the world of contemporary “advanced” art has neither the inclination nor the critical resources to engage thoughtful work that takes the Christian faith seriously. The friction between these two predispositions creates arthritis in the body of believing artists today.
LM: Is there anything more you'd like to say about Christians in the Arts?
TP: In summary, the answers to this question and to the last question are a) make art; b) read, look, think, and pray; and c) give due respect to good, serious work—regardless of who made it.
LeAnne: Many people say that art made by Christians will communicate their faith, either directly or indirectly. In your essay in the book It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God, you argue that "not all art by Christians will express or communicate their faith in a discernable way" (p. 323). Can you explain what you mean by that?
TP: In my essay, I argue that it is simplistic to think art made by Christians will inevitably express the Christian faith in some way. It is understandable that people—both artists and audiences—might want this to be the case. And many times art does express the world view of the artist. But I don’t believe that human artifacts and significations are always easily sorted into Christian and non Christian categories. We can’t always tell by looking at an artwork what the beliefs and intentions of an artist are, because there are areas of commonality between Christians and non Christians, and artists use similar means for different ends. For example, two portraits may both be well painted, affirm the dignity of their subjects, and offer insight into the sitter’s character. Apart from being told one painter is a Christian, how would we know? And, other things being relatively equal, does the fact that one artist is a Christian necessarily matter? Cannot the non Christian make work consonant with some aspects of a Christian understanding of reality?
It may be even trickier to discern intentions and viewpoints when the subject matter is Christian. I knew a pastor who had a reproduction of Salvador Dali’s famous Crucifixion of St. John of the Cross done in 1951. It is a compelling, slightly hallucinatory painting, and for the Pastor, an affirmation of Christ’s presence. But I’m not sure one can make the case that Dali’s painting—or his other works with Christian subjects—are the expression of Christian conviction. I want to tread lightly here—Dali’s “real” beliefs are unknown to me. But the whole body of Dali’s work and the statements I’ve read lead me to believe that his use of Christian subjects was not for the purpose of Christian expression. Yet my friend saw in it a confirmation of belief. Perhaps he saw his own beliefs, not Dali’s?
LeAnne: How would you encourage someone who is struggling with his/her identity as an artist and a Christian?
TP: If I understand the question correctly, you are asking how to deal with tensions between two identities—as artist and as Christian. Apart from specific situations, it is difficult to answer. But tensions still do occur from two general predispositions. Christians tend to look for art that fulfills some concept of expressive communication which may be socially useful. And by in large the world of contemporary “advanced” art has neither the inclination nor the critical resources to engage thoughtful work that takes the Christian faith seriously. The friction between these two predispositions creates arthritis in the body of believing artists today.
LM: Is there anything more you'd like to say about Christians in the Arts?
TP: In summary, the answers to this question and to the last question are a) make art; b) read, look, think, and pray; and c) give due respect to good, serious work—regardless of who made it.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Ted Prescott: On Identity
Sculptor Ted Prescott earned his MFA from the Rinehart School of Sculpture at the Maryland Institute College of Art. He has taught at several colleges, including Messiah College where he chaired the Department of Visual and Theatrical Arts, and Gordon College, where he was visiting artist in the Orvieto Program in Italy in 2003. He has a long list of exhibitions, commissions, and installations. His work has been included in many collections including the Cincinnati Museum of Art, the Armand Hammer Museum of Art at UCLA, the Vatican Museum of Contemporary Religious Art, and others. His grants and honors include scholarship grants and Distinguished Professorships from Messiah College and more. He has been quoted or referred to in many books and articles. He edited and wrote the first chapters of A Broken Beauty (Eerdmans) and Like a Prayer: A Jewish and Christian Presence in Contemporary Art (Tryon Center for Visual Art). He has also written chapters for other books and magazine articles. A sought-after speaker, Ted also serves on the advisory board of IMAGE and served as president of Christians in the Visual Arts (CIVA) from 1985-1989.
LeAnne: What is your background in the arts? What draws you to sculpture?
Ted: I waivered between art, literature, and biology growing up. When I learned that biology required chemistry, that door closed. After one year as an English major, the English faculty suggested I might not be suited to a life of parsing texts. The physicality of the visual arts has always drawn me. We use our bodies making art, and the result is a physical artifact, engaging our senses. The material embodiment found in sculpture is more substantive than in other visual arts and I have a special interest in the role that materials play in sculpture.
LM: In the book It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo), you have a thought-provoking essay on identity called “Who Do You Say I Am?” My next few questions will focus on that essay. Why is it dangerous to assume that we can get to know an artist through his or her work?
TP: It is dangerous to assume we can know an artist through their work because the artwork is an incomplete or insufficient revelation. There is a parallel to theology here, because in similar fashion the creation can’t lead us to an accurate understanding of God’s character or purposes. The natural world teaches us much about design, majesty, and power, but it is mysteriously silent about the creator’s attitudes and intentions. It is the revelation of God in Jesus Christ that confirms God’s purposeful love and redemptive suffering. That’s still mysterious, but much more sharply focused than trying to discern the creator’s character from roses and mountains, or aphids and avalanches. Just as in our faith, in art we often “see” evidences of the artist’s character in their work after we’ve been told what to look for.
The belief that art reveals the artist is—historically speaking—a pretty new idea. In our culture it is supported by three factors: the lingering Romantic notion of the expressive artist/genius; the Freudian legacy that animates pop psychology; and a marketplace that promotes personality as a product. I find very little support in either the long historical view of art or in the Biblical record for believing that the artist’s persona is central to understanding the artwork, and that the art work necessarily reveals the artist. It may, but it also may not. Put bluntly, artists can fail to disclose, invent, or lie through art. Why should we think otherwise?
More from Ted Prescott on Thursday.
LeAnne: What is your background in the arts? What draws you to sculpture?
Ted: I waivered between art, literature, and biology growing up. When I learned that biology required chemistry, that door closed. After one year as an English major, the English faculty suggested I might not be suited to a life of parsing texts. The physicality of the visual arts has always drawn me. We use our bodies making art, and the result is a physical artifact, engaging our senses. The material embodiment found in sculpture is more substantive than in other visual arts and I have a special interest in the role that materials play in sculpture.
LM: In the book It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo), you have a thought-provoking essay on identity called “Who Do You Say I Am?” My next few questions will focus on that essay. Why is it dangerous to assume that we can get to know an artist through his or her work?
TP: It is dangerous to assume we can know an artist through their work because the artwork is an incomplete or insufficient revelation. There is a parallel to theology here, because in similar fashion the creation can’t lead us to an accurate understanding of God’s character or purposes. The natural world teaches us much about design, majesty, and power, but it is mysteriously silent about the creator’s attitudes and intentions. It is the revelation of God in Jesus Christ that confirms God’s purposeful love and redemptive suffering. That’s still mysterious, but much more sharply focused than trying to discern the creator’s character from roses and mountains, or aphids and avalanches. Just as in our faith, in art we often “see” evidences of the artist’s character in their work after we’ve been told what to look for.
The belief that art reveals the artist is—historically speaking—a pretty new idea. In our culture it is supported by three factors: the lingering Romantic notion of the expressive artist/genius; the Freudian legacy that animates pop psychology; and a marketplace that promotes personality as a product. I find very little support in either the long historical view of art or in the Biblical record for believing that the artist’s persona is central to understanding the artwork, and that the art work necessarily reveals the artist. It may, but it also may not. Put bluntly, artists can fail to disclose, invent, or lie through art. Why should we think otherwise?
More from Ted Prescott on Thursday.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Poets of the Past: Through the Eyes of Readers
Throughout the ages, poetry—both the writing and the reading of it—has helped us make sense of the human experience. Poems written by Christians that have stood the test of time often ask difficult questions, exploring the depths of our relationship to a holy but loving God. With beautiful words and images, these poets’ work can still give glory to God and edify and encourage their readers. Here are a few of them through the eyes of readers who admire their work.
John Donne (1572-1631): English poet and preacher who wrote sonnets, love poems, religious poems, songs, sermons, and more.
Crystal Miller, writer and book reviewer: I have a special place in my heart for John Donne who wrote Death Be Not Proud and For Whom the Bell Tolls, Go and Catch a Falling Star, Holy Sonnet XIV and A Hymn to God the Father.
He understood spiritual struggles, and he wrote about them. [When I first studied his work], I didn’t think they were allowed to do that back then—to question and show that they struggled with the battle raging in a man’s heart.
Donne could do puns, could be humorous. So much of his work was picked up into our modern language (like “no man is an island”).
John Milton (1608-1674): English poet best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost.
Bryon Harris, bookstore owner and former English teacher: Paradise Lost is justly celebrated, though falling into the dustbin of literary criticism. But his 23 sonnets live on and boy, are they all great. In #23, blind Milton dreams of his beloved second wife, now passed.
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
Whom Joves great son to her glad Husband gave,
Rescu’d from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint, [ 5 ]
Purification in the old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail’d, yet to my fancied sight, [ 10 ]
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin’d
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me she enclin’d,
I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.
William Cowper (pron. Cooper) (1731-1800): popular English poet and hymn writer.
David Bruce Linn, pastor-teacher, radio Bible teacher, and writer: I am moved by William Cowper’s The Task, which is too long to be enjoyed but contains the stunning portion below. Cowper fell cyclically into deep depression which included fears of damnation so he relived the joy of his first salvation experience repeatedly.
I was a stricken deer, that left the herd
Long since: with many an arrow deep infix’d
My panting side was charged, when I withdrew,
To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There was I found by One who had himself
Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore,
And in his hands and feet, the cruel scars.
With gentle force soliciting the darts,
He drew them forth, and heal’d, and bade me live.
Excerpt of an article I wrote that first appeared in The Lookout, December 17, 2006.
Next week, I'll be featuring sculptor Ted Prescott.
John Donne (1572-1631): English poet and preacher who wrote sonnets, love poems, religious poems, songs, sermons, and more.
Crystal Miller, writer and book reviewer: I have a special place in my heart for John Donne who wrote Death Be Not Proud and For Whom the Bell Tolls, Go and Catch a Falling Star, Holy Sonnet XIV and A Hymn to God the Father.
He understood spiritual struggles, and he wrote about them. [When I first studied his work], I didn’t think they were allowed to do that back then—to question and show that they struggled with the battle raging in a man’s heart.
Donne could do puns, could be humorous. So much of his work was picked up into our modern language (like “no man is an island”).
John Milton (1608-1674): English poet best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost.
Bryon Harris, bookstore owner and former English teacher: Paradise Lost is justly celebrated, though falling into the dustbin of literary criticism. But his 23 sonnets live on and boy, are they all great. In #23, blind Milton dreams of his beloved second wife, now passed.
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
Whom Joves great son to her glad Husband gave,
Rescu’d from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint, [ 5 ]
Purification in the old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail’d, yet to my fancied sight, [ 10 ]
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin’d
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me she enclin’d,
I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.
William Cowper (pron. Cooper) (1731-1800): popular English poet and hymn writer.
David Bruce Linn, pastor-teacher, radio Bible teacher, and writer: I am moved by William Cowper’s The Task, which is too long to be enjoyed but contains the stunning portion below. Cowper fell cyclically into deep depression which included fears of damnation so he relived the joy of his first salvation experience repeatedly.
I was a stricken deer, that left the herd
Long since: with many an arrow deep infix’d
My panting side was charged, when I withdrew,
To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There was I found by One who had himself
Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore,
And in his hands and feet, the cruel scars.
With gentle force soliciting the darts,
He drew them forth, and heal’d, and bade me live.
Excerpt of an article I wrote that first appeared in The Lookout, December 17, 2006.
Next week, I'll be featuring sculptor Ted Prescott.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Edwina Findley, Part 2: Behind the Scenes, Too
I’m posting a little early this time. Here is the conclusion of my interview with Edwina Findley. Edwina began her theatre, dance, and music training at an early age. She went on to graduate with honors from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts. In addition, she was a soloist in the Gospel Choir, an active member of the Tisch Scholars Program, and president and founder of the NYU Chrisitan Artists Coalition.
Since completing her training at NYU, she has appeared on HBO’s hit The Wire, Law and Order: Trial by Jury, NY-70, Conviction, and One Life to Live. Theatrically, she has performed Off-Broadway and at some of the nation’s finest regional theatres. She enjoys singing and has toured musically throughout the US, Europe, and the Caribbean.
LeAnne: In addition to being an actor, you are also an inspirational speaker. Tell me about Abundant Life Creative Services.
Edwina: Abundant Life Creative Services LLC is an organization of entertainment professionals passionate about helping urban youth and adults maximize their God-given potential. Upon noticing the detrimental impact negative forms of entertainment were having upon the lives of inner-city youth, we knew God had given us a piece of the solution. We’ve presented over one hundred arts-trainings, inspirational workshops, keynotes, and performances all over the country and we’re just getting started! We’re definitely excited about keeping up the momentum and using our voices to make a lasting difference in the lives of others.
LM: How has your faith impacted your work and vice versa?
EF: I’ve noticed that many people feel if you’re a Christian who sings, dances, or acts, your ministry should essentially be your art. For me that’s not really the case. While acting is one of my talents, my primary spiritual gifts are encouragement and discernment. Most of my ministry goes on in the culture and behind the scenes- in greenrooms, dressing rooms, on set, online. I have seen some tremendous things take place behind the scenes that no audience will ever know about. That’s what being a Christian in the Arts means to me.
Since completing her training at NYU, she has appeared on HBO’s hit The Wire, Law and Order: Trial by Jury, NY-70, Conviction, and One Life to Live. Theatrically, she has performed Off-Broadway and at some of the nation’s finest regional theatres. She enjoys singing and has toured musically throughout the US, Europe, and the Caribbean.
LeAnne: In addition to being an actor, you are also an inspirational speaker. Tell me about Abundant Life Creative Services.
Edwina: Abundant Life Creative Services LLC is an organization of entertainment professionals passionate about helping urban youth and adults maximize their God-given potential. Upon noticing the detrimental impact negative forms of entertainment were having upon the lives of inner-city youth, we knew God had given us a piece of the solution. We’ve presented over one hundred arts-trainings, inspirational workshops, keynotes, and performances all over the country and we’re just getting started! We’re definitely excited about keeping up the momentum and using our voices to make a lasting difference in the lives of others.
LM: How has your faith impacted your work and vice versa?
EF: I’ve noticed that many people feel if you’re a Christian who sings, dances, or acts, your ministry should essentially be your art. For me that’s not really the case. While acting is one of my talents, my primary spiritual gifts are encouragement and discernment. Most of my ministry goes on in the culture and behind the scenes- in greenrooms, dressing rooms, on set, online. I have seen some tremendous things take place behind the scenes that no audience will ever know about. That’s what being a Christian in the Arts means to me.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Edwina Findley: “The Arts Remind Me I’m Alive!”
Edwina Findley began her theatre, dance, and music training at an early age. She went on to graduate with honors from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts. In addition, she was a soloist in the Gospel Choir, an active member of the Tisch Scholars Program, and president and founder of the NYU Chrisitan Artists Coalition.
Since completing her training at NYU, she has appeared on HBO’s hit The Wire, Law and Order: Trial by Jury, NY-70, Conviction, and One Life to Live. In addition, she has performed Off-Broadway and at some of the nation’s finest regional theatres. She enjoys singing and has toured musically throughout the US, Europe, and the Caribbean.
Edwina also developed Abundant Life Creative Services, which seeks to inspire, equip, and empower people of all ages to maximize their God-given potential through motivational and artists workshops, inspirational materials, dynamic performances, and individual consultations.
LeAnne: What is your background in acting? What draws you to acting?
Edwina: I’ve been acting since age three. I started by reciting chapters from the Psalms at church, then by age five did my first musical- Psalty’s Christmas Calamity. What fun! My mom kept me in performing arts programs, ministries, and schools, until finally attending NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts for Acting.
I’ve always loved the arts because they give people the ability to express themselves viscerally and creatively. There’s something so compelling about a moving aria or heartfelt dance or hilarious monologue. It’s like unbridled feeling and emotion. The arts remind me that I’m alive!
LM: Which character have you portrayed that has been most challenging?
EF: My most challenging role to date was in an Off-Broadway play called UGLy. I played Alice Marie, a 22-year-old woman with an eight-year-old son and a baby on the way. She had suffered domestic abuse for nine years and was ultimately killed by her boyfriend and father of her children. It was actually the true story of the playwright’s sister who had been murdered only one year prior to the play’s opening. You can imagine how challenging an experience this was for me.
LM: You have acted in TV shows and pilots. What have your characters been like? What have you learned from them?
EF: Believe it or not, since playing a female gangster on HBO’s drama The Wire, most of my subsequent television roles have been from the wrong side of the tracks—on parole, substance abusers, criminals, etc. It’s become a running joke with me and my friends, because my real personality and lifestyle couldn’t be anything further! Surprisingly, stepping into the lives of these characters has allowed me to see their experiences through a different lens. I’ve become a lot less judgmental and much more compassionate. Now when I have the privilege of ministering to people in similar situations, I feel like I can relate to what they’re dealing with and going through.
Since completing her training at NYU, she has appeared on HBO’s hit The Wire, Law and Order: Trial by Jury, NY-70, Conviction, and One Life to Live. In addition, she has performed Off-Broadway and at some of the nation’s finest regional theatres. She enjoys singing and has toured musically throughout the US, Europe, and the Caribbean.
Edwina also developed Abundant Life Creative Services, which seeks to inspire, equip, and empower people of all ages to maximize their God-given potential through motivational and artists workshops, inspirational materials, dynamic performances, and individual consultations.
LeAnne: What is your background in acting? What draws you to acting?
Edwina: I’ve been acting since age three. I started by reciting chapters from the Psalms at church, then by age five did my first musical- Psalty’s Christmas Calamity. What fun! My mom kept me in performing arts programs, ministries, and schools, until finally attending NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts for Acting.
I’ve always loved the arts because they give people the ability to express themselves viscerally and creatively. There’s something so compelling about a moving aria or heartfelt dance or hilarious monologue. It’s like unbridled feeling and emotion. The arts remind me that I’m alive!
LM: Which character have you portrayed that has been most challenging?
EF: My most challenging role to date was in an Off-Broadway play called UGLy. I played Alice Marie, a 22-year-old woman with an eight-year-old son and a baby on the way. She had suffered domestic abuse for nine years and was ultimately killed by her boyfriend and father of her children. It was actually the true story of the playwright’s sister who had been murdered only one year prior to the play’s opening. You can imagine how challenging an experience this was for me.
LM: You have acted in TV shows and pilots. What have your characters been like? What have you learned from them?
EF: Believe it or not, since playing a female gangster on HBO’s drama The Wire, most of my subsequent television roles have been from the wrong side of the tracks—on parole, substance abusers, criminals, etc. It’s become a running joke with me and my friends, because my real personality and lifestyle couldn’t be anything further! Surprisingly, stepping into the lives of these characters has allowed me to see their experiences through a different lens. I’ve become a lot less judgmental and much more compassionate. Now when I have the privilege of ministering to people in similar situations, I feel like I can relate to what they’re dealing with and going through.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Barry Morrow, Part 2: Excellence in Our Work
Today I'm concluding my interview with Barry Morrow. Barry brings over twenty years of experience in working in the marketplace with businessmen through teaching, consulting, and counseling. He has served on the staff of Reflection’s Ministries for the past eight years, and spent the previous fifteen years in pastoral ministry in a nondenominational church in suburban Atlanta. Reflections Ministries is a non-profit organization that focuses on men in the workplace, encouraging and equipping them to lead productive and fulfilling lives.
Barry’s first book, Heaven Observed: Glimpses of Transcendence in Everyday Life, was published by NavPress in 2001. The book examines our desire and quest for meaning and happiness in this life, and examines the various avenues through which we attempt to find such fulfillment, such as our work and leisure. Occasionally Barry can be found exploring the haunts of C.S. Lewis and his Inklings companions when he can make his way to England.
LeAnne: How would Lewis encourage artists who are Christians?
Barry: Several things come to mind. First, the artist should be serious about becoming the very best he or she can be in that arena of artistic expression, whether it be painting, photography, writing, film-making, etc. The excellence of our work should be foremost in our thinking.
In one of my favorite essays of Lewis, “Good Work and Good Works,” he distinguishes between “Good works” that are generally considered and called as much in religious contexts, versus “good work,” which is generally referred to as one’s vocational “work.”
On this issue, Lewis writes: “And good works need not be good work, as anyone can see by inspecting some of the objects made to be sold at bazaars for charitable purposes. This is not according to our example. When our Lord provided a poor wedding party with an extra glass of wine all round, he was doing good works. But also good work; it was a wine really worth drinking….” The way he closes this essay is quite appropriate to a lot of “good works” done in the name of Christianity: “’Great Works’ (of art) and ‘good works’ (of charity) had better also be Good Work. Let choirs sing well or not at all.”
Wasn’t it Dorothy Sayers who said, “The only Christian work is a work well done”? A lot of churches and ministries ought to give Sayers’ and Lewis’ words some serious thought.
Second, I think Lewis would warn the artist about the subtlety of pride. As he cautions us in Mere Christianity, pride is the Great Sin, the supreme vice, and while the “sins of the flesh” are bad, they are the “least bad,” he says, of all sins: “That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither.” That’s vintage Lewis, and pride can become a stumbling block for the artist who comes to think more highly of himself, and his work, than he should.
I love that scene in The Great Divorce, Lewis’ theological fantasy about a busload of people who are taken to Heaven, and who can stay as long as they wish (ironically, but not to be missed, only one person decides to stay, as they all wish to get back to their dismal life in Hell…). One of the many vignettes of people who arrive in Heaven is the man who had been the “famous artist” on earth. As he is anxious to start painting upon his arrival in the Bright City, one of the bright spirits warns him:
“Ink and catgut and paint were necessary down there, but they are also dangerous stimulants. Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells, to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him. For it doesn’t stop at being interested in paint, you know. They sink lower—become interested in their own personalities and then in nothing but their own reputations.”
When the ghost who had been the famous artist inquired about “interesting people he might meet, distinguished people,” he is met with an interesting response: “”But they aren’t distinguished—no more than anyone else. Don’t you understand?...They are all famous. They are all known, remembered, recognized by the only Mind that can give a perfect judgment…”
LM: Do you think Christians who are not artists should support those who are? Why?
BM: If you mean by support, “financially,” I would say perhaps so, but not necessarily so. I go back to my earlier comment in question one, that, to borrow from Lewis, “Christian” is a noun, and not an adjective. So if the question is whether I as a “Christian” should support those artists “who are Christians,” a number of questions arise.
If I like the work and believe it to be a “Good Work” (see my discussion about this from Monday’s interview), I may consider purchasing an artist’s work (painting, photograph, novel, etc.), but I don’t believe there is a biblical warrant for me to “support” those who are Christians simply because they are Christians. Malcolm Muggeridge once observed, “Either all of life of sacred, or none of it is sacred.” If all of life is sacred, then I need not compartmentalize between the secular and sacred, because it in fact doesn’t exist.
In an interview conducted by Sherwood Wirt in 1963, Lewis was asked if he believed that the Holy Spirit can speak to the world through Christian writers today. His response, in part, relates I think to this question:
“I prefer to make no judgment concerning a writer’s direct ‘illumination’ by the Holy Spirit…God is not interested only in Christian writers as such. He is concerned with all kinds of writing. In the same way a sacred calling is not limited to ecclesiastical functions. The man who is weeding a field of turnips is also serving God.”
Barry’s first book, Heaven Observed: Glimpses of Transcendence in Everyday Life, was published by NavPress in 2001. The book examines our desire and quest for meaning and happiness in this life, and examines the various avenues through which we attempt to find such fulfillment, such as our work and leisure. Occasionally Barry can be found exploring the haunts of C.S. Lewis and his Inklings companions when he can make his way to England.
LeAnne: How would Lewis encourage artists who are Christians?
Barry: Several things come to mind. First, the artist should be serious about becoming the very best he or she can be in that arena of artistic expression, whether it be painting, photography, writing, film-making, etc. The excellence of our work should be foremost in our thinking.
In one of my favorite essays of Lewis, “Good Work and Good Works,” he distinguishes between “Good works” that are generally considered and called as much in religious contexts, versus “good work,” which is generally referred to as one’s vocational “work.”
On this issue, Lewis writes: “And good works need not be good work, as anyone can see by inspecting some of the objects made to be sold at bazaars for charitable purposes. This is not according to our example. When our Lord provided a poor wedding party with an extra glass of wine all round, he was doing good works. But also good work; it was a wine really worth drinking….” The way he closes this essay is quite appropriate to a lot of “good works” done in the name of Christianity: “’Great Works’ (of art) and ‘good works’ (of charity) had better also be Good Work. Let choirs sing well or not at all.”
Wasn’t it Dorothy Sayers who said, “The only Christian work is a work well done”? A lot of churches and ministries ought to give Sayers’ and Lewis’ words some serious thought.
Second, I think Lewis would warn the artist about the subtlety of pride. As he cautions us in Mere Christianity, pride is the Great Sin, the supreme vice, and while the “sins of the flesh” are bad, they are the “least bad,” he says, of all sins: “That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither.” That’s vintage Lewis, and pride can become a stumbling block for the artist who comes to think more highly of himself, and his work, than he should.
I love that scene in The Great Divorce, Lewis’ theological fantasy about a busload of people who are taken to Heaven, and who can stay as long as they wish (ironically, but not to be missed, only one person decides to stay, as they all wish to get back to their dismal life in Hell…). One of the many vignettes of people who arrive in Heaven is the man who had been the “famous artist” on earth. As he is anxious to start painting upon his arrival in the Bright City, one of the bright spirits warns him:
“Ink and catgut and paint were necessary down there, but they are also dangerous stimulants. Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells, to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him. For it doesn’t stop at being interested in paint, you know. They sink lower—become interested in their own personalities and then in nothing but their own reputations.”
When the ghost who had been the famous artist inquired about “interesting people he might meet, distinguished people,” he is met with an interesting response: “”But they aren’t distinguished—no more than anyone else. Don’t you understand?...They are all famous. They are all known, remembered, recognized by the only Mind that can give a perfect judgment…”
LM: Do you think Christians who are not artists should support those who are? Why?
BM: If you mean by support, “financially,” I would say perhaps so, but not necessarily so. I go back to my earlier comment in question one, that, to borrow from Lewis, “Christian” is a noun, and not an adjective. So if the question is whether I as a “Christian” should support those artists “who are Christians,” a number of questions arise.
If I like the work and believe it to be a “Good Work” (see my discussion about this from Monday’s interview), I may consider purchasing an artist’s work (painting, photograph, novel, etc.), but I don’t believe there is a biblical warrant for me to “support” those who are Christians simply because they are Christians. Malcolm Muggeridge once observed, “Either all of life of sacred, or none of it is sacred.” If all of life is sacred, then I need not compartmentalize between the secular and sacred, because it in fact doesn’t exist.
In an interview conducted by Sherwood Wirt in 1963, Lewis was asked if he believed that the Holy Spirit can speak to the world through Christian writers today. His response, in part, relates I think to this question:
“I prefer to make no judgment concerning a writer’s direct ‘illumination’ by the Holy Spirit…God is not interested only in Christian writers as such. He is concerned with all kinds of writing. In the same way a sacred calling is not limited to ecclesiastical functions. The man who is weeding a field of turnips is also serving God.”
Monday, March 03, 2008
Barry Morrow: Art & the Extraordinary Goodness of God
Barry Morrow brings over twenty years of experience in working in the marketplace with businessmen through teaching, consulting, and counseling. He has served on the staff of Reflection’s Ministries for the past eight years, and spent the previous fifteen years in pastoral ministry in a nondenominational church in suburban Atlanta. Reflections Ministries is a non-profit organization that focuses on men in the workplace, encouraging and equipping them to lead productive and fulfilling lives.
Barry’s first book, Heaven Observed: Glimpses of Transcendence in Everyday Life, was published by NavPress in 2001. The book examines our desire and quest for meaning and happiness in this life, and examines the various avenues through which we attempt to find such fulfillment, such as our work and leisure. Occasionally Barry can be found exploring the haunts of C.S. Lewis and his Inklings companions when he can make his way to England.
LeAnne: You're a C. S. Lewis expert. What would Lewis say about the tendency of today's Christians to pull away from the culture into the safety of our own subculture?
Barry: I’m not so sure about being a “Lewis expert,” as you say, but unquestionably, he has greatly impacted my worldview and thinking on many subjects, including the Christian faith. I’m not sure what Lewis would make about this tendency of Christians to pull away from culture at large, other than that it is dreadful state of affairs.
In many ways, it is a form of Gnosticism, a philosophy the early church faced, a system of thought which gave preeminence to the “spiritual” over the “physical,” creating a dualism that is entirely unbiblical, and also denies the Incarnation—God becoming flesh (John 1). But there seems to have always been this tendency for Christians to either become assimilated into the prevailing culture or for them to develop their own subculture.
Lewis’ early comments in the Preface to Mere Christianity, where he defines what the term “Christian” means, is instructive as to the disastrous effects of withdrawing from the world. While the word “Christian” means “one who accepts the common doctrines of Christianity,” more often than not it has become reduced to an adjective, instead of a noun. He points out that while the word “gentleman” has faced a similar fate, as it originally meant one who had a coat of arms and some landed property (stating a fact about him), now it has been reduced to paying someone a compliment if we call him a “gentleman.” In an earlier time, there was no contradiction in saying John was a liar and a gentleman, Lewis says. His point is that “gentleman” has now become a useless word, and the same could be said of the way people use the term “Christian” in an adjectival sense rather than using it as it should be used, as a noun. Walker Percy once mused that the word “love” no longer has meaning in our culture, and I think the same is true of the word “Christian.” It has become nonsensical, void of any true meaning. Today, we have “Christian” yellow pages, ”Christian” bookstores, “Christian” conferences, “Christian” music, etc. And sad to say, the Christian label is often synonymous with mediocrity. It is symptomatic of our retreat from the world.
LM: How can Christians be in the culture but not of it?
BM: There is no easy answer to this question. The apostle Paul clearly had issues with Christians in the first century, particularly Corinth, in this regard. They thought they were to avoid all “immoral people” and misunderstood his comments to be about all people (1 Corinthians 5).Yet he reminds them that to avoid all immoral people, they would literally have to leave the world, and that he was actually referring to people leading immoral lives who called themselves Christians.
I’ve often used the phrase that we are to be “socially linked” or engaged, but “spiritually distinct” from this temporal age, which, as Paul reminds us, is passing away (1 Corinthians 7). And I think our Lord gives us the supreme example, as we see in the Gospels, of how He lived out His life in this fashion. The passage in Matthew 5 of Levi’s call to discipleship comes to mind. Immediately after his decision to follow Jesus, he throws a banquet at his home for all his friends (great sinners, them all, for who else would befriend a tax-collector?), and guess who’s there? Jesus and His disciples. How many pastors today, or for that matter Christians, would show up at that kind of party? Most Christians are too busy with their “religious” affairs to cultivate relationships with those who are not Christians.
But there is also the need for fellowship, sound teaching from the Scriptures, and support from other Christians, the body of Christ, lest we become assimilated into the culture. If we are truly seeking to live the Christian life, it is always going to be lived in tension, isn’t it? To live between that which is temporal (chronos), and that which is eternal (kairos)? To remember, as Tony Campolo says in his great sermon, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!!”
LM: Why do we need art and artists?
BM: “Need” art and artists? If this were a purely utilitarian world, a mechanized universe where matter is all that has ever existed (the atheistic position), then we as humans would not need, not expect, art or artists. Art shows us, I think, the variegated Goodness of our Heavenly Father, who as James describes the situation, “Every good thing bestowed and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of all lights” (James 1:17). So I see art as part of the extraordinary goodness of God in our lives.
But on the human level, I would suggest that art, if it is well done and true to Reality, shows us what it means to truly be human. The great writers of the world, such as Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Dickens, and others, portray the human condition as it truly is, as humanity in need of redemption. This was one of the primary reasons that led Malcolm Muggeridge to belief late in life, as he came to see the Christian faith for what it truly is, a “sacred drama” in which we are each playing out our parts before an audience of One.
I remember the playwright Arthur Miller was once asked how he recognized a great script when he saw it. He said that after he read it, he would always come away saying, “My God, that’s me!”
More from Barry Morrow on Thursday.
Barry’s first book, Heaven Observed: Glimpses of Transcendence in Everyday Life, was published by NavPress in 2001. The book examines our desire and quest for meaning and happiness in this life, and examines the various avenues through which we attempt to find such fulfillment, such as our work and leisure. Occasionally Barry can be found exploring the haunts of C.S. Lewis and his Inklings companions when he can make his way to England.
LeAnne: You're a C. S. Lewis expert. What would Lewis say about the tendency of today's Christians to pull away from the culture into the safety of our own subculture?
Barry: I’m not so sure about being a “Lewis expert,” as you say, but unquestionably, he has greatly impacted my worldview and thinking on many subjects, including the Christian faith. I’m not sure what Lewis would make about this tendency of Christians to pull away from culture at large, other than that it is dreadful state of affairs.
In many ways, it is a form of Gnosticism, a philosophy the early church faced, a system of thought which gave preeminence to the “spiritual” over the “physical,” creating a dualism that is entirely unbiblical, and also denies the Incarnation—God becoming flesh (John 1). But there seems to have always been this tendency for Christians to either become assimilated into the prevailing culture or for them to develop their own subculture.
Lewis’ early comments in the Preface to Mere Christianity, where he defines what the term “Christian” means, is instructive as to the disastrous effects of withdrawing from the world. While the word “Christian” means “one who accepts the common doctrines of Christianity,” more often than not it has become reduced to an adjective, instead of a noun. He points out that while the word “gentleman” has faced a similar fate, as it originally meant one who had a coat of arms and some landed property (stating a fact about him), now it has been reduced to paying someone a compliment if we call him a “gentleman.” In an earlier time, there was no contradiction in saying John was a liar and a gentleman, Lewis says. His point is that “gentleman” has now become a useless word, and the same could be said of the way people use the term “Christian” in an adjectival sense rather than using it as it should be used, as a noun. Walker Percy once mused that the word “love” no longer has meaning in our culture, and I think the same is true of the word “Christian.” It has become nonsensical, void of any true meaning. Today, we have “Christian” yellow pages, ”Christian” bookstores, “Christian” conferences, “Christian” music, etc. And sad to say, the Christian label is often synonymous with mediocrity. It is symptomatic of our retreat from the world.
LM: How can Christians be in the culture but not of it?
BM: There is no easy answer to this question. The apostle Paul clearly had issues with Christians in the first century, particularly Corinth, in this regard. They thought they were to avoid all “immoral people” and misunderstood his comments to be about all people (1 Corinthians 5).Yet he reminds them that to avoid all immoral people, they would literally have to leave the world, and that he was actually referring to people leading immoral lives who called themselves Christians.
I’ve often used the phrase that we are to be “socially linked” or engaged, but “spiritually distinct” from this temporal age, which, as Paul reminds us, is passing away (1 Corinthians 7). And I think our Lord gives us the supreme example, as we see in the Gospels, of how He lived out His life in this fashion. The passage in Matthew 5 of Levi’s call to discipleship comes to mind. Immediately after his decision to follow Jesus, he throws a banquet at his home for all his friends (great sinners, them all, for who else would befriend a tax-collector?), and guess who’s there? Jesus and His disciples. How many pastors today, or for that matter Christians, would show up at that kind of party? Most Christians are too busy with their “religious” affairs to cultivate relationships with those who are not Christians.
But there is also the need for fellowship, sound teaching from the Scriptures, and support from other Christians, the body of Christ, lest we become assimilated into the culture. If we are truly seeking to live the Christian life, it is always going to be lived in tension, isn’t it? To live between that which is temporal (chronos), and that which is eternal (kairos)? To remember, as Tony Campolo says in his great sermon, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!!”
LM: Why do we need art and artists?
BM: “Need” art and artists? If this were a purely utilitarian world, a mechanized universe where matter is all that has ever existed (the atheistic position), then we as humans would not need, not expect, art or artists. Art shows us, I think, the variegated Goodness of our Heavenly Father, who as James describes the situation, “Every good thing bestowed and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of all lights” (James 1:17). So I see art as part of the extraordinary goodness of God in our lives.
But on the human level, I would suggest that art, if it is well done and true to Reality, shows us what it means to truly be human. The great writers of the world, such as Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Dickens, and others, portray the human condition as it truly is, as humanity in need of redemption. This was one of the primary reasons that led Malcolm Muggeridge to belief late in life, as he came to see the Christian faith for what it truly is, a “sacred drama” in which we are each playing out our parts before an audience of One.
I remember the playwright Arthur Miller was once asked how he recognized a great script when he saw it. He said that after he read it, he would always come away saying, “My God, that’s me!”
More from Barry Morrow on Thursday.
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