Today I’m kicking off another new feature. Called “Five Minutes with...” these features will be shorter than normal and are meant to spark questions and provoke thought rather than provide lengthy answers. My first five-minute interview is with William Edgar, Professor and Coordinator of the Apologetics Department at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. He serves on several boards and is a Senior Fellow at the Trinity Forum, a speaker and advisor in the Veritas Forum programs, an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church in America, and more.
Professor William Edgar studied musicology at Harvard and Columbia. He has written about music and he plays in and manages a professional jazz band. “Music is part of my soul, and it’s been in our family for generations,” he says. “I cannot live without it. Plus, it is one of God’s best gifts.”
In Edgar’s essay, “Why is the Light Given to the Miserable?” in the excellent It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo Books), he asserts that Romantic composer, Johannes Brahms (1833-1897), was not afraid to address the problem of evil in his music. What might we learn from his courage in facing "the drama of human suffering with passion, but not always with clear answers"? “The same lessons as Job teaches us,” Edgar says. “We know God is good, but we don’t see how and why he allows evil. We know there will be final justice, but we don’t see how the chaos of the present world is fully in his control.”
Still, Edgar urges artists who follow Christ to avoid the extremes of pessimism and optimism and “forge a third way: hopeful realism.” He sees a big difference between joy and happiness. “My aesthetic is moving from deep misery to inextinguishable joy.”
Edgar, author of several books, wrote Taking Note of Music, which he calls “an attempt at a biblical theology of music. It asks where music comes from and what is its purpose.” He takes a “somewhat unusual approach of rooting music in the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:26 ff., and the role of Jubal. I explore such questions as the power of music and its place in the world.”
In addition to writing about his love of music Edgar, Apologetics Professor at Westminster Theological Seminary, has written an apologetics book, Reasons of the Heart. When asked how followers of Christ can share and defend their faith in a way that reaches the culture, he says, “I urge them to get over on to the ground of an unbeliever’s heart and world view in order to help him/her to see their inability to live successfully on their basis in God’s world. Culture is not a bridge, but the life we all live. To reach our culture is to reach humanity in the midst of its life.”
Showing posts with label It Was Good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label It Was Good. Show all posts
Thursday, January 15, 2009
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.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Stealing Art
Did you hear about the art theft on Monday at a small museum in Zurich? Three masked thieves with guns snatched four oil paintings by Cezanne, Degas, van Gogh and Monet. Read about it here. It’s easier to steal—or, for that matter, to destroy—than to create. I’m praying they don’t get away with it.
On Monday, I gave you a few sentences from Tim Keller’s essay in It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo Books). I promised to give the next sentence to complete Keller’s thought. Here it is:
“We need Christian artists because we are never going to reach the world without great Christian art to go with great Christian talk.”
Whether you consider yourself a Christian artist or an artist who happens to be a Christian, use your gift to the best of your ability. Do whatever you do with excellence, and don’t let anyone steal your desire to create.
Coming soon: a culture expert and more artists
On Monday, I gave you a few sentences from Tim Keller’s essay in It Was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo Books). I promised to give the next sentence to complete Keller’s thought. Here it is:
“We need Christian artists because we are never going to reach the world without great Christian art to go with great Christian talk.”
Whether you consider yourself a Christian artist or an artist who happens to be a Christian, use your gift to the best of your ability. Do whatever you do with excellence, and don’t let anyone steal your desire to create.
Coming soon: a culture expert and more artists
Monday, February 11, 2008
What I’m Reading
Alice Bass, an actor and creativity expert I featured last spring, tagged me with a book meme a couple of weeks ago. (Sorry, Alice, that I’m just now getting to it.) Here are the rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.
The nearest book on my desk is one I’m slowly savoring called It was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo Books). It’s a collection of essays edited by Ned Bustard, who I featured in December. Page 123 falls in the middle of a piece titled “Why We Need Artists” by Tim Keller, founding pastor of Manhattan’s Redeemer Presbyterian Church, known for its arts program.
So, here we go. Page 123, 5th sentence and then the next three:
“There is a sort of schizophrenia that occurs if you are listening to Bach and you hear the glory of God and yet your mind says there is no God and there is no meaning. You are committed to believing nothing means anything and yet the music comes in and takes you over with your imagination. When you listen to great music, you can’t believe life is meaningless. Your heart knows what your mind is denying.”
Keller’s next sentence explains why we need artists. You’ll have to wait until Thursday’s post for that one.
Now, for step #5, I’m tagging these people:
Crystal writes fiction and nonfiction with humor and warmth. I love her voice. She used to write book reviews, too, because she is a voracious reader. She will have a fun and interesting read, no doubt.
Byron from Hearts and Minds Books always has something wonderful on his desk. I hope he has time to do this.
With his book, Chandler Branch, Executive Director of Soli Deo Gloria, may continue the music theme of Keller’s quotation above, but maybe not.
Plus, two other gifted writers I know, both of whom have major projects on their desks right now: Towles and Colin.
So, what are you reading?
1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.
The nearest book on my desk is one I’m slowly savoring called It was Good: Making Art to the Glory of God (Square Halo Books). It’s a collection of essays edited by Ned Bustard, who I featured in December. Page 123 falls in the middle of a piece titled “Why We Need Artists” by Tim Keller, founding pastor of Manhattan’s Redeemer Presbyterian Church, known for its arts program.
So, here we go. Page 123, 5th sentence and then the next three:
“There is a sort of schizophrenia that occurs if you are listening to Bach and you hear the glory of God and yet your mind says there is no God and there is no meaning. You are committed to believing nothing means anything and yet the music comes in and takes you over with your imagination. When you listen to great music, you can’t believe life is meaningless. Your heart knows what your mind is denying.”
Keller’s next sentence explains why we need artists. You’ll have to wait until Thursday’s post for that one.
Now, for step #5, I’m tagging these people:
Crystal writes fiction and nonfiction with humor and warmth. I love her voice. She used to write book reviews, too, because she is a voracious reader. She will have a fun and interesting read, no doubt.
Byron from Hearts and Minds Books always has something wonderful on his desk. I hope he has time to do this.
With his book, Chandler Branch, Executive Director of Soli Deo Gloria, may continue the music theme of Keller’s quotation above, but maybe not.
Plus, two other gifted writers I know, both of whom have major projects on their desks right now: Towles and Colin.
So, what are you reading?
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