Northlanders Go to the Big City

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Looking at Creation

Here’s a passage from Christianity Today by Alan Jacobs that reminded me of Jeremy Begbie's presentation. It's from a review of the work of visual artist Gregory Blackstock:

"…Blackstock's drawings are a pleasant and instructive reminder of a time when the artist had to record the world because there was no other way to document its beauties. Such illustrations may not approach the depth and subtlety of truly "fine" art, but they represent a wonderful union of what the poet W. H. Auden, in an essay on "The Poet and the City," calls the "gratuitous" and the "utile." Auden reminds us that there was once a time when all the arts had a dimension of usefulness: poetry aided the memory, even on as humble a level as "Thirty days hath September," and we should never forget the sheer and astonishing craftsmanship that enabled Bach to crank out all those cantatas, which were invariably useful to the church and as a bonus contain more beauty than seems possible.

As Auden also notes, art has now lost that habit of usefulness and does not seem likely to get it back: when we try to unite the useful and the beautiful, he says, we "fail utterly." It's difficult to imagine a new Piranesi, or an Audubon for the 21st century. We have turned over the task of documenting the world to the various cameras, and for good reason: they perform the task well. But I hope we may occasionally find more Gregory Blackstocks, artists who — unaware that their labors of documentary love are unnecessary — plunge ahead and do their work, thereby reminding us what it means to look, really to look, at the Creation."

Monday, March 12, 2007

The Shock of the New

I found it nearly impossible to take notes while Jeremy Begbie was speaking. At times it was better to close my eyes and lean back, letting the power of his thinking to wash over me, wave-like, expecting it to change me in a ways I could not understand at that moment. Other times I was able to grab a line and put it down, knowing it would act as a rudder for me, probably for the rest of my life.

Professor Begbie struck me on three levels. First, he was earthy – witty, wry, charismatic and personable. Humble too. On the three occasions I spoke with him he insisted that I e-mail ‘with any thoughts or suggestions.’

Secondly, he is clearly a genius. He treated his audience not to a show of knowledge, rather he allowed us to move in his same plane of intellect and understanding, even though I didn’t ‘understand’ at all. His talks reminded me of my French teachers, both of whom were Parisian. I was only 12 but instead of the verb repetition American students would have learned, I was existing in a world of rapid fire French and it was expected that I would learn not words, but language. We, the audience, can understand Jeremy Begbie because he expects us to; to him we are peers.

Finally, he was not just a theologian, but a believer-artist, moved by the spirit, both in his thinking, his speaking and his art. Punctuating his points he used his expertise as a classical pianist, playing Rachmaninoff, Bach or the theme to Psycho and the Simpsons.

In his first keynote, The Shock of the New, he spoke on the avant-garde spirit, calling artists to be agents of the new. He showed works of avant-garde art describing these artists as not just people who lived on the edge or desired to be cutting edge but as people who truly desired to be born again. Can you imagine thinking of avant-garde artists in this way? But to hear Begbie talk about it, it made perfect sense. The avant-garde desires to go ahead, to change culture; it may be that they deeply believe that humans have it in themselves to create anew. Fantastic.

He spoke of ‘the grid’, something that architect Daniel Libeskind spoke of always working against ‘the tyranny of the grid!’ The grid is not found in nature, and yet it became the avant-garde basis of art for much of the 20th century. I don’t know why I loved that, but I did. I loved hearing about the tyranny of the grid.

Another moment I dearly loved was when he spoke of the Babylonian exile and how the children of Israel must have felt that it would be that way forever – Babylon would always have the power, the money, and the authority over them. And in this time of inflated housing prices and lowered incomes, it is easy for me to forget that He is in charge of ‘the grid’. The Lord has the power over every authority and it will be His way forever, and ‘this’ way only for however long He deems it so.

To this kind of despair Begbie reminded me to trust, "Trust that Beauty has a future."

What did he say that you can remember? That you received? Are there thoughts you have processed? What was meaningful to you? Remind us & let it inspire us.

---aliceb

The Shape of the New

In Jeremy Begbie’s second and final keynote, he took a position on what we, the believer-artist, should be about. He spoke of Order and Disorder; the two ways we have traditionally viewed the world. Order (in the old world) was good and now, Disorder (in the post-modern world) is good. But Jeremy proposed Non-order.

I can feel the ahhhhh even as I write it. Non-order. It combines the best of Order and Disorder. Order is too often rigid and Disorder is too often destructive. But Non-order has Regularity and Openness. He sited Jazz as Non-Order. And better still – laughter. Laughter is a surprise, a delight to the laugher, and yet it comes from often, a series of regularly ordered events, prescribed almost. We can tell what will make an audience laugh. We can ‘set them up’ to laugh. And yet, in order for the audience to laugh, we must have openness. A space for surprise, for movement, and we ourselves must be open to the laugh, wherever it comes. (As you can see this meant a lot to me, since Non-order laughter is basically my vocation in my audience analysis world.)

He spent a good portion of his talk on bi-tonality or in non-musical terms bringing two disparate elements together. This is the work (or craft, I would say) of the artist. He imagined the authors of Revelation and Isaiah as Fantasy authors like Tolkien & Lewis, creating worlds of ‘zoological madness’ where lions lie down with lambs. He challenged us to let our minds be subtle enough to be in conversation with incompatibility. “Artists are connoisseurs of misalliance”, he proclaimed.

Then he hit us with what was for me the most potent idea of them all. I’ve never been a fan of the term Madeleine L’Engle uses in Walking On Water ‘co-creators’ with God, in reference to our state as ‘in His image’ creatives. ‘Co-creators’ feels to me like we are putting ourselves on His plane, raising ourselves up to His level. And we know equality with God is not something to be grasped, that even Christ Himself did not grasp for that.

Begbie gave us a new vision, and a new term to go along with it: re-creator. We are re-creators. We live in the light between Good Friday and Easter, in which Christ re-compositioned his Body; actually re-created Himself. Begbie said that often as the believer-artist, we are grasping prematurely for the New Jerusalem. But we live in the ‘tri-tone overlap’ for you classical pianist-theologian-apologist-Brit-genius-guys. For the rest of us though he may have meant we live in the in between. In between Easter and the New Jerusalem. We do not create ex nihilio, from nothing; we use the matter God has given us. Even in this conference we were challenged again and again to be inspired by the greats who have gone before us, to incorporate their work into our thinking that we may express it in our art. And so we do not ‘create’ as God did and does. Nor are we co-creators, knowing His mind and creating in a ‘co’ position to Him. We are re-creators. Using our knowledge, skill, talent (all given by God) and the materials around us (again given) and we re-use those things, again and again to re-create them into art.

In the interview afterwards, Jeremy addressed how he does all this, all these different things as well as being a husband and father. He quoted Mary Ellen Ashcroft, “Dare to be Adequate.” Later when Vernon spoke with him, Jeremy humbly said, “You know, I have a staff, a research staff.” Of course this is all true and good advice – dare to be adequate and get some good people around you. I was more struck by the advice he gave in the post interview, possibly to investors as well as to artists. He said that artists need time as well as money; time to indwell the classics without instantly knowing where it is going to lead you.

Once again, an admonition to take in the works of the greats, the works of others, in order to bring forth your own creative work. Re-creators.

These keynotes, along with Mako's talk on 'Being a child of the Creative Age' and Daniel Libeskind's interview were, to use a favorite Disney word, the most 'impactful' to me. I wonder how Begbie's keynotes struck the rest of you...
aliceb

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Reason 1 (collect them all)

Loyd B: I've been mulling over what to say when someone asks "Why art? What's the big deal?" Some people totally get it right away, others wouldn't understand if Michelangelo himself re-created the Sistine Chapel ceiling in their dining room.

Weirdly enough, this line of thought reminded me of a lyric to an early 20th-century protest song.

In 1911, Lawrence, Massachusetts, was the largest textile-producing region in the nation. Company bosses got angry when a state law forced them to reduce the work week for women and children from -- get this -- 56 to 54 hours. The bosses retaliated by increasing the work load, but not the wages, cranking up the machines faster than before. The workers responded with a massive strike. Over twenty thousand men, women and children won concessions by staging a ten-week walk-out, at great expense to themselves and their families. A song was inspired by a strike banner the women carried proclaiming "We want bread and roses too."

As we come marching marching,
in the beauty of the day
A million darkened kitchens,
a thousand mill-lofts gray
Are touched by all the radiance
that a sudden sun discloses
For the people hear us singing
Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses


And later in the song:

Our lives shall not be sweated
from birth until life closes
Hearts starve as well as bodies,
give us bread but give us roses!


The song was written as a demand for a quality of life beyond the hand-to-mouth existence of the average worker.

It struck me that even a secular humanist protest song, with no overt mention of "spiritual" things, recognized the crucial need for beauty. That beauty keeps us alive in spirit as food keeps us physically alive. The fact that so many people don't even recognize or appreciate a need for true beauty in their lives -- often poorly replaced with adrenaline-pumped, eye-gouging visuals, vulgar humor, cheap amusement and Pavlovian horror-movie shocks -- just shows how far we've fallen.

As Christians, we are called to offer blessings of food, shelter, time and comfort to others, in response to Jesus' love for us. Can we do no less than offer art and beauty, wonder and awe, to bring a stone heart to life?

Hearts starve as well as bodies. It's an artist's task to feed the hearts of men and women hungry for the beauty of God.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

Good Times -- Right on.

It is wonderful to re-cap the sessions and the workshops. It gives me time to rethink and remember and re-incorporate the ideas given to us.

But it would also be great to share the in between stories. The people you met. The sessions you skipped to visit Houston Street or Mid-town. There's value in recounting those stories too. It gives us a holistic view of how we processed this time together, and what made it valuable to each of us.

I know that the time Tlee and I spent rushing back and forth from Maribel's chocolate salon to make it just in time for our tours, to trudging up and down Prince and Houston desperately seeking shopping in the icy rain, is among my most treasured time. So don't be afraid to add those moments. Broadway shows. Meals and restaurants. Your first slice of NY Pizza. A trip to an art gallery. We want it all.
- ab

Friday Morning

Our first full day of conference began with a meditation by Matt Heard. Again, I confess to being less than present but I remember Matt using Authenticity and Hope. Loyd, I think you mentioned how Matt’s talk impressed you, perhaps you or someone else can post on that meditation.

The second event was the Vignette by Jerry and Gloria Jean Pinkney. Jerry is a Caldecott Award winning children’s illustrator and he shared his creative process with us, not only by describing it but by showing slides from drawing to finished work. For me this was one of the most inspirational and worshipful times there. Just being invited into Jerry and Gloria’s process was so enriching. I felt affirmed and challenged in my own process.

One of the striking things Jerry said was that to ‘find the doorway into the picture’ he searched the images in his mind, images by other painters, to find what his inspiration was. He shared some of those artworks and photographs with us and led us from there into his sketch and his final watercolor. I was challenged to remember that I don’t create from nothing, rather I must draw from what exists around me. He mentioned surrounding himself with the inspiring works and not using models but rather inhabiting the characters to bring forth the tension in the scene. The question he asks himself is “What will guide the reader into the climax of the story?

To see the wonderful images from The Old African while his wife sang, “Wade in the Water” seemed so fitting. It’s what I felt like I was doing – wading in the water, ready for immersion.

The second Vignette was Susie Ibarra and Mako Fujimara. I loved the sound of the water spraying on the paper combined with the brass drums. Mako took off his shoes, for what I’m sure was practical reasons, but I was inspired to think of art making as holy ground. And many times throughout the conference Mako challenged us to be under the authority of God while we create and I think he would consider this analogy true.

I felt that Susie and Mako cut their time short in order to make up lost time from the late start. I wondered if Mako was feeling the pressure of both artist and producer (of the event) and the desire to give our coveted keynoter Daniel Libeskind all the time he needed. I sensed this, as someone who works with audiences and has make the weather, the time, the next act, how they are responding, what their needs are much more of a priority than my offering as an artist. I wish we could have been in a space and time where Mako and Susie could have been fully given over to their art. Nonetheless I was moved by Mako’s use of ground precious minerals and so privileged to get a glimpse into his and Susie’s work.

Dynamics of Cultural Change

I attended two sessions by William Edgar, Professor of Apologetics at Westminster (and a jazz pianist to boot). You can read more about him at http://www.wts.edu/faculty/faculty-htstudies.html

This session was a study in cultural change and the way in which apologetics helps decide where to engage, and where to oppose the prevailing culture.

Edgar began by saying that Jesus always kept people a bit off-balance; His method was not to do the same, predictable thing all of the time. He quotes a portion of John Donne's Elegy III (subtitled "Change"):

To love not any one, nor every one.
To live in one land is captivity,
To run all countries a wild roguery.
(Edgar said, 'a wild roguery' is the result of too much change)
Waters stink soon, if in one place they bide,
And in the vast sea are more putrified ;
But when they kiss one bank, and leaving this
Never look back, but the next bank do kiss,
Then are they purest; change is the nursery
Of music, joy, life and eternity.


Method and Content must be inseperable.

The modern word for culture is a result of the ancient word cultivation, including elements of colonization as well. Adding the root word for worship to "cultivation" results in the modern word "cult."

Catastrophic events often change the thinking and direction of a culture, even when the event has been over for awhile. He cited France's "Great Bereavement" in which its population only grew 3% between World Wars I and II, at the same time other countries were growing in double-digits.

What are we looking for in a culture? Edgar mentioned that he always has a problem with church bulletins (or Christian TV channels) that have pictures of nature overlayed with scripture, as if God doesn't exist in a city. It made me appreciate the photos that were used on-stage throughout the IAM conference, mostly urban, some abstract, but still beautiful. He cited Romans 12 about practicing the Lordship of Christ in an inhospitable culture. What are we looking for? A city; a New Jerusalem; a city with gardens as a picture of Heaven.

Edgar called for "gritty prayer," prayer that opens eyes (including ours), makes change in society, and creates "agents and networks" as instruments of cultural change. 1 Peter 4:7 "But the end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer."

We are being prepared for the "Esther moment" Esther 4:14 "And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"

Loyd B.

Friday, March 2, 2007

History of Faces

Roberta Ahmanson took the last session of the first night, following the panel discussion with Mako, Gordon and Joshua Trent. In our schedule she was to speak on “Christianity and World Culture Origins.”

I admit that the long day, and the lack of dinner wore me down and I was feeling a bit groggy. I kept listening for when she would speak on her topic. Instead she led us through an amazing journey through the history of man, as told by the portraits he paints.

One of the surprising things revealed by Mrs. Ahmanson was that starting with Whistler in the 1800’s the painter’s work became more important than the subject. When you look back at portraits you can see that it is true – who the Mona Lisa is, is far more important to DaVinci than the painter’s technique. It was particularly interesting to hear a perspective on art not from an artist, but from a philanthropist and supporter of the arts. I found an interesting set of articles on the Ahmansons at the Orange County Register.

I know I didn’t get enough out of this because I was thrown off from lack of food and diminished focus. But I did leave there feeling amazed, even though I wasn’t sure why. Would one of you that remembers the spiritual connection she made from portrait to ‘in the image of God’ please remind us of the spiritual impact she left with you?

Alice B.

Human Flourishing and the Arts

My notes and comments from the workshop: "Shape of Things to Come: Human Flourishing and the Arts, presented by David Mahan Ph.D., and Greg Ganssle Ph.D. from the Rivendell Institute (Yale), a think tank/ministry of Campus Crusade for Christ.

Overview: We examined poems and paintings to "unpack" the messages inherent in their style and cultural assumptions. Most of our time was spent with a portion of Geoffrey Hill's poem "The Triumph of Love," Michael O'Siadhail's "Summons," and Édouard Manet's painting "The Dead Christ and the Angels."

Greg Ganssle (the only person I have ever heard describe himself as "a phiosopher") began:

I. Human Flourshing as a category to be recovered.
Important questions: What sort of person ought I be? This question, which everyone answers either consciously or by default, connects with all other important questions in life.

In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis described the key to a successful convoy: 1. Each must run well; 2. The ships must not bump into one another; and 3. The Ships must get to their intended destination. Ganssle contends that modern thought is only concerned with the second part.

Why Human Flourishing was lost:

A. Decartes (1596-1650) sought phiosophical grounding for the "mechanistic" science of nature.
B. Isaac Newton (1642-1727) represented the height of this "physical mechanisim" thinking.
C. David Hume (1711-1776) applied this mechanistic theory to the human mind.

II. Characteristics of a fruitful approach to Human Flourishing

Walker Percy: the novelist as pathologist. We cannot diagnose a body without knowing what a body is supposed to be like -- so too with the Spirit. Walker Percy was a Catholic novelist who began as a doctor (he wrote The Moviegoer and The Second Coming among others). To diagnose a body, you must:

-- Begin with the hunch that something is wrong.
-- Find and name the malady.

To diagnose a spiritual problem:

-- Lots of 'book work.'
-- Careful thinking about what it means to be human.
-- Examine the parameters for views of human flourishing.

What is means to "flourish" depends on what reality is like.

-- What is it to be a human being?
-- Is there any moral reality and what is it like?
-- How is moral reality connected to human nature?
-- How is it connected to what is best for us?
-- Is there a function or a purpose to human life, aspirations and relationships?
-- What are God's purposes for human beings?
-- If God is not real, how ought we think about the human?

Reality-orientation is truth-orientation (No 'devaluation' of truth).

The human person is thought to be a biological, cultural, and psychological being, but we can't be reductionistic about human nature. If this is true, evenything is reduced to a biological, cultural, or psychological component (ignoring the spiritual).

In this kind of culture, without a moral component, the only major human hurdle is self-doubt. No wonder Oprah-spirituality is so popular. The triumph of pop psychology is the "taming" of good and evil; all that is left is bare preference and sentimentality (insufficient for a truly flourishing human life).

III. Human Flourishing and the Artist

-- The artist is to be a diagnostician.
-- Art does not argue or explain. It points, suggests, or hints at a possibility.
-- It is a way of seeing and thus a way of seeing something.
-- Truth can be seen because an artist points.
-- The artist is also a signal (a 'canary in a coalmine')
-- There is "life" and there is "real life" ('life more abundant")
-- A way the world is and the way it should be.

Loyd B.

Thursday, March 1, 2007

Investing in the Arts

Alice has given us a great beginning in capturing the focus of the IAM conference in NYC. This might have been the largest group of Northlanders at an out of town event other than our Namibia crusade a few years ago.
This was a providentially appointed group. It included a range of ages and vocational pursuits – but we were united around the desire to understand...did God create us to be observers of beauty or to be actually involved in the formation of it. Does fine art art mean that we are left out...are we observers, are we creators?
I was thrilled with the team that went. A few of us went a day early – while Tim and Stephen took in mid-town, I met with a group of NYC pastors to discuss whether the church leadership belonged in the conversation as listeners, conveners, teachers or critics. Our conclusion? Maybe a bit of each.
I was struck by the willingness of Mako (who was part of our conversation) to see where this would go. He is truly one of the most gracious and brilliant men I have ever encountered. I went to the conference (and this conversation) with big questions. If the direction of IAM was to focus on the avant-garde artist (fine arts), then what does that mean for a local gathering that mostly uses popular culture art? The other pastors in this group work in small, urban settings. I work in a large, suburban setting. We agreed that we would try to get pastors and leaders to just talk about how to love artists and the work they do. More on that later.

On Thursday, Tim and I attended an “Investing in the Arts” luncheon. A lobbyist for the arts (did you know such an animal existed?) suggested we (how did we get invited here?) use the riskiest part of our portfolio to support the arts. It is a great idea and I have talked to several investors about it since. We sat with several investment bankers and Broadway producers. It was fascinating.

More later on the session content. And the exciting news of my seminars...you will be amazed at how much I know.
--
Vernon Rainwater

Random Moments of Grace

Loyd: Here's one anecdote from my experience at the IAM conference:

Rather than go out in the 20-degree wind whipping through the streets, Friday afternoon I decided to stay in the college cafeteria for lunch. It was over-crowded, and I was alone at a wobbly table with two chairs, a turkey sandwich and a Diet Coke. A young man, one of the students looking for a place to sit, came and sat across from me. After he had a chance to eat his lunch, I introduced myself. He said his name was John and he was from Ghana. He asked what I was doing in NYC and I told him about the arts conference. He struggled with the word "art" a little bit (he had a thick accent), and wanted me to clarify. When I told him that the conference was full of artists, he said with a very matter-of-fact tone "I don't believe in art."

Intrigued by that statement, I asked him what he meant, and he said, "I am into engineering. Mathematics." This led us into a discussion about how much mathematics is a part of art, from the math inherent in music (notation, time signatures, pitch as waveforms with specific frequencies), meter in poetry, to the actual number-crunching required to make computer graphics, digital photography, and animation. This seemed to pique his interest and got him excited. Then I told him how the conference was a gathering of artists who want to express faith and worship through their art. He said all he knew of "church" was evangelists robbing people of their money, even in Ghana.

I told him about a presentation I had attended that afternoon by Scott Harrison (founder of an organization called "Charity: Water"), who had once been a rebellious NYC upscale "party planner" with lots of rich friends. One day Harrison said that something inside him convinced him of how empty his life had become. His Christian upbringing, abandoned for years, came back to him, and he decided to turn his life around. Even though he wasn't qualified, through a miraculous series of events he wound up as a photographer on a "Mercy Ship," a "floating hospital" off the coast of Liberia, helping poverty-stricken people build wells in their villages for fresh water. I told John that Scott doesn't make a dime off of the charity, in fact, everyone on the Mercy Ship actually pays for food and lodging out of their own pockets.

John was clearly impressed by this selflessness (he said, "We have had many Liberian refugees in Ghana, and they are the poorest people on earth."). He was also impressed by the engineering skill it took to create a nearly indestructible well pump assembly with only one moving part, a vital part of the "Charity: Water" projects.

I asked John how he came to be at this particular college, and he said he had been picked by lottery to go, a privilege only given to a few students in Ghana. He said that even a former President of Ghana came to America the same way to study engineering. I pointed out that the hand of God might be in that bit of "luck" and he seemed to think quite hard about that. I asked him what he wanted to do next, and he said he would finish his training, work in America a few years, then return to Ghana and possibly enter politics.

As we said our goodbyes, I sat for awhile and marveled at how sharing a wobbly cafeteria table with a total stranger could possibly, God willing, open a door for faith in a potential leader of an African country.