I just got back from my first-ever trip to Europe. Following my wife’s capable, experienced itinerary—man, she kept us moving all day, every day—I spent over a week jamming all my senses with the art of the last millennium in the museums of London and Paris, seeing shows in London’s West End, and just soaking up the architecture and watching all the people. As we repeatedly crisscrossed these two amazing cities via their subway lines, I felt quite humble and even envious, I admit—our only city that even comes close is New York. More than ever, it’s clear to me that the world does not revolve around America, as much as we’d sometimes like to think it does.
As I absorbed all this culture and humanity, some questions started to formulate. (And I’m back only two days, so they’re still germinating.) I wonder if human art and culture are in many ways attempted replacements for God, the Holy Spirit, etc. We are lost and lonely on this earth, and it’s easier to find solace and justification in each other than to seek out God. In some ways, I wonder if creating and absorbing art is similar to relying upon the arm of flesh.
Yeah, maybe God inspires some forms of art sometimes, but usually it’s just our own creativity. Yeah, he gives us talents, but humans mostly use them in mortal, worldly ways that I can’t imagine pleasing God much. For many of us, the most compelling art dramatizes human reality more than godly ideals; it highlights the problems of the human condition rather than solves them. Personally, I’m far more often moved by worldly art than by anything I hear repeated for the hundredth time through church channels, and I think art that sets out to affirm the gospel becomes propaganda, not art. By my definition, real art celebrates and commiserates with humanity, not godliness. Art is human, and most of it is probably more carnal and fallen than otherwise—even religious art of the type found in places like Westminster Abbey, where we attended evensong. In my Mormon-centric view, all that great organ music and singing and sculpture and architecture is really just trying to compensate for the lack of the gift of the Holy Ghost. (However, I was still moved by the sheer human effort and accomplishment of it all.)
So I ask myself, why do I even want a “real” Mormon culture, in my case mostly focusing on LDS-themed literature that emulates the best of the humanities? Maybe I’m not spiritual enough to be satisfied on a day-to-day basis through Mormonism’s claimed spiritual gifts, yet I believe in Mormonism and want to stay tapped into it, so in my mind if you can combine the best of worldly art with Mormonism, it’s win-win. Maybe I think that adding Mormon elements to human stories can make them more worthwhile and uplifting in some way, redeem the fallen, carnal elements. But maybe all this is just wishful thinking? Maybe it would be better to let worldly art be worldly art and let Mormonism be Mormonism, without trying to conflate the two. And maybe the very best Mormons are those who don’t need a steady diet of worldly/human art like I do, because they have a steady diet of the gift of the Holy Ghost. I have that gift too, but I don’t consciously feel it very often at all. Maybe that’s because my mind is always clouded by too much worldly music, literature, etc.? Maybe those of us who want a “real” Mormon culture are guilty of saying, in effect, “Let us do that which has been done in other cultures.”
It’s similar to friendship. When I didn’t have the church/gospel, my friendships seemed so close and powerful because they were the only thing I had. But since I’ve become a practicing Mormon, friendships don’t seem as close because a Mormon’s primary friend is Jesus, so we all rely on Jesus rather than each other, except as Jesus helps us through each other. Our relationships with each other are as fellow travelers on the pathway back to god, not as people who are totally looking to each other for support and salvation, as is the case for the irreligious. In a similar way, if a Mormon is properly focused and converted, he or she shouldn’t need art the way we more worldly people do. Yeah, that kind of Mormon can certainly enjoy some of the purest, most “appropriate” art, especially music from classical times—but it’s just icing on the cake of their spiritual journey, not the cake itself. (An aside: I bet Heavenly Father doesn’t think much of a guy like Shakespeare. While old Wm. can certainly tap into our emotions of what it means to be human, I doubt he inspires the workings of the Holy Ghost in our minds, except maybe triggering us to figure out how NOT to fall into the human ways he dramatizes. On the other hand, I guess he portrays some heroes that we would do well to emulate as well…)
I’m sure there are gaping holes of logical fallacies and unwarranted assumptions in what I’m trying to articulate, and perhaps I’m not even making much sense (the jet lag was worse going than returning, but maybe I’m still suffering some residual effects). So challenge me. Help me try to figure this out from a Mormon perspective. Is art mostly a fallen human activity that amounts to a replacement for really living the gospel and getting closer to God, or is it actually an essential part of that process? Think of all the time that creating and absorbing art takes away from home teaching, serving others, reading scriptures, rearing children, etc. Is art a distraction from—or a counterfeit of—the process of learning to become like God, or can it be somehow part of our rehearsal?
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Okay, Chris, I’ll tackle it. Aside from the idea that part of the reason we’re here is to learn to be the ultimate creators someday–and that the creative impulse we all feel is a divine one, I believe–I want to address your assertion that since “real art celebrates and commiserates with humanity, not godliness,” it is somehow disconnected from what God wants us to be doing while we’re here.
We’re all familiar with Matthew 22, where we’re told that the first great commandment is to love God and the second is to love our neighbor. It is on *both* of these commandments that everything hangs. And I think that great art–art that brings us out of our selfishness, helps us understand and love our fellow brothers and sisters better–is doing some of God’s greatest work.
I think all sorts of artistic expression accomplishes this, too, not just stories about human beings. Great architecture, beautiful gardens, excellent cooking–all of it celebrates humanity in a way that makes me feel connected to the world, and in feeling more connected, I feel more full of charity. I feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself.
But your post has given me a lot to think about, Chris. Although I do believe that art is one way that God helps us connect to one another, it is possible that in focusing on that second great commandment, it’s easier to forget the first.
I agree with this, Angela, and hope it is more often the case than my cynicism about human nature usually allows me to imagine.
At the same time, speaking of humanity in general, I imagine that most achievements in these areas feed the human ego more than bring human egos closer to God. “Look what we can do—who needs God.”
As with so many other things, it’s always a two-sided coin… Maybe one reason Mormonism hasn’t spawned much “real” art is because of these very dangers of ego and pride that so easily beset the artist and his or her worshippers. (Indeed, some of our best Mormon artists have flamed out that way, of course.)
As with so many other things, it’s always a two-sided coin…
Rather than a two-sided coin, I see it more as another one of these tensions, where it’s neither one or the other. I think the challenge is to be able to figure out how to use art as a vehicle for the Spirit — to let it be an instrument, to have the artist be an instrument. Sometimes art and music can reach the soul in different ways than words.
And in a very real sense, words are no different. They can be used to worship self or to seek to turn self and others to God.
I think this article is very relevant to this post. I’d be interested in your thoughts on it as well.
As an LDS person and as a professional art historian, I think that you’re missing some key elements in understanding what you saw in Europe.
“In my Mormon-centric view, all that great organ music and singing and sculpture and architecture is really just trying to compensate for the lack of the gift of the Holy Ghost.”
Artists of the Middle Ages and Renaissance were not “just trying to compensate for the lack of the gift of the Holy Ghost”, they were expressing their own society’s understanding of God and holy things. You don’t acknowledge that art played a tremendous role in Catholic liturgy and spirituality. They weren’t trying to compensate for anything. Their art was an expression of their understanding.
Well, I think it’s all about empathy. Art (and to me art and creativity are SO much bigger than what I hang on my wall) is a way for us to learn how to understand ourselves and others. And that striving to understand and love one another is at the core of the gospel, in my opinion. So, if art is a lackluster way to understand God, it’s a fantastic way to understand one another and that absolutely justifies the endeavor.
Nancy R, I totally agree with your post! I have a master’s degree in organ performance. A study of the organ and its literature is in many ways a study of religious musical history from the middle ages and beyond. Personally, I think that while the gift of the Holy Ghost may have been missing in those times, people were still influenced by the spirit. I think that music and art were actually one of the few ways that people in those times could express or experience the divine. Sacred music from these periods is often fascinating and complex in the way that composers used symbolism in the music to express their understanding of religious beliefs. Bach was the absolute master of this, but other composers used these techniques as well.
I don’t have time at the moment to get into this more deeply, and I’d definitely have to think on other aspects of the question. I don’t agree with you much at all, but I’d need time to be articulate why.
OK, I’ll bite. I’m sure my thoughts will be disjointed, but here they are:
Since humanity is the path to godliness is that such a bad thing? We are human; we can only create what we know. For me the real purpose of art and literature is to tell the truth–whatever that is for us. As Maralise said, doing so will hopefully create empathy.
I loved the defense of fiction found in Reading Lolita in Tehran. Perhaps it could be a good defense of art as well.
That said, it is much easier to apply my perspective to the classics than some of what is called “art” today. I am aware of much that is distasteful and offensive. So I am probably selective about what I would defend.
I rely intensely on my friends. I believe we are meant to be connected with humanity and that it does bring us closer to Jesus. I also believe these connections will be eternal in nature.
Truth and beauty is highlighted to me through what I believe is the spirit whether I am reading Shakespeare (who, you will find, has even been quoted in General Conference), looking upon a sculpture by Rodin or hearing one of Bach’s cantatas.
Finally, I support the pursuit of excellent and honest Mormon literature. I want to read about Mormons who struggle because I struggle and because being more aware of others helps me have compassion for those whose struggles are different than my own.
Compassion and empathy are God-like qualities that can bring us closer to God as well as to humanity. I think humanity is definitely a stop along the path to God.
I was formulating a response in the back of my head, while anticipating that others would do a far more eloquent job–which they have.
Then, last night, I was working on a story. My son read over my shoulder and objected to some of the choices I’d made.
“I’m God,” I instantly replied. “I can do whatever I want to them.”
So, yeah, maybe pride’s a tiny bit of an issue for me after all….
Art is supposed to imitate life. Mortal life is what we know. We can’t portray Godliness because it is not part of daily experience. What is part of our daily experience is suffering, sorrow, and other forms evil. So by portraying those things art teaches us what the consequences of evil are. There are more depictions of evil in the scriptures than there depictions of the saintly life.
No, art is not relying on the arm of the flesh unless one makes an artist or his/her work into god and it becomes more important than the serving the true one true God. The it becomes idolatry.
Art itself is neutral. It is how we perceive it and what we use it for that makes it what it is. Not everyone will experience it in the same way.
Ok, maybe I’m being a little difficult here, but I don’t believe that art is supposed to imitate anything. Sure, sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. It would be hard to argue that abstract art is imitating life. Sorry, the art historian in me just needs to make this point.
These are great responses to a post that I knew was pretty off the cuff and ill defined when I submitted it. I don’t think I’ve read a single comment here that I disagree with or that I can’t assimilate into my own thinking.
I wonder why, when I give free reign to my gut-level reactions about “art,” I’m so cynical, at least this week… I think that some cynicism is justified, but I can also see the benefit of looking at humankind’s artistic endeavors with more charity and empathy, on the philosophical level.
Maybe deep down I’m questioning my own over-emphasis on love of art in all its many forms, in contrast with my comparatively weak enthusiasm about religion… On my full-time mission, I went through terrible withdrawals for music, literature, and cinema and in fact often illicitly turned back to those art forms because the religious life alone didn’t cut it for me. And I still feel that I’m too subject to the power of “art,” almost to an addicted degree. Sometimes I wonder at what spiritual cost, since producing and consuming art so often displace other pursuits.
I’m sure art can be both a help and a hindrance to our spiritual growth in so many different ways and circumstances.
Chris, I think I understand in a way what you’ve said in your last response. As an organist, I’ve struggled at times with what kind of music is “allowed” in our worship, particularly the emphasis on extremely simple (as in hymns-only). There are certain Church leaders who have spoken out very strongly on this topic, and I’ve had a difficult time reconciling their counsel with my own taste, even though I think I now understand and accept their reasoning–and submit to it when I am playing in Church settings. If I had to choose music that would touch me spiritually and bring me closer to God, it often would not be the hymns (though those move me too), but it would be the great works of the masters. Listening to a Bach prelude and fugue makes me feel closer to God than singing “Because I Have Been Given Much” for the millionth time, for sure! And yet I have heard Bach specifically mentioned as a composer whose music is not appropriate for sacrament meeting.
I agree with your statement that “art can be both a help and a hindrance to our spiritual growth…”
Nancy R. I know abstract art is supposed to represent itself. I recently read something that is credited to Picasso where he said he starts out with real life and begins taking elements away. So it is pretty hard to get away from what is.
I was thinking about other forms of art besides visual ones. Music is one mentioned here. That would be composing rather than playing, although instrument repairmen are definitely artists. Literature is certainly an art form. Since all writers are advised to write what they know that would indicate an imitation or perhaps a representation of life.
I know J Ruben Clark didn’t want Bach used in church because of Bach’s Lutheran background. But, A Mighty Fortress is one where the words are by Luther himself and the music sounds a lot like Bach. O Savior Thou That Wearest. . . has music that is also part of the St. Mathew Passion by Bach. They are both in the hymn book.
I believe Elder Packer has made comments about avoiding Bach. The hymns aren’t the issue, it’s the preludes and fugues used as postlude. In our culture they are “concert music”, but in reality they are sacred music written for sacred settings. However, it is also true that sometimes things written for one setting don’t work in another setting, and I think that is true for this music–not just because it’s Lutheran. You have to understand the context of the work to feel the spirit that it brings, and most member of our congregations wouldn’t, so it wouldn’t be the same sacred experience for them that it would be for me. I know that is why the hymns-only movement has been so strong. And, I do agree with that. I think it’s an important compromise. Otherwise, I’d be stuck listening to Mormon pop in sacrament meeting, which would totally destroy the spirit for me.
However, there is definitely a conflict for me between the music I hear in church, which “should” be the ultimate in invoking a sacred experience for me, and the music I’ve studied, which I don’t hear in church, but which does provide for me the profound experiences that touch me most deeply and help me feel closer to God. The music I hear in my ward does nothing for me spiritually. Hymns can move me deeply, but that tends to happen mainly in general conference and not through listening to my ward organist or ward choir stumble through them. Even if I am feeling compassionate and empathetic toward the ward organist or choir director who are truly giving the Widow’s Mite and serving in callings that they might not choose for themselves, it’s still almost impossible for me to just enjoy the music enough to feel the spirit through it.
I hope this isn’t too much of a threadjack!
Creating makes me feel closer to God.
I let go of my earthly worries, I put out my fears and just lose myself to the process. My brain never stops working; it’s almost like a cacophony of everything. However, when I am concentrating on creating a piece of artwork I can let go of the static that surrounds me. My creative process is my way of meditating. The world becomes silent and I can hear inspiration more clearly.
And for what it’s worth, I love abstract art so much it hurts.
Thank you for your honest thoughts. I too will take your challenge. As a Latter Day Saint artist myself I believe that creating art is as simple as using the talents God has given us (in truth a commandment). In my opinion being human, and creating things via the “flesh” can’t be immoral when we are created by a loving God who is the greatest supporter of humanity (he knows our greatest potential better than anyone else). Of course what we do with our God given talents and inspirations will then speak for us in this life and in the next. I don’t believe that for art to be Godly we need to always outwardly cover “Mormon” topics because I believe things of a human nature are also things of God. To me there is no disconnection. I do however feel that the best art touches on something eternal and reveals truth, truth that we know us as Latter Day Saints and truth that is therefore universal to all humankind. Art can be glorious and transformative. Of course it can also be used to injure, insult, or breakdown the spirit. I believe that artists will be held accountable for this. If art becomes a God in and of itself, a priority over the true and loving God in heaven, again, accountability will follow. Really the choice, like so many things in this earth life, is up to us.