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How can an artist be prophetic?
Mirror, or window, or both
Painting Invisible Things
What a picture can do

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•Mirror, or window, or both.

Andrew Attwood
Aug 06

The now almost traditional mantra of what an artist does usually includes the idea of holding a mirror up to themselves or the world. The artist reflects. Self-expression is a commitment to sharing what is going on inside, or alternatively communicating their strong personal response to the world around them. Light falls on the artist and the artist bounces it back in various ways. And the world does need mirrors to help us see ourselves more clearly. But what about the possibility of being a window rather than just a mirror?

The place of stained glass windows in the history of faith and art is a fascinating example of how art images have positively communicated profound themes across the social classes and cultures. During phases of history where most people were illiterate, the messages of the faith community were often beautifully expressed through shimmering glass pictures. With Russian Orthodox art, we also see a perspective expressed in light and gold, with heavenly figures standing round about the earthly congregation. In their thinking this sense of heaven touching earth is wonderfully expressed in their icons, explicitly seen as windows into the invisible yet present reality of God's dimension.

A contemporary parallel for me in England today happens when I take Lindsey to the movies. When we sit in a cinema and the lights go down, we surrender our hearts and minds to the thrill of a crafted story writ large on a big, beautiful, glittering screen. Cinema is in my view a significant ‘icon-window' in the Western world. But what vision do people see through these particular windows? What quality of light hits us as we eat Minstrels and drink diet Coke?

In 1970, Hans Rookmaaker wrote about ‘Modern Art and the Death of a Culture' – where so much ethical emptiness and personal futility had become king in the world of contemporary art and artists. In his view many modern reflections on the human soul seemed hell-bent on revealing mostly desperation and selfishness. This “Me-philosophy” led to a spiral downwards and the longstanding trend is still keenly felt whenever you walk through the halls of many galleries and cinemas today. As an example, I ended up feeling quite depressed after my last day trip to the Tate Modern in London , despite being a sincere enthusiast for lots of contemporary art.

To those who are still committed to such a predominantly gloomy outlook, the following ideas presented here may well seem naïve or even sentimental, but I am very passionate about the matter. 2000 years ago, Paul of Tarsus wrote, “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.” This was a poetic call for ordinary men and women to dwell on things that would do them some good. In our present society where ethical absolutes have been not only questioned but also scorned, such aspirations may seem meaningless. But beyond the corridors of Academia, ordinary people do nevertheless crave something genuinely life-giving to inspire them.

In a survey carried out in 2005, the following ‘Big Questions' emerged as real things people of no religious affiliation wanted answers to:

Destiny: What happens when we die? Where, if anywhere, are we going?
Purpose: What is the point of my life? What values should I live by? Whose values and life might I take as an example to inspire me?
The universe: How did it start? Is it designed/planned/controlled in any way?
God: Does he/it exist? If so, what is he/it like? Is there a viable relationship to be had with God?
Spiritual realm: Is there a spiritual realm? What form does it take? Does it affect my life?
Suffering: Why is there so much in the world? What national/international issues concern me? What can be done?

Given this very genuine hunger for something solid and helpful, the implicit call for genuinely inspirational art is clear to me. Not a return to pretty pictures full of idealised propaganda, but authentic, strong, and truly beautiful work. Including, of course, work that deals with pain and darkness, but in a way that offers more than desperation. People and society could really benefit from things that raise hearts and minds to think of important and positive matters. It should not be inevitable that cynicism and hopelessness will win.

A shift in art history happened when abstraction emerged. It was an intentional move away from representational work, resisting the idea of art as merely a realistic window. Artists even stopped framing their work as a way of ending the ‘window-metaphor', and I too fully endorse this step away from merely representational art. However, the wider metaphor of the window is still a potent vehicle. In a world that is looking to see if there are invisible and helpful realities beyond the material, we need as many hopeful windows as possible. So in this sense it seems timely for Lindsey to present an exhibition entitled ‘Glimpses of heaven'.

In our day, we need artists to lift the latch and let some fresh air in. We need to create portals into other worlds, not to escape this world, but to allow another positive reality to invade it. The artistic soul can be a wonderful mirror, expressing so much of what makes us truly human. But an even higher aspiration is be both a mirror and a window, for we are more than reflectors, and there is more in and beyond this world than ourselves.

NT. Philippians 4:8

Croft S. et al (2005) Evangelism in a Spiritual Age London : Church House Publishing

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•Painting Invisible Things

Andrew Attwood
July 06

I love to take photos these days, and with digital cameras it is increasingly easy. Snap, save or delete. No waste, lots of memory space to experiment with, and with all the I.T. advances you can have good quality images with little technical skill. This is for sure one simple and exciting way of recording what we see, but of course it can only sample what the camera responds to, and there is much more to seeing than meets the lens, as all artists know. I can't take a photo of love. I can possibly capture a tender moment or two, but love is more than what meets the eye, even more than in a precisely composed photograph.

Most of the important parts of life are invisible things. They are the meaningful pauses between sentences, or the holding of a hand, or the sharing of a glance. We feel these elements deeply and they shape who we are and what we live for. An unexpected gesture or act of kindness, a kiss, or more negatively, the moment someone walks away from us. At such times of loss, something invisible is broken or torn. There may be no blood to see, but we can feel extremely sore.

This territory is where art functions, be it writing, visual art or dramatic theatre. Like Picasso famously drawing bulls in the air with a torch for time-lapse photography, artists paint strokes in the ether, where only spirits and angels move. This is the realm of thought and feeling, where identity and a sense of purpose is housed. It seems to be connected to the inner life of people, yet also hovering beyond us, especially when it touches on profound and large matters of value or principle.

We brought back a collection of holiday snaps from our trip to Menorca recently. Many shots were simply delightful family memories, splashing about in the pool or eating with friends. But some images have become the beginnings of a deeper sense of place and feeling. The heat and calm of a late evening on Son Bou beach, with most people gone home, staying in the intoxicating haze of the place as it continues to hold us still for longer. This sense of place is material for the artist to play with.

But would a stranger discern such meanings in the strokes of a seascape? Is it ever possible to communicate the invisible things without a tangible explanation? Most people couldn't say why, but certain well-known images and compositions carry enough of this invisible power to make many people say ‘yes'. This is more than mere technical skill or even compositional ability. It is to do with soul, passion and sensibility. These are intangible and hard-to-define things, but like a wise friend, art bridges us into contact with these invisible realities. What is amazing about such things is that they actually have more ‘real' weight than physical objects. Good paintings weigh more than canvas and wood. And my suggestion is that we all need to explore and become familiar with these invisible elements. Artists can take us there as visitors, but we need to become residents in this place without material substance, for this realm is where all the real action is. Look and see for yourself.

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•What a picture can do

Andrew Attwood
May 06

When I recently took some shots of Lindsey’s ‘Sacrifice’ painting, our six-year-old daughter Elizabeth kept getting in the way. She would stand up close and just stare in a dreamy way at the canvas. And despite being asked to move while I took the final few frames, she kept on creeping into view, to have another look.

Pictures do interesting things to people. Their presence, thanks to the gift of the artist, can work a kind of magic, like taking you into a different place. Pictures operate at different levels, and it may be that even young children can experience these levels, albeit subconsciously.

Colour, composition, texture, line, shapes, all the core elements of an artwork can draw us into aesthetic responses. We respond to beauty. We are attracted to good or strong arrangements. We recognise the emotive and symbolic power of colour. The subject matter in a well composed or visually charged artwork can hold our attention and cause us to think more deeply, much more than a factual or blandly portrayed presentation is able to. The skill of the artist opens the subject to the viewer, like turning the music up louder or underlining a sentence.

Of course, it rarely happens automatically. Only extraordinary artwork can stop people in their tracks. Most artwork requires us to choose to dwell on it. In exactly the same way that a good story or a beautiful poem requires our attentiveness and concentration, so we need to stop, stand still and spend time with an image. Looking at a picture properly is an act of the will, with some expectation that it will communicate with us as we stay with it. And with encouragement, even children like Elizabeth will have a go.

‘Sacrifice’ deals with a picture of a man. He is a Christ-figure, stretched out like the crucifixion, but there is no visible cross. It is quite a big painting, and for a little girl, the figure looms large in her view. The predominant colours are reds, with complimentary blues and even symbolic gold. The figure is painted in an emotive and intense posture, feeling something deeply, expressing something perhaps beyond words. The big hand, all slashed and scarred with paint, invades our space. He feels close. And the supporting colours convey ideas of blood, heat, flame, darkness. This moment is in the twilight zone. No one else is around to share in it with him, but he is engaging with something important, or with someone important. It isn’t pleasant, or is it ecstatic? Elizabeth is a very sympathetic soul, so this dimension is probably where she responds most readily to the picture. The face in particular holds her attention.

When you look closely at the surface of the painting, you also find that the figure is covered with text. Text layered and moulded like a whole body tattoo. And every word is drawn from bible passages relating to sacrifice, blood and covenant. The texture is thick but flat. The figure is a pile of messages, as well as a man. He is a word. So this painting can be read at a metaphorical level; He is a holy message. Yet also this painting can actually be read literally as well, by chasing the fragments of text around this man’s nakedness. Quite a lot to read in fact.

Consider the story. It deals with Jesus either preparing to die or dying. And yet despite him dealing with this moment alone, we as viewers are now with him. In a slightly perverse yet sweet way, we all want to gaze at this private moment. We want to watch the throes of pain and anguish, but do we want to let it touch us? Intense colour, monumental scale, close portraiture, all these artistic tools press us into this scene. Imagine this painting in a dark hall, with only a spotlight on the work. Imagine sitting in the dark with the image for an hour or so. What might that do for your experience? Might it alter your view of the man’s story?

And, alongside these perhaps ‘obvious’ readings of a fairly realistic picture, there is another thing the picture does. It is a big, shiny blast of rich colour. At a purely abstract level, the presence of painterly red, fading into obscure darks framed by turquoise strokes, all have a simple and fascinating attraction. It is simply good to look at strong and beautifully blended colour. My little six-year-old girl can go for wander, a visual walk through the twists and turns of each area. It is large enough as an image to look at the separate parts, to let your eye flow around the piece, enjoying moments of softness or sharp contrast. Beauty is mysterious. We are made to respond with joy and delight at good and rich things. Whether you press your eye up close and see red, or step back and see red, you can drink this picture down into your soul like a good glass of wine (or juice if you’re little!).

Good artworks change or deepen our perspective of life. We learn to see in new ways, we may think more acutely about things, we may even rejoice a bit more in this world of ours.

So, what can a picture do? No doubt Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to fully articulate what she is thinking or feeling about the picture. But something good is happening. We need to create good art and create opportunities for people to engage with it, for the development and enjoyment of life. I’m glad to see Elizabeth dream in front of art. Perhaps we all need to.

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•How can an artist be prophetic?

Andrew Attwood
Sep 06

A prophetic person conveys an authentic message from God - at least that is what prophecy means in the Judeo-Christian sense of the word. Such vibrant prophecy helps to illustrate the nature of God as a free person, full of desire to relate to the world of people. Have you ever experienced moments of revelation? The thing that is special about such communications is the effect of God's messages on those who receive them and accept them. Unlike our own fairly ordinary dialogues that have a limited influence on each other, there is something profoundly transforming about God's loving messages. They may refer to the past, present or future, but the common ingredient is the life-giving power they bring.

The prophets of the Old Testament often brought messages using speech, sometimes as prose, sometimes in poetic form and sometimes in conversation. What are less well known are the creative prophetic actions used to express a particular message. As far back as Abraham, prophetic ‘mark-making' was used to indicate where a person was when God had spoken to him. Stone altars were built as indicators of God's presence and message in the land. Jeremiah once bought a belt, buried it and then reused it in its damaged state to signify the ruin of Judah . In the New Testament the miracles of Jesus were also taken as prophetic acts – water into wine; the abundant generosity of God, - sight to the blind; being able to see spiritual reality clearly.

This genre of ‘enacted messages' connects with the idea that inspired artwork may be able to carry a word from God. Because God in his very nature is creative, and human beings are made in his image, it makes sense that he would be delighted to use our creativity to pass on his own life to others. But why use images? ‘A picture is worth a thousand words'. The famous photograph of the napalmed children in Vietnam starkly makes this point. With many people visual messages stay in the mind far longer than words. When we understand something we say, “I see”. So logically a communicating God would naturally wish to use any visual vehicle that communicates well.

Imagine an artist who sincerely wishes to carry a message from God to others. The degree to which that is possible depends on several factors.

A key factor is whether that artist is truly in relationship with God, otherwise they may be tuned in to something or someone entirely different. A Jesus-centred approach to God works on the premise that he is the best connection to God we will have - Jesus brings God to us in broadband. Is the artist connected to Jesus?
Another factor relates to the skill and imagination of the artist. All we have is what is in us, and a well-developed imagination gives God a broader repertoire to play with. If your mental and emotional library is rich and full, then God can say a range of things through you. But more than imagination is necessary. An artist needs to be skilled. I may hear music well, but if I can't play it, the song will be either lost or out of tune when I bash about on the keys. An artist needs to be honed with multiple abilities.
A prophetic artist needs to both relate well to the audience, but also remain faithful to the ways of God. Are we talking in a language that people can grasp? Of course our art may (and should) be extending the audience's ability to see and think clearly, but there must be a way in for them otherwise God's message goes nowhere. Out of loyalty to God, our work may not be always popular (like Jeremiah's whole ministry) but it must have integrity. Prophetic artists need to check their motivation regularly and stay true to God's general words as well as any specific prophetic message.
Finally, an artist needs to be obedient. Unlike the modern stereotype artistic temperament that seems out of control, or likes to strut about like a spoilt Prima Donna, a truly prophetic artist must wait on God. However talented or gifted they are, the messenger is less important than the message. Humility and poise is significant, able to say both little or much, depending on God's guidance. The focus of the work is to communicate as Jesus did, not to crave the centre of the stage. At the end of the day, all our work (whether we are brick layers or world-renowned painters) will end up as dust and ashes. Nothing physical lasts forever, but God's messages do.

Not all art must be prophetic of course. Many art forms are simply a natural and good expression of who we are and what can be done. And we should enjoy it all! – Not all art has to have a significant divine function. Life is wide and needs basic, straightforward elements as well as significant complex elements. Prophetic art in this sense is not higher in value than other art, but merely part of the symphony of creativity in the world.

But to be prophetic with art is a call and a challenge of importance. According to Paul when writing to the Corinthian community of followers, prophecy is the greatest gift and only love, faith and hope are more important. Prophecy can change lives in radical ways. It may be that a picture turns the thoughts of someone around and opens them up in ways never known before. It may be that the atmosphere of whole communities is improved by an art piece. Art could inspire world-changing movements.

To conclude, art can definitely by prophetic. But it will cost the artist to do it right. It will cost them their ego, and sometimes their finances will be dented out of loyalty to the call. But to be a bona-fide carrier of a heavenly message is worth it. Your name gets written in heaven, probably with a flourish.

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