God in the Gallery by Daniel Siedell is from the perspective of an art curator. It focuses on visual art, but its thesis works on all mediums.
Siedell examines art first for what it says about itself, then interacts with that as a Christian (rather than imposing our theologies and perspectives on the artwork). But he also allows that the meaning of a particular piece may transcend the intention of the artist. In fact, he derives his thesis from Paul’s Mars Hill speech. Some may see a contradiction in this (allowing the art to speak for itself v. seeing our meanings apart from the intention of the artist), but I believe both aspects work together.
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The book isn’t written about the practice of art but the evaluation of. Specifically, it argues that instead of broadscale rejection of modern and contemporary art (as many evangelicals tend to do or have done in the past several decades), we need to interact with it for this art has much to say that is spiritually and religiously affirming. Unfortunately, in this area, most of his audience probably wouldn’t pick up the book.
Regarding art criticism: Siedell says it is its own form of art as it interacts with the work. It is the art form of those who have been moved and shaped by art. Compare this with book criticism and the current debates on this of who should be writing book reviews: it may be good to get educated literary perspectives, but if books shape you, whether or not you have a degree and training, don’t you have the right to share your interaction on blogs, Amazon, etc? Most of the time, someone who is trained (whether formally or informally) will have more insights, a deeper perspective and appreciation as to the craft. Also, this person will (hopefully) be able take the discussion to a deeper level re: how the book views the world. And we should be striving for this. We shouldn’t allow ourselves simple amusement that doesn’t interact with the craft and themes and ideas of the book. But if you are interacting, though you may not have reached some official position, shouldn’t you be allowed to publish these thoughts? (See also article in Guardian: Is there room for digression in a book review?)
Regarding the term "Christian art": the term marinalizes art. It no longer interacts with the world because it has been created by and for Christians, or, at the least, is perceived so. I agree with this, but I also want to think about the implications: does this mean we shouldn’t have Christian publishers? Christian patrons? Does this mean that we shouldn’t create art for the church?
Can there not be Christians who create art for the church but also to interact with the world? Can that be the same person or does "branding" not allow that? Further, can that be the same work of art?
Siedell speaks to that in part. He argues that there is art created for the church (namely icons that aid prayer) and a different sort of art created for the world (for museums, galleries, etc.): "The church, with its liturgical practice, is most definitely not the place to incorporate art that forces the worshiper to ‘ask tough questions,’ ‘challenge previously held beliefs,’ and so on. Those are absolutely important practices, but not in liturgy."
I don’t agree. To be fair, Siedell doesn’t believe that the church stymies imagination but can inspire the imagination, especially through engagement with Nicene theology. But I don’t like this separation of art for the church and art for the world. First, in our teaching (sermons, Bible studies, Sunday schools, small groups), we "ask tough questions" and "challenge previously held beliefs," so why not in our art in the church? Second, if drawing into the church encourages and prepares us to go out into the world, why should we compartmentalize aspects of our life? Shouldn’t it all flow together.
(I want to note that in addition to stimulating the imagination, Siedell also believes the church can patron the arts and should, not just through funding, but through training the artist spiritually. I wholeheartedly agree with this.)
I allow that there’s an expectation level. You don’t want to shock the worshiper so that they can’t worship. This requires discernment, gentleness, and education. I’ll also allow that not every bit of art is appropriate because it may not be an art that a particular culture engages in. Sometimes this should be challenged, but sometimes it is in line with contextualization. But art that a culture engages in as part of their everyday lives is fair game.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, especially as some of the artists of whom Siedell spoke I’d recently seen at an exhibit. I highly recommend this book for anyone interested in engaging in the arts and evaluating how the Christian Church and theology can contribute in healthy dialogue.
Psst–If you find this post interesting and think others might as well, would you mind taking a minute to stumble it? It would mean a lot to me.
by Daniel Siedell: This is one of those books that I like to read slowly, stopping every chapter (which are more like separate essays) to consider the author’s point. Currently, I’m reading the chapter about art criticism. Coming from the world of music criticism in my past life, while the specifics are different, the debates are the same.
by Jeanne Damoff: I’m ashamed to say this, but I’ve been putting off reading this book for over a month (sorry, Jeanne!). I know it will be a book that will Play Doh my emotions. But this is the next book, to be started tonight, I expect.
by Marcus Zusak: This is my current audio book. I’m coming to the end of this. The POV is brilliant: the story is given through the eyes of death, a much more kind-hearted fellow than the Grim Reaper. Death retells the story of Liesel Meminger as he reads her account of it. He offers asides, such as times he encountered her in his collections or flash forwards to the deaths of a certain character. It combines an omniscient POV with limited in a new way, stealing the strengths of each. Set during WWII in a small German town, it follows Liesel and a small cast of characters: her neighbor and best friend, Rudy, her foster parents, and the Jewish refugee in her basement, Max. Not only a new story, it gives a fresh perspective on the time period. Zusak doesn’t hide from the atrocities, but neither does he exploit them, but tells the story of Liesel, one girl during this time.
by Leif Enger: This is up next for my local book club, and I’m looking forward to reading it.
