Antique Buddha in an
interior alongside contemporary painting. Image from
http://nypost.com/2013/09/12/inside-job-glimpses-at-trend-setters-interior-design-techniques/
Following on from the last
topic, I am going to explore the relation between religious works, that is,
images and sculptures intended as aids in worship, and the category of objects
termed ‘art’. I am interested in the question whether religious works ought to
be treated in a way that differs from the treatment of secular art. Religious
images and sculptures are frequently found displayed as art in museums and in
people's homes: a European collector in London might have within his home a
Renaissance oil painting of a Madonna and Child, a bronze sculpture of the
Buddha, and a fragmented marble sculpture of an ancient Greek deity, amid
Post-Impressionist paintings and Louis XVI furniture. Is it appropriate to
bring sacred objects into a secular setting, for secular use?
17th century
Cambodian Buddha alongside Hoffman chairs. Image from http://theartoftheroom.com/2014/04/one-singular-sensation/
Art has sometimes been
defined as being characterised by a lack of practical function. Yet to a believer,
what is more vitally functional than depictions of the deity, inspiring behaviour and thoughts that follow the model provided by the deity, or than objects enabling proper devotion, on which the
god's pleasure and therefore the believer's wellbeing and prosperity depend? A
Christian gazing at a depiction of the Madonna and Child in a church is more
likely seeking strength in faith during a time of trial than admiring the
painter's composition or skill in rendering a likeness. A Hindu bringing food
to a statue of Ganesha is more likely seeking divine favour and to draw on the
deity's qualities for his own actions than concerned with the use of colour or
the dynamism of the representation. Religious works therefore have a function
that differentiates them from secular works: they somehow connect the believer
with the divine.
Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Leda
and the Swan’. Image from http://www.oilpaintingshop.com/davinci/25.jpg
da Vinci’s ‘Madonna of the
Yarnwinder’. Note the similarity in the rendering of the landscape and the
posture of the children. Image from http://www.leonardo-da-vinci-biography.com/images/leonardo-da-vinci-madonna-of-yarnwinder.jpg
Yet the aesthetic
properties of religious paintings and sculptures are the same as those of
secular paintings and sculptures. Objects in both categories are man-made,
requiring the same skills and materials. Those who painted or sculpted
religious works often also made works with secular topics: for example,
Leonardo da Vinci and Jan van Eyck. For a long time in history, with the Church
being such a wealthy and influential patron of the Arts, artists' commissions
were frequently religious works that would serve to inspire in church-goers the
fear of God and respect for the institution that claimed legitimation by His
Son (see Matthew 16:18) and power to communicate with Him—as much as
commissions for portraits of wealthy clergymen, politicians and merchants or
works on themes chosen by them, such items serving as markers of status. With
this in mind, it becomes more difficult to argue that paintings and sculptures
intended for religious use are somehow different from those considered 'art'
and treated as such.
Jan van Eyck’s ‘Arnolfini
Portrait’. Image from
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Van_Eyck_-_Arnolfini_Portrait.jpg
van Eyck’s ‘Virgin and
Child Reading’. Note the emphasis on domesticity in both, the typically Flemish
interior and costumes of both, and the similarity in the faces of the female
figures. Image from
http://ca.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jan_van_Eyck#mediaviewer/Fitxer:Jan_van_Eyck_075.jpg
Perhaps it is the intended
purpose or meaning of the aesthetic properties of a religious work that
separate it from other ‘art’? The beauty of a painting of the Annunciation is
intended to convey the perfection of God and the purity of the Virgin.1 Is it reductionist to speak of such a painting on the
same terms as a secular work, and is it disrespectful to its intended spiritual
richness to exhibit it in a collection amid secular works?
As far as 'dead' religions
go, it is not surprising that, the deities being no longer worshipped, their
religious paraphernalia, including depictions of the deities, should be seen as
'curiosities' or 'collectibles', in the way that a now-useless ancient
agricultural tool would be, and that they might feature as part of a
collector's items and be appreciated for their enduring aesthetic qualities
rather than any past religious power. But what about living religions? And in
particular, living religions that are not the religion of the collector?
The Siva Nataraja. Image
from http://webster-smalley.co.uk/ArchyWiki/Image:Siva_1.jpg
In a documentary about the
recovery of the Siva Nataraja by the Hindu temple in India from which it had
been stolen for sale as an 'antiquity' in the USA, a monk from the temple
pondered aloud: 'What would non-Hindus want to do with a statue of our deity?'.2 To him,
the statue was not just a pretty object, but a physical manifestation of the
deity on earth - and not just any deity, but one who dances the world into
existence and can dance it to oblivion. The idea that a western collector would
use it to decorate his home was unthinkable. Yet this statue was worth millions
on the art and antiquities market, with good reason: the craftsmanship is
stunning, the human form elegant, its facial expression serene and wise, the
religious belief it relates to a poetic one. This is the case with many
works of art: the expressions of spiritual serenity on the faces depicted,
combined with the artistic beauty (and therefore worth) of the works, make them
appealing additions to the interiors of collectors.
A Madonna and Child statue
from a convent, for sale online. Image from
http://www.churchantiques.com/product/our-lady-of-mount-carmel/
For Macgaffey, art is 'the
fabricated minus the useful', therefore 'a 13th century Madonna becomes a work
of art' when it enters a context where it no longer has efficacy as an aid to
worship.3 As the number of people who say they are not
religious increases, and with the Church of England website reporting that ‘around twenty
Church of England church buildings are closed for worship each year’,4 it is not
surprising that the contents of churches should increasingly be found on the
market (see the website www.churchantiques.com
selling items from churches, convents etc and whose range of clientele includes religious
organisations and individuals looking for a fun feature in their living room), and that there
are not enough religious buyers to provide these items with a new religious
setting. The painting's value as a work
of art enables it to enter the secular setting of the art market. From there,
it can be bought by a Christian for use in a sacred context (though I haven't
encountered an example of this, perhaps because it would be hard for a
religious institution to justify spending large amounts of money on a painting
and on its subsequent protection from theft and deterioration instead of on the
needs of the flock), or by an individual for use in a private secular context,
or by a secular institution. If a museum acquires an antique Hindu sculpture,
how should it treat it? Should it request that non-Hindu visitors behave 'in a
manner that Hindu adherents would deem respectful'?5 How should
museum staff react if Hindus are found praying in front of the object? Should
they allow such behaviour, encourage it, or ensure that it is excluded from the
secular context of the museum where it might interfere with non-Hindu's
appreciation of the object as art? In the late 1980s, an exhibition of Greek
icons and frescoes in an American museum was the scene of religious devotion,
with visitors kissing the artwork exhibited: these religious works were still
treated as sacred even in their new secular context. In contrast, tourists
enter churches, temples and mosques worldwide as they would a museum or
historic house (sometimes showing little concern for observance of the dress
code of the religious institution), admiring the religious frescoes, paintings
and statues for their aesthetic properties and historic associations rather
than their religious power.6
Tourists in Istanbul’s
Suleimaniye Mosque (note that not all women have covered their heads as
required by the Muslim dress-code). Image from http://satsumaart.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/dscn2411.jpg
This leads us onto another
question: do secular and religious artworks produce widely differing reactions
in the viewer? Sacredness can be central to a secular artist's intention and
aesthetic expression. Mondrian and Kandinsky, among other artists, were
fascinated by the spiritual and hoped to produce art that could guide the
viewer into the spiritual dimension (an ideal particularly relevant in a
context of decreasing religious faith and increasing materialism).7 Much
religious art shares themes with secular art that arguably relate less to
theological truths than to the human condition (whether seen within a religious
context or not). Francis Bacon's and Edvard Munch's paintings of modern angst
are just as powerful expressions of the human experience of despair as
Hieronymus Bosch’s depiction of hell.
Munch’s ‘Scream’. Image
from http://www.abcgallery.com/M/munch/munch32.jpg
Bosch’s ‘Harrowing of
Hell’. Image from
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4e/Follower_of_Jheronimus_Bosch_-_The_Harrowing_of_Hell.jpg
Do the countless paintings
of the Madonna and Child differ hugely from the works in this year’s
photographic exhibition about motherhood?
Filippo Lippi’s
Madonna and Child with Two Angels. Image from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Filippo_Lippi_-_Madonna_col_Bambino_e_due_angeli_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg
Elino Carucci’s ‘Elinor Carucci Feeding Emanuelle From a Plastic Bottle’. Image from http://www.standard.co.uk/incoming/article8878586.ece/alternates/w620/42hometruth1410.jpg
Hanna Putz’s
‘Untitled’. Image from http://www.artlyst.com/img/articles/4756.jpg
Is Filippo Lippi's painting
‘The Madonna and Child with Two Angels’, modelled on his lover the nun Lucrezia
Buti, a theological exploration of Mary's faith in God, or is it a man's portrait of the
object of his (earthly) love? If the latter, how does the expression on the
Madonna’s face compare with that of Elsbeth in Holbein’s ‘Portrait of the
Artist’s Wife and Two Children’ (which draws on the genre of the Madonna and
Child)?
Holbein’s ‘Portrait of the
Artist’s Wife and Two Children’. Image from
http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/h/holbein/hans_y/1531/2family.html
Is it significant that
Matisse's designs for the Chapelle du Rosaire de Vence are stylistically and
thematically similar to his secular works in later life: cut-outs, mainly of
algae-like shapes in painstakingly thought-out compositions and beautiful
combinations of colours? If works for the Chapel project can be exhibited
alongside and collected in the same way as Matisse's secular work (as they are
right now at the Tate Modern), why should other religious works not be
exhibited and collected as artworks?
Chapelle du Rosaire de
Vence, stainglass window by Matisse. Image from
http://si.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-UG596_mpvenc_P_20120822124308.jpg
Matisse’s ‘La Gerbe’, in
the courtyard of owner Frances Brody. Image from
http://lacma.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/1-matisse-ceramic-in-brody_s-courtyard.jpg
It is surely positive that religious works can still be appreciated in
an increasingly secular society, albeit in a different (secular) capacity, and
that they be preserved rather than destroyed. It is wonderful that people from a
certain culture and religious (or non-religious) background can appreciate the
beauty of works produced in a culture and religious tradition vastly different
from their own. What is problematic is that the art market’s demand for
religious material may have links with thefts and lootings from religious sites
and with damages to religious buildings for the purpose of removing saleable
features (a paradox whereby beautiful buildings, works of art in themselves as
the sum of many parts, are shorn of their artwork in order to feed demand
for art): examples include the Siva Nataraja mentioned above, the 6th
century mosaics from the Church of Panagia Kanakaria in Cyprus, sculptures of deities adorning Cambodian temples (beheaded- the head being easier to carry than the whole body and worth enough on its own), and countless
other religious sites. I find myself wholly in favour of the collecting and
displaying of religious artwork alongside secular art and in secular contexts:
it adds variety to daily life and interiors, and encourages tolerance of and appreciation for
other cultures and religious beliefs and their expression. What I find
intolerable are cases where living religious traditions are being butchered for
the sake of the art market: such actions are not only hugely disrespectful to
people of different faiths and an affront to inter-cultural appreciation; they are
also crimes against art.
Figure on a Cambodian Temple damaged by looters. Image from: http://sylvaingharbi.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/looting2.jpg
What are your views on the nature of religious works within the wider corpus of 'art'? How do you feel about religious art being exhibited in secular contexts?
References
1. See Davies in my
previous article
2. ABC television programme
Four Corners
3. W. Macgaffey,
1998. ‘“Magic, or as we usually say, Art”: A Framework for
Comparing European and African Art’.
5. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/deepak-sarma/hindu-art-or-hindu-artifacts_b_4031682.html
7. arthistoryresources.net
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