Rapunzel

Let's start with just a physical description of the work.  Julian used to have a loft bed, one corner of which was suspended by a cable from the ceiling.  His bed's now on the ground but the eyelet is still attached on the ceiling.  A cable (in this case, our dog-runner leash that we use to tie Bilbo up outside) is attached and extends out through the window, across the yard, and attaches to an identical eyelet installed on the floor of my studio.  The cable isn't actually long enough so I've attached some rope that utilizes my two favorite knots- the bowline knot and another one that I don't know the name of (if it has one)- but it's a very simple device for tightening a rope and securing it to maintain tension.  The tension is the primary point of the piece.

Years ago I became fascinated by the concept of tension as a positive force- a force that seeks resolution and thus moves one forward and driving the process of creation.  And it's not just in art this occurs, but everywhere in life- our careers, our relationships.  Unfortunately the feeling associated with tension is negative and leads to people trying to avoid it, which also denies them the opportunity and the reward of working through it.

So I've toyed with several ideas using tension.  Then I saw a video on the artist Robert Irwin who posed this question: "If you could make an artwork that was absolutely amazing, but would only last for 20 minutes, would you still make it?"  The idea goes against many people's idea that art is a precious object.  The fact that museums exist to harbor and protect these special objects endows perhaps too much emphasis on the object itself. (I'm often asked, when doing something abstract, "What is it?"- a question that also reflects this emphasis on the thing).

But what Robert Irwin was getting at was that the true 'art' was the experience of viewing it.  Indeed, to truly appreciate art it is more important to ask 'What is it doing?' or 'How is it making me feel?' rather than 'What is it?'  This shifts the emphasis onto the art's effect on the viewer, where lies its true value.

So I've challenged myself with this notion of not creating objects that exist in perpetuity.  So at times, I've brought clamps or ratcheting tie-downs when I visit someplace and do temporary tension sculptures designed to give me, and any other viewer, an experience but that, at the end of the day/trip, gets taken down- never to exist again.

Rapunzel is just such a piece.  I can recreate it at any time and will do so from time to time.  It can be redone in other locations and have similar effects but in this iteration it is definitely temporary as I can't shut my studio door, and the children can't shut their window, while it's installed.  Furthermore, it's placement adds to the meaning.  I'm particularly intrigued with the two poles in this piece- one being my studio, the other being my family.  If this piece were recreated in a different location, that aspect would change or disappear entirely.

I personally don't read a whole lot into the title 'Rapunzel'- but I don't discourage its associations.  I appreciate the humor of it seeing as the piece goes through an upstairs window.  But the story of Rapunzel also speaks of imprisonment and redemption, and connections with the outside world around us.  These themes can definitely be brought to bear on one's experience of the piece.

But my experience brings me back to the tension that holds the cable/rope in place in space.  It strikes me on a visceral level (in fact, I'm for renaming 'visual art' as 'visceral art.')  The tension affects me.   The tension creates the meaning.

FaithQuest 2011_6

Who knows what the Holy Spirit was up to?  I talk to all the speakers about what they’ll be talking about to see what sort of ideas we can come up with.  Brian was going to stress that the Israelites had the land itself as a reminder of what God had done for them.  So I thought I’d do a ‘traditional’ landscape.  Then the Holy Spirit prompted him to go in a different direction so then it seemed like I made a picture completely unrelated to what he was talking about.  Perhaps that idea would be best expressed through the drawing and so a speaker repeating it in words was unnecessary?  Who knows? 

So here’s a little art lesson for you.  Atmospheric Perspective.  When you look far off in the distance, because of the atmosphere, things in the distance are lighter than things up close to you.   I was actually pretty nervous about doing this.  One- charcoal is kind of tough to work with.  Two- I’m pretty hard on myself in terms of quality.  I often set the bar pretty high- in this case this phenomenal drawing by the artist Claude Lorraine.

 So how do I measure up?  I feel I still have a LONG way to go skill-level-wise.  There are times when I try to imitate an artist and I feel good about it-  that I ‘know’ their work because I can do it just as well.  Not here, my friends.  I would love to master charcoal but I’m just not there yet.  (granted this Lorraine work looks to be in ink- scarier still!)  Also- a word to the wise:  if you’re going to do a landscape, don’t make it up.  Go someplace and actually draw/paint what you see.  Perhaps I would have done better positioning myself where I could see a ways up the river and draw someplace real. 

Regardless, here’s the really tough part for me.  I got lots of compliments on this one and garnered several ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs.’  It kills me that I could do something that I consider somewhat mediocre and get such a good response.  So here are a couple words to myself that I hope is taken to heart by all who use their talents in Kingdom work:  Don’t sell out to the crowd.  Don’t settle for popular.   Your audience is God.  Bring it the way He created you to.

FaithQuest 2011_5

I’m a big fan of Minimalist art.  It’s called that because, well, there is often very little there.  Have you ever heard the phrase ‘Less is More’?  It comes from Minimalist art. The idea is that you maximize the effect with as little means as possible.  I think it makes it more difficult, really.  It’s easy to just keep adding stuff to a painting to make it ‘work.’  But to just have one or two shapes, and/or one or two colors- and create a powerful effect is difficult. 

A lot of it has to do with placement.  Think of it this way.  You ever been bowling?  Say you throw your bowling ball and it makes a bee-line for the gutter.  There’s no point in even watching – you just throw your hands up in the air, turn around and forget about it.  But say it’s really close.  It’s inching for the gutter but it also has a slight curve and it just might hit that one pin on the side that you need.  All of a sudden without realizing it you are making strange movements with your body, awkwardly leaning over to encourage the ball to curve more, miss the gutter, and hit the pin.  The placement of the ball in relation to the gutter and the pin creates a physical sensation in you; prompting you to make ‘sympathetic’ movements to exert influence or control over the ball.

That’s what Minimal art is all about- not really illustrating something but trying to create an almost physical sensation within the viewer.  That’s what I’ve attempted to do here, only in a slightly illustrative mode as well. 

The wall of Jericho is falling.  I reduced it down- minimized it, if you will- to just black shapes on a yellow background.  But the proportion/size of the painting, the relationship of the wall pieces to the edge of the painting, the physical density of the yellow and the black- all are enlisted to give the sensation of this wall falling seemingly for no reason at all.  There is nothing pushing, pulling, or crashing into it. 

God is making the wall fall.  I hope you feel it.

FaithQuest 2011_4

Picasso once said, “Good artists borrow; Great artists steal.”  I admit it,  I totally stole the imagery on this one (it’s ok, though, because he stole it too.)  One of my former professors in graduate school, a phenomenal artist named John Millei has made a series of works using this type of imagery for water.  He stole the idea from some tapestries in Angers, France (the artistic term for ‘stealing’ is ‘appropriation’).  I love the power of a line- waving, bending, moving through space and reacting to its environment.  And these lines, serving as waves, are so powerful to me; so expressive.

Maritime #10 (The Deluge) by John Millei

So I decided to use them in this painting of the water of the Jordan River dividing (to his credit, his paintings are much better than mine. In my defense, it was my first time).  And as Troy let us know- the Israelites had to really step out in faith on this one.  Before, when they were all kids and their parents were being led out from Egypt, Moses went up, raised his arms and staff and the waters parted before them.  Then they just had to walk through like it was no big deal.  This time, though, the priests carrying the ark had to step in the water first.  It wasn’t until they placed their foot in the running current that the water began to back up and split.  So here you see, as the water is dividing, there are footprints already in the sand.  

FaithQuest 2011_3

I like art that is physical.  I like different materials that must be handled differently than just paint.  I also like the idea that words can become a material to make an image, in this case two mountains.

God told Moses that when they got to the Promised Land they needed to recite the blessings and curses.  One group would stand on or in front of Mt. Gerazim and the other would stand on Mt. Ebbol.  In the middle would be stones piled up in an alter, with the law written on them.  Mt. Ebbol was barren and desolate, scorched by the sun.  Mt. Gerazim, however was lush and green- both places appropriately signifying the blessings or curses that would be spoken from them.

In acknowledging the universality of God’s plan, Troy Wagner spoke of the cross as being at the center, in place of the law that the rock altar symbolized.  So in keeping with my artistic preferences noted above, I thought, “What better way to include the cross while referencing the stones of the altar than to use actual stones?”

So it’s pretty straightforward, then- desolate Ebbol is in yellows/browns/reds while lush Gerazim is in greens.  The shapes of the mountains are formed by the words of cursing and blessing found in Deuteronomy chapters 27 and 28.  

There is also a detail a bit more subtle.  In art- everything should be expressive- the color, the texture, even seemingly insignificant details like the brushstroke.  Here, the brushstrokes on the 'blessings' side stay pretty even going and back and forth.  The strokes on the 'curses' side, however, go every which direction in a more chaotic way.  

Faith Quest 2011_2

When I first started thinking about FaithQuest this year and the theme of God’s people travelling, I immediately thought of an artist named Jacob Lawrence.  He was an African American artist who came to prominence in the 1940s by painting a series of paintings based on the migration of African Americans from the South to industrial centers in the North.  He had a simple yet powerful style that strikes me in its forcefulness in the way he arranges his scenes and his color combinations.

Laundress by Jacob Lawrence

            So I wanted to try to imitate that simplicity and let the colors and arrangements carry the story.  So here we have Rahab living in the city wall, the spies hiding on the roof, and city officials coming to inquire about them.  Rahab bows in submission to the authorities while pointing that they had moved on down the road.  Her finger, and the road, leads your eye to the horizon- a phrase that Brian Simmons repeated, “Keep your eye on the horizon, looking for Jesus.”

            There’s all types of artsy things going on in this one.  Just like you learn in school to arrange your essays into paragraphs, artists have different organizational schemes.  One is the ‘L’ shaped composition- which I play with here (only here the ‘L’ is turned around upside down backwards- it follows the sky along the spies and drops down along the wall on the right.)  The trick is to relate the ‘L’ to the resulting inset rectangle.  Here I’ve used Rahab’s pointing hand to cross both areas and the wall extending up into the sky.

            Color also plays a role.  I wanted an anxious color as a backdrop to the city officials so a red-orange does the trick.  Rahab is also clothed in that color (the ‘lady in red’) which also indicates where she’s from.  But she has an underlayer of purple and skin tones to match the spies that she is aligning herself with. 

            Here’s something interesting that happened.  When you paint, you have a vague idea (sometimes) of what you’re trying to do.  But you also want to be aware, and ‘watch yourself’ while you paint.  Oftentimes you will see something in process that expresses more clearly your original idea.  In this case, I had started a rough outline of the spies in hiding, intending to fully color them in with colors tying them to Rahab.  But I actually liked the idea of them being somewhat transparent- almost hiding from us, the viewers, as well.  So I threw some color in to keep the color associations but left them primarily transparent. 

            I could probably go on with other associations and things I thought about – some premeditated, some discovered after the fact.  But the real point is the amount of thought that goes into a work of art.  Maybe we would do well to put as much thought into our own lives.  Both thinking ahead of time how and who we will be.  But also being aware (looking on the horizon for Jesus) and making adjustments in the process of living.

FaithQuest 2011

Every year Melinda and I help out at a youth event called Faith Quest. We help design and build the stage setup and then I do a series of paintings while the featured speakers give their talks. This year the theme was the Oregon Trail and the talks centered around the Israelites journey into the Promised Land. Troy Wagner presented the opening lecture on the relationship between Joshua, who led the Israelites, and Jesus who leads us.

What’s in a name? The Hebrew word for Joshua is Yeshua. When you translate that into Greek you get the name Jesus. Joshua led God’s people into the promised land. A land that they did not earn; a land they merely received based on God’s promise to Abraham. Jesus also leads us into a promised land. It is also a reward that we didn’t earn. I think there is significance in the name of Jesus. Literally it means ‘He Saves.’ And it was just as true for the ancient Israelites as it is for us.

So God is beyond time. There is no backwards or forwards; beginning or end. So how do you visualize that? How do you show an eternal plan with no beginning and no end? And yet there are two individuals that serve as signposts to this larger picture. Two individuals that share the same name. And it occurred to me that playing cards have this sense about them. No matter which way you turn them they are always ‘right side up.’ They never end.

So then all these things came together- I used a king’s face because Jesus is a king, and Joshua acted in a kingly role in leading Israel into the promised land. But then I made it a ‘Jack’ since their names started with ‘J.’ Throughout the NT you see references to what the “Law and the Prophets” said. Joshua carried the Law- the stone tablets- with them into the Promised Land. Jesus announced his ministry with the reading of a scroll from the Prophets- proclaiming release for prisoners and sight for the blind.

To emphasize the inclusiveness of God’s Kingdom I also thought I would represent both black cards and red cards. So Jesus has a heart (because, you know… the whole ‘Jesus loves you’ thing) and Joshua is a spade because it serves as the point of his spear as he leads the Israelites into battle. His finger is pointing to lead the charge. Jesus has two fingers pointing in blessing. I’m not sure where it came from but whenever you see pictures of Jesus from, like, the Middle Ages and in icons from Eastern Orthodox traditions you have everyone raising two fingers in blessing. I thought I’d allude to that artistic heritage as well. Also, instead of a spear, Jesus leads us by example through His death on the cross.

Hopefully this gives you a different way to think about Jesus, Joshua, and God’s plan. But here’s something else about the power of art: by taking the image of a playing card, the next time you’re playing cards you just might remember this painting, and thus think about Jesus.

Renovatus Jesus

The Best Advice I Ever Received

I've been thinking a lot about marriage recently.

It's something Melinda and I talk about quite a bit, actually.  But we don't just talk about our marriage- we talk about marriage in general.  And I think that is key.  And it reflects a perspective I gained when hearing what I consider to be the best advice I've ever received.

Melinda's father performed our wedding.  But living in a different state at the time, he could not have us in a full pre-marital counseling program that he usually liked to have with couples.  But there were a couple of things he really wanted to say to us so one time while they were out visiting before the wedding, he gave us his 'crash course' in marriage.

The Arnolfini Wedding by Jan Van Eyck

Now, I'm all about gaining new perspectives.  It's what fascinates me about and draws me towards art.  Because you are able to gain new conceptions of seemingly mundane, ordinary things.  We all have ideas about how things are supposed to be.  Whether we're fully conscious of it or not, we have images in our head- be they abstract signs of relationships or clear pictures of people, examples that embody our ideal.  I wasn't really conscious of my images of marriage at the time- most likely I had pictures of my parents' relationship.  But I was about to become aware of a new vision, a new conception of marriage that continues to affect me to this day.

In this 'crash course,' my future father-in-law said that in marriage there are actually three commitments- one is to God, one is to your spouse, and one is to... marriage.  Having grown up Christian, the commitment to God was a no-brainer.  And the commitment to your spouse?  Duh!  But a commitment to marriage itself gave my brain a little twist.  Marriage was a separate entity that was beyond Melinda's and my relationship to each other.  But that separate-ness has made a huge difference in our relationship.

We all get mad at our spouse.  We are never going to agree all the time.  And sometimes it is difficult to love the other person. And for those reasons, if the marriage is only about your relationship with that person- how you're feeling towards them, or how they're feeling about you- then I fear the marriage could very easily be derailed.  But when I think about the marriage- about what is required for a good marriage, then a whole new dynamic develops.

I've noticed at least two main benefits from taking this perspective.  First, I've done things that I wouldn't have done just based on my moment-to-moment feelings.  It has compelled me to stand back and look at what a good marriage is and given me a yardstick with which to measure my performance.  If I just stayed with how I felt, I could probably come up with many things to complain about.  Perhaps those complaints would develop into anger and bitterness.  And, of course,  I'm sure I would never be at fault because we never blame ourselves when we're just looking at our feelings. Right?

The second benefit is thankfulness.  When I compare my performance with a yardstick that is not emotionally charged, I find all the ways in which I've been a poor, miserable slouch (to put it mildly) and I feel truly thankful and blessed that my wonderful wife has put up with me and still chooses me on a daily basis.  But wait- what happened to all the blame and hurt and bitterness alluded to in the last paragraph?  That's right, it can't be sustained when you have a clearer picture of things.  And when I'm truly thankful for my wife, it's MUCH easier to love her than when I'm angry at her.

So to sustain a good marriage, I can't just look at how I'm feeling.  I have to look at marriage itself- and sustain my commitment to it.

In this season of reflection and resolutions, I encourage you to take stock of your commitments- and regardless of your feelings- commit to that ideal.