Musings on Art

Image credit to owner. This is the National Shrine of Pope St. John Paul II in DC, which I also visited.

So, I went to the National Gallery in Washington DC when I was there over Thanksgiving break (shoutout to Eowyn for taking me there and playing "find the decay" in the still lifes of the Dutch Masters with me!) and while that was amazing all on its own (so much art, y'all), it also made me think about what art means to me vis a vis being Catholic.

And y'all know I can't pass up a good discussion of anything vis a vis Catholicism. So here we are. 

One thing that I noticed as we were walking through the galleries is that I stopped and looked far longer at the Catholic art. Not that the non-Catholic art wasn't beautiful (the still lifes of the Dutch Masters were my next-favorites), but it just didn't hold my attention for as long. It didn't give me anything to look at, to watch for, to analyze. Especially the landscapes, which were beautiful but merited from me, unconsciously, no more than a "oh that's nice", and then moving on. 

As I tend to do, I started to muse on why this might be. Why do I enjoy the Catholic art more than any of the other art? And what does that mean about non-Catholics who go to art galleries?

My first idea about meaning was that maybe because I know the stories really well, I can see more details and understand what's going on better than some people. And I'm sure that's part of it, but it's not all of it. For instance, I know the stories of the Greek & Roman pantheon, and yet, those paintings don't hold my attention as long as the Catholic paintings, either.

But, an epiphany came to me when I was watching The Fellowship of the Ring with my cousins later that week. There's a part (that I'd heard talked about before, in a slightly different context) where the Fellowship is boating down the river, and they come to the huge statues, the Argonath. And Aragorn looks up, with fire in his eyes, and says "my kin". 

The Argonath are statues of his Gondorian relatives, who, though he has never met, he knows that he is related to. 

And, I realized, that's how I feel about Catholic art. The people in the paintings, God, Jesus, Mary, the saints, are my kin, through Baptism and becoming a part of the Mystical Body of Christ. 

That's at least part of the reason why I can spend so much longer looking at Catholic art than other art. It's like looking at family pictures, rather than looking at pictures of strangers. Would you rather spend time looking through a family photo album, or a photo album of a family that you barely know, have maybe seen a couple of times? The family photo album has family stories attached to it, family history, emotions and memories, even if one hasn't met all the people in the pictures, if they are, for instance, pictures of one's great-grandparents, who died before one was born. As one gets older, one can maybe see more nuances of feeling, hears different parts of stories, notices different things. It's a family history, in pictures.

And that's how I feel when I'm looking at Catholic art. I'm looking at different depictions of family stories. I notice details, because I know the stories, and I can see where the artist goes beyond, and what he or she wanted to depict, and how he or she wanted to deepen the connection with the story. I recognize the people--Jesus, the apostles, the saints, &c. I can gaze at their faces and meditate on the emotions they show, on how the people are grouped.

Because, being Catholic, I have 'met' many of these people through prayer, and because the art depicts an interpretation of the truth, the art can actually let me meditate on Biblical events, which can even lead me to prayer, allowing me to encounter the people more deeply. And even if I don't end up meditating, expressions or juxtapositions can help me to understand the people even more deeply. 

It's my family, and even better, it's a way to get to know my family more deeply. Like Aragorn, I can be inspired by the images, and reminded who I am.

But what does this mean for people who aren't Catholic, and who look at Catholic art?

First of all, when non-Catholics are looking at specifically Catholic art, they'll give no more than an "oh, that's nice", the same "oh, that's nice" that I give to not specifically Catholic art. Which is really sad, because there's so much Catholic art, that they're missing a lot! And that's quite tragic, really. 

I was at a special exhibition of art, largely Catholic art, at an art gallery at home right before COVID, with Merry and Pippin, and there were several pieces of art that we spent a long time looking at, feeling the emotion, noticing tiny details, where people breezed past them. Most notably, there was a painting of Christ at the Pillar, by Moretto, that had so many details in it--the objects near Christ, of course, but also the expression on His face, and the tiny scenes from the parables in background. And a group of young adults a little older than us took a glance, said, "Jesus looks ripped," and moved on.

Seriously? That's all you're getting out of it?

So, there's that.

But also, now we can get into some things that I thought about when I was reading My Name is Asher Lev over break. (I thought about art a fair bit over break, y'all.) One of the things that is run into is that the Crucifixion is the form that is used to show horrible sadness, suffering, despair, &c in art. There's not another form that conveys all of that, that has the rich history of that, and that is used in that way. 
Then there's the Pieta for motherly love.
And the resurrection for wonder-terror.
And so on. (Note: these aren't in the book, this is me taking the idea a bit further.)

Catholicism has influenced art to such a degree (given that for over fifteen centuries, pretty much the only people making art in the West were Catholic) that all art has a Catholic legacy and exists in the framework and context of Catholicism/Catholic art, whether or not the artist wants it to. (That's part of the conflict of Asher Lev.)

So, again, what does that mean for people who aren't Catholic, or at least Christian? 

It means that there's far less meaning for them in the art. It means that they can't contextualize the art nearly as well, and it doesn't mean as much. It means that they can't gaze at it for hours and find hidden meanings in it. It means that they'll make surface-level evaluations, and then move on. 

It means they won't be able to appreciate the art, really most art on a deep level that a Catholic, or even a non-Catholic Christian (though not quite to the same degree) can. 

Which is really sad. But it also makes me wonder--if we have a predominantly atheistic society for long enough (centuries), will all art become lodged in an atheistic framework in such a way that Catholics can't appreciate it? 

Maybe. But I think that as long as the Catholic Church exists, Catholics will be making art to glorify God, even if it's not mainstream. So, there will always be a legacy of Catholic art, even if the culture doesn't want to admit it. And as long as there is Catholic art, there will be Catholics to appreciate it, even if no one else does.

Do I know how to end this post? Not particularly. But how about this--now I want to hear your thoughts!

So, enough of my ramblings--what do you think?