Identity

Identity: Mihaela Ivanovae 

As I was making my list of "identifiers" in class today, I noticed I was hesitant to write down anything that'd end up circled (circled words = malleable traits/qualities). I've long wrestled with the relationship between my core + my surface, and this exercise revealed that my battle is not yet over. However, I realized something freeing in this process. The three words I did end up circling were "photographer," "painter," and "potter;" yet I did not circle artist.

I have interacted with these mediums on varying levels + for different lengths of time, yet they have each taught me so much. I've been inspired, challenged, encouraged, and delighted by them. Though I love these mediums, I don't necessarily feel married to them. "Artist," on the other hand, is an identifier I've always known to be permanent. I think I can marry that one -- no matter what season I'm in, I'll always be an artist of some sort. But no matter how much I dive into the mediums of photographer/painting/pottery, something in me isn't ready to say that's all I'll ever do. As an artist, I want to allow myself to go through phases and welcome the unknown.

Self Discovery: Three Rivers Deep

By Bobby Neel Adams

That being said, I think the way I live is a crucial identifier, too. The book mentions how it is often difficult to blend Christianity + art, so instead we begin to live in several subcultures. As I verbalized this reality, I saw how this makes sense. It's easier; it's simple. However, I don't think this is how I want to live. Since I left "Christian" and "artist" both un-circled on my list, shouldn't I let them harmoniously make up my identity?

The three images I've added into this post are images that I've admired + resonated with in various ways for about a year now. Each of them is somehow about identity/self discovery. Something I find particularly beautiful about these is the way they each capture layers of the human experience in one cohesive stand-alone images. I want my identity to be something like these images -- layered with meaning, yet all-there as a many-dimensional piece.

Why We Need Artists

I guess it's a pretty good question, "Why do we need artists?"

It's hard to understand what the world would be like without art -- it seems so naturally integrated with everything in existence, that I could hardly blame someone for feeling as if it's not so prominent. It's like the way I imagine being a fish. If I lived underwater, I bet I wouldn't really think of everything as wet.

If I lived in Spongebob's house, I highly doubt I'd be constantly thinking about the water around me. On land, I'm never that aware that I'm dry until I get wet. 

According to the book, something about the nature of life has meaning. There's a reason we're alive; and if that reason isn't explicitly tangible (or describable), there's still the unavoidable reality of meaning. And apparently that's why artists exist. Because when something in life is meaningful, and can't necessarily be described in words, we can still create.

Because of this, I don't think art necessarily needs to be defined. If God created meaning in this world but left us without the words to fully express it, I think he's able to delight in a little bit of mystery. In fact, maybe art is good when it can't be defined. Art that can't be defined provokes thoughts, conversation, intrigue, or emotion -- which, even if that emotion is very negative, means something.

One of Benjamin Cohen's paintings, which is an example of art that makes me feel something different every time I see it. 

The book also says, "when you experience the meaning of something, you need to praise it" (122). I think artists exist because in some capacity they can do this in a way no one else can. I believe artists are born with gifts that enable them to communicate for themselves, but also perhaps for others. The fact that we all interpret one painting differently seems to be evidence for this.

(One final thought I'm still chewing on from this chapter is that each of us is a leaf, and that together we make up a lovely, leafy tree. I love this idea, and I'm still sorting out what my leaf might be. I'd love to hear about yours...)

Craftsmanship + Beauty

These two chapters have possibly been the most difficult for me to read so far. . .  Not because of the language or ideas, but because something about them just feels stingy to me. After reading this chunk, I felt like I'd just heard a really cheesy sermon from an ultra conservative pastor.

However, there are some key points that I did appreciate and agree with:

• "Before the Fall a standard was set for the skilled mastering of the. . .'stuff' of creation'" (125). 

When God made the world, he made it WELL. He didn't skimp out on anything, not even us. There was beauty all around, and that was good. When I think about this, I'm so captivated by the image of our untainted earth -- but also of the remnants leftover which sing with evidence of God's reality (ex. things like the way light shines through leaves, and the ways the human body operates). Because of this, I realize that as a Christian artist there are high standards set for the work I do. It's not that what I make must be perfect, but that as I create I should hold myself to a standard which seeks perfection (if I am seeking to be like God). I believe I am called to interact respectfully with the materials I have access to. Page 139 says, "With every gift comes the requirement to use it well." 

• ". . .the Bible only speaks of God creating, never people" (128). 

I have to wonder, can we actually create something -- or are we simply rearranging creation? Everything on this earth (manmade or natural) is a product of whatever God first left for us. 

Therefore, when I create something I believe I'm simply imitating the act of creation which God first invented. I have to remind myself that whatever spark of creativity or original idea I have is something to praise God for, because he is the reason that part of my life can exist. I owe him all my thanks because he allows me to create with that which he first created, by shaping and combining substances in various ways. McCleary says, that if we wish to mimic God, we must do things well and that, ". . .we might find guidance for our own 'creations' by looking at aspects of His'" (129).

Mudshark Studios, making art out of natural materials from the earth (clay)

• "Your work will only be as good as the art you have seen over and over" (136).

An image by Ansel Adams, a great photographer I admire.

This point struck me pretty hard. During my time at Fox, I've experienced repeatedly the push to be following + connecting with other artists as consistently as possible. At first, it just seemed like a hassel. However, as I got through various art history classes and started forming a list (a very long list now) of artists I admire from prehistoric through contemporary eras, I have realized that my ability to see and create art well has drastically improved. I am constantly inspired by the work of others, and I have learned so much through my observations (as well as practice, of course). I think that it's crucial to be engaging with other work. 

An image by Vivian Meier, a photographer whose work I consistently study

Finally, to avoid getting too lengthy in this post, I'll just list one of the reasons I felt this bit of reading was contrived. After all the advice within these chapters, I still found myself asking: What is beautiful? What is magnificent? I felt that the book has a narrow view of beauty, claiming that Christian art has a standard someone detached from reality. However, I don't think beauty is as simple as the authors explain it.

This may seem strange, but this place (pictured below) is what revives me most.

Vaughn Bay, feat. the dock at my childhood home. Photo taken by me, summer 2015. 

It looks lovely in this photo, but this dock is actually real rickety (to the point where it may not actually be safe to walk on), often covered in seagull poo, and sprouting with splinters. The water is muggy and swirls with boat oil in the mornings, and its construction was paid for with stolen money. However, it's my symbol. More than anything else, this dock embodies by greatest insecurity, truest joy, deepest regret, and strongest sense of identity. It's tainted with my extended family's strange history, but I absolutely adore it.

The thing is, it wasn't constructed well. It wasn't created by Christians, and I'm one of the few Christians who truly admires it. According to the book, I don't feel like the authors would be able to call it beautiful. But if I had to label one object on earth as beautiful, this might be it. So I guess I just feel a little unsettled, like I've been shut down by a close-minded evangelical or something. 

Artist Interview: Rachel Rudeen

I've always admired Rachel Rudeen, partly because we have so much in common -- we both resort to the mediums of photography and clay, and are/were both on the early graduation track at George Fox. Rudeen graduated from Fox in the winter of 2013. Though she's not too much further along in her art journey than I am, I thought it'd be interesting + encouraging to interview a Christian artist who directly understands my current season of life. After speaking with her, I felt inspired + grateful to be a part of this community and to be following a legacy like hers.

In our interview, I asked Rachel to discuss four topics: her art background, her art philosophy, what she hopes to say through her art, and living as a Christian artist in a secular world. Here's some of what she had to say...

Background: 
Rachel is the daughter of a creative woman who encouraged her children to play with their hands. As Rachel grew, she started attending a tiny school which only offered one art class -- her favorite class. She experimented with as many mediums as possible (drawing, painting, ceramics, batik, printmaking, etc). Unfortunately, during this season of life she felt that her limited exposure to more advanced classes would hinder her potential for success in college. She admitted it was largely due to the professors at Fox that her fears eventually subsided.

Art philosophy: 
There are two ideas that Rudeen holds close about art: that it can bring people together + enrich their interactions with each other; and that it can be translated into something which is accessible for everyone.

From Rudeen's Senior Show, "Marrow," which focused on creating community through clay. 

She said, "Community became very important to me while at Fox, and I believe art can truly foster and deepen community - whether through creating together, experiencing art together, or simply spending time with and learning from other artists." In our conversation, she emphasized her believe that communities lacking in art are missing something truly important. She believes that art can communicate in ways we can't otherwise -- it can speak "across cultures, challenge the status quo, and point to something greater than oneself."

An example of Rudeen's photography.

She also talked about how she feels that creating art is a way she can fulfill God's purpose for her. She believes we all were born with gifts we must foster. Since God is the ultimate creator and artist, Rudeen believes that we all have the capacity to be an artist of some form. Some of Rudeen's greatest role models (people she sees as "artists") are "great listeners, parents, teachers, and scientists. These people lead their lives with integrity and honesty, they have discovered their talents, and they actively practice and improve those talents to make an impact in the lives around them."

What she hopes to say with her art: 
Rudeen longs for her work to bring about action. She believes deeply in the ability art has to foster community, and that's what she seeks with her own creations. She said, "I want my ceramics to bring people together and enrich events that may otherwise be considered mundane. I try to create vessels that spark conversation, evoke contemplation, and ultimately deepen relationships." Similarly, what she loves about photography is the opportunity it presents to connect with people. She loves being a part of special moments in the lives of others, and takes joy in documenting those seasons. Aside from this, she admits that working with clay + cameras is simply something that allows her to escape and recover from her full-time office job. Ultimately, she said, "my art evolves around bringing people together!"

Rachel Rudeen Handcrafted Mug

Life as a Christian artist in a secular world: 
Rudeen currently works at KU, a large, secular university where she can interact with non-christian artists regularly. Despite her differing religious beliefs, she says she still finds joy in connecting with those she sees on a regular basis and she finds that she can often draw artistic inspiration from them. She said, "I try to have meaningful conversations with the graduate students in an effort to honestly get to know them, which I have come to value. There is so much I can learn from them, and I have taken the approach of trying to do so while staying true to my beliefs and keeping the integrity of my work.



Overall, I'm so thankful for this conversation with Rachel Rudeen. She is an alum who continues to inspire me by not only being a wonderful artist, but also a wonderful person.

Goodness

This first bit of It Was Good Making Art to the Glory of God  has challenged me to think freshly about goodness, and I'm feeling sort of excited about that. Over the course of the semester, I've found myself back and forth on my beliefs regarding art philosophy, so bear with me as I sway like a pendulum and try to sort out my thoughts once again. . .

During Art Talk this week, visiting artist Monika Meler shared an excerpt of a letter from Sol Lewitt to Eva Hesse. In the letter, Lewitt advises Hesse: 

"Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping... Stop it and just DO!... 

Letter from Sol Lewitt to Eva Hesse

Don't worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world. If you fear, make it work for you - draw and paint your fear and anxiety... 

You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO! 

Try to do some BAD work - the worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell - you are not responsible for the world - you are only responsible for your work - so DO IT. And don't think that your work has to conform to any preconceived form, idea, or flavor. It can be anything you want it to be... 

I know that you (or anyone) can only work so much and the rest of the time you are left with your thoughts. But when you work or before your work you have to empty your mind and concentrate on what you are doing. After you do something it is done and that's that. After a while you can see some are better than others but also you can see what direction you are going. I'm sure you know all that. You also must know that you don't have to justify your work - not even to yourself." 

What I love most about all this advice is how freeing it is. Lewitt suggests that there's something inherently GOOD in simply making - even without a plan or thought or audience in mind. What he ultimately admits is that making art is important, regardless of what it is. And that's an idea I think I can be on board with; but I have to admit I'm still feeling somewhat hesitant. . . 

In Exodus 31:1, the Lord calls Bezalel and Oholiab to become makers. Even in the second book of the Bible, making art is already important. It's a task God created, and therefore it is good to do.

But while it may be good to make for the sake of making alone, I tend to think there's something even more to strive for. Page 13 of It Was Good  says, ". . .with a God who finds nothing impossible, even an ass can be made to speak truth." 

It's that word, "truth," that I get hung up on. I believe that if God created this earth, then at the core of it it is GOOD. He created this world carefully + intentionally, adding intricacies and details we can hardly come close to understanding. But, thanks to the Fall, that goodness was + is easily tainted + bent when we let our sinful nature puts its spin on things. However, that doesn't mean that goodness no longer exists. It's that word "truth" that I think is key in all this. Perhaps, in order for something to be GOOD it must portray some truth(?).

Backing up to Lewitt again, I think there's truth in the goodness of making for the sake of making. And then speeding forward to Meler's own work, I think there's truth in the way she explores her Polish roots through printmaking:

Monika Meler: Pusto/Sucho diffused relief paint 

As the book suggests, "For those called to truly be imitators of the Creator. . . they need to be good, do good and make good" (17).

So if there's anything I know, it's that goodness is good. As a Jesus lover, goodness is something I should strive for in my morals and lifestyle and permeate into all of my aesthetic/artistic endeavors.

Sources:
It Was Good Making Art to the Glory of God
Sol Lewitt to Eva Hesse
Monika Meler: Gallery Shoal Creek