by Gary Bradley and Donald McGilchrist
 
Long before men could articulate their ideas in written form they captured the divine experience, the mysterious, with art. Cave paintings, rituals, voice sounds, instrumental sounds and gestures were among the many attempts to convey the
abstract.
 
In “Art: A New History,” Paul Johnson writes, “The first point to grasp is the immense fecundity of humans producing objects of art.” It’s arguable that art predated not only writing but that it was closely associated with the ordering instinct which makes society possible, and therefore, that it has always been essential to human happiness.
“The artist was the first professional,” says Mr. Johnson.
 
It’s fascinating how God could have so trusted the spirit and ordering instinct of man to engage in His truth and convey the spirit of it to his neighbor. One wonders, “Why didn’t God invent structured writing ‘in the beginning’ so there would never be error about those mysterious eternal essences?” Somewhere in the human spirit there emerges a longing to express the divine artistically. Perhaps error was not God’s big concern with man.
 
What role did Christendom play in celebrating and/or crushing the iconographic urge?
For, to represent God in form through the arts seems to be inevitable, irresistible.
 
As I reflected upon the verses below, it thrilled me to see that God has entrusted the revelation of His being, though the ages, to the hands and hearts of those who longed to see Him.
 
“God, after He spoke long ago…in many ways…in these last days has spoken to us in His Son…through whom also He made the world…And [the Son] is the radiance of His glory and the exact representation of His nature, and upholds all things by the word of His power …” Hebrews 1:1-3
 
Apaugasma (a- pow’-gas-mah); Greek word that expresses the visual radiance from a source; or effulgence: brilliant light radiating from something.
 
This has helped me to see that through both the written word and art, and many other ways, the radiance of the Divine shines forth and is seen.
 
What has been the history of the church in lifting up the works of the artist to express  such radiance? But more importantly: What will our role be in this endeavor? Have we paid so dear a price in our pursuit of error free living that we have placed the artist at the rear of the room of truth?

from Gary Bradley

A few days ago, I was reading in the holy book about the redemptive power of excellence. I observed that the word ‘excellence’ occurs five times in the New Testament and that each time the idea is connected to “Character” or “Virtue.”

I find this important because I see that art makers are at their best when character, competence, and a Kingdom vision are connected. Perhaps the restorative power of excellence is tied up in our character, what do you think?

A friend of mine, Keith Meyer, responded to this question with this statement:
“Eastern Orthodox Icon Writers…must have accomplished apprenticeship both in the writing of Icons and in the spirituality that the Icon represents…in other words…their works of excellence must have involved character to write (…they considered the bible to be just another form of art, or an icon, in words and letters).

This summer we will have a good time exploring this idea along with the delight of entering into the art of our friends.

We hope you can join us!
Gary Bradley

 
it’s like
cloth that covers
my eyes
and stills my hands
my heart is beating
but no one sees
You stand before me
I see

by Kathy Berklund-Pagé

     Three weeks into the process of preparing our home to go on the market, we live in chaos as larger repairs eclipse the small upgrades we had planned. Exhaust fans and banisters are no longer up to code. Accessing bathroom lights required removing a kitchen cabinet. When my husband checked a pipe behind the toilet, it burst, spewing water in all directions.

     Part of me—the purely rational, objective part—can laugh, but I’m also aware of a growing franticness. As I poke about in the feeling, I find that house frustrations are only the top layer. A tangled jumble of fears and worries lie beneath. The unknowness of where we will live and work next . . . the teenaged children I must set free to choose their own paths . . . the realization that I no longer hear the characters in my novel talking to each other, or to me. Have they moved away, feeling neglected and offended? Or are they still there, their words lost in the cacophony of other voices shrieking for my attention?

     In both my novel and my real life, I find myself increasingly tight and retreated, with a deep desire to control events and people. Where is the oasis the core of my being needs for passion, love, and imagination, to be released? I ache for something, someone bigger than me, to be bedrock for my heart to rest on.

     I could go to God. But if I do, will I find my creator to be enough?

by Elizabeth Webb

Sometimes you slip on the ice a little.  Sometimes you climb that mountain feeling like nothing can slow your stride.  The ice has been a little dangerous lately, but being the survivor that I guess I am, what can I do but keep trying to climb that mountain, cross that impossible river and keep walking through this fire.  Just gotta keep walking and slipping and forever falling because the minute I think I can walk upright without anyone’s help is the day that I deny the very thing that allows me to stand at all.  Beyond the smoke and mirrors of this life is the truth that none of us can stand on our own.  Not one.  Not me.  Not one.

Robert Cousins, Executive Editor of The Dartmouth Apologia, has just released a review of VAF’s film on Romanian sculptor, Liviu Mocan, in their latest issue. He writes:

The film alternates segments of voiceover—mostly by Mocan—and interviews with family members, scholars and other citizens who have been affected by his art. It opens with a brief sequence in which Mocan introduces himself and his philosophy toward art and Christianity. “I am a sculpture,” he says, and as the ensuing twenty-six minutes emphasize over and over again, he is a man who considers his life, his faith and his art inextricably linked.

Hundreds of people have seen this film and we have received many positive comments and praise. Film makers, visual artist, poets and several other artist have found strong identification with this film. Click here if you would like to read the full review in the latest Dartmouth Apologia.

In the past week a number of people have called to order copies for friends at Christmas. We all know that finding just the right gift is not easy. So here is a great opportunity to find just the right gift and to also help us in the distribution of our message–calling out a generation of “artists who are excellent at their craft, have the respect of their peers, and are an example of redemptive living in the creative professions.”

If you would like a copy (or more) simply send a check made payable to Via Affirmativa for $16.95 to:

Trish Schneider
3210 36th Ave S
Minneapolis MN 55406

(we offer a 10% discount for orders of five or more copies)

by Larry Cole

“What is this strange compulsion? Are there others out there like me?” I ask myself these questions on a semi-regular basis. I am talking about this overwhelming desire to alter everything I come into contact with. This phenomenon has become brutally apparent as my wife and I are working through a remodel of our home.

We have now spent significantly more on the remodel of our home than we spent to buy our home just seven years ago. We are ripping out perfectly good toilets, countertops, light fixtures, doorknobs, etc, all in the name of personal preference. This isn’t our first journey down this slippery slope either. We have been through the exact same situation with multiple cars, home furnishings, children’s toys, motorcycles, etc. I don’t know if the problem is a “designer thing,” an “art thing,” or just a Larry Cole thing. But I do know that it is definitely a real thing.

The truth is that I can’t leave anything stock or as-is. If it can simply be purchased off-the-shelf, than that just aint gonna cut it! I have to paint, faux finish, embellish, reinforce, modify, electroplate, alter, and ultimately improve everything. Luckily, I have a very patient spouse who allows me to do my creative thing. For the most part, I even think she generally enjoys the results. In fact, maybe I have rubbed off on her because she owns and drives a 1995 GMC Suburban with an air ride suspension, smoothed exterior, 18” jet black rims, custom emblems, with a somewhat less than stock motor under the hood. Yes, that is correct, that is my dear wife’s grocery-getter.

I find myself modifying everything I touch. In my art gallery I painted all the electrical outlets, covers and light switches. I made my own floor molding out of galvanized metal, and I personally rewired all the lighting in the entire gallery. If that weren’t enough, I designed my own light boxes to backlight my front signage and had a friend of mine make the boxes based on a prototype I fabricated.

I find myself up all hours of the night researching, investigating, and designing my own creative solutions for everything. I utilized rain gutters and down spouts as wire management devices in my office. I am currently working on a medicine cabinet, which will slide directly out of the wall in my master bathroom. I used industrial hanging hooks for curtain tie-backs in my bedroom and a piece electrical industrial superstrut for a hanging rod in my wife’s new cedar closet. Long story short, I just won’t be satisfied unless I leave a wake of change behind me as I travel through life on planet earth.

Am I the only one that suffers from Obsessive Creative Disorder? I hope not. Did you have to buy a kiln because you simply could not settle for off-the-shelf dinnerware? Maybe you purchased a perfectly good vase so you could break it and glue it all back together in a less than perfect way. I surely hope that I am not alone in this insatiable desire to change the universe one can of Krylon at a time.