Having served my mission in Ireland, I am familiar with the Catholic iconography that is present in many of their Churches. Having been raised Mormon I am familiar with the critical attitude toward these types of statues and paintings; and yet as I surveyed these works of art, some of them had a real impact upon me. Statues of the lacerated Jesus or of the dying Jesus or the crucified Jesus forced me to hold back tears for fear of embarrassment. Even a bust of the Virgin Mary moved me deeply. I sensed that it is a real loss to Mormon culture that we do not readily engage with these products of devotion.

Much of the LDS art that I have seen of Jesus seems banal and insipid. We see a calm, collected and/or kind Jesus; and yet he is rarely depicted in any of the extremes of suffering or joy that was surely part of the humanity of his life. I am aware of exceptions; but even these pail in insignificance to what these Spanish artists created. I believe that Jesus was, at times calm, collected and kind; but I also believe he experienced the full range of human emotions (good and bad). I believe his model for living was abundance.

More confusing to me is that the LDS ‘Lamb of God’ video is different. It makes an explicit attempt to evoke this type of passionate response in the audience by alluding to the vicious suffering of Jesus. Why is it that film is more acceptable as a means of presenting this kind of devotional material? Is this merely a cultural distinction, an anti-catholic hangover from Nineteenth century America, and if so is it not about time that we extend Priesthood legitimacy to all worthy forms of Art.

Perhaps Eugene England was right when he said that Mormons do not experience the ‘tragic’ as frequently as others because of the success of our religion, but I doubt it.

Yet this raises another question, why do we need to use these different media to help us connected with Jesus and his suffering. Are we more able to sense the visceral reality of his wounds if they are shown to us? Can we more easily believe in the atonement if we can see the suffering of Christ? If this is so, would not these type of ‘passion’ iconography be a useful medium to help latter-day Saints explore their relationship to our Lord?

Perhaps Mormons need to more fully explore the spiritual artistic heritages that are rooted in other faiths as well as trying to promote our own. I certainly feel that my faith has been enriched by some of what our extended Christian heritage has produced.

Of his work, Kapoor says, ‘Just as you can’t set out to make something beautiful, you can’t set out to make something spiritual.  What you can do is recognise that it may be there.  It normally has something to do with not having too much to say.  There seems to be space for the viewer, and is sometimes something we identify as being spiritual.  And it is all about space.’

Kapoor is concerned with the community that art can generate.  In fact the size of his later sculptures suggest a desire to encourage this shared experience.  Think of Chicago’s ‘magic bean’.  Or my favourite ‘The Farm’ in New Zealand.  In my mind this something remarkably similar to what is ‘spiritual’ for me.  It is in the sharing and simultaneous experience of love, spirit and honesty that binds people to another and to God.

Speaking about Kapoor’s work, Homi Bhabha has said that ‘you are always on the edge between what you know and what you don’t know’.  Interestingly Kapoor believes his work captures something similar.  He says that ‘making work is about daring to go where I don’t know and hoping that in going to where I don’t know, you, the viewer, can go somewhere you don’t know either’.

To the right is a statue of the First Vision.  Actually, I kind of like this one, although I’m not a fan of the medium the artist used.

This one is from Jesus’ little-known Sermon in Stepford.  Much discussion has been had elsewhere about the problematic placement of the rose and whether this is supposed to be a picture of Jesus with his polygamous wives.  The artist has apparently denied that interpretation, but without an explanation of the phallic rose.

A Moroni tree-topper.  Not exactly art, but kitschy.  It’s almost so bad that it’s good in a Nebraska salt and pepper shaker way.

This Nativity inspired painting is both beautiful and thought-provoking.

This toothy-grinned Jesus is not nearly as good as its unsmiling counterpart.  This picture doesn’t make Jesus look very smart, IMO.  Like he didn’t get the joke, but he’s laughing anyway.

This just looks like it belongs in a mini golf course to me.  Art?  Really?  Was this before wide-spread adoption of the Word of Wisdom?  Just plain weird.

This painting of the sacred grove always looks like it was inspired by the Redwood Forest rather than anything actually growing in upstate NY.  Accuracy aside, though, it’s nice enough with the effect of the light filtering through the trees.

This tattooed man (those are prophets’ portraits on his back) spells one word to me:  “devotion.”  I’d like to see him add one of E. Oaks since the “no tattoos” pronouncement.

I like this more Art Deco version of Moroni, although that trumpet looks a little bit improbable, like a straightened ear horn or gramophone.  Or a yard-long beer.

I have also noticed that many other religions seem to like our Jesus pictures, particularly these two:

 and

So, what do you think?  What Mormon artists do you like and which ones do you not like?  Why is there so much bad taste in Mormon art (kitschy or weird stuff) or is this just true of all religious art?  Is it because that’s what sells or is that blaming the victims?  Or does religious feeling inspire otherwise unskilled and inartistic people to create “art”?

Do you disagree with any of the above artistic assessments (beauty being in the eye of the beholder and all)?

Discuss.

This is not the point of my post here, though. I recently had a conversation with my fiancee about Rastafarianism, mentioning that Rastas believe that Jesus Christ was black. I admitted that, though I personally don’t see much evidence for that, I did concede that Jesus probably looked very different than what most Mormons envision.

A lot of new Mormon art depicts a very clean, good-looking Christ. There is “beauty, that we may desire him.” Here’s an example from a very popular artist among Latter-day Saints, Simon Dewey:

I’ve always preferred the depictions of Christ done by Harry Anderson. They seemed marginally more authentic to me than the newer, “shinier” depictions of a Christ who had, apparently, full access to conditioner, a washing machine, a toothbrush, a nice hairbrush, etc.

However, even Anderson’s paintings have a “familiar” feel to them. Most portrayals of Christ that I see in our meetinghouses follow the same general pattern: Christ is medium-to-tall height, has a generally thinnish build, very Caucasian-looking, has a full head of long hair, a beard. He has a long face, a long, thin nose (what you’d call a “Roman” nose), robes and sandals. He is generally a handsome man.

I’ve always mused to myself on the possibilities of what Christ truly looked like. Could he have been short? Prematurely bald? Could he have been missing teeth? Could he have looked more like George Costanza from Seinfeld?

Furthermore, Christ is generally portrayed as Caucasian in our artwork, but we know he was a Jew. I’ve almost thought numerous times that the only one of Christ’s Twelve Apostles in paintings that looks “Jewish” (according to the stereotype generally pushed in the American media) is Judas Iscariot, who can be seen cruelly and evilly clutching his money bag. Interesting. So was Christ white? Did he look “Jewish”? Did he look like an Arab? How jarring would it be to the average, white, Mormon American to see a (hypothetical) photograph of Christ in mortality that looked like he could be Osama bin Laden’s brother?

We only have passing clues in the scriptures as to what he looked like in mortality, and a couple interesting details about the post-mortal Christ from Joseph Smith. There is, of course, a famous “Mormon Urban Legend” about the accuracy of this piece of artwork:

This depiction of Christ is rather racially ambiguous. He has a slightly darker (ruddy?) complexion and hair that could “go either way.” It’s an interesting depiction to say the least, especially considering the debunked mythology surrounding its supposed accuracy.

However, I’ve found that I can forgive the white bread, homogenous view of Christ in our artwork for a couple reasons.

I’ve gleaned from a few sources on the Internet some diverse pictures of Christ. Images of Christ painted by black artists and displayed in predominantly black churches may be black. Here is an example I actually found quite touching, called Black Jesus Blesses the Children, by Joe Cauchi:

I love how the Black Jesus in this picture looks so determined, and he has a definite look of determination as he blesses the children. It’s as if he’s searching the distance for danger as he embraces them. The protection portrayed in this image is just as real to me, and represents the Christ I know, as tangibly as any “white” picture I’ve seen. I want Christ to protect me like he’s protecting these children.

Images of Christ painted by Asian artists may have Asian skin-tone and characteristics. Here is a Chinese example from the 1800s:

I think many people and artists might tell you that this is more for comfort and familiarity rather than an attempt at being historically accurate. So it would make sense for a white artist living in a white culture (like Utah, or in a broader sense, Mormonism) to depict Christ as a being who would “fit in.”

It is also useful for artists to have a common language for images such as Christ, and it is not useful to have images of Christ that are difficult to identify. If an artist wishes to paint Christ, say, teaching a group of people, how can he communicate without words the identity of the Teacher in his painting? There were many teachers in the scriptures: Paul, Ammon, Elijah, Enoch, etc., so a painting of a man with his mouth open, teaching other people by itself may not clearly identify the Teacher. It’s useful to be able to look at a new painting and say, “Hey, it’s a picture of Christ.”

Therefore, to me, the image of Christ is, of course, a symbol. It is a symbol in the same way that a Cross is a symbol, or the Angel Moroni is a symbol. It is one of the many pictures that we use in our religious language to communicate ideas, and it’s a useful one. However, as the Church grows, we will continue to adapt to new symbols and new images.

So, questions.

The LDS faith is now moving to many new countries across the world, and is being embraced by many ethnicities and cultures, nationalities and skin colors. Will we one day see Latino Christs in our temples? Asian Christs? Black Christs? If we admit that our image of Christ is just a symbol, would we allow a painting of a black Christ in an African temple? What about the Logan Temple?

Do we marginalize minorities in the Church by portraying a white Christ?

Is it “wrong” to portray a Christ that is probably historically inaccurate?

What are the hallmarks of a great novel?

• Plot.  There must be conflict.  There has to be a climax and a denouement.
• Character development.  Characters have to be full human beings, warts and all, with flaws and redeeming qualities.  Protagonists must change over the course of the novel.
• Themes.  A great novel will speak to the range of human experience through themes that transcend time and culture.
• Courage.  An author of a great novel has to be willing to speak unsavory truths, to look into the abyss, and to expose vulnerabilities (both his/her own and those of his/her subject).
• Novelty.  “There’s nothing new under the sun” as it says in Ecclesiastes, but a great novel has to feel fresh anyway.  It has to say something better than those who have said it before.

What prevents a novel from being great (aside from just bad writing)?

• Censorship.  The opposite of courage (in writing) is censorship, whether it is self-censorship or by others.  Having one eye on public relations creates a casualty of courage.  Without courage, topics like sexuality, violence, and even the topic of censorship itself can be omitted or glossed over.  This can result in a work that is toothless, gutless and crotchless.
• Superficiality.  Creating inauthentic or two-dimensional characters, or focusing solely on the characters or themes with weak plot development can result in a work that lacks depth.  Creating depth requires having depth; in some ways, Mormons spend our lives trying to avoid depth.  We know there is a “dark side” to humanity, and we stay as far away from it as we can.  Writers have to write about what they know, and if you don’t know the depths of your soul, it’s hard to write about that convincingly.

The ”great Mormon novel” has the added difficulty of subject matter.  If you are writing a Mormon novel (in the sense that Graham Greene wrote Catholic novels or Chaim Potok wrote Jewish novels), your novel will have Mormon themes.  If your novel is to have depth, it must cover the range of human experience, both the good and the bad.  And in so doing, there will likely be elements that are both loyal and disloyal to the church.  Those elements of disloyalty (even characters with internal conflict) can cause self-censorship as well as censorship (discouragement) by the group.

So, let’s talk about Twilight.  Twilight is an enormously popular book with a specific target audience.  It is a huge success by most measures.  I don’t think anyone would credibly argue it has a permanent place in the canon of literature, so it is not really up for consideration as “The Great Mormon Novel.”  But how Mormon is it?  This is a question being debated here.  A few opposing viewpoints that were shared (you can read the comments in their entirety in the link):

Andrew Oh-Willeke said:  “One way to read the story allegorically is that the Cullen’s (the good vampire family, if you weren’t paying attention) are the Mormons. They, given the free will to choose between right and wrong in this world have chosen virtue and abstinance despite temptation, in their diet, and in how they choose to love. . . There are also strong associations in the books between vampires and angels, mirroring the importance of angels in LDS scripture. The vampires are described as seraphic, and glimmer in the sun. They aren’t necessarily angels themselves, but are close to angels.  [I]t is a story full of LDS dog whistles.”

Mormon Soprano retorts:  “I submit to you that Meyer’s books are the antithesis of Mormon doctrine, and should be disturbing to any faithful active member. . . Just reading these books causes erotic thoughts and feelings because of what the characters are doing to and with each other. . .  Stephanie Meyer’s books are such a big hit with “the world” because they are titilating. . . The tragedy to me is that Meyer is continually referred to as “Mormon” and “LDS”, and her books have been given a free pass to sell at Deseret Book and Segull Book stores.  Please wake up out of your vampire trances my Twilight friends! There is nothing “lovely or praiseworthy or of good report” to be found in these books or movie. Faithful latter-day Saints need to send a message that lowered standards are never acceptable. My advice is to Stop buying these books, send a letter of complaint to LDS booksellers, and refuse to spend your money in support of this new movie!

These comments go to the heart of the difficulty for Mormon authors.  A Mormon’s work will be dissected for Mormon content and either praised or villified on that basis.  While Andrew’s argument states that the books are a Mormon allegory, Mormon Soprano finds the message in conflict with Mormon teachings.  So, what’s the answer?

Can LDS authors write books that contradict Mormon teachings?  Every Mormon author has to grapple with that question, and it is at heart a question of censorship, either by the group or by the author him/herself.  Authors who fear reprisal for their words, even their fictional words, will never write “The Great Mormon Novel.”

The first and most obvious thing is the corporeal depiction of God.  The ethereal and bodiless nature of God had long since been accepted as true Catholic Doctrine since the council of Nicaea, yet Michelangelo shows us a physical bearded man surrounded by children.  While Mormon doctrine does suggest divine attributes that transcend the bounds of physical and biological scopes, a fundamental tenant of the faith is that God possesses a physical and resurrected body.  Also, in the “Creation of Adam” panel, we see a woman under God’s left arm, who we very well may assume is Eve, “on deck” to be created herself.  The way this is presented strongly implies the concept of a pre-existence; that Eve existed in a non-earthly state before her physical creation.

Several scholars have noted that the shape of the cloth behind God and his entourage is a very accurate silhouette of the human brain.  Mormons might easily draw the connection, “the Glory of God is Intelligence (D&C 93: 36),” an idea that certainly would not fare well with the Catholic church of the era. (Galileo?)

Going backwards one panel, we can examine the creation of the universe.  God the Father is prominently featured commanding the elements to organize, perhaps in a “Let there be light” moment.  Joining him on his right is a young child, who is very likely a depiction of the antemortal Christ.  If this is true, then Michelangelo is telling us that Christ had a collaborative role in the creation.  This idea finds support in Mormon teachings (as well as Biblical support) but does not jive well with many doctrinal proposals of Catholicism and Protestant Christianity, who conjecture that spirits are created at conception, and have no premortal existence.

If we look closely at the face depicted between God and Christ, it seems that the painting job is not finished.  There seems to be no top of the head, and facial detail is in large part lacking.  It has however, been suggested that this face is the same face as Adam’s:

If this is true, most temple going Mormons should immediately catch the significance of having God, Jesus and Adam, a.k.a. Elohim, Jehovah, and Michael, jointly involved in the creative process.

If we look at the wall, where the magnificent “Last Judgment” scene is, we see a depiction of the bodily resurrection:

Mormons would typically be comfortable with the way the resurrection is shown here, but I can image that a few Catholics and evangelicals might be squeamish.

I suppose this doesn’t prove anything, really.  Michelangelo never made any prophetic claims, so no corroborative conclusions could be made if his version of these events match up with those of prophets who were informed through revelation.  However, it does make one wonder, if Michelangelo was really a product of his time and culture, where did he get these ideas from?  It would seem quite unlikely that he got them from the Pope, but who knows, the Pope may have been more independently inspired than we give him credit for!  Or perhaps Michelangelo himself was tuned in to a spiritual frequency that gave him some kind of inspiration  and enlightenment.

To be fair, there is much depicted in the Sistine Chapel that is completely at odds with Mormon teachings, like angels with wings, etc.  In fact, Michelangelo felt compelled to use his last ceiling panel to feature “The Drunkenness of Noah,” a very unflattering and embarrassing episode in a prophet’s life, the likes of which most Mormons would rather just keep buried in the dusty unread pages of the Old Testament.

No matter what, most people will agree that the art of the Sistine Chapel has untold cultural and historical value.  It stands at a testament to the strength of the European Church of the time, and illustrates the power and timeless nature of the Biblical narrative.  And given the way that many of the stories are portrayed, Mormons should be able to get added enjoyment from it.

]]> http://mormonmatters.org/2008/06/29/michelangelo-and-mormonism/feed/ 18