Has he retreated to the safer places for conventional religious art, like above an altar or in the carefully crafted designs of church kneelers? Is he buried somewhere in the easy appropriation of sign and symbol, or Biblical reference? Does he speak through artists’ attempts to reference the spiritual, even if they don’t know what they mean? Did we lose him altogether back in the old pre-modern days?
I’d like in my research to attempt to answer these questions by way of artists who refer to explicitly religious themes in their work, particularly from/of the Judaeo-Christian faith since this is the obvious blind spot in the eye of Western art tradition. Along the way, I’m anticipating the following possible design:
The thesis. Modernism set art on a pedestal, institutionalised the art gallery and lends to the whole sphere of fine or high art a lingering ‘bogus religiosity’ (to quote John Berger). The artist, the gallery, the work replace the priest, the temple and the icon (James Elkins). What vestiges of the sacred does modernism still carry forward, even as it has unquestionably rejected the faith-filled worldview? Can religious art ‘do’ representation of its subject at all given the self-reflexive turn that defined the progression of early twentieth-century isms (impressionism, cubism, abstract expressionism etc.)
The antithesis. Postmodernism attempted to deconstruct the pedestal and in some ways (but not others) art devolved to the irreligious in pop art, op art, minimalism etc. If there was a landslide of signs and symbols, a linguistic turn (Richard Rorty) where certainties melted and in religion where anything goes, are we now at a level playing-field for religious art to be able to dissolve dogma and embrace the end of form? Is such work suddenly super-spiritual everywhere at once?
- The synthesis. Twenty-first century art isn’t afraid to look the Bible in the eye any more: exhibitions and cathedral residencies or commissions (including international celebrations of the KJV anniversary) and films/TV shows (The Passion, The Nativity) are increasingly frequent. Where is the locus for faith in these examples, and others that are less explicit, and what might this say about the latent theology that is carried in such work? Is it possible now to talk about religion and art in such a way as to honour both, without cheapening or nullifying the history of either?
Your comments are welcome!