Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Focus

The last time my fiancée, Rachael, and I met with the pastor who will be marrying us, Brian Milford, the pastor passed along a copy of Mircea Eliade’s “The Sacred and the Profane: The Nature of Religion.” He told me that he had been thinking a lot about the book after he saw the staged reading of my play “Holy Schmidt.” I started reading the book today, taking a break from “The Brothers Karamazov,” and I came across a passage that pushed my ideas for the play NddTG further. First off, I think I will be calling the play “All Grace” for now. That sounds like a great title to me on many levels. Anyway, the passage that hit me was this:

“For a believer, the church shares in a different space from the street in which it stands. The door that opens on the interior of the church actually signifies a solution of continuity. The threshold that separates the two spaces also indicates the distance between the two modes of being, the profane and the religious. The threshold is the limit, the boundary, the frontier that distinguishes and opposes two worlds – and at the same time the paradoxical place where these worlds communicate, where passage from the profane to the sacred world becomes possible.” (Eliade 25)

So, I thought about the doorway of the church. What is striking about the entrance of NDdTG? Fernand Leger’s façade mosaic. This striking and beautiful, colorful and vibrant work of art. I started to consider Leger’s place in the play: How does he fit in with my ideas concerning Lipchitz? What is the connection. It astounded me how simple and obvious the answer was: The subject matter. Both the works by Leger and Lipchitz depict the Virgin Mary. Lipchitz is not the nucleus of the play! MARY IS! D’oh! It was right there in front of my face. I can’t believe I missed it in my last post as I discussed the role of Mary in the church! I’ve decided to focus on the creation of the works of art that concern Mary. What is so beautiful about these works of art is that one was created by an outsider (Lipchitz), while the other was created by a man who had been heavily involved with the Church that he rebelled against it. Leger was a communist and not afraid to be vocal about it and often spoke out against the Church. The mere fact that Couturier convinced Leger to create the façade is a miracle. The two discussed the possibility of working together on a “great work” (Rubin 116). This all took place in America as they were in exile by the war.

In my mind, there is a scene where Leger comes face to face with the blank wall of the church. It is documented that Leger proclaimed, “At last, a wall” (Rubin 118). He begins to plan his work around the challenging structure: pillars, roof, windows. He is approached by a woman, carrying roses. They speak together for a time.

I’ve decided this play shouldn’t be completely narrative. I’m not going to tell the story of the creation of the church, and it may not be told linearly. I want episodes. I want a bit of “spiritual” help in the form of Mary. I don’t know whether to call her “Mary” in the script or not. My feeling is that it should be ambiguous whether or not the woman is really there or if she is a collective figment. Who hears her? Who speaks to her? How does she interact with them?

I have another scene in my mind of Father Couturier and Father Devemy (Father Devemy actually started the project to build the Church) speaking together about creating the art for the church. Mary sits with them, in conference with them, deciding the course of action.

I’m slowly starting to think of this play as smaller than I first thought. At first, I thought this should be a grand, epic play with many characters, lights, and huge backdrops. Now, I’m starting to see a smaller scale, but with the characters having time to breathe. Perhaps this is a shorter play. I feel the need to do more research into the personal lives of Leger and Lipchitz before I can actually begin crafting the play. I feel I’m on the verge of beginning this play.

Friday, May 27, 2005

Friday Thoughts

Couturier: "[Christian art should be resurrected by geniuses who happen also to be saints], but under actual conditions, since men of this kind do not exist... it would be safer to turn to geniuses without faith than to believers without talent" (Rubin 68-69)

Couturier (Quoting St. Augustine): "Many are outside who believe themselves to be within, and many are within who believe themselves to be without" (Rubin 69)

Bryan Moore, who has been helping me with research and discussions, told me earlier this week that I should be ready to start writing some scenes. Maybe a monologue or two, just to see where my thinking is. I started to consider this today, wondering what scene I could possibly write.

In rereading the story of the evolution of Lipchitz's Virgin created for the baptismal font of NDdTG, I am struck with the feeling that Lipchitz might be my nucleus. While reading "The Brothers Karamazov" today, my mind fluttered around and, for some reason, rested on the New York subway system. Why? I'm not sure. It was my curiosity and fear of the subway, my own personal reflections on the subway and New York life that had created my first play, "Dialogues with Lars." The NYC subway was a place of spirituality, of rebirth, and of sacredness. The story of Lipchitz's creation of the Virgin discusses how he had a "vision" on the subway in NYC in 1948. He was so moved by this vision that he took out an address book, the only paper in his pocket, and sketched what would become the basic foundation of the sculpture. In my thinking about this play, I've been "seeing" that scene onstage. It is the only scene that I can "see." The subway. An older man. A sudden apparition. Inspiration.

What is this apparition? Is it Jesus Christ? God Himself? I've been toying around with a celestial body being in the play, interacting with the others. Then, it hit me. Mary. The Virgin Mary. She's the namesake of the Church. She has the greatest representations in NDdTG, (on the facade of the Church, in the Lipchitz sculpture). It should be her. She should be Lipchitz's vision. Not in the visions of tradition- in a blaze of light and carrying roses, but a woman in the clothes of the 40's. A nice dress, maybe even pants. Maybe carrying roses? That strikes me as an important link. Roses. She's selling roses on the subway. She sits next to Lipchitz. What are they talking about? Perhaps nothing of consequence, but she strikes a nerve. And as she gets off the subway, leaving Lipchitz alone, he has an epiphany. His mind goes back over his conversation and he draws his first image of what would become his Virgin.

Lipchitz described his experience creating the Virgin as a religious experience.
"When working, I am linked to the entire cosmos. By rhythm I am linked to time, by volume I am linked to space, and by the subject matter I am liked to human beings, to their sufferings and joys. And through the feeling of creation I am bound to our Lord himself. From this comes the fascination of work and also the feeling of responsibility"(Rubin 133).

Now, I think I may have found my nucleus. How does this branch out to take hold of the rest of the material? Taking into account Lee Blessing's advice to me of looking at a play as a "Lawyer's Opening and Closing Remarks," what am I trying to prove with this play? And what is my evidence? So far, the first clue is: NYC subway. Does that mean that true spiritual experience happens outside of the Church?

Monday, May 23, 2005

Crazy Idea

NDdTG was built for the patients of a tuberculosis sanatorium. What if the play takes place in the sanatorium with the patients performing a play about the creation of the Church? It's a crazy idea, but that was the community this church was built for. What are the needs of this community? Are they the same needs that exist for the Church today? For our society in America?

The decorations of the church were chosen expressly for the community at hand, they were 1. The sick, 2. French, 3. Christian. This seems to be the heirarchy that defines the congregation. For example, the windows depict saints based on their involvement with sickness and cure, yet also the majority are national French heroes.

From "Modern Sacred Art and the Church of Assy":

"Surverying the decoration from within the church, one is struck by a feeling of isolation of parts, resulting to some extent from the absence of a continuous iconographic scheme. This sense of disjunction is reinforced by the marked difference in style from one work to the next. Thus, just as the musical saints of the tribune seem to have no connection with the iconography below, the style of Bazaine is at variance with that of Rouault. Yet this iconographic and stylistic discontinuity is not out of harmony with the more individualistic, less group-oriented religious experience of the convalescents at Assy" (Rubin 39).


"Another unusual aspect of the iconographic program is the almost total absence of narrative imagery. None of the themes popular among even modernist Catholic artists (like the Stations of the Cross) are present. Although the saints are included on account of their acts, they are never shown in action; rather they are portrayed as simple standing figures, resembling more the medieval 'icon' than the narrative image familar since the time of Giotto... This absolute insistence upon the 'icon' presentation is peculiar to the church of Assy among the twentieth-century churches, and it may be that it results in part from the particular expressive needs of the participating modern artists. In general, narrative imagery has been foreign to modern painters" (Rubin 43-44).

How does this affect the style and structure of the play? Are the artists shown as icons rather than as characters? Does this play take place during the building of the church or after? How long after? Does this play take place in Heaven? What is the foundation of the play? The artists, the church, or the priests behind it? Or the patients? What bearing does this individualistic, non-narrative quality of the art have on the play? I'm still drowning in questions, themes, and topics. Where is the nucleus?

Caryl Churchill keeps jumping into my mind as I think of writing this play. "Top Girls." "Cloud Nine." What does that mean?

Battle for Modern Sacred Art

From Pope Pius XII:
Attacked "works which astonishingly deform art and yet pretend to be Christian...from which naturally derives the fact that there is no lack in our times of priests infected in some way with a similar contagion...who have allowed themselves to be carried away by the mania of novelty" (Rubin 47-48).

Reaction against Notre Dame de Toute Grace (NDdTG) was focused after its dedication, 1950, and carried on long after.

From the "Tract of Angers":

"certain modern pictures which pretend to represent religious subjects, though the eye can discern only angular, grimacing, and unformed figures, in the midst of violent colors. The pure visage of the Virgin is replaced by a dirty caricature...This is not religious art, but an infamous profanation" (Rubin 50).

From an unnamed Dominican priest:
"modern art will have had three enemies, Hitler, Stalin, and the Pope" (Rubin 51).

Because of protestations, the crucifix designed by Germaine Richier was removed from the Church, though the residents of Assy had no reaction against the work of art. In fact, after its removal, members of the community wrote letters begging for their crucifix to be restored. The Papacy was very much removed from the situation itself. How does this disconnection fit into the play?

Saturday, May 21, 2005

Segments of a Letter to Artists from Pope John Paul II

The artist, image of God the Creator

None can sense more deeply than you artists, ingenious creators of beauty that you are, something of the pathos with which God at the dawn of creation looked upon the work of his hands.

The link between good and beautiful stirs fruitful reflection. In a certain sense, beauty is the visible form of the good, just as the good is the metaphysical condition of beauty. This was well understood by the Greeks who, by fusing the two concepts, coined a term which embraces both: kalokagathía, or beauty-goodness. On this point Plato writes: “The power of the Good has taken refuge in the nature of the Beautiful”.(5)

It is in living and acting that man establishes his relationship with being, with the truth and with the good. The artist has a special relationship to beauty. In a very true sense it can be said that beauty is the vocation bestowed on him by the Creator in the gift of “artistic talent”.

Those who perceive in themselves this kind of divine spark which is the artistic vocation—as poet, writer, sculptor, architect, musician, actor and so on—feel at the same time the obligation not to waste this talent but to develop it, in order to put it at the service of their neighbour and of humanity as a whole.

Society needs artists, just as it needs scientists, technicians, workers, professional people, witnesses of the faith, teachers, fathers and mothers, who ensure the growth of the person and the development of the community by means of that supreme art form which is “the art of education”. Within the vast cultural panorama of each nation, artists have their unique place. Obedient to their inspiration in creating works both worthwhile and beautiful, they not only enrich the cultural heritage of each nation and of all humanity, but they also render an exceptional social service in favour of the common good.

* * *

Even in the changed climate of more recent centuries, when a part of society seems to have become indifferent to faith, religious art has continued on its way.

It is true nevertheless that, in the modern era, alongside this Christian humanism which has continued to produce important works of culture and art, another kind of humanism, marked by the absence of God and often by opposition to God, has gradually asserted itself. Such an atmosphere has sometimes led to a separation of the world of art and the world of faith, at least in the sense that many artists have a diminished interest in religious themes.

You know, however, that the Church has not ceased to nurture great appreciation for the value of art as such. Even beyond its typically religious expressions, true art has a close affinity with the world of faith, so that, even in situations where culture and the Church are far apart, art remains a kind of bridge to religious experience.

In order to communicate the message entrusted to her by Christ, the Church needs art. Art must make perceptible, and as far as possible attractive, the world of the spirit, of the invisible, of God. It must therefore translate into meaningful terms that which is in itself ineffable. Art has a unique capacity to take one or other facet of the message and translate it into colours, shapes and sounds which nourish the intuition of those who look or listen. It does so without emptying the message itself of its transcendent value and its aura of mystery.

But can it also be said that art needs the Church? The question may seem like a provocation. Yet, rightly understood, it is both legitimate and profound. Artists are constantly in search of the hidden meaning of things, and their torment is to succeed in expressing the world of the ineffable. How then can we fail to see what a great source of inspiration is offered by that kind of homeland of the soul that is religion? Is it not perhaps within the realm of religion that the most vital personal questions are posed, and answers both concrete and definitive are sought?

Andy on the Connections of Theologians and Artists

Some ad hoc remarks on the secularization of sacred art and the current relationship of art and theology:

Christian art became "very tame and saccharine" mostly in response to the Protestant Reformation. The Protestants became disenchanted with, perhaps disaffected by, the art of the churches. This forced the Catholics to reevaluate their use of art, particularly sculpture and images.

The Council of Trent decreed, "All superstition must be removed from invocation of the saints, veneration of relics and use of sacred images; all aiming at base profit must be eliminated; all sensual appeal must be avoided, so that the images are not painted or adorned with seductive charm.... And lastly, bishops should give very great care and attention to ensure that in this matter nothing occurs that is disorderly, ...nothing profane and nothing unseemly, since holiness befits the house of God."

Thus the beginning of kitsch in Christian art. A healthy concern for holiness in art became a paranoia of undomesticated artistic style--a stifling of artistic style.

In the meantime, the Reformers' suspicion of art in general (as idolatry) gave rise to an interesting phenomenon--the secularization of art. Some of the Reformers outright refused art as a valid occupation for Christians at all. Some simply disallowed art in churches. Others allowed art in church as a teaching tool only. They all agreed, however, that veneration of the images (as with the icons) was not to be practiced. This divested art of its sacredness, its holiness, its numinous quality. In addition, many of the Reformers advocated art in private collections (mostly held by the wealthy, such as aristocracy or royalty) and in the secular world in general. Thus we find the beginnings of a division between the private and public as well as the sacred and secular uses of art among Christians in the Protestant Reformation (ca. 1500).

It is at this time that art begins to have a new patronage as well. Because the reformers continued to advocate the arts outside of the religious sphere, the private sphere (again, mostly among the wealthy) began to consume art at a much higher rate. The Church was no longer the patron of the arts She used to be, so the public began patronizing the arts.

This trajectory, of course, continued into the Enlightenment/post-Enlightenment era. During the Enlightenment all things sacred took a huge hit. The rift between the secular and sacred gaped, due to a number of cultural revolutions. The churches (whether Protestant or Catholic) reeled. In the world of art, all innovation came from outside of the churches. Coincidentally, as the end of the nineteenth century approached, art became a religion of sorts--art for art's sake. The museums became temples, artists became gods, art became works idols, and critics became priests. Artists took art seriously because they took Beauty (albeit, sometimes hidden beneath ugliness) seriously. Is it any wonder that more soul was to be found in secular art?

Can we find a bridge between art and religion anymore? What can unite the two worlds? Where do we look for answers? I have to bypass a number of problems on the way to an answer here, and ignore serious questions that could be raised. But there are two distinct connections between art and Christianity--creation and incarnation. In creating, artists participate in the work of God the Creator. I would go so far as to say that the creation of artists attempts to reflect some small ray of what is Beautiful. And when it does this well, art participates in part of the divine nature. (There are any number of qualifications that should be made here, but I spare you the thirty-page essay.)

The incarnation validates particularly religious images. God took on human flesh, the mundane, the worldly by God's own volition. In the Scriptures, Christ is called the image (eikon=icon) of God (2 Cor 4.4; Col 1.15). This transgresses the line between worldly and otherworldly, between immanent and transcendent, and allows for communication between the sacred and the profane or the secular and the sacred. My Munch paper will draw these lines a little more closely. The incarnation is also the validation for the Eucharistic collision of mundane (bread and wine) and divine (body and blood of Christ).

At any rate the experience of the aesthetic is akin to experience of God. As a theologian AND as an artist I am captive to the Infinite void that beckons in Beauty, in Truth, and in the Good. The mysterium tremendum strikes us dumb when we encounter it and enraptures us as it enthralls us. In a great mystery it is only this void, which is not a void, that can offer us any answers. It is the thirst for transcendence that calls both artists and theologians.

Ok, so these have necessarily been very incomplete thoughts, but there they are. JP II wrote a letter to artists in 1999 that reflects the same kind of thinking I have adopted. It's worth checking out.

Anyway, that's the most concise I can make it tonight.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Theologians and Artists

I've been reading up on the Church of Assy and the history of sacred art a bit and it seems there are interesting parallels with trends that are happening today: those in power creating a very tame and saccarine version of faith for the masses to consume, a very commercialized version of Christ where "sacred art" looks just like "kitsch." There is no difference, no soul in either. And it's so sad that the only way to find the soul in the sacred was to look to atheists, those supposedly without faith. Outsiders. There was so much disconnection from the world that there was this experiment for "worker-priests," priests in everyday clothes, working side by side with the common men of the day. They declared France to be a "missionary country," which meant to deal with it as other countries without faith. Desperate times I suppose. Secular Vs. Sacred. Has this always been the way of things? What is the bridge? What can unite those worlds? As a theologian, where do you seek the answers? As an artist, where do you seek the answers? Is that the most logical pairing: Theologian and Artist? It seems that theologian and politician has never been a good mix looking back at history and the corruption of the papacy. But Theologian and Artist. Where's the link? Is it a natural bond?

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Dramaturgical Questions from Bryan Moore

Do I focus on the Project itself?
The artists lives during the project?
Did they have any problems working together?
Did religion cause any problems? Jew Vs. Catholic Vs. Atheist?
Focus on the criticism and arguments against the artists?
How much is the outside world (ie., WWII) informing the play?
How did the artists react to the war?
If the artists were forced to stop work on the Church, why did they stop their work? Why did they continue after the war?
Was there a deadline? Did the war affect this deadline?
Are there only a couple of artists to focus on?
Are we looking at the artists for their art, for their religion? What angle?
Is this a personal story or more of a larger scale/project oriented?
Is this the story of M.-A. Coutrier? Conflict of bridging the gap?
What about the forgotten artists? How did they decide? Is that important?
What was the state of art in the world at the time? Sacred art?
Why was this so important?
How was Modern art being considered in general?
What questions are the important ones to answer?

Only two of the artists were practicing Catholics.
Were there any specific works that caused some flack, had to be changed, or weren't used? There were many designs, but were any not used?
Was there a painter or artist who worked to put everything together? The link between all the artists? What is the linking factor? What is the nucleus?
Is this an ensemble piece?

Note

Lipchitz: Do you know that I'm a Jew?
Cleric: If it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother us.
(Rubin 126)

Lipchitz wanted a special inscription on the Virgin he would design. This inscription is now written on the back of the Virgin:
"Jacob Lipchitz, Jew, faithful to the religion of his ancestors, has made this Virgin to foster understanding between men on earth that the life of the spirit may prevail." (Rubin 126-127)

Monday, May 16, 2005

Preliminary Bibliography

Couturier, M.-A. Sacred Art. Trans. Granger Ryan. Texas: University of Texas Press, 1989.

Crumlin, Rosemary. Beyond Belief: Modern Art and the Religious Imagination. Austrailia: National Gallery of Victoria, 1998.

Dillenberger, Jane and John Dillenberger. Perceptions of the Spirit in Twentieth-Century American Art. Indiana: Indianapolis Museum of Art, 1977.

Dillenberger, John. A Theology of Artistic Sensibilities: The Visual Arts and the Church. New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1986.

Mastisse, Henri, M.-A. Couturier and L.-B. Rayssiguier. The Vence Chapel: The Archive of a Creation. Trans. Michael Taylor. Italy: Skira Editore S.P.A., 1999.

Purdy, William A. Seeing and Believing: Theology and Art. Butler, Wisconsin: Clergy Book Service, 1976.

Rubin, William S. Modern Sacred Art and the Church of Assy. New York: Columbia University Press, 1961.

Viladesau, Richard. Theology and the Arts: Encountering God through Music, Art and Rhetoric. New York: Paulist Press, 2000.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Research Revision

It begins. Research for a play. Already, I feel inundated with information and I've barely started. After speaking with Art, I've decided to focus my energy this summer to creating ONE play: The Church in Plateau d'Assy, France. The story is so specific while the other plays are more focused around large ideas rather than characters or a story. Plus, the story of the Church, Notre Dame de Toute Grace, is so ripe with theatrical possibility that I find it necessary to put it above the others. I've already started dreaming about the play. I found pictures of the Church itself last night and thought "What scenic designer wouldn't be inspired by these pictures?" The Church is on a mountainside in the Alps and is made of stone. The shape of the church is angular and sharp.

Notre Dame de Toute Grace

What I need to do is find information about all the artists in order to figure out reasons why they would have taken part in this project. I found a book on Matisse, which archives the creation of another chapel in France. It gives day to day documentation of Matisse's work and would prove useful in crafting this play.

I've tried to find the list of ALL the artists that were involved and have compile the following list. It may not be complete, but it's a start:

Léger
Lurçat
Bazaine
Bonnard
Braque
Richier
Chagall
Lipschitz
Matisse
Rouault

In the next few days, I will make my way to the libraries and fill my bag. Here goes.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

From Andy

Hey, some more things:
Baudelaire's essay, "The Painter of Modern Life." Would be helpful for both projects, but probably especially for the Decadents.
Ellis Hanson--"Decadence and Catholicism." (For the Decadents, of course, and their relationship to Catholicism.)
William S. Rubin--"Modern Sacred Art and the Church of Assy." (Don't know how good it is, but I saw it in the library and thought it might be a good starting point.)

I'm sure I'll think of some other stuff at some point.

Summer Independent Study

Last night, I spoke with my friend, Andy, for a long time. Mostly catching up, but also discussing the usual politics and religion and state of the human race, you know, the basics. And through our talk, I found two additional new plays to write! I’ve always been worried about finding ideas for plays, but I guess it’s not too hard to find things when you’re discussing what’s true and beautiful with the world and asking the big questions about REAL LOVE and DEATH. I've read, seen, and heard plays where writers write about love, characters fall in love, they write about death, characters die, but mostly the characters are meaningless and pitiful. The characters make themselves out to be victims in a world that’s really not that bad. Andy and I were discussing how people in the world are lazy and there’s no time for real thought. People are so caught up in living and living has become so cluttered and complicated that there’s no time to consider what’s true in the world.

So, now I have two play ideas:
1. A writer and a theologian on the fringe of The Decadents Movement try to sort through life in the “modern” world. This is a comedy of sorts, which I imagine in the vein of “Shakespeare in Love.”
2. M.-A. Couturier, a Dominican priest hires modern artists such as Léger, Braque, Matisse, Chagall, Lipschitz and others to decorate a new Church in the city of Assy in the south of France. This play is based on a true story. It would be great to embark on this journey and investigate all these great artists and the impact of creating the art for this Church. Can you imagine? Great minds together, the art that must have been created. I haven’t seen their work yet, I’ve only just heard of this event, so I’m going to spend my summer researching this event for my independent study.

Actually, I’m going to be researching for three plays, the two above and “Spiral from Normalcy (The Grand Justice),” which might just be getting a title change… Maybe something like “I’m Gonna Smite Thee?” Perhaps not. It depends on what the play ends up being.

So, here we go. For this summer:

Research The Decadents
Research The Church of Assy
Read “Crime and Punishment”
Read “The Brothers Karamazov”
Read Nietzsche’s “Thus Spake Zarathustra”
Read “Gilead”
Read “Against Nature”
Read plays of Sean O’Casey

These are my goals for my summer. Let my eyes be swift and my plays be plentiful.