Of Mystery and the Invisible: Understanding the Christian Artist

Initially, these words conjure thoughts of aged masterpieces with explicitly Biblical subjects. Leonardo’s Last Supper is an obvious example, as are some of Rembrandt’s etchings depicting events from the life of Christ. One of these etchings happened to be on display this particular afternoon, and it provided a starting point from which to explore this question.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was an exhibit of paintings by former Dartmouth Professor Ben Frank Moss, titled Immanence and Revelation. These paintings were overwhelmingly abstract, so much so that I had trouble guessing what theme or message they meant to convey. The exhibit, however, also included selections from an interview with Moss that made apparent his Christian faith. From these examples, one could conclude that Christian art is not limited by technique or theme, though these can be important components. Rather, Christian art is the product of a Christian artist. The Christian artist realizes that inspiration comes from God and that every human act of creation is inherently subcreative, a reflection of the overwhelming perfection of God’s larger creation.

I did not realize it at the time, but the title of Moss’ exhibit referenced this idea. Immanence is similar in sense to transcendence, referring to ideas of how God acts and exists within the world. When considering this, it is natural to arrive at the question of what God reveals to us. What does His revelation mean? Subcreation follows from these ideas. The Christian artist, recognizing the work of God in His world, may seek a way to reflect His glory through smaller acts of creation. Evaluating this can be difficult, though. Unless an artist tells us specifically, how can we attempt to determine what he was thinking as he worked? In some works, such as Rembrandt’s, we can only conjecture.

Rembrandt’s etching Christ Crucified Between Two Thieves was one of the few overtly Christian-themed pieces in a larger exhibit of European prints I saw at the museum that day. I had first seen this work while taking a printmaking class, so I deeply appreciated its scale. Every line in this etching had been placed with great care, to describe a crowded hillside topped with three crosses. The print itself was not large, but it conveyed extraordinary depth and character. At once shadowy and filled with streams of light, the etching showed frightening chaos but also a reassuring sense of peace.

Rembrandt captured here the overflow of emotions that must have accompanied Christ’s crucifixion. Unlike in the Moss exhibit upstairs, there were no conveniently-placed quotations explaining the artist’s motivation. The details of this work, however, led me to believe that it could only be the creation of someone firmly rooted in the Christian faith.

On the ground beneath the crosses was a great crowd of people, some holding one another and appearing to cry out. There were also soldiers on horseback, brandishing swords. These characters were partially obscured in a deep shadow that made them seem tangled, confusing and difficult to describe, though the fearsome swords stood out easily. In the center of the etching, a brilliant light shone down on Jesus from above as He looked away from the chaos beneath Him and turned His gaze toward Heaven.

Jesus appeared small in this etching; those in the crowd could not reach him to provide comfort. The ground in front of His cross was devoid of people and illuminated by the same dazzling light from above. Perhaps this was an invitation from Rembrandt to draw the viewer into the scene and point him directly toward the cross. Jesus, though seemingly isolated from the events around Him, is somehow still close to us.

This focus on Christ is part of the emotion that sets apart this print from other depictions of the crucifixion that narrate the event with simple, quiet precision. Though we cannot know for sure, Rembrandt seemed to believe in what he was depicting and wanted us too to care about this event and consider how we might respond. This is one aspect of Christian art: An artist can use his craft as a medium to explore his faith and use his talent to share that faith with others.

Leaving behind this etching, I discovered the contemporary creations of Ben Frank Moss. Of the many paintings and charcoal drawings on display at the time, few were obviously representational, and those were focused not on Biblical characters or scenes but on subjects drawn from nature. Still, abstract art is never as simple as it appears. The artist must work with as much care and consideration for composition, light and color as if he were painting a landscape or a portrait. I noticed this quality immediately in Moss’s paintings. Even the smallest pieces were built from paint so carefully layered and handled that the many colors never ran together unintentionally. The paint appeared to be applied only moments ago, still fresh and glistening in the soft gallery light. In every work was a sense of calm, contemplation and wonder.

These qualities, of course, can be found in works from any artist of reasonable talent, regardless of his or her faith. It seems that Moss, however, approached his art a bit differently than would an artist looking solely inside his own mind for inspiration and guidance:

What seems to be associated with the whole experience of producing a painting, a drawing – being engaged by this activity – is for me, in no small way, the awareness of a larger property within the universe … it’s a means, in my mind, of trying to give voice to what lies beyond; that undefinable something. As a person of faith, that is something I identify as a supreme being, as God.i

Moss focused his art not on depicting concrete elements of the Christian experience but on how Christians experience the world and how they might connect with the Creator through their own acts of subcreation, however small. It is important, though, that a Christian realize this capacity in art. Simply being a Christian who also happens to make a painting does not guarantee that the process will be an enriching or exploratory experience.

He acknowledged that his own insight into this experience allowed him to connect with God: The painting is painting itself, and I’m simply an observer of what’s happening. For Moss, painting is A longing to be helped, captivated by a spiritual force – something unseen but sensed.

Moss has accomplished much in depicting and communicating this dream-like space of sense and memory. Though his paintings covered a wide range of color schemes, with vividly different colors put together on some of the smallest papers, the enduring impression was one of light. This is difficult to accomplish in even one painting, to say nothing of numerous styles, sizes and themes. An uncommon lightness and luminosity reached out from every work here.

Even a painter this accomplished admitted that his works were still searching. In another excerpt, Moss explained, I have always admired work that has that registration of mystery, of the invisible … I look for what’s revealed very slowly, but with real deliberation.

This idea led me to a more developed definition of the Christian artist: He is not bound by subject, style or medium. Instead, he is driven by an all-encompassing desire to understand God and His perfect creation. He wants to explore his faith in his art and communicate his deeply-held beliefs, perhaps even his fears or questionings, through small acts of creation. The concept of subcreation forms the core of this: No matter how Christian an artist’s themes may be, he only truly recognizes the driving force behind his work when he acknowledges he is a small part of God’s greater creation. Similarly, any artist who realizes and embraces this idea can produce Christian art without being bound by technical constraints. The process of creation, for the Christian artist, matters far more than the final product.