Art and the Artist By Rinda Ki Goff

Art differs from natural beauty in a rather obvious, but significant respect; God created the natural beauty, but humans created art. Of course, that means all created art, and that’s a broad field—music, dance, all forms of writing, and all forms of visual art. For this post I’m going to be referring to art as the visual arts; everything from sculpture or photographs to paintings and drawings. Still a huge well to draw from, but at least I’ve taken it down a little.

Art being created by man means that it can be (and often is) riddled with problems and imperfections, ranging from the motivation of the artist, to poor execution of technique. The former is by far the more troubling issue. I admit here that there are artists who don’t create beauty, who are selfish egotists, whose art drags people down, or who corrupt themselves and others—and these can occasionally cause major problems because they become part of powerful and dubious social movements. Some art is just down-right blasphemous—insulting to God.

But honestly, I don’t think that such art represents anything close to a majority of the art being created, or enjoyed, today. Once upon a time, when an artist was only really seen when they were featured by the art community—often a more liberal and atheistic community—this was more of a problem. There was a time when the most influential art was what shocked the most people. However, I think we’ve passed that stage. We’ve proven we can “rebel against the man,” and do what we want—and that individualism in art has come back around to those who want to explore more classical themes and modes. Not to mention that websites such as etsy.com or deviantart.com have given everyone a chance to show off their work. The featured artist is anyone willing to put their work out there, and it’s easier to click around the web than to take a trip to a museum, so it might even get a broader (if more shallow) audience.

In fact, diviantArt is a good showing for how Americans are relating to art now. There is some crude and base work being done, and sometimes it becomes popular. But much of the art is just superficial work done because the artist enjoyed creating, or is pandering to commercialization, or the artist is simply practicing. There is nothing wrong with such work—not by a long shot—but it isn’t really greatness either. But every now and then, you run across someone whose work is awesome. It takes your breath away. And when it’s surrounded by all the other, more casual pieces, it stands head and shoulders above the crowd. Every time I see something like that I get shivers from my head to my feet, my heart swells, and one phrase echoes in my head; “Now that’s art.” I hurry to click it into my collection of favorites, and lo and behold! It already has over 200 other fans. Not surprising, considering the reason I found it was because it was in one of the many “most popular” sections I browse.

But what does this all mean? It means that there are artists out there who are creating things that are lovely, praise-worthy, and of good report. Talent is still alive and making beautiful things. It also means that no matter how jaded or fallen we are, many of us (even the most uneducated in art) have an instinctual love for good art, and we know it when we see it. This says good things about artists, about the audience, but mostly, it says interesting things about art.

Because many of those outstanding pieces of art—and now I’m throwing in the rest of history’s masterpieces—fall into three general patterns; those that directly reference God, those which have a meaningful messages, and those which are just beautiful or share joy.

There is a large swath of history where art directly relating to God was the rule for western culture. The Catholic Church had immense control, and almost all art was commissioned. From this time period we have the dazzling alter pieces, or painted churches. What wasn’t a portrait was often a dedicated religious piece. As the power of religion waned during the “period of Enlightenment,” art became more secular, but religious works never stopped. It’s still around today, and I dare say it always will be there.

Art is powerful. It moves us. We don’t just see art, we also feel it. When we look at a religious piece, we not only see the artist’s work, but we can feel what was behind the brush strokes or chisel strike. It’s natural that those who know the gospel would want to share it in such a powerful medium. By putting the story of God into art we share the impact of it, and add another dimension of understanding. They’re illustrations for the most incredible story ever told.

One of my personal favorites is Michelangelo’s Pieta. Mary’s face is so calm and so sad. The broken body of Christ in her arms . . . and I can really sense what the story means, and they become more real for me.



Art is also a great medium for saying something important. When an artist speaks with his talent, it can feel just like a punch in the gut. Now some messages are nice; a praise of virtue, or an expression of love. But some great pieces are when the artist has something to say that isn’t so pleasant to hear—something about injustice, or poverty, or man’s indifference. These art pieces aren’t very pleasant to look at, and I wouldn’t go hanging them in my home, but they are masterpieces, and they matter.

Guernica by Pablo Picasso is a great example. It was first introduced to me by description and then sight. It’s a massive blue, black and white oil mural that spans 11 feet tall and 25 feet wide. As I looked on the deformed figures and tried to image them across a huge wall, all I could think was “that’s hideous.” Then the instructor casually mentioned that it was Picasso’s attempt to draw attention to the bombing of the Basque town Guernica. Then I saw it as what Picasso had to say, something a little beyond words. I wouldn’t trade one drop of that ugly, because it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be. I will never forget it.



And I believe that God wants these messages given. I believe that he has something to say about virtue and love, and the value of human connection. I also believe he has something to say about a fallen world, and what we’re doing with it.

The final category is simple beauty. Of course, those of you who’ve read my post on beauty know that I don’t see anything really simple about beauty—well. . . I do, and I don’t. It’s complicated. But what I mean here are the significant art pieces which have no meaning above or beyond their beauty—no story to tell, and no message to communicate (at least, not a direct one).

And I’ve connected simple beauty with the act of sharing joy. Creating an art piece is an act of sharing, and joy and beauty may be nebulously joined, but I sure can’t manage to tell them apart.

For a more complete ramble on the significance of beauty and why it matters to the human soul, go ahead and read the post God and Beauty. I can wait. It’s preferable to re-typing it all.

But I will add stuff about beauty more specific to Art. There is something very meaningful going on when an artist creates something beautiful. It’s an echo of creation. A human will spend hours developing skill and talents in a very real form of work, which can be dirty, imperfect, and unpleasant. But the slow refinement changes the nature of the person who creates beauty. They begin to see the world differently. They look at it in parts—as a creator—and they look at it as a whole, to learn its nature. Seeing things in such a complex and comprehensive way can sometimes draw them closer to God, through both humility and a greater understanding of the encompassing majesty required for God to be God. What kind of a Being can create the perfect system of veins on a leaf, and spreads a forest across a mountain? Artists, because of how they look at the world, are more likely to see the full range of work, and how it fits together.

(On a total side note: scientist are also prone to this sense of impending-awe when they can see how awesome a cell is, and then sweep their arms out to look at the moving Universe and they know the unaccountable laws that govern it all.)

And, while it’s rather cliché, it should be mentioned that we become what we obsess about. An artist who dedicates their life to beauty, will, by default, draw more beauty into their world, into the lives of those around them, and will become more beautiful themselves.

Now for some examples of beautiful art. These are some of my favorites. All of them are done by modern living artists. All of the pictures link back to artist and the piece either by their deviantArt account or their Flickr account.









(Alright. The last one is probably more about "sharing joy," but I still think that laughing that hard is just beautiful)

Now, the sad truth is that some artists whose work I would cite as awesome might not be pleased that I tied their work to God. There are quite a few atheists who are wonderful artists. But when I affirm the reality of my Lord, I affirm it past the objections of those who don’t believe. And just because they don’t believe doesn’t mean that their work is any less to do with God.

God is the God of atheists too, and we can never escape him or the implications of his nature. He was the original Artist. He created, and his work was good. We are only here because he created us, and we can only create because he shared with us such an intimate and special aspect of his nature. When we create we are tapping into a bit of our god-nature. Because we are God’s work, our work will always be tied to him. The work of the creation is a reflection of the Creator. Our worst work is to his shame, and our best work is to his praise and glory—even if we don’t know him.