Letters.

Koestle-Cate, Jonathan

The issues raised by Edward Hopkins in the last issue of Art & Christianity (p.9), in response to 'Conflux', deserve careful consideration. His concern was essentially this: shouldn't art produced for the church be manifestly Christian or directed towards exploring the values associated with a Christian sensibility? It is a valid question and no doubt one that exercises many of those involved in one way or another with church-based contemporary art.

A recent aspect of my research has been an analysis of the growing number of arts policies now being introduced by cathedral chapters. These documents ratify the use of contemporary art invited into or commissioned for their respective spaces, and invariably attempt to determine whether said art ought to fulfil religious as well as aesthetic criteria. Implicit in all such policy-making is the degree to which 'Christian' should be a descriptor of the art or artists engaged by the church. Some policies lay down fairly prescriptive rules while others attempt to keep their parameters as loose and open to interpretation as possible. Those policies that are more conciliatory underline the valued place of the visual arts as a source of spiritual insight, regardless of whether or not an artist is a professed Christian. However, underlying several of the policies, unwritten but implied, is also the need to contain the unruly, subversive or unmanageable potential of art, especially an art with secular rather than religious origins.

One common difficulty for art produced for churches and cathedrals is that the need to fulfil ecclesiastical criteria takes precedence over artistic decisions, a complaint voiced by numerous artist; one finds the demand to produce a 'message-orientated' work of art can place undue restrictions on creativity and undervalue art as art. At the other extreme, plenty of examples can be found in which a distinctively Christian aesthetic and explicitly Christian inspiration is deemed solely acceptable against the perceived godlessness of contemporary art and contemporary culture. As one such advocate has put it, art for art's sake should be relinquished in favour of art for God's sake, whereby sacramental values predominate over purely artistic ones. For those of us anxious to promote the vital contribution art makes to a religious milieu as an equally valid way of seeing, understanding and responding to the world, any such focus on art as overtly 'Christian' could be considered unduly limiting, foreclosing possibilities and inhibiting efforts to think progressively and creatively. In his contribution to the 1993 Images of Christ exhibition catalogue Rowan Williams made precisely this point, going so far as to propose that 'art is most seriously religious, even theological, when it isn't perceived as trying to illustrate Christian truths.' Though counter-intuitive, many of the most memorable ecclesiastical commissions of the past two decades have exemplified this logic.

Clearly a concrete effect of the issue at stake here is the impact it has upon the choice of artists selected to produce work for the church. A characteristic scenario of ecclesiastical installations nowadays is that artists are selected who openly profess no form of Christian belief. This is deemed no bar to their ability to produce work appropriate to a sacred environment. Pere Marie-Alain Couturier is usually called upon as an early defendant of employing non-believing artists for the church, a risky agenda realised in the works for the church at Assy. Piety, he felt, was no replacement for artistic vision, and among those chosen for Assy were confirmed atheists like Richier, Communists such as Leger, Lurcat and Braque, and Jews such as Chagall and Lipchitz. This lack of concern for the religious persuasion of the chosen artists extended even to employing some who had been openly hostile towards the Catholic Church. Not everyone agrees with this line of thought of course. Others have reversed Couturier's argument, stipulating that sacred or religious art must demonstrate sacramental values before being considered for its aesthetic or affective qualities. This would seem to imply that art is only ever a material means to a sacramental end. Thus, the quality of the artist is of less importance than their religiously-motivated purpose. Even if we decry this extreme, a more incisive criticism of Couturier's attitude comes from art historian Meyer Schapiro who, in 'Church Art: Religious Imagination and the Artist' (1963), raised the legitimate objection that the lack of a personally-felt religious sensitivity on the part of the artists at Assy meant that

 [t]hey followed their own sense of what
 was appropriate and produced a whole
 that has impressed visitors as no more
 than a museum, an episode in modern
 art rather than as a church building
 that owes its unity to a single governing
 thought, to a program of decoration
 rooted in a living tradition of consistent
 religious thinking and art.

Although we might understand the reasoning behind Couturier's disavowal of the absolute necessity for Christian artists, and at the same time see the truth in Schapiro's criticisms, rightly or wrongly the balance of recent decades has been weighted far more against those who would insist on the confessional artist (eg the artists shortlisted for Chichester Cathedral's proposed new commission). The argument continues to be made, with considerable justification I believe, that an insistence on Christian art and artists is limiting where expressions of spiritual experience are concerned, or rather, to keep to the specifics of Hopkins' comments, regarding definitions of what it means for art to be Christian.

The question, then, comes down to what we really mean by 'Christian' when it comes to art. Must the artist be a Christian? Must the art depict Christian themes? Many commentators have argued the pros and cons of such axiomatic approaches to church-based art and yet, as might be expected, no definitive answer has been forthcoming. Could we say, for example, that art is Christian when it shows a concern for the politically dispossessed, disenfranchised and distraught that is the mainstay of Doris Salcedo's work? If so, then her installation in Liverpool Cathedral in 1999 might be considered Christian regardless of her own beliefs. Is art Christian when it conveys an experience of empathy, reflecting our desire to love and be loved? If so, then Tracey Emin's neon For You, also at Liverpool, could qualify as Christian, whatever the religious standing of the artist. Is art Christian when it encourages an attitude of quiet contemplation within a sacred context? If so, then we might vouchsafe Anthony Gormley's Sound II in Winchester Cathedral crypt as Christian. Is art Christian when it focuses on ordinary members of one's society and gives them a place of prominence in the sacred centre of a community? If so, then 'Conflux' could arguably be seen as a work that extols qualities of redemption, forgiveness, acceptance, forbearance, selflessness and loving kindness, which Hopkins proposes as the core elements of any genuinely Christian art.

Jonathan Koestle-Cate

Goldsmiths College, London