nevermind the bricolage

Parapluie

 
I think that I made some headway in my class yesterday helping some of the students connect some dots between art and theology, by introducing the work of Mark Tansey. We looked at four paintings, The Triumph of the New School, End of Painting, Doubting Thomas and most importantly perhaps, Mount Saint-Victoire. Tansey's paintings are loaded with symbolism and layered meanings. Mount-Saint Victoire is a painting inspired by Cezanne's painting of the same name, and another of his works called the Bathers.

Tansey takes these two ideas and uses them to generate his own fascinating reflection on the shortcomings of deconstruction. The painting features a group of men in various states of undress hanging around the edge of water, a mountain looming in the background. But all is not as it seems, if you really examine the painting, if in fact, you turn it upside down, you notice that the reflection of the bathers turns them into naked women! In fact the whole painting reflects on binary oppositions--male/female, earth/ater/dress/undress/concave/convex, on and on. It also turns out that the figures are not just any men but are the post-structuralists/postmodernists themselves--Derrida, Barthes, Beaudrillard, interesting. Everything in the painting can be inverted and has a reverse meaning, except for one thing, an umbrella on the far left of the painting. Umbrella's are a symbol of surrealism, and in this painting it offers a way of understanding the limits of the structuralist/poststructuralist argument and offers a way past this into some new territory. Mark C. Taylr has written a lot about Tansey and his book, The Picture in Question, has really openend my eyes to this artist whom I have been fascinated with for quite some time. Quoting J. Hillis Miller, he writes that the umbrella is the "ambiguous transition between" that traces the "boundary line, threshold, or margin" where forms form and thus order emerges...heady stuff, but everything in a Tansey painting is pivotal. What the painting hopes to do is point us away from binary oppositions--this or that, towards a different horizon, towards the edge of choas, towards complexity. Why I think this is important for a discussion on art and theology, and particularly in thinking about art as a model for theology is linked to this very idea. I think art has always traded in complexity, the challenges of life, etc. and this is it's gift to us and its potential for theology. Again, I turn to Taylor who writes about Tansey, "(he) finds in complexity theory, a way to understand the intricate diversity of the networks within which we are forever caught. Different systems structured in different ways and interact differently to produce the inescapable rhythms of life...Life is neither totally ordered or completelychaotic but it is always lived ar the edge of chaos, Tansey figures whatcan never b completely figured and thus must forever be refigured." This is the theological enterprise for me, and art is the means of grasping this conceptually for me. 

Brain

Der Mensch als Industriepalast [Man as Industrial Palace] from Henning Lederer on Vimeo.

Began a new discussion group last night: If I Only Had A Brain, a chat about the brain and whether or not a 'right brain' church might look different from our present models. A device really to think about faith in different categories. We began with a general conversation about the brain and our perception of it, the mechanistic model of humanity versus Jill Bolte Taylor's Stroke of Insight, and a few rightbrain/left brain games.

Magic+Sex+Death

Today we shifted focus a little, after examining a bit more of Van Gogh's theology at work in his painting, we moved to Picasso and watched a documentary about him called Magic, Sex and Death, which looked at his formative works and the central ideas that drove his life and shaped his art--superstitions, deep Catholicism, magic, and of course, sex. Thinking theologically with this stuff will be a blast!

Reading Darwin

"Descended from the apes? Dear me, let us hope it is not true-but if it is true, let us hope it does not become widely known." (19th Century Bishop's Wife)

One of the big surprises for me this year was the discovery that the majority of Christians I bump into, either in church or theology classroom, have not read Darwin's On the Origin of Species. I would imagine that there would be a surprisingly small number of people in general who have read the work, but given the tension between church and broader culture over the often polarizing issue of creation versus evolution, one would think that it would be high on the reading list of those who lay claim to faith and wish to engage meaningfully with their own faith and the ideas floating around in the cultural ether, regardless of where they fall in regard to the book and its implications for faith.
So Wednesdays evenings for the next few weeks I am going to be Reading Darwin with a group at All Saints--reading the book, discussing the ideas, and considering faithful responses. It came as no surprise to me that the producers of Creation, the film about Darwin starring Paul Bettany and Jennifer Connelly, can't find U.S. distribution because of the volatile issue the film raises(check out the rather cool and understated web site for the film), but come on--it's the 21st century, not the bloody Middle Ages, can't we engage with an idea before we form an opinion about it?!
One of the things I really enjoy about Graham Ward's theological positioning is his belief that theology should be an attempt to 'reclaim the world' not in the salvific sense of evangelistic proclamation, but that it should not fear bringing everything into dialogue with theology-that nothing should be left outside of its reach, and that everything is game when it comes to grappling theologically with life.
I am going to be reading the anniversary of Darwin's book with a cover designed by Damien Hirst--just because I can.

The In-Betweeny Place: In Bruges

We went to Belgium this week, in the series on faith and film anyway--In Bruges, a fitting capper to a series exploring life/death and all things in between and after. I was a bit surprised that some people expressed concern that anything of value could be found in a profane movie--but it seems to me that a profane film is the perfect resource for people attempting to make sense of their world and something of their faith--profane means outside of the consecrated spaces (fanus-temple)--the unsanctioned places where it seems the richest conversations about faith can often take place because the conversation is freed from certain obligations. In Bruges is, to me anyway, a film about the search for redemption in a world where religion, and specifically the Christian religion, has been either pushed to the edges or simply left behind as society moves in other directions Bruges, one of Europe's most beautiful medieval cities, is also one filled with religious architecture, art, and relics. The Relic of the Precious Blood, a vial supposedly containing some of Christ's blood is there and the film interacts with all this stuff as the central characters try and make sense of the damage they have done. What I found particularly interesting, but didn't really get as much time to talk about was the reference to Hieronymus Bosch's painting of The Last Judgment, and the general use of some of his symbolism in the film's crazy cast of extras and exteriors-dwarfs and Mardi Gras characters, strange happenings, violence and play in the squares and streets of the city, all seem to echo Bosch's work. And of course, the painting is the one thing that really gets to Colin Farrell's character Ray, who is going mad inside because of the innocent child he has killed in a hit-job gone wrong.

Twilight + Technologies of Otherness

Today we talked vampires in the theology/film etc. class. Through the lens of Twilight, the vamp-teen sensation and with reference to HBO's True Blood. The rise of interest in vampires offers some insight into how we are re-learning to broker otherness and difference I think--as did a number of pretty insightful students--insightful, not coz' they agreed with me, but because they had a real handle on the underbelly of hyper-rationality and the emergence of the gothic creature of which the modern vampire is a part. Vampires as we know them emerged via literature in the early 1800s--a modern construct--that helped to process non-rational desire and interest. It was a good conversation, broad in scope and very focused on the ways in which otherness is being dealt with in new ways in the contemporary situation. I thought Twilight was a pretty terrible teen-movie, classic teen movie, but with the interesting vampire equation thrown into the mix. Let The Right One In, Thirst,and some other shows, demonstrate how pervasive the interest/audience for vampires is--a turn of events that comes as a bit of a surprise. Lots of theological connections to be made--particularly on the human/gender front. A few themes have emerged through the films we have watched--beyond the expected or intended ones--the role of time and space as a conceptual shaping force--how we broker otherness--the body as a signifier and site for inscription--pluralities of all kinds--plenty of stuff to work with. The topics brought together in this class are wide and demand total immersion in and of themselves so there is an inherent tension that allows only for a scratching of surfaces, but it is remarkable what a few scratches can bring to light.

PomoTheology/Film/YouthCulture

Posts has been less than regular this past week because on top of an already hectic schedule I have been teaching a two-week intensive on postmodern theology, film and youth culture--intersections that kind of make sense but do create slightly artificial categories to play with. It's been going quite well, I have one person who feels that it is their job to be a pain in the arse, but that is usual--there is always one, if not two, who, in spite of anything that might be said about being open, thinking critically, will instead feel that it is their task to be the person appointed (usually by god in their mind in my experience) to make sure that the class all realize that anything addressed that does not fit this person's particular theological grid(think: uncritical, naive, narrow and intensely modern and you'll be close)is laughable. This opinion will be manifested in a number of ways---too much verbal interjection with no regard for class mates, sighs, eye-rolling, general shifting in the seat to signal disapproval, and a constant voicing of their particular theological issue--which is generally completely removed from the class focus . Luckily, they were not in class today so we didn't have to suffer that and instead we discussed, anime, digital animation, eastern influences on western pop culture and a host of other topics through the lens of Spirited Away, Kung Fu Hustle, Wall-E and a couple of other bits and pieces. Plus a brief homage to John Hughes, whom the LA Times Obituary writer called the J.D. Salinger of this generation.

sympathy 'from' the devil

"If you'll forgive me, Mr. Van Cleve, we just don't want your kind down here." Just one of the great lines from Heaven Can Wait, the Ernst Lubitsch directed film from 1943. I used some of this film, along with the more familiar Warren Beatty film of the same name (not a remake of the earlier film however). Don Ameche plays Henry Van Cleve, a bon-vivant, playboy, casanova who arrives at the gates, well office actually, of hell, the place people have told him all his life he should go to. He is surprised when told by the Devil, and called in this film, His Excellency, that he probably hasn't sinned enough to qualify for entry, so he tells his tale, hoping to convince the devil that he deserves entrance into the portals of hellfire. The Devil, played as the ultimate gentleman, by Laird Cregar, is not convinced by the tale of woe sown by Henry Van Cleve, he recognizes something that others have failed to see, that in spite of his failings, Henry's only 'sin' is in attempting to live life to the fullest and though he might have some trouble getting past the pearly gates there might be, "some small, vacant room in the annex," and that once there he will be re-united with his beloved, and long-suffering wife, Martha. He escorts Henry to the elevator and gives the operator a one-word instruction, "Up!"
The film is a fairly psychologically sophisticated meditation on life, death, heaven and hell, offering a fairly radical departure from the usual sin/salvation  approach that so often characterizes these kinds of meditations. Henry is essentially a good man, a faulted-man for sure, but not a man worthy of hell, at least not in this devil's estimation. There is certainly a case for the sin/salvation approach to scripture, but it is not the singular interpretation available to us, as Walter Brueggemann says "Israel's affirmation of faith is many-sided." He argues that there is another approach which can be taken which "affirms the world, celebrates culture, and affirms human responsibility and capability." In Heaven Can Wait, His Excellency, perhaps surprisingly, becomes the instructor, inviting us to see a little deeper, beyond the veneer of Henry Van Cleve's life and get under his skin. Henry doesn't deserve hell, he thinks he does, but he doesn't qualify, his sort would ruin the place, "as far as I can see you made them all very happy." Henry has a distorted view of his life stumbling over both advertent and inadvertent hurts he has caused over his life but failing to see that love has been his major contribution. This film offers a glimpse of a different approach to life, and perhaps to spiritual living, one in which mistakes are made, consequences lived with, but also life is lived, and lived fully in glorious, messy and complicated love.

heaven+hell

I am begining a four-week series of talks on film this Sunday. This year the topic is heaven and hell, well not really, it's more about the existential questions we ask of life and life asks of us, but h+h are ways of conceptualizing the conversation. Heaven Can Wait, both the Lubitch version of 1943 and Warren Beatty's 1970s flick, will form the background of this week's conversation. Beatty's film is not a remake of the Lubitch directed film of the same name, but each of them deal with the choices and decisions life and death bring to us, and concepts of heaven and hell are devices in each movie. The video at the top of this post comes from Marco Brambilla and is a video created for the Standard Hotel in New York. It is a depiction of the journey from hell to heaven using film techniques and found images--pretty intense for a hotel lobby!!

Wrapping-Up

I finished up the Theology and Culture course last week. It ended pretty much as it began, with a fair amount of animated dialogue and diverse opinions on an array of subjects. We attempted some conclusions, but ultimately got caught up in a discussion about church and politics, the idea of America as a "christian nation" (a very contextual concern!), and ideas about pluralism. Not that we got too far on any of them, but they were questions raised by some students that they wanted to address in some form. There was little time for any lengthy closure, which is fine by me, I am much more interested in creating the space for thinking about stuff than evangelizing people to certain positions. I did talk a little about the multiple-selves that we might need to consider in light of digital culture and the new cultural landscape. I have been helped in my thinking in this particularly by the work of Mark I. Wallace and his book, Fragments of the Spirit.
"...the self is a relay for the exchange of conflicting discourses, not a stable site of timeless transcendence. The self is a dynamic within an artistic process where it must craft and script its own identity in its regular commerce with the cultures and languages it inhabits." (Erasure of Self, pp.22-25,  in Fragments of the the Spirit: Nature, Violence and the Renewal of Creation). I personally think that 'selves' is a better way of thinking about the self in the present context but maybe I am just playing semantics. But I do think we have to engage the self in different directions both in response to, and because of, cultural and technical horizons. I also think that cultural developments, whether it be things like social networks platforms or simply global commodification, create spaces in which the self can become aware of the ways in which it 'works and needs to work.' I began with a picture by Doug Aitken,  filched from Jonny Baker's very fine blog, of an armchair in the desert, an image I have been fixated on for quite some time now (I it used during Lent this year--to speak about the desert as place of self-awareness and preparation for all the other selves). This for me, becomes a potentially new starting point for theological discourse, not the embracing of a pre-assembled systematic grid, but another option for framing god-talk. There were a few other ideas thrown into the mix, but there was not much time to flesh them out . In spite of some sticky moments the class was good for me personally, in that it cemented (a funny word coming from me!) some internal decisions that I have come to with regard to certain theological parameters that I find unhelpful and essentially troubling, and affirmed my commitment to continue on current pathways ( inspired initially by the apophatic but moving increasingly away from the postive/negative continuum towards some new theological approaches) to a different response to the god-questions in life.