| | Ben S. sent the following article he found in Relevant Magazine to
me. I don't know much about Relevant Magazine, but it is
interesting to see someone actually wrote an article on a topic that I
really specifically have been thinking about these past three years.
I'll probably post my thoughts on the article when I get back from
Boston at the end of next week along with making a few other posts I've
been brewing for awhile now. So expect a whole slew of entries in about
a week. In the meantime, feel free to comment on the article.
And thanks for the article, Ben.
Doing Art
by Tom Wilkinson
During film school I worked in the digital production lab on campus.
Tours of the college would come through, and my boss would tell each
group of eager-eyed prospectives exactly what we were about: “If you
can think of anything else you could possibly do other than
film—please, please, please, go do that! Go to another school, get a
four-year degree in physics or finance, become a well-educated audience
member and we will gladly take your $10.75 along the way . . .”
At this point, you could tell from the relieved look on some parents
faces how thankful they were for the reality check in their son or
daughter's life. They, after all, only wanted for their child to be
successful with a steady income, which clearly requires a bankable
degree. So can we cut this art school crap, please.
“...but, if you're sick,” he continued, “because everyone who comes to
this school and succeeds has the sickness, that film is the only way of
life. You must be willing to, no, you must long
to eat, breathe and sleep film, to work 14-16 hours a day, forfeit
sleep altogether, and fight through the battle to bring your finished
film to a jaded audience in hopes that someone other than your parents
can appreciate it.”
You could hear the whimpers. Dreams crushed. He was an intimidating
man, a former Hollywood producer speaking from experience—that film
demands your all. And, over the next several years, how to reconcile
what he had said with my faith would become a crucial issue. (And for
me, the next several years were spent learning how to reconcile what he
had said with my faith, and I would like to spend this and a few
subsequent articles exploring why these issues are so critical to us as
Christians in the arts.)
- - - - -
I had a friend get miffed at her husband one time because he introduced
her, “This is my wife, Michelle,” when she considered herself
“Michelle,” a person first, and then a wife. Such distinctions were
important to her and the same should be true for believers working in
the arts.
Living in New York, I'll often meet someone new at a gallery opening
and our conversation will start something like this: “Hi, I'm George,
I'm an artist. What do you do?” The problem this time is not the order,
but that people take something they do (“I paint,” “I work at a bank,”
“I practice homosexuality”) and turn it into an identity. It's
elemental to their world view, a presupposition that colors everything
else, and the foundation for how they live. People build every aspect
of their lives around their identity.
Go to any university, and you can tell almost instantly which students
define themselves as artists; their clothing is often eclectic and
over-hyped, their demeanor either sullen Sylvia Plath, “Woe is me. I
must be depressed to create great art,” or manic ADD, “Look at me. See
how cool I am for being an artist.” They're in love with being artists before they're committed to creating art.
The focus, however, should always be on the art first. We should come
to the act of creation with reverence rather than ego, and the
discipline of a practiced craft rather than pain as our muse, trusting
the process for inspiration rather than waiting for it to show up.
Most importantly, we create art, because like anything else, it is our
calling, discovered by revelation rather than choice. Our commitment as
believers is to follow and glorify our Maker, who set out all our days
before us and planned these good works for us before we were born.
Obedience, then, means following the path He calls us to, wherever it
leads.
Thankfully, God has put desires in our hearts and talents in our hands
for a reason, these things are not arbitrary, the great artist designed
us with intention. But we also can't assume how He plans to work them
out or that this one task of art is what He has called us to forever.
At every step we must listen for His leading.
So if our identity is grounded in God and all that He is to us, the
mentality of tortured artist falls away as we seek to magnify Him with
our work and with our lives, a fragrant offering from the overflow of
our hearts. Joy becomes the catalyst, rather than pain, and God gets
the glory.
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