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W R I T I N G
Aesthetics come from Eden – an artist’s perspective
- Tinus de Bruyn
Why do we like birdsong? Why do women like flowers? Why do men like feminine beauty? No, it is not just some learned behaviour, or some western cultural phenomenon, as the twentieth century art critics would have it. Aesthetics are part of our make-up, and beauty is a concept as universal as song, dance and picture making. Nevertheless, it has become fashionable to deny the universality of aesthetics, mainly because doing that opens the door to immorality and denying God...
The mathematical structure of aesthetics: The old Greeks understood the underlying mathematical principles of beauty (1). Their great works of architecture were carefully designed according to this “Golden Rule,” because they knew that the most visually pleasing shapes always subscribed to the proportions of the Fibonacci numbers or phi. For instance, the ideal proportions of a person's arms in relation to his body, or the length of his body in relation to his head, are described by the "Golden Rule." A more modern example of how mathematics prescribes beauty can be found in the Marquardt mask is (2). Symmetry is probably the most obvious form of mathematical aesthetic, but even the most bizarre natural shapes can be defined by maths. The complex structures that we see in veins and branches are derived from the mathematical variables found within fractals. Fractals allow organisms to grow hugely complex structures from simple variables (3). The fact that these complex mathematical structures exist, raise questions about the validity of the theory of chance evolution.
Intuitive grasp: What makes it even more remarkable, is the fact that we grasp these mathematical realities intuitively. We know it as beauty, without knowing how we know or why it is. Remarkably, it often is the most “unscientific” and “un-mathematical” individuals who have the best grasp of aesthetics. Because of its mathematical basis, aesthetics cut across cultural boundaries. Regardless of how modern culture may protest the fact, this intuitive grasp of aesthetics places beauty in the same universal category as morality (4).
Rules: Artists have long recognised the fact that aesthetics are governed by various underlying "rules", such as composition, contrast, variety, harmony, form, shape, rhythm, focus or direction. Although they cannot be ignored entirely, the rules of aesthetics may be applied quite flexibly. The artist will not so much ignore the rules as choose between them, which is why modern artists often favour a minimalist aesthetic. They prefer to focus on only one or two "rules", which, because of its "impoverished" aesthetic, may deliver a more profound message.
Idealism rejected: In their obsession with sensual beauty, the ancient Greeks and Italian Renaissance masters idealised the human body. To these old masters, mathematics presented a key to unlocking a universal idealism. Their work is in direct contradiction to that of the modern artists and philosophers who vehemently oppose the idea of a universal aesthetic. In this, it is not the ancients, but the moderns that are at fault. The blasé talk of a relativistic aesthetic seldom extends to the personal lives of these moderns, who continue to seek classical beauty in their environment and women. Parroting these prophets, modern society insists on abandoning idealism and yet continues to idolize feminine beauty. In fact, the more idealism is scorned, the more we become obsessed with feminine beauty. Thus beauty denied remains beauty worshiped, the ridiculous contradictions of the moderns failing to hide the godlike worship we afford it, even in the twisted perversions of anorexic and pornographic female sexuality.
Moral bankruptcy: The abuse of beauty is nothing new. The works of the Romanticists and Neo-Romanticists (such as the nude portrait of “Marie-Louise O'Murphy,” by François Boucher, 1703-1770, Wallraf-Richartz-Museum, or the later “Turkish Bath,” by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1862, Louvre), are examples of how decadent, sentimental and pornographic art can be. Do not be fooled by the superficially austere approach of Caspar David Friedrich either, for the political character of his “Death of Marat’ (1793), is merely a vehicle of narcissism.
Small wonder that late nineteenth and early twentieth century artists were disgusted with this superficiality and sought a more mature approach. They wanted to restore a visual honesty, but of course it could no longer be the pastoral honesty of the seventeenth century Flemish painters (such as Peter Breughel the Elder, “The Wedding,” 1568, Museum of Art History, Vienna, and Frans Hals, “Gypsey Girl,” 1628-1630, Louvre). Instead of this pastoral calm, twentieth century artists were beset with an Hegelian angst. This despair of God was fuelled by industrialization, two World Wars and a post-war pessimism which was voiced by the philosophers of the time. Western culture, established by pastoral, religious peoples, had begun to absorb naturalist ideology. This was a poison to the old values, so that the concept of God became more and more vague, abstracted and mythical. The naked honesty we find in the works of Vincent Van Gogh and Paul Gauguin, resound with this spiritual despair (Paul Gauguin’s “Self Portrait with the Yellow Christ,” 1889-1890, Musée d' Orsay, Paris, as well as the self portraits of Van Gogh, and his “Cafe Terrace at Night,” 1888, Rijksmuseum Kröller-Müller). As this anti-God worldview continued to win more and more public acceptance, the expressions of art became increasingly morbid. The rejection of idealism now made way for extreme pessimism, and with it came a disintegration of values. It was the end of aesthetics, morality, heroism and meaning.
Rejecting truth: As the philosophical climate swung from monotheism to atheism, truth became the next victim. Russell, Wellhauzen, Wittgenstein, Dewey, Wells and others realised that Darwinian evolution logically undermines all absolutes, which must include truth. The result was a rejection of the unified Biblical worldview of the Reformation, in the place of which they constructed a fragmentary and “pluralized” truth. Thus set afloat, it was only a matter of time before truth was effectively trivialized to the point where it could no longer be distinguished from madness and mysticism (5). Alongside these philosophies grew the art of “isms.” Like the rapidly changing fashions of the time, or Dewey’s educational philosophy, change and adaptability became the final truth in art.
Artists in denial: Still following the rules of classical aesthetics, modern artists now have a new rule; denial. Embracing an undernourished aesthetic, which combines a minimum of beauty with a maximum of despair, they became purveyors of unreason and immorality (E.g.: the anti-art of the Dadaists, the surreal madness of Dali, the “conceptualism” of Duchamp, the “shamanic mysticism” of Joseph Beuys and the eventual “Bad Art” of Georg Baselitz). The elements of high art are still very much in use, for without these elements, the artist would no longer have a language with which to convey meaning.
To further emphasize this pessimistic angst, artist again resorted to the very same exploitive devices as their romanticist predecessors, shocking their audiences with the sexually exploitative, blasphemous or grotesquely deformed (like Dali’s paintings of his wife, Gala, or “The temptation of St Anthony, 1946, Musee d'Art Moderne, Brussels). These “shock tactics” were supposed to add credence to the underlying message, supposing that anyone who painted something so despicable had to have a very good reason. But reason had been replaced with unreason, and the shock elements had become the only actual contents of the works. “Serious art” became a slavish reflection of the pessimistic ideas of the philosophers. Depravity had become the only viable “aesthetic,” and anything positive was considered naive, banal and ridiculous.
Ironically, artists could only uphold this worldview in denial of their own self. The underlying truth of aesthetics, of their own liking for pretty women, of flowers and birdsong, did not go away. They had to repress it, seeking instead to paint the colours of midnight, the moral abandon of the nightclubs and the despair of narcissism.
In principle, the artist’s “angst” was nothing short of a wilful rebellion against God, a phony social preference, blatantly in conflict with the self. Most of these artists came from relatively wealthy countries, where they had much more to be thankful for than the Africans, Chinese and Indians of their time. They did not suffer a heavy yoke of bad politics and bad religion that these peoples did, but instead intoxicated themselves with cigarettes, drugs and liquor, artificially forcing themselves into a state of despair.
Today, this same self-contradicting principle continues to rule the world of art. We should not be surprised that Lucien Freud (grandson of Sigmund Freud) paints in the style of the old school, producing works of a high technical calibre, with an excellent sense of aesthetics, and yet humiliates his subjects by painting them in the most exploitive and degrading manner. He takes advantage of the ugliness of his subjects, and not only his subjects, but the viewer also, who is caught between morbid curiosity and empathic disgust. In this appeal, he is admitting the existence of morality, but in exploiting it, denying its validity, thus exposing his own contradiction. He proclaims hopelessness with great energy, dedication, and excellent artisanship, thus proving himself a lair. This kind of self-denial is quite common amongst modern artists. We find the same hard-working and dedicated pessimism in the earlier works of Picasso (Les Demoiselles d'Avignon ,1907, The Museum of Modern Art, New York) and the later works of William Kentridge (South African artists) and Francis Bacon. Who could paint a more brilliant line than Egon Schiele? Yet, the artist uses his excellent aesthetic skills to spit on his subjects. It is a sad testimony to what high art has become.
Where should Christian art go?
Where to? Is there room for such a thing as a Christian art? Both Francis Schaeffer (6) and Hans Rookmaker (7) agree that there should be, but not the “l’art pour l’art” (art for art’s sake) of the world. The Christian worldview is a unified worldview, in which everyone should strive towards a holistic harmony. This leaves no room for a separation of morality, truth and art. The Christian art can only exist in an acknowledgment of the underlying truth of the universe, of its mathematical unity and reasonable structure. In this sense, Christian art is essentially anti-angst and anti self-contradiction. It is always reasonable and essentially hopeful. At least in this very general sense, all Christian art is inevitably evangelistic.
This doesn’t mean that artistic mysticism should be swept aside, for a holistic worldview also includes emotions. As always, imagination and emotion should determine the purpose of a work. The goal of Christian art is not to limit oneself to a stunted realism, or corny positivism, which would only succeed in putting the audience off. True sincerity and maturity goes well beyond simple obedience to rules. As always, truly sincere art is by far the most appealing, and that means art that deals honestly and openly with its own weaknesses. “Soul searching” not only matures the artist, but also makes great art.
There is such an art, and it is available to us even from secular sources. We find moments of this in some of the greatest films of our day; like Edward Zwick’s “Blood Diamond,” Paul Weiland’s “Rosanna’s Grave” and in expressly Christian movies like Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” or Michael Apted’s “Amazing Grace.”
In Christian art, there is no need for a “happy ending,” or a pretty heroine. In fact, Christian artists should use such idealism carefully, for it might easily detract from a correct Christian worldview. According to the Bible, a correct Christian worldview begins and ends with man and God in Eden (idealism). Yet the Bible also shows us that everything in between is quite ugly. In this sense, Christian art should remain realistically balanced, holding true to God’s worldview. An irrational leap into idealism, or an equally irrational cynicism, has no place in it. As fantastical as its expressions may be, Christian art should never be in conflict with its own worldview. Such a conflict would indicate an immaturity on the part of the artist, for it would oppose the Christian worldview, to which the artist subscribes.
At the same time, the correct Christian worldview leaves much room for idealism in the portrayal of Edenic realities, and as much room for pessimism in portraying the post-fall realities. An artist never has to be in conflict with reality, nor is he tied down in legalism. But the artist remains an integrated human being, with social and moral obligations to observe, bearing in mind the effect his/her art has on the broad viewer public. The artist cannot excuse himself from the final effects of the artwork. If a work is not fit for children, it remains the artist’s plight to protect them. As artists, we should manage this social responsibility in a way that heighten our sensitivity, rather than dull our consciences.
The Muse:
The Christian artist should create from the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, much as the Biblical poets did. Our capacity to love, nourish, empathise and bless should be at the heart of our artistic expression. We should be more aware of the spirit of the work, than its technical and intellectual contents, for even the most beautiful work can sometimes contain a false spirit, and the most “Christian” work can be completely void of spiritual content. We should be aware of the godly element in aesthetics, just as we find it in reason and morality.
All art is a form of worship, just as all aesthetics has been designed to glorify God. Whether it is a love poem, a religious song or an adventure story, all art sings in worship to Someone or something.
Worldview:
Without a proper understanding of the perfection of Eden, and the history of sin, there is no way a Christian artists can make sense of the world around him. The conflict of aesthetic idealism and natural truth cannot be resolved otherwise. As Henry Morris said (8), “the first cause of beauty values must be aesthetic.”
So, why do women like flowers, why do men like pretty women and why does everybody like birdsong? Because God made them, and God is beautiful. Whoever denies beauty denies God.
