“a work of art may speak deeply to the heart of an individual”

The Abbey in the Oakwood, Caspar David Friedrich, 1809-10, public domain

The Abbey in the Oakwood

As artists, how do we convey timeless religious themes to an audience that has largely forsaken religion for the vague notion of spirituality? How do we render Christian images of faith and transcendence in a largely post-Christian world?

While there remains an audience for traditional Christian symbols and imagery, there is a growing audience that knows nothing of artistic traditions, doesn’t really care to, and yet still yearns for God to fill that hole in their hearts.

This is not a new problem. One of the lasting effects of the so-called Age of Enlightenment was to remove God from all aspects of our daily life. As a result the continuity of the language of symbols and typology that developed over thousands of years, was disrupted. The Bible tells us that it only takes one generation of poor catechesis for an entire people to lose their faith. It only took one generation to lose an understanding of Christian symbolism, and the road to reclaiming that language has been long and hard.

That was the question artists of the 19th century struggled with. “Making it” as an artist, post enlightenment, meant something very different than it does today. Artists of that time, referring to painters, would create work to enter into shows sponsored by various academies of arts. If accepted they would gain recognition that would lead to lucrative commissions.

Caspar David Friedrich was such an artist. He struggled to find new symbolism for a new age that was more reliant on the capabilities of the individual than of the Almighty. In 1810 he entered two pieces into the exhibition sponsored by the Prussian Academy of Arts. One of those paintings was titled “The Abbey in the Oakwood.”

While not an explicitly religious work, Friedrich’s intent was to comment on issues related to human life. “The Abbey in the Oakwood,” shows a funeral procession passing through the doorway of the ruins of a gothic church or abbey. The shadowy figures make their way to a cemetery that has fallen into disrepair, evidenced by the leaning crosses haphazardly scattered throughout the foreground.

The overall sense of the work is a coldness. The lower third of the painting is in shadow while the upper two thirds silhouette a grove of barren oak trees. It feels like a scene in the dead of winter, lonely and forsaken. High above the tableau is a waxing crescent moon.

Friedrich’s intent was to illustrate the transience of human affairs. Time passes. Humans pass. The work of man crumbles to dust, but nature remains, nature is forever.

While that may have been the intent of the artist it is easily open to other interpretations, such as the state of the Church in the first half of the 19th century. One might see the ruined abbey as a comment on the struggles of the Church to come to terms with the modern age. While that may not have been the intent of the artist, is it any less a valid interpretation?

We are made in the image and likeness of God. As such there are transcendent truths that we know by heart because they are part of how we are made. While we may not acknowledge them as such they nevertheless impact our perceptions and understanding of the world around us.

Night with her Train of Stars, Edward Robert Hughes, 1912, public domain

Night with Her Train of Stars

One of the most famous paintings by Edward Robert Hughes is “Night with Her Train of Stars.” It was inspired by the poem, “Margaritae Sorori” by W.E. Henley. The painting shows an allegorical figure of Night cradling an infant in her arms. With a finger to her lips she quiets the cherubim who throng about her. The poem connects Night with Death and an eternal sleep after “my task accomplish’d and the long day done.” Such was the intent of the artist.

I once saw a print of this painting in a parish office. The secretary told me how much she loved this work because in her mind it represented the Blessed Mother gathering to herself the souls of all the children who were victims of abortion. Obviously, this was not the idea the artist had in mind when he painted it, but who is to say it is not a valid interpretation?

It has been noted that Steven Spielberg’s 1982 movie E.T. is full of Christian symbolism. When this was mentioned to the director he made it clear that it was never his intent to have E.T. interpreted as a Christ-like figure. He said, (jokingly) “If I ever went to my mother and said, ‘Mom, I’ve made this movie that’s a Christian parable,’ what do you think she’d say? She has a kosher restaurant on Pico and Doheny in Los Angeles.”

Outside of Liturgical or Sacred Art, which has the express purpose of drawing the viewer beyond the art to contemplate heavenly things, art may serve a variety of purposes. The artist may have a specific intent in creating the work but once it is “out in the world” so to speak, it is open to interpretation by everyone who sees it.

Without ever intending it, a work of art may speak deeply to the heart of an individual and cause them to return to the faith of their childhood or affirm their existing faith. This is how God works. We may never know why we are given the gift of artistic ability but it may be to save one soul who we will never meet. That is Divine Providence.

Pax vobiscum