The places where the divine and the aesthetic intertwine
by Elaine Klaassen
For a central information source on the events and continuing exhibits in the Sacred Arts series, call 612-333-1381.
Until December 11.
Ketubah: Illuminated Jewish Marriage Contracts. Features five contemporary ketubah makers from the Twin Cities area. United Theological Seminary. 651-633-4311.
Until December 14.
Kesa for the Millennium. Prayer robes for each continent designed by fiber artist Betsy Sterling Benjamin. College of St. Benedict — 320-363-5792.
Until December 17.
Karla Ness at Concordia University. 651-641-8740.
Until December 20.
Mark McGinnis at St. Olaf College. 507-646-3556.
Until January 13.
Bronze works by retired professor Hugh Witzmann, a monk at St. John’s Abbey. St. John’s University.
February 7, 8, 9.
Symposium on Divine Perversities: Religion and Contemporary Art in the Public Sphere. University of Minnesota. 612-378-9218.
On a cold weekend in November, eight people and their guide Maureen Koelsch gathered daily for four days in her small Seward neighborhood apartment. Koelsch is a veteran dancer, performer, and teacher, with degrees in dance and human development, who calls herself an imaginarian. The group was made up of dancers, writers, performance artists and retired academics. Dressed in draping, well-worn, nubby sweaters, sweat pants, tie-dyes and tights, they worked together closely in her 13 by 14 foot living room. On the last day they shared the performances they had created. Koelsch described their work as “looking for a way to open up small spaces to share in a universal way.”
The stream-of-consciousness murmer of voices and the quiet swishing, thumping sounds of people moving, sliding, walking and breathing filled the space. Occasionally, spoken fragments like “toasted clothes. . . closet within a closet. . . words going down my arm . .” could be heard. Later, while participants worked in utter stillness, the only sound was that of pens moving on paper and pages turning.
Koelsch created a place to be absolutely present. In one of her exercises she asked the artists to experience connections between their ideas/values and the inner spaces in their bodies.
Cynthia Miller, who has worked with Koelsch in numerous workshops, said,"Whenever I take a workshop with Maureen, I end up feeling more awake, as though my IQ has gone up about 50 points. There’s synesthesia, a crossover of the senses. We began with a minuet, the carefulness and precision of a specific dance step, that makes you willing to experiment within confines."
While Koelsch does not work within a specific religious tradition there is no doubt that her work is a spiritual journey. She easily offered reasons why we need art: "It gives us a creative approach to life, it heals us, touches us deeply, integrates ideas, transcends boundaries and connects lives." Her workshop coincided with the wave of arts and religion events going on currently in the metro area.
Two recent exhibits, if not religious, are certainly spiritual and do much to form and expand the limits of our inner space while bringing a spiritual awareness into the public consciousness. One was Wing Young Huie’s final Lake Street photo exhibit at Intermedia Arts in mid November. His photos celebrate the variety of ways many different people experience life. A connection is made with a particular time and place. The value of a plain, unadorned moment in a person’s life is exposed. The people in the photos are part of the photographer’s life experience and they become part of the viewers’ life experience as well.
The other exhibit is a display of work by four Native American artists, From Four Directions, at Ancient Traders Market Gallery, installed until January 12. Here, there is sacredness in that which is most natural.
Looking at the exquisite craftsmanship and listening to the artists talk about their work, a great love for their materials — clay, bones, stone, beads — is evident. It is also clear that as artists they are not separate from their community — their work is rooted in a sense of self as indigenous and part of that community. In that context, hands that have the gift of creating beauty are honored.
An interest in the more formal relationship between art and religion is seen in the Arts and Religion in the Twin Cities project, organized by the Minneapolis Institute of Art and United Theological Seminary, and in the Sacred Arts Series organized by the Basilica of St. Mary, together with 12 colleges and universities throughout this area. The idea that, perhaps religion does not kill art, or that, perhaps, art doesn’t threaten religion, is in the air.
I was fortunate to get in on the exhibit of Islamic Prayer Rugs at Augsburg that ended in October. From Iran to Pakistan, these mats woven of wool and silk represent a culture that remembers Allah five times a day. That discipline is multiplied tenfold in the discipline of creating the rugs — saying a prayer for each thread woven and each knot tied. The rich reddish brown palettes and stunning designs are as impressive as the perspective, the humility, that prayer creates.
A collection of paintings by Joel Sheesley, Eve in Suburbia, is still on display at Bethel College until December 20. (651-638-6366). Large, clean and bright realistic paintings of daily suburban life with titles like “The Kingdom of Heaven is Like a Net,” or “Lot Frees Sodom” suggest that stories of the Judeo-Christian tradition float beneath the surface in a culture with no overt sacred tradition, according to Bethel College art historian Wayne Roosa.
Two exhibits I especially hope to see are those of Karla Ness at Concordia University and Mark McGinnis at St. Olaf College. Both artists have engaged with unfamiliar cultures and religions to mold and expand their awareness. Ness studied the murla paintings in the caves of Tun-huang in western China. Her works, Sacred Art of the Body: A Feminine View, is an exploration of the feminine approach to Christian art and biblical themes with a Buddhist sense of interactiveness. The six years McGinnis spent researching many religious traditions have resulted in a series of essays and paintings drawing from the imagery of those traditions.
The question, What is religious art anyway? is posed in the film by William Klein, The Messiah, shown in November at the Walker. It gave me a different sense of what George Frederick Handel’s Messiah is about.
The three parts — nativity, passion and resurrection — are claririfed by the use of titles and texts printed on the screen. In the nativity section, the imagery has to do with hope and longing, from footage of casinos in Las Vegas to ecstatic religious services. The second part shows the suffering of the world, violence in crime and in war, as well as depictions of Christ’s suffering in a non-commercial Andalusian Holy Week pageant. The possibility of change and new life is playfully suggested in the scenes of outlandish hair styles and costumes at a masquerade party.
It is not clear whether Klein is mocking the fact that poverty and violence continue in spite of Christ’s sacrifice, or amazed at people’s ability to find the Christian story relevant, or whether he is expressing an enormous compassion for the human race, linked to the compassion of Christ. Is he saying, this is the world that God loves in all its weirdness and sorrow? Whichever it is, the film has forever changed Handel’s oratorio for me.