Vatican Congregation Restructured to Emphasis the Importance of Sacred Art and Music

In a very hopeful move the Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments will be restructured to focus much more strongly on art and music in the liturgy. This follows directly an moto proprio issued by the Pope in September. The full article in the CNA here (h/t Sara Kitzinger). We all keep our fingers crossed. Whether or not this has a good effect depends upon how standards are judged by those involved and how they are communicated through the Church. One of the great shapers of my sense of liturgical art and the form that is appropriate for the liturgy is the small, but rich, passage about sacred art in his book The Spirit of the Liturgy. If we see this understanding permeating what is done, then it could be very powerful.

We can't take it for granted, however. I have seen enough initiatives involving art historians and experts, some even started by Pope Benedict in which he then had little direct involvement. The result was  that although the words about beauty and liturgy at its inception sound good, when I saw the form of the art that they felt embodied it, it was disappointing and puzzling, to say the least.

St Luke and Our Lady, pray for us.

The image below is by an unknown Russian icon painter, of St Luke painting the icon of the Mother of God Hodegetria

Bringing Traditional Proportion into the Design of a Rock Garden

Traditional proportion can be incorporated into the design of just about anything once you know how. Here is an example a rockery (as we say in England) or 'rock garden', as I think Americans refer to it. It is part of the developing garden at the Thomas More College future campus at Groton, Massachusetts. We placed rocks into a steep bank in three tiers. The relationship between the three lines is based upon traditional proportion in which the first relates to the second as the second relates to the third. The spacing and change of angle is intuitively applied. Top left are three lines I have painted in watercolour on paper to illustrate. The designers of the basic shape of the arrangement of rocks in the garden were three students at Thomas More College in( alphabetical order!) - Cecilia Black, Nicole Martin and Erin Monfils. Once three walls had been put in, it was clear that they were unstable. We get heavy snow in the winter and it was likely that the snow would collapse each little wall. So without straying from the basic shape I stepped each wall into the bank in such a way that it imitates natural outcrops of stratified rock (or that was the idea anyway - I'm just a beginner and this is as about as close as I can get what I remember in my parents' garden).

I also introduced some deviations from the simple original shape so that while still following the general form, it looked less rigidly applied. So occasionally the line twists in a concave rather than convex way. In doing this I was trying to remember what I had seen my dad do in the rockeries at home. He was using sandstone (the natural rock of the Wirral peninsula in Cheshire, England). The photographs below show the gradual progression.

First, the bed is full of giant and old lilac plants. These were removed.

Then our gang turned their attention to putting the stones in the steep bank you see at the back of the above picture. You can see also how we have gradually planted it out with perennials. The hope is that next year these will come back more strongly and fill in the gaps. I don't feeling like another season of constant weeding.

Above, the three 'walls' and below after they have been stepped and softened.

Creativity and Fun with Substance

Dudley Moore parodying Beethoven piano sonato and Schuber lieder ('Die Flabberghast') I saw the first video below on Damien Thompson's blog on The Daily Telegraph website. It is Dudley Moore playing his own composition, a parody of a Beethoven piano sonato based on the melody of Colonel Bogey (or if you prefer the tune from the Bridge Over the River Kwai). It is recorded in the Sixties. I have spoken about how important creativity within a tradition is for keeping it alive and opening the door that leads to the timeless principles that are at its core for modern audiences. In the context of sacred music, I described this a need for composers whose work has the quality of noble accessibility, see here.

This is not sacred music, but it is just the sort of creativity that will open the door to the real thing, drawing people in through more than just he music. I find it brilliantly funny.

Moore was organ scholar at Magdalen College, Oxford. After university he achieved national prominence as  jazz pianist and then as part of the Beyond the Fringe comedy quartet with Alan Bennet, Jonathan Miller and Peter Cook. Jonathan Miller, who went on to become a famous opera director (among other things) is the figure opening the piano lid for him before he performs. Alan Bennet and Peter Cook especially also became household names in Britain. Bennet is a playwright and Cook a comedian with whom Moore eventually formed a famous duo.

All were at Oxford University. This creativity is encouraged by the form of education that exists at Oxford and in form (if not so much in substance any more) is based upon the medieval university. I am always amazed that more educational institutions do not copy this given the success of the two universities, Oxford and Cambridge, that bear the mark of the medieval university today. All those in continental Europe were destroyed by Napoleon and re founded on a different organisational model. American universities and colleges, even the Catholic ones, are almost all based upon this later, German model. I have written about this here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GazlqD4mLvw

Here is another video, this time Moore's parody of a Schubert Lieder 'Die Flabberghast'

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idBZPteNJxs&feature=related

Podcast for 'Catholic Vitamins' about Icons

I was recently interviewed by Tom Fox of the Catholic Vitamins website (www.catholicvitamins.com). He wanted to talk about icons and this came under the heading of O for Orans, You can hear the interview here. I have to admit I had forgotten when doing the interview that the connection that had sparked off the interview was the orans prayer position - in which the person is standing with arms raised - because Tom associated it with icons that he had seen. As a result I was caught off guard at he end of the interview when he asked me about it and wasn't able to say very much. I hope he will forgive me.

So, about two weeks too late, I will pass on a little bit more. This ancient prayer posture is indeed seen in icons - left is an icon I painted of St Victoria; and below of the Mother of God (not by me). One of the things that always strikes me when I go to Eastern Rite churches is the way that they pray standing and especially if addressing a saint, will face the icon with an open posture. Hands will often be down by their side. I remember now that when I asked my teacher Aidan about this he told me that they always pray standing because it emphasises that we are raised up to the divine - we 'partake of the divine nature' - and so enter into a personal relationship with the Father , through the Son, in the Spirit. This is the dynamic of the liturgy. this posture and that of the orans prayer position, which is similar, does emphasise the enhanced status of man. It makes him on the same level, in a manner of speaking, as God.

Western posture in prayer tends to emphasise as well humility and our absolute need for God through kneeling. We do pray standing as well. During the Mass, for example, the priest says, 'let us pray' and at that point the congregation stands for the prayers. Aidan told me that Orthodox Christians, unlike Roman Rite Catholics would not pray kneeling at all. There were no pews or kneelers in the Orthodox churches that I have attended.

Quoting the Eminently Quotable - Newman on the Veneration of Images

I am currently reading a new book on Newman which has recently come to my notice. It is The Quotable Newman - Definitive Guide to His Central Thoughts and Ideas. Published by Sophia Press it is compiled by Dave Armstrong with a forward written by Joseph Pearce.

It is arranged by topic in alphabetical order, over 100 of them taken from 40 different documents, and under each topic, for example, Original Sin, the Fall of Man there are a series of quotations, usually up to a couple of paragraphs long on each topic. To someone like me who does not know the full body of Newman's well (to put it mildly) this arrangement is helpful.  It seems to me that I can access directly and quickly what Newman actually said and then if I wish to investigate further, seek elsewhere the document in full via the reference. This is otherwise difficult because the titles of the documents do not always tell you what he is speaking about eg Letter to the Duke of Norfolk.

So, from the section Images, Use and Veneration Of, I have a couple of things that caught my eye: 'In England Catholics pray before images, not to them. I wonder whether as many as a dozen pray to them, but they will be the best Catholics, not ordinary ones. The truth is that sort of affectionate fervour which leads one to confuse an object with its representation, is skin-deep in the South and argues nothing for a worshipper's faith, hope and charity, whereas in a Northern race like ours, with whom ardent devotional feeling is not common, it may be the mark of great spirituality. As to the nature of the feeling itself, and its absolute incongruity with any intellectual intention of addressing the image as an image, I think that it is not difficult for anyone with an ordinary human heart to understand it. Do we not love the pictures we have of friends departed?... Will not a husband wear in his bosom and kiss the miniature of his wife? Cannot you fancy a man addressing himself to it, as it were reality?' [p191, taken from Letter to William Robert Brownlow, 25 October, 1863]

I cannot comment on the differences between northern and southern Catholics, but I think his observation about many of the Catholics I see is still very true today. The contrast between how Eastern Catholics, such as the Melkites, engage with the images of the saints as they pray to them, struck me long ago. The Easterners tend to turn and facing them as though the person was there and addressing the saint by looking at his face - this becomes part of the activity of liturgical worship. Whereas, in the Roman Rite churches, even if beautifully adorned, there is much less obvious direct engagement with the image. Even if Mary's image is there, I don't see people looking at her as they pray and when she is addressed by name in the same way. It isn't the only way to pray of course and there are devotions in which the image is an integral part, such as the Stations of the Cross; but the general lack is telling, I think. This is something that I think has a profound effect on the culture. The the more our senses, including the visual, are engaged directly during prayer with beauty that supports and intensifies our prayer, not only will it encourage the right interior disposition, but it profoundly forms our taste and sense of the beautiful, so changing what we choose and delight in outside the church. This, I believe, is how the culture of faith and wider culture can be powerfully connected again. In the Spirit of the Liturgy, Pope Benedict XVI talks of this separation of the two cultures and how serious this is. He says that this happened by the 19th century, when Newman lived.

A talk in Madison, Wisconsin

For those who are within striking distance of Madison, Wisconsin, I am giving a talk on Saturday (November 3rd) at the Chazen Museum of Art in Madison as part of a series of events to support a travelling exhibition of works belonging to the Uffizi gallery of Florence, Italy. It is a great honour to be asked to give this presentation and to share the platform with the curator of paintings at the Chazen Museum of Art, Maria Saffiotti Dale. More details of the museum and the exhibition - Offering of the Angels: Paintings and Tapestries from the Uffizi Gallery -  can be found here. There is one gothic painting and the others are Renaissance or Baroque. There are 45 rarely seen paintings from the great Florentine gallery, including works by Lorenzo Monaco, Botticelli, Tintoretto and Titian. In my talk I will discuss how the style of these periods is influenced by Christian theology and philosophy with particular reference to some of the paintings in the exhibition.

  Luca Giordano (1634–1705), The Ascent to Calvary, 1685–1686

The Treasury of Ornament - Pattern in the Decorative Arts, by Heinrich Dometsch.

Here is a book worth considering for students of traditional patterned art. The series is the Library of Design and the title is Treasury of Ornament - Pattern in the Decorative Arts by Heinrich Dolmetsch.  This and a number of similar books by the author are available here. I came to it by way of one of the freshman students at Thomas More College, Meg Berger, who has a personal interest in these traditions. It is a recent publication of a book first produced around the turn of the last century in Germany, the first English edition coming out in 1908. Each plate is an arrangement of up to 15 or so different patterns from different original sources in each classification discussed. He covers both 'hard' geometric patterns and 'soft', more calligraphic forms in ancient non-Christian and Christian traditions, East and West. Particular examples are numerous plates in each category of Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Chinese, Japanese, Arabian, Turkish, Persian and Indian. Two thirds of 85 plates are Christian covering Celtic, Western 'medieval', Byzantine, and Renaissance styles.

This will be of interest, I think, to those who are seeking to re-establish (or perhaps one might say at the very least reinvigourate) the Christian tradition of geometric and patterned art. While one does not want to look exclusively at Christian traditions now any more than those who formed these traditions in the first place did, one must look discerningly at the art of non-Christian cultures. The principle of universality is very important in this process of discernment. (though not the only one). The task, therefore in studying the art of other cultures is to try to separate out the universal qualities from the parochial. This is not absolutely straightforward. We might look for visual elements that are common to all of course. That is helpful, but also restricting because as every general principle is manifested through the creation of a particular example it might cut out some forms that are worthy of consideration even though unique.That is because principles are unchanging, but their application is not. We might have two distinct forms that neverthless participate fully in one governing principle. In other words the idea behind two things that look quite different, might be the same. It is that idea that we are trying to discern.

A way of looking at universality was described to me recently by Thomas More College's Composer i Residence, Paul Jernberg. As a composer he is always trying to create new applications of the general principles that define sacred music. He talks of particular forms, with plainchant being the best exemplar, that might characterise a time and place, but nevertheless are accessible to people who are not from either. Universality, is therefore, another way of describing this noble accessibility.

In the context of art, a lot of this will be a judgement call on the part of the artists. We cannot always define precisely what it is we are looking for, but that does not mean we should not try. If we ask the question, at least, will this appeal across different cultures, then we are more likely to get a satisfactory result.

The images below are, from the top: Byzantine, Chinese, French Renaissance, Italian Renaissance, Arabic-Moorish, and Italian Renaissance pottery.

Parkgate: a Victorian Sea Front and a Late 20th Century Bird Reserve

Is a bird reserve created by heavy industry  a natural or an unnatural landscape? I grew up in a place called Neston, within a mile from my home there is the old seaside resort of Parkgate. It is on the estuary of the River Dee on the border between northwest England and north Wales. (Directly over the estuary on the Welsh side is the town of Holywell feartured last week.) I took these photographs during the visit earlier this year. I thought that readers will find the elegant Victorian seafront buildings interesting, but would be puzzled as to why they would build it on a marsh? This is an interesting story I think. A hundred years ago this was a thriving seaside resort with a promenade with a wall and railings and stone steps, made out of the local red sandstone, going down to the beach. The estuary here was tidal and the waters came up to the sea wall at high tide and then retreat miles at low tide, revealing a huge expanse of sand. When my family came to live closeby in the 1960s it was still there and Parkgate was known in the wider area for a shop that sells homemade ice cream. There was even a tide-filled seawater swimming pool open to the public. Then gradually the beach began to be overgrown with a natural hybrid grass called spartina. One of the things that allowed this grass to grow was that a steel company, some miles further down the estuary, took the river waters for its industrial processes. In order to do this they change the course of the river and the tides didn't cover the sand as often - only at the very high spring tides, about twice a year.

At first, people were unhappy with this. Here was heavy industry messing with the natural landscape. I can remember as a boy going to lecture about the threat of spartina grass and the speaker asking for volunteers to go and pull it out of the muddy sand and keep the estuary clear. It was a forlorn task and people soon gave up. Then something started to happen. The new wetland terrain that was created started to attract birds and birdwatchers flocked to the area to sea rare waders and shore birds such as Marsh Harriers and Hen Harriers. Now, 40 years later it is an award winning bird reserve that is listed as an area of outstanding natural beauty on the RSPB website.

The steelworks, at Shotton in Wales, has changed hands several times since I was a boy and is now owned by Tata Steel, the Indian steel company. As far as I know its future and so that of the Parkgate Marsh Harriers are secure for the moment. But no company lasts forever and so one wonders, what will the environmentalists do if the steel company were to close? Would they let the river resume its natural course, so submerging the wetlands and destroying the manmade habitat of the birds? Or would they campaign for the preservation of the steel plant for the sake of the birds? For the Christian, there is no such dilemma. Man is as natural as as Marsh Harrier and making steel is a natural activity for man.  So faced with a choice of keeping a manmade environment or one that is less affected by man, I would just choose the one I preferred. I this case, I'm not sure I could make up my mind, although as a boy I always wished that the swimming baths had stayed open. Either way, events will take their course; but should the steel company ever face closure (which I hope is a long way off) if we wanted to save it we would have to face the fact that man is as much part of the ecosystem as the black-tailed godwit. Would the plight of the Meadow Pipin push the Shotton steel plant into the category of being 'too big to fail', along with companies such as Barclay's Bank and Bank of America?... I wonder.

It was a rainy day when I visited, so you'll have to imagine the sunny seaside scene. In case you are interested, the ice cream shop survives to this day. I was only able to download one photograph of the old Parkgate, so I refer to a site, here, that has photographs of these sites in 1939, when it was a seaside resort. Thank you to the Francis Frith collection for the photo above.

Below we have what remains of the old swimming baths.

And just in case anyone makes the trip. The ice cream shop is on the right, below.

Floor Tiles from Cleve Abbey in Somerset, England

Here are some pictures of 13th century tiles from Cleeve Abbey in England. They are a combination of geometric and pictorial designs. The latter employing heraldic and literary themes rather than scriptural. The form will be familiar to some through the Victorian neo-gothic tiles that are more common today, and which were based on designs from this period. I am admirer of the later forms as well, incidentally. I view as an authentic re-establishment of a past tradition and worth looking at not only for the architecture and tiles of the period, but also as case study on how to look to the past in a constructive way. Thanks to Deacon Iacono of the Fra Angelico Institute of Sacred Art who brought them to my attention by referring me to an historical account given in the L'Historien Errant blog.

Above: the abbey church floor; and below: the refectory floor. The others are details of the refectory.

Lessons from Our Lady of Sorrows on our Response to the Suffering of those we Love

The model of loving compassion for others who are suffering. September the 15th was the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. I found the liturgy of the Church on this day very instructive and inspirational. The message I get from this is for me, powerful, vigorous and inspiring. The writing of St Paul and St Bernard on the matter speaks of virtue in the fullest sense of the word. It is interesting to me that so much modern devotional art of Our Lady of Sorrows - Mater Dolorosa - is, to my eye, almost all sentimental and weak. The Spanish baroque and the Flemish gothic masters are for me the model of portraying negative emotion transcended with joy that is powerful yet calm.

One of the most difficult things to deal with in life is the grief we feel when someone whom we love is suffering and we are powerless to do anything about it.

My experience tells me that this can have two components. That born of self-centredness, which is a bad feeling; and one born of love, which is opens the door to intense joy. It is this latter point that has come home to me through the liturgy on this feast day by pointing to the model of Our Lady.

When I am driven by self-centredness, I look at the person who is suffering and I feel sorry for myself. This self-pity can be intense and almost unbearable as long as I see the other's suffering as the cause of my anguish. The cause is my personal response, and I have some control over that.  It is easy to decieve myself and think that this is an expression of love, but such empathy can very easily be rooted in self-centredness and be profoundly destructive to my life, while doing nothing to help the other person either. If I put myself in the other person's shoes through my imagination, I might do this so vividly that I feel sorry for myself. At a mild level this is why I feel embarrassed for someone if he makes a fool of himself in front of many people. I am not so much concerned for him, but rather imagining myself in his position so that I feel the self-pity that I would feel if I were in his shoes. Hence the discomfort.

At a deeper level, when someone we love is the author of his own suffering, perhaps an alcoholic or a drug addict, then our suffering can be driven not so much by the loving reaction of ‘how can you do this to yourself?’ but rather, ‘how can you do this to me?’. If there is a sense that the suffering is as a result of fate, then we can find ourselves directing that resentful complaint to God.

One way of dealing with this that I have heard of is to stop the habit of imagining ourselves in the shoes of the other. This is not always a good thing. A cold, uncaring detachment is heartless and shuts out all joy in our lives too. It is a response that lacks both empathy and sympathy.

There is a different sort of detachment in which we do not empathise, but we do sympathise with the suffering and act with love. So we act lovingly towards the other, but do not share in the emotions that they are experiencing as we do it. I have heard this described by some as ‘detaching with love’. Certainly this is greatly preferable to the self-centred anguish that causes us to feel sorry for ourselves when others are suffering. For many of us this may be the best approach for us to aim for, particularly if we are trying to break out of  the bad habit of an instinctive reaction of a self-pity – empathy based upon self-centredness - to the suffering of others. When we become aware of the root of our emotions, it is certainly possible to develop an habitual attitude of mind that corresponds to this. In the ideal however, this would be a route to another, higher response which is one of a loving empathy. This is where Our Lady is the model.

The highest response to the suffering of others is a compassionate grief; and this one that is transcended by joy. This is the grief felt by Our Lady at the foot of the cross as she gazed at her suffering Son. It is an anguish born of love and as with all that arises from love it opens our hearts so that we can have a fuller union with God and experience an even greater joy.

In order for me to try to understand this, I had first to consider the situation when I am the one who is suffering directly, rather than worrying about the suffering of another. I know that God always gives us grace to deal with any situation and through cooperation with His grace, we can transcend any injustice and any suffering. When this occurs the suffering is not necessarily removed, but is as likely to be overwhelmed by the sheer joy of experiencing God’s consoling love. The writings of the saints indicate just how powerful this joy in suffering is. In order to experience this, I must first remove any self-centred feelings and resentment that I may have.

If that consolation is there for us when we are experiencing suffering directly, then it is there too when we experience pain or injustice indirectly, arising from and empathetic sharing in the suffering of others.

However, this is true only to the degree that our anguish arises from love. It if arises from a self-centred desire to right the suffering of others then we shun God’s grace. We must first free ourselves of that resentful attitude and to do this one might have to go back a step and adopt the ‘detach with love’ approach. When our anguish is a sharing in the suffering of others born of love for them, then it is a sharing also in Christ’s suffering on the cross. It is holy suffering that opens the door to a greater joy.

The Church’s liturgy on the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows is very instructive on this. In the readings of the day there is a long passage from a sermon of St Bernard of Clairvaux. He describes Our Lady’s anguish at the foot of the cross as real, but arising from a genuine compassion that is born of charity ie love. He calls it a ‘martyrdom of the soul’: “We rightly speak of you as more than a martyr, for the anguish of mind you suffered exceeded all bodily pain.'Mother behold your son!' These words were more painful than a sword thrust for they pierced your soul and touched the quick where the soul is divided from the spirit. Do not marvel brethren, that Mary is said to have endured a martyrdom in her soul. Only he will marvel who forgets what St Paul said of the Gentiles that among their worst vices was that they were without compassion. Not so with Mary! May it never be so with those who venerate her. Someone may say: ‘Did she not know in advance that he Son would die?’ Without a doubt. ‘Did she not have sure hope in his immediate resurrection?’ Full confidence indeed. ‘Did she then grieve when he was crucified?’ Intensely. Who are you brother, and what sort of judgment is yours that you marvel at the grief of Mary any more than that the Son of Mary should suffer? Could he die bodily and she not share his death in her heart? Charity it was that moved him to suffer death, charity greater than that of any man before or since: charity too moved Mary, the like of which no mother has ever known.’(From the Office of Readings, Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows)

Following this is a quote from St Paul in his Letter to the Colossians in which he says directly that this sharing in Christ’s sufferings through love is a source of happiness: ‘It is now my happiness to suffer for you. This is my way of helping to complete, in my poor human flesh, the full tale of Christ’s afflictions still to be endured, for the sake of his body which is the Church.’(Col 1:24-25).

The antiphon for the Benedictus on Lauds for that day echoes this and takes it even further: ‘Rejoice grief stricken Mother, for now you share in the triumph of your Son. Enthroned in heavenly splendor, you reign as queen of all creation.’

The idea of 'bright sadness' is often associated with the expression of saints in icononographic art. This ideal of a loving grief in response to the suffering of another is, it seems, a bright sadness or perhaps even a peaceful anguish – an anguish burning with the fire of love that overwhelms and transcends all before it and gives an intense joy. The first painting is 17th century by Ribera, the next three are 15th century Flemish by Dirk Bouts except for the third which is by Rogier Van Der Weyden. The next two are by Ribera and Murillo and are 17th century baroque; the final one is by El Greco, who although earlier - 16th century - conforms to baroque form in this painting.

In both sets the artist is showing constraint in portraying emotion, it is there, but there is a strong sense of peace in the expressions of Our Lady in each case.

FSSP School in Ottowa implements Catholic Art Curriculum Based on the Writing of Benedict XVI

A Curriculum that Incorporates Pope Benedict XVI's thoughts from his book The Spirit of the Liturgy. I have featured before work by the Canadian Orthodox sculptor Jonathan Pageau. I admire Jonathan's work and what is useful for a blogger like me, he talks interestingly and eloquently about his work, and is happy to supply lots of photographs. Some time ago he contacted me and asked for some help in designing an art curriculum for a Catholic school in Ottowa. I gave him a summary of my idea:

1. Copying, with understanding, works of Masters in the great liturgical traditions of the Church - the baroque, the gothic and the iconographic. These are the three described in his chapter on art in the book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, by Pope Benedict XVI. Students are taught how theology relates to form as they copy great works. Studying geometry and traditional proportion
2. Studying nature direct.
3. A liturgical life that incorporates prayer with visual imagery.

Jonathan's curriculum is up and running and he has incorporated my suggestions with a lot of careful thought and many more good ideas of his own. I was thrilled to read recently of his work in an article posted on the New Liturgical Movement website. The quality of the work produced by the children is high and he describes how pleasing it is to see their progress. There seems to be one omission in his plan. I do hope you're going to teach them relief sculpture Jonathan.

Jonathan's website is here.

He wrote on the NLM:

Notre-Dame-du-Mont-Carmel (NDMC) is a small Catholic private school run by francophone parish members of the St-Clement parish in Ottawa. It offers a classical curriculum and traditional catechism to about 60 students presently from kindergarten to 10th grade.

The Principal of this school is an old friend of mine, with whom along with a few others, I had rediscovered the meaning and value of Tradition. This path finally brought me to Eastern Orthodoxy while leading him towards FSSP and traditional Catholicism. Some time ago my friend and I had discussed the possibility of my teaching art for them. As a liturgical artist with a desire to reawaken the traditional arts and their theological importance, this opportunity was one I could not refuse.

By considering the best of Catholic art, and after a bit of advice from David Clayton, I set up the curriculum around Pope Benedict XVI's theory of art as expressed in his book:“The Spirit of The Liturgy”. The approach is anchored highly on the human person as an image of God and how the invisible and visible meet in Man. This means that we take image making from two poles, one which is based on proportion, rule and ideal, and one which is based on observation, detail and particularity. Drawing exercises move along those poles as we work towards finding balance between the two. All students begin by learning to draw a face through discovery of proportion, balance and symmetry found therein. This approach is extended to the human body. Then as the children perfect their knowledge of the ideal form, they will also be brought to draw strictly from observation, a hand, a drapery or another child’s face. As the student’s knowledge grows, we integrate basic Christian iconology, and so for example the children will learn the elements of a crucifixion and will be asked to produce one based on what they have learned, copying as well from traditional images.

I have found this approach to give amazing results as even the children that seemed to have the least “talent” have advanced their drawing skills by leaps and bounds and have learned to enjoy something they had once found daunting.

Pope Benedict’s theory of the three great Catholic Artistic traditions, namely Iconographic, Gothic and Baroque, forms the backdrop for the Art History and Theory we look at with the older kids. This had brought up several surprising and thoughtful discussions. The most striking to me has been the question of what is “Real”. I was not surprised to discover that the students had an immediate attraction to Baroque forms, and the reason they gave me was that it was more “realistic”, that it was more “true” than what they saw in Iconography. In pondering this question with them, I asked them if it was “true” that an object was smaller as it was further away from the viewer... Another questions I posed was if since we recognize a person by his face, whether the back of the head is as “real” or “true” as the face. These theoretical considerations encourage the older students to meditate on some of the deep issues that have very much to do with the relationship between the ideal and particular that we simultaneously explore in the drawing exercises.

I leave you with a series of drawings made by the students that reflects the approach we have chosen for our art curriculum. I couldn't let the chance go without some of Jonathan's work, so that is at the bottom!

Dr Caroline Farey of the Maryvale Institute to Participate in Vatican Synod on New Evangelisation

Dr Caroline Farey of the Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, has been appointed as a participant in the forthcoming Synod of Bishops, in Rome, dedicated to the 'the new Evangelisation and the Transmission of the Faith'.

Caroline is a regular contributor to the Sower magazine writing on art (among other things) and she is a co-creator (along with yours truly) of the Maryvale Course, Art, Beauty and Inspiration from a Catholic Perspective. she and I teach this course in Kansas City each summer. Those who know The Way of Beauty well will be aware of her writing because she has guest written a number of my weekly postings. She offers a great deal more than her knowledge about art. She is in charge of catechetical formation at the Maryvale Institute with special interests and qualifications in philosophy as well as art. She received her doctorate from the Lateran Pontifical University in Rome.

It is heartening for me that someone whom I recognize as having a very deep and authentic knowledge of the Church's artistic traditions and the connection with the liturgy has been asked to participate at such an event.

The  world Synod of Bishops, dedicated to the new evangelisation meets at the Vatican, October 7-28.

Those who are interested in taking the Maryvale course, a one year diploma at degree level, should contact either the Maryvale Center at the Diocese of Kansas City, Kansas or the Maryvale Institute in Birmingham, England.

Is Shooting Turkeys Natural? I Say Blast Away!

Laws designed to protect the environment, but which favour it by restricting man's natural activity will inevitably lead to the demise of both. This is because man - even modern man - is an essential and natural component of the ecosystem. I recently visited my friend and an old friend of Thomas More College  Fr Roger Boucher on his farm up north of here deep in rural New Hampshire. I have written about his place before - Serving the Common Good in Rural New Hampshire.

Fr Boucher is a retired navy chaplain (he is Commander Boucher) and he lives on a farm on the top of a hill that has wide views (which even the government agrees are wonderful, for it taxes his property at a higher rate because of it) that include the White Mountains and lakes. Part of his income comes from the harvesting of Maine blueberries on his land. A company comes and harvests them and distributes them, and it pays Fr Boucher. The are naturally growing blueberries. They are smaller, but much sweeter than the usual blueberries. If the trees are cleared then the sunlight strikes the ground and the dormant root system of blueberries comes to life and starts to grow.

Fr Boucher has a turkey problem. A family of turkeys can clear a field in a week so he wants to scare them off. The traditional way of dealing with them would be this: shoot a turkey and leave it there. The turkey attracts a fox which will eat it. The arrival of the fox scares off the remaining turkeys so he need not shoot them all to save his blueberries. This buys time for the blueberries to become ripe, the company comes in and harvests them and pays Fr Boucher. The problem is that the law has changed, says Fr Boucher, to reflect the green, environmentally aware attitudes of city and surbanites who have started to buy up local property. He is not allowed to shoot the turkeys. Because the crop is not 'planted' but is already there and so grows without further cultivation, it is considered natural, and therefore natural also for turkeys to eat them. It is considered unnatural therefore for man to seek to stop them doing so by shooting them.

The problem is that while it is true that the blueberries are indigenous and grow naturally, the terrain they need to grow requires the activity of man to create it. Without man clearing the trees they would not grow. For the Christian this is no surprise, for man is natural too and his activity, when well directed, is as much a part of the ecosystem as every other creature's and in fact is the most important part.

When man clears the trees, the blueberries grow, so we have more blueberry bushes. The turkeys get to eat the blueberries. While they do not get all the blueberries they would like, and one dies at the hand of man, they still get more to eat than if there were not blueberry bushes at all.  This means that there are more turkeys as a result of this arrangement. The fox gets to eat a turkey or two that otherwise it wouldn't. So we have more foxes. Because we have more blueberries to harvest Fr Boucher gets his income and it contributes to the livelihoods of those working for the harvesting company. And finally, thousands of people get the chance to eat Maine blueberries and at a lower market price, because there are more blueberries.

If Fr Boucher is stopped from shooting a turkey then there are less blueberries, less turkeys, less foxes, less income for several families and less food for man to eat. Eventually he will be forced to stop the cultivation of the farm, trees will grow back (and we already have plenty of them, look at the photos of the surrounding countryside) and turkeys, blueberries, foxes and several families lose out.

This is a nice example of how a philosophical error leads to very real detrimental effects for man and for animals. At the root of the law stopping Fr Boucher from shooting his turkey (it is on his land), is the assumption that when man shoots a turkey it is unnatural and will be damaging the ecosystem. For the Christian, man is not only an essential element to the ecosystem, but he is also the highest because he has dominion over it. It is natural for man to use his intellect to achieve his aims and this means using tools. Whether it is a stick to beat it with, or a gun to shoot it with, it is natural for him to kill turkeys; if it is in accordance with good stewardship of the environment.

It should be pointed out that man is capable of acting in such a way that is contrary to the idea of good stewardship. The reason that this law and other designed to protect the environment exist is that they are attempts to deal with the destructive potential of man's behaviour. I am assuming that at one point turkeys were in danger of disappearing altogether and the law was a response to this. Furthermore, my guess is that the law makers didn't intend to stop responsible stewardship, such as Fr Bouchers. However, if this is so it does not seem to come into the thinking of those who now enforce such laws such as the government's environmental managements agencies who seem bound by the letter rather than the spirit of it.

The point here is that until the law reflects a true understanding of man's natural place in the environment then it is just about inevitable that the result in an unforeseen consequence that will result in the demise of both man and the environment. If a law works for the environment, but against man, then because man is an essential component of the ecosystem - yes even modern man - the demise of man will lead to the demise of the environment in the end anyway because each needs the other in order to flourish.

I went up to the farm with my colleague at Thomas More College, Dr Tom and his wife Sherri Larson and their four children. And here is the view from the top of the hill with their eldest, Ben Larson, admiring the view.

The Fra Angelico Institute for Sacred Arts - based in the diocese of Providence, Rhode Island

Going local is the way to change society The culture is a an expression of the core priorities, beliefs and values of a society. This expression is not so much articulated by a governing body that dictates it (the European Union is attempting to be an exception); it is more the aggregated effect of all the personal relationships and networks of personal engagements that comprise it. This means, I believe, that locally based networks of people should be a significant part of our thinking when we consider how to transform the culture. Not long ago I highlighted the Institute of Catholic Culture, which operates within a cluster of about 10 parishes in Virginia, as one model for such an organisation. Here is another locally based organisation. This one operates throughout a diocese under the approval of its bishop - the Fra Angelico Institute for Sacred Arts. In 2010 the institute received approval from the Bishop of the Diocese of Providence, Rhode Island. It operates through the parish of its founders, Deacon Paul and Jacqui Iacono. It offers lectures on all aspects of the culture and workshops in icon painting. It attracts from 40 - 100 people to its talks on a regular basis. It has a blog which is attracting interest. Although the organisational model is not identical (this has a much tighter focus on sacred art), it has certain things in common with the Institute in Virginia that seem to me to contribute to its success. At its core it has knowledgeable and energetic people (both coincidentally have deacons of the Church at the helm). There is a grassroots enthusiasm generated by the instigators who transmit their knowledge and engage people personally, and who in turn can contribute to it. Both place a strong emphasis on the connection between liturgy and culture and create a local learning community through this.

The Uniqueness of the Planet Earth?

Does the possible discovery of other earthlike planets undermine the premise of the film The Privileged Planet? Some time ago I wrote about a book and film called the Privileged Planet. In it I described how modern astrophysics suggests that so many physical conditions are necessary for life as we know it to flourish, that the chances of it occurring are negligible. Furthermore, these conditions are also those that allow for the universe to be observed. Given that all of these conditions have occurred simultaneously, what can we conclude about this? I suggested, going further than the authors, that this was consistent with the idea a Creator who made both us and universe, and that we were made by him to observe it so as to direct our praise and even order our liturgy. I should make clear that this does not, in my mind constitute a scientific proof for the existence of God, nor does faith in God rest in the validity of these arguments. It is entirely possible that new evidence may force us to sit down again and recalculate the probabilities. This would not undermine my belief in the place of man in the universe because this belief is based in other things first. It is however an interesting, very interesting, piece of circumstantial evidence given that, as I put it 'the mathematics says that the chance of a place existing that can support us is negligible – so low that it is almost certain that there is no other life in the universe at all'...and yet here we are. As such believing Christians can take it or leave it.

You can access the article either by going to the articles page on this site, or through the link above.

When I posted it some readers contacted me to point out that there have been announcements of the discovery of planets that could support intelligent life and that we may not be alone. Does this undermine any of the arguments.? I don't think so because it does not change the statistical argument in any way. The authors of the book upon which the film was based simply presented the statistical arguments for such an event occurring. The chances, while negligible, were not zero. This means that for it to happen once is amazing. For it to happen twice is even more amazing since the chances are even less, but still possible. Furthermore, before we accept that such planets other than our own exist, we should try to find out how certain the information is. If it is merely hypothesis, then it is not yet scientifically proven. It is not unknown for newspaper articles to present unproven scientific hypotheses in tones that portray the information as certain.

As Jay Richards one of the authors put it to me: 'We have discovered many hundreds of extra-solar planets, but none that come anywhere near fulfilling the basic conditions for habitability. Often when an extra-solar planet is discovered though, NASA puts out a press release claiming we've discovered an earthlike planet. The most earthlike planet we know of is...Mars.

'That said, nothing in our argument requires that Earth be unique. Our argument simply entails that however many habitable planets there are, they will be extremely earthlike, and they will be better platforms for scientific discovery than the alternatives.'

What about the idea that it points to the existence of a Creator? This is to my mind not undermined either, but represents even more circumstantial evidence; provided that the probabilitility of such an event has not been challenged.

The fact that there turn out to be more such privileged planets does, one might argue, lessen our privilege in a relative sense (there is another part of the universe that is equally privileged so we are not so privileged relative to the rest of the universe although the reduction is tiny). However, it does not lessen the privilege in an absolute sense (the a priori chances of any one planet in the universe possessing such a privilege, remain unchanged.) To my mind, the material evidence of God's love and generosity would have increased.

What if at some stage we find such a planet and then can get close enough to find life there? This is an interesting point that is purely hypothetical at this stage. It seems to me that any of the following are possible: it might be that we would discover that such life had a common salvation history and an immortal soul like man; or could have an immortal soul but unlike man on earth, never experienced a Fall, so have a distinct salvation history; or could be intelligent but possess no immortal soul and so would be a sort of hyper intelligent monkey. All of these life forms would be privileged too.

A Simple Recipe for Artistic Success

In my opinion there are two simple goals for an artist who wants to make a living: first is that he creates good works of art; and second he knows how to sell it. This might seem like a statement of the obvious, but I didn't always see it that way, and when I talk to unsuccessful artists I hear many who still don't. I regularly used to complain that the culture doesn't support art, or most people have plebeian tastes and don't appreciate good art (people today get all their information from the internet and blogs for heaven's sake); or that the Church doesn't train its priests to be good patrons. All of this may be true some degree and even relevant to some degree; but complaining about it never got me anywhere. Rather than expecting society to change until it demands what I am already producing, I was forced to conclude that my success depends more on creating forms that appeal to people. Furthermore, I had to work out how to do it without comprimising on the principles of tradition. The main barrier to my accepting this is my pride: if my work is not selling at high enough prices then I must accept - in this age of the internet when marketing has never been easier - that the most likely reason is that what I produce just isn't good enough. This presented me with a choice: keep complaining or strive to improve. I have chosen to follow the second option (and have much progress to make).

In fact an artist can do both: improve his work and transform the society to which he aims to sell it, thereby creating a demand. The means by which he will do so is the same in each case, through the creation of works of beauty. It is beauty that will change the world. So I need first to create it, and then strive to get people to see it. If people value what I produce sufficiently, then they will pay me for it. The truly beautiful will transform those who see it, and people will want it. If this is not happening, I must work harder to create something that they will value more - I must become a better artist, or a better salesman, or both. This is the principle of noble accessibility coming into consideration again. We have to create forms that are so powerfully beautiful that they connect with people today. The nature of beauty is that tends to creates the desire for it once seen. As John Paul II put it in his Letter to Artists in the context of art, beauty is the 'good made visible'.

In that same letter, John Paul II was so confident in the supernatural power of beauty to do this that he called for a new epiphany of beauty. He did not appeal to society as a whole, or even the Catholic community to change itself and become more tasteful; nor did he even appeal to educators to change society so that it would appreciate good art (not that either is undesirable); but rather he addressed his call to artists. The clue, its seems to me is in the title of the document. It is the artist who will effect this epiphany through the creation of beautiful works of art.

Pope Benedict after him chose to address artists for the same reason, as did Paul VI before him. Each is echoing what the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council articulated. In his letter, he talks about art both inside and outside the church and points out that the beating heart of the tradition is sacred art. He writes: 'At the end of the Council, the Fathers addressed a greeting and an appeal to artists "This world - they said - in which we live needs beauty in order not to sink into despair. In this profound respect for beauty, the Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy Sacrosanctum Consilium recalled the historic friendliness of the Church towards art and, referring more specifically to sacred art, the ''summit'' of religious art, did not hesitate to consider artists as having a ''noble ministry'' when their works reflect in some way the infinite beauty of God and raise people's minds to him. Thanks to the help of artists ''the knowledge of God can be better revealed and the preaching of the Gospel can become clearer to the human mind''.

(In this he distinguishes 'sacred' art from 'religious' art. I am assuming here that he considers 'sacred art' to be that worthy of veneration and appropriate for the liturgy - in accordance with the criteria laid down by Theodore the Studite- and to be distinguished from the more general criterion of protraying religious subjects.

This, by the way directs our focus in education today. The greatest need in all the arts is for people who create beautiful work. Therefore education should be directed as much to the stimulation of creativity, as to cultivating an appreciation of what is good. Patrons have a huge part to play in the creative process and education of future patrons, lay and religious, is certainly part of this. John Paul II called also for a dialogue between artists and the Church, in accord with the 7th Ecumenical Council, which stated that artists are merely executors of ideas and the ideas originate with the Fathers. Ideally, this dialogue would be a real one between the artist and living breathing Fathers. However, when an artist chooses to conform to principles of tradition, he is in connection with the Fathers of the past who directed those artists who formed the tradition. The reason that the Popes addressed the artists, I believe, is that it is the artists' responsibility to initiate this dialogue today by demonstrating that he can produce works that possess this transforming beauty. This will then draw the other parties into the dialogue.

The successful Christian artists that I know who are working in traditional forms have certain things in common. Each produces work of high quality and they assume that this is the basis upon which people want to buy it. Each knows how to sell his work and each manages to support their families comfortably through their artistry.

I have never heard either complain that the culture or the Church doesn't appreciate what they do. The majority of these artists have not been through any formal long term training and are mostly self taught. Regardless of how they were trained originally, the successful artists are constantly looking at new methods and materials that will help them to improve, largely teaching themselves now. And all are great students of their traditions: if there appears to be a need for innovation and there is any doubt as to its validity, they always seek advice from those who are aware of the great body of Church teaching, the theologians, philosophers and liturgists.

None has a precious attitude to the craftsmanship. Making money from what they do is as important as being able to do it. This is good, I feel, for if they cannot pay the bills by doing it, then they cannot keep on doing it; but also because the market is the most efficient mechanism for the distribution of goods that we have today. Postscript Incidentally, this is something that all manufacturers might take note of. This says that if what they make is beautiful then people will be attracted to it and will pay a premium for it. The success of Apple computers is based upon this premise. Mass production doesn't need to detract from this. In fact, if an object is beautiful, then mass production means more beauty than if only a limited number are produced. I have not seen any evidence to suggest that ugliness is intrinsic to the manufacturing process. The cost of making something beautiful is not necessarily greater than the cost of making something ugly and even if it is, it is as likely to be an investment that pays off, as in the case of Apple where people will pay more for a more appealing design. The reason, I believe, that we associate mass production with ugliness is that since the rejection of tradition values in art and design, most designers simply don't know how to make something that participates in the timeless qualities of beauty. The quality of the article that is mass produced is dependent upon the quality of the original design. If the design is bad, then we have ugliness in great quantity; and if good, then it produces beauty in great quantity. And that is a desirable thing...isn't it?

A Garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!

An English cottage garden with a Spanish twist. Here are some photographs of my parents' back garden in England. After I visited them in Spain on my recent trip to Europe, I went on to England and stayed at the family home in Cheshire. They had asked me to tidy up the garden. What a relief it was for me that there was virtually nothing to do. Even though only a few years old, the perennials grow and dominate the space, shutting out weeds. The only weeding that was needed was on the paved area; and the pots which were to be planted with annuals. The first photo is taken after that extra work was done, the rest were taken of the garden that had not been tended for two months. I have written before about how their garden in Spain uses local plants but in an English design. Here we have the reverse influence. A garden in England with English planting, but the design influenced by Spanish design. They have often remarked on how the Spanish create lovely courtyards with pot plants. Usually these have high walls and create shady areas that a cool places to retreat to in the sun. My parents decided to remove the old central lawn and make it a planted bed so that the main space, where the seats and the pots are, is now paved and surrounded by plants on all sides, creating a courtyard effect. This is the 'Spanish twist' I referred to. To see pictures of their English garden in Spain, and the how this garden in England looked before they removed the lawn, go here.

When they sent me these photos, my mum, who had just read a previous post about the garden poem of Ben Jonson, referred me also to a 19th century English poem about gardens. So here it is - My Garden, by Thomas Edward Brown (1830-97). For those who like me didn't know, 'wot' is an archaic term meaning 'knows' and 'grot' is a poetic form of 'grotto'. This post is the second garden-and-poetry column I've done in a short space of time. I ask readers please don't tell anyone I've been doing this - it will destroy the image I like to portray of myself as a poetry hating curmudgeon. So, on to the poem...

A Garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!

Rose plot,

Fringed pool,

Fern’ed grot –

The veriest school

Of peace; and yet the fool

Contends that God is not –

Not God! In gardens! When the eve is cool?

Nay, but I have a sign;

‘Tis very sure that God walks in mine.

PS As an afterword, and going from the sublime to the 'cor blimey', here is a folk song about English gardens that always makes me sentimental about home when I hear it. It's by Crowded House, who are not from England but New Zealand; and the only version I could get online has subtitles in Spanish, but given the Spanish - English garden theme in this article I suppose it's not altogether inappropriate.

http://youtu.be/u4Xhh4D66ro

A Traditional Artistic Training Method for Landscape Painting - How We Can Apply This Today

When I decided I wanted to be an artist, I knew that I needed to train, but I had no idea where to go. I was so clueless that I started by looking for Catholic Art School under 'C' in the telephone directory. Pretty quickly I realised that no such place existed and as I searched and talked to people it became clear that I was going to have to work out how to train myself. I began by studying the traditional methods used to train artists and set about trying to apply these methods to myself. Where I knew that help existed I would go to people who could help me with specific requirements and ask. Most of these people wanted to see the preservation and development of their tradition, and once they realised that I wanted that too were enthusiastic to work with me. I was lucky in coming across Aidan Hart very early in my painting education (even before I was received into the Church). Aidan was self taught and when I attended a number of his week-long icon painting classes, he not only taught us what he knew but how he taught himself. So he was equipping those of us who wanted to know these things, with the insights that would enable us to continue development after the class. My own research and what I learned from Aidan and others seemed to confirm were common to all traditional training methods were written in an article: The Principles of a Traditional Art Education for Today.

This had benefits in other artistic areas as well. I recently decided that I wanted to develop my landscape painting skills. I am interested particularly in the landscape tradition of the English watercolourists such as Constable, Turner, Cotman. I was ready apply these to myself so was going to start of programme that involved copying works of the these masters and direct observation of nature while trying to understand what the artists were aiming to communicate.

By chance, I had a catalogue of an exhibition in London of the work of the Thomas Girtin, a contemporary of William Turner) at Tate Britain and in it there was a detailed description of how he was trained. Interestingly it was exactly academic theory and practice (as taught in the training of figurative art in the ateliers and academies of Europe) but applied to landscape. Reading this reinforced what I thought and also gave me insights that I could use of training for any other form, sacred art. Here is a summary.

Thomas Girtin trained in England in the late 18th century and trained for three years from the ages of 14-19. He was apprenticed to the established artist Edward Dayes and began by doing supporting work (grinding pigments etc) and by watching his master painting. Only later he was allowed to copy his master's work. He was expected at this stage to pick up the idiosyncrasies of his teacher's style as a necessary stage in the longer term goal of his emerging with a similar but independent style. From the start he was given talks about art and especially the moral purpose of art. Consistent with academic theory and following Joshua Reynolds in his Discources given to the Royal Academy, Dayes announced that the artist only selects the best parts of the natural world in order to reflect an idealised Nature. In addition, Girtin was expected to read in order to form his taste.

For his painting training, he would be introduced to colour by being asked to colour prints (so don't hesitate to photocopy and colour-in today!). He then progressed on to his own landscapes by working in the studio and creating amalgamations of different works by Dayes and others and drawings and sketches.

In painting from nature, he would start to observe and sketch doing either line drawings or broad tonal renditions depicting scenes using sweeps in monochrome; through this he could start to control the sense of space by changing the intensity of shadow according the to distance from which it was viewed. He would also do repeated studies of individual items - bushes, trees and so on - both from works of others and direct from nature.

After his apprenticeship, he was given patronage by the amateur artist James Moore and as part of this was given the job of converting Moore's drawings into finished paintings. This would be done in the studio. In his early work Girtin seems to have worked by creating a grey monochrome underpainting and then overlaid colour washes. In his later work he put colour directly onto the paper adding individual tints for shadows.

As far as I can tell, paintings were not finished in situ, but in the studio. This is consistent with one stream of academic art (the classical baroque artists such as Caracci and Poussin) in which all finished paintings were studio works based upon drawings from life. this meant that all finished paintings were two steps from observed nature.

Why an account of teaching landscape painting in this regular column about sacred art?

First, it exemplifies some general principles that can be applies by those wishing to teach or learn (by teaching themselves) and form art, including sacred art.

Second, how demonstrates how part, at least, how an aspect of the wider culture can be a mundane expression of a culture that has the liturgy at its centre. Here is an artistic form that is derived from and pointing to the liturgical forms. It also shows how in regard to this part of it, there is no detachment between the culture of faith and the wider culture as had begun already in other areas and was to occur much more generally soon afterwards as the 19th century progressed.

Third, we should note this is protestant England. The artists themselves may not have even been aware of the fact, or wished to acknowledge it, but they are agents of cultural evangelisation. The principles they are using is a direct transposition of those developed for the the liturgical forms of the 17th century baroque as part of the Catholic counter-reformation 200 years earlier. It is a demonstration of how when those forms that are integrated with the liturgy, and the liturgy is authentic, then it has power. What drove this was the sheer radiance of the beauty of the liturgical forms. Those who saw it and decided that they wanted art just like that. Conscious that it was a Catholic form underpinned by Catholic principles, they simply created stated them in a way that didn't change the sense, but meant that they weren't overtly Catholic. It was the Dutch who did this first in the context of landscape. This is the exact opposite of what happened in the 20th century, where so many Catholic artists looked at the popular secular forms (reflecting an anti-Christian ethos) and tried to express sacred subjects using these forms, leading to the disaster we are recovering from now. Interestingly, just as with their earlier Italian counterparts, the highest form of landscape was the architectural landscape. With relatively few Roman ruins to paint, they would look to the medieval castles and gothic cathedrals and abbeys around the countryside, many of course in ruins. So whether it was conscious or not, these artists were making an ideal out of the earlier great age of architecture, which unlike those in Rome, was an authentic Catholic architecture. Who knows how this might have affected the mood of the day?

This last point is a cause for optimism today. We are undergoing a liturgical reform and we see, albeit in the early stages, a productive dialogue between Catholic artists, musicians and the Church that will in time create authentic forms that are integrated with the liturgy. When we see a flowering of this, I have confidence that the wider culture will be transformed too, just as happened in the baroque of the 17th century.

Paintings from top: Bamburgh Castle, Northumberland; tonal study painted in situ; Guisborough Priory, Yorkshire. Below: colour washes overlaying a grey monochrome underpainting

Below: Durham Cathedral; the White House, Chelsea; Yorkshire scene;

Greens often fade in time, so while this is based, in the baroque mode on a sepia monochrome tonal underpainting, it is possible that the foreground would have been greener than it is now.

Above: a Scottish border scene; and below: Kirkstall Abbey, Yorkshire.

19th Century Japanese Landscapes from Worcester Art Museum

Here is a series of 18th century prints by the Japanese artist called Katsushika Hokusai(1760-1849). I saw them recently as a new display at the permanent collection of the Worcester Art Museum in Worcester, Massachusetts. Chinese and Japanese landscape is worthy of study even by those interested in painting landscape in the Western tradition. The composition is consistent with the Christian view that nature is beautiful and hierarchical and points to something greater beyond itself, with man at the pinnacle of the natural world, whether he is a subject within the painting, or the observer seeing nature through the eyes of the artist. This is a series of prints called A Tour of Waterfalls in the Provinces made in 1833. This is a new display at the Worcester Art Museum and it has been very nicely handled, so that the series appears as a body of work, with each print angled upwards so that it is easily visible and reducing glare of the protective glass.

Worcester Art Museum is one of a number of small museums based upon the private collection of wealthy industrialist, now available to the public. It is small enough that one can easily see all on display in its three floors of galleries in a morning and good enough that one wants to. it also saves the parking and travelling difficulties of trying to get to galleries in the centre of large cities. We will feature more works from this gallery in a number of upcoming posts.

The Music of Roman Hurko and the Principle of Noble Accessibility

Below is some new music written by Roman Hurko, a Byzantine Catholic. It is the Our Father from his Liturgy of St John Chrysostom, which has recently come to my attention.I have written a couple of times on the importance that I place on the reestablishing our traditions of art and music as living traditions in which there is a dynamic creativity that communicates to people today. We are looking for a popular culture that does not compromise on its principles. The phrase that seems to summarise this idea is 'noble accessibility'.My first reaction to the music of Hurko was that although I like it, might not correspond to the principle of noble accessibility. I can't imagine many congregations being able to sing this - it is just too difficult. It was my colleague Paul Jernberg a choral music specialist and himself a composer who introduced me to this music. In some ways this is surprising, for Paul is adamant that this principle of noble accessibility must be present in liturgical music. So I asked him about to tell more about this. The points he made in response are given below, but to summarise, he told me that for him there are two aspects accessibility. First is one that means that the music is simple enough for an average congregation can sing - the St Michael Prayer that I recently featured comes into this category. The second emphasises the meditative aspect of liturgical music - it might be so difficult to sing that only the choir can handle it, but it must something that the ordinary congregation can listen to easily and in the right way. All of this without compromising on its beauty. Here is what he wrote:

• The noble accessibilty that needs to characterize all Catholic sacred music, is important both in congregational and choral music, each of which has an important place in the Liturgy.

• Whereas music composed for the congregation needs to be “singable”, music composed for choirs needs to be accessible to the minds and hearts of the congregation as they hear it! It needs to communicate in a musical language that the faithful can readily receive, and which through its beauty and sacred character lifts hearts to the transcendent.

• Yes, there might be some formation needed here, as those unaccustomed to the tradition of Sacred Music adjust to its contemplative nature. However, one should not be required to undergo extensive musical training in order to appreciate music in the Liturgy! The formation required will be more theological and spiritual, rather than musical.

• The choral music of Roman Hurko, composed for choirs singing the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom (Eastern Catholic Rite), is an eminent example of this noble accessibility in choral music. His melodies, harmonies and rhythms are composed in such a way as to communicate to the common man, a profound beauty that lifts the heart and mind to prayer.

• This aspect of listening as well as singing is important in the liturgy. Some settings or parts emphasize the vocal participation of the congregation; others, such as polyphonic settings in the Western tradition, call forth the more meditative participation of the congregation. Antiphonal singing, an important aspect of both Eastern and Western liturgical traditions, engages us in both ways. Sometimes this involves having the congregation divided into two groups, while at other times the antiphonal principle is manifested through the choir alternating with congregation. In the latter case, it is appropriate for the choir to sing more ornately beautiful and challenging settings, corresponding to their musical abilities, while the congregation sings simpler arrangements.'

As an artist I am always thinking about the parallels between sacred art and music. In the case of art participation is not a requirement - we don't expect everybody to be painting in church, that would be art therapy! But the other aspect of accessibility does apply. It is down to artists to work within the traditional forms in such a way that ordinary church goers will respond easily and willingly so that it raises their hearts and minds to God.

Roman Hurko's website is www.romanhurko.com; and a link through to his iTunes page, for anyone who would like to download his music, is here.

Paul Jernberg is Composer-in-Residence at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts, Merrimack, NH.

http://youtu.be/qdyGJUinKGE