Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Friday, May 23, 2014

Pint-Sized Picassos and Human Identity

by Justin McRoberts

A pair of brilliant young girls in my neighborhood (ages 6 and 8) set up an art gallery in their garage. Hung on packing twine with clothespins and paper clips, most of the art is their own, though they also featured a few contributions from siblings labeled "guest pieces.” These young artists also made invitations, tickets and gallery-member wristbands to distribute throughout our neighborhood. My wife and I immediately took our tickets down the way to pay a visit. We made sure to go during the hours posted on the “Gradn Openig” sign outside. 

Handing in our tickets at the front desk, we received paper bracelets that allowed us gallery access throughout the day. Our bracelets, we were informed, also afforded us a 10% discount on featured pieces, 20% off guest work. We purchased one pencil drawing, one watercolor and then commissioned a second watercolor for my 4yr old son. He had noted a lack of truck-themed artwork and we decided to rectify that oversight.

Though they could have spent their free time consuming countless hours of children’s television, these girls chose instead to beauty to their neighborhood and their world. They chose to devote their time to the work and the wonder of creating.

I think these kinds of expressions, these deep desires that resonate within us, represent the best of who we are - in our better moments, and as our better selves, we use the raw materials around us and within us to make something truer, better and more beautiful.

We are makers, you and I.
We are creatures who create.

Unsatisfied with what is, we dream of better things and then we build them.
This is the best of who we are.


“The world is full of noise,” says author Andy Crouch, “but only humans make music.”

In his essential letter to artists in 1992, Pope John Paul II suggests, “The human craftsman mirrors the image of God as the Creator.”
 
Professor David Dark writes, “Something often excluded from our definition of being human is that we are makers.”

I see this truth about us at play in an endless list of creative expressions...

- the way our hands can take paper and steel and ink and fire to create a piece of art that evokes powerful emotions and thoughts in its viewers.

- the way our hands can rebuild a city twisted and broken by weather or war or tectonic shifts…

- the way our hands can take hold of a life crushed and defeated by chemicals or abuse and slowly, patiently, reshape, and restore a person to health.

By its very practice, the story art tells about us seems to echo the religious narrative of human life: that there is more to life than what we can measure or see. And not only do we get to experience that “More," we also get to participate in it… should we have the courage. The measurable, material world is exactly and only that: material -like unworked clay... a beginning, pregnant with potential in the hands of a powerful, creative being. In other words, both art and religion intrinsically proclaim that it is the act of making (and even unmaking) that defines the human experience of life rather than our matter or our circumstances.

My materialist friends tend to balk at my religious reading of the human experience, believing I add an unnecessary, Christian filter to everything, like the Instagram user who just can’t let well enough alone. I understand their concern, but I struggle to find anything in a materialist worldview that fully accounts for (much less affirms) the vibrant and vital story of a humanity unsatisfied with the world as it is. The instinct for survival just isn’t a large enough story. We clearly want and work for more than simple survival. We are not content with what simply is. In our better moments, we want to make better things from the lesser things we naturally have in hand.

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden, to till it and keep it.” - Gen 2:15

Being in the garden was a beginning.
The soil and the seed was a beginning.
That we were asked to do something with the things we were given is the beginning of human history, the beginning of the world.


For the artist, it isn’t enough to have clay and steel and paint. Holding these things doesn’t make one an artist; making something of them does. I’ve come to believe the same thing about being “human.” It is not enough to hold chemistry and history and circumstance in our hands - our humanity is dependent upon what we make of what we are given.

My blessings and abuses, wealth and lack are a beginning - a start.
What am I making from what I am given?
What am I building?
My materials might be paint or pixels, notes or measures, steel or clay…
Or they might be the fragments of a shattered past.


Regardless, I believe it is what I make, rather than what I have, that defines who I am, that tells my story true. 

Justin McRoberts is a singer, songwriter, blogger, pastor and teacher living in San Francisco He is also the mind behind the CMYK Project. You can follow him on Twitter @justinmcroberts and find more information about his other endeavors here.


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Monday, March 10, 2014

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 52 - The Swan Children w/ Hannah Ettinger and Connor Park

by Ben Howard

This week on the show Ben talks to Hannah Ettinger and Connor Park about the new magazine and online art gallery The Swan Children. The Swan Children was released last week and features the creative works of artists who grew up in the homeschool, Quiverfull, and conservative Christian communities. First, we talked to Hannah about the the idea behind the magazine and the projects genesis. We also discussed her hopes for The Swan Children and the ideas the magazine is trying to foster. Then we talked to Connor about his role as Editor-In-Chief and some background information on the homeschool movement.

You can find The Swan Children online at swanchildrenmag.com and on Twitter @swanchildren.

You can download the podcast by clicking here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you like the show, please rate and review us on iTunes. It's the first step in our secret mission to take over the world.

Finally, if you'd like to stream the podcast, you can do that here: 


Peace,
Ben 


You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. If you'd like to support what we do, you can donate via the button on the right of the screen.

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Thursday, February 6, 2014

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 49 - Before the War w/ Taylor Walling of The Wallings Jr.


by Ben Howard

This week I sat down with Taylor Walling to talk about music, songwriting, and artistic inspiration. Taylor and his wife Courtney make up The Wallings Jr. who recently released their debut album Before the War. We'll explore their method of songwriting, what they hope to convey through their songs, and talk about the stories behind several of the songs on the album, which was loosely inspired by letters written by Civil War soldiers.

Before the War is available on iTunes. You can find more information about the Wallings Jr. at their website, thewallingsjr.com.

You can download the podcast by clicking here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you like the show, please rate and review us on iTunes. It's the first step in our secret mission to take over the world.

Finally, if you'd like to stream the podcast, you can do that here: 


Peace,
Ben 


You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. If you'd like to support what we do, you can donate via the button on the right of the screen.

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Thursday, January 9, 2014

Bonfire of the Vagueries

by Ben Howard

My grandpa and I had a deal when I was in college. He would give me books to read and have me write a book report. In return, he would give me $100. Needless to say, this was a pretty sweet deal, not to mention an innovative way for a grandparent to help out financially during what can otherwise be some lean years. But there was a slight catch: All of the books were by motivational speakers. They were books with titles like The Principles of Success and Wake Up and Dream. They were full of assurances that everyone was capable of being happy, healthy, and wealthy; full of anecdotes about people “just like you” who changed their lives.

It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that I, a man whose favorite word is “ambivalence,” would find these books to be just a bit grating. However, it wasn’t the cliches that would frustrate me, though they were ever-present. The most frustrating part of these motivational books, of these tales of success and wealth and happiness, was just how generic they were. There would be long stories about “a man” who ran “a large multinational corporation,” or the author would offer tips from “a successful businesswoman;” so many stories, so many quips, and it was always impossible to tell whether they were true or apocryphal. In a world of abstract nouns everything is cloudy and vague.

And this cloud of vague, generic language is a real problem. It allows us to live in a world of blanket statements, a world absent of nuance or idiosyncrasy. Generic things don’t actually exist and abstract nouns aren’t real.

Image via Arun Kulshreshtha
This generic language crutch has also driven me away from reading most Christian writing. While much of this writing is beautiful, florid prose, I find myself frustrated by the abstract nature of the conversation. There is something empty in exhorting the universalized “you” to an unspecified peace, love, and justice; something absent from references to the broadness of humanity and the world and the church. I do not doubt the intentions of these authors or the authenticity of their beliefs, but I cannot help but think that this vague, ethereal, sterile language drives us away from encountering a world that is specific, tactile, and oftentimes messy.

Christianity needs embodied theology; we need proper nouns and color. We need history and culture and art. We need the divine revelations of Julian of Norwich, the embattled poetry of T.S. Eliot, and the dark Eucharistic feast of Caravaggio.

An embodied theology means that instead of the ethereal ideal of justice, we hear about the day to day struggle of people like Brian Merritt as they work with the disenfranchised of Chattanooga. An embodied theology means that instead of a vague, romanticized version of love, we are confronted by the tireless passion of someone like Lauren Plummer on behalf the homeless in Nashville. We mirror their rage on behalf of the voiceless who are taken advantage of by the inequitable and corrupt and we share the joy of their righteous victories. An embodied theology needs these people, this raw physicality, the beauty of the abstraction found in the grit and grind of daily life.

Image via Wikipedia
It can be so easy to hide behind the tropes and the big words with big intentions. It can be so inspirational to talk about saving the world, or bringing peace to the nations. It can be so reassuring to mouth the pretty words about love and grace and truth. But generic things don’t actually exist and abstract nouns aren’t real.

But there are so many true stories, and so many real people; so many pieces of concrete reality that allow us to cobble together a mosaic of faith. It’s a piece of art covered in dirt and tears and blood. It’s coated with the dust of history and glossed with the anticipation of the future. It’s full of rough edges and pieces that don’t fit, but it’s real and that makes it beautiful.

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87.   

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. If you'd like to support what we do, you can donate via the button on the right of the screen.
  
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Sunday, March 24, 2013

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 15 - Drawn In: A Creative Process for Artists Activists and Jesus Followers

Troy Bronsink, Drawn In, Paraclete Press, creativity
by Ben Howard

In this week's episode Ben interviews author and artist Troy Bronsink about his new book "Drawn In: A Creative Process for Artists, Activists and Jesus Followers" from Paraclete Press. They talk about the importance of art in the church, the way we can view church itself as an art form, and the importance of engaging in creative activities even for people who don't consider them artists. Join in, be inspired and enjoy!

You can download the podcast by clicking here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you download the show through iTunes, please be so kind as to rate and review us. We want your feedback and it helps the show to grow.

If you'd like to find more information about Troy's book, check out his website or the book's Facebook page. You can purchase it on Amazon here.

Also, remember to "Like" On Pop Theology on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology for all the updates, posts, and links throughout the week.

Finally, if you'd like to stream the podcast, you can do that here:


Peace,
Ben

If you have any questions, comments, or if you just want to say hi, you can contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.


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Monday, March 11, 2013

Megachurches and Victor the Wrestling Bear: Lessons from the ABA


basketball, ABA, red white blue ball
Oooo...pretty.
by Ben Howard

They used a red, white and blue ball. It was weird, and it was popular. This decision did not come about because of market testing, or intense analysis, or even any type of vigorous conversation. No, the guy in charge of the league had bad eyesight and couldn’t see the typical brown ball as it bounced around the poorly lit fieldhouses and gymnasiums that served as the home of basketball in the 1960s.

Also, America.

Those are the reasons that the American Basketball Association, better known as the ABA, used a red, white, and blue basketball. It’s the same ball that you’ll see if you ever watch the three point contest at the NBA All-Star Game. It’s called the money ball.

Unless you’re a diehard fan of basketball history, or have been an avid basketball fan since somewhere around 1970, you probably don’t know much about the ABA. So let’s start there.

The ABA was founded in 1967 as a competitor to the NBA. Even to say that it was “founded” is assigning the act much more planning and forethought than was actually the case. Better to say that the ABA “began to exist” in 1967. Their players were essentially NBA rejects, their games poorly attended, and their finances were…interesting.

Despite these limitations the ABA eventually found enough success to force a lucrative merger with the much larger and far more stable NBA. So why did the ABA exist for 10 years (arguably 9 ½ years longer than it should have)?

The red, white, and blue ball. Or, to be more specific, what the red, white, and blue ball symbolized: a willingness to be innovative.

In addition to the colorful basketball, the ABA also introduced the three point line, the slam dunk contest, and turned halftime entertainment into an art form (here's the story of Victor the Wrestling Bear).
Julius Erving, Dr. J., New York Nets, ABA, afro
We need more afros.

The ABA made itself the league of flash and flair. It made superstars out of creative, high-flying athletes like Julius Erving and David Thompson.

There are a lot of similarities between the ABA and the megachurch model of evangelical Christianity. Both have found popular success through a willingness to innovate, a willingness to modernize, and a willingness to try absolutely anything in a perennial quest for attention (one ABA team famously hosted halter top night in 1975).

If you've read my blog, it’s no surprise that I think the megachurch model of Christianity is ultimately flawed, much like the ABA. The movement has no historical roots, and combined with the quest for popularity, which very quickly turns into a shallow desire for aesthetic satisfaction, the model simply seems unhealthy and unsustainable.

However, the flaws don’t diminish the lessons that other traditions can learn from the megachurch model. This model of evangelical Christianity has re-imagined the aesthetic sensibility of the church with its use of artistry and media.

Traditionally, the church has been known as a great patron of the arts, however, in recent times that idea of the church as a locus of aesthetic sensibilities has been on the decline. Even when the church does value art now, it values high art, not the kind that is able to be enjoyed and discerned by the masses.


Megachurches have done fantastic work utilizing media, graphic design and modern music to re-engage the aesthetic sensibilities of the masses. Granted, the content of this art is sometimes vapid and shallow, but that does not diminish the form.

Additionally, megachurches have done an excellent job of energizing their congregations. Unfortunately, much of the time that energy is directed into growing the churches popularity and/or coffers, but the act of energizing a community to some mutual purpose is a noble act.

megachurch, music, dragon, fire sword
Awesome. Just awesome.
These are the things mainline churches can learn from the megachurch model in the same way that the NBA had lessons to learn from the ABA.

The ABA never had the ability to conquer the NBA. The NBA had history, financial stability, and a fan-base, but it did force the NBA to try something new. The NBA adopted the three point line, the slam dunk contest, and started doing more to entertain their fans. The NBA didn’t replace substance, but it added style because sometimes it’s necessary to have a bit of flash.

The ABA didn't make the NBA, but it made the NBA try. Sometimes all you need is someone to push you, to annoy you, to force you to think about things you forgot long ago.

Peace,
Ben

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

Contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Prayers to a Dark God


Rilke

by Sebastian Faust

-A conversation with Rainer Maria Rilke-

I’ve been reading Rilke. Actually, I’ve been doing something more than reading; I’ve been praying with Rilke, meditating beside him, searching with him. 

I’d bumped into him before in undergrad: some correspondence of his, Letters to a Young Poet, was tucked inside the pages of one of my textbooks. But reading his mail was really all I knew of him. Now though, we’ve been talking for a few weeks. It’s nice.

 I met him after Prague. I went to Prague, years back, and somehow it changed me. I’m not exactly sure how; it has something to do with the light there – it’s a different sort of light than I’ve ever felt anywhere else; a shadowed light. Prague slipped into my soul and took up residence, carved out a little space in me, and has become my favorite city. (This is no small feat, because people who know me know that I don’t choose favorites, that my answers are always “yes and no” or “both/and” or “it depends; it’s all contextual”, but Prague, of all the cities through which I’ve walked, is easily my favorite.) 

So, sometimes, I’m just in the mood for something Prague-ish, and I’ll fall into a book, or sink into a painting, or take up some tangible trinket and run my fingers over it again and again like a holy relic. It was in the midst of one of these moods that now take me, when searching for Prague writers, that I met Rilke again; we started talking over tea. We kept talking long after the tea was gone, walking out into a chilly afternoon, beneath the dark trees that sleep by the springs behind my house.
Prague

It was Candlemas; we talked about the shifting seasons, the change in light, the lives of trees existing as one single breath, about Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. We talked of darkness and daylight, of love, and sadness, and loss. We talked of Prague, of poetry, of God. We kept returning to God. 

“God is so perfect,” one of us said to the other, “in Aquinas and in Augustine. God has such clarity in Michelangelo, in Titian. It doesn’t seem like God at all.”

I’ve been thinking about that. So has Rilke. Somewhere around Ash Wednesday, our prayers, our meditations, comingled. Rilke began. I followed. We prayed to a different God than so many of the people round about us. We prayed to a dark God.

Oh, I’ll admit, at times, my God is bright – is the sun-god, wrapped in shining raiment, riding a fiery chariot across the azure sky; is, at times, the harnesser of fiery steeds, the luminous bringer of light. But this, only in flashes. My God goes walking in a garden by starlight, in the cool of the evenings; in the dimness of night, my God moves from shadow to shadow. My God is dark.

But when I said this, the artists departed from me, saying, “We cannot paint a dark God.”

A hundred roots that drink in silence
Yet still it is – my God is not impassive, unyielding, unmoved.  My God is in pain – mourns every sorrow, weeps over sadness, tends to every cry.  My God has been broken, knows remorse, regret, despair.  My God is dark.

But when I said this, the philosophers departed from me, saying, “We cannot postulate a dark God.”

Yet still it is – my God is not fulfilled, not finished, not complete.  My God longs to create beauty, feels the need to redeem creation, yearns for the day when all shall be put right.  My God is even now still growing, spreading deep beneath the surface of things – pushing down beneath the darkness, the roots of all creation encompassing the black, still soil.  My God is dark.

But when I said this, the theologians departed from me, saying, “We cannot systematize a dark God.”

Yet Rilke, Rilke stayed with me. I said, “Will you depart from me also?” He said:

I have many brothers robed in cassocks
in southern cloisters sheltered by bay trees.
I know the Madonnas they make – so human;
            And often I dream
of early Titians
where God
is bright as an ardent flame.

But when I peer down,
into the chasm of myself:
My God is dark,
like a knot of
a hundred roots that drink in silence.

I know that I rise out of this activity,
but more
I do not know, because my branches
are stilled by silence, stirred but faintly
by the wind.

~Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Prayers (The Book of Hours)

Sebastian Faust is an avowed heretic, armchair theologian, and a self-styled canary in the coal mine of pop culture. He lives in Nashville with his dog Watson, a service animal trained in sniffing out hipsters. You can't follow Sebastian on Twitter because he doesn't understand technology.

You can, however, follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Life Imitates Art Imitates Life: Why Broken is Compelling and Normal is Boring

The stereotypical disheveled man.
by Jonathan Harrison

Somewhere in an American suburb, a man shuffles up to a whitewashed house and awkwardly pushes the doorbell. After a few minutes, another man opens the door (he looks like he just got off work), he looks at the fellow and says:

"What do you want?"

They're not friends. The disheveled man blinks a moment at the owner of the house and says "Is [blank] home?" Eventually, the woman in question comes to the door and looks at the disheveled man. They talk. She tells him, in no uncertain terms, to never come back to that house. She says that they are over, that they were over a long time ago. 

The disheveled man turns around; he shuffles off. The plot of the movie we're watching goes with him, while the owners of the house continue on with their lives, unperturbed by our voyeurism.

It's a movie cliche that you've seen a hundred times: a ne'er-do-well returns to the woman he treated poorly only to find that she's with someone new who treats her much, much better. I've always hated this cliche. In every instance where this takes place, the sympathetic figure is always the perpetrator and not the victim. We kind of hate the owners of the house because they have it all figured out, while the broken protagonist is the person we identify with. Why is this?
Your normal-ness makes me sick!

The owners of the house will probably go back inside and have a mutually edifying conversation filled with lots of amazing insights about the nature of the woman's ex and how much better she is now than back then. It almost makes me sick just thinking about it. That same night, the homeowner will probably spend his time doing something useful like completing a project for work while she reads some piece of contemporary literature. It makes me nauseous. Day in. Day out. The same perfect-couple life. It sounds like something NBC would air now that 30 Rock is over and they've stopped being weird.

We love watching conflict. It's a general rule of screenwriting that every scene must have some sort of conflict or you risk boring the viewers. It's part of the reason that domestic bliss is hardly ever portrayed in any sort of drama. There might be some conflict as part of the day to day grind, but ultimately happy people are boring to watch.

Why do we love watching conflict, yet do our best to avoid it in our daily lives? Why are we so fascinated by people whose lives stand on the brink of catastrophe? 

I've often contemplated this, because, if anything, we're called to a life of healthy relationships, of service, of forgiveness. These are things that exist sparingly in our entertainment. If a couple spent the entire show forgiving each other, there wouldn't be much to watch. Yet which life would we rather live if we had the choice?

I also wonder about the precise amount of influence these media representations have on our lives. No one is going to say that we learn everything we need to know about marriage from Mad Men, but I also think some people are more prone to that influence than others. 

Jonathan, was this the conversation?
When I broke up with a girl in college, the entire conversation (verbatim) came from an episode of Dawson's Creek. I discovered this the next morning, because the show was on at work and I was shocked to overhear Pacey and Joey reenacting the same conversation I'd had the night before. Needless to say, my ex was an ardent fan of Dawson's Creek, and I (I soon discovered), was as woefully unprepared for relationship drama as former Mighty Ducks star Joshua Jackson.

Sometimes I wonder if we learn more about how to live life from entertainment than we do from each other, from our family, or our other relationships. Art is an imitation of life, but at the same time, life has to imitate art, otherwise we would claim that we are devoid of influence, which isn't true. Although we are incapable of measuring the influence art has on our lives, it must have some. 


Yet, art tends to portray extremely broken lives, lives that many of us live, but few openly claim to emulate. It's the fascination with this brokenness that has always, in turn, fascinated me. We don't love our brokenness, but we love to witness it in the lives of others (particularly if those others are fictional; or maybe not: sometimes we can't help but watch the brokenness on display in reality television in marathon fashion). Brokenness is the stuff of our entertainment; my question for you is, why?

Jonathan is a former aspiring librarian who has recently decided to take up farming because Paul Harvey's ghostly voice made it sound so wonderfully noble. He also feels compelled to buy a Dodge pickup. I'm sure the two are unrelated. You can follow him on Twitter @jonateharrison.


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Contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

On Art and Violence

on pop theology, philosophy, theology, culture, pop culture, christianity
by Ben Howard

I don't really like violent movies. To be more specific, I don't really like blood. And when I say “don't really like” I mean it makes me nauseous and like I'm about to pass out. I have fainted one time in my life, it was during a talk about donating blood at school. Fell out of the desk and hit my head on the floor. Lots of pain. That's how much I don't like blood.

Keep that in mind when I tell you that I really enjoyed the movie Lawless that came out this past weekend. If you haven't heard of this movie, well then I think the vast majority of the country is right there with you. The movie is based around a group of brothers who sell moonshine during the Prohibition Era and the main plot of the movie centers of their encounters with a new deputy tasked with shutting down all the moonshine operations in the “Wettest County in the World.”

It's an incredibly beautiful, but also an incredibly violent movie. The Appalachian setting of the movie evokes a pastoral sense of calm and peace and the period setting evokes the same feelings you get when you stair at a yellowed photo of your great grandfather as a young boy. It's real life, or at least it used to be.

The beauty and nostalgia of the film form a stark backdrop for the repeated graphic representations of violence. In one particular scene, Forrest Bondurant, played by Tom Hardy, walks out into a beautiful fresh snow only to be assaulted by two men who restrain him and slit his throat. The viewer is left with a long, drawn out shot of Forrest silently grasping at his bleeding neck while the beautiful white snow slowly covers the ground around him.

I wish I could say that this movie ultimately condemns the violent acts of its characters, but it doesn't. It's a film that ultimately glorifies revenge and ends with a little down-home spinning of the happily ever after narrative.

You can contrast this view of violence with a show like The Wire, where violence is shown to have destructive effects both on the offender and the victim alike. Main characters receive their comeuppance and beloved characters transform into monsters when they begin to wield the gun. All of these acts are performed against the grit and grime of urban decay to make the ultimate statement that while violence is a way of life, it is not a way out.

I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this issue as well. Can violence be portrayed artistically or beautifully? And if it is possible to do this, does that artistic portrayal undermine the brutality of the acts being perpetrated? Which story is right? Violence as revenge to attain peace, or violence as the inescapable destructive force?

Peace,
Ben


When he isn't reflecting on the artistry of violence, Ben is wearing hipster sweaters and staring intently at things. Just like Tom Hardy. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87 or contact him at benjamin.howard87 [at] gmail.com.
  

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Our Mission, Should We Choose to Accept It

by Ben Howard

It can be argued fairly easily that we are a product of our society.  Whether this “society” in question is the whole of Western Civilization, America in particular, or even our cities, our states, our neighborhoods, our churches, or just our families we are all fundamentally communal and cultural creatures and these piecemeal social forces from the macro to the micro nuance and flavor our view of the world.  As a natural response to the effect these forces have upon us a discerning eye has been turned towards the weightier matters of our culture.  We discuss war and peace, security and freedom, issues of morality and power and fear, but we discuss them either in the abstract (which makes them seem esoteric) or through anecdotal evidence (which makes them too personal). 

However, we rarely discuss entertainment, or at least what our entertainment says about who we are.  Sure, sometimes we talk about high artistic achievement, but I’m sorry to say that Picasso does not say as much about society as Jersey Shore does, or at least why we like to watch Jersey Shore.  I think that through the lens of our entertainment we have the perfect vehicle to explore how we think, what we think about and how we are truly motivated.  With this knowledge I think we can begin to dig into ourselves and find a way of living and responding to our societies that is more authentic and intentional than we had before.

So that’s the intent here, to explore and analyze our entertainment from movies to TV to sports to books to whatever cultural wave happens to crash across our bow.  The point is not to say what’s good or worthy, though I’m sure I will do both on occasion, but to see what these oft untapped sources have to say to us about who we are, who we think we are, and who we aspire to be.

Peace,
Ben