Brief thoughts on Religion, Spirituality and Art.

[Kaspalita]

In a way, I hope this goes someway towards answering Dharmavidya's questions raised in the other thread, I have given it it's own thread - partly because I am an egotist, and partly because the other thread seemed to have diverted a little from the topic this addresses.

There are as many understandings of the world ‘Spiritual’ as there are people who consider themselves to be spiritual. In the Amidist spiritual model, the ultimate source of spiritual power, Amida, is placed outside the self. Using this model we can think of spirituality as being the practice of connecting to this power - This should be broad enough to map in some way on to other spiritual traditions.

Religion is the formal practice, and theory, of that spirituality, the relationship is not as clean as this, but these definitions will serve us well enough for now.

Asking for a definition of art entangles us in a debate as old as old as the creation of art, which is perhaps best left for another time.

The Amidist model of the universe is a dualistic one, on the one hand there is the karmic universe, the material world which we inhabit, in our limited forms, in which there is birth decay and death, and on the other the sacred realm, in which Amida Buddha dwells.

Using this model different types of art or creative impulses can be broadly categorised. And the question ‘How does the creative impulse support practice?’ can be explored.

In the first category is the impulse to explore this material world, all the drama that takes place upon this stage, in all it’s dark corners and shadows. In the second is the impulse to connect with the sacred in some way, through making offerings or prayers, for example.

From a practice point of view, exploring the drama of this material world can go one of two ways - it’s easy to imagine an artist who is continually refining and supporting their self-image, a narcissist whose connection with the real world is limited. The Buddhist ideal would be moving towards a real engagement with the world, a position of vidya - honest looking, that takes us towards appreciating our dependent nature, and the transient, and particularly Amidist, bonbu, or even akunin nature of self.

The application of Buddhist Psychology to creative theory may yield results in this area, and in practice, we can see this sometimes happens in our Pandramatics sessions - in art or therapy the question ‘What’s really true?’ Can be of immense importance here.

This can be expanded beyond the personal, to the social. Whole reams of art, and media reinforce ideologies of oppression, or individualism - reinforcing social patterns, and hierarchies. An art that moves towards vidya, will be one that recognises this, and be revolutionary in it’s implications.

Reaching beyond the material

The answer to ‘What is really true?’ will be different for the Amidist, than for the aethiest. As Amidsts we recognise a power greater than ourselves, that lies beyond our comprehension, it is at this point spiritual and religious art deviates from a purely social or psychological model.

Recognition of a sacred realm has implications for social and personal revolution, and for artistic expression, or discovery of those things.

Perhaps we can think of how these impulses might play out in real situations? Or perhaps this is best left to the performance, or creative act itself.

[Steve Durham]

Dear Kaspalita,

Thank you for your thoughts here ... as a Christian (Presbyterian) cum Amidist, I have been intrigued all throughout my 30+ years of ministry with the connection between art and spirituality, art and faith, art and all of the hard-to-define realities to which those words try to point.

And that's why I appreciated your thoughts here very much. Speaking (for now) just from a Judeo-Christian perspective, art of any kind is virtually the only adequate "vehicle" for communicating encounters with the Sacred. Most -- and some would say all -- of the biblical text is one form or another of artistic presentation: poetry, song (lyrics, e.g. the Psalms), fable, parable, legend, historical narrative (but always with a theological "spin" which invariably requires and uses the language of the fantastical) ... etc. It's as though only the naturally fluid "distortions" provided by an artistic medium can suggest the boundryless boundaries of the Sacred. Left-brained, discursive language just cannot "bend" nearly far enough even to suggest what, or Who, is "out there" and at least tapping on the "walls" of our conventional reality to get our attention.

Well ... enough blabber from me. I'm just really excited and happy to see the Amida School working to incorporate the arts this way. As the summer unfolds, and as I may temporarily have a little more time on my hands, I'm hoping to post at least some short stories that explore Pure Land themes.

namu amida bu
steve

[Dharmavidya]

I would like to raise a question about the importance of meaning. There is a tendency in much Buddhist discourse to suggest that what is necessary is to see reality clearly and directly without conceptual filters getting in the way. Clearly this is loaded language. It is about whether Buddhist teaching is merely indicative or is intentionally connotative. Is it supposed to strip our perception down to a raw condition or is it supposed to add something to our perception that will enrich us? Is the proverbial 'finger pointing at the moon' supposed to alert us to the fact that it is just the moon that matters and to not see it as anything but moon, or is it to alert us to the fact that moonlight permeates all around and reflects in a million ways that we might not have noticed? And is the finger itself really not important? Is not the act of pointing itself connotative of the possibility of doing such a thing and is not the pointer to be congratulated?

All these reflections come from my disquiet at the minimalist tendency in Buddhism that seems ever intent on making things less rather than more and all too readily ends in puritanism. Take the business of language, for instance. Shakyamuni seems to have been deliberate about the language he used. When he told people to adopt the practice of reflecting "I am not that, that is not mine, that is not myself", he must have been aware that the contrary phrase "I am that" (Tat tvam asi) was the foremost slgan of the religious view that he was combatting, even though the context in which he used the phrase was quite different from that in which the Brahmins used the other one. There was surely here both rhetoric as well as science.

It is, in fact, only in science that language is purely indicative. In science what mattes is the phenomenon denoted and it matters not at all what symbol is used to denote it. 'x' will do. A pointing finger is all that is required. Whereas in the humanities, the word does matter. It might be true that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but it might not sound as sweet and it would not conjure the same associations. Connotative language has an important element of added value that indicative language does not. Surely Buddhism is connotative. It is an attempt to create civilization, not simply to reduce us all to primitive scientists.

This, therefore, is a plea to resist the purely 'see it as it is' approach - as if there were ever just one way that a thing 'is'. When we say the nembutsu we are adding Buddha to whatever is going on. This is why those approaches to mindfulness that declare it to be solely about enhancing physical perception miss the point. Mindfulness is really about keeping in mind the fact that there is more than meets the eye. Buddhist art must surely add in all the ways that enhance the spirit. Let us not become spiritual cameras, but spiritual composers.

[Armida]

Your comments and insights are such gorgeous language that I can only express gratitude to all of you for sharing. I think you are right on all aspects of looking at the thought of reaching beyond the material.

Even in my art, when I start building imagery around a core thought, I think of it all as a burst of energy manifesting, waiting to see when I can say the act is done.

[Mat Osmond]

I really like your simple expression of what happens when you paint Armida. And to me (in so far as we can see it online!), your painting feels fresh and direct, in just those terms.

I often think of my work as unspooling threads from what lies behind or at the heart of my urge to make things.

Thus, rather than the idea of penetrating to the essence or reducing it to its essentials, allowing the work's source to remain out of sight, or perhaps just in one's peripheral vision, and allowing an ongoing series of permutations or threads to unspool - or unfurl - from that source.