Episode 37 - Dialogue, religion & the arts

In this extended episode I suggest a few avenues of exploration concerning the arts as agencies of dialogue and how the arts can offer a model for how inter-religious dialogue might be developed and maintained. I offer some examples of the ways in which artworks and approaches to artmaking and appreciation can be considered as modes of conversation and as vehicles for sharing religious insights and experiences. I also introduce Edmund Burke’s ideas about the ‘sublime’ and suggest how feelings of awe and wonder can be shared experiences within arts and religious contexts. I hope you will find the episode to be interesting and, perhaps, useful.

Transcript

It seems to me that when we use the term ‘religion’ we are talking about three broad areas of practice, belief and study: 1. the experience, expression and celebration of human being, or becoming, relative to a vast universe; 2. the development of modes of liberation from the confines of the ego and self-centredness; and 3. the practice and expression of a formal religious belief or worldview, often within the framework of a religious institution or tradition. It is useful to note that many dictionary definitions of the word, ‘religion,’ refer to it as a particular system of belief in a god or gods, or other supernatural powers, and the activities connected to such a system. Under this kind of definition many Buddhist denominations would not be counted as a religion, as they do not necessitate a belief in a particular god or gods.

It is worth noting that it is quite difficult to find examples of arts projects explicitly dedicated to fostering inter-religious dialogue. However, I am going to suggest that there is a strong spirit of dialogue within the arts and that this both encourages inter-faith dialogue and provides a model for how inter-religious dialogue might be developed. 

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It is important to keep in mind that ‘dialogue’ doesn’t always mean agreement or consensus. Indeed, many exciting and productive dialogues are those in which differences are identified, discussed and even celebrated. Coming together to explore shared experiences and beliefs can often disclose very different approaches and concepts. Dialogue is an important way in which these differences can be appreciated, valued and respected rather than becoming the cause for misunderstanding, intolerance and conflict.

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In a sense all art forms involve a dialogue, even when it is rather one-sided in favour of the artist. Art as an expression or signifier of ideas, emotions, perceptions and beliefs, involves the activity of making and the intention of sharing: making visible, or audible, a thought, intuition, image, movement or sound, in order that it can be seen or heard by the artist/maker and, usually, by someone else. Externalising an image, sound, text or movement is mostly done to enable someone else to see, hear or read what has been made. There is usually, though not always, an intention to reveal what has previously been hidden, unobserved or unrealised to another person or persons. Again, usually, but not always, the act of making or revealing is part of a process of communication, an exchange of experiences between members of a community, or between different communities. A painting, novel, piece of music or dance can provide us with an insight into the worldview of a religious community as well as of an individual who may have no religious affiliations. This invitation for dialogue could be said to be implicit in the making of most artworks – across time and geography, culture and community.

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In relation to the visual arts and crafts, museums and galleries can be considered as sites for inter-cultural and inter-religious conversations. In museums we can encounter artefacts made by many cultures and religious groups. We see them and learn about them, and this leads to an interest in people and ideas that might previously have been unknown or alien to us. Sometimes the impact on us of such artefacts is very immediate and direct. We visit an exhibition about Islamic architecture, the Lindisfarne Gospels or Tibetan mandalas, and we often appreciate their beauty, craft and technical skill - even with no knowledge of the philosophical or religious ideas that underpin these artefacts. These aesthetic encounters and appreciation provide an important bridge to greater understanding of the communities within which these objects were made – and can lead to greater awareness of the beliefs and spiritual concepts that underpin such artefacts.

An anthology can be the literary equivalent of a museum in the visual and spatial arts. There are many anthologies that bring together translations of sacred texts from many religions, as well as anthologies of poetry that juxtapose poems drawn from Christian, Sufi, Jewish, Moslem, Buddhist and Hindu traditions. These anthologies provide an opportunity for cross-fertilisation of ideas, comparative study and mutual appreciation. Examples include: Jerome Rothenberg’s collection of texts from indigenous peoples around the world, titled, Technicians of the Sacred; Karen Armstrong’s anthology of religious and poetic experience, Tongues of Fire; and, Stephen Mitchell’s anthology of sacred poetry, The Enlightened Heart. 

I ought to mention another strand of literature that is relevant: the art of the essay. Essays have been written by countless people throughout recorded history, including some by prominent figures arguing for tolerance, dialogue and mutual understanding between religions. For instance: the seventeenth-century philosopher, John Locke, wrote an essay entitled, A Letter Concerning Toleration (published in 1689) that argued for tolerance of differing religious views and practices. In more recent times, the Cistercian monk, Thomas Merton, writes about the relationship between Christian forms of prayer and Zen Buddhist meditation – tracing similarities and differences, but always seeking understanding.

Also, in relation to literature, translation is a crucial process by which the literature of one culture or religion can begin to be understood and appreciated by another culture or religion. When translations of Chinese poetry began to be more widely available in Europe and America in the early twentieth century, they had a profound impact on the development of modernist English-language poetry and initiated an interest in the Daoist and Buddhist cultures of China. Western translator-poets, such as Arthur Waley and Ezra Pound, became ambassadors for the religious and philosophical heritage of China. Significant Chinese poets, whose poems were saturated with Daoist or Buddhist beliefs and concepts, could be read and studied by poets and scholars whose own cultural background may have been Christian or Jewish. Jerome Rothenberg and others, who have translated and re-worked the poetry and songs of native peoples around the world, enable us to appreciate the complex worldviews and poetics of people once described as ‘primitive.’ In these ways, the art of literary translation can be seen as an art of inter-religious dialogue.

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The visual arts, poetry and music, alongside the sciences, philosophy and religion, are vehicles of exploration and celebration. They enable us human beings to think about, and celebrate, birth, death, our place in the universe, our relationship with other beings, our sense of awe and wonder, and what we consider to be sacred, or worthy of reverence and respect. They also enable us to conceptualise, evoke and explore a possible non-material realm. The visual, auditory and spatial arts are particularly effective at constructing physical equivalents for some of these experiences and ideas, through symbols and other forms of signification. A visual artwork or poem or piece of music, can stand for, and/or evoke, a human experience that may be fleeting, ineffable and otherwise formless – this includes what we might call ‘religious’ experiences.

Our relation to artworks of any kind is primarily through feeling, sensation, intellectual stimulation and interpretation. The more an artwork stirs our emotions, excites our senses and intellect, and stimulates our interpretative or story-making capacities, the more value we tend to place on it. In a sense we may feel let down or constrained if we encounter an artwork that has an overt ‘meaning’ or ‘story’. The imposition of ‘meaning,’ or truth-value, by the artist, writer or critic, is something we tend to resist or react against. Overly didactic, dogmatic or propagandist art tends not to be valued for long - precisely because it insists on itself as ‘the truth’. What we look for in artworks is a zone of interpretation and transformation in which ideas about truth are contested or presented in a complex way, or in which our usual notions or assumptions are challenged and our tendency towards binary judgements (true/false, right/wrong, good/bad) are suspended. Recently, I heard the film director, Steven Spielberg, refer to this as the ‘common ground’ of the arts. In other words, a space in which diversity of forms, beliefs and interpretations are actively encouraged and appreciated. 

Artistic experiences and encounters involve being open to many truths. In this way we are liberated from the dictatorship of one truth and are thus transformed and empowered. Considered like this the arts provide a potential model of openness, receptivity and non-judgmental curiosity that can inform and encourage inter-religious dialogue. Indeed, this kind of non-dogmatic approach, in which diversity of expression and belief is welcomed and celebrated, provides a model for how we might engage with, and seek to resolve, conflicts and uncertainties that confront us in the complex uncertain world outside the art gallery, church or temple.  

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Of course, some artworks are overtly religious, in that they manifest and externalise religious beliefs, either by being commissioned by religious institutions or by representing the religious viewpoint of a particular artist, poet, playwright or composer. By engaging with these artworks, we can gain an insight into, and appreciation of, religious beliefs and iconography that may be very different to our own. 

When we hear a Christian mass set to music, we hear a composer’s interpretation or translation into sound of what a Christian ritual involves. Haydn’s, Mass No. 6 in G, gives us a glimpse of the religious sound-world heard by the court of Prince Esterhazy in Eisenstadt, Austria at the end of the 18th century. EXAMPLE

When we listen to the chanting of a group of Tibetan monks, we experience something of the contemplative discipline and concentration involved in the contemplative practices of Tibetan Buddhism. EXAMPLE

An altarpiece painted by Grunewald between 1512-1516 for a chapel in Isenheim, near Colmar in Germany, portrays with unflinching realism the crucifixion of Christ. Grunewald evokes the pain and grief that may well have been felt by Christ, and by his followers as they witnessed his torture, slow death and as they prepared his mutilated body for burial. This unusually intense painting gives us an insight into the aspirations and fears, beliefs and anxieties of a Christian community in Europe in the second decade of the 16th century.

When we marvel at a Tlingit mask in a museum we might also begin to wonder, and maybe to study, why such a mask was made, who wore it and in what ritual it might have been used. We come to appreciate how a people living on the west coast of North America, of whom we may know very little, can produce artefacts of great beauty and power, and convey something of the profound religious beliefs of their community. Our appreciation of aesthetic beauty can become an appreciation of a belief-system that may be very different to ours. As a Christian, Moslem, humanist or atheist we can come to understand and value an artefact produced as part of a shamanic religious practice – another example of inter-religious appreciation and, potentially, of understanding between religions.

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Of course, artworks can be used as instruments of propaganda and collective identity in ways that can be the antithesis of dialogue. Christian, Moslem, Buddhist and Jewish artworks and symbols have been employed as markers of difference and competing worldviews in many religious conflicts throughout history. The cross, and the star and crescent, were to be found on the shields and banners of opposing armies in the crusades and intifadas that occurred in the middle east between the eleventh and thirteenth centuries. Artistic constructs can be seen here as symbols of the breakdown of inter-religious dialogue, symbols of conflict, distrust and misunderstanding, rather than as symbols of harmony, trust and mutual understanding. In these contexts, we can see how an artistic culture of creative and interpretative freedom, is brought under the oppressive control of sectarian forces that are the very antithesis of creativity and freedom.

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It seems to me that there is a deep-rooted connection between artmaking and many forms of spiritual practice – be it prayer, meditation, contemplation, ritual or other modes of exploring and conceptualising the sacred. Given the close association between artmaking and the ‘rare and powerful states of mind’ that are typical of spiritual experiences, it is no surprise that the earliest evidence we have for these kind of experiences – the sense of awe and wonder at being alive – is to be found in the marks and images made in caves and other secluded spaces around the world. These provide us with an insight into the beliefs and worldview of palaeolithic hunter-gatherer peoples, and the need these peoples had to express and externalise their curiosity and insight.

At the heart of many accounts of ‘religious’ experiences, perhaps as true for our palaeolithic ancestors as it is for us today, is the feeling of liberation from the confines of the ego or self – a vivid experience of connection and boundlessness that is transformative – sometimes life-changing in its impact. This transformative experience of connection with other beings and with the universe as a whole, often referred to as religious, spiritual or sacred, is common to most human societies and cultures. This is as true for a shaman in a native American or African community, as it is for a Christian, Moslem or Jewish person – profound religious experiences seem to be common to all of humanity regardless of geography or ideology.

These experiences, which are somehow both destabilising and harmonious, liberating and reassuring, give rise to a re-oriented sense of self and a revitalisation of the personality. Remove the cultural and religious inflexions of these descriptions of states of mind and we can easily see the similarity between these accounts and the experiences we often have in our encounters with artworks. Artworks, artmaking and spiritual practices can all be considered as sites of transformation and reorientation, and as potential tools for inter-religious dialogue.

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Another perspective on these matters is offered by art and architecture that often define, or mark out, a space in which religious, spiritual experiences and states of heightened consciousness are encouraged. The space itself is considered as a sacred site, and artistic means are employed to engender spiritual experiences in the minds of those who enter the space. Visits to these sites can be vehicles for inter-religious comparison and understanding.

On such visits we get a sense of the many ways in which peoples celebrate their sense of the divine and their wonder at the majesty of the universe. Here are a few random examples: Stonehenge and Rouen cathedral; the caves in Lascaux, southern France and the huge Hagia Sophia mosque in Istanbul (also once a Christian church); and, the massive rock formation known as Uluru, sacred to the aboriginal peoples of Australia, and the stone garden at Roanji Zen temple in Kyoto, Japan.

Sand-paintings done by Navajo in southwest USA and sand mandalas made by Buddhists in Bhutan mark out sacred sites in the same way that Hagia Sophia does. Perhaps the similarity between the interior of the National Gallery in London and the vaulted space of Rouen cathedral, arises from the deep connection between art and sacred or spiritual practices?

Art and architecture also play a prominent role in marking sites where religious experiences, encounters or other events, and heightened states of consciousness, are said to have occurred. Again, our understanding of different religions can be enhanced by visiting these places and standing in a space considered sacred and special by particular religious communities. Examples include: Elijah’s cave, on Mount Carmel near Haifa, Israel – where Elijah is said to have prayed prior to challenging the priests and worshippers of Baal. This cave is considered sacred by Jewish, Christian and Muslim communities and is a destination for many pilgrims; the Mahabodhi temple, at Bodhgaya, eastern India – is visited by many Buddhists as the place where Gotama Buddha is said to have experienced enlightenment or awakening; another such site is the Dome of the Rock, in Jerusalem, Israel – considered sacred by both Jewish and Muslim communities; and also the Kaaba shrine, at the Great Mosque, in Mecca, Saudi Arabia – the most sacred of Islamic shrines and a site Muslims try to visit at least once in their lives.

Given the relationship between aesthetic and religious experiences – between our appreciation of awe and beauty and our sense of the sacred, it is no surprise that when we stand in a cathedral, mosque or temple, it may be difficult to disentangle the experience of beauty and awe from the spiritual feelings that may arise within such spaces. 

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I am now going to look at all this from another perspective. In 1757 the Irish philosopher, Edmund Burke, published his treatise titled: A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful. Burke made a distinction between the concept of beauty, which meant being aesthetically pleasurable, and the ‘sublime,’ which could be challenging to look at, even ‘ugly’ and ill-proportioned, but which had the power to engender feelings of awe, grandeur and even fear. For Burke, the sublime had greater merit than the merely beautiful – the sublime was described in terms that connected with profound religious experiences. It could be argued that experiencing the sublime, or some other form of non-institutionalised religious experience, in encounters with artworks, provides a potential bridge between religions. 

Feelings of quasi-religious awe, wonder, or unity, experienced as we listen to a piece of Sufi music, or a Jewish song, or a Greek orthodox chant, can instil an appreciation of the fact that composers and musicians with a religious worldview very different to our own, can speak to us and move us in ways that transcend the boundaries and taboos that might often inhibit us from communication and dialogue. 

The non-verbal directness of musical sounds seems particularly suited to the evoking of religious feelings – heightened states of consciousness that many people describe in terms such as, ‘divine,’ ‘sacred’ or, as in the case of Hildegard of Bingen, as the ‘breath of God.’ Music, in the form of chanting, is found in many religious rituals – across many traditions. Chanting and the singing of hymns and so on are often considered, in themselves, to be spiritual or religious practices. This is something that connects what might seem to be wholly unrelated traditions. As examples here are extracts from three very different musical traditions that have an explicitly religious focus. 

First, here is a clip from a piece composed by the German mystic, diplomat and abbess, Hildegard van Bingen, who lived from 1098 – 1179. Bingen’s music and poetry is collected under the title, The Symphony of the Harmony of Celestial Revelations. This extract is titled, ‘Ave Generosa’ – a very earthy hymn to the Virgin Mary that includes the beautiful lines: ‘Your flesh has known delight, / like the grassland touched by dew.’ Here, in a Naxos recording, it is performed by Oxford Camerata under the direction of Jeremy Summerly.

Second, is a Folkways recording of a Navajo Night Chant – a chant that is performed as part of a healing ceremony by members of the Navajo community in the Southwestern region of the United States.

Third, is a recording of part of the Divine Liturgy of Resurrection from within the Greek Orthodox Christian tradition. The choir sing a capella under the direction of Constantin Zorbas.

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Finally, I would like to mention that religious rituals that establish relationships between the individual and community, and realms of the sacred, are often echoed in the arts of performance and theatre. Witnessing performances of this kind provide opportunities to gain insight into a religious perspective that may be very different to our own. One well-known example of an artistic enterprise that was explicitly established to promote inter-religious dialogue is the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, founded by the Jewish composer, Daniel Barenboim. The orchestra aims to promote understanding between Israelis, Palestinians and others, and to cultivate peace between communities in the Middle East. By sitting together, literally in harmony, musicians from many countries and religious backgrounds can exercise peace and fellowship in the making of music together. They offer a model for how artistic practice can bring people together despite their religious differences. This reinforces my argument that the arts can provide a secure space and framework within which differences, social, political or religious, are not the basis of conflict and pain, but rather the opportunity for peace, dialogue and creative interaction. 

I hope you have found this episode to be of interest – if you have, do listen to other episodes of the Dharma Roads podcast and mention them to your friends.

Be kind to yourself and to those around you.

Thank you for listening and bye for now.

Bibliography

Armstrong, Karen, ed. 1987. Tongues of Fire: An Anthology of Religious and Poetic Experience. London: Penguin.

Armstrong, Karen. 2006. The Great Transformation: The World in the Time of Buddha, Socrates, Confucius and Jeremiah. London: Atlantic Books.

Baas, Jacqueline & Jacob, Mary Jane, eds. 2004. Buddha Mind in Contemporary Art. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Baas, Jacqueline. 2005. Smile of the Buddha: Eastern Philosophy and Western Art from Monet to Today. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Bird, Michael S. 1995. Art and Interreligious Dialogue. London: University of America Press.

Happold, F. C. 1970. Mysticism: A Study and an Anthology. London: Pelican.

Kennedy, Robert E. 1995. Zen Spirit, Christian Spirit. New York: Continuum.

Mitchell, Stephen, ed. 1993. The Enlightened Heart: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry. New York: HarperPerennial.

Rexroth, Kenneth. 1974. New Poems. New York: New Directions.

Rothenberg, Jerome, ed. 1969. Technicians of the Sacred: A Range of Poetries from Africa, America, Asia & Oceania. New York: Anchor.

Snyder, Gary. 2000. The Gary Snyder Reader: Prose, Poetry, and Translations. Washington, D.C.: Counterpoint. 

Walker, Susan, ed. 1987. Speaking of Silence: Christians and Buddhists on the Contemplative Way. New York: Paulist Press.

Recordings

Byzantine Music of the Greek Orthodox Church, Vol. 2, The Resurrection Hymns. Byzantine Choir conducted by Constantin Zorbas. Eroica Classical Recordings. 2008.

Hildegard von Bingen: Celestial Harmonies: Responsories & Antiphons. Oxford Camerata conducted by Jeremy Summerly. Naxos. 2008.

Joseph Haydn. Missa Sancti Nicolai & Theresienmesse. The English Concert & Choir, conducted by Trevor Pinnock. DG Archiv. 2000.

Music of the American Indians of the Southwest: Navajo: Night Chant. Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. 1951.

Om Mantra Meditation: Tibetan Monks Chanting Om Mantra. Acerting Art. 2016.

Links

Directory & map of Inter-religious dialogue organisations: https://connect2dialogue.org/full-directory/ 

International Interfaith Centre Oxford: https://iicao.org/ 

Interfaith Film & Music Festival, New York City: https://www.interfaithfilmfest.com/