OK--this image is Praying for Peace, a painting (or is it a print? Hell, I don't know) by The Painter of THE Light, Ron Dicianni. (This as opposed to the mere Painter of Light(R), Thomas Kinkade.) I would never have known this work existed had if I had not attended the iMOCA lecture Thursday night at IMCPL Central by Tyler Green, "Ten Things I Hate About Contemporary Art." This one fell under Hated Thing #7--Hypocrisy ("but I love art's ability to point out hypocrisy," said Green).Green went on about how this composition picked up on conventions of Renaissance painting, including the positioning of the representation President Bush against a cross. There is also an interesting trinity (Father, Son, Holy Ghost) of what are presumably three Presidents, though I agree with Green--the one on the right must be Washington, but who knew? I also love the fact that Lincoln and "Washington" look like holograms. Hey CNN, take a tip. This is how it's done, baby.
Anyway, this work, for me, is out of bounds. Saccharine in feeling, slick in its combination of classic 20th-century and amped-up, 21st-century-techno illustrative memes, and sinister in its conflation of Christian iconography with American presidential history, (ouch! did I get that line from the Instant Art Critique Phrase Generator?) it isn't just bad--it's outright scary. I don't care how much you Rockwell-up President Bush, this painting reminds me of how I felt on the morning of Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004, when I realized upon awakening that I would be spending four more years in a theocracy. ("I earned capital in the campaign, political capital," said Bush on November 4, "and now I intend to spend it." .....Boy howdy.)
I famously stayed in bed the whole day.

But setting this image aside (oh, do let's!), I began to look for other contemporary American religious art(specifically Christian), and I came across an artist who--I think--operates right on America's most interesting and perhaps volatile border, exploiting the tension between freedom of expression and freedom of religion. Dylan Mortimer, a native of St. Louis, has created numerous series of work that confront viewers with their own feelings about public expressions of Christian faith. Tyler Green agreed with Lou Harry's item 3 on Harry's 10 Things I Hate about Contemporary Art list--artist's statements. Well, I think Mortimer's is a model statement with nary a clause from the Art Phrase Generator.
"Does evangelism have any place in the art world? Does the nature of Evangelical Christianity threaten the artistic process? How can the most used subject matter in the history of art still be challenging and relevant today? These are some of the questions I try to address in my work. I am a Christian, but I aim to warn and inform the public about the difficulties of my faith. The artistic process is essentially about questioning and doubting. Faith is the process of finding answers and believing. My exploration is to question whether the two can co-exist.
By employing the language of familiar public formats (signage, advertising, public communication systems, etc.) I aim to ask questions about public and private faith in contemporary society. I try to balance humor and seriousness, sarcasm and sincerity, in a way that bridges a subject matter that is often presented as he
avy or difficult to deal with. By appropriating signs and materials, the work asks questions about society’s depth of spirit
ual belief, the customization of religion and the restriction or tolerance of religious behavior in public settings.I am interested in presenting these ideas and issues in a way that will cause the audience to question their assumptions and beliefs. The intent of the work is to create questions that allow the viewer to confront their religious and spiritual feelings.
I would like to see a show of Mortimer's work, but a virtual presentation of it is convinces me that the work is smart, serious, and sincere, and gets me right at the place where I feel most threatened by the repressive agenda of right-wing Christian conservatism, (which is not to say that Mortimer is a right-wing or conservative. He's simply Christian), and most ambivalent about freedom of expression.
I am never content to stop with the work--I like to dig into the artist's biography. This penchant of mine can be an extremely annoying to some in the art world, but I am not going to apologize. I like to know what motivates an artist. Here's some background on Mortimer: he received his BFA from
Kansas City Art Institute and his MFA from the School of Visual Arts, New York City (2006). He is the son of a minister. In radio interviews, he has alluded to his former partying ways, and in a recent Kansas City Star interview he talked about his return to the church:While attending the Kansas City Art Institute, he started going to church again at the brand new Rivercity Community Church in Westport. “When I first went, it was just my three friends and eight homeless guys,” Mortimer remembered. “It was real and authentic. For me, church hadn’t been like that before.”Mortimer continued his artistic education, earning his MFA from the School of Visual Arts in New York before returning to Kansas City when Rivercity Community Church asked him to be its minister."
Some of Dylan Mortimer's sermons can be found here.
What Mortimer has never much discussed with the media is that he has cystic fibrosis. In the 1950s, children born with CF were unlikely to live past the elementary school years. Now it has advanced to age 30+. In a podcast Mortimer talked at length about his life with CF and sounds nonplussed by life expectancy statistics for people with the disease, opting to make whatever time he has count. (Above, Prayer Booth, now installed in NYC.)

4 comments:
The Ron Dicianni work calls to question my long-held belief in a semiotic interpretation of art, to wit: "art" is contained in the tri-part relationship of the sign vehicle (the "work") the interpreter (viewer) and the referrant (the meaning that the viewer is caused to take account of). So, for instance, if I see a painting of the Madonna and Child (and boy, I just saw a ton of them in Italy) and am only caused to think about or feel emotions about my own mother, then that is the whole meaning of the painting at that moment. If you see the same painting and are caused to feel deep religious devotion, but not to think of your own mother (or mine), then that is the whole meaning of the artwork at that moment. In this view, an art work has meaning only to the extent it carries meaning for an interpreter and precisely to the extent that interpreter is caused to take account of that meaning.
Noticeably absent from this view is anything having to do with the intentions of the artist (let alone his biography). Another way to say this: you can't call the artist into the room and ask him the "real" meaning.
The Dicianni work challenges my semiotic theory of art because, when I first saw the work, I thought it was an excellent contemporary artwork - a parody of the religious right theocracy in general and of W. in particular. I now know the artist's intention was just the opposite. Both the artist's interpretation and mine could fit within my semiotic theory of art, of course, but the question is: both views have meaning, but are both views "art"? Intuitively, I want to not consider this as "art" but meerly crass commercialized imagery now that I know the artist's intention, even though I just noted my first interpretation that it was a terrific art work. Good old fashioned prejudice on my part or a true distinction?
So: If I tack a velvet Elvis on my wall because I love Elvis then it has meaning for me, of course, but shall we call that "art"? Is that all art is? But if I tack the same velvet Elvis on the walls of a contemporary art museum to comment on on the base nature of commercialized pseudo-art, is this same velvet Elvis now "art"? If so, it seems the artist's intention is stuck in there somewhere.
P.S. A Mr. Logic Bonus Question: And if Ron Dicianni's work caused me to take account of all this, did it just elevate to the status of "art" by doing so (under my original theory?)
Mom...My Brain hurts!!!
"I agree/disagree with some of the things that have just been said, but the iconicity of the negative space contextualizes the accessibility of the work."
bloghub said: "If you see the same painting and are caused to feel deep religious devotion, but not to think of your own mother (or mine), then that is the whole meaning of the artwork at that moment."
Because I have never known what to think when I see such paintings, I will now always think of bloghub's mother when I see one.
P.S. Check out Ilene Satala's "Rose Madonna" in the centerspread of the November-December 2008 issue of Branches magazine. Does the child remind you of anyone?
EFK--laughed until I was gasping for air.
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