On my wall hangs a picture by the Yorkshire artist Jake Attree, entitled River Aire: Hirst Wood. It does depict a specific location, and one that I recognise because I have walked there on several occasions. That, however, has nothing to do with why I bought it. The point of the picture lies in its mystery. Is it early in the morning, or in the evening? That particular shade of yellow: is it the colour of birches in early spring, or in autumn? Exactly where is the boundary between the water and the river bank? The proper response to it, however, is not to say, “Oh! That’s Hirst Wood!” What fascinates me is the mystery of it all. This sense is compounded when I look at how Jake has painted it. I work in oil pastels (used also in his picture) but I’m blowed if I know exactly how he has produced the surface at which I’m looking. There is an impression of a terrific impasto …. but just how can you get that with oil pastels? It’s a mystery to me!
“Mystery” is, for me, a very important category in the appreciation of art. It is one I value in the work of others, and it gives me particular satisfaction if, for one reason or another, I’m able to introduce it into my own painting. There is no point in painting clinical, factual images of the world …. unless, I suppose the artist wants to make a statement about the banal facticity of that world. I don’t.
“Mystery”, in my opinion, lies at the heart of religion also, and links it closely to art. It is important to recognise (to follow up the argument I initiated in yesterday’s post) that religious language is not concerned with making flat, descriptive observations about the world, but with the exposure and exploration of its mystery. If a Christian tells me that it is necessary to “believe in the Lord Jesus Christ to be saved”, or if a Muslim tells me that Muhammad is the prophet of Allah, these are only superficially statements of the kind my wife might make if she tells me that in order to make bread I must use yeast, or if she says that the person who has just passed the window is the postman. Unless you have grasped that difference then you’ve missed the point. Grammatically they have similar structures, but in each case the apparently factual statements of religious faith point us towards a world that is essentially mysterious. I’m drawn into that world of faith, as I’m drawn into Jake Attree’s painting, by the fact that it confronts me with mysteries that cannot be simply stated let alone resolved.
I am not sure who annoys me most in the contemporary world: the radical proselytisers for atheism who lecture the faithful about their lack of scientific knowledge, or the evangelicals who will spin all kinds of fantastic tales in order to support their claim that science has got it wrong. Perhaps if they both knew a little more about art they might waste less of their time. It’s a mystery to me.
PS: I expect to be in Newcastle tomorrow night. I hope that my hotel will have ready access to wifi.