Genesis 1.1-5: Chiaroscuro

God spoke: "Light!" And light appeared. (Genesis 1:3a, The Message). Light. And dark. Each needs the other in order to be defined, particularly in art. If a painting is all light, with no contrasting dark, it feels too simple, too surface. Dark alone is the same way. It is the pairing of the two - light and dark - in various ways that brings variety, and harmony to any work of art. Throughout the history of art, light and dark have been explored and exploited in various ways. 

A strong contrast of light and dark in the visual art is called chiarascuro (/kyärəˈsk(y)o͝orō/), which literally means light-dark (chiaro meaning “clear” or “bright" and oscuro meaning “obscure”' or “dark”). Seventeenth-century Italian painter Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (usually just referred to as "Caravaggio"), was the painter who first made this strong contrast of light and dark into a trademark of his style. Artists who came immediately after him and followed his style were referred to as Caravaggists. 

Though created centuries after Caravaggio's work, the photograph of a cabbage leaf (below), embodies the ideas of chiaroscuro. The photo's background is a velvety rich darkness, and the topmost parts of the cabbage leaf are the lightest points. Between the background and the highlights is a full range of values. The gradation of light to dark is what creates a sense of three-dimensional form in the folds of the leaf. The sharp meeting of light and dark creates a hard edge that separates the dark background from the lighter leaf. It is the contrast that shows the form.

Edward Weston. Cabbage Leaf. 1931. NY: Museum of Modern Art. 

God spoke: "Light!" And there was light. By that light God saw the individual shapes and forms of what was being created. By that light we all see. God spoke, and there was light, where there only had been darkness. Jesus, the light of the world.

The word photography literally means "writing with light." In this season of Epiphany, why not try writing with light as a photographic exercise. See Art&Faith Matters on Facebook for tips.
 

Epiphany: Meh...

The conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn that happened right before Christmas had some people in a tizzy. Others not so much. I am firmly in Camp Tizzy. I had my camera and tripod set up looking toward the southwest sky. Because I live in a decent-sized city, I had to deal with light pollution in general, and my across-the-street neighbors have blue icicle lights hanging across the front of their house. I'm fine with the blue lights, but they did cast an interesting light. I took dozens of photos of these two small points of light, closer together than they had been seen at night in 800 years.

In 1226, when a conjunction this close was last seen at night (which means everyone can actually see it), Francis of Assisi was still alive (he died in October 1226). Notre Dame de Paris was still under construction, and the roof structure had just been redesigned using that latest architectural innovation, the rib vault. Frederick II was the Holy Roman Emperor, Henry III was King of England, and Louis VIII was King of France.

I was smitten.

Photo by Lynn Miller. You are welcome to use it, but please give credit. 

And then I read comments by friends (and their friends) on social media pooh-poohing the idea that this might have been the "Christmas Star."

"Who would travel to see that?"

"The Christmas star looked like this!" (accompanied by a piece of clip art that included a cruciform star casting its beams in the four cardinal directions)

"I wasn't impressed."

"God would do better than that."

Now, I don't know exactly what the Christmas star was (planetary conjunction? supernova? something else entirely?), but it made me stop and think about "spectacle" and the Christmas story. First, if the magi were students of the stars, maybe this is exactly the kind of occurrence for which they would have traveled to get a better view. Though Jupiter and Saturn meet about every 20 years, the next conjunction that comes close to this one is in 2080. Sixty years from now. How many of us will still be here? Maybe this is more special than it looks.

And I have to think that something like that was the sentiment of the magi when they showed up with their extravagant gifts and the recipient was the infant son of a Jewish peasant couple. This has to be more special than it looks. And, of course, for those of us who follow Jesus, it is. What looks to the world like any set of parents and their baby is God's message of love and salvation to and for the world. And the message wears diapers and spits up. Who would travel to see that?

Epiphany means manifestation, something that embodies something else, especially a theory or abstract idea/ Jesus is the manifestation of Emmanuel, God with us. But you could be forgiven if you didn't get that right away. The story of Epiphany is the story of dreamers. Of people who follow stars and see royalty in babies. Nothing meh about that.

For NASA's information on the Great Conjunction, click here.

Ephesians 1:3-14: There's Chance and There's Chosen

Christ chose us, destined us, and adopted us, according to Ephesians 1:3-14. Chosen, not chance. In time, the writer of Ephesians goes on to say, all things (including us) will be gathered up in him. Jeremiah 31:8-10 talks about gathering up of the people of God who have been scattered and bringing them back home. This idea of being disordered and reordered, of chance and choice, plays out in an interesting way in the collages of Jean Arp and Ellsworth Kelly. 

Collage itself is a gathering and ordering process. Originally made of paper (papier colle...or pasted paper), collage may include any number of materials and processes, assembled and reassembled, arranged and rearranged, until the desired image or effect is achieved. 

Jean Arp moved in exactly the opposite direction by tearing pieces of paper, dropping them onto a paper support and pasting them where they landed. Arp controlled the pieces to be dropped - their size, color, shape - but he allowed the weight of the paper, any movement in the air, and other physical properties to impact the paper and determine the ultimate composition. The pieces were chosen but then left to their own devices or to the winds of fate.

Ellsworth Kelly also created a collage based on chance. The colored papers were cut into squares and placed in the collage grid through a mathematical system that associated numbers with colors. The mathematical system, rather than the intention of the artist, determined the final composition of the work. Kelly's title - "Spectrum Colors Arranged by Chance" - tells the story.

God's care, outlined in both Ephesians and Jeremiah is the opposite of chance. According to Jeremiah, God's people are not treated like Arp's paper, left to find their own place according to whatever influences may act upon them. Nor are God's people exactly like the papers in Kelly's collage, arranged by the luck of the draw according to some system set in motion. Instead, the people of God are chosen before the foundations of the earth. And though scattered, they are gathered from the farthest parts of the earth and brought home, walking by streams of water in a straight path. That's good news, because while chance may lead to some interesting art, it's not much in terms of a divine plan.

(Top) Jean (Hans) Arp. Untitled (Collage with Squares Arranged according to the Law of Chance).1916–17. NY: Museum of Modern Art. (Bottom) Ellsworth Kelly. Spectrum Colors Arranged by Chance I. 1951. Philadelphia Museum of Art.