Art

Art. Although religions are usually studied through their words and texts, religious people live at least as much (probably more) through their non-verbal modes of expression—through ritual at least as much as through myth, through rhythm as much as through song. Beyond ritual, religious art extends the human ability to communicate through complex signsystems, locking on, especially, to the imagination of worlds and states which cannot be directly seen. Religious art is profoundly connected to the human ability to recognize and take delight in truth, beauty, and goodness. What counts as beautiful or good may differ from one religion to another (or from one age to another in any religion), but not the human ability to recognize those absolutes within the change and contingency of human circumstance. Thus religious art is extensively concerned with celebration, worship, thanks-giving, and praise. Art and prayer are connected in that, according to one artist (R. Raistick), an artist must spend ‘hour after hour looking at the one subject’, just as those who pray spend hour after hour looking at the One Subject. Above all, the demands of religious art have offered the supreme challenge and opportunity to the human ability to create—to be the creator of artefacts, to be an artist. Not surprisingly, religions have been the resource and inspiration of almost all the most enduring art and architecture throughout the whole of human history, at least until very recently; and religions (i.e. religious people or institutions) have been evocative of art through patronage on a massive scale.

Yet at the same time, each religion develops its own distinctive art, dance, architecture, and music. That is because such art cannot be detached from the entire network of ‘information’ which constitutes the characteristic nature, form, and content of each religion (obviously, the sub-systems of any religion may themselves be competitive in such a way that the very status of art may itself be contested). Thus Judaism produces synagogues, Christianity produces churches, Islam mosques, Hinduism temples, Buddhism stūpas, etc. Partly this is a function of available materials and current technology. But also (and much more), these characteristic ‘shapes’ are controlled into their outcome by the ideology (represented through signs, symbols, and icons) of the religion in question. These sign-systems provide the controlling metaphors for religious art; but then, conversely, religious art mediates those basic, controlling metaphors back into the lives of believers, transforming them into outcomes that could not otherwise occur.

Religious art does this at many different levels and in equally many different ways. At its most basic (and often most banal), religious art can be propaganda; not far beyond that, it can be exploitation (the attempt to elicit religious emotions at an immature level, what Rose Macaulay summarized as ‘bleeding hearts in convent parlours’). It can be coercive (Doré's engravings of heaven are perfunctory, of hell terrifying), it can be repetitive and dull, it can simply be illustration. But moving again beyond that, religious art can both be, and be the instrument of, a reawakening of forgotten or abandoned truths about ourselves and our possibilities: it can open eyes to a new seeing of an otherwise prosaic world. At this level, the controlling metaphors become, not restriction, but opportunity, not least because they evoke contrasted meanings. Finally, the manifestations of religious art can be epiphany: they can be what they purport to be about, the incursion of whatever it is that is true into the midst of time and space. Art is then holy rather than religious.

Judaism

Jewish art is a dialectic between strong prohibitions against making images or likenesses of living creatures (Exodus 20. 4, Deuteronomy 4. 16–8, 5. 8) and the celebration of craftsmanship in the building of the Temple and its appurtenances. In general, Jewish art has focused on the synagogue and its contents, and on Torah manuscripts and Torah ornaments (e.g. the keter or crown, the rimmonim, the finials on the rollers holding the scroll). Jewish symbols reconnect with the lost temple, most recurrently through the menorah. Among other books beautifully produced, the Passover Haggadah has been the most frequent.

Synagogue architecture has seen many different styles of hall or building appropriated through the ages. Apart from the necessity to separate women from men (in Orthodox synagogues), the main requirement is to give prominence (and protection) to the Torah Scroll, and to provide a pulpit for the reading of scripture.

Christianity

Beginning from simple emblems of identity and allegiance (e.g. the sign of a fish, since the Gk. for ‘fish’ is ichthus, the letters of which stand for Jesus Christ, God and Saviour) Christian art and architecture developed into the most diverse forms of expression. The representation of biblical scenes, and of the Last Judgement, were visual aids in the instruction of largely illiterate or uneducated populations. But the power inherent in such representations led directly to the development of icons—and to the eventual controversy about the extent to which, if at all, they were/are idolatrous. Mosaics (those of Ravenna being especially fine early examples) and wall-paintings were reinforced in churches by stained glass. But church buildings themselves summarized Christian truths and affirmations in their layout: thus the secular basilica, or assembly hall, was adapted to draw attention to the celebration of the eucharist, and to the role of the bishop in presiding; or again, Gothic cathedrals extended the shape to make it cruciform, and to enhance the vast and mysterious unknowability of God who can only be approached in penitence and praise. Redevelopment of Christian art simply cannot be summarized: resting frequently on a strong doctrine of creation (as also on developing systems of patronage and commissioning), it is, at its best, a deliberate extension of the work of the Holy Spirit in bringing order and beauty out of chaos and ugliness. At its worst, it is the illustration of a text, sometimes allied to the spiritual terrorization which can on occasion characterize Christian missionary zeal.

Islam

Muslim art is controlled by the prohibition on rivalling God as creator, and thus on portraying the human figure. The work of the artist or architect in Islam is limited, therefore, to the work of giving praise to Allāh, or to expressing allegiance (islam). Supremely this is seen in mosque architecture, which may be extremely simple—nothing more than a hut—or classically elegant and cool. It needs little more, internally, than the niche indicating the direction of prayer towards Mecca (mihrab; see MOSQUE) and the pulpit for the delivering of the sermon (khuṭba), and externally the minaret from which the faithful are summoned to prayer. But it calls also for the reminder of the primacy of the Qurān over life through the carving of texts from the Qurān. This, as also the writing of copies of the Qurān, led to the most distinctive of Islamic art forms, calligraphy.

Hinduism

Of all religions, Hinduism is most vivid in its iconography, because of its belief that the underlying source of all appearance (Brahman) is present in all appearance. Thus the work of the sculptor, etc., is to make manifest what is already there in the material, not simply to illustrate a story about the gods. They can thus produce the state of rasananda (see RASA), blissful union with the god, often regarded as the equivalent of samādhi. But the same is possible in all the arts (e.g. dance, music, drama) because there is nothing in the cosmos which is not sustained in being by Brahman. The recognition of this is equally obvious in the attention paid to the sacred orientation of space. The order made apparent in astronomy, geometry, mathematics (hence the early Hindu commitment to these arts which the West would regard as sciences) led to a mapping of that cosmic order on to space in miniature (e.g. through the maṇḍala) or in the planning of towns, but above all in the architecture of temples and shrines.

The temple is the major source and expression of Hindu art. Its shape, laid down in the śāstras, was originally a square, designed to concentrate force. Above the shrine is a tower (the śikara, a symbolic mountain), channelling the deity into the shrine and the worshipper, and radiating power upward as well. From the temple derive carving (to entice the deities or spirits), dance, the creation of manuscripts, and the decoration of textiles. The temple then reaches out into everyday life through the corresponding decoration of house and body. Thus the creation of the classical music, the rāga, is understood as the ‘building of a temple’: ‘In the improvised pieces, you start like building a temple: you lay the foundations, then gradually you build up the building, then you do the decorative things, like the painting and carving. Finally you bring out the deity, into that temple.’

Jainism

Jain art is devoted mainly to the decoration of temples (sāmavasarāna, regarded as assembly halls of the jinas, not as places where God or gods are worshipped) and to reverence for the jinas. While Jain art shares much of the styles and techniques of Indian art in general, it is different in important respects. Above all (since a controlling metaphor of paramount importance for Jains is ahiṃsā), the atmosphere of Jain art is one of great peacefulness. For the same reason, materials are avoided which might involve the taking of life, e.g. clay and ivory. The main figures represented are those of the jinas, but the śāsanadevatās are also common. Also distinctive are ayagapata, small carvings, incorporating elaborate symbolism, which express devotion. They may be related to yantras and maṇḍalas.

Sikhism

See ICONOGRAPHY.

Buddhism

Buddhist art, with the possible exception of Zen art (see below), did not arise from such deep theoretical considerations as did the Hindu. It arose from grateful recognition of the work of the Buddha in teaching the way to the cessation of dukkha. The Buddha is therefore represented increasingly with the marks indicating his status or his achievement of nirvāna. The elaboration of saviour-figures in Mahāyāna and Tibetan Buddhism led to an immense proliferation of sculpture and wallpainting, with extremely careful codes of iconographic symbols. The devotion of thanksgiving to the Buddha (and eventually to buddhas and bodhisattvas) led to the building of caityas and stūpas; and the formal organization of Buddhism into communities of monks (bhikṣu) required the building of accommodation in monasteries (vihāra). The development of these into large temple and monastic complexes is particularly impressive in Japan.

Chan/Zen art occupies a special place in Buddhism. Chan/Zen is a way of seeing through the superficial claims of appearance in reality, enticement, endurance, etc., to the true buddha-nature of all appearance. Zen realization, is both attained and expressed through the arts. Architecture of monasteries is thus related to environment, especially by the development of gardens leading into the natural landscape. Rock gardens, with carefully swept sand, challenge the perception of the ordinary; the tea-garden surrounded the tea-ceremony (see CHADŌ).

In addition to architecture, calligraphy is central in Chan/Zen art. Calligraphy precedes Chan in China, but it was raised to new heights by Chan practitioners, especially in the Sung period. In Japan, it was known originally as shojutsu, but later as shodō. The importance for Zen lies in the complete connection between the artist and the art: nothing serves so well to overcome the opposition between worker and work: the medium is the messenger; the connection from heart-mind, through brush and ink, to paper realizes the unity of the one buddha-nature.