I have no doubt that the daily drama of American crises is causing a lot of art to be created — and viewed.
“Our truest response to the irrationality of the world is to paint or sing or write, for only in such response do we find truth,” said Madeleine L’Engle.
And explaining our truth in storytelling is a form of powerful activism. It invites viewers to ask how and why. It leads to a greater understanding of art, sculpture, ceramics, photography, music and other forms of expression.
Phawnda Moore
An “Artist Statement,” often shown alongside visual art in exhibitions, brings the viewers into an imaginary studio to learn about the artist’s process. The blessing of writing or reading this statement allows human emotions and experiences to be shared and better understood.
It’s time to revisit the meaning of being human because the dignity and freedom of humanity is being challenged and mocked. The sheer destruction of decades of human achievements (created in skill, hope and excellence lovingly meant for everyone) is heartless and disturbing.
“It’s time to revisit the meaning of being human because the dignity and freedom of humanity is being challenged and mocked.”
As described in the Declaration of Independence, those created in God’s image are not a political commodity. Today, various groups who seek greater power neither acknowledge nor respect unalienable rights. All this, combined with the absence of Christian compassion and a moral compass, demands a response.
So, for a piece of art, I recently lettered a few select lines from the accomplished Victorian-era poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning and painted two doves.
The poem is a statement that doves were created to be here. “And there my little doves did sit, with feathers softly brown, and glittering eyes that showed their right, to general Nature’s deep delight.”
Like humans, all God’s creations should exist without fear or injury. We have an unalienable right to life, liberty and freedom.
At first glance, seeing two mourning doves in a nature setting might serve as a reminder of hope and peace.
Reading the poetry tells a deeper story from the artist, whose perspective was shaped by the culture, her upbringing and her own spirit of unalienable rights.
The oldest of 12 children, Browning was born to a wealthy family of plantation owners until the abolition of slavery in England in 1833 reversed their finances. From a young age, she was isolated, often bedridden with a painful spinal condition. Yet she found her purpose by writing about things that mattered to her, such as social issues, injustice, child labor, slavery and women’s equality.
Her empathy for others is expressed in My Doves, penned after her father brought her the two doves from his travels. She observed her newly displaced, feathered companions, taken from their tropical surroundings, adjust to their chilly surroundings, “a city prison.”
She realized the doves were not weary or even sad because love keeps the music and memories alive. They were still “fit ministers.” Browning felt strengthened by their steadfastness and humility, described as “an inner life that is a boundless sea.”
Always her own person, she once wrote to John Ruskin: “I belong to a family of West Indian slaveholders, and if I believed in curses, I should be afraid.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s most famous poetry, Sonnets from the Portuguese, first published in 1850, is a collection of 44 love sonnets written to her husband, fellow poet Robert Browning. When she found love and happiness, also unalienable rights, she resisted her controlling father’s orders for his children to never marry. After a secret marriage, she was disinherited and the Brownings moved and lived happily in Florence, Italy. In 1861, she died in her husband’s arms, and her last word was “beautiful.”
Historically, sculptures often were created to represent social and political upheaval. The most famous, David by Michelangelo, is from the biblical story of David, a young shepherd, who defeated a giant, Goliath, with a slingshot.
The 17-foot Italian masterpiece was almost three years in the making (1501-1504) and was carved by the 26-year-old artist out of a single piece of marble that weighed more than six tons.
Michelangelo’s interpretation of the David is different from earlier versions by Florentine Renaissance artists, who made the image a triumphant figure, standing victorious over Goliath’s severed head. Michelangelo chose to depict David before the battle: alert and ready for combat. The sculpture captures the essence of strength, defiance and hope in the face of overwhelming odds.
The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone contains a wealth of details, including the feelings Michelangelo put into the sculpture’s creation. Sometimes it reads like an Artist Statement, revealing the intensity and perfection of his process.
Michelangelo’s “David” (Shutterstock)
“He went to David’s face, carved it tenderly, with all the love and sympathy in his being: the strong, noble face of the youth, who would, in one more moment, make the leap into manhood. …
“The expression on David’s face must communicate that evil was vulnerable, even though it wore armor weighing a thousand pounds. There would always be some spot in it which was undefended; and if the good in man were dominant it would find that exposed area and evolve a way to penetrate it. The emotion must convey the idea that his conflict with Goliath was a parable of good and evil.”
In preliminary stages of sketching, Michelangelo agonized about David’s emotions after the conquest as well. “He wondered if David felt glory, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, perhaps a touch of contempt? All unworthy emotions, none of which he could bring himself to draw.
“He searched for the triumph that was worthy. Ultimately, it was David’s decision to free the Israelites that made him a giant, not his killing of Goliath. Michelangelo was not content to portray one man; he was seeking universal man, Everyman, all of whom from the beginning of time had faced a decision to strike for freedom. This was the David he had been seeking.”
These (and more) were the thoughts of the artist who made the marble come alive.
You can see David at the Galleria dell’Accademia de Firenze in Florence.
The Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History is a fabulous resource for storytelling and education. It offers voices of information and hope. Their mission is to “empower people to create a just and compassionate future by exploring, preserving and sharing the complexity of our past.”
Listen to their stories in 27 topics, including music, military, presidents, sports, clothing, communications, family and social life, food, government, health and medicine, philanthropy.
Storytelling can lead to respectful, creative activism — an exchange that eventually, in a civilized world, can result in finding commonality, resolution and peace.
My dove art, “Life, Liberty and Freedom,” now hangs in a local gallery exhibition. I’m grateful for the amazing life and poetry of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, whose creative resistance made it possible.
Phawnda Moore is a Northern California artist and award-winning author of Lettering from A to Z: 12 Styles & Awesome Projects for a Creative Life. In living a creative life, she shares spiritual insights from traveling, gardening and cooking. Find her on Facebook at Calligraphy & Design by Phawnda and Instagram at phawnda.moore