Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Art and Islam (or broken circles)


The divine is a Being whose centre is everywhere, and circumference nowhere.
---Nicolas of Cusa

Islamic art is the silent exteriorization of a contemplative state and...reflects no ideas, but transforms the surroundings qualitatively, by having them share in an equilibrium whose centre of gravity is the unseen...

Aniconism, by precluding every image inviting man to fix his mind on something outside himself and to project his soul on an 'individualizing' form, creates a void.The proliferation of decoration does not contradict this quality of contemplative emptiness; on the contrary, ornamentation with abstract forms enhances it through its unbroken rhthym and its endless interweaving.Instead of ensnaring the mind and leading it into some imaginary world, it dissolves mental 'fixations,' just as contemplation of a running stream, a flame,or leaves quivering in the wind, can detach consciousness from its inward 'idols'.
---Titus Burckhardt.

There are two ways of thinking about the relation between Islam (or religion in general) and art that are quite unsettling. The first view, often propounded by fundamentalists, 'levellers' and iconoclasts, claims that 'pure' Islam actually has nothing to do with art or the the arts. According to this dry, legalistic, puritanical view art is a distraction and, even worse, a grave error since it attempts to take away from God's unique creativity and tarnishes His utter and complete transcendence (I think the Pope alluded to this by pointing to the unfathomable essence of God (or God's apparently arbitrary Will), and the lack of relation with the world (cp. the logos).

A second, somewhat overlapping view, is sometimes made by art historians. What is suggested here is that a desert, nomadic religion is at key points at odds with the aims and driving impulses of Art (yes, with an "A"). Of course, I don't think this can completely be dismissed (though it does miss the mark), but neither can one totally ignore the bad faith and mutual hostilities between the 'civilisations' (historically speaking) that often form the backdrop to such views. If Islam produced any worthwhile art, anything beyond the minor arts of calligraphy and decoration, it was, according to this view, only grudgingly, against its "real" tendencies and better instincts. More to the point, the historical argument continues, to the extent that it did produce wonderful art, this was a borrowing from other civilisations (Byzantine) and urban centres (Hagarism). The fundamental underlying sentiment remains, it is claimed, that of a sober, puritanical disdain for complexity, ambiguity, and the unnecessary (see Iris M's brilliant The Fire and the Sun).

1. It is very odd, very odd indeed, that a religion which allegedly focuses on a rigorous transcendence, on simplicity and austerity, could be so deeply connected to poetry, architecture, handicrafts, and music. One can, of course, take Gellner's way out and claim that the 'high church' indeed represents the orthodox view whilst the 'low church' of folk culture, syncretism and heterodoxy (shi'ism) makes concessions and allows worldliness and representation to sneak back in. But, as Peter Brown says in The Cult of the Saints, such terms are often loaded and the distinctions erroneous.

In fact, it would be truly amazing if religion didn't touch on and vivify what we take to be so central to our humanity. And any muslim would immediately ask: how can there be jalal without jamal?

2. The historical argument is a weak one. I mean, it's fairly well recognized that early Christian art, for example, took on a particular form and that it took time for art to catch up and adequately express the truths it felt important. There's nothing surpising in that, or the fact that there can be borrowed elements. The Crucifixion, for instance, was not central intitially, and even when it has been it has been so in different ways (from Christ Triumphans to the Suffering Christ in the 'West'-and that too very late: Assissi?)



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