Intimations of Spirit

T. M. Moore

Reflections on Spiritual Realities in the Art of Andrew Wyeth

“He has also set eternity in their heart.” —Ecclesiastes 3:111

Prior to this century and the fascination with flatness, the challenge to Western artists, at least since the Renaissance, has been to depict with the greatest possible skill three-dimensional reality on a surface of only two dimensions. At least as great a challenge to many of these same artists has been that of representing a fourth dimension, spiritual reality, in strictly material terms. Typically, this has been accomplished through the depiction of familiar characters and stories and the use of particular symbols, mostly derived from biblical sources.

In many ways, depictions of the spiritual in Western art provide a record of the state of religion from one epoch to the next. Medieval iconography, with its flat and unimpassioned portraits, gave way to paintings designed to represent the more human side of Christ and the saints, as scholastic theology and culture came under the influence of the humanistic ideals of the Renaissance. Emphasis on the lives and deeds of the saints was enlarged, during the baroque period, by depictions of everyday events in the life of Christ and his disciples. Romantic deifications of nature and the self mirrored the shift of Enlightenment thinking away from heavenly realities to the worship of secular ideals, reflecting the decline of traditional religion in the nineteenth century. In the modern period, with a few exceptions (Kandinsky comes to mind2), interest in spiritual matters as anything other than merely subjective experience has all but disappeared, replaced by a fascination with art qua art, a development that Jacques Barzun has decried as the making of a religion of art, a spiritual domain in its own right.3

Modern and postmodern artists, for the most part, have chosen not to treat spirituality as an objective reality. Given, however, the abundant evidence of a high degree of interest and belief in objective spiritual reality on the part of the vast majority of Americans—what Peter L. Berger calls “the massive fact of American religiosity”—this may not reflect what those artists actually feel.4 At any rate, it certainly does not reflect the views of most of the people in our society. Contemporary artists have simply chosen not to explore the realm of spiritual realities, however profound or shallow their interest in this subject may be, through their art.

One notable exception is Andrew Wyeth, who celebrated his ninetieth birthday in July of this year, and who is, I am assured, still going strong. Because of his realist approach to abstraction, Wyeth is an anomaly among modern artists;5 yet he is perhaps America’s best known and most beloved contemporary artist. While he does not appear to be a religious man, and while one could hardly say that spiritual themes are a major motif in the tapestry of his work, still, there are enough evocations of the spiritual world in his oeuvre—intimations of spirit, if you will—to warrant examination. Wyeth appeals to the spiritual sensitivities of viewers. Ken Wilber, reflecting on Wyeth’s art, writes,

Wyeth can take your breath away. And whatever we mean by the word “spirit”—let us just say, with Paul Tillich, that it involves for each of us our ultimate concern—it is in that simple awestruck moment, when great art enters you and changes you, that spirit shines in this world just a little more brightly than it did the moment before.6

As Shuji Takahashi has noted, Andrew Wyeth evidences “an inclination toward the spiritual and a sense of the religious.”7 His work treats spirituality as more than a merely subjective experience. He suggests that there is something “out there,” and it may well be that this is one of the aspects of Wyeth’s work that is most appealing to his many admirers.8

I want to explore that “inclination” by considering expressions of interest in spiritual realities as they are revealed in various aspects of the work of Andrew Wyeth. We will see that, while Wyeth proposes no certain conclusions about the nature of spiritual reality, yet he shows himself to be keenly aware of its existence beyond the merely subjective, respectful of its potential, and hopeful as to its prospect. I hope to show that his reflections on such realities offer a variety of challenges to us.

References to the Spiritual

Generally speaking, interest in spiritual realities finds expression in three ways in the work of Andrew Wyeth.

First are the numerous images of churches, not many different churches, but various images of the same churches spread out over many years of the artist’s career. These include the small octagonal building in Chadds Ford, which is celebrated as Mother Archie’s church in many paintings, as well as the Finnish Congregational Church in Cushing, the church in Port Clyde, and the church at Wylie’s Corner in St. George, all in Maine. Wyeth uses the various images of these churches to express admiration for the people who worship in these communities—the simple beauty and enduring strength of their faith, their integrity and grit—or to register his feelings concerning mortality and immortality. These paintings indicate the artist’s awareness of and respect for spiritual realities, at least insofar as they are a source of strength and character in people he admires.

A second category consists of paintings that are meant to suggest the existence of spiritual realities through the depiction of ordinary things. In this group we include “Pentecost” (1989), which shows fishermen’s nets being gently lifted and extended by the wind on Allen Island in Maine. Concerning this painting Wyeth has said, “I felt the spirit of something when I did it, and I believe I managed to communicate that spirit.”9 For Wyeth the nets represented the spirit of a young woman who had recently drowned nearby,10 their buoyancy suggesting the reality and vitality of spiritual existence.

Another painting in this category is “Slight Breeze” (1968). In this painting of the Woodward farm in Chadds Ford, a breeze has caught an item of clothing on the line and is lifting it, while the dinner bell on its twin stilts leans into the breeze as if in determined resistance. Wyeth was reminded of his daughter-in-law, Phyllis, on her crutches, and wrote, “I wanted it to be spiritual and I think it is.”11

“Chambered Nautilus” (1956), a painting of Mrs. Wyeth’s mother, also falls into this category. The painting has an ethereal, almost other-worldly aspect about it. It shows Mrs. James, in her later years, seated in her bed, her Bible and other precious objects nearby, a breeze gently swirling the bed curtains around her. Wyeth recalled, “When she died, the curtains rose into the air suddenly and I thought, Ah, there’s her spirit lifting out the door.”12 These paintings reveal a sense of the reality and the vitality of the spiritual realm, as well as a certain hopefulness concerning it together with an appreciation of its role in molding the character of Wyeth’s subjects.

The final category of paintings that reveal Wyeth’s spiritual sensitivity are those in which the artist is confronted with death or its prospect. Among these are “Burial at Archie’s” (1933), “Evening at Kuerner’s” (1970), “Marriage” (1993), “Bonfire” (1993), and “Christmas Morning” (1944). In each of these, death is greeted, not with horror and doubt, but with dignity, wonder, and hope.

In “Marriage,” for example, a couple (Wyeth’s friends, the Sipalas) sleeps serenely near an open window in the brightness of day. Wyeth imagines them peacefully passing out the window into death and beyond.13 Death in Wyeth’s paintings is itself typically represented in white, not as, in so many other artists, the black of gloom. In “Evening at Kuerner’s” (1970), for example, the bright white light of the front room window represents, as Wyeth reports, both Karl Kuerner’s “flickering soul” and the hope of spring.14 Death is not an end but only in some ways a transmutation, a crossing over, a new beginning. As Andrew Wyeth sees it, death, inevitable as it is, need not be feared by those who have lived noble and dignified lives, whatever their social status may have been.

Thus, in at least three ways Andrew Wyeth takes up the subject of spiritual realities in his work. One comes away from these paintings with the distinct impression that the artist accepts, at least at some level, the reality of the spirit world; that he has great respect and even admiration for its ennobling potential; and that he holds out hope that our inevitable transition to that world will take us to a place of well-deserved rest.

‘Christmas Morning’

This remarkable painting brings together all the aspects of Andrew Wyeth’s spiritual sensitivity better, I believe, than any other of his works. Quite different from the rest of Wyeth’s paintings, “Christmas Morning” is surreal in tone. Something more than merely natural is happening here. Indeed, it is a supernatural event that is recorded, the passage of a soul from this world to the next.

Wyeth’s long-time friend, Mrs. Sanderson, is lying on her death bed. It is Christmas morning. She is garbed all in white, her head swaddled in a turban symbolic of one who is prepared to die. Our perspective is from behind and to the left of the subject, who reclines, out of doors, and elevated to the spectator’s level. This perspective helps us to identify with the subject, giving us the impression that her fate is no doubt one we will share as well. We look down the length of her bed, which is bathed in white against the cold, silvery blue of the early morning. The foot of her bed dissolves into a ridge of earth, which curves away from the dying figure and arches, left to right, toward the center of the picture, where it stops as the landscape dips downward into a hidden valley. The sky is empty except for one star which, above and to the right of the subject, burns brightly like the star of Bethlehem. The line demarcated by Mrs. Sanderson, her bed clothes, and the curving ridge of earth, points directly across the valley and beyond the horizon to this one brilliant star. The artist seems to envision his friend passing from life to earth, then across some unknown abyss into a glorious new reality, the promise of Christmas morning. It is a painting filled with triumph and hope, of life rediscovered in some new realm where rest and glory await those who prepare for it well.

Implication and Challenges

One primary implication and a series of challenges arise out of this brief examination of Andrew Wyeth’s intimations of spirit. The implication seems to be that awareness of and interest in spiritual realities is inevitable, even in our much-vaunted secular age. There is no reason to deny or suppress this awareness, even though we may not be able to reach any definite conclusions about this realm. In this Wyeth shows us neither more nor less than the most current sociological research.15 As Solomon observed concerning his own generation, men appear to have “eternity in their hearts” (Ecclesiastes 3:11) and can be moved to contemplate the unseen world around them by the most ordinary of events or things. Even though most contemporary artists plough their furrows seemingly oblivious (at least indifferent) to the world of spiritual realities, Andrew Wyeth encourages us to believe that we have nothing to fear in confronting our awareness of that domain openly and honestly. Indeed, his art suggests that we can do so with much benefit to ourselves and others. There is a world of the spirit, he seems to say; it can be a source of great strength of character, and it may well hold out hope for our eternal wellbeing.

From this implication four challenges arise. The first is to the community of contemporary artists. Andrew Wyeth has attracted a vast following for his work and has legions of admirers. This can be seen from the widespread popularity of reproductions of his work, the overwhelming success of his every exhibition, the throngs of all ages who regularly visit the third floor gallery of the Brandywine River Museum in Chadds Ford, and the success of his new museum in Cushing, Maine. He is indeed “America’s Painter.”

It may well be, as Shuji Takahashi has suggested, that one reason this is so is that people are drawn to the intimations of spirit they detect in his work. They sense the same things. They can see in his images reflections of their own deepest wonderings, their most profound hopes and dreams. I confess to this being true of myself. And, whereas I may find an undertaking by Christo impressive, or I may experience a mesmerizing effect in front of a Pollock canvas, or give a bemused nod to a Warhol exhibit, I do not find in these or most other contemporary artists any challenge to contemplate the world of spiritual realities around me that seems ever to beckon. Andrew Wyeth, however, gives me such “awestruck moments,” and I am continually drawn to him, at least in part, for this reason. The community of contemporary artists might serve themselves, the public, and art itself by a more consistent and compelling—and, shall I say, courageous?—consideration of these matters.

The second challenge is to the audience for contemporary art. To them the message is practically the same: let your own spiritual interests begin to emerge. Don’t suppress them; rather, explore them fully. Think about their meaning for you, what they suggest, promise, or signify. Art has always been a powerful vehicle for helping people to identify and clarify their spiritual convictions. There is no reason why that need not continue to be so today. Andrew Wyeth’s art can be a useful starting point for such explorations.

The third challenge posed by Wyeth’s interest in spiritual realities is to the myth of secularism that has been imposed on our society at the end of the twentieth century. The apologists of the scientific/technical worldview may proclaim the belief that “the cosmos is all there is, or was, or ever will be,”16 but the vast majority of people know this isn’t so. Andrew Wyeth’s intimations of spirit confirm and strengthen their own most profound inclinations. While he himself offers no firm conclusions concerning the nature or purpose of this realm, still the fact that he does not deny but, rather, seems very much to appreciate spiritual realities is an encouragement to those who shudder at the thought of a cold, impersonal, and mechanistic universe, wholly subject to nothing more than chance and time.

Finally, Wyeth’s treatment of spiritual realities offers a challenge to the spiritual community in general. We who hold firm convictions about the importance of this realm, but who are, more often than not, reluctant to discuss those convictions with others, should be encouraged by Wyeth’s work, as well as his popularity, to see that our views are not as anachronistic as we are told, and that there are a great many people whose interest in such matters has not been washed out by the propagandists of secularism. In spite of the devastating effects of technology on the quality of religious dialogue in our society,17 we should yet expect that there will be no shortage of people ready and eager to discuss these matters that are so important to us.

For the better part of his ninety years, Andrew Wyeth has kept alive an important part of the tradition of Western art. Whereas the vast majority of contemporary artists have chosen to ignore spiritual subjects and realities in their art, Wyeth has openly expressed his own sentiments about these matters. His art—and his many admirers—are richer as a result.  

T. M. Moore is Dean of the Centurions Program of the Wilberforce Forum and Principal of The Fellowship of Ailbe, a spiritual fellowship in the Celtic Christian tradition. He is the author or editor of twenty books and has contributed chapters to four others. His essays, reviews, articles, papers, and poetry have appeared in dozens of national and international journals, and on a wide range of websites. His most recent books are Culture Matters, The Ailbe Psalter, and The Ground for Christian Ethics (available at www.lulu.com/waxedtablet). He and his wife and editor, Susie, make their home in Concord, Tennessee.

2 Responses (comments are closed) • Features, Arts and Culture, Environment and Creation, Spiritual Growth, Mon 29 Oct 2007