© Mark Mabry. Used with Permission. mabrystudios.typepad.com
On October 9, 2008, Robert Walsh’s article, Self-reflection inspired photographer’s images appeared in the Mormon Times section of the Deseret News. The article focused on the motivations and changes that led to the creations of Mark Mabry’s now well known “multimedia photo exhibit,” Reflections of Christ. The project featured photographic works of art depicting scenes from the Savior’s earthly ministry, presented with music and video elements. With the recent introduction of a second installment in the Reflections series, subtitled Another Testament, I thought it fitting to return to this article to discuss some of the issues it raises about spiritual and moral leadership in art.
Worldly Needs vs. Worldliness
According to Walsh, Mark Mabry had made a decent living doing commercial photography. Between weddings, family portraits, fashion shoots, and magazine spreads, his earthly comforts were well provided for, but Mabry was concerned about his spiritual life, particularly because of those jobs that “required him to portray less-than-wholesome subjects.” In fact, Mabry believed that accepting these jobs made him personally unfit for the kingdom. “If I’m shooting unworthy subjects, then I’m unworthy.”
While most LDS artists would agree that creating pornography or any other kind of lewd material is beneath their calling as children of God, the issue of what constitutes unworthy subjects remains personal and difficult. Mabry’s comments make it clear that he felt the Lord did not approve of his partaking of certain kinds of art, even in the name of education, or appreciating the works of his peers. The Lord also directed Mabry not to engage in the same kinds of work as his associates.
In his landmark speech, The Arts and the Spirit of the Lord, Elder Boyd K. Packer suggests that not all worldly projects are unworthy. “Often artists are not free to create what they most desire because the market demands other things of them.” Pursuing the support of our families by producing what the market will pay for is a worthy use of our talents, even if we cannot do it by focusing on spiritual art. But many LDS artists still have desires to express their faith through their art. This may be what led Mabry to begin his self evaluation.
Continuing Revelation
In the article, Mabry describes throwing out art books, deleting computer files, ceasing to consume energy drinks, and eliminating certain music, all as the result of continuing promptings that came as he followed his introspection about his spirituality and prayed for guidance. He describes these promptings as “a series.”
Perhaps the doctrine of line-upon-line revelation is among the most influential to LDS artists seeking to represent their faith, and it may be the reason why so many people I’ve had discussions with are interested in not just one faith-inspired work of art, but a (sometimes indefinitely) continuing succession. We simply are not satisfied with a single positive move. The LDS foci on eternal progression, singleness of purpose, and the unchanging nature of God’s (and therefore our ultimate) work may inspire us to seek artistic endeavors that can satisfy the eternal striving that churn within us.
Often the ideas for such projects, series or single, can come as a result of our following previous promptings related to personal spirituality. I believe that, just as no person can truly testify of Christ without the Spirit, no artist can represent Gospel truth without divine guidance, even – perhaps especially – if that representation is purely an expression of individual worship. As obedience to one piece of revelation opens us to further communications from God, we can be instructed in the creation of our art as closely as was Nephi in the building of his ship, which was “not after the manner of men” (1 Ne. 18:2). This includes, as it did with Nephi and Mabry, the original idea for the work we undertake. After getting rid of spiritually limiting influences, Mabry recalls receiving the following prompting: “You need to do the story of Christ.”
Reflections of Christ can be seen as a series in itself, as the exhibit includes many photographs, but the release of Reflections of Christ: Another Testament, which depicts the Savior’s visit to the Americas, more fully fits the phenomenon described above.
Keeping the Eye Single
As I mentioned above, Latter-day Saints believe in singleness of purpose in doing God’s work, and this belief extends to all aspects of life. Mabry describes a key moment at which he realized that he could not keep one eye on other goals while engaging the Reflections project. “If I’m going to succeed,” he said, “I need to forget about other ambitions.”
To what extent is this true for all artists seeking to produce spiritual work? Can we do as President Packer suggests, supplying the demands of the market, while seeking to worship God with our art? Mabry’s comments imply that his creations were a spiritual offering, requiring “my ears, my eyes, my heart, and my trust,” and including little or no thought of making money. But this very consideration cripples the attempts of many who would act similarly.
President Packer gives us hope. “What about when you are free?” he asks, implying that for us, as for Mabry, there will come a time when we are able to create what we truly desire. But does Mabry’s experience suggest that the timing of that moment is largely self-determined? Do we simply strive for personal worthiness, seek a revelation, and then back out of our worldly pursuits, trusting the Lord to sustain us? If we believe the accounts of Nephi, Alma the younger, the early Apostles, and others in the scriptures, the idea doesn’t sound so far-fetched.
However, Mabry makes it clear that he had not, as of the writing of Walsh’s article, completely closed the door to non-religious projects, but he had limited his interest in them. “I’ve covenanted that I won’t shoot commercial (projects) except clean stuff.” The usefulness of such a covenant and the extent to which it is implied in other vows members of the Church make is an issue that could bear further exploration.
Education and Guidance
The conflict between training in technique, theory, and practice and the guidance of the Spirit in creation is something a false dichotomy, but Mabry nonetheless says that “photo technique took a back seat to the Spirit.” Because even the most collaborative art forms rely so much upon individual, personal expression, every work is to an extent an uncharted territory, particularly if artists strive for continual improvement. There is always an element of the unknown in creating. Some have suggested that surrendering to this unknown – or giving up aspirations for control over the creative process – is the only way to fully tap into the vast potential of our divinely endowed creative power. It may be that a truly worthy offering of any kind can only be created in the space between human ability and godly perfection. The famous story of Elder Russell M. Nelson’s revolutionary heart procedure shows that even the most skilled cannot rely upon their skills for everything, but it also demonstrates that developing our skills to the greatest extent possible makes us more flexible instruments in the Lord’s hands.
Mabry was an accomplished photographer who had studied and practiced his art extensively. Yet, in depicting the Savior’s life, he relied more upon prayer than upon his training. “It’s as if (the Savior) were in my bedroom as I prayed” for guidance about shot selection and location, he said. Was this a special case, or should all artists seek this level of guidance in creating spiritual art?
Missionary Work and Art
© Mark Mabry. Used with Permission. mabrystudios.typepad.com
To me, one of the easiest pitfalls as an artist is to seek to influence others with my art. Latter-day Saints (and many Christians) are naturally invigorated by a missionary spirit and much art has been created with the intent of taking the Gospel message to the world by directly preaching it. I see this as a mistake in most non-institutional cases, because it reorients the art away from the artist’s relationship with God and towards his conversation with his or her audience. In other words, this kind of art can easily attempt to dictate what another person’s worship should look like, rather than reflecting the artist’s own worship. A reflection of personal worship can influence others, but that is not its intent. Indeed, the intent of such a work is not even to reflect the self, but to lose the self in worshipping God. I may want to influence others in the same way that Alma expressed by saying he desired to be an angel (which, incidentally, is a sin that Internet distribution can make easier I think), but I ought to be content to worship God for myself only, realizing that the most potent missionary work is accomplished through the power of example.
Mabry, I believe, was seeking to make his offering acceptable to the Lord, rather than trying to create God’s gift to the world of photography, and consequently, the missionary potential of his work is enhanced. Those who have seen Reflections of Christ associate the spirituality they feel while viewing the exhibit with Mabry and when they meet him, they discuss it. Walsh describes how this phenomenon has affected Mabry. “People kept stopping him on the street to talk about Christ, and he felt a responsibility to be a good example. The attention has made him feel uncomfortable at times, but it does give him a chance to talk about the church.” These chances began before the exhibit was complete, as Mabry responded to simple inquiries about his current project. In an increasingly connected world, working on spiritual projects gives us more opportunities to spread the gospel simply because more of our interactions require mentioning our faith.
Worthiness after the Fact
The initial Reflections of Christ was completed years ago, but it is still going strong. Mabry believes that just as the power of the exhibit to touch lives was born of his personal commitment to serving the Lord through his art, this power’s maintenance is dependent upon his own continuing personal worthiness. “If I become unfaithful, the power of the exhibit will be lost.”
I don’t know quite what to make of this comment. I believe that a work can be taken on its own terms. If the art was created as an expression of the artist’s individual feelings, it will be more likely to contain the human element that audiences relate to. But the physical nature of the art does not change, regardless of the subsequent spiritual standing of the artist. But Mabry clearly thinks that his own actions continue to affect the art he has already created. This reminds me of the following statement from scripture: “And now, verily I say unto you, I, the Lord, will not lay any sin to your charge; go your ways and sin no more; but unto that soul who sinneth shall the former sins return, saith the Lord your God” (D&C 82:7).
The implication of this is that spiritual art is an expression of not simply worship, but specifically of repentance, rendering the previous works of an artist returning to sin void in the eyes of the Lord. I can see that the Lord may not continue to bless the work of an artist whose life is no longer worthy, but a part – some would argue a majority or even all – of a work’s meaning comes from the elements that the audience brings to its experience with the art. Since “We believe that men will be punished for their own sins” (Articles of Faith 1:2), we cannot expect the Lord to refuse to speak to a person prepared to hear Him through the once-worthy art of even the wickedest of men.
From another perspective, though, Mabry’s comment has merit. If art is a form of worship, then, like all worship, it defines the worshipper more than the one worshipped. In other words, God is not made more omnipotent, holy, or merciful by the artist’s declaration that He is so. Nor is God seduced into loving man because of his worship. Rather, the act of worship elevates the worshipper, shaping him into God’s image. The artist becomes more spiritually powerful, acquires more fully the attributes of God, and develops a greater capacity for divine love through the worshipful creative act.
Such an artist benefits from his art in redemptive ways, but if he then turns to wickedness, this redemption will indeed be compromised. The power of his art to work goodness through its effects on him will be annulled to that extent to which he turns from the worshipful feelings that inspired it. As a friend said to me, “God permits us to work our hands in the creation of great art – not for the sake of great art, but so that in the end, we can become great artists!” Just like He is.
Concluding Thoughts
Mark Mabry’s experience in creating Reflections of Christ as described by Robert Walsh is instructive to artists who would have the spirit of the Lord influence their work, but many questions remain. Ultimately, no person can define a precise process for the worthy creation of spiritual art any more than one man’s personal revelation can be applied universally. This makes me think that the only useful formula to consider is the one Mabry describes: faith, prayer, commitment, worthiness, singleness of purpose, and trust.