Below is a response I posted to David Clayton’s entry at the New Liturgical Movement, of which I was in general agreement (minor points notwithstanding).
Thank you for your thoughts, Mr. Clayton, and apologies for this long response. A portion of your topic reminds me so much of an email discussion I just had with some family members regarding the lack of inclusion of the visual arts (and natural arts!) in what many today feel to be a quintessential liberal or great books education. To paraphrase part of what I had written:
“The larger issue is the formation of the entire Imagination which is necessary for a living, vibrant Catholic culture, let alone a well-rounded individual human being. The very fact that it is simply not mentioned [in the article about what constitutes a well-rounded college education that was overly focused on dialectic or "scholastic" models, as you would say] says a lot to me about what is seen as important, and the type of individual writing the essay. One of the largest holes in great books programs is the (nearly ubiquitous) lack of study of the visual arts and the “natural arts”…forgetting that while we are rational creatures and should grapple with ideas, we orient ourselves in the world visually, but have never been trained how to see and be truly receptive to what we see (perhaps because we’re always trying to be on guard with our eyes, and the fact that we, as a society in general, no longer live an existence that is “close to the earth”!) Unfortunately, this is an enormous catastrophe for prayer life, because of its natural analog with real contemplation (as opposed to meditation). We’re no longer in a world where we can take for granted the general formation of individuals who have studied good music, art, poetry, architecture, and nature, and thus the formation of the imagination which is the ground of our reception and interpretation of reality, and hence truth. And truth will, generally, not be “believed” unless it comes in the form of Beauty….there has to be something attractive about it, and so at a fundamental level, teaching what to be attracted to, to discern beauty, is just as fundamental as teaching to discern the truth of ideas, because it serves to fundamentally orient how we situate ourselves and live in the world. All of this is not to belittle the search for Truth and the cultural battle we face in this regard, nor the books that [author] recommends, but just to point out the ubiquitous lack of talk about Beauty (natural and “artificial”) in such discussions about education, as if a proper education was circumscribed to a merely “rational” formation. I’m reminded of a quote by Balthasar here, though there are many I could choose from: “The witness borne by Being becomes untrustworthy for the person who can no longer read the language of beauty.”
So, in returning to my response, I can agree that “liturgy” is the source and summit of things, and yet there should be a mutual interdependency whereby both the natural and supernatural, i.e. profane beauty and sacred beauty, reinforce each other circumincessively. I do not think that there is any cause for true concern regarding the potential for the former to trump the latter if one understands the study of scripture as not merely the study of “text” or “literary style”, but in a prayerful and more Ignatian model of active receptivity in contemplation to the God who reveals himself and speaks to the individual heart in ever unique ways. Learning to “see and hear” properly in the natural world will only reinforce one’s receptivity liturgically (at least in my experience), though perhaps it will make one uncomfortable with “bad liturgy” (and perhaps that is a good thing?). I know this was not the entire focus of your essay, but at least one of the themes is, among other things, that you want to avoid aestheticism by a healthy dose of asceticism, which I agree with, but it can be shown that that is true in the sphere of the every-day as well as the liturgical (think of fasting). I suppose it also means that liturgical beauty is not entirely “natural” but also supernatural, and hence our ability to enter into the liturgy that may or may not be the most “naturally” beautiful is akin to having the ability to find God in all things, even if the more naturally beautiful can be the more obvious or “evidential” way…if the focus of the liturgy is the imitation of Christ, then there must involve a certain amount of “dying to self”, both actually and imitationally, even in the liturgical setting (not that this is an argument for intentional ugliness…)
Joel Pidel
Posting from an acquaintence without an account:
Dear Joel,
“I appreciate your comments here about the importance of developing “the entire Imagination” as you call it, and the lack of attention to this in college curricula, particularly those of the “great books” variety. It’s something I have been pondering for years, having gone to a great books school after deciding against a bachelor’s in music. (I have since gone on to earn two graduate degrees in music.) I am very much in sympathy with what you have to say. And yet -
I am of the conviction that the primary purpose of a college is the development of the minds – the intellectual life – of its students. In the pursuit of this aim, a good college will naturally strive to provide an environment in which the intellectual life can be nurtured, and this includes supporting the physical, moral, and spiritual life of its students – as well as the imaginative life, if you will. However, just as school does not “teach” moral virtue, nor directly provide spiritual direction to its students, neither does it “teach” the visual arts. This is not say that the visual arts have no place in the life of a college student, or that the college itself should provide no support in the development of the students knowledge and imagination in this area. I’m just not sure that it should be a formal part of the curriculum.
My own alma mater was a Catholic great books school which lacked any formal study of the visual arts. And I would say that there certainly was an attitude among some there that these arts – and the arts in general – were dismissed as secondary to “real” (i.e. philosophical) learning. I see this as a real issue, both as a artist (musician) myself, and as one vitally concerned with the transmission of Catholic culture, both in my own family and in the society at large.
At the same time, however, I see the opposite danger in another school of thought prevalent at some other Catholic colleges. There, the “rational” tradition of Catholic thought is dismissed (I don’t think this is too strong a word) in favor of a “poetic” or literary pursuit of the truth. Some even go so far as to say that this is the “true” or core Catholic tradition of learning.
I would maintain that neither of these approaches is the best way to proceed, yet I think the first is closer both to the Catholic tradition and to the nature of a college as such. A college is not meant to provide the complete formation of a young person, as desperately as some of these young people may stand in need of it.
And here is where we get to a problem you mentioned in the course of your essay above – that “We’re no longer in a world where we can take for granted the general formation of individuals who have studied good music, art, poetry, architecture, and nature, and thus the formation of the imagination which is the ground of our reception and interpretation of reality, and hence truth.”
I agree that an “education,” correctly understood, is not coterminous with intellectual or “rational” formation. Yet I think the more fundamental error is the notion that it is the job of a school or college to “provide” an “education.” This is something that my late father – an educator for over 50 years who founded two private Catholic secondary schools – had to grapple with constantly. In its most virulent form he saw parents who would drop off their children at his school expecting to see them again a few years – “educated.”
I also agree with you that the formation of the imagination is critical to our reception of the truth, and further, that this is not sufficiently recognized. I only question whether the college classroom is the proper place for this formation. Getting back to my father’s secondary schools, he did, in fact, provide required instruction in the visual arts, devoting entire classes to the study of drawing, painting, and architecture, classes which he taught himself. (There were also classes in music composition, history and appreciation, drama, choir all mandatory for every student.) Yet, crucially, this was on the secondary (high school) level. Here students are still live in the bosom of their families, and, akin to this, form with their families a community centered around the school. The school hosted the plays and concerts given by students, providing the larger context in which these arts could be properly cultivated, enjoyed and celebrated.
So these young people, at least, have a chance at forming their imaginations in the context of great and beautiful music, art, poetry, and even dance. Yet may father always saw the intellectual formation of his students as the core function of the school. As you can see, he did not limit this formation to strictly “rational” processes. But as the highest faculty in man, its role was to govern and sustain all of the others, to be the rudder of ones life and actions. Naturally this did not develop in a vacuum, but was sustained and nurtured by the life of the whole community of the school at large.
You may ask – but what about all the young people who have not been lucky enough to receive this kind of upbringing or who have no contact with this kind of community? I have no easy answers – only a caveat that the college not take on tasks foreign to its calling. I have heard that John Senior, the legendary Catholic educator, would introduce his (college) students to ballroom dancing and the night sky before they would open a single book in his class. He saw that the students coming to him lacked the minimum exposure to natural goodness – either as courtesy (the analogue of charity) or as wonder (leading to wisdom) – which he rightly saw as a prelude to an openness to truth. But surely this was a remedial measure, supplying something that should have been given in childhood and adolescence. I’m afraid of Catholic colleges being extensions of the students high school years, attempting providing remedial cultural formation in an environment (the classroom) that cannot truly receive it in this way. In the meantime, the core mission of the college is in danger of spreading itself too thin and the serious intellectual formation that is so crucial at this stage will be eviscerated.
My own alma mater, as I mentioned above, did not offer any instruction in the arts (with the exception of music). However, it should not be imagined that the campus was devoid of the arts. The arts – particularly music and drama – thrived in the community of the students and in the culture of families that surrounded the school. The campus of the school itself, not incidentally, is breathtaking in its beauty, both in its natural and man-made forms. In this way, the arts were integrated into the larger life of the school, and, one may hope, into the lives of the students themselves.”
- Sam S.