book reviews 247
Aaron Rosen
Art and Religion in the 21st Century. London: Thames and Hudson, 2015. Pp. 256 +
247 illustrations. $ 60.00 cloth.
Art and Religion of the 21st Century looks broadly at artists’ use of religious
and spiritual ideas. Aaron Rosen, Lecturer in Sacred Traditions and the Arts at
Kings College London, selected examples of contemporary art from all over the
world made by artists of diverse national, ethnic, and religious backgrounds.
The book is organized thematically taking such topics as Genesis, the sublime,
cross-cultural motifs, and ritual, as lenses through which artworks can be
interpreted. The strength of the book comes from the breadth of examples
that include installation, performance, public art, video, and more traditional
artistic mediums such as sculpture and photography. While reading the book, I
had the distinct impression that I was reading a catalog that would accompany
the world’s largest exhibition of art magically forgoing the limitations of time
and space. For example, Paul Cummins and Tom Piper’s dramatic Blood Swept
Lands and Seas of Red, the unmistakable field of ceramic poppies that spilled
forth from the walls of the Tower of London to honor fallen World War i soldiers,
would appear just a short walk from Michael Arad and Peter Walker’s minimal
voids, Reflecting Absence: National 11 September Memorial, in New York City.
Given the breadth of the subject—how artists use, express, interrogate, or
critique religion in art—there are few alternatives. Rosen aims to cover a lot
of ground and does so at a fast pace.
Not too surprising, the book opens with controversy. “Despite this rich his-
tory of mutual engagement, however,” Rosen writes, “religion and modern art
continue to be typecast as mortal enemies. Misperceptions are particularly
rampant when it comes to contemporary art. To judge simply by the head-
lines, it would seem that art and religion are headed for an apocalyptic show-
down.” A quick litany of artworks that support that claim is then provided
including Piss Christ by Andres Serrano in which the artist photographed a
small figurine immersed in urine, and La Nona Ora (The Ninth Hour) by Mau-
rizio Cattelan, a lifelike and life-sized sculpture of Pope John Paul ii having
been struck by a meteorite. These examples support a view held by some
that artists are always critical of, indeed actively antagonistic toward, reli-
gion.
Starting out with a splash is an effective strategy to pull in the reader, and
yet Rosen is interested to show that art and religion are not always enemies.
As he writes, “The notion of contemporary artists as godless marauders on
a quest to offend is compelling stuff. Scintillating as it may be, however, it
tells only a small part of the story. Contemporary art is far more than just
© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2016 | doi: 10.1163/15685292-02001015
248 book reviews
a cluster of conflagrations …” With that introduction, Rosen turns to other
matters including the sublime.
The sublime, a topic well trodden by art historian Robert Rosenblum, plays
a large role in Rosen’s book. It occupies an entire chapter, but also informs
other themes such as the divine, memory, and loss. Rosen gives a brief history
of the term mentioning its use by Longinus in the classical period and then
picks up Edmund Burke’s reference in 1757 when he describes “terror” as the
“common stock of everything that is sublime.” From there, Rosen advances
to the nineteenth century with J. M. W. Turner’s seascapes and finally ends
with Immanuel Kant’s definition of a “dynamic” sublime. “Kant cites a host of
natural examples that stimulate the dynamical sublime, such as stormy seas,
cliffs, mountains, and lightning, in addition to man-made marvels such as the
Egyptian pyramids and St. Peter’s Basilica.” Rosen then relates the sublime
to various contemporary artworks and writes, “It is precisely this triumph of
reason that Angus Massey seems to celebrate in Contemplating the Sublime
(2011). Yet there are also hints of the Kantian sublime in Olafur Eliasson’s and
Leandro Erlich’s mirrored creations.”
This observation is an example of how Rosen often introduces works of art.
From the text the reader is invited to turn to the images that are accompanied
by additional descriptions. One image shows Leandro Erlich’s work, a building
façade lying on the ground. Over the façade the artist placed a gigantic mirror
at a forty-five degree angle. Viewers can sit or lie on the prone building to
look up at the mirror and see themselves climbing the walls like a spider,
sitting precariously on window ledges, and performing other amusing tricks.
The artist says, “I think illusion here acts as a trigger, seducing the viewer to
participate in the experience while questioning their understanding of reality.”
Seduction is not quite the same thing as horror, if indeed this work is sublime,
yet the experience the viewer has is quite curious. Closer to Rosen’s historical
outline of the sublime is Olafur Eliasson’s “The Weather Project” (2003–2004)
in which lighting, a large orb, and haze machines created the effect of a blazing
sunset on the inside of the Tate in London. This work does the unthinkable; it
contains nature. Often Rosen introduces his ideas well but then glosses over
the connection between the theme and specific examples. The reader must
complete the task and forge the relationship between Rosen’s analysis and what
is shown in the pictures.
Rosen’s writing is strongest when he speaks to specific religious or cultural
questions. Introducing a conceptual sculpture he write, “While there is no
shortage of works that treat the Second Coming—often drawing upon the
apocalyptic imagery of the Book of Revelation—one of the most profound is
David Shrigley’s beguilingly simple sculpture, The Bell (2007). Alongside an
Religion and the Arts 20 (2016) 231–249
