The Soul of the Art

Communion: What exactly does it mean when we say Christ's body is the bread and his blood is the wine?
Source: http://wp.production.patheos.com/blogs/teachingnonviolentatonement/files/2015/04/eucharist.jpg

*Note: Please forgive me if this post is a bit disjointed, I haven't been feeling very well recently, and my head is still a bit muddled.

Transubstantiation is a big topic, and its meaning has been argued about for centuries in the church. Traditionally, transubstantiation refers to the way in which Christ's body and blood become, in a literal sense, the bread and wine of the eucharist. For many years, Christians fought over whether Christ made a real change to the bread and wine, or whether the act was symbolic in nature. The Catholic church sought to solidify these ideas through the Council of Trent, but different denominations of Christianity still hold varying opinions on how to define the Eucharist (McGrath, 194-195).

The Council of Trent Meeting
Artist Unknown
Source: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/ca/Council_of_Trent.JPG

This definition can become even more tricky if one wishes to apply it to art, as David Jones does when he is discussed in the book Grace and Necessity: Reflections on Art and Love. Essentially, Jones argues that, just as the spirit of Christ enters into the Eucharist, the spirit of whatever a work of art seeks to capture moves into the work and becomes a part of the piece. Rowan Williams, the author of Grace and Necessity, describes Jones' philosophy, saying, "Something like the whole active presence of the object is being re-presented by the artist... Jones would have taken perfectly seriously the philosophical and theological sense of participation between reality and representation that we have seen at work in Maritain... (Williams, 62)" There is something greater in the piece than just its physical form.

While I don't think transubstantiation in the traditional sense is what happens when one creates art, I do agree that works of art obtain a certain spiritual nature. Not necessarily from the object one depicts, as there are many times in abstract art where there is no object depicted at all, but from the artist's creative act, as well as the connections made by the viewer and the physical presence of the work itself.

A good example can be found in the work of Portland artist Alison O'Donoghue.

Why Me Why You
Alison O'Donoghue
Source: http://www.aliorange.com/largeandlarger.html

The way that O'Donoghue weaves multiple characters and stories into her paintings gives them a sense of activity reaching beyond what the observer is able to see, and even describes the characters as "glowing with life" on her website (O'Donoghue). The vine-like shapes and the way that the creatures weave together like a loose fabric makes the work seem to dance and squirm under one's gaze. When looking closer, one can find the individual lives and stories of each character, an activity the being engages in regardless of whether anyone pays attention. There is a sense of spirit in each character, and in the painting as a whole. Even if the painting were never to be viewed, there is still the feeling that the painting would live on, the characters would keep going about their lives without the validation given by someone viewing a work. Each work by O'Donoghue has its own resonance, an intrinsic value that is strengthened by her creativity and the observer's interaction, but also exists outside of the human element. Simply by being an object brought into existence by a creative force, art has a sense of presence. It might not be a literal spirit or being, as in the case of transubstantiation, but it is a sacred and real energy. 

Sources:

O'Donoghue, Alison. Alison. http://www.aliorange.com/alison.html. 2011. Web.

Williams, Rowan. Grace and Necessity: Reflections on Art and Love. London: Continuum International Publishing Group, 2005. Print.
McGrath, Alister E. Christian History: An Introduction. West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons, 2013. Print.