It is far too easy to forget that we have such great museums in New York. One of them is the Guggenheim museum. On this day it was displaying the work of Alberto Burri, titled The Trauma of Painting. On this day, he became my teacher, and one painting became the lesson.
I wasn't expecting much from the display after the first few exhibits. But then I entered the Sacchi section, and was completely blindsided by one exhibit. I ended up staring at this one painting for the majority of my time at the museum. Even, after leaving the painting, I kept returning to look at it more, diving ever deeper into the movements on the canvas.
The museum described Sacchi below:
The particular painting that enraptured me was titled Sacco E Oro (Sack and Gold). Here is the museum description of this piece:
As I stared at the image I was struck by the voices of anger and shame screaming loudly, and then by the subtle whispers of vulnerability and dignity.
The black spaces, not captured well in the photo below, are not devoid of texture and movement. Instead, they are rough, shiny, dull, smooth, flowing and still all in different ways.
The sack sections are rough, overstitched, pulled tight giving an almost Frankenstein-like appearance of skin. The patch like quality led me to think of skin torn and broken, trying desperately to cover the darkness below, not dissimilar to the rags someone impoverished might wear to keep warm. They spoke of years of pain and wounds stitched up and woven together, but with rough scars remaining.
The red spoke powerfully of a fresh wound, bleeding through, a place of acute pain and anger. Tiny in comparison to the whole painting, but placed in perfect counterpoint to the gold.
The gold spoke of a glorious past, one filled with dignity and prosperity. It spoke of a past longed for again, but probably never to be experienced.
Together, the painting spoke of a rich heritage, a hard life filled with damage and heartache, but still with hope. It spoke of an old man or woman, standing with dignity and claiming great power long since lost, in a body carrying the scars of a tough life. It depicts the many pictures we see of victims of trauma, holding themselves together with what they can, even as they bleed out for all to see.
I am well aware that art reflects the artist and the observer equally. And so I am aware that I saw myself within this painting, even as I saw the post war Europe of Burri's painting.
Those words from the original description of Sacchi stuck with me in this picture - evincing anger and shame, but also vulnerability and dignity. I cannot think of a better description of what life actually is like, and what becoming like Jesus in this world looks like too.
There is anger and shame as we encounter those parts of ourselves and others that are hideous or hurtful. There is vulnerability as we expose ourselves and receive the baring of others into our lives. I don't believe we can actually be truly vulnerable without at least the opportunity for anger, shame and hurt to be felt. In fact, I think those things WILL happen when we are vulnerable.
What I love most about this panting of Burri's is that it isn't beautiful in the classic sense of the word. It is rough, dirty, and hard.That is what life truly is like...rough, dirty and hard. That is what being a Christian really is...rough, dirty and hard. That is what Jesus was...rough, dirty and hard. But it doesn't stay there...because there's that gold piece, speaking of a long lost past, but pointing forward to a hoped for future. It is in the essence of vulnerability that our hope is found.
It is in the working out of that vulnerability...in the receiving and sharing of those wounds of our lives that we find dignity. I don't think Jesus was ever more dignified than when we was stripped bare, and with blood and sweat and tears be bore the anger and shame of my own brokenness. His vulnerability brought me dignity. His vulnerability brought you dignity. He invites us to share our vulnerability with each other so that together dignity might be experienced for everyone.
That's what I see...tell me...what do you see?
