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Good Taste, Bad Taste, and Christian Taste: Aesthetics in Religious Life
Christians frequently come into conflict with themselves and others over such matters as music, popular culture, and worship style. Yet they usually lack any theology of art or taste adequate to deal with aesthetic disputes. In this provocative book, Frank Burch Brown offers a constructive, "ecumenical" approach to artistic taste and aesthetic judgment--a non-elitist but discriminating theological aesthetics that has "teeth but no fangs."
While grounded in history and theory, this book takes up such practical questions How can one religious community accommodate a variety of artistic tastes? What good or harm can be done by importing music that is worldly in origin into a house of worship? How can the exercise of taste in the making of art be a viable (and sometimes advanced) spiritual discipline? In exploring the complex relation between taste, religious imagination, and faith, Brown offers a new perspective on what it means to be spiritual, religious, and indeed Christian.
While grounded in history and theory, this book takes up such practical questions How can one religious community accommodate a variety of artistic tastes? What good or harm can be done by importing music that is worldly in origin into a house of worship? How can the exercise of taste in the making of art be a viable (and sometimes advanced) spiritual discipline? In exploring the complex relation between taste, religious imagination, and faith, Brown offers a new perspective on what it means to be spiritual, religious, and indeed Christian.
336 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2000
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March 29, 2015
Aesthetics is the study of beauty, particularly as it pertains to art. Christianity has inspired some of the greatest works of art, such as Eastern Orthodox iconography, Matthias Grünewald's "Crucifixion" and the musical compositions of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Grünewald's "Crucifixion" and Mozart's music being favourites of theologian Karl Barth). But Christianity has also inspired the odd and the kitschy - Leonard Knight's Salvation Mountain, Warner Sallman’s “Head of Christ,” Thomas Kinkade’s sentimental, snow-smothered cottages, and dc Talk’s “I Luv Rap Music.” Often art and popular culture are seen as diametrically opposed camps, the former being home to sophisticated, educated elitists while the latter indulges itself in mindless and shallow entertainment (the author relates the prejudice against pop culture on p. 15-16 and a good discussion of kitsch on p. 146-47). Although a celebrated composer and scholar, I found Frank Burch Brown’s tone through Good Taste, Bad Taste, and Christian Taste: Aesthetics in Religious Life to be respectful and courteous as he sought to champion a case for a principled “ecumenical” taste which recognizes and appreciates “certain aesthetic and religious differences without regarding them as inevitably and permanently alienating,” which strives “to learn to discern, as an act of love, what others find delightful and meaningful in art that has little appeal to oneself or one’s group,” and which recognizes that “spiritual growth can have a properly artistic and aesthetic dimension subject to criticism, cultivation, and education” (indeed, Brown suggests that taste could be considered as a type of spiritual gift or discipline, p. 12, 24). This also involves perceiving, enjoying, and judging (p. 13) and Brown distills the difference between judgment and enjoyment (p. 19-21). He also highlights four different types of “aesthetic transcendence” which are: negative, radical, proximate, and immanent (p. 120-21).
Brown astutely cautions that “At one level taste has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with art or beauty that asks to be enjoyed simply in itself. At levels of increasing complexity, however, the artistry itself has a great deal to do with morality and religion. Taste must then assume a corresponding complexity, with a moral and religious dimension that is part of the aesthetic” (xii). This is often a dilemma for Christians, who obsessively strive to avoid anything that might compromise the morality of their work while often producing work that is shallow itself (see virtually any evangelical film). On the other hand, much of mainstream culture relishes in tearing down taboos and this is often accomplished in a deft and creative way.
Art unites and divides and we often feel as if those who share a mutual appreciation for a particular piece of art or artist have a window into our inner lives (p. 10). Quite recently I watched a “so bad it’s good” movie, Tommy Wiseau’s “The Room,” with some church friends who clearly did not enjoy watching it (but their commitment to watch the whole movie with me because they knew I enjoy it is itself an act of love) and I was disappointed we couldn’t share in a quirky delight of “The Room.” However, I have also seen “The Room” several times in packed theatres where excited fans chant lines together with the characters on screen and with one another. To be willing to be exposed to art that one may personally not find appealing can be an opportunity for growing a friendship because we condescend for the sake of the other, knowing that the other partakes in pleasure at the piece. Brown elaborates that there is “the possibility that loving something artistic can be an integral part of loving human beings themselves” (p. 116). He further states “because the love and enjoyment of other human beings in both enhanced and interpreted through art, it is partly by appreciating what others have made artistically that we can love one another. By the same token, disgust with the art loved by certain other people and groups can present a major obstacle to loving them” (p. 116). Brown then suggests that this can even be transferred to a divine-human relationship as human beings marvel with God at what He has created and bless Him for it (p. 118).
The Christian Church has traditionally favoured music that does not excite the passions but that is restrained and intellectually satisfying (p. 39). Brown avers from the idea that we should simply blend as many styles together as possible (p. 197). Even though we may prefer one style of worship over another, part of our journey towards spiritual maturity is learning to appreciate our neighbours’ tastes, recognizing that every person has a unique context and way of approaching God (p. 198). I appreciate Brown’s global mindset as he often brings non-Western cultures such as the Chinese and Eastern religion, particularly Hinduism, into the discussion. This is helpful as I believe some champions of Western civilization do not know how to sufficiently appreciate what are in many ways still exotic artistic expressions (what has Arvo Pärt to do with Ladysmith Black Mambazo and Aradhna?).
The (typically evangelical) drive to accessibility has often resulted in a neglect of “high art” among (evangelical) Christians. Brown submits that this may be due to the unique Protestant emphasis on “grace alone” that can result in a neglect of sanctification (more apparent among Reformed Christianity rather than Methodist and Holiness streams, p. 252-53); in a way, sanctification is like the cultivation of taste since in both one is working towards a goal, either towards greater holiness or towards a proper appreciation for art. In the end, Brown helpfully summarizes twelve key assumptions/premises of mature and ecumenical Christian taste (p. 250-51). All in all a thoughtful, courteous , and challenging book on how Christians can cultivate a better sense of taste while loving others through appreciating their neighbours’ tastes.
Brown astutely cautions that “At one level taste has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with art or beauty that asks to be enjoyed simply in itself. At levels of increasing complexity, however, the artistry itself has a great deal to do with morality and religion. Taste must then assume a corresponding complexity, with a moral and religious dimension that is part of the aesthetic” (xii). This is often a dilemma for Christians, who obsessively strive to avoid anything that might compromise the morality of their work while often producing work that is shallow itself (see virtually any evangelical film). On the other hand, much of mainstream culture relishes in tearing down taboos and this is often accomplished in a deft and creative way.
Art unites and divides and we often feel as if those who share a mutual appreciation for a particular piece of art or artist have a window into our inner lives (p. 10). Quite recently I watched a “so bad it’s good” movie, Tommy Wiseau’s “The Room,” with some church friends who clearly did not enjoy watching it (but their commitment to watch the whole movie with me because they knew I enjoy it is itself an act of love) and I was disappointed we couldn’t share in a quirky delight of “The Room.” However, I have also seen “The Room” several times in packed theatres where excited fans chant lines together with the characters on screen and with one another. To be willing to be exposed to art that one may personally not find appealing can be an opportunity for growing a friendship because we condescend for the sake of the other, knowing that the other partakes in pleasure at the piece. Brown elaborates that there is “the possibility that loving something artistic can be an integral part of loving human beings themselves” (p. 116). He further states “because the love and enjoyment of other human beings in both enhanced and interpreted through art, it is partly by appreciating what others have made artistically that we can love one another. By the same token, disgust with the art loved by certain other people and groups can present a major obstacle to loving them” (p. 116). Brown then suggests that this can even be transferred to a divine-human relationship as human beings marvel with God at what He has created and bless Him for it (p. 118).
The Christian Church has traditionally favoured music that does not excite the passions but that is restrained and intellectually satisfying (p. 39). Brown avers from the idea that we should simply blend as many styles together as possible (p. 197). Even though we may prefer one style of worship over another, part of our journey towards spiritual maturity is learning to appreciate our neighbours’ tastes, recognizing that every person has a unique context and way of approaching God (p. 198). I appreciate Brown’s global mindset as he often brings non-Western cultures such as the Chinese and Eastern religion, particularly Hinduism, into the discussion. This is helpful as I believe some champions of Western civilization do not know how to sufficiently appreciate what are in many ways still exotic artistic expressions (what has Arvo Pärt to do with Ladysmith Black Mambazo and Aradhna?).
The (typically evangelical) drive to accessibility has often resulted in a neglect of “high art” among (evangelical) Christians. Brown submits that this may be due to the unique Protestant emphasis on “grace alone” that can result in a neglect of sanctification (more apparent among Reformed Christianity rather than Methodist and Holiness streams, p. 252-53); in a way, sanctification is like the cultivation of taste since in both one is working towards a goal, either towards greater holiness or towards a proper appreciation for art. In the end, Brown helpfully summarizes twelve key assumptions/premises of mature and ecumenical Christian taste (p. 250-51). All in all a thoughtful, courteous , and challenging book on how Christians can cultivate a better sense of taste while loving others through appreciating their neighbours’ tastes.
December 3, 2014
Overall, I was not impressed with this book. There were some good highlights in it here and there, but it was generally unsatisfying. Brown interacts with many sources of aesthetics across the religious spectrum, but isn't conclusive about much. Maybe that is simply the nature of the subject; i.e., one can't be too dogmatic about aesthetics. But I was expecting more.
January 25, 2019
[Finished reading on November 5, 2018.]
I read several books on Christianity, aesthetics, and the arts within a three-month span. This book was one of them, and it didn't stand out as much as the others. Brown deals more with taste than others. He believes that taste involves dimensions of morality as well as perceiving, enjoying, and judging. Taste also affects one's theology and religious experience. For some, art is religion. Brown deals with this and kitsch and more.
I read several books on Christianity, aesthetics, and the arts within a three-month span. This book was one of them, and it didn't stand out as much as the others. Brown deals more with taste than others. He believes that taste involves dimensions of morality as well as perceiving, enjoying, and judging. Taste also affects one's theology and religious experience. For some, art is religion. Brown deals with this and kitsch and more.
May 5, 2021
I’ve had a difficult time rating and reviewing this book. I really *wanted* to like it, but I’m afraid it was just too scatter-shot and vague to be a 5- or even 4-star for me. As another reviewer on GR put it, “he isn’t conclusive about much.” Although there are worthwhile thoughts, ideas, and proposals throughout, I’m left with the feeling that Brown is attempting too giant of a task, and the book is paradoxically both too long and too incomplete. I’m also left with the feeling that he’s overly tentative (if not downright apologetic) about his own thesis, which would appear to be that a truly faithful and mature Christian aesthetic is one that is simultaneously transcendent & counter-cultural but at least somewhat connected to or grounded in (a) “secular” culture, and also not afraid of arts that require some work in order to appreciate or “grow into,” akin to the notion of sanctification/theosis in the life of faith.
Brown’s idea of “ecumenical taste” is attractive, but again he doesn’t ever definitively define what he means by that phrase.
Perhaps the most memorable and successful part of the book is Chapter 8, in which Brown eloquently, decisively, and categorically (but also, I should say, charitably) takes apart the arguments of William Easum’s unfortunate book “Dancing with Dinosaurs.” This chapter also includes Brown’s helpful list of 12 “premises/assumptions” for working towards a Christian aesthetic. Unfortunately Chapter 8 is but one chapter among many. His conversation partners are also telling about his own theological leanings (Paul Tillich? Schleiermacher?), although I was quite appreciative of his engaging with Augustine. Too bad Percy Dearmer wasn’t on his radar with this topic. I also wish that he had engaged with the genre of Chant as something quite distinctive from “Classical Music.”
Finally, even though he vaguely admits to his own cultural grounding, a reader in the 2020s will most likely find this book to be quite white-Protestant-normative in many or most of its assumptions. The Black Church experience is always lurking in the background, but clearly as a side topic.
Brown’s idea of “ecumenical taste” is attractive, but again he doesn’t ever definitively define what he means by that phrase.
Perhaps the most memorable and successful part of the book is Chapter 8, in which Brown eloquently, decisively, and categorically (but also, I should say, charitably) takes apart the arguments of William Easum’s unfortunate book “Dancing with Dinosaurs.” This chapter also includes Brown’s helpful list of 12 “premises/assumptions” for working towards a Christian aesthetic. Unfortunately Chapter 8 is but one chapter among many. His conversation partners are also telling about his own theological leanings (Paul Tillich? Schleiermacher?), although I was quite appreciative of his engaging with Augustine. Too bad Percy Dearmer wasn’t on his radar with this topic. I also wish that he had engaged with the genre of Chant as something quite distinctive from “Classical Music.”
Finally, even though he vaguely admits to his own cultural grounding, a reader in the 2020s will most likely find this book to be quite white-Protestant-normative in many or most of its assumptions. The Black Church experience is always lurking in the background, but clearly as a side topic.
February 26, 2022
Can Beauty Exist in a Postmodern World?
The promise of the book's title, and the tease throughout the text, is that the author is going to provide some objective basis for evaluating what makes aesthetic desire 'good', 'bad' and 'Christian.' But the author quickly goes off the rails when he turns to postmodernist Jacques Derrida for philosophical direction. You cannot start with Derrida and end up with any type of objective basis for evaluating anything.
When Derrida proclaimed "there is nothing outside the text" he meant there is no outside authority to endow any communication with objective truth or universal meaning; its all a matter of interpretation. There are no ultimate standards for good or bad, those are just words and there is no accessible objective reality that provides any basis for distinguishing their meaning. To borrow from Richard Rorty's "truth is what our peers will let us get away with saying," the postmoderns would similarly say that good is what your peers approve, and bad is that which they disapprove.
The author here is on-board with postmodern peer review regulating aesthetic taste. He tells us that individuals are not competent to make judgments on music or art, and the inclination to do so "is related to the sin of pride"; all matters of taste must be determined on a communal basis by the experts in charge. Not surprisingly, the author considers himself to be among the elect as he makes aesthetic judgments on music and art throughout the book.
While citing some common critiques of postmodernism, the author ultimately defends it and builds his theory of aesthetics on Derrida's foundation. But postmodernism undercuts the stated purpose of the book which is to connect "ultimate beauty with the beauty of art or of nature," and the author equates ultimate beauty with "God's beauty." Postmodernism has no ultimates and has no God. As Nietzsche proclaimed, "God is dead" in the postmodern world. You can have the word "God" and you can make that word mean anything your peers let you get away with saying, but you cannot have an objectively real God who exists independently of the definitions given Him by the peer review committee.
Postmodern aversion to objective reality is revealed in the author's thesis that "the taste for art precisely as aesthetic feeds and is fed by the thirst for the invisible God." As defined in the book, taste is the human faculty for discerning beauty, while hunger and thirst represent desire. Ordinarily, having a hunger fed would be a metaphor of desire fulfilled by obtaining the object of desire. A hunger for bread is satisfied by eating bread; and a thirst for water is satisfied by drinking water. But that's not how it works in the postmodern world because there is no obtainable Bread of Life or Living Water, and this is exemplified by the author's statement above where God is removed as the object of desire that satisfies.
The author says instead that one's desire for God is fed by taste, as opposed to being fed by food. In other words, your ability to taste food satisfies your desire for food even when there is no actual food there for you to consume! Your desire for God is satisfied by your taste for art, not by God Himself. True knowledge of God is unobtainable and the longing to partake of it a "futile and finally superficial desire." So says Derrida, and the author's thesis is in accord.
God and ultimate Beauty, as knowable realities, have been removed from the postmodern universe. But the good news of the postmodern gospel is that you don't need them anymore to satisfy your desire for transcendence. Aesthetic taste is all you need.
So what constitutes Good, Bad, and Christian Taste? Its simple: consult your local authorities.
The promise of the book's title, and the tease throughout the text, is that the author is going to provide some objective basis for evaluating what makes aesthetic desire 'good', 'bad' and 'Christian.' But the author quickly goes off the rails when he turns to postmodernist Jacques Derrida for philosophical direction. You cannot start with Derrida and end up with any type of objective basis for evaluating anything.
When Derrida proclaimed "there is nothing outside the text" he meant there is no outside authority to endow any communication with objective truth or universal meaning; its all a matter of interpretation. There are no ultimate standards for good or bad, those are just words and there is no accessible objective reality that provides any basis for distinguishing their meaning. To borrow from Richard Rorty's "truth is what our peers will let us get away with saying," the postmoderns would similarly say that good is what your peers approve, and bad is that which they disapprove.
The author here is on-board with postmodern peer review regulating aesthetic taste. He tells us that individuals are not competent to make judgments on music or art, and the inclination to do so "is related to the sin of pride"; all matters of taste must be determined on a communal basis by the experts in charge. Not surprisingly, the author considers himself to be among the elect as he makes aesthetic judgments on music and art throughout the book.
While citing some common critiques of postmodernism, the author ultimately defends it and builds his theory of aesthetics on Derrida's foundation. But postmodernism undercuts the stated purpose of the book which is to connect "ultimate beauty with the beauty of art or of nature," and the author equates ultimate beauty with "God's beauty." Postmodernism has no ultimates and has no God. As Nietzsche proclaimed, "God is dead" in the postmodern world. You can have the word "God" and you can make that word mean anything your peers let you get away with saying, but you cannot have an objectively real God who exists independently of the definitions given Him by the peer review committee.
Postmodern aversion to objective reality is revealed in the author's thesis that "the taste for art precisely as aesthetic feeds and is fed by the thirst for the invisible God." As defined in the book, taste is the human faculty for discerning beauty, while hunger and thirst represent desire. Ordinarily, having a hunger fed would be a metaphor of desire fulfilled by obtaining the object of desire. A hunger for bread is satisfied by eating bread; and a thirst for water is satisfied by drinking water. But that's not how it works in the postmodern world because there is no obtainable Bread of Life or Living Water, and this is exemplified by the author's statement above where God is removed as the object of desire that satisfies.
The author says instead that one's desire for God is fed by taste, as opposed to being fed by food. In other words, your ability to taste food satisfies your desire for food even when there is no actual food there for you to consume! Your desire for God is satisfied by your taste for art, not by God Himself. True knowledge of God is unobtainable and the longing to partake of it a "futile and finally superficial desire." So says Derrida, and the author's thesis is in accord.
God and ultimate Beauty, as knowable realities, have been removed from the postmodern universe. But the good news of the postmodern gospel is that you don't need them anymore to satisfy your desire for transcendence. Aesthetic taste is all you need.
So what constitutes Good, Bad, and Christian Taste? Its simple: consult your local authorities.
June 3, 2021
I would probably give this 2.5 stars if that were an option (and only avoided getting 2 stars because it gave me ideas for further reading from some of its discussion). The book is fairly academic in its tone and approach, but sometimes wanders and avoids committing itself too much. Reading as a Lutheran church musician (and working classical pianist), I also found some of the off-hand comments and generalizations the author made very strange. Overall, this is not a book I will be reading again or recommending.
July 27, 2010
I got this book a few years back from the professor teaching my philosophy of Art course because I've been interested in the nature and beauty and kitsch in the worship arts. One of the things I fear most other than incompetence and the ego of the performer is that the product will be cheesy or kitschy. I hope this book will help open my thinking here.
July 3, 2012
Excellent book!
December 26, 2009
Tough going, but worth it. Foundational to a mature Christian aesthetic.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews