When I was in College I remember studying an artist named Makoto Fujimura. He was sort of a hero of students and teachers alike, as he graciously balances living as a respected artist and a Christian. This is uncommon and difficult today...and so, admirable.
This past week I had the opportunity to meet with him and work with him. He recently finished illuminating the gospel (a Crossway Project) and boldly marries his art to the gospel text. The result is something beautiful; here's a
link to a video that describes the process.
Last Friday night Crossway had an opening for the work he did for the project. I helped place and hang the artwork. It felt strange handling Makoto's paintings; opening the crates, unpacking the boxes, unwrapping the bubble wrap to unveil a painting. Canvas pulled over wood, painted with mineral colors. It seemed so real and simple--easy to sense the what the painting was really made of, the pieces were demystified. Having breakfast with Makoto furthered that demystification. We talked about his kids and his brother and I ate an omelet. The "hero" that I studied in College sat sipping his tea.
At first I thought the real simpleness and up close exposure might take some of the zing away from what Mako may consider "his life work." As I thought about it more it only added depth. When I saw the paintings all lit up, telling a story, people gathered around, I couldn't separate them from the simple paint on canvas that they were. This simplicity adds depth to the gift...reminded me of what creating means and exposed the process. When we come across art to behold, and that we can glean from, it can always be traced back--even the most famous artists and canvases can be boiled down to something ordinary. A man drinking tea or a canvas with paint. That encourages me as an artist.
