I was beginning to get a little anxious about how we were going to get the best use from our new community hall for the forthcoming annual arts festival at St. John’s. The new academic year was upon us and I had to get the publicity out as the festival happens in mid-October. Last year when the hall had just been completed, it became a very effective exhibition space for local artists. We installed a picture rail in the hall and adjoining meeting rooms allowing us to hang an extensive exhibition including a range of subject-matter, styles and media. This not only complimented the other events, such as the concerts and dramatic production I had directed, but helped create a very impressive foyer for these performances. It was such a success that we put in some architectural spotlights later in the year when we held a second exhibition during Lent. However exhibitions take some organizing and I do not have a long list of contacts of local artists. I decided somewhat impulsively that perhaps we should have a photographic exhibition instead. I know very little about photography, nor what an exhibition on this scale might involve. However, churches are wonderful sources for net-working and after a couple of emails I had my man! Jeremy has been on the fringes of the church for a number of years, but I have always found him to be something of a jack of all trades who has come to the rescue when we have needed help with sound or lighting for a number of shows. He is also a very gifted amateur photographer and one of those characters who makes things happen and ensures they are done with flair. It so happens that Jeremy has a very impressive website of his work including travel photography, flora and fauna and an inspiring series of more abstract work. We sat down over coffee with another mover and shaker from the church and began to plot! We discovered there were a few other excellent photographers among the congregation including a young graduate who was studying in Brighton. She had a ready-made display of fascinating portraiture to contribute from her AS photography course at the local sixth-form college. In addition, Jeremy had the idea of including a digital display projected onto a large screen in one of the meeting rooms. We decided to invite anyone from the congregation and their friends to email their best shots to Jeremy so he could create a slide-show which could loop round and round throughout the weekend. Finally, we borrowed an extensive set of screens from the local council which meant we could mount smaller prints where they could be encountered at closer proximity and which would give the hall space a sort of café atmosphere. A private view was held earlier in the week and Jeremy and the graduate Alex Best were interviewed about their work with additional questions coming from the floor.
The exhibition was enjoyed by many people from the local community including the three hundred or so folk who had come to the performances over the weekend. There were several, like me, who were drawn into the side-room to enjoy the digital display. We had put sofas and soft chairs in front of the screen creating the feel of an intimate cinema. It became, moreover, a sanctuary from the main hall with the giant images slowly and silently dissolving every five seconds or so; it also, for me at least, became a form of prayer. The loop took the best part of an hour and I was surprised that I had stayed the course, as I do not make a habit of looking at still images for any length of time. Yet I found myself to be strangely energised by the end of the show. I had been transported around the world from Sussex, to Nepal, Antarctica, the Falklands, Cape Town and many other foreign lands. I had laughed at the silly posturing of penguins, gasped at the power and majesty of landscapes, identified with the deep-set, soulful expressions of venerable Nepalese natives. As I reflected on the slide-show in the following week I was able to identify some of the elements that had contributed to the spiritual dimensions of the experience. Each image reflected in some way a moment of thoughtful response from human beings to God’s endless revelation of the fascinating complexity and diversity of life through all which surrounds us. Taking the photograph involved a slowing down and waiting, a contemplation of an image, finding an interesting angle on it and a way of framing the picture. It was also a way of remembering, appreciating, and perhaps sharing moments of significance or meaning along our pilgrimage through life. I was talking with one of the photography teachers at our school the other day and he remarked that a photograph often tells you as much about the person taking it as their subject. In that case each image was potentially a moment of self-revelation and I suppose that is partly why photography at its best is an art form capable of moving us very powerfully. Thomas Merton, one of the great mystics of the twentieth century was a very keen and expert photographer and it was central to his profound, contemplative spirituality. Although Jeremy has, as I said, been on the fringes of the Church he had taught us much through this exhibition. Perhaps it is those on the edge of things who often find the most interesting angle. That is certainly true for the photographer and the artist in general.
The exhibition was enjoyed by many people from the local community including the three hundred or so folk who had come to the performances over the weekend. There were several, like me, who were drawn into the side-room to enjoy the digital display. We had put sofas and soft chairs in front of the screen creating the feel of an intimate cinema. It became, moreover, a sanctuary from the main hall with the giant images slowly and silently dissolving every five seconds or so; it also, for me at least, became a form of prayer. The loop took the best part of an hour and I was surprised that I had stayed the course, as I do not make a habit of looking at still images for any length of time. Yet I found myself to be strangely energised by the end of the show. I had been transported around the world from Sussex, to Nepal, Antarctica, the Falklands, Cape Town and many other foreign lands. I had laughed at the silly posturing of penguins, gasped at the power and majesty of landscapes, identified with the deep-set, soulful expressions of venerable Nepalese natives. As I reflected on the slide-show in the following week I was able to identify some of the elements that had contributed to the spiritual dimensions of the experience. Each image reflected in some way a moment of thoughtful response from human beings to God’s endless revelation of the fascinating complexity and diversity of life through all which surrounds us. Taking the photograph involved a slowing down and waiting, a contemplation of an image, finding an interesting angle on it and a way of framing the picture. It was also a way of remembering, appreciating, and perhaps sharing moments of significance or meaning along our pilgrimage through life. I was talking with one of the photography teachers at our school the other day and he remarked that a photograph often tells you as much about the person taking it as their subject. In that case each image was potentially a moment of self-revelation and I suppose that is partly why photography at its best is an art form capable of moving us very powerfully. Thomas Merton, one of the great mystics of the twentieth century was a very keen and expert photographer and it was central to his profound, contemplative spirituality. Although Jeremy has, as I said, been on the fringes of the Church he had taught us much through this exhibition. Perhaps it is those on the edge of things who often find the most interesting angle. That is certainly true for the photographer and the artist in general.
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