What is the relationship between religious artefacts and the locality where such objects are made and used? This is the question that the Art of Faith exhibition at the Norwich Castle Museum aims to explore, and the abundance of surviving religious objects in the Norfolk area provides an excellent case study for such an investigation. The statement outlines a simple theory that has been put forward: the power and agency which religious objects hold ‘take a substantial part… from the locality in which they are made or used.’ Given that religious artefacts are commonly given agency within ritual, prayer, or serve a very personal role in spiritual devotion, an investigation on agency provide the curators of the Art of Faith with a complex challenge, if only because within a museum space the object is de-contextualised and its aesthetics are highlighted beyond its primary function within a belief system. Additionally, when placed next to objects of other, sometimes conflicting faiths it is to be expected that such effects will be heightened and politicised. When these factors have been countered for, the exhibition then has the task of investigating not only the religious objects within Norfolk particularly, but to emphasize that Norfolk and its landscape has impacted the very agency these objects hold.
Many of the objects were chosen based on their role within a religious conflict or friction, which also served to counteract the loss of agency and also possible religious friction occurring within the space. This shows the delicacy and power that objects hold as symbols for greater values than their pure aesthetic form, and also openly embraces the idea that because these objects primarily serve to symbolize something outside the material world, their very manipulation has repercussions beyond what we can see in the museum space. The information provided at times did not help to convey a deeper sense of meaning, referring to inclusions as ‘ritual objects’, the belief system it represents being lost. The lighting of the space is also at times confusing. Some objects are given their own case with a backlight, as if creating a halo over the text, and then others are not given any such attention.
The general spacing of the objects was, however, done with care, and each object can be considered individually without the obtrusion of surrounding faiths and objects. In this way the diversity and call for tolerance of so many different faiths under one roof has been largely successful. As one visitor noted, ‘The fact that it is not overcrowded with stuff gives one time to reflect.’ In this way the museum as a space for reflection has been identified and employed to ensure the space upholds respect for the objects and the spiritual and belief values in which they embody. The Bircham Cope is a well-fitting example of this. Not only are we given a full 360 view of the dress to observe for ourselves the care taken in the very act of iconoclasm, but the mannequin is positioned in such a way that one can imagine a priest’s arms wide open in worship. The ability to closely observe a very delicate form of religious hostility further underlines the power this garment holds. It is unfortunate then, that this is where our contemplation of the work stops, as this piece holds much potential to explore the idea of locality within its very aesthetics. What type of leaf is embroidered? Is it from a plant found in the Norfolk area? Did it come to represent a spiritual aspect of faith? Do other localities use the same motif in church garments? The aesthetic emphasis on objects within a museum space allows for a different approach to be made to these works, an aspect which could be more fully explored to encompass a fuller understanding of the theory originally put forward.
Because the space is organised chronologically, the artefacts by default were largely grouped by religion, in order of materialisation. This was probably necessary in order to offer a sense of narrative, however I did not feel that this was such a high priority in the exhibition’s proposed focus on locality. Perhaps if the artefacts were organised upon a different structure, the visitor would have had the opportunity to look at religion upon new foundations, such as locality, and been brought to the forefront for consideration. Nevertheless, the exhibition is largely successful for ensuring that the space does not become a museum of historically dead objects by a few key inclusions. One case in point is a painting of Sea Henge by Susan Laughlin, one of the first works in the exhibition. A contemporary artist who shares similar beliefs with its original users, Laughlin has ensured this religious site within the landscape has come to life. This piece alone unites everything this exhibition aims to investigate and is therefore a perfect choice for the entrance into the gallery, seamlessly combining the past and present, power and agency, religion and locality.
And yet, I feel that the (proposed) central concept of ‘locality’ was left largely unexamined. One problem with the concept ‘locality’, is that there is no way of identifying that which is local, and that which is not, unless it is contrasted against another. This was explored during a session of Café Conversations labelled ‘Is Norfolk really different?’ yet this problem of locality was still left for the most part unresolved. There appeared to be a need to contrast local to international, or one locality to another. The introductory panel informs the visitor that ‘the low-lying landscape of this region of Britain can be seen to have had a lasting impact upon the sacred sites of many of these faiths.’ However, the captions accompanying the objects seem to prioritise the history and agency of works without alluding to the possible influence of its location or geography of place; we are not told why or how a low-lying landscape would affect the proceeding inclusions of the exhibit.
On a personal note, when an object’s locality was mentioned by name in these captions, I could not use them to create a sense of place or navigation, as I am not familiar with this region of England. However, I feel that small pictorial maps alongside the objects would have been advantageous to both the international, and local visitors. Another international visitor states: ‘the exhibition was excellent – very historically informative! I am American and was not aware of much of the history of interplay of faiths in this part of the world.’ While a narrative of religion has been shown successfully by chronological organisation, the ‘relationship’ which was to be explored rather has become a one-way observation: a history of a specific type of artworks and artefacts, which happen to all come from the Norfolk area. What is the locality of Norfolk? What defines Norfolk, in relation to other areas of England, other areas of Europe? Can we define Norfolk in spiritual or religious terms? Is there a connection between all these faiths? Is one way of finding such a connection looking to the geography of the landscape, or of maps of the time periods? Do any of these objects convey a self-awareness of their geographical place? One way of entering into such concepts may have been a more generous inclusion of the abundant landscape paintings that Norfolk holds, especially in the Romantic era, when an attitude towards nature was spiritual in nature, if not specific to a certain religion per se.
Given that an outcome of the exhibition was to ‘use a map of sacred sites as a basis for understanding the exact relationships between local landscapes and religious artefacts,’ it is surprising to find any sort of map only on the way out of the gallery. It seemed to be more of an after-thought to the exhibition, rather than a focus. Its virtuality, although making it accessible for a modern audience, is restricting in that only a few can use it at one time. Additionally, sites are organised by religion, which proves problematic, as many objects were not given labels to the beliefs they represented. However its biggest drawback was the fact that it was extremely difficult to transfer any meaning gained from the objects onto the screen where buildings had been mapped out. The map was not located in the space in order for is to be used as a basis to explore the notion of a landscape, nor to be able to refer it back to the power of these objects. Its virtuality also hindered the possibility of a connection to be made in relation to the un-filtered presence of the historic pieces earlier encountered.
That said, the commissioned video piece by Chris Newby – Something Understood – hits the marks perfectly. We are given a respite from reading and accumulating information, and are presented with the very experience of spirituality, as it is alive today. The sounds of prayer, worship, and of nature mix and blend into each other over a visual collage of the same themes. The result is a direct connection between place and faith, explored intimately in ritual: the very art of different faiths themselves. A visual comparison of swaying wheat fields to the rocking of devout churchgoers in worship naturalizes religious practice; both man and nature surrender themselves to the movement of forces unseen. This piece ensures that an exhibition on such a wide breadth of belief systems in one region does not provide evidence for the idea that locality holds little influence on spirituality, but can be seen as a basis for reflecting upon it.
A very thought-provoking article and thankyou for your comments concerning my painting of Sea-Henge, (‘Glowing Embers’).
From attending the 2-day conference which was set up a year before the exhibition opened, myself and other artists felt that, although much attention and detail was given to the research concerning the different historical faiths practised within Norfolk,the question of why artists respond to its landscape in a spiritual manner, was largely left unanswered.
It is not only the stunning light of this part of East Anglia, nor indeed it’s largely flat landscape but something more sublime. Something felt. Something that cannot be defined by words alone that inspires artists to endeavour to communicate. When walking within the landscape, one cannot help but be struck by its powerful sense of ancient history and spirituality that seems to ouze out of the very earth itself; from the blue war-painted celts to the agrictultural revolution, from the industrial revolution through to the modern landscape and culture of today.
This is what drives me to paint images of the East Anglian landscape with the obsessive passion that I do. Should you wish to contact me with a view to publishing an article on my work, I should be more than happy to oblige.
Best regards
Sue Laughlin