A Christian Dialogue with the Figure Art of Three Contemporary Artists

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Human figures have been of pervasive interest, from ancient Greek statues to social media filled with selfies, body portraits, and headshots. What can the figure art of three contemporary artists tell us about present-day views on the self? This article examines selected art and messages of John Currin, Cindy Sherman, and Susan R. Karhroody and dialogues with their artwork from a biblical view. We will find these contemporary artists’ figure art speaks to contemporary issues of self-identity and self-worth in surprising and illuminating ways.

John Currin: Self-Identity and Materialism

Plastered smiles with shipwrecked souls in contemporary society are messages from John Currin (b. 1962). In a Norman Rockwell style, Currin paints human figures in “awkward poses” with “bodily exaggerations” set in the “sumptuous surfaces” of suburban lifestyles.[1] At first blush, he impresses upon the viewer that everything is fine and pleasant, but a moment later, his work subtly conveys to the audience that something is wrong. His art delivers the warning that surface pleasantries are not enough to cultivate flourishing souls.

Patch and Pearl (2006) show two white women, a blonde and a redhead, dressed in casual upper-middle-class attire. One wears a patch on her pants while the other pearl necklaces, hence the title. Pleasantly smiling and leisurely standing in front of a suburban brick, earth tone fence, each with a hand on her hip, they look at something to the right of and past the viewer. They may be watching their husbands return home or their children playing in the yard.

The viewer will realize their bodies are not quite right. They appear pregnant but with malformed, “distended bellies.”[2] Pearl’s clumpy, slumped abdominal protrusion appears as an abnormal growth.[3] Patch wears her pants backwards, and they don't fit quite right around her oddly shaped stomach. While Pearl’s right hand rests on her hip, the arm connects too low to her body, beneath the shoulder joint. They stand awkwardly next to each other, suggesting their relationship is off: Pearl’s leg presses on the back of Patch’s while her distended belly presses on the front of Patch’s stomach. The figures’ subtle deformities imply something is fundamentally wrong while they are unaware of the shipwrecked state of their souls, much like the self-deceived man who told himself, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry” (Luke 12:19, ESV).

Can eerie smiles send important cautions? Anna (2004) is a portrait of a woman looking at the viewer from behind an elegant, silver three-branch candelabra. The gleaming, exquisite candelabra symbolizes opulence. But the candles are melted down halfway with snuffed-out wicks, conveying wear and lifelessness. Next to it lies a browning banana that may rot soon. Tilting her head, she peers between two of the candle branches. Her forced smile beneath two hollow eyes seems to cry, “Help me!” The meaning of the piece may be duplicitous. Looking from behind the candle branches, she hides behind her exquisiteness to mask her problems. Or the candle branches are like jail bars from behind which she looks to the outside world, as she is trapped by her elegant life. Currin seems to expose a problem of contemporary society: people use wealth as a façade for self-identity but are empty souls imprisoned by prosperity.

In the imagery of Ezekiel 16 illustrating Israel’s unfaithfulness to God, Yahweh states: “But you trusted in your beauty” (Ezek 16:15), where people trusted in the gifts but not the giver.[4] The snare of finding self-identity and self-worth in material wealth is alluring. But a truth Jesus states addresses the problem, “one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (Luke 12:15). Material treasures can house shipwrecked souls, if one defines his sense of self by his possessions.

Another Currin painting with “disharmonious compositions and disproportionate anatomical renderings” assesses the spiritual condition of contemporary society.[5] The Pink Tree (1999) depicts two anatomically disproportioned, nude females posing awkwardly relative to each other. The title of the piece refers to the pink tree, which is in the background, obscured by the women. Although the women in the foreground call for the viewer’s attention, the pink tree interprets their conditions. The leafless limbs and stem are chopped, amputated, and prevented from flourishing. Bulbous protrusions cover the bark, like boils. Appearing lifeless and pink, the viewer cannot dismiss it. The women’s plastic smiles cannot diffuse the suggestion of the tree looming in the background that their inner selves are unhealthy, symbolized by their physical disproportions.

Currin’s figure paintings enlighten a spiritual problem, one that may echo Yahweh’s diagnosis, “How sick is your heart” (Exek 16:30), regarding a people who trusted in their fortunes that led to idolatry and the wreckage of their souls. The message of 1 Timothy 6:17 resonates with the caution against determining identity and worth by shallow means: hope in God, not in wealth. Even still, against the sickness of the soul symbolized by the disproportionate bodies in Currin’s pieces, life is found in Christ who will “give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit” (Rom 8:11). That true animation of the body, which would otherwise be a hollow shell, as expressed in Anna, comes from Christ.

Cindy Sherman: Self-Identity, Perceptual Filters, and Belonging

While Currin warned against the façade of wealth, another contemporary artist of human figures addresses the issue of defining oneself in a media-filtered culture. Cindy Sherman (b. 1954) uses chromogenic color prints to deconstruct the ways people define themselves, challenging a false sense of identity formed within constructs of society’s expectations. “People construct ways to look at themselves and others. It is an incessant desire, impossible to satisfy, which creates more pictures.”[6] People invent themselves superficially with fashion and cosmetics that cover the body but don’t form an authentic self based on beliefs, values, and spiritual formation. Sherman exposes unstable self-definitions. With unapologetic regard, “her fragmented, mutating faces and bodies rip at the fabric of identity.”[7]

Reflective of Andy Warhol’s famous Marilyn Monroe (1967), Sherman’s series of photographs created in 2000 shows her dressed and adorned in various appearances. Each photograph maintains consistent formal elements: half-body shots that show her from the waist up, muted background colors with dull lighting, and roughly the same negative spaces around her head and shoulders. The variation of each piece is her persona. Untitled #404shows her wearing a dull blue blouse with shoulder-length hair. In Untitled #353, she is dressed glamorously and covered with ample make-up as she poses like a celebrity for a photoshoot. Untitled #355 contrasts these with her wearing a plain red tank top and fitted grey shorts while she projects a gruff attitude of I-can-take-on-anything.

However, for Sherman, the photographs are not about her but us. “Sherman figures into her compositions the reality and position of a viewer: the viewer becomes an intrinsic element in the photographs.”[8] Sherman’s pictures state that our identities are socially fabricated. “The appeal of Sherman’s art may be found in the way it resonates with the American cult of the self, and particularly the idea that we may fashion the self.”[9] Her works are meant to challenge how viewers see themselves and, more importantly, define themselves. She invokes the questions: do you know who you are and do you invent yourself according to social standards and influences?

Biblical messages of not conforming to the ways of the world may come to mind (Rom 12:2; Col 2:8; 2 Cor 6:17; John 17:16; 1 John 2:15) as they apply to forming one’s identity. People see themselves and others through the perceptual filters fabricated by pop culture media and social media. To this aspect of American life, Sherman propounds that self-identities formed in this way are unstable. However, for a Christian, a substantive and unshakeable identity is found in Christ (Eph 1:3–23; Gal 2:20). Simultaneously, while a grounded identity is common to all believers, we can also appreciate a rich personal identity that is actualized in Christ as we consider the personal testimony of the apostle Paul (Acts 26:12–18; 1 Cor 15:8–10, Phil 3:4–10) and others in biblical history. Such personal identities fashioned in Christ are substantive and steadfast, speaking to the unstable, media-influenced self-identities.

Sherman also addresses how the self exists in a context. Untitled #512 (2010/2011) depicts a figure contradicting her setting. A woman dressed elegantly in a pale and beige satin coat with feathery trim stands in a barren, rocky terrain. With perfectly styled hair following her facial curves, she poises as though posing for a camera. But with striking blue eyes contrasting the muted setting, she looks at the audience with an expression of I-don’t-belong-here. If Currin depicts something-is-wrong, Sherman conveys something-is-out-of-place. Here, she addresses self-identity in relation to the sense of belonging. The colloquial phrase “a fish out of water” may relate to Sherman’s suggestion here that people in contemporary society struggle with a sense of belonging.

God’s creation of humans addressed belonging. After making Adam in his image, God placed him in a garden rich with gold, precious stones, and elegant fragrances (Gen 2:8–14), surrounded by shining rivers and trees good to eat and look at. In this beautiful context, the first humans had the purpose of caring for it, contributing to the goodness and beauty God created. In fact, God ordained humans to steward the earth as benevolent rulers (Gen 1:28). God designed people to belong teleologically. Being made in God’s image fits the purpose given to humans to rule and subdue the earth, which results in flourishing. People were designed to fit their setting on earth.

In Christ, the purpose of creating goodness in the world continues as being salt and light (Matt 5:14–15). Even while Christians differ from worldly cultures, they still belong to the world purposefully (John 17:16–18). Christians belong as agents of God’s work.

Humans also belong relationally. God defined the first human connection: marriage (Gen 2:18–24), the starting point of a family. In Christ, redeemed humans belong in community to one another (Eph 2:11–22, 4:1–16) and to God’s kingdom (Phil 3:20). Lastly, belonging extends to the final destiny of Christians in the New Earth (Isa 65:17–19; Rev 21). God designed people to belong.

Susan R. Karhroody: The Body and Inherent Beauty

While artworks by Currin and Sherman illuminate issues and cautions about how people define self-identity, a Los Angeles-based artist conveys positive messages about the human body. Susan R. Karhroody, president of LELA International Artists (Lantern of the East Los Angeles), exhibits in the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum, Nagasaki Prefectural Art Museum, and Chiba Museum, among other prestigious shows. In my email interview with Karhroody, she states that her “inspiration behind exploring the human figure stems from its powerful ability to convey universal themes—strength, vulnerability, resilience, and beauty. The human form, in all its diversity, serves as a vessel for telling deeply personal and collective stories.”[10] Karhroody’s art confronts self-inflicting perceptions of the body that are informed by negative social expectations, while she also illuminates the inherent dignity of the human form.

Breaking Through (2013)[11] depicts the vigilance of pushing through the negative pressures of societal suppositions about who a person should be. This large format piece shows six nude female figures dynamically pushing through torrents of swirls, vortexes, and waves. The figures’ flesh tone contrasts the dominant dark reds, accented by blacks and blues, an overall color scheme portraying a vigorous force entangling the women. “Whirlpools, representing the powerful and consuming nature of these forces,” according to Karhroody, “appear throughout the series, symbolizing the societal expectations, limitations, and personal struggles that often threaten to pull us in and reshape us.” As the women push against social pressures, Karhroody states, “Yet within this turbulence, the figures twist and stretch, resisting the currents that attempt to define them. This visual language reflects the inner tension and the dynamic, ongoing process of breaking free and reclaiming identity in the face of adversity.”[12]

Karhroody’s artwork can be held in dialogue with Sherman’s. Whereas Sherman assesses the issue of unstable self-identities formed in the fluidness of society’s perceptual filters, Karhroody praises one’s fortitude of struggling against societal pressures and affirms the goodness that results from the struggle.

Going further, Karhroody’s Venus Unveiled (2024), in the “Perceive Me” exhibition, celebrates the dignity of the human body by reimagining Botticelli's Birth of Venus. Excluding the side characters present in Botticelli’s work and in place of Venus, Karhroody portrays a plus-size, bald woman on a shell, using a live model—Kristine—to challenge stereotypical ideals of physical beauty. She does so by showing “the complexity of the human body in all shapes and forms” and by capturing Kristine’s presence of “grace, strength, and beauty,” intangible qualities manifested through physical form. Karhroody aims “to honor the message that all bodies are worthy, beautiful, and powerful, each carrying its unique story.”[13] She does not suggest deifying or sexualizing the figure but hopes to “expand the dialogue around beauty and self-worth, illustrating that the human figure is endlessly diverse and beautiful, regardless of shape or form.”[14]

The human body is essentially part of being human. The Bible portrays the body as a work of art fashioned (Hebrew yasar) by God, like a sculptor molding clay (Gen 2:7). Our bodies are a complex wonder (Ps 139:13–16), as Karhroody highlights. The blood of Jesus that bought not only our souls but also our bodies validates the value of our bodies (1 Cor 6:20a). The Bible assumes a healthy view of caring for the body (Eph 5:29). The bodies of the redeemed are sacred (1 Cor 6:19). God has an eschatological vision for the bodies of redeemed believers (1 Cor 15:35–49; Phil 3:21). The body is instrumental for glorifying God (1 Cor 6:20b). The Bible robustly affirms the body’s essentialness, importance, and beauty.

Karhroody’s message on the inherent beauty of bodies of all shapes, sizes, abilities and disabilities resounds a biblical view of the body as a divine, miraculous work of art. Even her suggestion that the body bears special, sacred dignity, without deifying it, artistically illustrates a biblical perception of the human figure. As such, the body ought to be cared for, respected, and regarded as vital for effecting God’s glory on earth.

Karhroody conducts figure study sessions with artists using a live model. She believes that “figure study is an essential practice for artists, helping them connect more deeply with the human form.” She explains, “By working with various body types and expressions, I hoped to encourage a broader, more inclusive understanding of beauty and inspire each artist to see the human form in new and diverse ways.”[15] Such diligence in exploring and appreciating the wonderful work of the body echoes the spirit of Psalm 139.

Conclusion

Dialoguing with the figure art of Currin, Sherman, and Karhroody from a biblical perspective, we are illuminated to the principle that the façade of wealth cannot define a person. Rather, trusting in God is necessary for a flourishing self. We are given an awareness of the instability of inventing the self according to expectations of media and society. The answer for a rich, grounded identity is found in Christ. We are also enlightened to the inherent dignity and beauty of the human form, which is a masterful, wonderful design by God. The body is not only practical and important, but also beautiful and essential for being human in creation and redemption. And thus, we ought to honor and treat it as such.

References

[1] Joanne Heyler, Ed Schad, and Chelsea Beck, eds., The Broad Collection (Los Angeles, CA: The Broad Museum, 2015), 309.

[2] Heyler, Schad, and Beck, The Broad Collection, 309.

[3] Heyler, Schad, and Beck, The Broad Collection, 309.

[4] Daniel Block, The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 1–24, The New International Commentary on the Old Testament, ed. R. K. Harrison and R. L. Hubbard (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 488.

[5] Theodore L. Prescott, ed. A Broken Beauty (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005), 73.

[6] Heyler, Schad, and Beck, The Broad Collection, 168.

[7] Heyler, Schad, and Beck, The Broad Collection, 168

[8] Heyler, Schad, and Beck, The Broad Collection, 168.

[9] Prescott, A Broken Beauty, 12.

[10] Susan R. Karhroody, email message to author, November 4, 2024.

[11] Previously titled, “Make a Mark.”

[12] Karhroody, email message to author.

[13] Karhroody, email message to author.

[14] Karhroody, email message to author.

[15] Karhroody, email message to author.