Why Make Art?

It's in our blood - the compulsion to create has been with us since the beginning of time.
From adze to iPhone; cave art to Pixar, our creative industry has come a long way. Of course the journey hasn't made everyone vast sums of money, so if not for the cash, why the compulsion? Why make art? 

“Because I would explode if I didn’t” writes one artist, “Because I have to” writes another.  But why is this? Why will humans explode if we don't make art? What other animal on planet earth cares? Mr Attenborough? Anyone?

Lyle D Rosdahl submits that our “drive to create… is what makes us human.” Numerous other contributors share variations on this sentiment. In other words, humans appear to be inherently creative. Birds can't help themselves flying, or fish from swimming or monkeys climbing and we humans can't seem to stop creating.



In his article, Man in the Image of God, Prof. J Rendle asks what Man in the image of God means in practical terms? It cannot refer to bodily, biological form since God is a Spirit and man is earthly. But while it may be true that the body does not belong to the image, since God does not have a body, yet somehow we would like to see man’s body (which is a very real part of man) included in the image. Language and creativity,—two important parts of the image, are impossible without a body.

We can think of man as placed halfway between God and the animals, possessing characteristics of each. Physiologically and anatomically man is an animal. He even shares the genetic code with them. Evolutionists call him a human primate. Much of his behaviour is controlled by Pavlovian conditioned reflexes. The main impact of the image is that God endues man with some of his divine attributes (language, creativity, love, holiness, immortality and freedom), thereby separating and making him different from the beasts.

According to Arthur Koestler, The emergence of symbolic language, first spoken, then written, represents the sharpest break between animal and man. (2)








The Goldfinch

It was Easter Friday 2016 when a loud BANG interrupted our family breakfast. A young goldfinch had slammed into the window and dropped. Our daughter (11) rushed to its aid but the bird wasn't moving. She cupped it in her hands and prepared a straw-lined-bed-in-a-box. My wife and I encouraged her but wondered how things would end. Two hours later the bird fully opened it's eyes, turned it's head and stood up. Next thing we knew it was flying around the room and perched on a white love-heart decoration hanging from the ceiling. My daughter held it in her hand for one last time before it flew skyward. 

The whole thing felt like a message from God. It wasn’t just a blackbird, fantail, or thrush,  it was a goldfinch on Good Friday! So what? Read on...

'Our' goldfinch minutes after flying into the window.&nbsp;Only adult goldfinches have the red &nbsp;face feathers - this one was a juvenile.

'Our' goldfinch minutes after flying into the window. Only adult goldfinches have the red  face feathers - this one was a juvenile.

Ha-lle-lujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah... Check the thorny cross motifs on the love heart.


Life beats death. Every time.

Life beats death. Every time.

Several years back I learnt something interesting about goldfinches in art. During the Renaissance, the European goldfinch became associated in paintings with important theological symbols such as the suffering, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The legend tried to explain the distinctive red markings on the Goldfinch’s head, and its diet of thistles and thorns.

This post-biblical legend developed around the goldfinch being a witness to the humiliating march of Jesus carrying the cross to Golgotha. A goldfinch flew above the staggering figure of Jesus and was distressed by the crown of thorns on his head. It flew down and tried to pluck off the thorns and some of Jesus’ blood dripped onto the goldfinch’s head. Hence the origin of its red face feathers.

European Goldfinch

European Goldfinch

George Ferguson (1961:19) remarks: The goldfinch is fond of eating thistles and thorns, and since all thorny plants were accepted as an allusion to Christ’s crown of thorns, the goldfinch became an accepted symbol of the Passion of Christ. In this sense, it frequently appears with the infant Jesus, showing the close connection between the Incarnation and Passion.


Ornithologist Herbert Friedmann (1946) wrote about some four hundred and eighty-six paintings that feature the Goldfinch. While two hundred and fifty-four artists used the Goldfinch in Christian devotional paintings. Among the notable painters are Leonardo da Vinci (Madonna Litta, 1490–1491), Raphael (Solly Madonna, 1502, and Madonna of the Goldfinch, 1506), Zurbarán (Madonna and Child with the Infant St John, 1658) and Tiepolo (Madonna of the Goldfinch, 1760). 

Giambattista Tiepolo,  Madonna of the Goldfinch , c. 1770

Giambattista Tiepolo, Madonna of the Goldfinch, c. 1770

Postscript: A funny thing happened on the way to work (in 1996)

Back then I lived in central Christchurch and most days would walk to work at ad agency, Foote Cone and Belding. One morning, feeling pretty sad (actually sorry for myself) I was walking along when out of nowhere a sparrow flew straight into my foot and dropped dead to the ground! At that instant I was reminded of a Bible verse about God caring for us more than sparrows: “Aren’t two sparrows sold for a cent? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are numbered. So don’t be afraid: you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10:29).

Post Postscript:

Coincidentally my wife just happens to be reading Donna Tartt’s new novel The Goldfinch.
On it’s cover is the 1654 renaissance painting by Carel Fabritius, The Goldfinch (see above).

George Ferguson (1961). Signs and Symbols in Christian Art
(London & Oxford: Oxford University Press).