
Emily Carr
Indian Church, 1929
oil on canvas
Switching gears from photos to paintings and illustrations.
It's funny what people see in this painting. Some find comfort in the familiar geometric shape of the little white church holding off the wildness of the forest. I wonder if this is how many of Carr's contemporaries, little Victorians busy carving out their comfortable piece of civilization surrounded by water and the unknowns of the green world about them, ready to drive the natural world into submission as they felt their Christian God had commanded them to in the opening parts of the book of Genesis.
But I have heard that Carr's intent was to show the intrusion of this building into the wilderness. More here.
This is what I see now when I drive through cities with churches hosting empty and large parking lots barren of any kind of vegetation. "How smart we are to be in Here and not Out There. How civilized we are to be inside this Building. How lucky we are to have found the Truth." And all the while a green world grows on outside of all the other large parking lots playing host to other large buildings.
I have a small print of this painting leaning up against the wall on my shelf of contemplative books downstairs. I'll be getting rid of a quite a few of these books soon as they keep my mind inside the little white box sipping tea with the so-called smarty pants. I want to get out into the trees.