Tenielle Neda – Art & Theology

Roundup: Ants after Carnival, organic memento mori, “Turning” by Deanna Witkowski, and more

February 13, 2026 Victoria Emily JonesLeave a comment

Lent starts next Wednesday, February 18, so I want to remind you about my Lent Playlist on Spotify! There are plenty of songs for contemplative listening throughout the season. I periodically add new entries to the bottom. Recent additions include a song by Amanda Held Opelt about being in the belly of a whale; “Living Water” by Sr. Miriam Therese Winter of the Medical Mission Sisters; Paul Zach’s cover of Johnny Cash’s “The Beast in Me”; and a setting of Matthew 4:17 by Seth Thomas Crissman of The Soil and The Seed Project, whose parallel verse, Mark 1:15, is commonly recited with the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday.

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VIDEO ART: Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue) by Rivane Neuenschwander with Cao Guimarães: When visiting the Museum of Modern Art in New York last month, I encountered a video work from Brazil that I found mesmerizing. The Perez Art Museum Miami describes it this way:

In Rivane Neuenschwander’s video Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue), made in collaboration with artist Cao Guimarães, ants become the protagonists of a captivating journey. Shot on Ash Wednesday, after the end of Brazilian Carnival, the video follows a colony of leafcutter ants as they traverse the rough terrain of a forest floor, transporting pieces of colored confetti to their underground nest. The video is set to a digitally composed soundtrack that blends ambient natural sounds with the sound of matchsticks dropping onto the floor. At the video’s end, we watch the ants descend into the darkness of their nest, intent, perhaps, on furnishing a celebration of their own.

You can watch a one-minute clip from the nearly six-minute video on Guimarães’s website: https://www.caoguimaraes.com/en/obra/quarta-feira-de-cinzas/.

Originating in the Middle Ages, Carnival—from the Latin carve vale, meaning “flesh, farewell!” (flesh = meat)—is a period of merrymaking before the solemn restraints of Lent. It’s primarily a secular folk custom, celebrated by many with hedonistic parties involving excessive drinking. But Carnival need not be debauched, and some Christians celebrate it with social gatherings, games, parades, and/or food traditions. A Polish Catholic coworker of mine would always bring pączki (jelly donuts) to the office on Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras in French), the day before Ash Wednesday. Some churches host a pancake supper on that evening, using up eggs, milk, and sugar, ingredients that were historically forbidden during Lent, along with bacon and sausage. At The Liturgical Home, Ashley Tumlin Wallace describes Fat Tuesday as a transition day moving God’s people out of Epiphanytide.

Neuenschwander and Guimarães’s Ash Wednesday / Epilogue is, first and foremost, fun and playful. We don’t tend to think of insects having parties! I wonder what the ants are doing with those vibrant little metallized discs. But the video also, for me, captures something of the tone of the first day of Lent—a quiet sweeping up after the previous day’s festivities, the humans of this place having left their revelries to go to church, where they enter a time of penitence.

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BLOG POST: “Ash Wednesday” by Libby John: I really appreciated these four guided journal prompts that Libby John, founder of the Vivid Artistry creative collective, gave last Lent:

What is something in my life I am seeking for God to renew and restore?
What rhythms in my life need to be interrupted and reoriented to God’s heart for me?
What are some ways I can surrender my schedule to help attune my senses to more of God’s presence?
Am I bringing my whole self to God or do I divide and keep parts of my life from him?

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ARTICLE: “Anya Gallaccio’s Organic Mementos Mori” by Eliza Goodpasture, Hyperallergic: Rotting apples threaded with hanging twine, shriveling red daisies pressed between plexiglass, burning candles creating waxen landscapes on aluminum foil, a hundred-plus-year-old ash tree stricken with ash dieback disease—these were among the memento mori (reminders of death) installed at artist Anya Gallaccio’s exhibition preserve at Turner Contemporary in Margate, England, in fall 2024. “The potency of the transient works is so magnetic,” writes reviewer Eliza Goodpasture. “The Christian motif of dust to dust undergirds it all. . . . The artist reminds us that decay is full of energy—not just an ending, but part of an endless circle of life.”

Gallaccio, Anya_Falling from grace — Anya Gallaccio (Scottish, 1963–), *Falling from grace*, 2000. 2,700 Gala apples, hop twine. Installation view at Turner Contemporary, Margate, 2024. Photo: Jo Underhill, courtesy of the artist.

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SONGS:

>> “Turning” by Deanna Witkowski: Deanna Witkowski is a jazz composer and pianist living in Chicago. She originally wrote this choral piece for Lent, a season in which the liturgies call us to turn away from sin and toward God. That’s what repentance means: changing direction. The first verse is taken from Psalm 119:36–40. “Turn our hearts, O Lord, from selfish gain to your commandments . . .”

For a 2023 performance by the Hendricks Chapel Choir at Syracuse University, see here. Purchase the score here.

>> “Miraculous Salvation” by Tenielle Neda: This song by the Australian singer-songwriter Tenielle Neda praises God for the grace he lavishes on us and for his great love. Backing vocals are provided by Chris Cho.

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CAROL TEXT: “Revert, revert” by James Ryman, ca. 1492: Medievalist Eleanor Parker shares this Lenten carol text by the fifteenth-century Franciscan friar James Ryman, from Cambridge University Library MS Ee 1.12. The burden (repeated stanza) is “Revert, revert, revert, revert; / O sinful man, give me thine heart”—an echo of Isaiah 44:22, “Return to me, for I have redeemed you.” Written in Christ’s voice, it calls us to remember how he took on our flesh, was baptized, and was flogged and crucified for our sakes. I think the shield in stanza 3 refers to the cross; the Via Dolorosa was a battlefield on which Christ fought the devil, and paradoxically, the instrument of his execution was the means of victory.

Roundup: Nativity art from Asia, the Christ Hymn in Thai, and more

December 22, 2023December 22, 2023 Victoria Emily Jones3 Comments

ARTICLES:

>> “How Asian Artists Picture Jesus’ Birth from 1240 to Today” by Victoria Emily Jones, December 18, 2023, Christianity Today: My first CT article was published this week! I was asked to curate and introduce a sampling of Nativity art from across Asia. By representing Jesus as Japanese, Indonesian, or what have you, these artists convey a sense of God’s immanence, his “with-us–ness,” for their own communities—and for everyone else, the universality of Christ’s birth.

Turun, I Wayan_In Bethlehem — I Wayan Turun (Indonesian, 1935–1986), *In Bethlehem*, 1958. Acrylic on canvas, 46 × 64 cm. Collection of Stichting Zendingserfgoed (Missionary Heritage Foundation), Zuidland, Netherlands.

>> “The Story of Christ in Chinese Art: Scholars at Peking University Make a Christmas Portfolio for LIFE,” Life, December 22, 1941, pp. 40–49: In doing research for my Christianity Today article, I found this old article from Life magazine that features eight Chinese watercolors on silk from the collection of Dr. William Bacon Pettus (1880–1959), an American educator and president of the California College of Chinese Studies in Peking (Beijing) in the 1920s and ’30s, which were being exhibited at New York’s American Bible Society at the time. With the ordination of six Chinese bishops by Pope Pius XI in 1926, the Chinese Catholic Church was transitioning from a mission church to an indigenous local church, and Chinese-style religious art—much of it coming out of the art department of the new Catholic University of Peking (Beiping Furen Daxue)—was part of that localization. Productivity seems to have continued at Furen during the Japanese occupation, as this article attests. Many of the students and faculty were recent converts to Christianity, though the article reports that non-Christians also enrolled and taught in the art program.

Lu Hongnian_Nativity — Lu Hongnian (Lu Hung-nien) ( 陸鴻年) (Chinese, 1914–1989), *The Birth of Jesus*, ca. 1941. Chinese watercolor on silk.

Here is one of the paintings by Lu Hongnian, who sometime after this article was published, in part through his having engaged the New Testament as inspiration for his paintings, became a Christian and took the name John. It shows the Holy Family in a mountainside cave, Mary gazing adoringly at her newborn son as Joseph brings more straw to cushion him. Beside them, an angel holds up a lantern for light, while two shepherd children approach from the entrance, eager to meet their Savior.

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SONGS:

>> “Philippians 2:5–11” by HARK Music: This song takes a traditional Thai melody, arranged by Tirasip Kraitirangul, and puts it to a Thai translation of the famous Christ Hymn from Philippians 2. It’s performed by the HARK Duriya Tasana Singers (feat. Somchairak Sriket and Damrongsak Monprasit) and Dancers, filmed on location at Chaloem Kanchanaphisek Park in Bangkok. The song is from HARK’s Thai Hymns Album (2014), which can be downloaded for free at https://harkpublications.com/?product=thai-hymns-album-2. The two-stringed bowed instrument you see at 3:21 is a saw u.

The Duriya Tasana (“Curators of the Arts”) ensemble was formed in 2012 under the commission of the Thai-Psalms Project, an endeavor to create Thai traditional and classical music settings for the psalms of the Bible. Many of the members are affiliated with the Bunditpatanasilpa Institute of Fine Arts in Bangkok. Thanks to my friend Janet, whose sister is preparing a move to Thailand, for alerting me to this group!

>> “Jesus You Come” by Tenielle Neda, performed with Jon Guerra: This song by the Australian singer-songwriter Tenielle Neda [previously], which she sings with Jon Guerra, makes a nice complement to the Thai song above. The performance is from “Songs for Hope: A TGC Advent Concert” on December 6, 2020.

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MIDDLE ENGLISH LULLABY: “As I lay upon a night”: Medievalist Eleanor Parker introduces a charming Christmas lullaby from fourteenth-century England, a dialogue between Mary and the Christ child, and provides a modern English translation of its thirty-seven stanzas. In the Middle Ages, says Rosemary Woolf, the subject matter of lullabies was often a prophecy of the baby’s future—presumably a romantic promise of great and happy achievements. But here it is the child who relates the future to his mother, thus providing the material for his own lullaby.

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ART VIDEO: “Third Sunday of Advent: Ethiopian Art: Gospel Book” by James Romaine: Every December, my friend James Romaine, an art historian who teaches at Lander University, publishes four videos on his Seeing Art History YouTube channel related to the themes of the season, part of his annual Art for Advent series. This year he’s chosen to focus on Ethiopian art, covering illuminations from two different manuscripts, a diptych icon, and a rock-hewn church.

In this video Romaine discusses the formal qualities of two paintings from a sixteenth-century Ethiopian Gospel-book, the identity of the figures, and the liturgical context of the book, including the use of the red veil that’s attached at the top, which, Romaine says, “both protects and sanctifies the icon,” creating a sense of anticipation for the Orthodox believer who, in faith, lifts the veil to see what is revealed.

Lent, Day 2

March 3, 2022September 19, 2023 Victoria Emily Jones2 Comments

LOOK: Canyon by Augustus Vincent Tack

Tack, Augustus Vincent_Canyon — Augustus Vincent Tack (American, 1870–1949), *Canyon*, ca. 1923–24. Oil on canvas mounted on plywood panel, 29 × 40 in. (73.7 × 101.6 cm). The Phillips Collection, Washington, DC.

LISTEN: “Valley of Vision” | Words by Arthur Bennett, 1975 | Music by Tenielle Neda, 2019

The text of this song is taken from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, compiled and edited by Arthur Bennett (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1975) from various seventeenth- through nineteenth-century sources. (Learn more about this wonderful little prayerbook here.) The opening prayer—the only one written by the editor—is titled “The Valley of Vision,” and it appears in the book as follows:

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
      where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
      hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.
Let me learn by paradox
      that the way down is the way up,
      that to be low is to be high,
      that the broken heart is the healed heart,
      that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
      that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
      that to have nothing is to possess all,
      that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
      that to give is to receive,
      that the valley is the place of vision.
Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
      and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;
Let me find thy light in my darkness,
                     thy life in my death,
                     thy joy in my sorrow,
                     thy grace in my sin,
                     thy riches in my poverty,
                     thy glory in my valley.

The title of this prayer and its musical setting comes from the heading that is Isaiah 22:1: “The burden of the valley of vision.” The valley here refers to Jerusalem, a city located in the middle of a range of low mountains (it’s surrounded by seven peaks higher than itself) and a seat of divine revelation—where prophetic visions were given, and where God manifested himself in the temple. And in the context of the chapter, “burden” means a mournful oracle, as Isaiah warns of Jerusalem’s destruction.

Bennett extracts the phrase “valley of vision” from the Isaiah context, using it as a metaphor for the low, dark places where we can see God most clearly. “The way down is the way up,” he writes—one of the several paradoxes of the Christian faith. In God’s kingdom the lowly are uplifted; to admit defeat is to win the victory; and to die is to live.

Author Edna Hong refers to Lent as a “downward ascent” in which we go down into the depths of ourselves, acknowledging our fragility and examining and confessing our sins, in order that we might rise anew with Christ, with a refreshed understanding and experience of his love, power, and grace. May you find that refreshment this Lenten season. May your vision of God and self come into clearer, more glorious focus.