My Experience of Beauty in Art by Meredith

My Experience of Beauty in Art by Meredith - February 2024 Scholarship Essay

An experience of beauty contrasts with the experience of learning facts because it allows for personal connection through emotion. Factual learning results in knowing attributes, data, and truths about something, whereas an experience with beauty is a personal encounter with the truth of something. Figuratively, beauty leads truth on a journey from the head to the heart. I unexpectedly confronted this reality on the World Youth Day pilgrimage in a little hidden church packed with people. This led me to pursue further education in art.
It was the fourth day my group was in Portugal, and we were seeking shade after a day of touring Lisbon. Early August weather for Lisbon meant 90-degree weather and humidity, which wore on patience, along with crowds and noise. After wandering around the city, we found ourselves in a small uphill alleyway. At the top of the alleyway, there was a church, hardly noticeable except for the World Youth Day banner, and the volunteers handing out water outside of it. We decided to refill our waters and impulsively went into the church to rest and pray for half an hour. The Church of St. Louis of the French was crowded, heightened by its small interior, and it was ghastly hot. Despite the heat and the sweat, this Church was beautiful; it had gothic features, ornate chandeliers, a carved marble high–altar, and plenty of paintings. We managed to find a pew in the back and settled down to pray. A line formed in the center aisle, and I did not quite understand why at the time, because I could not see what it led to. More people filed into the Church, and more people joined the line. A lector read a Bible passage in French. The people in the line slowly meandered to the front, and one of my group mates joined the line. Another passage in French was read, and the lector was barely heard over the chaos. A priest celebrated Mass alone at one of the side altars, people clamored in the back while evaluating the situation, two men argued in the front over a pew, and the unhurried line continued to the front. The priest consecrated the Host. A kneeler slammed and the lector started a hymn. The hymn started as low and inaudible humming, but eventually, the majority of the people within the Church joined in and it consumed the noise of the chaos. It was in French, and I understood nothing, but the harmonies echoed throughout the Church. The Church was immersed in this newfound unity, and the low tones of the verses washed into the high notes of the melody. Some sang in murmurs, others in loud voices, but neither more devoted than the other. The hymn demanded my entire attention, it was all I could hear and I held onto every note. It was so beautiful that it made my eyes well up. No instruments, only slow harmonies of people’s devoted voices.
I suddenly grew terrified of the approaching end of the song and immediately sought to contain the beauty. I immediately started to record the song on my phone, a little section no more than twenty seconds long. My fear was quelled, and the hymn faded.
Curiosity overtook me, and I joined the slow procession to the front. On my journey to the front, I reflected on the beauty of the hymn whose lyrics were a mystery to me. I knew the lyrics were simple and repetitive, and I could make out the occasional “Jesu”. But the lyrics did not matter. What mattered was the clear devotion to the voices of the singers, the sudden turn from chaos into unity, and the exchange between low and high harmonies. The love of God was evident enough through the beauty of the hymn. At the front I found myself looking at a first-class relic of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the little French Saint who inspired the singing.
After the pilgrimage, I became obsessed with finding the hymn again online, in an attempt to even partially recreate the beauty that I encountered. It took countless searches until I stumbled onto the hymn, “Je viens ver toi, Jésus”. I listened to it on repeat for a while, then I finally decided to translate the lyrics. The main melody is simple, “I am coming to you, Jesus.” One of the verses is “As clay lets itself be made in the agile hands of the potter, thus my soul lets itself be done, so my heart seeks you, my God.” Undoubtedly these lyrics are beautiful, but I did not need to learn the lyrics to know the intention of the hymn. I believe this represents the difference between factual learning and the experience of beauty.
This is why I would like to continue an education in art.