From the occult esoterica of Aleister Crowley to ancient Buddhist story banners depicting the life of the Buddha, Rachael Kohn visits two current Victorian exhibitions which show the very different roles that art can play in spiritual life.

‘Just call me Little Sunshine,’ Aleister Crowley was purported to have said when he was asked about the number 666 emblazoned on his red cloak.

The ‘magick’ enthusiast dubbed ‘the wickedest man in the world’, Crowley (1875-1947) was easily identified with ‘the Beast’ of the Book of Revelation, whose number is 666. He had an explanation, however: in pre-Christian mythologies and in the mystical system of the Cabalah, 666 was associated with the sun.

[Aleister Crowley] understood that art was spirituality. It is not all these systems that we are told to buy into or forced to be indoctrinated in. Robert Buratti, Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery

Either way, Robert Buratti, curator of the Windows to the Sacred exhibition at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery, believes that the two Crowley artworks he has on show are testament to the original intention of art as a ritual of spiritual freedom. According to Buratti, the surrealist movement founded by Andre Breton also believed in art as a window to the sacred.

‘They said: “What are we on this earth to achieve? What is our true will as an artist to do? Organised religion has let us down. They can only take us so far. Money can only take us so far. So what are we going to actually achieve on this earth to get us to the next level of freedom?” It comes back to art.’

Buratti, who is a member of the esoteric art guild Collective 777, believes that artists were originally spiritual explorers and practitioners who found a way to uncover higher planes of existence utilising magic and shamanistic practices that go back to the priests of Egyptian religion.

That idea seems at odds with the religious art that graces the walls of cathedrals and chapels, with altar pieces specially commissioned by bishops to inspire the faithful at their prayers. Buratti describes this kind of artwork as ‘more a decorative function of architecture’ which is intended to ‘inspire the masses’, and suggests it represents a devolution from the original role of art as an exercise in subjectivity.

He owes much to Crowley, who rejected his Christian heritage and Plymouth Brethren upbringing in his early twenties and joined the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. The order was devoted to the study and practise of the occult arts and attracted other well-known people in the arts, such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, William Butler Yeats and his wife Maud Gonne.

In the early 1900s, Crowley co-founded the Thelemite Order in order to propagate his own religion, Thelema, which promoted the belief that humanity was about to enter the Aeon of Horus. Its chief tenet was ‘do what though wilt’. Crowley covered the Abbey of Thelema in Cefalu, Sicily with his erotically charged esoteric art. Two of the artworks on show at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery were produced there.

‘He was quite inspired by Paul Gaugin, who did exactly the same thing when he disappeared to Tahiti for many years and set up La Maison du Jouir, the House of Carnal Pleasure, and literally consecrated the house to this new way of living, this new way of seeing the world,’ says Buratti. ‘Crowley did exactly that.’

It was also in Sicily that Crowley’s new religion ran into trouble. Scandalous rumours, at least one unexplained death and bad press eventually led to Crowley being expelled from Italy.

Sex, magic, drug taking, and public controversies kept Crowley in the news for most of his life and on the road travelling around Europe and America. Yet he continued to paint and wrote a great deal, which meant that his ideas became highly influential, especially in the art world.

While his influence was obvious in the art of ‘the Kings Cross witch’, Rosaleen Norton, the esoteric art tradition can also be seen in the work of Australia’s leading surrealist painter, James Gleeson.

‘He understood that art was spirituality,’ says Buratti. ‘It is not all these systems that we are told to buy into or forced to be indoctrinated in. It is actually pure freedom, which comes from within you, and the greatest way you can express it is through creativity.’

The view that the sacred is ‘pure freedom’ would not be shared by the world’s religions, who see constraining freedom or channelling it into morally prescribed practices as part of their role.

That role is also evident in the Gods Heroes and Clowns exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria. Carol Cains, the gallery’s curator of Asian art, has once again delivered a visual feast drawn from the great Hindu and Buddhist epics.

The exhibition focuses on beautifully painted story banners from Thailand, Indonesia and Cambodia, which tell stories of titanic battles and great acts of renunciation in order to gain spiritual purity, transcendence and wisdom.

The largest and most ethereal story banner, which covers three walls, is a masterpiece from Thailand near the Cambodian border. It tells one of the popular jatakas— tales of the Buddha’s life prior to his enlightenment. Demonstrating the supreme act of charity, the previous incarnation of the Buddha, Prince Vessantara, gives away his white elephant, his chariot, his horses, his children and his wife. These last two acts of ‘charity’ have become a source of much contemporary debate in Thailand.

Among the works at the exhibition is a contemporary sculpture by a Cambodian, Svay Sareth, who grew up in a refugee camp on the Thai/Lao border, which questions the continued reverence for traditional Buddhist narratives such as this extreme version of charity.

‘Much in the same way that the villagers interpret the story and re-enact it, he is interpreting the story and he’s re-enacting it through the lens of his own experiences,’ says curator Carol Cains. ‘Was Vessantara really able to give away his children? Was that what he should have been doing as a father?’

What’s clear is that no matter what religious or esoteric tradition you subscribe to, whether you’re devoted or critical, art can be a spiritual practice.

Art as a spiritual practice Sunday 24 May 2015 Listen to the full episode of The Spirit of Things to hear more about art inspired by the esoteric ideas of occultist Aleister Crowley. More This [series episode segment] has

The Spirit of Things explores contemporary values and beliefs as expressed through ritual, art, music and sacred texts, and focusing on the nature of spiritual meaning in our lives.