Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 123
Of Urinals and Dark Forces:
An Essay about Harmful Cult Influence on an Artist
Joseph Szimhart
Abstract
This essay discusses cultic influences that affected my career as an artist in
the late 1970s. I adopt a suggestion by researcher Ellen Dissanayake that a
―behavior of art‖ means ―aesthetic making special.‖ Dissanayake argues for a
biological or evolutionary basis for the aesthetic impulse. That impulse to
survive through art led to my desire to find the essence of creative inspiration
in Theosophy and its sects because the Modern artists I emulated had
pursued Theosophical ideas. My discussion of harmful effects centers primarily
on a cult headed by Elizabeth C. Prophet. I also discuss related influences
from G. I. Gurdjieff and Nicholas Roerich.
Junkyards and ―ready-made‖ objects are great resources for modern artists. A famous piece
from the Dada movement is a white ceramic urinal signed ―R. Mutt‖ and called Fountain.
Exhibited by Marcel Duchamp in 1917, it is worth more than three million dollars today.
What was anti-art yesterday has become art history today. Duchamp coined ―ready-made‖
for his out-of-context displays of manufactured objects. Another example was an upside-
down bicycle wheel mounted on a pedestal. Duchamp intended to challenge the orthodox
conception of art. He was not looking to make a fortune, but he did get away with a radical
statement. He made art history.
―Art is anything you can get away with,‖ wrote Marshall McLuhan in 1967. That quote has
stayed with me since I first read it in McLuhan‘s book The Medium is the Massage. For me,
McLuhan meant that if it sells, it is art for the buyer. And it might not have to sell for
money. It might merely be bought into, as when an art critic applauds something special
long before the viewing public appreciates it. Critical acclaim helps to influence the buying
crowd. I can imagine a modern art museum selling miniature plastic knock-offs of R. Mutt
urinals. In any case, Duchamp aestheticised a common object and transformed it into a cult
object, if only for the modern art collector.
Maybe religion is that way, too. What begins as an ordinary vision or dream becomes
prophecy in a sacred matrix or narrative. My working idea for this paper is that religions and
cults emerge from an aesthetic impulse to make sense of and project meaning on our
physical and mental environments. We make something special when we create art
(Dissanayake, 1999), and, in my view, religion. We make a transcendental idea or
experience special by surrounding it with myth, ritual, and devotion. The form and activity it
takes is the cult or religion. To me, this is similar to a creative impulse that must risk
manifestation in form to succeed or fail—to be realized, to mean something, to live or die.
Like new art that seems radical, new religious movements can shake up the stodgy
establishment and make a mark in history. As time moves on, the successful radical group
might become the established religion. There are thousands of cults that inform new
religions and inspire old ones. Our religious landscape features a complex riddle of
cosmologies and theologies, with some outstanding examples that range from the sublime
to the terrifying to the ridiculous.
So-called ―new‖ religious movements or cults often recycle or respecialize old ideas and
rituals. Most common are the incarnation of an avatar or reappearance of Christ and
techniques for ecstasy. Body movements in the world of Gurdjieff, the founder of the Fourth
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