Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 136
Another factor that militates against free artistic creativity in ISKCON and comparable
groups is the organization‘s foundational philosophy of transcendence: We are not of this
physical body or material world, and therefore we must forever be diverting our attention
away from the things of this world. Although the natural world is theoretically connected to
God through his original act of cosmic creation, and although the world is in some sense an
extension of his divine energies, we must not allow it to charm and please too deeply. Even
though the enlightened sage sees Krishna in every aspect of his creation, the not-yet-
enlightened devotee is cautioned not to ponder too closely the ephemeral things of this
temporal world, however they might dazzle and delight. Beholding a majestic tree or a
beautiful flower without the proper enlightened perspective or interior theological narrative
is a mere act of ―sense gratification,‖ a wasteful, ego-centered indulgence that distracts the
mind from its true object of contemplation: God. The artist, presumably one who attempts
to approach the sensory world with a certain openness and freshness of vision, unbound by
rigid orthodoxies of thought and sense, will likely feel ill at ease within an institutional
setting that takes great pains to define what is real and what is not, what is meaningful and
what is not, what is beautiful and what is not.
I am not negating the possibility that, in some ultimate metaphysical context, individual
consciousness (or spirit, or soul) exists independently, not only of the physical body but also
of all temporal psychological states (the constructed, evolving ego). In fact, I find the idea
both intellectually attractive and spiritually therapeutic. But it is clear that in practice,
among young Westerners living communally in Hindu ashrams, such abstract, ontological
principles, poorly understood and imperfectly digested, translate into a hard and unforgiving
asceticism that encourages an unhealthy denial of individual identity a negation of personal
needs, desires, and inclinations and a progressive deafening to one‘s own emotional states
and personal intuitions.
************
―Sense gratification‖ is, as I learned in ISKCON, the great enemy of Krishna Consciousness.
To engage in the pleasures of the material world is to be dragged into illusion, to lose the
self-mastery necessary for surrender to Krishna. Off-bounds not only were the obvious
things like sex and drugs, but also music, movies, literature, fine art. However exalted or
refined such art forms might appear, they are in actuality the self-indulgent outpouring of
the illusioned souls of this material world, the siren song of Maya (illusion personified)
herself (note the gender assignation), appearing in an infinity of alluring shapes and forms.
Music (unless composed for and about Krishna) is merely a mundane cacophony that
pollutes consciousness. Paintings, unless they depict Krishna and his world, merely
document the mundane world and material states of consciousness. Literature, if not about
Krishna and his divine acts (or that of the gurus, saints, etc.), is useless drivel. To be a true
devotee following the strictest standards of Krishna consciousness is to ignore and repudiate
all these expressions of mundane illusion.
Small scraps might be salvaged from that massive heap of worldly creative product if they
served our purposes. Such found items could be accepted, even endorsed, if Krishna was
somehow present, such as in George Harrison‘s song ―My Sweet Lord,‖ which featured the
Hare Krishna mantra. Occasionally, Swami Bhaktivedanta, ISKCON‘s founder, would quote a
line or two from some poet if he felt that it illustrated some aspect of his teachings. We
could, on one occasion I recall, reprint a famous painting by William Blake to illustrate an
article in our Back to Godhead magazine, because it seemed to depict, however imperfectly,
the soul crossing over from the material world into the spiritual realm.
Although occasionally we might make distinctions and judgments concerning the relative
merit of a particular work of art (based on the traditional Hindu model of sattva, rajas, and
tamas—goodness, passion, and ignorance), the arts of this material world are all,
Another factor that militates against free artistic creativity in ISKCON and comparable
groups is the organization‘s foundational philosophy of transcendence: We are not of this
physical body or material world, and therefore we must forever be diverting our attention
away from the things of this world. Although the natural world is theoretically connected to
God through his original act of cosmic creation, and although the world is in some sense an
extension of his divine energies, we must not allow it to charm and please too deeply. Even
though the enlightened sage sees Krishna in every aspect of his creation, the not-yet-
enlightened devotee is cautioned not to ponder too closely the ephemeral things of this
temporal world, however they might dazzle and delight. Beholding a majestic tree or a
beautiful flower without the proper enlightened perspective or interior theological narrative
is a mere act of ―sense gratification,‖ a wasteful, ego-centered indulgence that distracts the
mind from its true object of contemplation: God. The artist, presumably one who attempts
to approach the sensory world with a certain openness and freshness of vision, unbound by
rigid orthodoxies of thought and sense, will likely feel ill at ease within an institutional
setting that takes great pains to define what is real and what is not, what is meaningful and
what is not, what is beautiful and what is not.
I am not negating the possibility that, in some ultimate metaphysical context, individual
consciousness (or spirit, or soul) exists independently, not only of the physical body but also
of all temporal psychological states (the constructed, evolving ego). In fact, I find the idea
both intellectually attractive and spiritually therapeutic. But it is clear that in practice,
among young Westerners living communally in Hindu ashrams, such abstract, ontological
principles, poorly understood and imperfectly digested, translate into a hard and unforgiving
asceticism that encourages an unhealthy denial of individual identity a negation of personal
needs, desires, and inclinations and a progressive deafening to one‘s own emotional states
and personal intuitions.
************
―Sense gratification‖ is, as I learned in ISKCON, the great enemy of Krishna Consciousness.
To engage in the pleasures of the material world is to be dragged into illusion, to lose the
self-mastery necessary for surrender to Krishna. Off-bounds not only were the obvious
things like sex and drugs, but also music, movies, literature, fine art. However exalted or
refined such art forms might appear, they are in actuality the self-indulgent outpouring of
the illusioned souls of this material world, the siren song of Maya (illusion personified)
herself (note the gender assignation), appearing in an infinity of alluring shapes and forms.
Music (unless composed for and about Krishna) is merely a mundane cacophony that
pollutes consciousness. Paintings, unless they depict Krishna and his world, merely
document the mundane world and material states of consciousness. Literature, if not about
Krishna and his divine acts (or that of the gurus, saints, etc.), is useless drivel. To be a true
devotee following the strictest standards of Krishna consciousness is to ignore and repudiate
all these expressions of mundane illusion.
Small scraps might be salvaged from that massive heap of worldly creative product if they
served our purposes. Such found items could be accepted, even endorsed, if Krishna was
somehow present, such as in George Harrison‘s song ―My Sweet Lord,‖ which featured the
Hare Krishna mantra. Occasionally, Swami Bhaktivedanta, ISKCON‘s founder, would quote a
line or two from some poet if he felt that it illustrated some aspect of his teachings. We
could, on one occasion I recall, reprint a famous painting by William Blake to illustrate an
article in our Back to Godhead magazine, because it seemed to depict, however imperfectly,
the soul crossing over from the material world into the spiritual realm.
Although occasionally we might make distinctions and judgments concerning the relative
merit of a particular work of art (based on the traditional Hindu model of sattva, rajas, and
tamas—goodness, passion, and ignorance), the arts of this material world are all,
