Posted by Robert Sagers
This is the fourth (and final) installment of an interview with writer and musician Andrew Peterson. For a bit of context, see part I of the interview (and part II and part III).
...
RES: You’ve produced ten albums. Which has been the most satisfying, and why? Which has been the most frustrating, and why? What has the Lord taught you through both experiences?
AP: I know this is an overused answer, but it really is like asking which of your children is your favorite. Every album is fraught with frustration, both financial and creative. Several times during the making of every album I have questioned my career choice, my gifting, my sanity. On the other hand (sometimes only minutes later) I have experienced bliss in the camaraderie, or when a song suddenly becomes more than the sum of its parts. And later, elation when you hear from someone that they were moved by it and you know your labor was not in vain. I approach the making of every album with fear and trembling.
RES: What is the process that you go through in writing a song? In other words, is there anything in particular that you do to “get in the zone,” or is it more a matter of living life, observing people, and working as inspiration hits? How does that differ from the process that you go through when you’re writing a blog post, or even a book?
AP: When the book is finished and I can focus my energy on songs again, I start by getting the guitar out of the case. I lean it against the wall. It stares at me while I eat dinner. I begin to remember how I used to ride my bike a mile to my friend Lance’s house and beg him to lend me his dad’s Harmony guitar. When my begging worked I’d wobble home with one hand on the handlebar and one carrying the old black case. I’d sit in my bedroom for hours, playing along with Lynyrd Skynyrd songs till the tape wore out. Now I have my own guitar (and a pretty nice one at that). I can play it whenever I want, but I usually don’t until I remember how much I love it. Then when I’m sure the rest of the family is fast asleep I pick up the guitar, pretend I'm thirteen again, and hope to make something pretty. Most of the time it ain’t pretty. But sometimes, when the barometric pressure is right, the moon is high, and I’ve eaten my Wheaties, songs are born.
I usually start with something to say, some idea I had and scribbled in my journal, but many times the song becomes something else entirely. I used to fight that, but I don’t anymore. It’s very different from writing a book. A book is a nine-to-five job, and requires as much endurance as creativity. When the album is finished and it’s time to work on a book, I put away the guitar and spend my mornings at the local coffee shop for a few months. I’m pretty sure I keep them in business.
RES: You have three children. Please tell us about your family devotions—is there anything specific that you try to do, and anything that you want to avoid?
AP: After the kitchen is clean and the jammies are on, we read a Bible story (we love The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones), then we read the next chapter in whatever book we’re working through (right now we’re enjoying 100 Cupboards by N.D. Wilson). Then we pray. We don’t call it “devotions.” Reading time is just as much a part of our day as throwing the Frisbee or watching the “Twilight Zone.”
RES: Why are you writing books for children? Please tell us about On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness and the forthcoming novel, North! Or Be Eaten.
AP: As for why I’m writing books for children, allow me to quote myself (from a Rabbit Room blog last week): “Those of us who write, who sing, who paint, must remember that to a child a song may glow like a nightlight in a scary bedroom. It may be the only thing holding back the monsters. That story may be the only beautiful, true thing that makes it through all the ugliness of a little girl’s world to rest in her secret heart. May we take that seriously. It is our job, it is our ministry, it is the sword we swing in the Kingdom, to remind children that the good guys win, that the stories are true, and that a fool’s hope may be the best kind.”
These books follow the adventures of twelve-year-old Janner Igiby and his brother and sister. In the first book they discover that their quiet little town is anything but quiet, and that their lives are more important than they could ever imagine. In the second book they’re running for their lives, and learning to live with the truth of who they are. Of course, there are swords, sea dragons, toothy cows (the horror!) and bumpy digtoads (which are too loathsome to describe in this esteemed blog).
The Wingfeather Saga is my attempt to tell a great story, one that children and adults alike will enjoy and be comforted by. North! Or Be Eaten, as the title implies, isn’t a safe story. There’s quite a bit of danger and darkness, but I hope it only serves to make the beauty shine brighter.
RES: Which musicians do you think really “get it,” and why?
AP: I’m truly a fan of every member of the Square Peg Alliance (Ben Shive, Andy Gullahorn, Jill Phillips, Eric Peters, Jeremy Casella, Randall Goodgame, Andrew Osenga, and Derek Webb). Other than that, I’d suggest Pierce Pettis, Jason Gray, and of course the late, great Rich Mullins. What I love about these artists is their commitment to excellence, and to telling the truth well, regardless of what's driving the market.
RES: What counsel would you give a Christian who is considering being an artist?
AP: Do your very best to not write bad songs. Care about the craft. Be objective. Be discontent with your first try. Be discontent with your fifth try. Aspire to create art that will last.
RES: Thank you again for your graciousness in taking the time to answer these questions! May the Lord bless you in your ministry as you seek to exalt Christ in your songs, your writings, and your life.
Showing posts with label Andrew Peterson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andrew Peterson. Show all posts
Friday, August 07, 2009
Interview with Andrew Peterson, Part III
Posted by Robert Sagers
This is the third installment of an interview with writer and musician Andrew Peterson. For a bit of context, see part I of the interview (and part II).
...
RES: Your music emphasizes two truths of the gospel that can sometimes be neglected in our churches—the resurrection of Christ and the future redemption of all things. What role does the resurrection of Jesus play in your music and writing? In what way does the longing for the new creation help you to communicate the message of the gospel to your listeners and readers?
AP: I don’t know why, but I sing about Heaven a lot. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I sharpened the focus a little to focus on the Resurrection itself. Part of that was reading Randy Alcorn’s Heaven and realizing the Bible has more to say about the subject than I realized. Part of it was my last album The Far Country, which drew on much of C.S. Lewis’s ideas about Heaven in The Great Divorce and The Weight of Glory. I was saddened to hear one of my favorite authors say he wasn’t sure Jesus’ resurrection was bodily, that he resurrected “in some sense,” but he wasn’t sure what. I almost fell over. The Bible is clear that it was a bodily resurrection, and if it wasn’t so, we’re to be pitied among men. The early church put a lot of stake in it. But it’s a part of the Gospel story that doesn’t seem to get as much attention as the crucifixion. Yes, Jesus atoned for our sins on the cross, but—hallelujah!—the story doesn’t end there. Jesus inhaled. He didn’t just appease God’s wrath, he defeated Death. He didn’t just save us from something, but for something—for an unbroken world, fellowship with the King, a life of good work without thorn and thistle to frustrate and confound. And that’s good news.
RES: Many of this blog’s readers are serving in vocational ministry, or are training to do so. Some are pastors, or hope someday to be pastors. How can a proper grasp of the narrative aspect of the Scriptures help aid the proclamation of the gospel in a way that captivates an audience, while at the same time allowing the preacher to communicate with clarity that the story is so good specifically because the story is so true?
AP: As I said, I grew up in the church. I went to Sunday school, VBS, church camp, Wednesday night Bible study—the whole shebang. But it wasn’t until my freshman year of Bible college, in an Old Testament survey class, that the light bulb finally went on. It was the first time I realized the Bible is telling one big story, and that story is the one God is telling with history. My love of fiction, of film, even of comic books began to make sense through that lens. What I had always loved about those stories was the Story, seen in glimpses, felt with goosebumps and lumps in the throat that I couldn’t explain. G.K. Chesterton said no man ever entered a brothel who wasn’t looking for God. Well, no one ever walked into a movie theater or read a novel who wasn’t hungry for the Gospel.
RES: What role does community play in your music and writing?
AP: I’m honored to be part of a group of comrades called the Square Peg Alliance. We’re all Nashville folks, Christians and songwriters who for one reason or another have found ourselves unable to fit into either the typical CCM mold or the mainstream one. We tour together as often as we can, and genuinely believe in each other’s music. I’m a better writer for having shared life with these friends, others who care about the Kingdom, their craft, about doing more with their music than just selling records (though that’s always nice).
I also started a community blog called the Rabbit Room, which is basically an online version of the back room of the pub where C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and their writer buddies used to hang out and read stories. We have a few authors, pastors, and songwriters who write about whatever’s on their minds. Some great friendships were born, which may in the long run be the greatest benefit of the Rabbit Room and the Alliance. I’m certain our relationships will outlive the finest songs and books we’ll ever write.
...
This is the third installment of an interview with writer and musician Andrew Peterson. For a bit of context, see part I of the interview (and part II).
...
RES: Your music emphasizes two truths of the gospel that can sometimes be neglected in our churches—the resurrection of Christ and the future redemption of all things. What role does the resurrection of Jesus play in your music and writing? In what way does the longing for the new creation help you to communicate the message of the gospel to your listeners and readers?
AP: I don’t know why, but I sing about Heaven a lot. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I sharpened the focus a little to focus on the Resurrection itself. Part of that was reading Randy Alcorn’s Heaven and realizing the Bible has more to say about the subject than I realized. Part of it was my last album The Far Country, which drew on much of C.S. Lewis’s ideas about Heaven in The Great Divorce and The Weight of Glory. I was saddened to hear one of my favorite authors say he wasn’t sure Jesus’ resurrection was bodily, that he resurrected “in some sense,” but he wasn’t sure what. I almost fell over. The Bible is clear that it was a bodily resurrection, and if it wasn’t so, we’re to be pitied among men. The early church put a lot of stake in it. But it’s a part of the Gospel story that doesn’t seem to get as much attention as the crucifixion. Yes, Jesus atoned for our sins on the cross, but—hallelujah!—the story doesn’t end there. Jesus inhaled. He didn’t just appease God’s wrath, he defeated Death. He didn’t just save us from something, but for something—for an unbroken world, fellowship with the King, a life of good work without thorn and thistle to frustrate and confound. And that’s good news.
RES: Many of this blog’s readers are serving in vocational ministry, or are training to do so. Some are pastors, or hope someday to be pastors. How can a proper grasp of the narrative aspect of the Scriptures help aid the proclamation of the gospel in a way that captivates an audience, while at the same time allowing the preacher to communicate with clarity that the story is so good specifically because the story is so true?
AP: As I said, I grew up in the church. I went to Sunday school, VBS, church camp, Wednesday night Bible study—the whole shebang. But it wasn’t until my freshman year of Bible college, in an Old Testament survey class, that the light bulb finally went on. It was the first time I realized the Bible is telling one big story, and that story is the one God is telling with history. My love of fiction, of film, even of comic books began to make sense through that lens. What I had always loved about those stories was the Story, seen in glimpses, felt with goosebumps and lumps in the throat that I couldn’t explain. G.K. Chesterton said no man ever entered a brothel who wasn’t looking for God. Well, no one ever walked into a movie theater or read a novel who wasn’t hungry for the Gospel.
RES: What role does community play in your music and writing?
AP: I’m honored to be part of a group of comrades called the Square Peg Alliance. We’re all Nashville folks, Christians and songwriters who for one reason or another have found ourselves unable to fit into either the typical CCM mold or the mainstream one. We tour together as often as we can, and genuinely believe in each other’s music. I’m a better writer for having shared life with these friends, others who care about the Kingdom, their craft, about doing more with their music than just selling records (though that’s always nice).
I also started a community blog called the Rabbit Room, which is basically an online version of the back room of the pub where C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and their writer buddies used to hang out and read stories. We have a few authors, pastors, and songwriters who write about whatever’s on their minds. Some great friendships were born, which may in the long run be the greatest benefit of the Rabbit Room and the Alliance. I’m certain our relationships will outlive the finest songs and books we’ll ever write.
...
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Interview with Andrew Peterson, Part II
Posted by Robert Sagers
This is the second installment of an interview with writer and musician Andrew Peterson. For a bit of context, see part I of the interview.
...
RES: In his spiritual autobiography, Surprised by Joy, C. S. Lewis makes this remark: “I think that all things, in their way, reflect heavenly truth, the imagination not least.” What role do you think that imagination plays in the life of the church? How do you seek to engage the imagination of your hearers and readers in your music and writing?
AP: I remember feeling something when I was a kid. It’s this tickle behind your bellybutton, a sense that you’re brushing up against something magical. I had it all the time when I played with my G.I. Joe toys, when I read Voyage of the Dawn Treader, whenever I drew the first line of a new picture in my sketchbook, when I traipsed through the woods and came upon a rabbit or a snake in the grass. It’s the feeling that you’re being watched, the sudden, awful realization that you’re not alone. I get the feeling sometimes when I’m at Disney with my children, and when I’m at a wedding and we stand as the bride walks the aisle. Sometimes I feel it during communion. That feeling comes less and less the older you get, if you’re not careful to keep it alive. The world is full of surprises. It’s both scarier and more wonderful than you think. All these things prepare the heart for the jarring truth that there is an invisible Other, and He’s watching you. “Believe,” Jesus said, again and again, and that’s hard to do with a dead imagination.
RES: You describe yourself first and foremost as a storyteller—that you have the listener in mind when you write your songs. What do you mean by this, and what is it about stories that so resonate with the soul?
AP: What drives me isn’t just a love of music, but of connection. I’ve never been content to write a song, put it away, and never play it for a soul. As soon as it’s finished I want to play it for someone and see if it resonates. It doesn’t always happen, but it’s thrilling when it does. Frederick Buechner said, “The story of one of us is the story of us all.” I believe that. If I can tell my story well, there’s a good chance that at least someone out there will recognize their own. And maybe they’ll be better able to believe the Gospel story when they hear it.
RES: You’ve said that you hope that people would come away from your concerts “feeling less alone.” In a world in which people have more access to others than perhaps ever before—and with mediums like email, instant messaging, and social networking (Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, etc.)—why do you think that people might still feel so alone? What hope do you wish to communicate to such men and women?
AP: I think Facebook is our culture’s answer to the disappearance of the close-knit, small town community. Finding out on Facebook that so-and-so has a cold, or stubbed their toe, or is reading a certain book is the 21st Century equivalent of strolling the town square or having pancakes in the diner. It’s small talk. And small talk is okay. You wouldn’t necessarily call your friend to find out if his toe got stubbed; it’s just nice to know. The thing is, even small towns have secrets. I know because I grew up in one. There were murders. Suicides. There was bigotry and alcoholism and despair. Beneath the surface is the same darkness you see on the news in big cities and war-torn countries. Small talk doesn’t address that secret loneliness. Neither does marriage, for that matter. Only Christ can. Only he has the power to step in and throw back the curtains.
RES: What role does pain and suffering play in your music and writing? To quote loosely your song, “Faith to Be Strong,” how can the sorrow we feel bring freedom?
AP: I hope pain and suffering play the same role as joy and peace. They’re all a part of our experience, so they deserve attention in the stories and songs we write.
...
This is the second installment of an interview with writer and musician Andrew Peterson. For a bit of context, see part I of the interview.
...
RES: In his spiritual autobiography, Surprised by Joy, C. S. Lewis makes this remark: “I think that all things, in their way, reflect heavenly truth, the imagination not least.” What role do you think that imagination plays in the life of the church? How do you seek to engage the imagination of your hearers and readers in your music and writing?
AP: I remember feeling something when I was a kid. It’s this tickle behind your bellybutton, a sense that you’re brushing up against something magical. I had it all the time when I played with my G.I. Joe toys, when I read Voyage of the Dawn Treader, whenever I drew the first line of a new picture in my sketchbook, when I traipsed through the woods and came upon a rabbit or a snake in the grass. It’s the feeling that you’re being watched, the sudden, awful realization that you’re not alone. I get the feeling sometimes when I’m at Disney with my children, and when I’m at a wedding and we stand as the bride walks the aisle. Sometimes I feel it during communion. That feeling comes less and less the older you get, if you’re not careful to keep it alive. The world is full of surprises. It’s both scarier and more wonderful than you think. All these things prepare the heart for the jarring truth that there is an invisible Other, and He’s watching you. “Believe,” Jesus said, again and again, and that’s hard to do with a dead imagination.
RES: You describe yourself first and foremost as a storyteller—that you have the listener in mind when you write your songs. What do you mean by this, and what is it about stories that so resonate with the soul?
AP: What drives me isn’t just a love of music, but of connection. I’ve never been content to write a song, put it away, and never play it for a soul. As soon as it’s finished I want to play it for someone and see if it resonates. It doesn’t always happen, but it’s thrilling when it does. Frederick Buechner said, “The story of one of us is the story of us all.” I believe that. If I can tell my story well, there’s a good chance that at least someone out there will recognize their own. And maybe they’ll be better able to believe the Gospel story when they hear it.
RES: You’ve said that you hope that people would come away from your concerts “feeling less alone.” In a world in which people have more access to others than perhaps ever before—and with mediums like email, instant messaging, and social networking (Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, etc.)—why do you think that people might still feel so alone? What hope do you wish to communicate to such men and women?
AP: I think Facebook is our culture’s answer to the disappearance of the close-knit, small town community. Finding out on Facebook that so-and-so has a cold, or stubbed their toe, or is reading a certain book is the 21st Century equivalent of strolling the town square or having pancakes in the diner. It’s small talk. And small talk is okay. You wouldn’t necessarily call your friend to find out if his toe got stubbed; it’s just nice to know. The thing is, even small towns have secrets. I know because I grew up in one. There were murders. Suicides. There was bigotry and alcoholism and despair. Beneath the surface is the same darkness you see on the news in big cities and war-torn countries. Small talk doesn’t address that secret loneliness. Neither does marriage, for that matter. Only Christ can. Only he has the power to step in and throw back the curtains.
RES: What role does pain and suffering play in your music and writing? To quote loosely your song, “Faith to Be Strong,” how can the sorrow we feel bring freedom?
AP: I hope pain and suffering play the same role as joy and peace. They’re all a part of our experience, so they deserve attention in the stories and songs we write.
...
Interview with Andrew Peterson, Part I
Posted by Robert Sagers
It's true that so much of what passes as Christian music these days hardly seems Christian at all—which is all the more reason to praise God for Christian musicians who seem to be getting it right. And one of those artists is Andrew Peterson.
Peterson is the producer of ten albums, the author of three books (including the soon-to-be released, North! Or Be Eaten), and the creator of one website for artists and musicians. You can listen to some of his music—for free—at his personal site. You can also find him on Facebook, and follow him on Twitter.
Peterson was kind to answer some questions about art, music, writing, community, and the gospel for the readers of this blog. This is the first installment of that interview.
...
RES: Thank you so much for agreeing to answer some questions for the readers of Justin’s blog! Could you please tell us a little bit about yourself—where you’re from, what you do, your family, and how to came to know Christ?
AP: I was born in Illinois, grew up in Florida, and live in Tennessee. That makes me one part Midwesterner, one part Southerner, and one part hillbilly. I’m a singer/songwriter and author who’s been married fourteen years and has three children. I grew up in the church. My dad’s preached since he was a teenager, so I’ve known about Christ since I was old enough to sing “Jesus Loves Me.” As for actually knowing him, that all started when I was about nine.
RES: In Art for God's Sake, Philip Graham Ryken recalls traveling to New York City to view the paintings of Makoto Fujimura. So moved by what he saw, Ryken writes the following: “At its best, art is able to do what Fujimura’s paintings do: satisfy our deep longing for beauty and communicate profound spiritual, intellectual, and emotional truth about the world that God has made for his glory.” What is art, and what do you think is its purpose?
AP: Wow. I don’t know how I’d say it better than Ryken—although I have one tiny issue with his quote. Art can’t satisfy a longing for beauty. Art can pique it. It can remind us that we were made for ultimate beauty, but it’s only a window. When I’m confronted by a profoundly beautiful work of art, I feel a profound ache, like a kid peeking through the gate at Disney World. I’m comforted to remember that such a world exists, but I’m not yet allowed entrance. An artist hangs windows all over the shadowy world, lets the light in, reminds people to draw near and peek through.
RES: Do you see yourself primarily as a Christian who is an artist, or an artist who is a Christian? What difference do you think that it makes?
AP: I really don’t think it makes a lot of difference. I used to worry about that question, but I don’t anymore. It’s exhausting. I’ve written, deleted, and re-written an answer to this question three times now and can’t come up with a good one. The thing is to keep your hand to the plough and work as the Spirit leads you. In the face of an excellent work of art, such questions don’t matter so much.
RES: Explaining the nature of art, Francis Schaeffer in Art and the Bible contends that one of the basic notions of art—“the one that really produces great art and the possibility of art—is that the artist makes a body of work and this body of work shows his world view.” What do you desire your music and your writing to reflect about the way that you see the world?
AP: I hope to be honest in a way that helps people feel less alone, to remind people that the deep sadness they feel proves they were made for an even deeper joy, and that joy is in Christ. I hope to remind people that they were made for an unbroken world. As I said before, I want to hang windows and let the light in. David Wilcox once said that when he stands on the stage he envisions the audience before him as a thirsty field, while behind him is a vast reservoir of clean water. When he plays a song, he’s turning on the faucet and watering the land. That’s what a song or a story can do.
...
It's true that so much of what passes as Christian music these days hardly seems Christian at all—which is all the more reason to praise God for Christian musicians who seem to be getting it right. And one of those artists is Andrew Peterson.
Peterson is the producer of ten albums, the author of three books (including the soon-to-be released, North! Or Be Eaten), and the creator of one website for artists and musicians. You can listen to some of his music—for free—at his personal site. You can also find him on Facebook, and follow him on Twitter.
Peterson was kind to answer some questions about art, music, writing, community, and the gospel for the readers of this blog. This is the first installment of that interview.
...
RES: Thank you so much for agreeing to answer some questions for the readers of Justin’s blog! Could you please tell us a little bit about yourself—where you’re from, what you do, your family, and how to came to know Christ?
AP: I was born in Illinois, grew up in Florida, and live in Tennessee. That makes me one part Midwesterner, one part Southerner, and one part hillbilly. I’m a singer/songwriter and author who’s been married fourteen years and has three children. I grew up in the church. My dad’s preached since he was a teenager, so I’ve known about Christ since I was old enough to sing “Jesus Loves Me.” As for actually knowing him, that all started when I was about nine.
RES: In Art for God's Sake, Philip Graham Ryken recalls traveling to New York City to view the paintings of Makoto Fujimura. So moved by what he saw, Ryken writes the following: “At its best, art is able to do what Fujimura’s paintings do: satisfy our deep longing for beauty and communicate profound spiritual, intellectual, and emotional truth about the world that God has made for his glory.” What is art, and what do you think is its purpose?
AP: Wow. I don’t know how I’d say it better than Ryken—although I have one tiny issue with his quote. Art can’t satisfy a longing for beauty. Art can pique it. It can remind us that we were made for ultimate beauty, but it’s only a window. When I’m confronted by a profoundly beautiful work of art, I feel a profound ache, like a kid peeking through the gate at Disney World. I’m comforted to remember that such a world exists, but I’m not yet allowed entrance. An artist hangs windows all over the shadowy world, lets the light in, reminds people to draw near and peek through.
RES: Do you see yourself primarily as a Christian who is an artist, or an artist who is a Christian? What difference do you think that it makes?
AP: I really don’t think it makes a lot of difference. I used to worry about that question, but I don’t anymore. It’s exhausting. I’ve written, deleted, and re-written an answer to this question three times now and can’t come up with a good one. The thing is to keep your hand to the plough and work as the Spirit leads you. In the face of an excellent work of art, such questions don’t matter so much.
RES: Explaining the nature of art, Francis Schaeffer in Art and the Bible contends that one of the basic notions of art—“the one that really produces great art and the possibility of art—is that the artist makes a body of work and this body of work shows his world view.” What do you desire your music and your writing to reflect about the way that you see the world?
AP: I hope to be honest in a way that helps people feel less alone, to remind people that the deep sadness they feel proves they were made for an even deeper joy, and that joy is in Christ. I hope to remind people that they were made for an unbroken world. As I said before, I want to hang windows and let the light in. David Wilcox once said that when he stands on the stage he envisions the audience before him as a thirsty field, while behind him is a vast reservoir of clean water. When he plays a song, he’s turning on the faucet and watering the land. That’s what a song or a story can do.
...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)