Trevor Southey (1940-2015) was a Latter-day Saint painter, sculptor, and writer. He was a young adult convert to the Church, and earnestly wanted to dedicate his artistic talent to God. His art was focused on the beauty and majesty of human bodies. In his obituary, Gretchen Dietrich, executive director of the Utah Museum of Fine Arts, noted that "he loved people, and he loved painting and drawing and sculpting people." He taught at BYU for many years; together with several other Latter-day Saint artists, he founded the Art & Belief Movement and experimented with living communally in Alpine, Utah. He married and had four children before beginning to live openly as a gay man. His subsequent alienation from the Church is the precursor for the complicated reconciliations that are the subject of his memoir and the film Bright Spark: The Reconciliation of Trevor Southey.
Utah artist Nathan Florence became intrigued with the Art and Belief Movement in the early 2000’s, and began plans for a documentary film about the group. Like Southey, Nathan is a gifted portraitist; like Southey, he says, “I’ve always loved drawing and painting people, so they continue to dominate my subject matter.” As Nathan describes in the interview below, their shared religious and artistic interests and the production of the film intertwined his life and Southey’s in unexpected and beautiful ways. The film is available to watch on PBS at or in its original theatrical release at brightsparkfilm.com.
This project has been a long time in the making and has taken many forms. What got you interested in the project, and how has it changed over the years you've worked on it?
My interest in the story started with seeing what a diverse group of collectors and audience Trevor Southey's work attracted. His friendships and collaborations with his fellow artists in the Art and Belief Movement managed to transcend the bright lines of difference that the Church paints between people. As an artist myself, I wanted to know how they reconciled their art-making, which to me means lots of asking questions and challenging norms, with the orthodoxy of the Church. I also have found that orthodoxy to be antithetical to the questions that started the church in the first place . . . different story.
The story of the film changed as we made it. It took almost twelve years from when we started to the theatrical release, and now thirteen as it starts on PBS! So of course it evolved. The most dynamic part was that the making of the film itself drastically changed the course of Trevor Southey's life . . . people will have to watch the film to see what I mean by that. It was like the ‘observer effect’ in physics, that you can't study something without changing it.
Our initial intent was that there would be no ‘narrator’ but the story would unfold with the artists’ telling. Because we had inadvertently changed the story in the telling, however, we had to rethink the approach, and I ended up having to make an appearance myself, at which point it made sense for me to narrate. That was a hard decision because I didn't want to make a film about me! How awful.
How did PBS get interested in the project? Do you have a sense yet of how non-Mormon audiences respond in ways that are similar to or different from LDS and LDS-adjacent viewers?
Our initial release in theaters was through Purdie Distribution, a small company that has an incredible sense for the LDS and adjacent film market. However, this is a completely different kind of film for them so it was exciting for us, while risky for them. I say risky because the film is like a switchblade comb. When people first encounter it they think it may be dangerous, but once they see what it actually is, they find it useful and even entertaining. The riskiest thing we did was to NOT be provocative with this story. Most people we pitched this to turned away because they expected a fight. The best art, I believe, is Evocative, not PROvocative.
The original score of the film is its own great story. I met Kevin Farrell, who has no connection to the church, while messing around playing music with some friends and offered him a ride to the airport. We were talking about creative projects and I shared a link to the early film, which he watched on the plane. He texted me from the plane, “I’m the guy crying on the plane watching your movie. Can I write music for it?” Within two days he'd sent me the entire opening scene with his music. It was awesome. Truly.
After the theatrical release we approached many different distributors with the film and PBS responded.
The audiences have been incredibly broad in their backgrounds. Our first test audiences were largely non-mormon or even adjacent, and we were deeply gratified that they responded to the story without that connection because that is what we set out to do. We wanted to tell a story that could engage any audience and they could find themselves in some part of it. In a way, non-Mormon audiences have been easier to get as viewers because they aren't spooked by the Church content, but more curious.
I had a Stake President say, “I knew you were making this film but could never support it because I have a testimony. But now that I've seen it I want every member and especially every leader of the Church to see it.” That's what I'm talking about with the switchblade comb effect. People have a hard time, in this contentious media age, believing that the film is not some kind of attack that will leave them uncomfortable. Even when KSL Movie Show called it the best film out right now, people were still nervous.
How have your questions (and answers, if you have any) about the relationship between art and faith changed as you've gotten to know the story of the Mormon Artists Group and of Trevor Southey?
I continue to think they are integral to each other. Fundamentalist stances on either art or faith are not interesting or inspiring to most people. Conceptual art wall text bores and/or alienates most people and being a zealot does too. The friction point between these extremes is where the magic happens. The spark, if you will. Corey Fox, who owns a music club in Provo where Imagine Dragons, Neon Trees and others have gotten their start, gave us one of the best quotes about the film, which is what he sees in the music he helps discover: “Beautiful things happen at the friction point between creativity and faith.”
Some years ago, I did a drawing on a piece of pink Hawaiian-print fabric called “Camera-Ready-Correlation-Approved-Jesus” where, in the place of a lost lamb, Jesus is holding all of the cosmetic products that it takes to make him look like the logo versions. Skin lightener, hair products, tinted contacts, etc. His dirty old robe on a hanger behind him. I stored it with a piece of white paper and the drawing transferred to that side so it has a sort of Shroud of Turin effect, which I love.
But in my current work I've moved away from any idea I had when I was a young artist that I am making something that would be somehow portraying ‘faith’ or the ‘gospel’ or anything like that. I have had tremendous response from my painting of Jesus walking with a woman. Perhaps because it's different from most other Jesus paintings out there. Less specific—Jesus as listener rather than instructor.
“Reconciliation” was an important word for Southey. How do you think he understood it at various periods in his life? Has it become a meaningful concept for you?
Yes, he called his book Reconciliation and came back to it many times. He really almost quotes 2 Nephi in his description of this painting of that title. You can see that in the film. It seems like something he came back to because of growing up gay when he did. He had to figure out how to make sense of things that didn't seem to fit on the surface. It’s how he continued to make sense of being a gay-Mormon-married (to a woman)-artist with the help of his art and belief friends.
For me, reconciliation is being at peace with the frustrations and regrets in my own life. I could go back and berate myself for doing, or NOT doing, certain things, or wondering if I missed out because I made certain choices, but in the end, I like where I am now. I’m grateful for the strange and wonderful situations I’m in. And I would not have arrived at this point without the idiotic and occasionally sublime experiences and decisions along the way.
I’m incredibly grateful that the film continues to be seen and appreciated by audiences. The PBS version is a slight cut-down because of their broadcast requirements, but the original theatrical release is still available to stream through our website brightsparkfilm.com, and you can also send the full version to friends or family as a gift.
Nathan Florence is a Salt Lake City–based artist. Nathan’s paintings document his love of the landscape and storytelling. They range from small landscape studies done on site, to large, figurative paintings done in the studio and commissioned portraits. His work is found in public and private collections around the world.
Art by Nathan Florence.