“What would it sound like for these clouds to sing?” This was the question on artist Sarah Bernhardt’s mind when making her photo-based installation Handiwork.

In childhood, Bernhardt experienced a sense of wonder when hearing the hymn “All Creatures of our God and King.” The first two stanzas of the hymn call for all of creation to worship God in song, emphasizing the skies:

All creatures of our God and King,
lift up your voice and with us sing,
“Alleluia! Alleluia!”
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
thou silver moon with softer gleam,
O praise Him, O praise Him!
alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Thou rushing wind that art so strong,
ye clouds that sail in heav’n along,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou rising morn, in praise rejoice,
ye lights of ev’ning, find a voice
O praise Him, O praise Him!
alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

The hymn is a paraphrase of St. Francis of Assisi’s poem “Canticle of the Sun.” Written in A.D. 1225, it calls to mind Psalm 19:1, “The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.”

Bernhardt is a visual artist and the executive director of Intersect Arts Center in St. Louis, Missouri. Made possible in part by Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Intersect supports artists through public and private studios, education, plus exhibitions and performances. Bernhardt told me she chose the title Handiwork to refer both to God’s handiwork in the skies and to the artist’s work of stretching these photos, printed on canvas, into embroidery hoops.

By reproducing the skies within a frame meant for stitching, we’re invited to consider how God stitches creation together.

The individual images are shown together in relationship with each other because Bernhardt wanted to see “each having its own voice.” A solo circular photograph would be beautiful, but the combined images voice a harmonious chorus, a song in circles of clouds. In the multiples of clouds, we reflect on the truth that God makes every day new: These clouds will never form in exactly the same shape. The colors of sunrise or sunset will never again land exactly like this. God, like an awestruck toddler, does not tire of a joyful moment.

As Chesterton wrote, “It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun, and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon.” The repetition in creation is not monotonous, but features slight variation. Each cloud sounds a little different. 

When asked how she expects this series might develop, Bernhardt shared that she’s been interviewing people about how they have hope in hard times. The connection between these simply beautiful photos and interviews isn’t immediately obvious, but certainly there is a connection between beauty and hope, and a beautiful sunset can mean even more to someone enduring hardship. Interestingly, the hymn that inspired her goes to a similar place.

The second half of stanza three calls those who bear sorrow to join the clouds in song:

Ye who long pain and sorrow bear,
praise God and on Him cast your care;
O praise Him, O praise Him!
alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!