woodmere welcomes pope francis
Post on 23-Jul-2016
224 Views
Preview:
DESCRIPTION
TRANSCRIPT
July 11 – October 18, 2015
CONTENTS
Foreword by William R. Valerio, PHD 2
A Conversation with Reverend Joseph F. Chorpenning, OSFS, Sister Agnes Reimann, SSJ and Peter Paone 4
Works in the Exhibition 20
WoodmereArtMuseum
Woodmere Welcomes Pope Francis
Biblical Art from the Permanent Collection
2 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
Careful, strategic planning is, of course, necessary
for the functioning of any museum. However,
insofar as the entirety of Woodmere’s professional
staff can gather around our boardroom table, we
are able to react quickly in our work as a team,
responding nimbly to opportunities and engaging
with important events.
Such was the case when, little more than one
year ago, we learned that Pope Francis’ visit to
Philadelphia for the World Meeting of Families
was no longer a possibility, but had become a
scheduled milestone in the history of our city.
From around the table at our weekly staff meeting
the concept of this exhibition formed as staff
member after staff member, excited about the
Pope’s visit, suggested favorite works of art
of a religious or biblical nature in Woodmere’s
collection that could be placed on view in honor of
the His Holiness’ visit. It was a fascinating process
because once we began in this way to build our
checklist, we realized that many of the artists
whose work we frequently show—Violet Oakley,
Walter Erlebacher, Frank Galuszka, Sam Maitin,
Peter Paone, Razel Kapustin, Julius Bloch, Michael
Ciervo, Benton Spruance, Susan Moore, Jacob
Landau, and Moe Brooker, to name a few—have
expressed their ideas about spirituality in works of
art. We also recognized that the framework of the
exhibition gave us the opportunity to show works
by artists we have never or have infrequently
shown, and this, for a museum, is a thrill. Ralph
Pallen Coleman’s Come Unto Me, a beautifully
executed painting of Christ enthroned as the
savior of the war-ravaged masses of World War
II, is one such instance, and it seems fresh and
powerfully moving in its directness. We are equally
excited about Quita Brodhead’s Crucifix and
Walter Stuempfig’s We Want Barabbas.
Insofar as this exhibition draws from Woodmere’s
permanent collection, we are particularly proud
of the quality of the works on view. We are also
grateful for some recent gifts of art, and with
regard to these, we would like to extend special
thanks to Anthony Visco, one of our city’s very
extraordinary artists, unique, perhaps, in his
dedication to making art that functions in the
church environment. Woodmere thanks Rev.
Joseph Chorpenning, OSFS, Editorial Director of
St. Joseph’s University Press, Sr. Agnes Reimann,
SSJ, Woodmere docent and artist Peter Paone
for giving generously of their expertise and for
participating in the conversation that appears in
the pages of this catalogue. Woodmere’s staff is
to be commended for its enthusiasm and flawless
execution. Rick Ortwein, Woodmere’s Deputy
Director for Exhibitions, was the chief organizer
and curator of the exhibition. The creative
elegance of the presentation and the depth of the
experience are due to Rick’s immense talent.
WILLIAM R. VALERIO, PHD
The Patricia Van Burgh Allison Director and CEO
FOREWORD
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
Come Unto Me, date unknown, by Ralph Pallen Coleman (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Coleman Estate)
4 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
On Thursday, June 4, 2015, Father Joseph Chorpenning, OSFS, Sister Agnes
Reimann, SSJ and artist Peter Paone sat down with Rick Ortwein, Woodmere’s
Deputy Director for Exhibitions, and William Valerio, Woodmere’s Patrcia Van
Burgh Allison Director and Chief Excecutive Officer, to discuss the exhibition,
Woodmere Welcome Pope Francis: Biblical Art from the Permanent Collection.
St. Francis of Assisi figures prominently in the exhibition. It is fitting to note
the Pope’s reasons for selecting Francis as his name. Cardinal Walter Kasper,
in Pope Francis’ Revolution of Tenderness and Love: Theological and Pastoral
Perspectives explains, “At his first meeting with representatives of the media,
the new pope explained his choice of name with a reference to Francis
of Assisi: ‘He is a man of poverty, a man of peace, a man who loves and
safeguards creation.’”
RICK ORTWEIN: As I began to organize this
exhibition, I looked not only for works that were
overtly religious—ones that represented stories from
the Bible or the lives of saints, for example—but also
works that simply had a religious quality or spirit.
Moe Brooker’s I Can’t Keep From Singing #2 has a
title similar to a Shaker hymn. It’s very abstract, and
title aside, I don’t think people would necessarily
think of it as a religious subject. It’s an expression
of joy, for sure, but when it’s paired with some of
the other works in the room it really resonates as
a religious experience. The exhibition also includes
a number of images of Saint Francis, made by
Catholics and non-Catholics. I’m curious as to why
Saint Francis captures the imagination of people of
different denominations from all walks of life. Does
the popularity of Francis of Assisi explain in part the
popularity of our current pope, his namesake?
SISTER AGNES REIMANN: I have two thoughts
about it. One was that Saint Francis was an
ecologist before ecology was even popular. He
was someone who believed that we are one with
the sun, and earth, and stars; we are one with
the animals, and all people. So he did not get his
popularity necessarily from the Catholic Church.
FATHER JOSEPH CHORPENNING: I read
somewhere that Francis of Assisi was the most
popular saint in Renaissance Italy. There are multiple
layers to that. He resonates with environmentalism—
certainly the Franciscan spiritual vision is an
incarnational vision, seeing the presence of God in
the world. But this vision also includes other things,
like his love of poverty. But I was struck by Francis’s
A CONVERSATION WITH REVEREND JOSEPH CHORPENNING, OSFS, SISTER AGNES REIMANN, SSJ AND PETER PAONE
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
authenticity. This is what people really like about
Pope Francis—he’s real, he’s comfortable in his
own skin, and there are no pretexts. Even someone
who doesn’t agree with him on every point has
to acknowledge this. Pope Francis has a warmth
and an openness, and one of the characteristics of
Francis of Assisi was his openness to all kinds of
people. There’s a famous story in which he ministers
to a leper when no one would even go near this
man, and we see the same in Pope Francis. I don’t
know what the disease was, but there was a man,
terribly deformed, and Pope Francis went out to
him and embraced him; he sees people, he goes out
to them—he doesn’t wait for them to come to him.
WILLIAM VALERIO: Can we talk for a moment
about Benton Spruance’s print? (p. 6)To me it’s
an iconic image that shows Saint Francis as a
man of the people. He wears a brown frock, and
the artist even scumbles it up a little bit so you
can see it’s made out of ordinary fabric. Yet he’s
in Venice, with the beautiful Saint Marks Church
in the background—that’s the world of luxury, the
church of luxury. It’s dripping with gold. Does that
juxtaposition strike a chord with any of you, in
terms of Pope Francis?
REIMANN: I see a parallel. Francis of Assisi was a
very wealthy man; his father wanted him to take
over his business as a cloth merchant. One day
he had a vision and heard the words, “Renew my
church.” It had a powerful effect on him, strong
enough that he gave up his wealth and decided
to take up a simple life to renew the church. I do
believe that in this day and age, the twenty-first
century, Pope Francis also is being called to renew
our church. That’s the parallel I see. Also, as I said
before, he was one with earth and sun—I never saw
I Can’t Keep from Singing #2, 2001, by Moe Brooker (Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, Barra Foundation Art Acquisition Fund, 2003)
6 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
that figure in the sun before. You really need to look
at art with time and care.
PAONE: That’s the interesting part about that print:
Francis and his two people are in the square, almost
like tourists feeding pigeons, and yet, in the sun
there’s the crucifix where he’s about to receive the
stigmata. That moment is also depicted in Jan van
Eyck’s painting at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
In van Eyck’s scene, it’s just a matter of fact—it’s
about to happen. But in Spruance’s print, it’s not
happening. If you remove that, it’s just a day at Saint
Mark’s Square. So, there’s more than the image
implies.
VALERIO: Peter, were you inspired by the van Eyck?
PAONE: When I first saw it as a boy, I was inspired
by the van Eyck for formal reasons without the
story of Francis. My interpretation is much larger
than the story of Francis. I left Roman Catholicism
at a very early age, but the images and the stories
in Catholicism are the first Surrealist ideas in art:
angels with wings, Christ sitting on a throne on
a cloud, the serpent. These things don’t exist in
everyday life, but they exist in faith. Think about
the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel
appears before Mary and informs her that she is
to be the mother of Christ. We see a winged man
presenting himself to a woman who is indifferent
to his appearance. Even the message that it will
be an immaculate conception is surreal. In the
twentieth century, when religious art had pretty
much diminished, there was one artist who brought
it to the top beautifully, and that was Salvador Dalí.
He was a surrealist. His Madonna of Guadalupe is a
masterpiece. He painted it in a Renaissance manner,
but he brought forth the surrealist quality in his own
time.
St. Francis— The Piazza, 1953, by Benton Spruance (Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1954)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
VALERIO: I’m interested, Peter, in your decision to
make two versions of this print, a white on black
and a black on white.
PAONE: I made two because of the story of the two
versions of van Eyck’s painting, one of which is now
in Turin and the other, as we discussed, is here in
Philadelphia. They were commissioned by a wealthy
merchant who had two daughters. The girls went
into nunneries in different parts of Europe, and he
wanted a version of the painting for each of them. I
wanted two also, so I printed the etching intaglio in
this very traditional manner, and then I did a relief
print of it, where you roll the black over the top
rather than pushing the ink into the lines.
VALERIO: So the lines are empty?
PAONE: The lines are empty and appear white. This
is a time-honored process, but I thought it was a
good idea in terms of there being two versions of
the van Eyck, since I’ve taken it from the van Eyck,
more than the story itself.
ORTWEIN: What interested me in putting this
print in the exhibition is seeing it alongside our
other images of Saint Francis. In Edward Hoffman’s
sculpture, it’s the Saint Francis of the animals: he’s
earthbound, and the work doesn’t really address his
mystical nature.
St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata, after Jan Van Eyck, 1991, by Peter Paone (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015)
8 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
PAONE: That’s the surreal quality. He’s both earthly
and heavenly.
ORTWEIN: Well, he’s much more real that way. He’s
alive, present. There’s definitely spirit there, one that
doesn’t exist in the statues of Francis you see in
gardens. But Hoffman’s work reminds me of those
in its scale and posture.
VALERIO: What I love about Hoffman’s Saint Francis
is the kind of a mid-century stylization of the figure:
it’s tall like a column and has an architectural feel.
What’s really nice is the communication between
Saint Francis’s eyes and the two birds. It’s about the
energy that passes between them, and then you
have a third bird that’s looking up, observing.
CHORPENNING: There’s another thread in the
Francis of Assisi narrative. I see it in Anthony-Petr
Gorny’s use of his own image as the image on the
sudarium (the veil of Veronica) (p. 9). One place
in the tradition where this comes through is in the
masterwork of Saint Francis de Sales, the Treatise
on the Love of God. Francis de Sales chooses
Francis of Assisi as the image of what it means to
be a lover of God, whether you’re a layperson, a
priest, or whatever. One interpretation of Francis
of Assisi’s stigmata is that it didn’t come from the
outside, but from the inside out. Saint Bonaventure
highlights this in his biography of Francis of Assisi.
According to Bonaventure, Francis had so shaped
himself interiorly to conform to Christ that the
stigmata appeared on his body from the inside
out. The seraph that appeared was there simply to
facilitate the process, rather than as its source.
The emphasis really is on personal transformation,
on conversion. In terms of Pope Francis, again,
we’re talking about different levels. He is focused
on the poor, and certainly on the renewal of the
church, but also very clearly, especially in the
program for his pontificate laid out in The Joy of
the Gospel, on a personal, transforming encounter
with Christ. I’m really struck by how much emphasis
he puts on preaching, on priests, on people. He
is saying, “We’ve got to renew preaching, and in
your preaching, you should be leading people to a
personal encounter with Christ.”
VALERIO: I’d like to turn for a moment to something
Peter told me earlier that I found to be really
St. Francis, 1960, by Edward Fenno Hoffman III (Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1966)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
provocative. Peter, you commented about how,
in the works of say, Jacob Landau, the stories of
the Old Testament are no longer stories of faith,
but rather stories of humanity. How is Landau
interpreting this? You made a distinction between
Renaissance images that were designed to convey
the stories to people who couldn’t read, and works
by artists of our age who can read and are taking it
a step further to make it art.
PAONE: Well, in the traditional images, people
were looking at stories, because they couldn’t read.
In contemporary images, the story isn’t brought
to the viewer—the viewer brings the story to the
image. So, it can be any number of things. The
basic image comes from a very traditional story, in a
certain time, but we are not in that time now. So, we
interpret that story in our own time.
VALERIO: Looking at Landau’s Cain and Abel, I have
to think that Landau is interpreting the biblical story
in the context of the Second World War. This is
brother against brother.
PAONE: The two figures are battling. It’s humanity
against humanity.
ORTWEIN: These are second-generation humans.
Cain and Abel were the first children of man, so by
the second generation, jealousy and violence are
prevalent. The stories are universal and again speak
to each generation.
REIMANN: Adam and Eve, if we put them on Earth
today, would be having the same power struggle
that Adam and Eve did with the snake. You’re
right—humanity is humanity, whether it was way
back then, or today.
A Sudarium, 1994 by Anthony-Petr Gorny (Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 2014)
10 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
Saint Rita in Ecstacy, 2000, by Anthony Visco (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
CHORPENNING: And that’s the appeal, Peter,
as you said, to whether believers, non-believers,
practitioners of faith, non-practitioners of faith—
these works have a broader appeal because they
are archetypal stories. Sociologists of religion have
long pointed out that the stories are among the
most enduring aspects of Catholicism because they
capture people’s imaginations, and people relate
them to their own experience; stories give people
a framework to make sense of their own lives and
their own struggles, their joys and sorrows, and so
on.
PAONE: But now, if you give a title to something,
it can make it religious. For example, the Rothko
Chapel consists of fourteen dark-colored canvases.
If you think it’s religious, it’s because you’re reading
into those voids. Are they religious? Are they
sacred? Are they something that you would worship
in a chapel? It depends on who you are, and how
you interpret this. So, there’s a switch here, because
now you can label something as being something,
although you can’t read it as being that.
CHORPENNING: Right. And there are debates about
the titling even of some religious paintings that
come from the Renaissance and the Middle Ages,
because the titles have been assigned by scholars.
They haven’t, necessarily, been given by the artist.
So, for example, there are a variety of nativities.
Well, is the nativity only the moment of the birth?
Or does the nativity include the adoration of the
shepherds? Or some other moment?
ORTWEIN: Your description, Father, of the impact
of scholars in applying titles can be illustrated in
Anthony Visco’s experience. I became familiar with
Visco’s work from seeing it in churches. His bust
of Saint Rita in our collection was made for the
National Shrine of Saint Rita of Cascia on Broad
Street, Philadelphia. I asked him if he’d had to make
compromises when working with clients versus
working independently in the studio and revealing
the work after completion. He explained that it
was not a sacrifice to work in this manner, that
in his early artistic career he made site-specific
installations in the Arte Povera movement. Often
executed outdoors, they were temporary works,
but they were integrated into the site. He sees the
work for sacred spaces that he engages in now as a
continuation of those same thoughts and interests.
As a young man, he went to Italy to see the
Masaccios and other artists he knew from art history
texts. When he saw them firsthand, the purity and
isolation of the artwork was missing. They weren’t
framed and surrounded by white like they appear
in books. They were in living spaces; they had
utilitarian function. There were candles all around
them. People stopped not just to look at them for
color and light and perspective, but to contemplate
the events depicted. It’s the reason they’re there.
These images, in the Catholic sense, provide the
occasion for meditation and contemplation. They’re
not objects of worship. That really resonated with
Visco, and he started doing this kind of work.
VALERIO: Rick, I know the bust of Saint Rita that
Visco gave to Woodmere is a fragment, and yet,
it’s something that he’s preserved in his studio as a
work of art. How is it different or similar?
ORTWEIN: Well, it has a completely different
context, so it hangs over the door of his studio.
You wouldn’t necessarily guess it based solely on
the bust, but it’s describing the moment of ecstasy
when she receives the stigmata, which in this case
manifests in a single wound on her forehead from
the crown of thorns, rather than the wounds of
the hands and feet that Francis of Assisi bore. I
12 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
certainly don’t look at the bust and envision the full
setting with flowers and candles that surround the
sculpture at the shrine.
VALERIO: What’s interesting to me, relative to
what you said about Visco’s journey as an artist,
is that he’s given this to the museum, and so
he’s imagining that this piece is going to live in a
very different context where people are going to
approach it from a very different point of view. And
yet this will certainly function very well as a work
of art in a museum, and perhaps it’s the fact that it
is a fragment that makes us recognize it more as a
museum-ready work of art than the full spectrum
with the candles and flowers.
PAONE: Well, it’s interesting how a work of art
transcends from one thing to the next. When
you’re in a studio making a sculpture, it’s just clay,
it’s just plaster. Then it goes into bronze, and it’s
still just your sculpture. But all of a sudden it’s in
a church and it becomes something more. I did
a very large painting of the Resurrection for the
Armenian Church and it gave me all the problems of
a painting. Then it goes to the church, and there it
is with people genuflecting in front of it. It blew my
mind. It was no longer mine. It really was no longer
that painting I tried to solve, it was something
religious. That’s what we’re looking at here, and
the fragment is part of Visco’s thinking process,
his creativity. It’s not meant to be worshiped or
looked at, and yet suddenly it is and it’s no longer
that problem that you have to solve. That’s what’s
interesting not only about art, but about art that
goes to the people, as a opposed to going back
in your rack, or going to a museum without the
religious context—it has two lives.
ORTWEIN: In his living room, Visco had a sculpture
of Saint Padre Pio, which I was familiar with
from the Church of Saint John the Evangelist
on Thirteenth Street, Philadelphia. The sculpture
presents him slightly bent at the waist, hands out,
clad in a Franciscan robe. His foot is protruding
from beneath the robe. People have such devotion
to him, they hold the hands of the statue while they
meditate and pray to the saint for his intercession.
When I told the artist I had witnessed that, he said,
“Well, when people ask me what kind of sculpture
I make, I say I make sculptures that old ladies kiss.”
But, he pointed out that he had to have that posture
where the foot came out from underneath the robe
because people like to touch the feet.
PAONE: That’s the other interesting thing about
religious sculpture that you don’t get in any other
kind of sculpture. People look at it, and believe
that it’s real, and therefore they have to touch it. In
Maquette for Jesus Breaking Bread, 1975, by Walter Erlebacher (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist’s wife, Martha Mayer Erlebacher, 2009)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
other sculpture, even if it’s pre-Raphaelite sculpture
but not religious, they look at it just to look at it,
but in religious sculpture, you’ll always find a shiny
spot that’s a little more worn than anywhere else
because people need to touch it because they
believe it’s real. That’s the belief that goes into a
religious representational sculpture.
CHORPENNING: Because it becomes an object of
devotion and admiration.
VALERIO: The images of the Madonna by Violet
Oakley and Bo Bartlett were made a hundred years
apart, but the two artists used a similar strategy of
making the Madonna a real woman. You can tell in
both cases that the artists were trying to avoid the
trappings of a religious context, but to make images
that nonetheless find their spirituality in realism.
PAONE: I have a funny story about that. When I
was in college, I took art education and we had
to practice-teach from kindergarten to twelfth
grade. I was in a first-grade class and the students
were going to make drawings. One boy drew a
round head, and added two eyes and a nose. I
asked, “Who is that?” And he said, “That’s God.” I
said, “People don’t know what God looks like.” He
said, “They do now.” [laughs] That’s the power of
imagery and conviction.
VALERIO: We can see that realism in Walter
Erlebacher’s maquette of Jesus as well. The artist
makes it appear that the toga has rolled under, as if
there’s been a process of revealing of Christ’s upper
body. This is not a towel that he’s wrapped in the
way you wrap a towel around yourself when you get
out of the shower—it’s been wrapped under from
above, and that’s a very specific strategy on the
artist’s part, because it makes you aware that this
body of Christ is a revelation.
REIMANN: Yes, it makes the body visible, and
human.
CHORPENNING: The bread and the body are the
same.
ORTWEIN: We were talking earlier about
abstraction and realism in religion—this is about the
body, the corpus. The fact that the torso is revealed
and not draped makes him all the more real. This is
an encounter with a person.
CHORPENNING: Yes. You see the glorious wounds
of the risen Jesus. In his homily at the mass for the
canonization of Saints John XXIII and John Paul
II, Pope Francis explained that the wounds on the
risen Jesus’s body never pass away because they’re
the enduring sign of God’s love for us, as 1 Peter
2:24 reminds us: “By his wounds you have been
healed.” As the memorial of the Lord’s Passion,
death, and resurrection, the Eucharist makes this
healing accessible to us. When Jesus’s side is
pierced by the soldier’s lance and blood and water
immediately flowed out, we understand that the
water and blood are symbolic of the sacraments of
baptism and Eucharist.
REIMANN: Even his gesture, the way he is handing
out the bread, says take, and eat.
CHORPENNING: Yes. Just as in the Resurrection
narratives about the appearances of the risen Jesus,
he keeps telling his disciples, take this, eat it.
VALERIO: We also have Erlebacher’s maquette
of Bishop Neumann, which was never realized. It
shows Bishop Neumann on the cobblestones of
Philadelphia, being approached by people.
14 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
VALERIO: We also have Erlebacher’s maquette
of Bishop Neumann, which was never realized. It
shows Bishop Neumann on the cobblestones of
Philadelphia, being approached by people.
CHORPENNING: My first thought when I saw this
was that Saint John Neumann was exactly the
kind of bishop that Pope Francis wants. He was a
bishop of the people and a very able administrator,
although he was not highly thought of by the clergy,
and by some other bishops, because he had this
thick Bohemian accent and he was apparently not
impressive in appearance. When he died, his critics
said they were astounded by the outpouring of the
people.
REIMANN: Now, this is important, for the history of
Philadelphia as well, because John Neumann was
very instrumental in starting Catholic education in
Philadelphia, and then it spread.
VALERIO: Well, here you see the nun with the child,
and you understand that the nun is a teacher.
REIMANN: She is a Sister of Saint Joseph, and she’s
talking to this young man about education, which
was very influential.
ORTWEIN: I spoke to Anthony Visco about this
piece too, because, he was a studio assistant for
Walter Erlebacher. The location that Erlebacher
envisioned wasn’t next to a church necessarily, but
in a public square, perhaps along the Benjamin
Franklin Parkway in Philadelphia, to emphasize
the impact that Neumann had on the culture as a
citizen, not only a cleric.
PAONE: I’d like to add something about Walter. I
met him in 1960, when we were both teaching at
Pratt, and he would often say to me, “I’m doing
something nobody else is doing.” He was doing this
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
Renaissance concept of art, which, of course, in
1960, nobody was doing and they didn’t want to be
caught doing it. That was a very brave thing for him
to do at that time.
VALERIO: Erlebacher was very interested in the
art of Michelangelo, as was Jacob Landau. One of
the things I learned about Landau is that he had a
reproduction of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel’s on
the ceiling of his studio.
ORTWEIN: These are Landau’s studies for the
cycle of windows called The Prophetic Quest, at
Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park.
VALERIO: When you see the way this snake is
wrapped around these figures, or the general
contortion of the figures, you really do think of
the Sistine Chapel. The figure with his arm out is
reminiscent of God, the father, touching Adam.
But Landau isn’t telling the same stories that
Michelangelo does. What is this story?
CHORPENNING: Hosea’s wife was unfaithful and, of
course, he was very distressed. God told him, that is
how it is between myself and Israel.
REIMANN: Right. And the hymn notes, “Come back
to me with all your heart. Give yourself back to me,”
and you see the lovers here. This other figure is
Abraham sacrificing his son. God said to Abraham,
“If you love me, would you sacrifice your son?”
Abraham was heartbroken, but if that’s what God
wanted, he would do it. And then God said it was
just a test.
CHORPENNING: And it was also because God made
the promise to Abraham that he would be the father
of many nations and his descendants would be as
numerous the stars in the sky and the sands on the
Calling of Elisha, 1920, by Edith Emerson (Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1958)
16 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
promise, and this is how the promise will be fulfilled,
and then God says, to Abraham, “I want you to take
Isaac and sacrifice him.”
VALERIO: This one is Elijah?
ORTWEIN: Yes, and we have two designs for
windows for the same congregation: the Landau
and the color study for the window that Edith
Emerson designed. Emerson’s was made for the
synagogue when it was located at Broad and
Columbia Streets in Philadelphia.
CHORPENNING: This one is the calling of Elisha.
Elisha was selected as the replacement of Elijah.
VALERIO: We also have The Three Communions by
Violet Oakley. Oakley was a Christian Scientist, and
she made many works of art for Christian Scientist
churches here in Philadelphia and, I believe, beyond.
ORTWEIN: It is also a study and we’re not sure if
it was ever realized. It depicts the last supper at
the bottom. The center refers to what Father Joe
referenced earlier when we were looking at the
Erlebacher Christ, the post-resurrection meal on the
shore where Christ greets the apostles, cooks them
fish for breakfast, and invites them to eat. He also
eats the fish with them, showing that his is a real
body, not an apparition. The final scene above is the
celestial banquet with, again, Christ presiding.
VALERIO: We’re at the very beginning stages of
a big research project on Violet Oakley, and really
sorting out the large amount of material of hers
that we have here at Woodmere. We have a lot of
work to do. Oakley is one of the great storytellers.
Another artist in the show is Quita Brodhead. We’ve
spoken mostly about artists who are working in a
narrative tradition, but Brodhead is a modernist
painter, a student of the great Arthur Carles. This
painting is unusual in her body of work, insofar as
it’s a crucifixion. You can see three crosses—the
other two people who were crucified with Jesus
were thieves, right?
REIMANN: Yes.
ORTWEIN: This is actually a still life painting—
Brodhead had a crucifix in her house, and that’s
how the painting began. But she turned it into a
dramatic, world-altering event.
VALERIO: Can we talk a bit about Susan Moore’s
work, Thy Will Be Done? Agnes, how do you
interpret this painting?
REIMANN: You see the tattoo on one arm, you see
the figure of Christ, you see the heart, the pierced
heart—the sacred heart, is the way we interpret it—
and yet, he’s got the love heart on the other arm, I
love John, or I love Mary.
Crucifix, 1940, by Quita Brodhead (Private Collection)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
VALERIO: But, this heart has thorns on it too, right?
REIMANN: Right. And there is very little color.
There’s a skeleton on the one side and helping
hands on the other side, and the words Thy will be
done.
VALERIO: The artist told me that she encountered a
person whose body was tattooed like this and she
asked him to pose for her. This is a rendering of the
tattoos that actually existed on his body. How do
you interpret this idea of the face of Christ tattooed
on a person’s body, in terms of being one with God?
PAONE: That’s another version of wearing a cross.
ORTWEIN: Yes, it could be armor, protection. It
could be camouflage, someone to hide behind.
REIMANN: It could be nothing religious at all. Do
you see rock stars with their crosses on? Wearing
rosaries? And it’s not a religious symbol for them,
it’s a piece of jewelry. So is this a religious armor?
PAONE: Whoever this man is, it’s religious, because
he has the head of Christ, he has Mary, he has the
sacred heart. He knew the symbols.
VALERIO: What does the phrase “Thy will be done”
come from?
CHORPENNING: It’s from the “Our Father.” And
from the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus says,
“Father, if you are willing, let this cup pass from me,
however, not my will, but Thy will be done.“
ORTWEIN: It’s also interesting the way that the
head is replaced by the head of Christ. The figures’
hands, the real hands of the model, could even be
the hands of Christ, as well as the drawn hands
of the tattoo. The way things disintegrate, and
reconfigure, it’s very interesting. I’m reminded of
the statement of Saint Paul to “put on Christ” and
“clothe yourself with Christ,” which is to remind
humanity to divorce itself from preoccupation with
things of the flesh. So this painting denies flesh
by covering it, while celebrating it by making it an
offering to God.
REIMANN: Well, this has really been a sacramental
encounter with all of you, just by our understanding
of each other and the talking from our minds
and hearts in a real way. That’s not the religious
sacrament we talk about, but we’re constantly in
sacramental union with people.
CHORPENNING: Well, current writing on spirituality
speaks about the sacrament of friendship.
VALERIO: And when you say sacraments, you mean
like the sacred aspects of friendship? And itThy Will Be Done, 2007, by Susan Moore (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2012)
18 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
becomes something sacred?
CHORPENNING: A sacrament mediates the divine,
and that the divine can be mediated in human
relationships. This idea is grounded in our spiritual
tradition. Francis de Sales insisted that spiritual
friendship was indispensable for living the Christian
life. He did this in an era when people were suspect
of friendship. In the early seventeenth century, de
Sales was saying that people who want to lead
a Christian life need to have good, solid spiritual
friendships because you need that support, you
need to accompany one another on the way and to
have people in your life who share your values, but
can also challenge you. Authentic friendship is not
just about agreeing, but having someone who, in a
context of love and friendship, can challenge you.
REIMANN: Some of the conversation we’ve had in
this room today on interpretation was sacramental,
because we each got into the heart differently.
CHORPENNING: And that’s what Pope Francis is
talking about. In the Joy of the Gospel, he says that
we need to recover the idea of accompanying one
another, because we’re so busy being superficial,
being self-absorbed, and just trying to see people
and then get away from them, that we don’t let
anybody in. The Pope’s challenging people on many
fronts—not only the church, but humanity, society.
VALERIO: Agnes and Father Joe, you’re both
people of the church who have built lives involved
with the arts. Would you talk about the place of art
in your personal lives?
REIMANN: When I was a child, we had a little
book called Picture Study that included Millet’s
the Angelus. I loved art from the moment I saw
that book. When I started teaching high school, I
taught an advanced course in the humanities, so I
had all sorts of slide reproductions. Watching the
faces of the students when we talked about art
just expanded my love for art. So, that’s where it
goes back to. I always wanted to be a docent in a
museum. I remember doing my presentation here at
Woodmere and looking at the fifteen people around
me, and saying I wanted to do this my whole life.
CHORPENNING: It’s interesting that you ask that
question. I don’t know where I started exactly, but
I do remember growing up that we had a very
beautiful Parish church. I was enamored by it—it
was elegant, but also simple. Its appointments
were post–World War II, although the church was
much older than that, but it was renovated after
the war. Actually, the church is dedicated to Saint
Francis of Assisi, and the sanctuary has a beautiful,
Italian wood panel mosaic of Saint Francis. It’s the
kind of thing you really didn’t see then in too many
places, it would have been thought very “modern,”
but presumably it reflected the taste of Monsignor
Maguire, the pastor, who seems to have had a pretty
refined aesthetic sense. When I was in college, I had
the opportunity to study in Europe, and the art just
kind of captured me.
VALERIO: In Rome?
CHORPENNING: Well, I studied in Spain, at
Salamanca, and also in Paris and had the
opportunity to travel throughout Europe, including
visiting Rome. When I went to graduate school at
John Hopkins, I was in a Ph.D. program in romance
languages, but we were encouraged to explore
other areas of intellectual interest so my fellow
students were taking courses in history and other
subjects. I spoke to my mentor and he said, “Why
don’t you take some courses in art history?” So, we
charted that out, and I did it, and from that time
on, my own reading, research, and publications
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
have had a distinctive visual orientation. Later on,
I spent a semester as a postdoctoral fellow at New
York University’s Institute of Fine Arts, focusing on
Caravaggio, in conjunction with the exhibition The
Age of Caravaggio.
One of the aspects of the writings of our patron,
Saint Francis de Sales, is that they are very
visual and very pictorial. They don’t have visual
illustrations, but vivid word images and descriptions,
verbal descriptions of works of art. This is
something that has intrigued me and that I’ve been
working on. In the process, I’ve been supported
by some colleagues in art history who have been
companions and mentors on the way. Then, of
course, when I went to Saint Joseph’s University,
I was right in the middle of the art thing. The
president at the time, Father Rashford, and I were
in graduate school at Hopkins during the same time
period. He was very interested in building up the art
collection and giving it a distinctive focus. I recall
saying to him, “Well, you’re not going to be buying
Italian Renaissance art because you can’t afford
it. What’s still collectible and affordable? Spanish
Colonial art.” So that’s when we started to develop
Spanish Colonial art as the core of the collection.
It’s great to introduce the students who work with
us as research assistants to art. Many of them do
not have a background in art history, and so if I
take them to an exhibition, or to a museum, they’ll
say, “Father, I don’t know anything about art. I’m a
chemical biology major.” I say to them, “It doesn’t
matter, just tell me what you see.”
VALERIO: That’s where it begins. How about you,
Rick? How did you get involved in art?
ORTWEIN: I was a kid who could draw. I drew
Snoopy all the time. I didn’t have much exposure
outside of cartoons and Norman Rockwell books
until I came to Elkins Park and went to Tyler, and
started that formal training.
VALERIO: Peter?
PAONE: I was avoiding the priesthood. That was
one of my battles, but I’ve been an artist ever since I
can remember.
VALERIO: So, you were also a kid who could draw.
[laughs]
PAONE: Yes, well, I was developing as an artist, and
somewhere along the line, my mother decided I
should be a priest, and, we looked into it for about
three months, and I decided that’s not where it’s
going to be. It can’t be that way. But, there was
enough there, that the imagery has stuck with me.
VALERIO: My mother is a painter, my father is a
writer, and so art history was a natural thing for
me. I would sometimes go with my grandparents
to church on Sunday, but the church itself wasn’t
so much a part of my life, except for baptisms,
weddings, funerals, and so on—which is to say that,
yes, it was a part of my life. [laughs] I didn’t even
realize it, because I enjoy looking at the imagery so
much, but it’s all very familiar to me.
REIMANN: I do think there are very few people
who do not have any religious background. Even
the young children we start at preschool and
kindergartners recognize Adam and Eve. How do
they recognize Adam and Eve? There has to be
some background.
VALERIO: These are stories that shape the way we
understand the world. I’m sure we could find many
Judeo-Christian resonances in popular culture. Well,
anyway, this was wonderful. Thank you all.
20 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
JAMES W. (BO) BARTLETT American, born 1955Burden of Evolution, 1992 Graphite on paper, 22 1/2 x 27 1/2 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, Barra Foundation Art Acquisition Fund, 1993
JULIUS BLOCH American, 1888–1966The Green Pastures, date unknown Lithograph, 14 1/8 x 10 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 2004
BRIAN BOUTWELL American, born 1960Grid #XXIII, 2008 Oil and charcoal on canvas, 28 x 22 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Bill Scott, 2011
QUITA BRODHEAD American, 1901–2002Crucifix, 1940 Oil on canvas, 36 x 24 inPrivate Collection
MOE BROOKER American, born 1940I Can’t Keep from Singing #2, 2001 Mixed media on paper, 29 7/8 x 29 1/2 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, Barra Foundation Art Acquisition Fund, 2003
MICHAEL CIERVO American, born 1982Untitled (Cross), 2008 Oil and enamel on EPS board, 60 x 60 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Bill Scott, 2011
RALPH PALLEN COLEMAN American, 1892–1968Come Unto Me, date unknown Oil on canvas, 36 1/4 x 30 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Coleman Estate, 1968
WALTER DODD CONDIT American, 1918–1991Head of Christ, date unknown Woodcut, 8 1/4 x 5 1/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Annie Lloyd Condit, 1995
EDITH EMERSON American, 1888–1981Calling of Elisha, 1920 Oil on canvas, 21 3/4 x 78 1/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1958
WALTER ERLEBACHER American, born Germany, 1933–1991Maquette for Jesus Breaking Bread, 1975 Lead alloy and polychromed plaster, 12 1/4 x 16 1/4 x 14 1/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist’s wife, Martha Mayer Erlebacher, 2009
Bishop John Neumann Greeting the Citizens of Philadelphia, 1979 Lead alloy, polychromed plaster, and wood, 15 3/4 x 28 1/2 x 7 3/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Martha Mayer Erlebacher, 1997
WORKS IN THE EXHIBITION
Untitled (Cross), 2008, by Michael Ciervo (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Bill Scott, 2011)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
SAM FEINSTEIN American, 1915–2003Untitled (Crucified), mid-to late 1930s Oil on canvasboard, 20 x 24 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Samuel L. Feinstein Trust, 2011
FRANK GALUSZKA American, born 1947Bethany (Mary and Martha), 1982 Oil on linen, 106 x 80 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Winfield Family, 2013
MARGUERITE GAUDIN American, 1909–1991Easter Morn, date unknown Pen and ink on paper, 15 x 18 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1965
PAUL GORKA American, born 1931The Lamentation, date unknown Oil on canvas, 39 1/4 x 59 1/4 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Estate of Doris Gorka Bartuska, 2014
ANTHONY-PETR GORNY American, born 1950A Sudarium, 1994 Silkscreen on fabric, 24 1/2 x 21 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 2014
EDWARD FENNO HOFFMAN III American, 1916–1991St. Francis, 1960 Bronze, 30 1/2 x 10 1/3 x 8 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1966
RAZEL KAPUSTIN American, 1908–1968Locusts (Eighth Plague), 1966 Oil on canvas, 37 1/2 x 49 1/2 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of Sheldon and Sylvia Kapustin, 2012
JACOB LANDAU American, 1917–2001Behold, I Will Send You Elijah, 1973 Lithograph, 22 3/8 x 30 3/8 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Rosa Giletti, 2015
Cain and Abel, date unknown Watercolor, 20 1/2 x 15 1/2 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Rosa Giletti, 2015
Abraham, Elijah, Amos, Hosea (studies for The Prophetic Quest window cycle), c. 1973 Charcoal on tracing paper, each 24 x 4 3/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 2015
SAM MAITIN American, 1928–2004Search and Create: Jacob Wrestles with Dawn, 1979 Ink, watercolor, and gouache, 15 x 9 3/4 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of Ann E. Donald W. McPhail, 2013
DAVIS MELTZER American, born 1930Samson, date unknown Lithograph, 10 1/8 x 12 7/8 in.
Woodmere Art Museum: Gift from the Collection of Harry and Catherine Kuch, 1988
SUSAN MOORE American, born 1953Thy Will Be Done, 2007 Oil and acrylic on canvas, 78 x 50 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2012
VIOLET OAKLEY American, 1874–1961Goliath, 1874 The Virgin Mary, 1903 Charcoal and chalk on paper, 24 1/2 x 19 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1957
The Three Communions (The Last Supper, Morning After the Resurrection, Banquet in Heaven), 1940s Watercolor on illustration board, 24 1/4 x 43 1/4 in.Promised gift of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts
The Lamentation, date unknown, by Paul Gorka (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Estate of Doris Gorka Bartuska, 2014)
22 WOODMERE ART MUSEUM
PETER PAONE American, born 1936St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata, after Jan Van Eyck, 1991 Etching, 15 3/8 x 19 5/8 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015
St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata, after Jan Van Eyck, 1991 Etching, printed in relief, 15 3/8 x 19 5/8 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015
HELEN SIEGL American, born Austria, 1924–2009Adam and Eve, 1968 Woodcut, 12 1/4 x 12 1/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1968
BENTON SPRUANCE American, 1904–1967The Word and Job, 1951 Woodcut, 22 5/8 x 16 1/2 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of Ron
Rumford, Peter Maxwell, and Margaret Chew Dolan, 2006
St. Francis—The Piazza, 1953 Color lithograph, 16 x 20 3/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1954
Jacob and the Angel, 1956 Lithograph, 15 x 19 3/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the Spruance Family, 2013
WALTER STUEMPFIG American, 1914–1970We Want Barabbas, c. 1945 Oil on canvas, 13 x 20 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of Lee and Barbara Maimon, 2013
UNKNOWN ARTISTBible Lesson Card, 1882 Printed by American Baptist Publication Society, PhiladelphiaCharles Knox Smith Archives Found as a bookmark in Smith’s Book of Psalms
ANTHONY VISCO American, born 1948The Third Station: Jesus Falls the First Time, 1983 Plaster, 32 1/2 x 20 1/2 x 3 3/8 inWoodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015
The Fifteenth Station: The Resurrection, 1983 Plaster, 31 1/4 x 20 1/2 x 3 5/8 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015
St. Rita in Ecstasy, 2000 Plaster, 31 x 22 1/2 x 9 1/4 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of the artist, 2015
EDWARD WARWICK American, 1881–1973St. Francis, date unknown Woodcut, 12 x 10 in.Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1960
We Want Barabbas, c. 1945, by Walter Stuempfig (Woodmere Art Museum: Gift of Lee and Barbara Maimon, 2013)
WOODMERE WELCOMES POPE FRANCIS: BIBLICAL ART FROM THE COLLECTION
Woodmere Art Museum receives state
arts funding support through a grant
from the Pennsylvania Council on the
Arts, a state agency funded by the
Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the National
Endowment for the Arts, a federal agency.
Support provided in part by
The Philadelphia Cultural Fund.
© 2015 Woodmere Art Museum. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
Photography by Rick Echelmeyer unless otherwise noted. Catalogue designed by Barb Barnett and Emma E. Hitchcock, and edited by Gretchen Dykstra.
Front cover: St. Francis—The Piazza, 1953, by Benton Spruance (Woodmere Art Museum: Museum purchase, 1954)
top related