My Friend Mott-ly

My Friend Mott-ly is a project near and dear to my heart.  This documentary, by Chris Snipes, tells the story of Lee 'Mott-ly' Tisdale.  Mott-ly was a dear friend and a talented artist, whose courage and vision shone through his devastating illnesses.

A Night for All Souls: An Interview with Paula Jardine

OCTOBER 27, 2010

A Night for All Souls is a yearly event held at Mountain View Cemetery in Vancouver, BC.  Returning for its sixth year  'A night' provides opportunities for the public to commemorate their dead in a family oriented community art event. Activities this year include a popular sugar skull crafting workshop, music, candles, the serving of tea, and the opportunity to create personal memorials.  Visual and performing artists come together with members of the community to share and contribute to this wonderful event.  Paula Jardine, Mountain View Cemetery's Artist in Residence, and the creator of this event has graciously agreed to discuss this project on The Daily Undertaker

2007: credit Claire Alexander - Chinese altar 8237 : Walter Quan demonstrates his family's way of honouring the ancestors with food and incense offerings, and folding joss paper and burning it. There is a lovely casual exchange of different customs with people who drop by, and it's also an opportunity for non asian people to feel welcomed to learn and participate

Pat McNally: In your work with A Night for All Souls, you have created and facilitated many wonderful ceremonies and rituals acknowledging our dead and the loss we experience in their passing.  What specific personal and community needs does this festival address?     

Paula Jardine: The Night for All Souls grew out of work I had been doing with Marina Szijarto- who I work with closely on this event. Really what we were trying to do was reclaim traditions that our own ancestors seemed to have forgotten to pass on to us. We may not live in the village where our ancestors are buried, but that human impulse to remember the dead – as a way of keeping them in our lives – is still there.  It seemed to us that artists have an important role to play in the sacred life of our increasingly secular society: that even if someone is not religious it doesn’t mean they don’t have spiritual needs.   The biggest gift of the night for all souls is I think the social aspect; except at funerals or memorials, we do not invite conversation about death and it’s presence in our lives. At this event, we are surrounded by people who, simply by being present, have acknowledged that they share that experience.  People create memorial shrines, or write messages and names on prayer flags, or the memorial triptych that Marina has created, and we can see that we are not alone. We inspire each other with our words, and with the beauty of our creations. It is a very supportive environment- not somber, but definitely caring and gentle.  

Infant area cradle, Haruko Okano
photo credit: Claire Alexander

PM: One of the really remarkable and inspiring parts of A night for All Souls is that many different cultures, faiths and traditions are incorporated and welcomed.  Is there something universal that we can all relate to in this?  Could this be a model for how we engage and relate to others?   

PJ:   Well death is definitely something that all cultures share!  I believe that culture is a living thing, not static; by bringing our own traditions and sharing them, we influence each other and something new is made.  It’s something that may be truly Canadian, that willingness to share culture and allow it to transform to meet our needs. 

We chose this time of year because it is traditional in so many northern hemisphere traditions, all soul’s, all hallows eve, Celtic New Year.  And there was also discussion about how “under siege” the cemetery is around Hallowe’en, and a sense that by reinforcing the sacred nature of the cemetery it would make it safer.

Triptych: Marina Szijarto
photo credit: Claire Alexander

We initially thought this event would appeal to people without a strong cultural or religious tradition, but we are finding that many religious people of different backgrounds also come: perhaps death, being the great equalizer, is also the light of truth, that is, it illuminates the central tenant of all the religions, which is Love.  

PM: Children experience death just as the rest of us do, but they often lack the communication skills and perspective that can help adults share and move through their grief.  What can an experience like participating in All Souls give to children?

PJ: I think it has a normalizing effect.  We were just talking about that at our Sugar Skulls workshop (another borrowed tradition that people have been making their own) and how having a traditional time set aside to talk about death, and those who have come before us, creates an opportunity for children to understand that they are part of a continuum, and that death is a natural part of life.  Importantly, it introduces children to the idea of death when it is not a calamity.   We have beautiful paper and votive candles and flowers for the creation of personal memorials at the event as well, and we’ve found we don’t have to explain that to children, in fact they seem to inspire the adults.

Friend: Nicole Dextras
(chinese pavillion in background)
photo credit: Claire Alexander 

PM: The intersection of Art and Death is a major theme on The Daily Undertaker.  What are your thoughts about the role of art in grasping and dealing with the sometimes overwhelming and unknowable reality of our mortality?

PJ:   Art allows us an opportunity to disengage our rational mind and swim in the poetic. The expression of our feelings through art can be therapeutic both for the creator and the viewer; simple gestures can be cathartic and help us heal.  One year artist Nicole Dextras created a memorial to a friend with ice letters: the letters melted throughout the evening as a visible expression of the impermanence of our own lives; another artist created a wooden ship that was also a flying phoenix, to carry the memory of her father:  the works of the artists who create things for all souls uplift us all to greater heights of beauty and expression.

PM: Throughout human existence, the places of the dead and the places of the living have alternately been shared and separate.  In bringing the living into Mountain View Cemetery through arts and cultural events, our perception of these places, and our place within them changes.  What are your thoughts on the separation and bringing together of these two worlds?

PJ:  When I first approached the manager, Glen Hodges, the cemetery was going through a major renewal, driven by a public process that established a master plan for regenerating interment space.  One of the things that surfaced in the public process was a desire for public and community arts in the cemetery: A Night for All Souls addresses a community need to feel engaged with the cemetery; and to claim it as an active public space.  My feelings about that are best expressed by this quote from Maria Papacostaki’s book, "The Town of the Forty Churches" : 

“ ...so they slept their eternal sleep, resting assured that those left behind would continue looking after them according to their traditions and familiar ways, because every one of us will end up in the same place and all of us long to know that after we have crossed the dark river, we are still loved, and remembered and looked after.”

Phoenix: Tamara Unroe
photo credit: Claire Alexander

PM: What do you think our culture would look like if more artists were engaged to be civil servants?

PJ: Artists are creative problem solvers; I do actually think that it should be policy to have an artist on every team within the city structure, especially in engineering.  There would be less emphasis on doing things for purely practical reasons, so there would be more whimsy. We might have more beauty in general, and roads might be less straight (or maybe they would be invisible!)   And artists know how to stretch a dollar, that’s for sure, so we might even have less debt load! 

Here is a schedule of this year's activities.  For more information visit Mountain View Cemetery Saturday - October 30th 6pm - 10pm

The 6th Annual Night for All Souls

Music, Candles and Flowers

Sunday - October 31st 7pm - 8pm

The Threshold Choir

The all-women choir honours the ancient tradition of singing at the bedsides of people

who are struggling: some with living, some with dying.

Monday - November 1st 7pm

A special showing of the film: A Family Undertaking - Home Funerals in America

Tuesday - November 2nd 6pm - 9pm

Tea in the evening

Events take place in Celebration Hall, 5445 Fraser Street at 39th Avenue


For more on Mountain View Cemetery, please visit my interview with Cemetery Manager, Glen Hodges

In Lieu of Memorials, Please Send Flowers

9/25/08 

http://flickr.com/photos/psag/279220369/

A director I used to work with always said 'flowers are the bain of the funeral director's existence'. Indeed, we spend a lot of our time arranging flowers at the chapel for visitation, then moving them to church for the service, then, taking some to the grave, some to the home, some to this nursing home and that hospice. In the cold weather we have to wrap and unwrap the flowers and plants with plastic so they don't wither away. Pollen satins our white shirts, petals fall and stinky water spills all over in the vehicles. I almost lost a finger in a flower stand accident!

http://www.jaynepugh.co.uk/sympathytributes.htm

Often, the family has no idea of what to do with all the flowers and plants they get- who has room for all of this, and do you really want to look at it for a week? In order for the family to be able to write accurate thank-you notes to everyone who sends flowers, the funeral home staff has to make sure there is a description on the back of all the cards of the pieces, and there is almost never a description on the back. Don't even get me started on the giant trees some people send when the family lives in an apartment or nursing home! And then, there's the cost- many families ask 'why not put the money to better use- let's just list a memorial instead.'

http://www.nzflowers.co.nz/93/funeral-flowers/

Well, I'm all for donating to worthy charities, and I won't mind only moving five pieces of flowers to church tomorrow, but when I die, I'd like my obituary to read 'In lieu of memorials, please send flowers'.

Flowers are a visible expression for a grieving family that their friends and family and neighbors and coworkers care and are thinking of them in their loss. When a family comes in before their visitation, the first thing they do after weeping at the casket is look at all the flowers and say 'isn't that nice, aren't these beautiful, look these are from my job! these are from our neighbor!' When they come into the chapel for the service, again there is the visual reminder of all the people who may not have the words to make things any better, but have shown by their actions that this person and this loss are meaningful. Whatever the cost of the flowers, and whatever is done with them afterwards-they made a difference to that family.

The Art of Remembering: A Conversation with Sigrid Herr

 7/14/10

 

Sculptor Sigrid Herr

In an age of mass produced, digitally rendered cemetery markers, Sigrid Herr of Art Of Remembering, creates a qualitatively different product. Collaborating closely with grieving family members, Ms. Herr creates clay models by hand. These forms are in turn cast into beautiful one-of-a-kind bronze memorial cemetery markers. Born and raised in Germany, and currently working in the San Francisco Bay area, she brings 30 years of experience as a sculptor and her own experiences of grieving to make the task of selecting a memorial a healing and creative experience, rather than just a retail one. Ms. Herr has graciously agreed to share a conversation about her work and thoughts on grief and memorialization with the Daily Undertaker.

Pat McNally: You describe your start in creating grave markers to be a collaborative process with other members of your family. I’ve found that the more ways a family can participate in memorializing their loved ones, the more healing that memorial is for them. Could you describe your experience in designing your mother-in-law’s marker?

Sigrid Herr: In the Jewish tradition there is a year between putting a person in the ground and assigning a burial marker. When it came time for us to find one for Celia, my mother-in-law, we considered the options and were disenchanted by all of them: they were bland and unimaginative and felt like a bad match for the beautiful person she was. We wanted to express our gratitude for her, our appreciation, and we wanted to manifest that she was special and loved. Being a sculptor I decided to create a marker rather than buy one online or through a catalog that the funeral home provided. Celia always encouraged and supported me in my work, and owned several of my pieces, so we agreed she would have liked that. Being able to show our caring, express our connection and create a design with Celia in mind helped our family deal the sadness we felt with her death. It was like a last interaction with her, finding a way to represent her, like a portrait.

Sigrid's late mother-in-law, Celia Schear and her finished marker

When my father died last year, my mother and my sisters and I came together for his funeral. I remember my mother taking comfort in the first raw days after the death of her husband of 60 years by making plans for how she wanted their gravesite to look. It was as if it was her last act of housekeeping and presentation as a couple. In this time which often generates feelings of helplessness and having to accept a huge loss, creative efforts soothe the family left behind and provide an outlet for caring and loving feelings.

Sigrid with her father's memorial

Pat: What is the design process like to create a memorial marker for someone you have never met?

Sigrid: I often try to google the person the client calls about, so sometimes I have an idea already about who he or she was and then I can ask better questions.
In conversation, preferably in person rather than over the phone or by e-mail, I try to get a feeling for the person who will be memorialized. The friend or the relative calling usually appreciates the opportunity to talk about the person they lost. I support this by asking questions like what they loved most in the world, what made them happy, where and how they grew up, what their tastes and style were like and about their relationships. I make sure to let them know that I can appreciate the difficult challenge of accepting what they are faced with. I ask for photographs of the person the marker is for which then sit on my work table while I am working on the marker.

Design work

I encourage the person calling to think of symbols and designs the person liked, to get together as a family or a group of friends if possible to brainstorm and reminisce. One mother remembered her daughter’s fondness for roses, how beautiful her garden was and how much she loved her plants, and the birds that she watched out of her kitchen window. So I came up with a design that incorporated birds and roses and sent them to her.
I usually end up with a fairly distinct feeling for this person that guides me and inspires my creative proposals and decisions. My goal is to design something that the person would have liked, and something that evokes that person’s memory for the people coming to visit the grave.

Creating a border in clay

Pat: Many of us today look to leave a lighter footprint on the earth, with the idea of preserving its beauty and diversity for future generations. Still, our families and friends need to acknowledge that their loved one mattered and their passing matters too. How do you reconcile these two ideas?

Sigrid: I understand and admire the concept of green funerals, its lightness and its commitment to impermanence.
But the creation of bronze markers follows a long artistic and historic tradition. Today we admire and preserve bronze pieces from centuries back, parts of traditions and rituals from times long gone, witnesses that survived due to their strength and durability. When I take walks in old cemeteries, I marvel at old markers, the older they are the more amazing they are to me.

When talking to a friend about how I had found my way from creating figurative sculptures to the making of grave markers, I commented a bit flippantly “how un-Buddhist” my current occupation was. In Buddhism, holding on to the illusion of permanence of any kind is one of the ways we perpetuate suffering. And here I was making fancy grave markers in bronze that most likely would outlive the person commemorated by many lifetimes.

In yet another conversation, one about getting older and facing death (which with my advancing years is becoming more and more personal), my partner in conversation, familiar with my wrestling with this huge elephant-in-the-middle-of-the-room question, commented on how she couldn’t get over the fact that I was making grave markers now. As soon as she brought it up, she voiced her idea of why I was taking to the task with such passion: “You are saying: I was here and it matters. And you are telling the other person: You were here, and it matters.’’ With an instant sensation of heat in my chest and a swelling of tears my body confirmed this as true before my mind followed.

I think there is a place for both, rituals in the spirit of impermanence and rituals that serve as markers of time and history. My awareness of taking up space for centuries and for using precious resources makes it all the more important to me to create consciously and thoughtfully, to not cut corners in terms of the material and the casting process, to care about quality.

I think that beauty and art are a something to be cherished by both individuals and society. One of my goals is to make my markers accessible to people who normally would not be able to afford them. That means making a living by selling enough of them to people who have the money to commission them so I can offer discounts and pro bono work to those with fewer resources.

A marker in its clay stage

Pat: What is it like emotionally and physically to create these memorial markers?

Sigrid: Like many people, I am an obituary reader. The reason why I read the stories and study the pictures is that I feel like I honor the people who have passed away by taking the time to learn about their lives. I honor them by seeing them: you were here, this was your life, a life that spanned years and decades and that is now compressed to mostly 300 words or less. I feel compassion for them, for all that doesn’t get mentioned in the brief write-ups: hardships, growth, set-backs, disappointments, hard work, and weaknesses alongside the more pleasant and presentable facts of life like birth, marriage, children and professional achievements. I feel compassion for all of us working so hard and for mostly wanting to be good and happy. And then death approaches and leaves us with no certainties.

Clay

I am striving to embrace emotionally the Buddhist view of life and our experiences as a succession of clouds on the sky: they come and they go, and that is all and that is enough. No permanence, rather impermanence. I am in awe of this task, trying to tolerate shapelessness when all I know is shapes, creating shapes with my hands, creating shapes in my mind by trying to find explanations and making sense of what I perceive.

I hope I will be able to peacefully embrace shapelessness in this lifetime of mine. I realize how lucky I am to have found a way to work on the answer to this question that stares all of us in the face with more or less intensity at some time in our lives, not just with my mind but with my hands and with my creativity.

So I love my work, because it allows me to express my appreciation for life and for all my fellow human beings with all our frailties, shortcomings and amazing strengths by casting in bronze: Yes, you were here, and yes, it matters.

Cast in wax

Pat: You have an extensive background in sculpture. What were some of your previous projects like?

Sigrid: I initially studied art to be a teacher. I did that for a while, but felt too limited by the challenge to foster and encourage the children’s creativity on the one hand and to judge/grade their work on the other.

When my son Theo started playing with play-dough around age 2, I would work alongside him and more and more sculptures took shape. They came from a place of need that most of us have, a need for moments of sweetness and peace. The idea to sell them arose from the supportive and positive comments of my family, friends and other people who saw the figures. My sculptures all come with a story and from experiences I had. I felt them in a dream or in real life, being a mother, a lover, sitting in meditation. I also expanded to more decorative items for the home and office such as sculptural mirrors, bowls and several small and larger fountains.

Finished bronze marker

Pat: As a European, do you see differences in the ways we grieve and memorialize in North America?

Sigrid: Growing up in a small town in Germany where I was known and identified by my rank in the family (my father’s oldest daughter and my grandfather’s oldest grand daughter), I remember vividly regular visits to the cemetery with my parents. Equipped with a watering can, a little rake and a rag to polish the gravestone we would make the rounds of the graves of relatives that had passed on. Most of them I had never met, but there was a place to visit them, and, being raised Catholic, we would say a prayer at the end of each visit.

My family and I went through the experience of burying a family member ourselves when my father passed away last August. There were visits to the stone mason, my mother and my sister took a trip to the quarry to select the granite onto which the bronze letters would be mounted. My mother planted flowers on the grave and makes a visit several times a week. It is a healing ritual, and in the area where I come from, it is as important as when I was a child. Overall I would say that there is more family involvement and more individualized memorialization there still. Graves look like small patches of gardens and are being tended by the people mourning. There is often ornate funerary sculpture, guardian angels or religious symbols.

Another difference is the fact that you get to own the grave for a limited amount of time only: after 25 to 30 years most graves usually are made available for new burials. This is true for German cemeteries. I don’t have information how it is regulated in other European countries.

In this country most people are no longer living close to their family burial sites. We get disconnected from the place and the ritual at life’s end.

Marker seated in granite

Pat: The biggest funeral industry catch-phrase these days is personalization. We put stickers on caskets or scan photos onto cards and gravestones. Much of the personalization is more like printing a logo onto the same t-shirt, rather than tailoring a garment to fit a specific person. What is the difference that an artist and the collaborative process can make in a memorial marker?

Sigrid: There is more humanity involved in the process, a connection is made between people, and the work reflects that. I am not saying that there is no humanity involved when you buy a marker online or through a catalogue. But it is limited. When working in close contact with the family, you can have a positive impact on the grieving process. You can engage the people in mourning in a last dialogue with their loved one through this piece of art. You can provide an opportunity for the family to express their love through their involvement in creating something beautiful and personal. Art can be soothing and a personalized memorial marker provides comfort through beauty.

Pat: Words on a monument, perhaps because of their finality and the need to be succinct, take on a lot of meaning. What advice do you give families on wording?

Sigrid: Sometimes it is harder for people who are very close to the deceased person, and very emotionally affected by their passing, to come up with a description of the person’s essence. It feels like a limitation, almost frustrating, to keep it short and succinct, three or four words. There is so much to say usually. That was the way it was in our family when my 17 year old son stepped up to the task, with the words “Loving and Caring.” Often someone with sort of a “beginner’s mind”, a child or an adolescent, or a family friend unencumbered by family dynamics, may have an easier time finding the key words. So it is worthwhile to consider if there is someone who is close but not too close to help with this task. There may be a person who knew the person in a religious or spiritual context who would be glad to be asked. Make it a conversation, use it as an opportunity to remember the person and what was special and important about him or her. Reminisce, cry, celebrate, and sooner or later the memories will get distilled into a few words that capture a person’s essence and presence and that will linger after they have passed on. You will know in your heart when you have found the right words: you feel that you have narrowed it down to what distinguished them from others and what was their life force.

A sample showing finish and border options

Pat: Have you thought about what you’d like on your own marker?

Sigrid: Yes, I have. This is a practice that can help provide guidance for your life, helping you become clear about what it is you are striving for. And it may change many times. I regard it as finding qualities to live up to, intentions that shape your actions and that describe your values. So I say with humility, knowing that I fall short daily, that the words I strive to achieve are: kindness - courage - grace. That for me would sum up a life well lived.

A sample showing finish and border options

Pat: Do you have many clients who arrange for the markers to be made prior to death?

Sigrid: I currently am working on a marker that unites seven members of a family. Only two of them, the father and the mother, have died. The other ones are their sons and daughters and their partners who are well into their fifties and sixties. The daughter was the person who contacted me. She had read about my work and was relieved to have found someone to help her realize her dream: to bring her family together, to have a home waiting for all of them at their lives’ end. She was very moved and happy to have found someone to help her make it happen. When you work with one of the big manufacturers, there are limits to what you can do. When you have only dates of birth and not the dates of death to work with, the dates of death will be added on later, etched on a small plaque and screwed on top of the marker. That always looked awkward to me and I figured out a way to make it look integrated and organic: the dates of birth will be part of the plaque, and the dates of death will be added when these times come. They will look identical to the first dates and will be added with the help of a set of numbers that I prepare and that can be used by someone else should I not be there to conclude the work. Such details are important to me and they require creative solutions.

A sample showing finish and border options

Pat: In the Bay area where you live and work there is the precedent of San Francisco outlawing burial within the city limits. Most people from San Francisco are in fact buried in Colma. How do you respond to those who say that cemeteries are a waste of good land, and how do you think San Francisco would be different if it still had cemeteries?

Sigrid: Until I started this work I wasn’t even aware of the fact that there are no cemeteries in San Francisco. Then I became familiar with Colma and its cemetery row, and it seems odd to me. It reminds me of what we do with old people: we farm them out into “senior communities”. We came to think that it is normal and desirable for an old person to live amongst people their own age, in senior ghettos. I drive by this huge billboard a lot, advertising senior living: “The life style our Mother deserves”, an older woman surrounded by beaming daughters and other family members. It feels self-serving (the relief of not having to care personally for an older person) and delusional (Mother wants to live in a ghetto ) and short sighted (the daughters will be shoved off into senior living by the grand daughters) to follow this train of thought.

A sample showing finish and border options

The same perception applies to creating a cemetery-free city zone with the argument that a burial ground would be wasting precious real estate. Yes, cemeteries take up space. But they also are part of the life of a city, town or village. Banning reminders of death beyond city limits so we can build more condos for the living. So we are not reminded of death.

I believe that cemeteries hold an important space among the living. They serve as reminders of what will happen to all of us. They provide comfort for those grieving. My mother visits my father’s grave several times a week. She visits with him and communicates with him there. It is important to have a place to visit. We are object-oriented people and people who assign spaces to experiences. By removing burial sites out of our daily lives we take away a reminder of our mortality. Only to be shocked into reality when it happens to someone close.

Pat: What can consumers and funeral service providers do to give the arts a greater role in memorialization?

Sigrid: There are consumers who are looking for artistic and unique ways to honor their loved ones. They simply need to be offered more artistic options when deciding on their memorials. My experience is that they will gladly participate.

The funeral industry could contribute by including artists’ work within the range of products offered. It also requires more creative contractual agreements: an artist is unable to work with a funeral home on a wholesale basis like the big foundries do. When you double the wholesale price the piece is usually way out of the financial range of almost any customer. A referral fee arrangement or a referral percentage would make it possible for the funeral home to offer more unique work alongside their traditional offerings, and for the artist to have his or her work exposed to people at the places where they go when a family member or friend passes on, the funeral home or cemetery. I think it is a good solution for all, the funeral service provider, the consumer and the artist.

Pat: I hope that funeral directors find more creative ways to work along with artists, celebrants and others so that families can truly benefit from all that is available for them. Thank you so much for sharing your experiences and thoughts with us! To learn more about Sigrid Herr's work, visit her Art of Remembering website, her sculpture website a recent article in the Contra Costa Times, and an article on her work in the SF Gate.

Original Post Date,  WEDNESDAY, JULY 14, 2010