Category: Divine Stone

Simon Verity as a Medieval Image Maker

For more than five years now, “I’ve been carving a necklace of prophets around the Cathedral’s throat, slowly, painfully, intuitively,” said Master Carver Simon Verity during a November 1993 lecture titled Work in Progress. “I’m searching out the wellsprings that gave life to the work of a medieval image maker. The opportunity to carve a whole wall of statues was unique. There is nothing like it going on in Europe.”

During this presentation, Simon outlined his process in carving the major-rank figures of the Portal of Paradise at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, which he was tirelessly working on at that time. Simon’s complete manuscript was recently uncovered in the Cathedral archives and included a number of drawings; some segments are presented below. 

“Dean (James Parks) Morton explained to me the significance of the ‘Easter Doorway.’ Patriarchs and matriarchs were to be carved to act as a procession to lead us into the interior, where we are to be transformed and then we go out through the side doors as martyrs, priests, doctors, whatever we are called to be,” Simon continued.

Simon viewed the task – to carve 16 major figures on 12 eight-foot-tall limestone jambs — as that of a “craftsman to clothe the iconography in form. The stem is the right ordering of the form through geometry. The fruit is a legible piece of work. If the work is true, it will be good, it will be beautiful,” he said during his talk.

“An icon painter writes his icon. The actual word, iconographer means ‘image writer,’” Simon explained. “And his work must be legible to whoever has to read it…The iconographer’s job is to clearly display the icon, which is the art itself…My work as a craftsman is to take the iconography given to me by the priests and clothe them in form.”

This major work gracing the west façade of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine was not Dean Morton’s first choice for a carving project.

In the late 1980s, the Dean created a limited international competition to find a sculptor to create and install the figures for the Preachers’ Portal on the porch of the southwest tower. The task involved carving the eight figures in a workshop, then installing the finished carvings in the empty niches on the porch. The tower — St. Paul’s Tower– was under construction and the focus of the Stoneyard Institute at that time.

In April of 1988, Simon visited the Cathedral and told Dean Morton that he would instead carve the figures at the central portal – which leads to the Great Bronze Doors. This made the project immensely more visible. Unlike the Preachers’ Portal, where the jamb stones could be carved in a studio and placed into the proper slots, the central portal blocks had been set at the portal in the late 1930’s and would have to be carved in situ – in place. 

“Putting in the uncarved blocks of stone like this was a mistake made by the architect (Ralph Adams Cram’s 1925 design), who thought that was how they did it in Chartres,” Simon wrote in an essay.

There were a total of 12 limestone blocks, each eight-feet tall, for the major-rank figures. The designated figures from the Old and New Testament were specified in the original plan, which Dean Morton described as “all male and unimaginative.” So, he assembled a group of religious theologians, including the Rev. Minka Sprague, who was a professor at New York Theological Seminary and a Deacon at the Cathedral, and Rabbi José Rolando Matalon, Senior Rabbi and Rosh Kehillah (Head of the Community) at B’nai Jeshurun in New York City, to update the list. Ultimately, there were more names than there were blocks. Simon would have to incorporate two figures on several of the jambs. 

Simon also wanted this significant undertaking to blend with other architectural elements of the Cathedral.

He continued his lecture: “With the geometry, I have recently been helped by the master (geometer) Michael Schneider. With him, I was able to resolve connections between the images to be carved and the architecture. The space taken by the statues in elevation is expressed geometrically in two vertical intersecting circles, all together symbolizing the Trinity. The floor plan of the Western doorway reveals intersecting octagons. So we can tie this symbol of the Trinity to the floor plan which relates to humanity and resurrection.”

Michael S. Schneider is an educator and author who wrote A Beginner’s Guide to Constructing the Universe: Mathematical Archetypes of Nature, Art, and Science and Mathematical Ideas for Artists Workbook. Schneider tells us, “he (Simon) organized the individual sculptures harmoniously with each other and with the building and space before it.”

“From points on the circumference of the circles on the wall, I can find departure points for my silhouettes that will need to be read from across the street,” Simon said. “By taking string lines from the octagons, I can mark out my main planes in plan. The link will be a sound harmonic that will give me the main shadows and mid distance.”

“The prophets are already in heaven, so they are draped in heavenly robes. This links them to the architecture with the shadows echoing the mouldings. As I work, the geometry unfolds like a flower, in plan, as a means of elevation,” Simon added to his lecture.

Also imbedded in the geometry is subtle body positioning of the figures and the direction of their gaze.  Simon carved the eyes of each sculpted figure to follow the visitor up the stairs in their sequence–each looking at a key point in the geometry, then passing us to the next set of eyes, all watching us enter each step from the street up to the central front doors and through the Great Bronze Doors.

According to Cathedral docent Tom Fedorek, “an intriguing aspect of the Portal of Paradise is how Simon Verity uses gaze to delineate relationships among the figures. The figures appear on the portal in chronological order from the outer figure on the north side (Melchizedek) to the outer figure on the south side (John the Baptist).”

This could explain why Simon’s first major carving was that of Melchizedek — so he could set a line of sight and connection to other figures carved later. Even though they are on diagonally opposite ends of the portal, two kings, Melchizedek, first king of Jerusalem, and David, its greatest king, look at one another.

Conversely, a recently contributed photo indicates that the first figure Simon carved on the south side was that of David.

David’s body is angled so that his gaze falls on his predecessor, Melchizedek, who returns David’s gaze. Furthermore, directly across from David, Samuel’s gaze rests on David. Samuel, the last and greatest of the judges and the first of the great prophets since Moses, recognized David as a future king and anointed him.

We see a different and equally dramatic use of gaze on the figure of John the Baptist – the outermost carving on the south side of the portal.

He is the one figure not looking at any of the other figures in the portal composition. Rather, he looks out at the city and incoming worshippers because, as he said of himself: “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness. Make straight the way of the Lord.” (John 1:23). 

There is one more notable feature about this figure – Simon carved the likeness of John the Baptist based on a homeless man who frequented the Cathedral at that time.

There is a connection, perhaps a shared gaze, between two of the female portal characters added by Dean Morton and his committee. It revolves around two mothers who conceived children in old age. Significantly, Sarah and Elizabeth are positioned directly across from one another in the portal. Sarah, on the north side regards Elizabeth, linked by the miraculous births of their sons, Isaac and John. Sarah, here, represents the Old Testament while Elizabeth appears in the New Testament Gospel of Luke.

While Simon carved the vast majority of the major-rank figures, he received help from a few other carvers.

Jean-Claude Marchionni, who was working on outside projects and restorations for Cathedral Stoneworks, joined Simon in 1993. In his lecture, Simon said of Jean-Claude, “I have been so helped by a young French stonecutter, Jean-Claude, who brings his own order and clarity, so that we work as (a) focused team.”

Simon also acknowledged the work of the apprentices as “young American carvers from the (stone) yard (who) poured out their passion and their pioneering spirit, only held in check by the architectural frame and the theology they served.”

Sebastien Casamayor, part of an exchange program with the Cathedral of St. Jean Baptiste in Lyon, France, carved parts of the major-rank figures. Simon once remarked that Sebastien “had thick velvet pants that the dust fell from at the end of the day, with a pocket to hold a bottle of wine – a standard feature in Dijon.”

Sebastien, according to a Cathedral guide to the portal, carved a significant element on the figure of David – the lyre he is holding. In Simon’s carving, David wears a crown and holds a scepter in his left hand, signifying his kingship. His right hand rests on the elongated instrument, which represents joy and divine connection. Many of the ancient hymns known as the Psalms are attributed to David. 

Patrick Berthaud, another French-trained carver, who spent seven months at the Cathedral, also assisted Simon on the portal when time allowed.

Of all the carvings of the major-rank figures, the face of Moses is the most unusual. His half-covered face refers to a passage in Exodus after Moses returned from Mount Sinai.

The same Cathedral guide indicates that apprentice Dennis Reed carved the head of Moses – or at least, part of it.

The importance of gaze also comes to play here – Moses looks away from the Cathedral because he never reached the Promised Land.

After Moses led the Israelites through the wilderness, he had an encounter with God on Mount Sinai. When Moses came down from the Mount with the two tablets of the testimony in his hand, he did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. “And, when Aaron and all the people of Israel saw Moses, behold the skin of his face shone and they were afraid to come hear him … And when Moses finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face.” (Exodus 34:29-30,33).

Two symbols on specific figures literally create Simon’s “necklace” around the entire portal composition. On his first carving on the north side, Melchizedek holds in his hand a chalice like those used for communion wine. Beneath his feet, two hands hold the consecrated bread – a Host.

Across from Melchizedek, on the south side, John the Baptist holds a shell, an ancient symbol of fertility and life. To this day, a shell is often used to administer the water of baptism. John is the final major-rank figure of the Portal of Paradise.

The shell in John’s hand signifies baptism, the chalice in Melchizedek’s, the Eucharist.

So, as you step into the cathedral’s central entryway, you are flanked by symbols of the two great Christian sacraments that are celebrated within the cathedral.

Later in his presentation, Simon said, “As I go down my journey, I think about the traditional craftsman. His work is all connected with gods and heroes so it belongs on temples and churches. His workplace, however humble, is his altar. It is but a different form of priesthood. His work is sacred and he blesses his tools before each day’s work.”

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Sources:

• Martha Cooper photographs
• Ivan Myjer photographs
• Amy Brier photographs
• Mary Bloom photographs
• Patrick Berthaud photographs
• Archives of the Episcopal Diocese of New York and Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine
• A Guide to the Sculptures – Nicole Di Paoli
• Tom Fedorek’s Guide to the Portal of Paradise
• Simon Verity – Master Sculptor (1945-2024) – Divine Stone
• Cathedral Newsletter, Summer 1994, Vol 8, Number 1
• Country Life – Patriarchs the Live Stone, March 11, 1999

(Robert F. Rodriguez has gathered memories of Nelson from family and colleagues from the stoneyard. – RM)

I had the most amazing dad. I remember spending days with my Dad at the Stoneyard when I was a child. Some of the best memories watching what my dad loved to do. He loved the Stoneyard and everyone he worked with.

– Gloria Otero

“I remember Nelson particularly for being immediately friendly when we met. 

“When he introduced himself he explained his role at the yard and I could tell he was proud of the work he was doing. I could also tell from this first impression that he was a determined and resolute guy.  

“He was a prominent, respected and industrious member of the stone yard crew, and the only one to fully master the idiosyncrasies of the planer, an antiquated, deafening beast of a machine used for milling long sections of stone moldings. This job required a lot of strength and the planer was a potentially very dangerous machine to operate. Not everyone’s choice of work but Nelson was clearly equal to the task and rose to the challenge taking a great deal of pride in his accomplishments. His work can easily be seen today in the jambs, mullions, piers and cluster columns of the South Tower.

“Nelson was never reluctant, in fact relished taking on demanding and physically challenging assignments. This included scaffolding projects requiring a lot of strength and the ability to work at height, again not everyone’s choice but he never complained or showed any signs of apprehension.

“His contribution to the stone yard and tower was tremendous. I am very grateful to have known him and greatly saddened by his untimely passing.”  – Stephen Boyle

“I didn’t have the pleasure of working with Nelson, but as a fellow Stone Mason, I am deeply saddened for his passing. I send condolences, from me and my children. In my heart, I feel that he is in that Great Stone Yard in heaven, with our Brothers and Sisters, Masons, designing our castle.” – Carol Hazel

“It saddens my heart today to know that a great family man, a good friend and a great Craftsman passed away. Back in October ‘91 was the first time I met Nelson. He was a big chap. Very quiet and controlled. He very kindly took me aside and explained the way the Cathedral worked and New York City as I was only 23 and from the countryside in England. Hill Street Blues TV show was all I knew. But, Nelson was grateful that I had come to the Cathedral and told me “I got your back.” He probably had something to do with why I stayed here in the US. Thank you Nelson and God bless his family.” – Chris Pascoe

Chris recalls a time when his car was parked outside the Cathedral, all set for a ski trip. When Chris came back to the car a while later, he saw that his car was broken into and all his equipment stolen. He said something to Nelson who disappeared for a while and came back an hour later with almost all of Chris’s gear. Nelson clearly found the unfortunate guys who had broken into Chris’s car.

“Nelson was a kid from the neighborhood, growing up on W. 94 St and Amsterdam Ave – about a mile from the Cathedral that would be his home for over a dozen years – from 1980 to 1994.
I remember him as diligent and precise in his work. As others have said – no one touched Nelson’s planer – a cantankerous, sometimes obstinate machine that only he could tame. There were times when I would see Nelson and Cathedral mechanic Barney Norman climbing all over the arms, tightening and adjusting belts and flywheels. And when he had that planer fine-tuned, he could trim and shape a long block of limestone in a flash.” – Robert F. Rodriguez

“In the stoneyard, newcomers were usually assigned to the saws, a common starting point before moving on to training as a stone cutter, banker mason. Nelson became the first planer operator—that beast of a machine, found abandoned near the quarry and then renovated. An English operator came to train Nelson and planned to stay for two to three weeks. By the end of the first week, Nelson had it all figured out, and his trainer left. Nelson was the mechanical genius of the stoneyard and owned the giant planer. He broke the tradition of moving from the machines to the stone cutter’s area. Jose Tapia encouraged Nelson to try his hand at stonecutting and tutored him in the process. Nelson told me it just didn’t do for him what working the giant planer did. He would operate that machine with pride for many years.” – Roger Murphy

Nelson was always so helpful at the stoneyard. Nelson knew that Angel had a talent for drawing and wanted something special for his daughter’s bedroom so he asked Angel if he could paint The Little Mermaid on his daughter Gloria’s bedroom wall. Nelson was so excited to have it done for her. – Angel Escobar

“Nelson was the planer operator. I can’t remember anyone else taking on the beast…with the exception of Alan. The machine was old and unruly, and could be downright violent. Once it backed up and punched through the corrugated metal wall giving the hotdog man on the street side quite a scare. The planer was located in the northwest corner of the machine shop. Nelson’s domain.

“Nelson was very industrious, and an aggressive entrepreneur. While most of us were struggling to pay rent, Nelson owned at least one tenement building before the age of thirty. He always had multiple projects in the works. He once asked me if there were any good junk shops up in New England. I told him there were many, and asked if there was something in particular that he was looking for. Without missing a beat he reeled out that he needed a dozen metal work tables and a 100 sewing machines. I guess I looked stunned. He explained that his wife was moving into fashion design and that he needed as many sewing machines as he could lay his hands on.

“Another time he asked where he could buy a fleet of used trucks. Not one or two…a fleet. I think he wanted to start a moving company. He didn’t do anything in half measures. And yet another time he caught me and Jeep on the street asking if we could help him unload a truck load of old window frames and toilets. He was always working on old buildings.

“He was also into physical fitness. I remember him hanging by one leg from the metal staircase outside the machine shop doing air sit-ups. I’d never seen that before. He would also have us do competitions to see who could carry the most bricks pinned between our forearms – no easy feat. He also gave out instructions on what to do in a street fight. I’ll leave out the details, but I remember it verbatim.” – Joseph Kincannon

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(This is an encore post from five years ago, December 20, 2020, that seemed appropriate to repeat. Happy Holidays to all from Divine Stone.)

In 1989, Dean Morton asked D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon to create an architectural drawing of the Tower of St. Paul. This was the tower being constructed and a symbol of the working stoneyard. Parts of individual construction drawings, stitched together, formed the entire new drawing. The result was one complete drawing of the west face of the southwest tower, to scale, with every stone numbered. It also shows the construction zones A (lowest) through K (highest) and FP, from elevation 239’3″ to 393’0″. Dean Morton sent the drawing out as Merry Christmas from the Dean. Signed at the bottom right.

The “card” must have amazed the recipients. It measured three feet wide and eight feet long. The detail and the precise joining of different drawings made for a beautiful presentation. “Jeep” Kincannon was justifiably proud of his work.

A Symbol of Pride and Love

The Dean was ever so proud of the stoneyard and the workers which is probably why he wanted to send this impressive statement to friends and colleagues. It was symbolic in many ways. A story he once told involved a question from one man to another. The question asked was “What do you give a poor man?” The answer:

You give him a dollar for bread, and another one for a flower.

Dean Morton knew the spiritual impact of the Cathedral building program on the community. At a time when the neighborhood was struggling in so many ways, some thought that all funds should be directed to social programs. In a way, the stoneyard was his flower to the community.

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• Thanks to Stephen Boyle for sharing his Christmas card with us and to Pamela Morton for the Dean’s photo.

(This is Part Two about the early work on the Portal of Paradise. It is written by DivineStone co-author, photojournalist and Cathedral Artist-in-Residence, Robert F. Rodriguez. All of the images in the article are those of the writer except where noted) – RM

Apprentices Tackle Portal Bases on South Side

In the spring of 1989, Master Sculptor Simon Verity hoisted a few planks onto thin steel frames to start the first full carving season for the Portal of Paradise.

The crew of Jessica Aujero, Joseph Kincannon, Dennis Reed and D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon had their assignments for the pedestal bases on the south side and started the roughing out. 

Jessica Aujero created an eerie and haunting work for her base carving. Beneath the major-rank figure of Ezekiel, she presents his dream in the Valley of Dry Bones, a prophecy in chapter 37 of the Book of Ezekiel.

On the upper part of the pedestal, we see grimacing skulls, struggling to free their bones from the earth. They lean forward menacingly, as if they intend to leap off the limestone base. Jessica also adds carvings of angels, some with animal faces, wheels with eyes and God’s chariot and fire — all representing total destruction.

At the very bottom of the carving, below the chaotic scene, is a sleeping Ezekiel. A disembodied hand touches his head, probably indicating that the reclining figure is dreaming, or it could be God’s hand commanding the prophet. Ezekiel finds himself transported by God’s spirit into a valley filled with dry, lifeless bones. God commands Ezekiel to prophesy over these bones, and as he does, they come to life, growing sinew, flesh, and skin. Yet, they lack breath, symbolizing Israel’s spiritual condition at the time. Following God’s instruction, with a gust of wind Ezekiel  breathes life into them, and they come to full life, symbolizing God’s promise to revive Israel.

A September 1989 Cathedral Newsletter conveys Dennis Reed’s process of carving the Visitation. “Beneath the feet of Elizabeth, mother of St. John the Baptist, Dennis Reed roughs out the figure of the older Elizabeth comforting the 14-year old Mary, who has come to her with the wonderful and terrifying news that she is somehow pregnant herself.”

“To carve this scene, I had to reach into myself, really think about it,” says Reed. “I see Mary right then as overwhelmed, confused, frightened. She went to Elizabeth for comfort.” 

Below the figures of the embracing women, Mary at Elizabeth’s knees, a pot overflowing with water is symbolic of motherhood. The water is also a symbol of the water John the Baptist would later use to baptize Jesus. (John the Baptist is also the last major-rank figure on the south side of the portal.)

On the column shaft, Dennis displays great artistry and carving skill in his depiction of an embryo bathed in the softly flowing water that gently cascades from the edges of the column. Delicate tiny toes and the outline of legs and a torso are suspended upside down, as if in the womb. They are barely visible, seen as though through a gossamer veil. 

The Cathedral article adds that from his perilous perch on the scaffold, Dennis enjoys the changing of the seasons and the enthusiasm of the passersby who stop to watch. “We hope we’ll be out here until October or November,” says Reed. “We see people in everything from T-shirts to mink coats.” He pauses a moment. “It breeds patience.”

D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincanon was a multi-talented member of the Cathedral Institute and sometimes had to move between projects.

Jeep started carving honeycombs and carob trees on the column shaft beneath the major-rank figure of John the Baptist. He was pulled off this job since he was also needed by Cathedral Stoneworks to work on templates for a project at the Jewish Museum. Several years later Jean-Claude Marchionni carved the upper half of the pedestal – adding oversized ears and a hand to instruct all to listen to the preaching of John, which foreshadows the coming of Christ. 

Jean-Claude would also go on to carve the two remaining pedestals on the south side. Beneath the major-rank figure of David, we see the entry of the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem (II Samuel 6). David is seen dancing to the left of the Ark and is semi-nude per the scripture (II Samuel 6:20). The chorus line of women below are dancing and making music to celebrate the Ark’s arrival. On the adjacent base Jean-Claude carved the Brooklyn Bridge collapsing. Snakes, spiders, skeletons — these images echo the words of the prophets of evil, malice, and doom.

Probably the most viewed and most recognizable carving on the Portal of Paradise is Joseph Kincannon’s depiction of New York City, including the Twin Towers, under a nuclear mushroom cloud.

The prophet Jeremiah foretold the destruction of Jerusalem and Joseph’s carving below that major-rank figure interprets the modern day destruction of Jerusalem by using the instantly recognizable skyline of New York City. The Gothic arches below represent the rebuilding of the “cathedral,” a symbol of hope after chaos.

Since the Sept. 11 attacks, the carving has gained more attention, both as a tribute or memorial to 9/11 but also among conspiracy theorists hypothesizing the work foretold the terrorist attacks. Joseph’s work predates the Twin Tower’s destruction by 12 years.

A New York Times article reports that sometime towards the end of 2018 and early 2019, something heavy crashed into Joseph’s Twin Towers carving, shearing off the miniature buildings carved in limestone and leaving a jagged void in the middle of his composition. No other carvings were damaged.

The act was not recorded and the Cathedral had a mystery and a quandary on its hands. Did a conspiracy theorist or some random vandal cause the damage? Church officials also had to decide whether to restore the carving or leave it ragged and broken.

Some, including Simon Verity, opposed any restoration, but the Right Rev. Andrew Dietsche, Bishop of the New York Episcopal Diocese, wanted the Twin Towers carving to be made whole again. Joseph, living in Austin, TX at the time, returned to the Cathedral for the repair job in the fall of 2019.

Ultimately, Joseph cut a small piece of limestone to the shape of the towers, and carved the distinctive vertical lines of the towers’ surface before applying epoxy to set the stone in place.

Joseph’s unexpected return to the scaffolding also triggered some memories, “It’s as if I never left. Very strange,” he said. He had a sense of déjà vu “with the familiar smells, sounds and yes, (remembering) Simon’s comments about the work in general.”

An old, annoying problem also resurfaced during his Twin Towers repair, Joseph recalls. “When I was first working on the portal carving, I would periodically blow the dust away and it would channel behind the little buildings and go right into my ear. I had to laugh at how ridiculous I felt because it kept happening.”

And, when he returned almost 30 years later, “the same thing happened! I blew away the dust, and into my ear, it went. I laughed out loud. Comic time-traveling. It put me right back there,” Joseph added.

Joseph recently confided that he left two autobiographical “secrets” in this carving.

He relates, “I carved the brownstone that many of us lived in at the time,” at 112^th St and Manhattan Avenue. Simon Verity bought the house and some of the Stoneyard crew lived there. It is seen on the left side of the carving as a small four-story building with a rounded corner turret, just below the crumpled Empire State Building. 

In addition, Joseph says, “I also carved a tiny version of myself carving inside the tower tracery,” based on a photograph that appeared in a 1988 Cathedral calendar. “A vain effort by an underpaid carver.”

The description in the calendar notes: “Joseph Kincannon carves the finishing touches on the capital of a main gablet for the south tower –St. Paul’s.” On the column base of the limestone pedestal, we see Gothic arches and the rebuilding of the “cathedral,” representing order in the world. Tucked into an upper corner of a gablet, Joseph carved a self-portrait — a hardworking, dedicated artist and stone worker intent on his work.

In the first two seasons, the apprentices’ work on the bases allowed Simon Verity to focus on carving the major figures above. Observing the collective effort from the nearby work shed, stone carver Theresa “Treese” Robb likened the combined work to a “beautiful orchestration – a symphony of different perspectives.”

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Sources:

• Cathedral Newsletter Sept 1989
• Cathedral Newsletter Dec. 1988
• Portal of Paradise: A Guide to the Sculptures
• New York Times, Nov. 15, 2019: The Mystery of the Tiny Twin Towers
• Bible: King James Version
• Wikipedia
  

(This is Part One of two articles on the early work on the Portal of Paradise. They are written by DivineStone co-author, photojournalist and Cathedral Artist-in-Residence, Robert F. Rodriguez. All of the images in the article are those of the writer.) – RM

Stoneyard apprentices contribute solidly to the first phase

Jessica Aujero Lowrie took a slow walk along 112th Street, the looming Cathedral of St. John the Divine getting larger before her. Memories and emotions arose as she neared the steps leading to the Portal of Paradise – a project she worked on over 35 years ago. This was her first visit since.

“I can’t believe we did this work,” she said, scanning the carved monument on three levels. “What a great thing we did.”

In the fall of 1988, Master Sculptor Simon Verity led a team including Amy Brier, Jessica Aujero (now Lowrie), Gabriele Hiltl-Cohen, Joseph Kincannon, Dennis Reed, D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon and later Sebastian Casamajor in carving the bases, or pedestals – the lowest level of the three-tier portal. The 12 major-rank figures would stand on these base carvings.

The primary work of this first short season was to start roughing out the eight-foot-tall limestone blocks of the major-rank figures and get a feel for working in situ. Using wide chisels and heavy hammers, the crew started removing the edges of the rectangular monoliths, chipping away at excess material as a preliminary step to carving.

The Portal of Paradise includes 32 carved limestone biblical figures based on the iconography developed by Cathedral architect Ralph Adams Cram and Bishop William T. Manning in 1925. Dean James Parks Morton wanted to make some updates to the original list of figures in consultation with the Rev. Minka Sprague and Rabbi Rolando Matalon, who remembers being summoned to Dean Morton’s office for a late-evening conversation on which figures should be included. From these meetings, a number of biblical women were added to the iconography.

Rabbi Matalon calls the Portal of Paradise “such an amazing, daring and bold work and it was also very inclusive. They (Dean Morton and Bishop Paul Moore) were aware of the Jewish roots of Christianity and they were committed that the link would never be erased. The Portals also reflect that commitment to celebrate the connection between Jews and Christians.”

The first full season of carving the portal began in April 1989. Jessica recalls working on thin and rickety scaffolding, carefully balancing on the planks to start work on her pedestal. She was the only apprentice to carve two bases. Elijah’s ascension into heaven appeared on the north side. 

According to the Bible (2 Kings 2:11), the prophet Elijah ascended to heaven in a fiery whirlwind, with his successor Elisha witnessing the event. Amidst Jessica’s swirling-column base, two carved faces barely emerge from the windstorm, almost gasping for air and seemingly caught up in the vortex. Her narrative blends harmoniously with the carving above of the figures of Elijah and Elisha.

Studying her work Jessica says, “I thought I was carving too deep but I see others that are deeper. In stone, you have to think structurally, also, where the (rain) water will land. When the water freezes, will it destroy or crack anything; can the water drip down cleanly. You have to think about those things.” Overall, Jessica feels the work has held up.

Simon Verity, in Jessica’s opinion, was a hands-off teacher. She remembers only doing a few preliminary sketches. “We would run an idea by Simon and he would say ‘go with it,’” which made Jessica feel nervous. “Simon was nearby and we could always ask each other. We had time to think about it while we were (working) – it was a slow process,” she adds.

On the north side of the Portal of Paradise, Amy Brier and Gabriele Hiltl-Cohen’s base carvings flank Jessica’s work.

Amy Brier worked on the base of the major-rank figure of Moses. She recalls, “being Jewish, I thought that was appropriate and I researched into his (Moses’) mythology as a magician (e.g. turning Aaron’s staff into a snake) and the Cabalistic aspects — the mystical side of Judaism.” The Cabala is the mystical writing of the Jews.

“I put the Tree of Life on the base, which is also a kind of feminist statement,” Amy adds. “Traditionally, the Cabala couldn’t even be studied by women, only by men, I think, over a certain age, who were married. I felt like I was putting my mark there.”

One of Amy’s preliminary drawings suggests she wrestled with the iconography for the base. Amy wanted to create a narrative image that expressed the fundamental gesture of Moses’ work and she sought guidance from the Rev. Minka Sprague. “We talked about Judaism and I learned a few things,” says Amy, who remembers Rev. Sprague as “the priest in pink shoes.” 

In a December 1988 Cathedral Newsletter article, Rev. Sprague addressed the importance of readings of religious texts. “In case any might feel unequal to Biblical interpretation,” Sprague said, “we’re all unworthy, but we are called on.”

Amy’s finished work shows the Cabala, depicted here using a helix-type figure, one of the Cabala’s several symbols. On the column below someone else started carving chain links that she icorporated into the design, along with the Red Sea, to represent bondage and escape from Egypt.

Samuel, the first of the great prophets since Moses, is the upper major-rank figure on the north side closest to the Bronze Doors. Gabriele Hiltl-Cohen’s task was to carve a complimentary base below. 

A Cathedral pamphlet provides more details on the Biblical character Samuel, who anointed Saul as king but warned the people that in choosing a king, they were rejecting God. This could be interpreted as no king is above the law of God.

Trained as a stone carver in Germany, Gabriele read pertinent Biblical passages and focused on Saul disobeying God in two ways: by making a rash oath that led to his soldiers sinning, and by failing to destroy the Amalekites and their livestock as commanded. Because of this disobedience, which stemmed from fear of the people and pride, God rejected Saul as king.

“I compared this to the current political situation,” says Gabrielle, referring to Iran-Contra, a political scandal in the United States that centered on arms trafficking to Iran between 1981 and 1986, facilitated by senior officials of the Ronald Reagan administration. The administration hoped to use the proceeds of the arms sale to fund the Contras, an anti-Sandinista rebel group in Nicaragua. The administration’s justification for the arms shipments was that they were part of an attempt to free seven U.S. hostages being held in Lebanon by Hezbollah.

Gabriele knew she had to be “very clear in (her) story telling.” Carving traditions from the Middle Ages had to be direct and simple when many people were illiterate.

Her carving shows the U.S. Capitol with bombs and hungry people in a depiction of the world gone awry under the wrong leader. For some, this interpretation can easily be applied to the current administration. 

Below the Capitol building, a man holds a suitcase full of money that is falling out of the bulging valise. This represents the proceeds from the illegal arms sales. Off to one side, an armed man seems to be guarding blindfolded prisoners. Gabrielle added a number of homeless people pointing to the illegal activity, acting almost as a Greek chorus. She based this grouping on some homeless who frequently took refuge on the steps of the Cathedral. 

“It reflected our current state of political and social injustices,” Gabriele reminisces, adding that Master Sculptor Simon Verity liked the idea of Gabriele adding the homeless to her piece.

Jessica said Gabriele’s carving of olive leaves on the slender column beneath her tableau was “beautiful – we were partners during the whole carving process.” 

While the apprentices were carving the pedestal bases, Simon plunged into work on the first major-rank figure, that of Melchizedek, a priest and King of Salem. By late October 1988, the facial features and elongated drapery of the eight-foot carving started to emerge. Simon worked tirelessly on the carving until it was time to remove the scaffolding for the season – one of the drawbacks to working in situ versus having the comfort and relative warmth of the carving shed.

The following season, besides continuing work on Melchizedek, Simon also carved two pedestal bases on the north side. Under the major-rank figures of Abraham and Sarah, he carved a depiction of a baby (Isaac, Abraham’s son) emerging from the womb and a spiral representing Abraham climbing the hill to sacrifice him.  His other base carving showed Jacob (the father of the 12 tribes of Israel) wrestling with the Angel of God during his dream, below the major-rank figure of Jacob.

At that time, according to Canon Edward Nason West, if a shed were erected around the portal construction zone, the crew could carve all year round – and keep their work from inquisitive eyes, the sidewalk superintendents as well as the gawkers and photo seekers.  However, that did not happen – with Simon and the apprentices becoming part of the never-ending street theater in front of the Cathedral.  

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Sources: 

• Cathedral Newsletter Sept 1989
• Cathedral Newsletter Dec. 1988
• Portal of Paradise: A Guide to the Sculptures
• Wikipedia