Remembering Ruben

Ruben Gibson rose through obsessively hard work from apprentice to stonecutter to carver to lead carver. Remembering Ruben, his contributions to the cathedral and his unique leadership role is important. The Cathedral Stoneyard Institute trained him to head the team of eight sculptors in the carving shed. There they transform rough hewn limestone into the intricately sculpted cornices, pinnacles, and capitals. The previous lead carver was an English master mason, Nicholas Fairplay.

Ruben Gibson grew up in a middle-class home in St. Albans, Queens, the son of a subway motorman. From his earliest days he drew and painted with astonishing skill and accuracy. After graduating from Richmond High School he studied English for three years at Long Island University. While In his 20’s. he lived in the Bronx, painting signs and becoming engrossed in sculpture, painting and theology. In 1979 he quit a job as an administrator at Mount Sinai Medical Center. Finally Ruben found the perfect marriage of his artistic talent and his spiritual quest – the building of a cathedral.

His associates said Ruben led a monastic, reclusive life completely devoted to stone carving. Most noteworthy it was said that he often found fault with large institutions like colleges and churches.

Remembering Ruben Early On

One of Ruben’s early jobs was being in charge of the machine shop. Steve Boyle, the master mason, was remembering Ruben in this job. “It entailed estimating which stones could be cut from the rough block and slabs. He would then oversee the sawing process ensuring that the overall dimensions of the stones were accurately cut to size. It was also important that the correct orientation of the natural beds were followed. In this way, when the stone was placed with the bed in a horizontal position it was in compression. This position required a good understanding of the fabrication process and a cool head. There was constant pressure to produce enough trade work pieces to keep the stonecutters going. Likewise there needed to be sufficient ashlars and quoins to maintain a respectable cube rate.

Ruben was well up to this task and was meticulous, painstaking and competent in his approach to everything. As a result he always produced work of a high standard in whatever capacity he was in. He demonstrated skill and talent at working with stone. Eventually these qualities led to him becoming the lead carver.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to say he turned out the best carvings of all of us.”

-Joseph Kincannon

Remembering Ruben’s Humor and Leadership

As the de facto leader among the workers, he was the first to champion any workers’ issues with management. Therefore Ruben always pushed for the advancement of his co-workers for whom he was a courageous and eloquent spokesman. When he took the floor, he was formidable, direct and uncompromising. John Walsh was the master of the stoneyard who appointed Mr. Gibson lead carver. Walsh said he was sometimes difficult to work with because he had strong opinions. Mr. Walsh would occasionally hire a talented sculptor from out of town. Ruben objected and wanted more stone carvers recruited from Harlem and other inner city neighborhoods.

Ruben was quick to laugh and everyone wanted to be his friend. Furthermore he was a person of unwavering strong convictions. Even so, they never begrudged him his hard lined stances. The grotesque he carved for the tower demonstrates his skepticism of the church hierarchy. It depicts an impish face with a large nose and tongue sticking out. Hence the face looks directly at Dean Morton’s office, the source of some of the policies Ruben disagreed with.

Humorous Grotesque

In August of 1988, Ruben Gibson’s work was cut short. He died of kidney failure at the age of 39. He passed away in the AIDS ward at St. Lukes-Roosevelt Hospital Center. His co-workers visited him often throughout this time. Remembering Ruben as a complex, talented and genuine person always.

His loss is a deep loss, it’s not just a matter of filling his slot, because he was totally dedicated to the enterprise. It was his life.

-Rev. James Parks Morton

• New York Times, Jan 29,1989
• New York Times, Feb 23, 2001
• Los Angeles Times, Oct 31, 1987
• Thank you to all his co-workers for their memories.