1. Transcript
1.1. TAPE NUMBER: I, SIDE ONE APRIL 6, 1976
- GALM
- Miss Kent, we usually start these interviews by getting some important
facts such as when you were born, and where you were born.
- CORITA
- Um-hmm. I was born in Fort Dodge, Iowa, in 1918.
- GALM
- What was the month and day?
- CORITA
- November 20.
- GALM
- And I know from my research that the family didn't spend much time
there.
- CORITA
- No, we left, I think, when I was about eighteen months, and we moved to
Vancouver. We stayed there for maybe a couple of years, because when we
then moved to Los Angeles, I was not yet ready for school. So I remember
that I must have been by that time maybe four or five.
- GALM
- What had your father been doing in Fort Dodge?
- CORITA
- He was working with my mother's father in--what was their business? My
grandfather had a farm, but he also had another business, but I can't
think what it was. And then another brother came in, and there wasn't
enough space for both of them. So then my father joined his brother, who
had a restaurant in Vancouver. And that's why we moved there — it was
for his work.
- GALM
- Had the Kents settled in Iowa?
- CORITA
- Yes, my grandmother and grandfather — these were the Sanders, now — my
mother's mother and father had the farm. And the Kents had lived in
Minnesota--Minneapolis . And how they got together I don't know.
[laughter] Missed that part of the history. We're terrible about the
history of our family.
- GALM
- Are those English or Irish?
- CORITA
- Irish, yes.
- GALM
- On both sides?
- CORITA
- No, my father, his parents were both born in Ireland. And my mother's
father was born in Holland, and my grandmother was French-Canadian--and
then previous to that, the family was in Chartres, that side of the
family.
- GALM
- How many family members preceded you? How many children?
- CORITA
- We were six, and I was the fifth.
- GALM
- So then the family settled in Vancouver, and your father would have
worked in the restaurant business for a while. What brought him to
Hollywood?
- CORITA
- I don't know what brought him to Hollywood, except that I remember we
came on a boat. [laughter] Ship, I guess, in those days. But we came--it
was probably, again, a matter of work. But I don't remember what changed
to bring him down here. But meanwhile, my mother's parents had moved out
here. My grandfather must have been a very enterprising man in those
days, being that age, and had bought property in Hollywood. He had, oh,
several units, which he rented. And then we lived in one of those. And
after my grandfather and grandmother died, my mother managed that until
— really, until she died.
- GALM
- Where was that located?
- CORITA
- It was 6616 De Longpre Avenue.
- GALM
- Right in the heart of Hollywood.
- CORITA
- Right in Hollywood, yes. We used to ... . At that time there was a
vacant lot where there are now buildings, and across the street was this
De Longpre Park, which used to be called something else. But I think
it's now back to De Longpre. It's just one--like a half a block. And
there was moviemaking going on there, I remember, from time to time. So
we were that close to Hollywood. That was about it.
- GALM
- So then when it was time to go to school, where did you go?
- CORITA
- I went to school about three or four blocks away, at the Catholic
elementary school. Blessed Sacrament [School] , which is on Sunset, and
I went there for nine years. At that time they had a junior high system.
And then I went to Catholic Girls High, which is now called Conaty High,
on Pico street, which was a school for girls taught by different
communities of nuns. And when I finished high school, I went that summer
to Otis Art Institute, and then the following September [1936], I
entered the community at Immaculate Heart.
- GALM
- How did you decide to go to Otis during the summer?
- CORITA
- Well, I had always been interested in art, since the time I was really a
young kid.
- GALM
- How young a kid?
- CORITA
- Let's see, how young a kid? I can remember always making things, like
designing things, paper dolls and their clothes, and then drawing. And I
had a couple of nuns, especially one — in the sixth grade, I think--who
at that time was taking courses herself at UCLA and took quite an
interest in my talent; and she gave me the classes that she was getting.
So it was really great fun. This was after school on a private basis,
and I think that was the real beginning of that kind of encouragement.
My parents — my father especially had always been very encouraging. But
both my parents were always encouraging. I took it very lightly; I
didn't think of it as being anything too much. But I was always
interested. I did the posters in school and all that.
- GALM
- What form did this encouragement from your father take?
- CORITA
- Well, it was interesting because outside of that one nun. Sister
Noemi--who was really, I think, on to a more stable grasp of the
field--most of the training I had was really very bad. I took art in
high school, and we had this dear old nun who would let us copy things.
We got to choose what we were to copy, and that was the extent of
freedom there. [laughter] I missed the first year because I came in as a
sophomore, but I think the first year we could choose anything from the
drawer that had pencil drawings, and copy from that. And we would
enlarge them. The second year was charcoal, and the third year was pen-
and-ink. And the fourth year, which I never got to, was oil painting.
[laughter] So it was very .... And I remember my father--getting back to
that question--always saying, "Why don't you do something original?" And
it just never occurred to me. I think as a younger child I did things
out of my head. But then I got into this kind of training, and I thought
that that's the way to ... . I found in later years, though certainly it
was balanced from a lot of other things, that it was not a bad thing to
have as a kind of discipline and control, in a sense. In a lot of other
ways it was terribly harmful because--certainly it's not the way I would
go about teaching art to young people.
- GALM
- Did your father have some of the artist in him?
- CORITA
- Very much so, and I think it never got a chance to be developed because
— well, I think he was probably meant to be a poet. He could play the
piano; he was just a really fun guy. And he was burdened, I think, by
six kids. And my mother, too, I think was really probably meant to be
more a person of my kind of life, who had a chance to develop her own
thing. So they were both, I think, people who were saddled with six kids
at a time when Catholics had lots of kids--and I guess Catholics still
do. [laughter]
- GALM
- If they're good Catholics.
- CORITA
- And so my father, I think, really would have loved to, was really gifted
in his own right, and probably instinctively saw that in me as something
he didn't have a chance to develop, and he meant to see, or was hoping,
that I would. But he died when he was fifty-six, so he really didn't
have much chance to see what happened--except I think he sees it from
another space. [laughter]
- GALM
- Was there any art in the home?
- CORITA
- No, the usual reproductions, you know, that ....
- GALM
- It would have been more religious art?
- CORITA
- No, not necessarily. I can remember — and I should be able to say the
artist — that kind of grand nineteenth- century picture of the three
horses' heads. You probably have seen it.
- GALM
- Nothing comes to mind.
- CORITA
- Well, that, I remember, was in my parents' bedroom. Then there were a
lot of my own things always framed around the house that I had done on
my own in high school.
- GALM
- Did you sense in later years that the poster work that you'd done was
really the beginning of the later work?
- CORITA
- Never thought of it until you just said so. Uh-huh. No. But the first
time I used words in a picture was probably back in the early fifties. I
began very soon after, when I began my prints. I began printing in 1951,
and it was in those early prints that they did have words in. And I
remember we had this very remarkable professor come to teach for us who
had come from Germany with the general exodus in Hitler years. He had
been the director of painting at the Berlin museum, I think, and was
just a--oh, one of the greatest men I've ever known. Besides being a
very good art historian, he had fathered many of the group, like [Paul]
Klee and [Vasili] Kandinski, had arranged for some of their first
one-man shows and that sort of thing, was a good friend of [Lyonel]
Feininger (they were very close friends up until the end) . And I think
he was the one who first — I always count him and Charles Eames as the
people who educated me. Even going through school, the teachers I had
were — many of them were probably splendid, but those were the men who
really had, I think, the ability to pass on concepts, and not so much a
string of facts.
- GALM
- Was that Mr. Laporte?
- CORITA
- No, this is Dr. [Alois] Schardt, who preceded him.
- GALM
- And he came out of Berlin?
- CORITA
- Paul Laporte also came from Germany. There was just I think a year in
between when we lost Dr. Schardt and found Dr. Laporte.
- GALM
- Where did he go from Immaculate Heart?
- CORITA
- Dr. Schardt?
- GALM
- Yes.
- CORITA
- He died.
- GALM
- Oh, he died.
- CORITA
- Yes, in Christmas of — '56 comes to me, but I wouldn't be terribly sure
of that date.
- GALM
- Did he come directly then from Berlin, or at least from Europe, to
Immaculate Heart?
- CORITA
- No, I think he must have been around for a while before we found him.
And at that time, he was also teaching courses at USC and Claremont. But
he was a great combination of a real mystic, if I've ever known one, and
a genuine historian. And he just had a remarkable sense of drama as a
teacher. He really hated teaching; he just dreaded it. Monday morning:
"This is no way to begin a week," as he always said, and I think felt
especially cursed with teaching young kids, because their education in
his eyes was just so abysmal. [laughter] He would talk about things that
they had never heard of. They just didn't know stories from the Bible
when he was trying to just tell the content of a picture, and he just
couldn't believe what they didn't know.
- GALM
- Did he think that American education was to blame, or was it ... ?
- CORITA
- Oh, I'm sure he did, yes.
- GALM
- Do you think of any other stories that might illuminate his personality
or his mystical quality?
- CORITA
- Well, there was one marvelous scene I have in my mind. At that time at
school, we were making banners and getting people to bring us all their
junk jewelry and old beads and buttons and things, and we had a great
box of them. And I remember walking into the room once, where this box
was. The light was not on, so it was in darkness, and here was Dr.
Schardt. He was a large man, with white hair, and with great presence.
And here he was, bending over this box, picking up pieces of jewelry.
And he said, "I have a tree at home" — I don't know what he called it,
the tree of wonder or the tree of delights or something like that — and
he said, "I'm looking for pieces to hang on it." And this was a branch,
a big branch with many little branches. But he had that kind of quality
that really had reached the simplicity that you read about, that you
would like to reach — you know, the simplicity of a child. And then I
remember once when Mortimer Adler came to school to speak to the
students, I was sitting next to Dr. Schardt. And at one point he pulled
a piece of paper and pencil out of his pocket and started, and I
thought, "Well, this is sort of the supreme honor to Adler, to have Dr.
Schardt take down something he said." [laughter] I didn't really notice
what he was doing, but pretty soon he handed me this piece of paper, and
it was a drawing, a beautifully simple drawing of a rose, open, looking
full into it. And he said to me, "This is the mystical rose. This is
going to be my design when I make my banner." [laughter]
- GALM
- So he wasn't even listening to Adler at all.
- CORITA
- And then the next day, the next class we had, this very bright young nun
came in. She was all agog from Adler 's talk, so she said to Dr.
Schardt, "Wasn't he marvelous?" And Dr. Schardt said, "Well, he is a
bright young man," or something to that effect. The young nun thought he
hadn't really understood what Adler had said, so she began to tell him
what his talk was about, to explain it to him. It was a marvelous thing.
[laughter] But it seems to me that at the same time — back into the room
where he was choosing the jewelry — Charles Eames had come, dropped in
for something. He had just come home from an exchange program between
Germany and the United States. The German artists were to come here and
bring something of America home to Germany, and vice versa. And Charles
had chosen to do the two churches--you may have seen his film called Two Baroque Churches [ in
Germany ] ; one is Vierzen- Heiligen and the other is
Ottobeuren, Franciscan and Benedictine baroque churches--because he
thought that was a marvelous example to young architects of real
enthusiasm that flowered into work, instead of just kind of heady stuff
onto the drawing board adapted from somebody else's something. So he was
fresh home from Germany, and he was describing these churches, which
were of course very familiar to Dr. Schardt — the great drama of the
architects. I think it was Vierzen- Heiligen where the approach is
extremely simple farmland; and this is the way the film begins, showing
the patterns of the earth and the growing green things. So that's rather
plain and flat. And then the facade of the church is quite classical and
simple, and then you open the door — and Charles is describing this —
and then you open the door, and there's this great burst of, I don't
know, like theater or something. And they both said at once, "And this
was no accident!" [laughter] This was real planning. And it was so
marvelous to see the two of them together, because of course Charles was
much younger, and Dr. Schardt so seldom, I think, met a person who was
kind of equal to him. He was always the sort of great-grandfather of it
all.
- GALM
- Well, you mentioned that you were picking up concepts from him. What
concepts?
- CORITA
- I think the main thing I got from him was the sort of the notion that
change is the constant in art, and that each period really came out of
the blood and bones and life of that time and couldn't be any other. He
often took a subject matter and would trace it back through the periods
and show how the same subject matter would be treated in completely
different manners by different ages, and the difference between Northern
and Southern Europe, how they expressed things. So you got a sense that
. . . because, as I say, my knowledge was very ... I think I was in the
middle of my college education at that time. I had gone through
Immaculate Heart in kind of a fast way, while I was teaching. I would
take courses at night and on Saturdays, and it was sort of squashed in
between the teaching and what you had to have ready for the next day.
And so then when I went to Victoria, B.C., it wasn't until I think in
the late forties that I came home from Canada and then finished my M.A.
at USC. But it was during those years that I was part going to school
and part teaching that I used to — in fact, I think for almost all of
Dr. Schardt's classes, I showed slides for him because I wanted to be
there. I could do it and hear him at the same time. But you didn't want
to miss anything he said.
- GALM
- Had your own art developed at that point? I mean, could you see his
influence upon your art, or ... ?
- CORITA
- No, not really, except that I had an exhibit which I remember he came
to, and he pointed to one of the pictures, one of the very early ones
[Benedictio ] — well, this was a very
early-on exhibit — that had words in it. And he said, "Ah, that is very
good." And that from him was really fantastic, [laughter] because he
really didn't ever say anything much about anything that was around. He
said, "I think you have done something very special"--or words to that
effect--"with the words, the word and the other forms." That didn't
strike me--I mean, I didn't then start doing words and form together
because he said that. But a number of years later, that came back to me,
and I thought, huh, you know, I went ahead and sort of developed that
way. And how much that small word of praise was unconsciously
influential, I don't know.
- GALM
- What did words mean to you as a child? Did they have special meaning?
- CORITA
- Yes, I always loved to read. I just was a great reader.
- GALM
- I'm trying to picture Hollywood at the time, whether it was as
billboard-crazy as it is today or not.
- CORITA
- No, no, I think, especially our little neighborhood. It was kind of a
simple little neighborhood, almost like this, and there really were no
billboards, say, between home and school, [laughter] or between home and
Holly-. ... Of course, Hollywood Boulevard was a very familiar stretch
to me. It wasn't quite as junky as it is now, but pretty much so. It was
never very great architecture. [laughter] But I don't think the
billboards or magazines — probably before the picture magazines,
certainly .... But as you say, the fact that I had really — I think I
always loved printing. In fact, I remember a friend in high school--we
used to have kind of friendly rivalry going on together, and I remember
she said to me on one occasion, "You can print, but I can draw."
[laughter] So even my drawing ability wasn't quite up to snuff — or she
thought so.
- GALM
- Did you have any calligraphy in high school, or would that come later?
- CORITA
- No, I really developed the — I mean, the posters I just did without very
much, if any, help from anybody. The actual calligraphy came — well,
there was a time when I met Martin Oberstein, who is a calligrapher ,
and he gave me a lesson. He'd dropped into the school for something and
showed me how to use broad-edged pen. So from then on I was on my own
and learned how to do that, and then I taught it. But then finally, I
suppose from seeing posters and reproductions of posters, I got ideas of
there being different possibilities of using letter forms. And I always
think of the letter forms as much objects as people or flowers or other
subject matter. I don't think of them as anything different. I think a
picture with all words is as much a picture as something with abstract
shapes or recognizable shapes. I think it's all a matter of the spacing
and the kind of totality of the picture that either looks good or
doesn't look good.
- GALM
- When you were doing these posters as a child, did you always like to
hand-letter them, rather than using a form or cut-out letters?
- CORITA
- I think I always hand-lettered them because that was the only way
available to me, and I probably hadn't thought of any other way of doing
it. I would illustrate them from time to time, too, so it wasn't just
printing.
- GALM
- Why don't we pick up with the chronology? At what point did you decide
that you wanted to become a nun?
- CORITA
- That was just after high school.
- GALM
- So it wasn't something that was always . . . ?
- CORITA
- Yes, in fact, my very closest friend was just utterly shocked when I
told her, during the summer after we graduated, that I was going to
enter this community. So it was a well-guarded secret. I don't remember
keeping it a secret, but I guess I just didn't talk about it. And she
said, "When did you make up your mind?" And I said, "I don't know. I
think I just always have wanted to be."
- GALM
- Had anyone preceded you into the order at that point?
- CORITA
- Yes, it was a typical Catholic family. I had an older brother [Mark] who
was a priest and an older sister [Sister Ruth] who had entered that same
community. These were the nuns who taught me in grammar school.
- GALM
- How much older is the older sister?
- CORITA
- Let's see, I'm going to be fifty-seven this year, and she must be
sixty-four.
- GALM
- So having religious in the family was sort of a common thing, growing
up?
- CORITA
- Oh, yes, and I'm sure my parents had the general idea that this was a
great thing to be.
- GALM
- In one interview or article, it mentioned that you had wanted to become
a missionary sister. Is that accurate?
- CORITA
- No — you can't really believe all these things. [laughter]
- GALM
- Well, that's why I asked — I thought we would at least...
- CORITA
- In fact, I remember the community opened a house in British Columbia, in
which half of the nuns taught regular Canadian children in the
elementary school in the city, and the other half taught on an Indian
reservation. Everybody was just dying to go, and I wasn't. I thought
there must be something wrong with me because I hadn't the slightest
desire to go. And then during that first year that that mission had
opened, one of the sisters up there became ill, and I was sent up to
replace her. All through that whole period of my younger days in
religious life, whenever I was changed from one house to another house,
I just really hated to leave where I was; and then when I got to the new
place, I hated to leave that. But so I did teach in Canada. I taught at
the Indian school for about — let's see, I was up there three and a half
years, and I think I taught a year and a half there, and the rest of the
time at the Canadian school.
- GALM
- When you decided to enter the sisterhood, had you seen yourself as
becoming an elementary teacher?
- CORITA
- No, in fact, it's always very humorous to me when I look back because I
was quite sure that I couldn't teach. I had a low estimation of my
intelligence, and I thought I really wouldn't ever be able to teach. And
yet, that was the only thing these nuns did.
- GALM
- You couldn't even be a cook-sister.
- CORITA
- No, I had no notion of being a cook-sister, [laughter] I mean, I was
very young, and that was how unrealistic I was. As a matter of fact, I
began teaching almost as soon as I entered because I somehow was always
chosen to go when they needed a replacement, even though I hadn't
arrived at the teaching stage yet (because in the first year, year and a
half, you were being trained, and you didn't teach at that time except
in cases of extreme emergency) . So I really got my beginning in
teaching in a very rough way because I had no training and not much
education at that time, having just finished high school.
- GALM
- Did that make it better or worse?
- CORITA
- Both, I think. [laughter] Yes.
- GALM
- So then the chronology after that: Did you get a degree from Immaculate
Heart?
- CORITA
- Yes, I got my B.A. from Immaculate Heart. And then I began taking
courses. I took courses at Chouinard, and I took one summer at Woodbury
and, I guess, several summers at use, and then I went to Canada. And I
think it was then about '45 when the accreditors came to the college. At
that time there was just one full-time member of the art department, and
the other people were coming in from USC and UCLA to teach a class or
two. And the accreditation group said that there would have to be at
least two permanent members. So, I guess, of the community, I was the
one who had the most points toward a degree and apparently the most
talent, so then I was sent back down. I taught part time at the college
and finished at USC whatever units I needed to complete the degree.
- GALM
- Why were you sent, or why did you select USC?
- CORITA
- I think the general idea was that Sister Magdalen Mary, who was the sole
member of the art department, had gotten her training at UCLA, and she
thought it would be a good idea to have a difference, if there was a
difference between the two schools.
- GALM
- Were you being then sort of trained as an art historian, or as a . . . ?
- CORITA
- Well, I got my degree in art history, but mostly I think it was because
by that time, we really didn't respect any art teachers, [laughter] and
so thought that the art history would be a better background, and that I
could take care of the art — you know, what do you call them? — studio
classes, so to speak, on my own. But there were, of course, studio
classes. I mean, I did take studio classes along with the history
classes.
- GALM
- When did Sister Magdalen Mary come to the department?
- CORITA
- Goodness. She is about ten years older than I am, and she was probably
there — oh, I don't really know; I'm just making a rough guess — maybe
from five to ten years before.
- GALM
- What status did the department have at that point?
- CORITA
- I suppose about the same as the other departments in the college. I
think it was young and struggling, with some good teachers coming in and
out, and Sister Magdalen Mary was an excellent teacher. But always, as
far as students were concerned, there were always very few students. In
fact, it wasn't really till the last, oh, I'd say, ten years that we
began to get art majors in greater quantity. It was always rather a
small department in comparison with the other departments.
- GALM
- What would you do, just give a B.A. with a major in art?
- CORITA
- Um-hmm.
- GALM
- Had Sister Magdalen Mary been handling the painting and studio classes,
too, at that point? Or some of them?
- CORITA
- Yes, and supplemented by outside visiting professors from UCLA and USC.
- GALM
- Again, in my research I'd read that she wasn't an artist herself.
- CORITA
- No. Of course, she painted while she was in school, but then she didn't
ever really get started doing anything on her own as far as painting.
- GALM
- What kind of teacher was she?
- CORITA
- She was a marvelous teacher; she really was — a great teacher. In fact,
I think she taught me a lot of things about teaching. We used to spend
some time, Sundays usually, and pin up the students' work from our
different classes and just talk about them; and I think those were great
learning experiences for both of us and sharpened us from both sides.
And then, let's see, she and I went to Europe for about three months at
the end of '59 and beginning of '60. By that time we had begun the folk
art collection, but then we just added tremendously to it. She was a
just a fantastic businesswoman, as far as getting good bargains and
finding good things. So we brought home just literally truckloads full
of things, and that was the great bulk of the collection, to which she
then became very much attached and interested in. And her interest
gradually went in that direction, I think even away from the teaching.
And then I — let's see, '68, I left the college in '68, and I'm trying
to work backward to think — I was probably head of the department about
maybe five years, or does it say someplace authoritatively? It would be
a help. [laughter]
- GALM
- I think you were head of the department for about four years.
- CORITA
- Four years. So then it was probably about in '64 that Sister Magdalen
Mary decided to go to England and spend some time collecting and
studying. She had not been very well, and I think she also wanted a
change. So at that time, I was just the obvious next one, and so I
became the head of the department until the time I left, which was in
'68.
- GALM
- How did you work together then to build the department from what it had
been to what it became?
- CORITA
- Well, I think we were both demons for work, and I was probably a little
worse. I used to give very outlandish assignments, which I kind of gasp
at now. But, well, I figured then, and think perhaps differently now,
that there were people of different interests in the class, and that
those who were really interested would be challenged, and wouldn't,
wouldn't do it anyway; and so, somehow or other, things would level out.
But then, I think it was in '51, because that was the year I finished at
SC — the last four units I took were optional, and I could take anything
at that point because I didn't need anything except the numbers, so I
took a printmaking class. I had done some silk-screen work on my own,
but not to any great extent, and so I decided to just take the class and
do serigraphy the whole time for those four units. And I always got
teased because they always called it my class at home, because I very
seldom went to class. I would stay home and work and then go in and show
them because it was simpler that way. And during that course I made two
prints. And the summer following that, I looked at one of them, and it
was really so bad that I started adding colors on top of it, making a
completely new print, which is that print hanging over there called The Lord Is With Thee. It turned into a
completely different picture because underneath it was a picture of the
Assumption, with a very, as I remember it, a kind of fashion-modelish
lady in the center. It was a very unwhole picture. And the reason that
that's kind of historic for me in a way is that we decided to enter it
into the County Museum show where they had a show of prints, paintings,
and sculpture in different divisions. And it won the first prize in the
print division, which was just sort of overwhelming. And then that year,
I entered it into a number — it won the first prize at the Sacramento
State Fair and a number of other places . And so then we got into the
exhibition work. We used to send the students' work to exhibitions along
with my own things. We would go to the exhibit and then get to know the
other printmakers and trade prints with them. So we began a print
collection and got into the art world, so to speak, more than we had
been before. And then yearly, around Christmastime, we would to to New
York, by way of giving lectures along the way to pay for the trip, and
see what in those days .... This was in the middle fifties to the middle
sixties, before art got from New York out here so fast, or before Los
Angeles was the kind of a center it is now. What was happening in New
York was a number of years — at least a couple, maybe one--ahead of Los
Angeles. So we would go to see what was going on at the Museum of Modern
Art and the galleries, and do a little collecting, and, as I said,
lecturing at different universities and schools as we went along the
road.
- GALM
- Were these mainly Catholic schools at that time?
- CORITA
- No, not necessarily, not necessarily. It was wherever somebody had heard
about us and wrote and asked. So I think that helped extend us into the
art world. And then I remember, I initiated a program, which probably
extended over the last two, maybe three years that I was at the college.
We called it our Great Men series, which of course we wouldn't call it
today! But I just invited people like Charles Eames and Peter Yates and,
oh, a number of different people. We had--who was the great director who
discovered Marlene Dietrich?
- GALM
- [Josef] von Sternberg.
- CORITA
- Von Sternberg, yes. And I think they were all partly amused. Buckminster
Fuller was another, and Virgil Thomson. I just wrote to them and said,
"We have this program of great men; we would like you to be one of our
great men and come." We asked them not to prepare a talk but just to
come and tell whatever they wanted to tell about their own life, how
they had gotten to where they were, and then to answer questions from
the students. By this time, I guess Sister Magdalen Mary had left, but
we had always felt a need to bring outside people in. For a long time we
were limited to a faculty of three, and we thought bringing other people
in to talk and lecture would be broadening for the students. And then we
had the students keep their Friday afternoons free of any classes, and
we went on field trips or had somebody come to talk to the students. We
did that for, I suppose, the last ten years I was there.
- GALM
- Now, this Great Men series would have been for the entire student body?
- CORITA
- Well, no. We wanted to keep it rather small, so we had the art majors,
and we would give like two invitations to each department, so that they
could send members; and of course anybody from the faculty was always
free to come. So it was a little bit exclusive.
- GALM
- Yeah, it sounds it. [laughter]
- CORITA
- And we taped those, and those tapes are around at the college someplace,
I'm sure. They were really marvelous, marvelous nights.
- GALM
- Who taught you printmaking at USC? Do you recall?
- CORITA
- Yes, I recall him, and I'm trying to think of his name. He later went to
New York to teach, and — [Michael] Andrews? Andrews comes, and I'm not
sure. I have a terrible memory.
- GALM
- Much of an influence on you, or just mainly in teaching techniques?
- CORITA
- No, not really. In fact the person who really taught me serigraphy is
Mrs. Martinez. I don't know if you're familiar with Alfredo Martinez,
who was one of the Mexican muralists. He did murals, but in his spare
moments he would do silk-screen prints, and he did them on newspaper, on
anything. And then when he died, his widow decided that she wanted to
perpetuate his work. So she went to one of the art schools, learned the
technique, and reproduced a number of his paintings. And so going back,
I'm not sure if he did silk-screen work himself or if these were all his
wife's. But I remember before I had taken the class at SC, I had a
silk-screen kit, and I wanted to teach the students how to do this. So I
began experimenting, and I did — in fact, my first work was a little
card with calligraphy on it. I was using the photographic process
because that was the process described in this little kit, and I got
along fine through the developing and the printing and then the printing
on the silk screen. But when it came to the removing of the stencil from
the silk screen, I evidently didn't have the proper solvent. I was
scrubbing away one day at this screen, trying to get it off with
different things, and one of the students came and said, "I know a lady
who knows how to do silk-screen work. Would you like to meet her?" And I
said, "Sure." So she came over and in an afternoon just told me all she
knew. She showed me some things, and that was really all you needed to
know. It's a very simple process. And from then on, with experiment and
with just doing it, I think I learned the rest. But I don't think I
really learned anything new at SC. It was just a time to be able to make
prints.
- GALM
- And to get your degree.
- CORITA
- And to get my degree, right. Don Goodall was really a very good sport.
I'll always remember him kindly because I remember looking at the
program — see, I hadn't had an art major as an undergraduate--looking at
the requirements for a master's and thinking, "My God, this is going to
take me six years or so to fulfill all these requirements." So I went to
see him, and I told him what I had been doing, what I had done. And he
checked over and said, "Well, you don't need this, and you don't need
this, and you don't need this"--because in experience, I had them, and
he was great enough to recognize that. So actually it was cut down
considerably, and I was able to finish. It only took me eleven years to
get my master's all in all. [laughter] But that was along with teaching
and all; it was a very minor issue on the side.
- GALM
- Was it mainly summer work?
- CORITA
- Yes, yes.
- GALM
- Was there anyone during that period, then, as a teacher, who you recall
as having influence, or whose work you admired?
- CORITA
- No, not really. I think what influenced me much more were things I would
see at exhibits. And even though we had some professional painters with
names at USC , I don't recall their ever being enough to my taste to
influence me. Sort of went through it to get the degree.
- GALM
- In New York, who were you seeing at that time?
- CORITA
- Well, the people I remember were people like [Robert] Motherwell,
[Adolph] Gottlieb, and that whole abstract expressionist school. I guess
that was at its peak when we began our exhibit-going. I think that I
kind of played back and forth, but I always come back to that kind of
thing. I think I feel very much at home with it, with the loose forms
and the simplicity. Mark Rothko was a great influence, I feel.
- GALM
- What about Ben Shahn?
- CORITA
- And Ben Shahn, yes--I love Ben Shahn.
- GALM
- Did you eventually then meet him?
- CORITA
- Yes. At that time, I had done a print for the International Graphic Arts
Society, which was a group in New York organized to help people collect,
people who wouldn't know how or wouldn't go to museums. They would send
out a catalog, and they would commission artists to do a series for them
and sell them at a lower than ordinary, lower than gallery price. So I
had done one or two commissions for them, and Theodore Gusten, who was
the head of that, was a friend of Ben Shahn ' s . And through him we met
him, had a marvelous afternoon.
1.2. TAPE NUMBER: I, SIDE TWO APRIL 6, 1976
- GALM
- You were talking about your meeting, your wonderful afternoon, with Ben
Shahn.
- CORITA
- Yes, I remember one of the things he said was that — I think it was the
first or second time we'd been to New York, and he said he so envied us,
seeing New York for the first time as adults. He'd grown up there and
knew it all, but he said it would be such a great experience to come on
it fresh, as an adult.
- GALM
- How old were you at about that time — thirty?
- CORITA
- I would have been probably in my thirties, maybe midthirties.
- GALM
- Was there anything to follow in the Los Angeles art scene at that time?
- CORITA
- Not really much, as I remember; or, again, as I say, it wasn't exciting
to us because we would see things in the art magazines and they wouldn't
be here, so we would have to find them in New York. But I'm not sure. I
think we were having those Friday afternoons, and we of course always
found good shows at the County Museum or the Pasadena Museum or
galleries. We used to spend a lot of afternoons at La Cienega when that
got organized into the gallery district; we'd just go up and down. But
we were really very broad in the sense that our interest in the
so-called fine arts. We'd consider going to the beach and flying kites
an artistic experience, or watching the sun set with some kind of
ceremony. But it didn't matter to us whether it was a shop with foreign
imports of folk things, whether they were--it didn't have to be
paintings.
- GALM
- You mention watching a sunset with ceremony. When did the concept of
ceremony enter your life, or had it always been a part of your life?
- CORITA
- Well, the school had always had a day in May which they called Mary's
Day, and it was a very dismal affair. The students wore their caps and
gowns, and they would each carry a calla lily, and we would have a
ceremony. They'd go up and put the calla lily in a vase in front of the
statue of Our Lady, and I'm sure they must have had Mass and processions
and said the rosary and sung hymns. And it must have been about in '62
or '63 that a new nun had charge of it, Helen Kelley, who is now the
president of the college. This job was sort of handed over to her from
somebody else. And she was probably the last person in the world to have
that — she has great appreciation for ceremony, but this whole thing
didn't fit with her. And I can remember that there was a long line of
girls in the corridor, and they were supposed to go someplace. And I
guess the leader was kind of asleep, and Kelley just grabbed her and
started her in a direction, like you would a line of little kids.
Instead of just thinking how to say it, she thought the easiest thing to
do would be just to get her started and everybody would follow. So I
think it was over a meal that I teased her and said how hilarious I
thought it was, and she said, "How would you like the art department to
take over Mary's Day?" [laughter] I said, "Sure." So in 1964 was the
first big one we did, then. And I started out just brainstorming with
the students. I asked if they had a day that they could do anything they
wanted with some kind of ceremony, what would be good things to do? You
know how kids can come up with marvelous ideas. So we just took them all
in and discussed them and tried to find ones that were possible, and we
put together some great days. And those have been all documented by
film-- or most of them. We have some beautiful films on them, made by
Baylis Glascock. But before that time, we had been interested in a lot
of objects which had been ceremonial objects. So that was always there,
the kind of folk art thing again. And I'd always been fascinated with
the idea that a lot of the Italian professional artists--I may be wrong
historically, but I think in general [I am] right — that some of the
people like da Vinci or Michelangelo were in charge of the city's
festivities and did the costumes and the floats and whatever they had.
So that they were really considered an art.
- GALM
- Was there anything locally at that time that gave you ideas for the
celebration for Mary's Day?
- CORITA
- I remember this psychologist friend who wrote and said he always thought
that I had preceded and initiated the be-ins and the happenings that
came after. Now, I don't know, historically, whether they happened first
or we happened first. But it was about the same time.
- GALM
- But in other words, you weren't, in a sense, copying anything?
- CORITA
- No, it came out of this very sterile ceremony that had gone on for many
years. [laughter] And we came in as good amateurs come in, with the idea
that everything was possible. And then I would turn all my classes over
to that, and they would make things for it, for the rest of the school.
But it took a fantastic amount of organization because you were handling
500 or 600 people who really weren't--we tried to get them in on the
preparation as much as possible by inviting people from different
departments to come and discuss with us, but as far as the actual labor
was concerned, some of them came, but they had their own interests and
didn't have all that time. The art majors were doing it for credit, and
so they had to do it. And then we had adult classes, and they did
wonderful things for it, too.
- GALM
- And this preceded the [Renaissance] Pleasure Faire, too, didn't it?
- CORITA
- Yes, the Renaissance Faire, yes.
- GALM
- Because there seems to be a bit of a similar spirit.
- CORITA
- Um-hmm, yes.
- GALM
- A spring orgy, I guess. [laughter]
- CORITA
- Right, a spring orgy, right, yes. Yes, we always centered it around —
well, I think there were several parts to it. I thought the assembling
was very important. I remember being in New York once, on our way home
from Europe, I think, the day of the Chinese New Year, and somebody got
us a little balcony in a store right over the beginning of it. And it
took them--if you've ever watched them--about a couple of hours to
assemble. They were setting off firecrackers and milling around and
talking and having a great time before the actual procession with the
dragon got started. And I thought, "This is such a marvelous concept,
just the getting together informally with some kind of anticipation of
what was to come." So that was always a very important part. And we
always had some kind of a movement--left over from the procession, I
suppose — from one part of the campus to the other, and then always a
meal, like out on the grass. And then we usually ended up with Mass, or
had Mass in the center, and tried to make it as special as we could
within the confines of the L.A. laws. [laughter]
- GALM
- Were the festivities ever the object of criticism?
- CORITA
- Oh, yes. Every year.
- GALM
- Oh, every year. [laughter]
- CORITA
- Every year, yes.
- GALM
- You could anticipate ....
- CORITA
- In fact, Helen Kelley, who was (and still is) president of the college,
was really a great person because she--well, for many reasons, but also
because she would take the gaff. But we got it from inside, too, because
some of the older nuns just felt bad that we weren't saying the rosary
and weren't doing some of the things that had been a part of it and just
saw to it that it was beautifully done. And we would try always to do
things that wouldn't cause criticism, but — I mean, that was always kind
of in the back of my mind, I'm sure. But of course, anything you would
do would cause criticism because at that point everything we did was
wrong. [laughter] We couldn't win for losing, so we might as well have a
good time doing it.
- GALM
- What form would the criticism take?
- CORITA
- Well, the cardinal's office would call the president's office, and say,
you know, "We hear such and such went on." And then some of the very
conservative alumni members who came were very upset because as
conservatives are, the first little sign of change is a real threat to
them.
- GALM
- So they saw it as perhaps being sacrilegious, or ... ?
- CORITA
- Yes, and different from what it had been in their day, I think, was at
the very base of it: that it wasn't their college anymore.
- GALM
- You'd broken with tradition.
- CORITA
- Yes, yes. And you see, we had a very different notion of tradition.
[laughter]
- GALM
- Well, in a sense, a new tradition was established.
- CORITA
- Well, yes, in that traditions are what you pass on, but in the passing
on, one would hope they grow and not stay the same, because if it stays
the same, it's dead. This had been repeated year after year after year.
We would try to have a theme each year, and in those years especially, I
think there was so much happening that it was usually a social justice
theme underlying it. Like one year we really did a big bang-up thing
with billboards, collecting all the billboards we could find with food;
and the whole thing had to do with being aware of the fact that much of
the world didn't eat. And this worked into the program. So in
preparation for that, the students would collect gobs of quotations. I
remember one time we decided to do a lot with flowers--I think every
class embroidered banners with flowers--I think every class had to do a
flower banner of some find. And in one class, I assigned each person to
do 500 twelve-inch squares that had a bouquet of flowers on them. And
they could do it any way they wanted. I said they could contact
elementary-school teachers and get them to have their whole classes do
one, each do one; and so there were many, many ways. They could do them
in multiple, do a print, do them lots of ways. So then we pasted these
on the sides of cartons that size and used them as huge, big building
blocks, just stacked them up in great piles behind the altar.
- GALM
- Did you get that building block idea from Charles Eames?
- CORITA
- We did indeed, yes. We went out to his house one time on a field trip.
He had had his grandchildren visiting him, and to entertain them, he had
bought them 100 cartons of about twelve inches square and made marvelous
blocks. And then he had a rope hanging from the ceiling with a noose
down toward the floor, and you could put your feet in it and swing, pile
them up, and knock them all down. But when we brought this class, they
all used them to sit on. We were doing boxes for quite a while after
that in different ways.
- GALM
- Does that mean your IBM exhibit would have been a different use.
- CORITA
- Yes, right, exactly.
- GALM
- How did the folk art collection start at Immaculate Heart?
- CORITA
- I don't know. I think we always had the idea that the students should be
surrounded by real art. And we found a way of gathering prints. But we
really had practically no budget at that time. So we started collecting
very simple little things, like Japanese paper things, objects that were
beautifully made and were part of some- body's tradition. And I think I
always felt more kind of in tune — well, I think I always sort of
resented the division between the fine and the folk art, thought that
[the folk arts] were just as fine, and the fine arts just as folk.
- GALM
- Was that shared by both of you?
- CORITA
- Um-hmm.
- GALM
- Was it reinforced then by Charles Eames?
- CORITA
- Oh, yes.
- GALM
- When did he enter the picture?
- CORITA
- Let's see, it must have been quite early on, probably around the early
fifties, or maybe the late forties, because I know I was teaching the
kindergarten, first, second, and third grade in the training school. We
had a training school at that time where the college students did their
practice teaching. They were very small classes; I had these three
classes in one room. I would do that during the daytime, and then from
four to six, I guess, I taught college classes. One of them was interior
design. And I didn't have the ghost of a notion what to do in a class of
interior design. I'd never had one; when I did have one, it didn't
really help. [laughter] So one of the things I thought to do was to take
the students around to see new homes that were built and, if possible,
to try to get the architect to be there to talk about his work. So I
remember having seen Charles's house, which was new at that time —
fairly new; I think it was built in '51 or so. I had seen it in Arts and Architecture , and we had met John
Entenza, who at that time was the editor of Arts and
Architecture . I think I did covers for him, and the students
did covers for that magazine at that time. So I think I might have
called John Entenza and asked him how we could get the students into
that house; and either he suggested it or I thought of it myself, just
calling Charles and asking him if I could bring students out. And he
said, "Sure." Life wasn't so hectic for him in those days. [laughter] We
were really lucky. So we used to do that every year, and sometimes twice
a year. I always taught a class in the summer for people who were going
to teach. That was really one of my joys because I thought it was a
great chance to get into the schools, because those people would all be
ordinary elementary-school teachers. I thought they would do a lot less
harm if they had been through a good course. And really it turned out to
be a class, as so many of the students have always said, a class in how
to teach. Because I would just throw things at them to do that they had
never done before, and they could see how that was possible, rather than
showing you how to do everything.
- GALM
- You mentioned Eames — did you try to get in with [Richard] Neutra and
[Rudolph] Schindler? They would have still been around. Did you make any
effort to ... ?
- CORITA
- Yes, we saw Neutra and went to his house. And Schindler, no. We may have
gone to houses he built, but I don't think that we met him.
- GALM
- So the relationship with Eames was mainly, then, through the class. Did
you have a personal relationship then, too, that continued?
- CORITA
- Well, he was one of our Great Men, and we saw him from time to time. I
think I've only been out there to the house socially about, maybe, three
or four times, but then he doesn't do much of that, anyway; and I've
been to the studio a number of times. Then he was a great help to us in
just sitting around and talking when we were thinking of building a
college at Claremont. He agreed to be in on the thinking part of it for
us. So by that time he had a great affection, I think, for what the art
department — because that's how he got to know the college--had done and
was very enthusiastic about it.
- GALM
- Did his wife always sit in on these meetings, or did he operate
individually?
- CORITA
- Let's see, no. When he came — he used to come by himself, and then when
we would go to the studio or the home, Ray would always be there.
- GALM
- Okay. Why don't we go back to your work, then, how it developed from
this first one in the corner onward. [laughter]
- CORITA
- Well, as I say, I think the success at the exhibitions gave it quite an
impetus, that I may never have done anything if it hadn't been for that.
You know, I may have just taught also and not done work on my own. But
after that, I used to make a series of prints each year. The only time
for it really was between summer school and the beginning of fall
school. So in the beginning, it was a couple of weeks, and I would make
one or two prints. And always, two or three of the nuns would come, drop
in and help, and that got to be a great growing tradition. Then the
students sometimes began to ask if they could come; some of the adult
students came. I had one man, Hobart Burnett, who came every year; he
was really the great solid one who was always there, first thing in the
morning, to take down the prints that had dried. And then we got this
little space across the street where the students had their serigraphy
class, and in the summer, I just took the whole room over. And I would
have up to maybe eight or ten people working, helping me. A marvelous
woman, who came out from New York, Eleanor Carpenter, who was a
grandmother, had lived on a farm and was working toward her degree and
after that taught for about ten years in New York — she would stay after
summer school for those two or three weeks and clean my screens and mix
paint. So it was that group of people, really, who made the quantity
possible, because I never would have done all that work all by myself.
- GALM
- How did you handle the first products of your work? Did you try to find
a gallery?
- CORITA
- No. Sister Magdalen Mary, especially in the beginning, was much more
what you might call a manager. One of the adults offered her services,
and she would mat things, my things and the students' things, to send to
exhibits. And then we got requests for shows or sent out feelers for
shows. And a lot of that sending out and making contact was done by
Sister Magdalen Mary. I don't think I was terribly excited about doing
it. I was really much more at that time concerned with the teaching, and
this was very much a side thing always. And then, I think in the last
year I was at the college, I had done a design--I was meanwhile doing a
lot of freelance work on the side, designs for covers for people,
magazines and inside illustrations, one thing and another. invitations —
and I did a design for the annual report of a hospital up north. And
they had it printed by silk-screen. It was such a beautiful job that I
asked them who did it, and I got in touch with this Harry Hambly in
Santa Clara. That year, I prepared the separations and sent half of my
prints up to him to see how that would work out. And then from then on,
he's done all my printing. It's just been a marvelous relationship,
because we've always been far away-- now I'm even farther, in
Boston--and he has always been just directly attuned to what I mean when
I say something. So I can send him--I usually do my work about three
inches square, sometimes--and say, "Enlarge this to such and such a
size, and do this in this color, and this is this color." And he always
either understands or knows enough to ask questions. So that actually
now it's come down to my doing the design for them--he does the
printing. I have a batch coming at the end of the month, and I'll have a
show.
- GALM
- Where will the show be, here or in Boston?
- CORITA
- At the gallery.
- GALM
- At the gallery. At that point, did you already know that you might be
leaving your working situation?
- CORITA
- No, no.
- GALM
- So it was just a blessing in disguise.
- CORITA
- Right, yes, yes. It came as a kind of inspiration, you know, that
somebody could do this, could help, you know, because among all my
helpers, I think I only had one, one man, who came who could really pull
a squeegee across the screen and do a perfect print every time. And I
was the other one. But no matter what size or shape these people were,
they just didn't have the elbow grease that I had or the strength in
their arms to really--so they could never do the printing part. They did
the cleaning up and the hanging and all that. There's a lot of muscle
work to the whole process.
- GALM
- Early on, you decided that this was going to be your medium.
- CORITA
- I don't think I decided. I think I just made prints, and the next year,
I decided to make prints again.
- GALM
- So it just happened to happen year after year.
- CORITA
- Yes, uh-huh. And it got to be sort of expected, in a way, that I would
make a new batch. The galleries would expect a new batch.
- GALM
- When did you find time to collect the quotations and slogans and so
forth that became a part of them?
- CORITA
- Well, of course, in those days, I was surrounded by very literate
people. That community had some of the best women you could ever meet,
and these were all people in different fields. So sometimes people would
point things out to me or send things to me. And I was--and I still am--
a great flipper, you know, rather than a reader: flip through a book and
come across good things. And then sometimes you just found--like I think
IBM put out a little magazine that I got for a time that would have a
page of quotations, and sometimes you'd find one good one there. So I
think that people who think that I'm an avid reader — I don't read quite
as much as it would seem. I've seen the quotation someplace.
- GALM
- So you haven't read all of Rilke.
- CORITA
- Right, right. Almost. Almost. But that was after I used him, for the
most part.
- GALM
- So the first ones did contain some figures. How long did that keep up?
- CORITA
- Well, I think I was very much--not disillusioned, but I was not very
pleased with what was happening in figurative art. I think figurative
art had a hard time and still is having a hard time, except for a few
people like Milton Avery and maybe Ben Shahn, people like that. So I
think I went back to medieval things--and of course that [print] is very
medieval--and worked from those sources because, in fact, I did my
thesis on some medieval sculpture, It's a very miserable piece of
scholarship, but the sculpture was good. But then, as I started getting
into my own, as I say, being very much influenced by abstract
expressionism, I found it much more my thing to be nonfigurative . And
now I feel that in a sense the prints have kind of a mixed audience. I
think a lot of people like them for what they say, and I always thought
this was a nice thing because the people would then be attracted to the
form and gradually get used to looking, whereas they might not if it
were a picture without words. I've done lots of pictures without words.
But I think it's helpful when they have words.
- GALM
- You also stretch their imagination as far as the words themselves are
concerned, as far as seeing them and not seeing all of the word.
- CORITA
- I think so, yes. Right.
- GALM
- And reverse image and . . .
- CORITA
- Right.
- GALM
- . . . other things. And that wasn't present much in the early work, was
it?
- CORITA
- No, no. I remember once that I was taking photographs of some of the
.... For one of these Mary's days, we decided to cover every door of the
administration building with one big poster that was the size of a door.
So every student made about five. I was taking photographs of them one
time and taking sections of some because they were very beautiful. One
of them was curved, as I was taking the slide, and I thought, "Oh, that
would be a nifty idea." So that year, I think almost in all of my
prints, I took pictures from magazines and combined them the way I
wanted, and then I would curl the paper to go the way I wanted it to and
shoot the photograph, the slide, and then enlarge that and cut the
stencil from that. So that's where all the curly ones came from.
- GALM
- Did what was happening in "liturgical art" (quote- unquote) at the time
have any influence on you?
- CORITA
- Yes, I think that in the early days, especially, I was trying to make
"religious art" (quote-unquote) that would be not quite as repulsive as
what was around. And then pretty soon I realized that anything that was
any good had a religious quality, so that it didn't matter whether it
had that kind of subject.
- GALM
- Was there anyone doing religious art at that time who you could respect?
- CORITA
- I think at that time mostly what was being done was a kind of
resurrection of the Byzantine and the Gothic, the strong things, and
strong periods from the past. But I always laughed because I think
my--well, I know my biggest rejection was from a liturgical art magazine
we had. I can't think of the man's name, who is now dead. Maurice
Lavanoux. I had agreed to make a serigraph that fit in the magazine as a
double-page spread so that each person who subscribed to the magazine
would get an original serigraph. And I did 2,100 prints. This was when I
was printing by myself. [laughter] I did it in two colors, I think. So
that was the longest job I ever did. And we sent them off to him and
didn't hear from him. So after a long time, I wrote and said, "Did they
get there?" And he wrote back, and he said he thought that it was a
little too much ahead for his readers. So I said, "Send them back." So
for years afterwards we were selling them, and finally, unbelievably,
they became rare.
- GALM
- Do you recall what the design was?
- CORITA
- Yes. It was a figure of Christ and a figure of Our Lady, with words.
[Christ and Mary ]
- GALM
- What do you think really put him off about it?
- CORITA
- Well, I think that he probably had to play a safe line to keep
subscribers, and even though they did sort of out of the way things for
that time, I guess he must .... I didn't think it was; I mean, it seemed
very tame to me. But apparently he didn't feel that his readers would
think so. We did this as a gift for him, which was amazing. [laughter]
- GALM
- When you did start receiving some recognition, were you ever courted by
the same people, as far as commissions or anything like that is
concerned?
- CORITA
- Well, yes, I think eventually. I suppose the top thing in that regard
would be the mural I did for the Vatican Pavilion [at the 1964 New York
World's Fair]. But of course the person in charge of that section of the
Vatican Pavilion was Norman Laliberte, who happened to be a friend and
thought what we were doing was great. So it wasn't exactly that the
officials in the church chose, or anybody official. That kind of
recognition just didn't ever come.
- GALM
- Is any of your work in churches or convents, other than . . . ?
- CORITA
- Oh, some in convents. And let's see — I did one chapel, which we did the
complete design of, in Palm Springs, which has since been sort of taken
apart by different people who came along and thought otherwise.
[laughter]
- GALM
- It's been dismantled?
- CORITA
- It's been dismantled. And I think I did a series of the stations of the
cross for one chapel, which were then taken down the next year, sold to
another chapel, which .... [laughter] Those were hard years because I
think even the general public was still very much adverse to the notion
of what they called modern art, you know, anything that was different
from the bad copies of the great masters or the great masters
themselves. So we were just part of the crowd.
- GALM
- It seems, though, that there would be more of an acceptance in the late
sixties and ....
- CORITA
- Well, of course, within the community, it was always mixed. And I always
laugh because in my own family, it was divided exactly in half, you
know. [laughter] Let's see, well, it couldn't be divided exactly in
half. I had my sister [Mary], whose home we are in, and my brother
[Mark] who was a priest, and they were always very much in sympathy with
what I was doing. But the rest of the family thought I was out of my
mind. [laughter] But they've mellowed over the years.
- GALM
- What is it that — it was just too far out for them?
- CORITA
- Yes. Well, two of my brothers have died during this last year, and those
two brothers and then my sister, who is a religious--Sister Ruth--were
very conservative people. In fact, you might say that one brother
[Richard] and sister were extremely conservative, in many, many ways.
And then the other half of the family, my sister and myself and my
brother who was a priest (who is no longer a priest) were much more sort
of into what was changing. And my mother — I used to bring her the batch
of prints every year when I finished them, to show her, and I remember
the last time I brought them to her. I think she always half-loved them
because her daughter had done them, so she was much kindlier toward them
than the conservative part of the family. But she looked at them, and
she said, "Don't you think you've gone a little too far this time?"
[laughter] It's just marvelous. And then I said, "Well, which are your
favorites?" And so she chose two. And one was kind of a logical choice:
it was a beautiful heart with a crown of thorns, and then the [Juan]
Jimenez "Heart of the City" written over it. [The
Heart of the City print is actually based on a poem by Miguel
de Unamuno; Jimenez's poems appear in other prints, however, such as Yellow Spring . --Ed. ] But the other was what I
called Wonderbread , for which I really got the
idea from the Wonderbread loaf of bread. There were just twelve circular
images, different colors. And that was one of her favorites, which I
thought was quite far out, as they say, for her, who thought I had gone
a little far that year.
- GALM
- How much did your students influence your work?
- CORITA
- I think there was a great exchange between us. First of all, we saw the
same things, because we usually went to exhibits together. And then I
think there was a great interchange as far as the class work was
concerned, as to assignments I would give them and ways they would
interpret those assignments. I think we probably, from working so close
together, had a very similar way of looking at things and probably
similar tastes. I'm sure they were-- well, I think it was really a
mutual kind of influence, that oftentimes I would be stimulated by
something, as in the case of that banner, which was quite accidental: I
had been looking at a student's work while I got that idea, but it was
really the photography that led me into it.
- GALM
- Had you been doing photography all along, too?
- CORITA
- Yes. I used to take thousands of slides, and most of our lectures--I
guess all of our lectures--we illustrated them with slides. And then I
used to take slides for Paul Laporte, for his classes.
- GALM
- What were some of the assignments that you gave your students?
- CORITA
- Well, I always had, or developed later, I guess, this quantity business,
with the notion that if they had to do a lot of things, they would just
dig in, figuring that it was just hopeless, so they might as well just
get them done. Whereas I think sometimes if you're faced by having to do
a single thing, you have great expectations of your- self that it's got
to be great, and you worry over it. The other way, you sort of get a lot
of experience without — and you get quality through the experience,
through doing it over and over again. For example, I would have them
take a piece of cardboard with a hole in the center, a square in the
center for a finder, and just go over pages of magazines, and when they
found something they liked, a section of a picture, draw a line around
it and cut it out. Well, I would have them do 500 of those at a time,
and some of them got to be very smart. They would just take a magazine
and the paper cutter and cut, and then go back and sift through and take
out the ones they liked. [laughter] So it developed this marvelous kind
of inventiveness to get the thing done. They would think of unbelievable
ways of-- and I always said, if you can get somebody to do it for you or
with you or to help you, fine. And in that way it involved other
students.
- GALM
- So it was still problem solving.
- CORITA
- Yes, right. Exactly. Which is what I think it ought — it's what it all
was. And I think I always tried to do things that would — see, I think
there's a creative aspect to art, and an analytical .... [telephone
rings]
- GALM
- Do you want to take that, or ... ?
- CORITA
- No, is that going to bother your . . . ? The creative is when you're
putting things together, and the analytical part is when you're taking
things apart and criticizing and observing — whereas the other part,
you're in it. This was in the days before mass meditation groups, but I
think that I was always aware of that difference in consciousness, of
when you were criticizing something and when you were making something,
and that you couldn't do the two things at the same time, and that often
people tried to--especially , you know, nonprofessionals. So especially
in the night classes, where we had a lot of people who had never taken
art, just had always wanted to, and real folk artists, and some of them
marvelous — so I would try to do things. I would try to give them a list
of things to do, and their mind would get so busy trying to fulfill
those that the thing they actually did would be done freely because they
wouldn't be so worried about the final result. They thought all these
other things were important. Like to use maybe three colors and have it
a particular size and a lot of little requirements that they could
legitimately busy that part of themselves with [phone rings] while their
creativity part could come out more easily.
- GALM
- Where were you getting those ideas for teaching, or were they your own?
- CORITA
- Well, I think that "necessity is the mother of invention" sort of thing,
that I would just — I think I always had a horror of boring classes from
having had so many boring classes myself. And so I would try to do
things that would be stimulating and exciting, and so I would . . . When
it stops I'll take it [the phone] off. So I spent a lot of time in
preparation for classes, [gathering] materials that were not necessarily
art magazines or art books, but just .... I think I'm naturally
intuitive, and ideas just come.
- GALM
- Were you able to use some of the same ideas you used for your elementary
school teaching that you did later on?
- CORITA
- Toward the end. But I think by the time I got into really knowing how to
teach, I was teaching older people, college students, and adults. I
often regretted the way I had taught, though I think I was a fun teacher
in a way with the young kids because I enjoyed them so much. But I would
have--I think I would have been much more challenging to them if I had
known then what I knew later. And that's why I think I liked that class
that was a requisite for people who were going to teach, because it was
a chance to kind of undo what I had done. [laughter]
- GALM
- Make up for ....
- CORITA
- Yes. And could see the possibilities of what they could do.
- GALM
- What form did that class take, as far as handling the students?
- CORITA
- Well, I would give them many of the same problems I would give to the
art students, and we would go on field trips, and I would try to make it
as much as possible a problem class. I thought they really should be
learning something about art, as far as tastes and recognition and so
forth, because it seemed to me that as much as I could give them, they
would have to have that kind of appreciation to be able to intelligently
get their students to do things. And I must say that we had marvelous
equipment, like films. We had, in those days, all the Eames films; and
those are, if you've seen them, I'm sure .... In fact, one of the
assignments I gave them was when Charles first gave us the India film on
the exhibit that Alexander Girard did at the Museum of Modern Art. [Textiles and Ornamental Arts of India] I showed
them the film, and then afterwards I said, "Now, go home and come back
tomorrow with 200 questions about the film." [laughter] And it was
marvelous because any of these things are .... I would have them look at
things for--like, we would sit around in a circle and each have a Coke
bottle and look at it for say an hour, or maybe ten minutes sometimes,
depending. And we did a lot of looking exercises. And you find that
these things are very difficult to do. The first ten or twenty questions
are painful. But after that you get very slaphappy, and you start
opening up and expanding. A lot of the questions were worthless, but out
of that whole batch, you would get some marvelous things; and, again,
the whole process, I think, was a good stretching exercise. And some of
them--I mean, some of them came back with 50 questions, and maybe two
people out of the class did 200. But even that was fun.
- GALM
- They're the ones that couldn't stay awake for the class. [laughter]
- CORITA
- Right, right.
- GALM
- What did you do about grading them, the students?
- CORITA
- Well, in the last few years, that was the last assignment, to grade
themselves and to justify the grade. And they were really pretty good. I
very seldom had to change them. Ordinarily if they were too low, they
would be wrong, or seem not right to me. And I used to tell them that I
thought the important things were to be in class every day--not because
I thought I was so great that they needed to hear me, but I think the
things that happened when we were all together, the discussions and what
have you, were the way they really grew, and that they couldn't learn,
they couldn't catch up if they weren't there. I'd be furious if they
weren't there on the day that I gave an assignment, or on the first day
of class, which was really a big bang-up sort of orientation. I said,
"If you've missed the first class, you don't know what's happening in
the rest of the class, because that's the only day I really teach."
- GALM
- Was the adult class already going when you . . . ?
- CORITA
- Um-hmm, um-hmm, yes. But in those days, there would be about six people
in the class. And in the adult classes. And then there got to be about
fifty or sixty in the class.
- GALM
- And there was just a one-session class.
- CORITA
- Yes, once a week, um-hmm. And at night. And Saturday mornings we had
adult classes, too. Those were mostly teachers, people working for their
degrees. But I remember once we did a--what is it?--the NAEA. The
National Art Education Association had its meeting in Los Angeles, and
we were asked if we would like to do the commercial exhibits. All the
people who had commercial products that they wanted to sell to schools
set up their exhibits. And you've probably been to some of those
exhibits --tables with green felt and all that — they're really ghastly.
So we took it on, and I think it was at the Statler [Hotel] downtown
when it was in its first year. And we took over some huge room, and I
assigned each student in my classes to....
1.3. TAPE NUMBER: II, SIDE ONE APRIL 6, 1976 and APRIL 13, 1976
- GALM
- You were talking about an exhibit that your students did at the Statler
for the National Education ....
- CORITA
- National Art Education Association. Each student was responsible for
getting in touch with the manufacturer or distributor--the salesman, I
guess--of a particular company — like, say, the American Crayon Company
— getting materials from them and getting enough things made out of
those materials that we could cover .... We got these metal sections
that you make bookcases out of, and every- body used those. We got a
whole batch of them, and they had to all paint them white. That was the
only kind of regulation thing. And they could set them up in any way
they wanted. Their job was to sell the product that they were in charge
of. We had two companies who came in and changed their exhibit back to
the old thing, but that was out of about, oh, eighty some companies that
we were working for. And that was a fantastic experience that we
probably never would have gotten into if we had realized how much work
it was going to be.
- GALM
- I'm sure that must have happened more than once, [laughter]
- CORITA
- Yes, exactly. One of the things Charles said that always stuck with me,
he said that they always tried to maintain their amateur status, because
an amateur was a person who was always willing to do something because
he didn't know it couldn't be done. [laughter] And he would do it.
- GALM
- Does this then predate the — I know you did an exhibition ....
- CORITA
- This was in 1957.
- GALM
- I know you did an exhibition of banners at the . . .
- CORITA
- . . . National Gallery [in Washington, D.C.].
- GALM
- Was it at the National Gallery?
- CORITA
- Um-hmm, yes. We had done the banners. In fact, we had done the banners
before the celebration days began, because I think I had gotten the idea
from looking at a picture. I thought it would be a super project. And
everybody thought they were outrageous. So we decided that we would go
down to Watts, to the [Watts] Towers--you' re familiar with them. And in
those days, nobody knew where they were, even in Watts. We'd ask
somebody on the next corner, and they wouldn't know. We had a kind of
little procession around in and out of the towers, mostly to take
pictures, just to see how they looked, objectively. And they were
reproduced in Arts and Architecture , some of the
photographs. And Fritz Gutheim, who was, and I think still is,
professionally doing exhibits for big occasions, was in charge of the
AIA [American Institute of Architects] centennial, which was to be in
the National Gallery and was to consist of photographs. And he thought
the exhibit would be pretty dull and that the banners hung with them
would make it more lively. So that was one of the early-on things that
got the people in the community impressed. We always thought it was
great fun if we could impress the people in the community, because they
took us as a little offbeat, as I say. We had our supporters, but most
of the people thought we were a little bit odd.
- GALM
- When you say, "the community," do you mean . . . ?
- CORITA
- The sisters, the nuns.
- GALM
- The religious community.
- CORITA
- Yes. And this surprised us no end, because they were so impressed.
Everybody was so impressed that we had something in the National
Gallery. It's just marvelous how people make their judgments.
- GALM
- But was that the only time you hung banners, did a banner exhibit?
- CORITA
- Oh, no. We had a marvelous banner exhibit at the County Museum.
- GALM
- At Exhibition Park.
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- Now, were those banners left over then from Mary's Day, or were those
different banners?
- CORITA
- Well, for a number of years, at least one class a year I would have make
banners. We were always rather brutal in those days because we said that
anything the students did really belonged to the college if the college
wanted it. We collected all the banners, so we had a great accumulation
because the people were doing them for several years, so that on the big
days, we would have enough for most of the people to carry. But that
exhibition was great fun. [Jim] Elliott was the one who got us to do it,
asked for it. It was in the rotunda. And I had this idea --we had made
small banners, silk-screen rectangles about, oh, maybe, sixteen inches
square, and I had the idea of their hanging horizontally in space, way
above--you know how high that room is. And then I think the other
banners were hung from the four corners, where there must have been
something to attach them to. So we got four poles established on the
floor, and strung these banners, probably about, oh, maybe sixty or
seventy of these sixteen-inch squares. From the corner of each one to
the four poles went a string. So there was this whole maze of banners
that were beautifully spaced. And then the problem was to get the whole
thing up into the air, which we did by taking one pole up and fastening
it to a light, a chandelier, while everybody else held the other parts
as they went up. It was beautiful. But again it was kind of an
impossible thing. And that was happening during summer school: summer
school meant something like a three-hour class in the morning and a
three-hour class in the afternoon, and after the last class, we would
get a gang and go down there and work on it. So we were crazy in a way,
like I guess all enthusiastic people are.
- GALM
- Here again, your making of banners — do you think that had an influence
on a popularity for banners among other groups?
- CORITA
- I think it could have. These days got to be very well known, and toward
the end, there were probably about half students and half outsiders,
because people just heard about them, and they wanted to bring their
kids to them; they just wanted to come and be a part of it.
- GALM
- Because I know banners always had been, of course, a part of religious
celebration or any celebration.
- CORITA
- Any celebration, right.
- GALM
- But there was a period there in the sixties in which they became more of
a liturgical expression, too.
- CORITA
- Well, yes. I think the banners really did have a great — well, I would
say they had a wide influence, not a great influence. I picked up a
little Hallmark [Cards, Inc.] book the other day--in fact, somebody sent
it to me because they were laughing over it--and as you turn page after
page, it looked like stuff that had been thrown away in the art
department. It was a very bad copy of almost everything we had ever
thought of doing. And I think with the banners, the same thing has
happened. People have started making banners, but they're dead. They
have a kind of nonenthusiasm to them.
- GALM
- Why don't we stop for today and then we'll resume?
- CORITA
- Okay, fine.
APRIL 13, 1976
- GALM
- Before we continue with the interview, I would like to clarify
something. We talked last time about two banner shows, one at the
National Gallery and one at our Los Angeles County Museum of Art (and at
that time, I think it was in Exposition Park) . Was this one and the
same show?
- CORITA
- There may have been banners that were repeated in both shows, because as
I think I said, we collected them from the students, and they thought
of--I think they were forewarned that they were doing this for the
cause, so to speak, and that other people could use them. So that some
of them may--no, I take it back, because it's coming to me now that we
did those banners especially for that Washington show. I gave the
students the theme of "House or Home," and they were to do some
research. I think at that point we did mostly biblical research and just
found great quotations about the home or the house or the building,
anything to do with that area that we'd hopefully somehow tie in with
the American Institute of Architects show, which they were helping. And
then probably some of those banners, or all of them, were used in the
Los Angeles County Museum show.
- GALM
- Was the curator at the museum actually just bringing that show from the
National Gallery?
- CORITA
- No, this was a banner show we did for the County Museum, and had no
relation to the architects' show.
- GALM
- Because it occurred in the same year. [1958]
- CORITA
- Well, it could have been. See, my memory is not terribly efficient. It
could have been; it was certainly differently arranged because we had
the arrangement of it here in Los Angeles. I remember in the National
Gallery they were hung in a very static manner, and I was very shocked
when I saw them because they were almost hung as other pictures, and
banners are meant to hang freely.
- GALM
- In other words, you produced the banners for the Washington show. You
didn't install them.
- CORITA
- That's right, that's right.
- GALM
- You installed them very definitely at the County Museum.
- CORITA
- Yes, yes. And we had the great help of Jim Elliott, who was one of the
curators there.
- GALM
- So that was in '58, I believe. What other student exhibits--was the next
large one, then, for the IBM people?
- CORITA
- We sent out a lot of student shows for the art department, which
included paintings, ceramics, some ceramic sculpture, prints, and so
forth. And then I think I mentioned the NAEA exhibit we did. And we did
....
- GALM
- "Survival with Style" — that came later.
- CORITA
- Yes. "Survival with Style" we did originally for the college, and that
travelled. The only other time I saw it aside from our own use of it was
when Boston University had a retrospective of my work, and they included
that as part of the teaching work. The last summer I was at the college,
in 1968, I did an exhibit with the students for the World Council of
Churches when they met in Uppsala [Sweden]. And that consisted of about,
oh, sixty to seventy structures, which were made of two pieces of
cardboard eight feet square that intersected and stood like you'd stand
two cards, slit one and slide the other one into it, so they were at
right angles and supported themselves. It was John Taylor, who is the
head of film and communication for the World Council, who got us to do
that. And I was to go, but I was on my way [out] ; so I chose a very
remarkable student we had [Donna Villicich] , and she went with the
exhibit and talked to the people and to the press and so forth about it,
over there. And they had made a film, which I have seen, in which Pete
Seeger is singing and the young people are dancing around in and out of
the exhibit. And they opened some great castle in Uppsala that was used
as a kind of museum but had never had an exhibit in it, and they filled
this huge hall with the structures. And again, I only saw photographs of
that exhibit, but they really did a marvelous job of setting it up.
- GALM
- Pete Seeger was there in person?
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- Did that show then go on to Geneva, or was that still yet another show
for the World Council?
- CORITA
- I had a show at the World Council building itself.
- GALM
- I see, in 1970.
- CORITA
- I guess, yes. Was it in 1970?
- GALM
- That's what it says.
- CORITA
- Yes, yes, it was.
- GALM
- Were parts of that . . . ?
- CORITA
- They used their big main entry place, which is an exhibit space, for
that, hanging some of them from the ceiling; and it's like a great —
more than two stories, two extra stories high. And that was a beautiful
exhibit.
- GALM
- Did you go for that one or not?
- CORITA
- No. My sister and brother-in-law were in Europe at the time, and they
were there in time to see it. But for that, the Franciscans, the people
who do the "Hour of St. Francis" and those commercials that you may have
seen, lent us their television studio to do those in. They weren't doing
anything at the moment in the studio, so we had it for about — it must
have been a month and a half. Both the day students, again, and the
night students worked on that; so they just could come in and out and
down there and leave their stuff out. So you can imagine, there were —
let's see, I think each person had to do four complete structures. And
it was again probably bigger than I would have done, if I had known
ahead of time how much work it was going to be. Some of the students
fell by the wayside, and others profited by it immensely. So again it
was a kind of mixed blessing.
- GALM
- When you say "wayside," they actually dropped out, or they just . . . ?
- CORITA
- Right, um-hmm, or finished some and not others.
- GALM
- Would you assign a general theme?
- CORITA
- Well, that was in the sixties, and there was a great deal of social
consciousness among students at that time anyway, so it wasn't
difficult. And it seemed that it largely centered around poverty and
justice, injustice and justice--however you want to put it. But again,
the students found dozens of quotations and did them in connection with
visual things.
- GALM
- You mentioned students' social consciousness.
- CORITA
- Well, I probably urged them. [laughter]
- GALM
- When was your social consciousness awakened? I'm sure it was always
there, but in the direction of your art?
- CORITA
- I suppose people like Dan [Berrigan] had a lot to do with it because I
remember he was the first one I ever heard of speaking about the Vietnam
War. And this was way back in the early days. I had hardly caught up
with him in relation to the black problem and poverty, and suddenly he
was saying, before I had heard anybody else — or I'm sure before I had
thought of it myself — that it was wrong for us to be at war. And I
thought, "How can he say that?" [laughter] So I think that meeting
people like him, and then people I think particularly of Mary Jean Pew,
who was in the community and is now still teaching at the college, in
political science. She was in charge of the sodality which was in charge
of this Mary's Day, which the art department took over the visual aspect
of it; so we worked together. And I think living with people who were
also socially conscious helped a lot. I'm sure if I had been a nice
proper housewife, I would not have bumped into all of these ideas. And
of course once they get into you, you start noticing and expanding, too.
- GALM
- Did the war seem to stimulate the consciousness more than, say, the
civil rights movement had?
- CORITA
- No, I don't think so. I think they were both very real issues to us.
Perhaps more in the community than among the students: I think it really
originated in the community and then, through the teachers, filtered
into the students.
- GALM
- Were any members of the community going to the South in those years and
marching?
- CORITA
- Yes, I think somebody went to Selma, yes.
- GALM
- Off the tape, I was asking when you first met Dan Berrigan, and you said
that the first real meaningful contact had been during a summer at
Montecito. Could you describe that?
- CORITA
- Well, it was extremely informal. We would celebrate the Eucharist every
day. And Dan is so magic with words that they just pour out of him in
glorious form. So those were always very special events in which he
would tell a story or would usually have maybe a kind of sermon. And
then we would just meet to talk a couple of times a day. And again it
was largely informal, though I'm sure Dan did most of the talking,
because he was so good at it. But in a sense he doesn't ever take over,
so that what he says is probably not more in quantity but more in
quality; and I remember it as being the most talking. He says so many
things by not saying them and by understatement, which is, of course,
the poet in him. He's going to teach a course this summer at the
college.
- GALM
- What is the course?
- CORITA
- It's called tentatively "From Poetry to Politics."
- GALM
- [laughter] And back again to poetry.
- CORITA
- Back again to poetry, yes, indeed. Because he's gotten very rauch--well,
he did a book [The Raft Is Not the Shore] with
[Thich Nhat] Hanh, the head of the Buddhist community in Paris. He was a
very good friend of Thomas Merton's, and he started the Thomas Merton
Center in New York, which was a place of contemplation, really. So I
think part of him has always moved in the direction of contemplation,
without disturbing his activities.
- GALM
- In looking through your prints, I don't see too much Thomas Merton. Have
you used . . . ?
- CORITA
- No, I don't think so. I think I read Thomas Merton — when everybody was
reading Seven Story Mountain, I read it. But for
me — I'm sure I would feel differently if I knew him, but I've heard a
tape of his recently, and it really just turned me off. I think his
ideas are marvelous, but I think the way in which he states the ideas
are still enveloped in a kind of church language, which is ... . That's
unfair, because it's probably more of a classic church language than we
are used to hearing. But I always think of it as coming largely from
working with the adult classes, who were mostly--certainly most of them
were not Catholics, and many of them were Jews .... Most of them, I
think, were Jews. I think we would not have the arts without them. But I
think in working with those people, I was always very conscious of
trying not to talk in a way that would sound proselytizing to them. And
we had some rather delicate things because they often worked on these
exhibits and projects that we were doing, group projects. So that the
themes were really broad enough, certainly, not to be called Catholic
themes--but I wanted that to be understood. Of course, these people had
come to take an art course, not to take a political science course or a
social awareness course. But by that time, I didn't know how to separate
the two. So they got involved, and so on. I think in working to keep it
being an art course and an idea course that I got accustomed to choose
statements that would be understandable by everybody, rather than by
just the Catholic community or a church-affiliated community.
- GALM
- You said that you learned to separate the two. How did you . . . ?
- CORITA
- No, I learned that I couldn't separate the two.
- GALM
- Oh, that you couldn't separate the two. I see. Because I was curious how
you could. [laughter]
- CORITA
- No, I couldn't.
- GALM
- In describing Dan Berrigan, you had mentioned that he was a pixie. Why
"pixie"?
- CORITA
- Well, when he speaks he has a kind of a--he is small and slight, and he
has a kind of twinkling Irish way, and he never comes down on anything
heavily. His brother [Philip] is much heavier. But Dan always says
things with such indirection and such humor that you're taken a little
off guard. He's always asking the probing question, but he's asking it
in a kind of surprising way, rather than coming down on you hard. He has
the light touch.
- GALM
- Did you ever feel the need to be out in the front lines with him?
- CORITA
- No, in fact I think I really had no guts at all, until it finally
occurred to me that I really had my own place. But certainly Dan never
felt this. He felt that what I was doing was — and Phil also, which
surprised me, felt that I was doing great things for whatever movement
was going on, in my own way. So then I figured I was more comfortable
with that and could do that. I couldn't march and be in the public that
way. I had to bring it into the work and into the students' work, make
it available that way. And I thought--again, the idea that using words
with visual forms and using just short passages is often a way to help
awaken people to something they may not be aware of, rather than
enclosing it in a book or making a speech about it.
- GALM
- Let's shift back over to the IBM exhibit [1963]. How did you get that
invitation, or did it just come in the mail?
- CORITA
- No, it came by phone call. [laughter] I often remember, because that
exhibit got to be pretty hard. It was at the time when the students were
just beginning to be restive about being given assignments; they wanted
to go off and do things on their own. And that increased after that
until — I think that's where we had so much difficulty with the exhibit
for Uppsala, because that was again a group project, and some of the
students were just finding their own individuality and didn't want to be
involved in a great big group project that was really under my name.
This really disturbed some of them, and it disturbed me, too. But there
wasn't anything I could do about it because that was where the publicity
was; so we just had to take that. But the IBM exhibit was a good
experience for me, because I--I think I was always very good at getting
other people to work. I worked very hard myself, but I was also very
good in sharing responsibility, even though I had to have the final
responsibility, because I was the one who had accepted to do the thing.
So for the IBM exhibit, I chose two seniors (Michaela Myers and Paula
McGowan) to be in charge, one in charge of one half, and the other in
charge of the other half. They were really in charge of seeing that the
students were doing what they were supposed to do; and they kept track
of the supplies, which is a monumental task with that kind of exhibit.
They took all that off my hands. It was very good experience for them.
And then IBM flew them to New York to put the exhibit up. And then I
think I was in Washington--we were on one of our tours, and I guess I'd
gone to Georgetown to speak, so I was in Georgetown--and I got a phone
call during my own exhibit from one of the student leaders who was
setting up the exhibit, saying they were having a terrible time. I don't
know if you've heard the history of this, of the exhibit. CALM: I've
heard a little bit about it, the reaction to it.
- CORITA
- It was at Christmastime, and we did it with boxes. We had one whole
section, which was probably the size of that wall, composed of boxes,
which when they all fit together said, "Peace on Earth, Good Will to
Men." And when that got up, people started coming in off the streets. It
was a very — what shall I say? — explosive time. Anyway, I guess people
looking at IBM didn't know what to make of this, and they thought it was
kind of a hippie thing. So they came in and questioned the IBM people,
and so they got them to — what did they ask them to do? Oh, to put the
scriptural source underneath it. [laughter]
- GALM
- Give it validity.
- CORITA
- Made it okay, you see. Put a different tone on it. And then there was
something else very humorous. I can't remember [it exactly] , but it was
a statement from Pope John which a number of people came in and reacted
to very violently, and we had to take that out. So the students were
there making these decisions, you see, because I was in transit. So they
called to tell me what they had done. So there wasn't much we could do
about that. I said, "Just do whatever you think is best on the spot."
But it really created a great — I suppose not a very great percentage of
New Yorkers complained, but enough to make a little trouble there.
- GALM
- Why did IBM choose Immaculate Heart to do it?
- CORITA
- I wish I could think of the man who was in charge of their design
department who had known of our work and just knew we would put on a
good show. [Robert Monahan]
- GALM
- And just didn't see that a peace theme could be a radical . . .
- CORITA
- . . . could be dangerous. No, in fact, he came out during the
preparation of the exhibit and looked at most of the material that we
had and just thought it was marvelous. I guess they had never done
anything quite like this and didn't know what the man in the street was
going to make of it.
- GALM
- Was there much student activity at Immaculate Heart during the
disruptive campus years?
- CORITA
- Well, it was very mild, whatever there was, compared with what was going
on at Berkeley, for example. Nothing like that. It was at that time
almost totally a girls' school. There were some boys in the music
department. I think the students were involved, but they were .... Well,
at that time--I can't speak of now, but at that time — none of them were
involved in drugs or in that end of the scene, and they were probably
involved in school and their own social life.
- GALM
- Did the art department ever become a hub of political activity?
- CORITA
- No. Other than those things like the IBM exhibit. That's as far as we
went. And the Mary's Day things, which were political in a sense, as far
as issues were concerned. But certainly not about candidates.
- GALM
- Why don't we shift over to a major commission that you had, and that was
the Vatican Pavilion wall. You mentioned last time that the invitation
to do it did not come from church authorities.
- CORITA
- Didn't come from Rome. [laughter]
- GALM
- Who did it come from?
- CORITA
- Norman Laliberte was in charge of a large area on the first floor. It
was a two-floor exhibit. Did you see it?
- GALM
- No.
- CORITA
- So he was really the one who wrote to me and asked if I would do it. So
I did three and chose the one I liked best and sent it.
- GALM
- You did three, what? In scale or in full?
- CORITA
- No, I did three full ones because I had never done anything that big.
Well, I had done, I think, a billboard, small, and then it was blown up.
I've forgotten what it was for, even. But I just felt I wanted to do
more than one. In fact, I usually do more than one of a thing when I'm
doing a job because I work very much from a kind of intuitive level; I
have to be very free when I'm working, and sometimes you're not free
when you start. And then you get relaxed into an idea, and there is a
greater communication, I think, between what starts at the gut level and
what comes out of your hand. At that time, I had a good friend who was
principal over at the [Mother of] Good Counsel School [Carol Carrig],
which was close to the college, and she lent me their school basement,
which was stored with all kinds of furniture, including two large
tables. So we moved all the furniture to one side of the room — this was
forty feet long — and I would spread out the area I was working on, on
two big tables, probably about once and a half again the size of this
room. And then the other part--as I finished it, I'd drape it over the
furniture and then pull it down as I needed it. [laughter] CALM: Were
you given the theme — the Beatitudes--or was that . . . ?
- CORITA
- I think I was, yes.
- GALM
- I came across something, and it sounded like it was the description for
the commission, that it had to be 4 X 40 feet, or was that just . . . ?
- CORITA
- That's right, no, that's right. That was the space that they had for it.
- GALM
- And were you given $2,500 to do it?
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- It had to be to New York by March 1?
- CORITA
- Right.
- GALM
- You got $700 for two sisters to fly out to check it out?
- CORITA
- Right.
- GALM
- You mentioned that you did three. Would you recall which one you
actually took?
- CORITA
- Yes. I'm trying to remember whether it was first, second, or third, in
order. Is that what you're asking?
- GALM
- I'm trying to test your feeling of opening up after you've worked
with--whether it actually was one of the later ones.
- CORITA
- I'm not really sure. It was either the second or the third. I did one
that was very, very much like my prints, very free shapes, and just the
words of the Beatitudes themselves. I had made my own set of Beatitudes
by taking phrases from different translations of Scripture that I liked.
None of them quite seemed all good, but some of them were good in parts.
I put my own together, so to speak. The first one had just the words,
and then--don't remember the order of the other two, but for one I chose
words from John F. Kennedy and Pope John, who were, of course, the great
heroes of the time; and then the other one was much smaller in scale. In
fact, I really liked it better than the one I sent, but it was to be up
above eye level, probably from about eight feet down four feet. And the
one that consisted of quotations from many, many people was much smaller
in scale. The words were too small, I felt, to be read at that level,
though I liked it better than the one I sent. And later, that one, the
first one, got sold at an art sale when I was away. And the one with the
smaller words was purchased by the United Church people; they circulated
it for a number of years, and I don't know where it finally ended up.
And--or did they buy the . . . ? Yes, I take it back. They purchased the
one from the Vatican Pavilion and circulated it among their groups. And
the one with the small printing, I exhibited in a couple of places; and
then it was finally purchased by Fullerton Junior College, and it's in
their cafeteria now. And that's kind of a nice offshoot. It's right down
above the table which holds the food, so it's great. The students can
read at eye level as they go by.
- GALM
- What was the reaction to it? I've heard of the positive reaction. Was
there much negative reaction to it?
- CORITA
- I don't remember any negative reaction connected with that. Actually,
Laliberte's work was very much, at that time, in tune with it. So that
whole area was really very nicely designed as a kind of unit. The mural
you passed by just before you got into the Pieta area. And if there were
bad things, I don't remember ever hearing them. I got a lot of good
response from it, but I don't remember ever hearing anything negative.
Probably was said, I'm sure, among all those people.
- GALM
- Then you did get some other major commissions. The Westinghouse — that
came a little bit later, 1966.
- CORITA
- You're so good with my dates.
- GALM
- I've looked them up.
- CORITA
- The Westinghouse series, I guess you'd call them. David Lewis, who is in
charge of advertising — or sales promotion, some such thing — came out
to see me in the art department when I was still teaching and talked
about this series. At that time, neither of us knew how long it was
going to go on. So I said, yes, I would be interested. So I did it, and
it's still going on. About three or four years ago, they made a
portfolio. When they put the ad in the magazine each time, they also
have a silk-screen print made from it in an edition of about 200 or 300,
and these are sent as gifts to the people on the president's mailing
list — that is, [Donald H.] McGannon. Not the president of the United
States, [laughter] the president of Group W. And they also have reprints
which they send to people who write in for them, which are printed on
better paper. They made a portfolio of the past designs--I think they're
the first sixteen, beautifully presented--and then this also was mailed
to that same mailing list [The Corita Collection : An
Expression of Broadcasting Philosophy ] .
- GALM
- It's unfortunate that's such a limited edition.
- CORITA
- Yes, right. Except the original thing in the magazine is not very
limited, and usually it's in about three or four magazines. Not always
the same ones: some- times in a trade magazine, and then sometimes in
Fortune , sometimes in Time and Newsweek, or ... .
- GALM
- Did that please your goals, the fact that it would receive such wide
circulation?
- CORITA
- Very much. Because I think this is what really kept me in prints after I
got started, though I have done some paintings. I really like the idea
of lots of people being able to have them and my being able to keep one
myself. So, yes, I've always had the feeling that I want the stuff to
get out. Like I would love to do billboards.
- GALM
- You've done one, haven't you?
- CORITA
- Yes, I've done one, and I've done another one that will go up this
summer, I think, for the college.
- GALM
- For Immaculate Heart?
- CORITA
- For Immaculate Heart. But I just love the idea of the work being really
public. I think I feel a bit private now about myself, but I like the
work to be public.
- GALM
- Was the Container Corporation [of America ] --was that a similar
project?
- CORITA
- That was just a single invitation.
- GALM
- In other words, that wasn't a series.
- CORITA
- No, no. It was a series, but I was just one of the people in the series.
- GALM
- Oh, I see.
- CORITA
- In fact, I think they sort of really had a great deal of influence on
magazine ads. At least some companies since have done that sort of
thing, giving an artist a whole page and just a byline for the company.
And of course the Westinghouse people went one step further and gave me
the whole page without a byline. They have a separate page with their
information on it.
- GALM
- Did you have any input as to the selection of the men, the words of
wisdom?
- CORITA
- No, David usually chooses those. I always have the freedom to refuse to
do it if I don't like it, and they'll find another one. But they've
always just been things that were very much to my liking.
- GALM
- Never refused a one.
- CORITA
- Never refused a one, yes. That's been a lovely kind of relationship
because there has never been any kind of written contract or any
confusion or complexity or trouble. It just has been a very simple
arrangement.
- GALM
- I heard through a second or a third or a fourth party that you also did
a happening for the Westinghouse people back in Philadelphia. Would you
describe that?
- CORITA
- Yes. It was in a program with an architect and a city planner, so there
were three of us on the program. No, I'm getting it mixed up with
Winterfest, which I did for Boston. Well, I did several of these, and
they mainly consisted of an introductory talk, in which I would discuss
a bit of the feeling and reason behind celebration, what visual things
did for us, and what it meant for a group of people to do things
together. [I would] just sort of get the people to the point where they
would do the things from a spirit of their own understanding rather than
having something silly dictated to them to do or something that would
make them feel silly, because I think if they were taken out of context,
they might feel silly doing them. We had prepared, I think, a bag for
each person, and there were — let's see — there were balloons and hats
and I can't remember what ....
- GALM
- I think a quotation, too, possibly.
- CORITA
- A quotation, yes, a quotation that they were to read to the person next
to them. So it was an effort to have a small celebration just about
being together because it really wasn't commemorating anything or
celebrating anything outside of just the fact that we were there
together.
- GALM
- This individual said that they all broke out singing "Auld Lang Syne. "
- CORITA
- Yes, now that you say that, yes. [laughter]
- GALM
- Which does seem to indicate that the spirit was moved.
- CORITA
- Yes, yes. Well, again, then I think--maybe I mentioned this to you when
I was talking about giving assignments ....
1.4. TAPE NUMBER: II, SIDE TWO APRIL 13, 1976
- GALM
- You were going to mention something about student assignments in
connection with — did you actually call these happenings, or . . . ?
- CORITA
- Yes, they did.
- GALM
- Oh, they did. [laughter] What did you call them?
- CORITA
- I don't know--they were just jobs. [laughter] But in giving assignments
to the students, I think I talked to you about trying to separate their
reasoning function from their intuitive function, or maybe more their
analytical function from their synthetic function, their putting things
together. Or their critical — that's better — the critical from their
creative function. So that if you could get people to the point where
their critical faculties were involved in something, almost anything,
their creative functions could function more freely, because they don't
go together: one is taking apart, and one is putting together; one is
making, and one is reviewing what has been made. And if you're reviewing
while you are making, you become very awkward in the making. I suppose
it would be like an actor thinking "Now I am acting and what is the
audience thinking?" instead of just being fully in the part. So for the
happening, I usually had about five or six things as instructions that I
would tell them to do, and they were very definite with very short-term
goals so that nobody in the room would feel that they were difficult to
do. I mean, trained as we are to do what we're told to do, they were
very serious about this and they would do them — one, two, three, four,
five. And they were so constructed, the directions, that they created
the form for the celebration, and the people then brought that form to
life.
- GALM
- What was the company trying to accomplish by these assignments?
- CORITA
- I think companies or anybody that puts on conventions is always trying
to do something that will make the convention less deadly, [laughter]
rather than just having all speeches or all discussions--to have
something. In fact, where was it that we did a program with . . . ? Oh,
I know. I was invited to put on one of these happenings at a ... . What
was it called? I'm trying to think if it was at Yale or some comparable
institution, and they were having a meeting of theologians. And we were
on the last night. I brought two people along to help me. And all of the
people said, "You know, it would have been much better if this had
happened at the beginning of the conference instead of at the end."
Because it just sort of undid everybody: they started talking to each
other and being very relaxed. And it would have been a good thing to
start with and then carry on their deep theological discussions.
- GALM
- I know when we ended last time, you mentioned that you had just received
from a friend a Hallmark brochure or something ...
- CORITA
- A book.
- GALM
- . . . and that what they were doing were things that you and your
students at Immaculate Heart had thrown away, or had ....
- CORITA
- Well, I was thinking not so much that we had thrown away, but they were
obviously borrowed techniques. They were poor examples of things that we
would have discarded if I had the group. You know, if I had each person
do a group of fifty, then we would choose the best from that. And I
think it had the tone that they were things we wouldn't have taken.
- GALM
- You mentioned that they were dead. What techniques did you use to infuse
life into . . . ?
- CORITA
- Well, I think for me, in a picture, life is a sort of synonym for
quality. And if a thing has quality, it lives. And if it's hackneyed or
if it's amateurish, or if it just doesn't have good form, doesn't have
good shapes, it just doesn't work. Like bad poetry, you know. They can
use marvelous words, but put them together in the wrong order, or use
corny words--you know the difference between a good poem and a bad poem,
or one that just really excites you and which you can live with for a
long time or something you read and you say, "Well, that's rather
obvious." So I think some of those same distinctions hold, and it's a
matter of just exercising yourself in looking until you become more and
more refined. And then, of course, you always have surprises, too. I
always had great surprises with the students. As they would put out
their things, we would all stand around and talk about them. A lot of
times, I would look at a certain piece and say, "I don't like that." I
would say this to myself, and as different people talked about it, a lot
of times I would look at it again and find that there was something in
it that my set of prejudices had prevented me from seeing; I began to
see it differently and liked it. So that it wasn't a matter of quality,
it was a matter of myself blocking myself from seeing what may have been
a new form to me.
- GALM
- I noticed in one of the things that you'd written — I assume that maybe
it was a pass-out to the students--that you were talking about screens
that operate and that there are two major screens, one being the screen
of history, and I think the other screen being that--it has to do with
ugliness, that ....
- CORITA
- We have in our minds that certain things are ugly, and so we don't
really look at them.
- GALM
- Did you have any specific assignments for them to overcome this
prejudice?
- CORITA
- Yes, I remember at that time I was very excited about billboards. I
guess it was the whole era of pop art. And I also got very excited about
sections of the city that I would have called ugly before. I took the
students to — there were two Mark [C.] Bloome tire companies; one was
the one on Sunset Boulevard, I think, and the other was down on La Brea,
perhaps, or in that area below Wilshire. So we just went there, either
with cameras or with little finders, you know, a piece of paper with a
rectangle cut out of the center which you can look in and just see a
small section. And we just spent the afternoon, two afternoons, one at
one place and one at the other, just looking. And of course, taking off
small pieces, little rectangles, that are like taking a picture, you can
take a section, or maybe a section of a letter [where] not the whole
word shows and certainly not the whole gas station. There were some
things you couldn't do anything good with, like artificial flowers. And
there was a marvelously funny wall behind the one down on La Brea,
behind piles of tires. The piles of tires were beautiful because they
were really just piled up so nicely, and they were nice looking as
tires, and all. And behind them was painted — or I guess it was
wallpaper — a kind of imitation bricks and ivy. [laughter] It was
hysterical. But then I was thinking the other day — I was driving down,
riding down Western Avenue, down as far as Third street, and I couldn't
believe how ugly a place could be. And then of course I think I feel
very differently about Hollywood, having lived in Boston, because I'm
living in a part of Boston in which the houses were built in the late
1800s, and they have such a community. They belong together, even though
they're very different and have kind of funny parts to them, as if they
were taken out of a catalog and put together. But they're all kind of
brownstone, and they're all about the same height, and they're all
residences — though by now cut up into apartments, but they were
residences .
- GALM
- Of course, massage parlors moved into Western after you left.
- CORITA
- Right. Oh, yes, yes.
- GALM
- Can you see beauty in those signs? [laughter]
- CORITA
- No, I couldn't. I said to myself, "This is really depressing. This is
really ugly." So I think it had to do with selecting out of that. It was
not really .... Then, of course, if you put a lot of things together,
like a whole row of neon signs, for example, even if they have little
cocktail signs with water dripping into them, still, the conglomerate
can be kind of exciting. Like Broadway, I guess. Somebody said if you
couldn't read English, Broadway would be beautiful with its night
lights.
- GALM
- Your prints that now depend — no, I shouldn't use the word "depend" —
that use phrases that are so well known to the mind, like "a tiger in
your tank"--well, of course, twenty years, thirty years from now, no
one'll realize the significance of some of those phrases, those catch
phrases.
- CORITA
- I don't think I ever worry about something I do lasting forever. I think
at that time, those were very meaningful to some people, and it was just
a kind of contagious, fun thing that I got into.
- GALM
- Do you think they can still stand on their own merit, then?
- CORITA
- I think so, visually, um-hmm. Not in the same sense, I suppose, as the
more poetic ones would, but I think those distinctions are not really
valid. Things are different, and maybe one isn't better than the other.
And some things that last longer may not be better than some things that
are just good for the moment. I think I don't like distinctions much.
[laughter]
- GALM
- Can you remember the first time that you decided to take a slogan, a TV
slogan, or a Madison Avenue phrase?
- CORITA
- Yes. One summer, the last print I made — I think it was the last print I
made — was Go Slow. Well, that was taken from
just a traffic signal, and it had a — what is it? — a reverse curve,
that warns you that you're coming to the end. It also has an arrow. And
then I entitled it Luke --I've forgotten the
chapter and verse, but it was that section in St. Luke where he talks
about Mary keeping all these things in her heart [Luke 2:14,51]. And
there was a big, red heart in it also. So I really thought of that as my
then picture of the Immaculate Heart, which was just a very bold,
graphic set of symbols. That was the first one. And then another one of
the very early ones was, I took the "In" from the parking lot next to us
and the arrow and used that pretty literally [In] . But it depends on
the colors and shapes and what you do with them. I did this for two or
three years, two at least, and I remember it was the second year, that
summer we were up at Montecito with Dan Berrigan. And I remember once,
we had a marvelous night. There were about four of us with Dan, and I
knew that I was going to come home and make my prints. And I thought,
"Well, this is a great opportunity. I'll get some help before I go." So
we all got together with a bunch of magazines and tore phrases. I
suggested that everybody take two phrases from separate ads that were
fun together. And some of those I actually pasted up and used.
- GALM
- Was there an inclination at first to tie in the phrases to something
more--such as a biblical phrase, or a . . . ?
- CORITA
- Yes, for the most part, I thought of them as meaning something else.
Like, "put a tiger in your tank" I really think of as saying [that] the
spirit, whatever the spirit means to us, is inside of us, the God who is
in us, or who is us, whatever, however you want to say it. Coming out of
me, I think people read them on that level. And usually, these prints
were seen in the context of a show, where there was enough — how shall I
say it? — well, there might be a poem or another phrase, or it might
even be a scriptural phrase juxtaposed or a poetic phrase juxtaposed. So
they got the idea that these were to be read on another level. So they
became symbols, in a sense.
- GALM
- Did you always feel that juxtaposition was necessary for the people to
understand? Or eventually could the phrase stand on its own, even though
it was, say, a common phrase?
- CORITA
- I think I always wanted to do something with it myself, because even the
In print, as I now think, had a little phrase
from Lewis Carroll which says, [laughter] "When I choose a word, it
means just what I choose it to mean."
- GALM
- I guess that's exactly what you're doing, isn't it?
- CORITA
- Yes. [laughter] It's the old teacher in me, I guess, yes.
- GALM
- What about colors? When you decide upon color .... That one is black,
and it's blue, and it's very strong.
- CORITA
- Yes, yes. I love that print [In] . It's one of my
very favorites. Well, the color--you know, it was funny: in that time
when I was describing working with a group of people helping, a lot of
times whoever was mixing the paint would say, "What color are you going
to use next?" And I would say, "Why don't you make one, and we'll see if
it works?" So, sometimes it was a surprising thing like that because
somebody else would be throwing in a color. I'm sure if I hadn't liked
it, I would have said no. But if it came from somebody else, and I liked
it, I took it. For example, the colors in my newest prints, I just felt
a need to move away from the primary colors, the rainbow colors, which
I'd been using for a number of years, and do something that was just a
little different, kind of off, kind of calm. And these prints — they
just came this morning — as I look at them, I find them very calm and
quiet. From time to time I have read myself, and now I think I'm more up
with myself, and I know that there is a calming in me. When I was making
the prints, I didn't think, "I am feeling calmer now," but as I look at
them now, I say, "Yeah, that's what's happening in me, too."
- GALM
- So in that middle period, say in the sixties, there was perhaps more of
a need to make strong statements with strong color?
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- You mention community. You mentioned the students began to reject the
idea of working in a group assignment.
- CORITA
- Some, not all. Some were the good old-fashioned kind who were willing,
gung-ho to do anything. And I thought of these group projects as
marvelous experiences for the students, because I thought, well, if
they're going to get into art work, this is what they're going to be
doing. They're going to be working for somebody, and they're going to
have to take orders from someone; and they'll never have it this good
because they'll never get to really do their own things. They'll
probably in the beginning be more often told what to do more
specifically than I was telling them. But I thought here was a chance to
have their work shown publicly and also to be a part of something
bigger. But that was my view of it, and it wasn't always theirs — or the
view of all of them.
- GALM
- Do you think the Immaculate Heart art department was unique in that it
undertook so many group projects?
- CORITA
- Yes, I think so.
- GALM
- Anybody else that you know of that was doing . . . ?
- CORITA
- No, no. People were having exhibits of student work, but they would be
assemblages of individual work. I'm not saying again that one is better
or one is worse, but they're just — it was a kind of different
experience.
- GALM
- Was that an approach that you began immediately as soon as you started
teaching in art?
- CORITA
- No, no. I think in the beginning I taught more as I had been taught, and
this sort of evolved as we bumped into different things, as we bumped
into new problems.
- GALM
- Do you think that the fact that you were part of a community--did that
have any bearing on your ability, perhaps, to work with community
projects?
- CORITA
- I never thought of it, but I'm sure it made it a very natural thing to
do, yes.
- GALM
- Because there must have been other things within the community that you
did as a community.
- CORITA
- Um-hmm, um-hmm, right.
- GALM
- Learned how to make use of the best.
- CORITA
- Yes, that's right, um-hmm. In fact, the whole community was just that.
[laughter] With each person doing what she could do best.
- GALM
- Well, it sort of struck me when you said that about the students
beginning not to want to do as much as group projects that maybe--was it
just a reflection of time change?
- CORITA
- Well, I think maybe that was a reflection, and maybe this is getting
back to the question you asked earlier, that that was probably the form
that revolt took place. I mean, the form which the revolt took on our
campus was that the students got to be not wanting to be told what to
do. And it began to sort of disintegrate all of the requirements and the
prepared programs. Now I think there are no requirements except those
that each department sets up. And those are very few. I think in one
sense, it was a necessity, and they probably had to come to it. But I
think in another sense, something is lost because there were many
required classes that the students would take and would then get wildly
interested in. It may just have turned their whole direction or made
them change their major, and if they hadn't been forced into the class,
they would never have chosen to take it. So I suppose it's like anybody,
like people raising children. It's always a hard line; it's always hard
to draw the line or hit the balance as to what young people should be
just commanded to do which they'll never have sense enough to choose for
themselves, or how much they should be allowed .... I remember Margaret
Mead saying — I went to a very small seminar of hers in the East, and
there were about four students who came with this one teacher. They were
college-age students, young college. And Margaret Mead was saying that
she thought everyone should put in two years of voluntary service to
their country — certainly not going to war, but just helping people. And
this one young man said, "I don't think that's a good idea. I wouldn't
mind volunteering, but I wouldn't like to be told what to do." And she
turned on him, and she said, "That's just the trouble with you young
people today. You don't want to be told to do anything." [laughter] She
said, "You know very well that if it weren't enforced, or if it weren't
an obligation, most young people wouldn't do it." She really gave it to
him in no uncertain terms. But I think that's true: a lot of people
wouldn't. And yet at the same time, it's awful to force people to do
things.
- GALM
- You also mentioned that there was perhaps a certain resentment of your
growing reputation as an artist.
- CORITA
- Um-hmm. It was a very difficult time, I think, for the students because
I was away a lot more than they thought I should be away. And again, I
thought that was good for them because I would leave them with a lot of
work to do. They had peace and quiet to do it in, and then when I came
back, you know, we would look at the work. And then it got also very
difficult because we began to have a lot of visitors at the college, and
sometimes that interfered with classes, or it would take me out of the
class. And some of the students resented that. So the fame sort of got
in the way, in a sense. And they were just angry. But as I say, students
were angry in those days. So it was . . .
- GALM
- You were a focus for some of it.
- CORITA
- Yes, yes.
- GALM
- When did your fame really begin?
- CORITA
- I think it just sort of grew as I began to exhibit and then do some
public things.
- GALM
- Was there any one particular . . . ?
- CORITA
- You see, I've been at work a long time.
- GALM
- From ' 51 to . . . . [laughter] That's pretty good.
- CORITA
- Yes, to '76. At one of my exhibits, this young boy came up to me and
said, "You know, I really like the sort of stuff you're doing, this
putting words and shapes together." He said, "You know, I'm out of a job
now, and I was wondering if you could tell me how to get started in
this, producing these things." He was looking at the cards that were
made from the prints. And I had such a sinking feeling because I
thought, here's this young kid who just thinks he can start, and what a
rude awakening he has in store for him! So then I think I said something
about, well, you know, I taught for thirty-two years and did this on the
side, and then I began — I was finished teaching — doing it full time or
as much time as I wanted to spend on it. So I said, "It's a matter of
working at it for a long time."
- GALM
- Was there ever a point before you stopped teaching, that you thought to
yourself that you wanted to be artist first and teacher second?
- CORITA
- No. No, I always thought I wanted it the other way around. I always
thought that I was a teacher and not an artist, and that I really did
that on the side.
- GALM
- Was there a great enough shift in feeling that it entered into your
leaving the community?
- CORITA
- No, no. I think — well, I shouldn't say that, because I think that first
summer that I went away, it was [with] this friend of mine, Celia
Hubbard, with whom I went to stay in Cape Cod, who lives in Boston. She
was the one who had, I think, written a letter--I found this out
later--to the president of the college to say if something weren't done
about me, I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Other people could
see the pace at which I was going, which was really insane toward the
end, and I don't think I quite realized it. I was young and healthy, and
I said no to so many things that I thought I was saying no to as much as
was possible. But apparently I wasn't. So when I found out how simple
life was just staying with one person and making prints for a whole
summer, it began to dawn on me what I had been doing, and I just
couldn't do it anymore. I had to get away from it, I think, to see it,
get out of it to experience what it was to be out of it, before I could
realize it. And it was at that point that I decided that I just couldn't
teach anymore, that I didn't want to teach anymore. Because I had a lot
of offers to teach after I left, marvelous people who wrote, you know.
Some of them were worried about what I was going to do. [laughter]
"We'll take you!" And in fact a couple of years ago, I was asked to be
the artist in residence at Harvard, and I just burst out laughing
because it just struck me as so funny, really. I said I was sorry; I was
really very impressed and very honored, but I just couldn't connect it
with me. But then I said I really wasn't ready to get back into that, if
I ever would be, because it would mean, you know, going to the school
two or three days a week, being there, doing my own work, and letting
the students come as they wanted to — and I think I can't work anymore
except by myself. So to think of having students around--I suppose if I
did it, it might be fun; and I really don't ever close the door and say
I will never teach again. In fact, I did teach a night [class] --this
time I was in Los Angeles--for a group, but it was because I was very
interested in the person who had the group and I wanted to do it. And it
was a fun experience. But I love the freedom of not being responsible
for anybody else.
- GALM
- But during those last years, you had never got to the point where you
actually resented the students?
- CORITA
- As interfering with my own work? No. Because I really thought that was
my work. See, I think I am very creative, and I think my teaching was
very creative. I think it's possible to do anything, like to teach —
almost anything that's relatively human--and be creative in it. I don't
think you have to be painting or sculpting or composing music to be
artistic or to be creative. And I think that that satisfied my creative
.... I found teaching really always very hard because I think I always
maintained the feeling that I couldn't do it, that I wasn't quite up to
it. So I worked very hard, and I think I made classes very good because
I wasn't too sure of myself. So that was a kind of a bonus, a painful
bonus.
- GALM
- Were your students able to go out and be themselves as artists, or was
there an inclination for them to be other Coritas?
- CORITA
- Little Coritas. Very few of the students in the early days went into the
arts. In fact, we used to discourage them against it. We said to them
very frankly, you know, "If you go into the art field, you will start at
the bottom; you will do things that you know you don't want to do and
that you know you are not good at. It would be much better if you got a
job typing or teaching or doing something and did your art on the side
until you got to the point"-- which I suppose was really my own pattern
— "got to the point where it would be acceptable. And then you could
switch over into the art." And for the most part, the art majors became
teachers. And I suppose this was a very natural outcome because they
were taught in such a way that they made great teachers. They learned
how to throw problems to their students and let them open up under the
problems, instead of just sort of teaching them in a routine fashion. We
really, I think, sent out some spectacular teachers.
- GALM
- You had mentioned Celia Hubbard. Now, wasn't she the woman who . . . ?
- CORITA
- She was the director of the Botolph [Group Inc.].
- GALM
- Botolph. Were you connected with the Botolph Group from the very
beginning?
- CORITA
- Yes, we had things on exhibit. I had things on exhibit — and I think the
students did, too — in the first exhibit they put on. And then, whenever
we'd go East, that was always one of the places we stopped and spoke for
that group.
- GALM
- How did she form that center?
- CORITA
- She was a convert to Catholicism. She had been a professional artist,
and coming into the Church, she could see the kind of ugly artifacts
that were available to most people and thought it would be a good thing
to do to create a place where people could come to find things for the
home that were beautiful, like crucifixes and pictures and sculptures
and creche sets and so forth. And then they also did some consulting
jobs for churches and chapels in the East.
- GALM
- So her relationship with you would have been just to invite you to show
your work or to actually purchase your work . . .
- CORITA
- . . . and to come and speak, yes.
- GALM
- But you wouldn't have been active in, say, its continuing philosophy.
- CORITA
- No, I think at least toward the end, that need is melting away, people
are also learning that a lot of objects are religious which we didn't
formerly think were religious. So it [Botolph Group Gallery] grew into a
kind of a shop. It was always a very sparkling kind of thing because
Celia's a very sparkling kind of person, and they always had a lot of my
things around, a lot of my cards and prints. I suppose I was sort of
their chief permanent artist, so to speak. But there were always
interesting things there, and it attracted a lot of young people.
- GALM
- I know there was a Boston Tea Party held there. When was that? I wasn't
able to establish the date. Harvey Cox and . . .
- CORITA
- . . . and Dan Berrigan and Judy Collins, yes.
- GALM
- Was that after you moved back?
- CORITA
- Yes. I was living with Celia. I stayed with Celia that first year when
we moved from the Cape back up to Boston. I stayed with her. And it was
during that year--so it must have been '69 or '70. I think it could have
been around Christmastime. And we put it on in a place called the Boston
Tea Party, which was a discotheque, [laughter] which had been an old
church. It had been many different kinds of churches, but it had
originally been built for a church and had been taken over by different
denominations. In fact, it still had the words sort of sculptured over a
great central arch that said something about — it was a scriptural
quotation; I can't think of what it was. But it had just stayed there
all the time. So it was just really for the building that ....
- GALM
- Was it just sort of a fund raiser, or was it just an evening of
celebration?
- CORITA
- No, it was just an evening of celebration. No hat was passed. [laughter]
No admission was charged. It was just a celebration, and it really went
.... I showed a lot of slides, and we had, of course, music with them.
That was during the wartime, so there were a lot of visual commentaries
on that. And then Harvey and Dan spoke, and Judy sang, and I spoke, and
then we had enough bread and wine for everybody. We passed it around. It
was an unbelievable crowd, but we did it.
- GALM
- Did you multiply it a bit, or ... ?
- CORITA
- No, we just bought enough. [laughter] But that was a really marvelous
evening, and it was great. And some people got a little disturbed. Some
of the older Botolph board members got a little disturbed because they
thought we were having communion--which indeed we were. [laughter] But
we were not trying to usurp the powers of the Church. We were just
eating and drinking together.
- GALM
- Now, with these commissions, you were making some money. Right?
- CORITA
- Um-hmm, yes, yes.
- GALM
- Now at that time, was the money then funneled back into the community?
- CORITA
- Into the college.
- GALM
- Into the college.
- CORITA
- Um-hmm, yes. And then, whenever--toward the end, it was really, you
know, greater amounts, as jobs began to multiply, and so it would go to
the college. And then, whenever we needed anything, we would just get it
and send the bills to the business department. So that in a sense we
could do a lot of things because we really had money to work with.
- GALM
- When the college was contemplating a move to Claremont, did the fact
that you and the art department were so active as far as commissions
play into the possiblity of its having money to move?
- CORITA
- No, it never was that much money. No. I think it was more that--I mean,
the contribution we made in that area was more that we had sort of
publicized and helped to create first, I think, some of the spirit that
was communicable. A lot of spirit had always been going on before the
art department got active because we always really had a very creative
faculty. But I think we gave it a kind of push from the inside. Also I
think we could make it public, in a way. For example, the science
department or the language department, though they were good departments
and doing perhaps as effective work as we were doing with their
students, had no way of making themselves known--somewhat to the
resentment, understandably, of, say, the science teachers, who would go
to a convention, and if they said they were from Immaculate Heart — "Oh,
that's that art college." [laughter] And they didn't like being called
an art college. So that was difficult. But, no, the money wasn't that
much.
- GALM
- Did you play a part administratively within the college, other than
chairman of the department? Did you serve on any boards of note?
- CORITA
- There was something — what was it called? I think it was called the
academic senate, but I wouldn't be too sure--which was composed of the
heads of the departments. And we discussed programs and such like.
- GALM
- Did you ever enter into any heavy decision making for the college?
- CORITA
- I don't know. I used to try to avoid committees as far as possible. I'm
not a meeting person. But there was so much interchange among us as
faculty that I think if there was any contribution made, it was made
more on those terms than in a kind of political fashion. I think it's a
better kind of politics.
- GALM
- When did you get into the book publishing business? What was the first
book?
- CORITA
-
Continuum was a magazine — I don't know if it's
still in existence--that was printed in Chicago, which was kind of a
quality theological popular magazine, probably not too popular, but good
quality. I'm trying to think of the man's name who wrote and asked me if
I would do a section for them that would be published in the magazine
and later would be published as a book. [doorbell rings; tape recorder
turned off]
- GALM
- You were talking about Continuum. Was it Continuum?
- CORITA
-
Continuum, yes. And so then they — I think Herder
and Herder; there was some connection with Herder and Herder — and then
they published it in a book form. It was called Footnotes and Headlines. [1967]
- GALM
- So the prayer book was the first publication.
- CORITA
- That's right. That's really the only one that I've written, if you would
call it written. The others are all books which I've sort of coauthored,
by the fact that someone wrote the words and I did the visual part.
- GALM
- How did--like the To-Believe-In series--how did you get caught up with
the poet?
- CORITA
- Well, I had met Joe Pintauro--in fact, he was a priest in the early
days, when I was going to New York. There was sort of a group of friends
in New York whom we'd see all the time, and he was sort of in that
group. And then when he began working in the publishing department--he '
s working for an advertising agency and writes on the side. And he — oh,
I know. I used to answer letters on things that I had printed. No, that
doesn't make sense. If I did something for a company or an organization,
I would usually say, especially in the days before I got paid, do 500
extra for us or 300 extra for us. And then we would give these away, or
I would write letters on them. And I had answered one of his letters on
the back of a reproduction of one of my prints which says, "To believe
in God is to know that all the rules are fair, and there will be
wonderful surprises." And he just got all inspired by that and started
to write, wrote me a great letter--I think it came for Easter--filled
with all kinds of confetti and what have you. But on each page he had
written his own "To believe in God is . . . ." And that was the book
[To Believe in God] . So then later we got
the idea of publishing it.
- GALM
- What about the other book?
- CORITA
- There's one To Believe in Man and one To Believe in Things.
- GALM
- The other question I had is, tell me about Easter tomatoes. Was that the
Heinz Ketchup series, or is that something else?
- CORITA
- Well, I did a print — Sam Eisenstein is a teacher at [L.A.] City
College, an English teacher who writes. He had come to one of the Mary's
Days and had been very moved and wrote me this letter saying how great
it was. And he included this marvelous thing which he had written on
Mary; and one of the phrases that really made it memorable was "Mary was
the juiciest tomato of all." [laughter] And in the context, it was
really beautiful. The whole thing was gracefully done. So I made a print
from it, using those words [Tomato (1967)]. Well,
I was aware of how "tomato" was used colloquially, but I felt--you know,
at that time, language was taking a turn [such that] you could hardly
use a word without it having some other meaning. And I figured that
wasn't fair for people to destroy words that — and at that time, I did a
lot of research into tomato, and Sam did some for me, too, and found out
that it really had a marvelous history and was connected in fact, at one
point, I'm quite sure, with the mystical rose.
1.5. TAPE NUMBER: III, SIDE ONE APRIL 13, 1976 and APRIL 20, 1976 [video session]
- GALM
- I believe you were tracing the origins of tomato and the mystical rose.
- CORITA
- Yeah, there was some medieval use of it as a religious symbol for Our
Lady, I think. I hope I'm not making this up. But that caused just more
trouble than could be imagined over such a simple thing, because people
said, you know, "That's a dirty word. How can you use that in connection
with the Blessed Mother?" So that was ....
- GALM
- Did you get in trouble with the chancery on that, or just overall
criticism?
- CORITA
- Well, they had a funny way of acting. I suppose it was very normal,
because it was a very hierarchical way. I never got into trouble: the
head of the community and the head of the college got into trouble.
[laughter] But they [the chancery] wouldn't bother dealing with me.
- GALM
- How would the head of the college and the head of the community then
deal with you?
- CORITA
- Well, fortunately, they liked what I was doing, you see, and believed
that we should be able to do what we wanted to do. So they would tell me
about it, and we would kind of groan together, and .... GAUI: Go on.
- CORITA
- Yes. But nobody said, "Don't do that anymore."
- GALM
- So was the community life ever a restriction on your artistic endeavor?
- CORITA
- No. I remember we had a few — two people I think of who were at one time
or other the heads of the community who really didn't like what we were
doing, tastewise. I mean, it wasn't to their taste. But there was never
any kind of restriction about it. And I thought it was very interesting,
because one of these people [Sister Regina McPartlin] is now working in
a hospital and came to me the other day to ask me to design three rooms
in the hospital. So if you wait long enough, [laughter] things come
round.
- GALM
- Why don't we stop for today?
APRIL 20, 1976 [video session]
- GALM
- We're here in North Hollywood at 5126 Vineland Avenue, and we're
speaking with Corita Kent in her gallery [Corita Prints]. And with us
are two members of the gallery family, Mary Downey (Mrs. Frank Downey)
and Gladys Collins. I think we might first find out how the two women
became members of Corita' s gallery family. Mary, when did you become
active in Corita' s art life?
- DOWNEY
- Well, Corita first called me in about 1968 and asked if I would come up
and help her just for a few hours a week. I was glad to do that because
I've loved this woman all of my life and knew how hard she'd worked.
Before that, the students had helped with the exhibits going out, and
friends [had helped], but this seemed to be a bleak period, where
everyone had abandoned the ship for some reason.
- CORITA
- And the work got heavier.
- DOWNEY
- That's right. The stacks — the exhibits went up that high. So I went up
at first for just a few hours a week. But then it soon increased,
because during that time, right at that time, I might say, the change in
the community began yeasting. So then that's when I began actually
working directly with Corita in this work.
- GALM
- Had something happened in your own personal life that allowed you the
freedom at this point?
- DOWNEY
- Well, I had lots of boys at home, and I knew when I had finished with
the boys and they had all gone on their own way that that was going to
be my fun work. I was going up to help Corita at the art department. I
didn't know what I could do, but I knew I could do something to be of
help — scrub floors or something. [laughter] So at this time, some of
the boys had left--one was in Vietnam, and one had left unhappily, so I
was kind of unhappy myself. So it was nice to have that break. It was an
exciting place to be.
- GALM
- Mrs. Collins, when did you come to the gallery?
- COLLINS
- Well, I had known the both of them for a long time, and I wasn't doing
anything, and [I was] feeling useless, you know, like I should do
something for humanity or something. So I'd help somebody, and I went
and asked Mary if I might come up and help her one day a week. And in
about two weeks after that, I was helping every day.
- CORITA
- We never let her go. [laughter]
- COLLINS
- We moved out here, and from then on ... . Oh, my friends are so envious
of me, to have such a beautiful job, which is just as I want, you know,
to come and go as I please, almost, and its being such a lovely place.
"How did [you] fall into it?" they say.
- GALM
- At that time, had you any inkling of what it might become for you?
- COLLINS
- Oh, not at all; oh, not at all. I had no thought of it. I was just
getting tired staying home, and wanted to--I've always loved Immaculate
Heart. The art department there was an inspiration, really. It was just
nice to be there, and I thought I'd go back, be with the young people
and the arts and that.
- GALM
- Corita, when did you meet Gladys, then?
- CORITA
- Well, I had met Gladys, I'm sure, because she was a longtime friend of
Mary's. But I think I--well, I was away, actually, when she came to help
Mary. So I really met her, got to know her, when she was working in the
gallery.
- GALM
- But didn't you know her also as a student, then?
- CORITA
- Yes, I knew her as a student, true. Those were big crowded classes, and
we didn't get very much chance to have contact. But Gladys was in
classes for quite a while.
- COLLINS
- Eight years.
- CORITA
- Eight years, during those times, yes.
- COLLINS
- Adult education.
- GALM
- How large were those classes?
- CORITA
- Well, they started out at about--they could be sixty or seventy, the
first night. They weren't always that big the second night. [laughter]
- GALM
- What did you do to scare them away?
- CORITA
- Well, the first night was sort of an indoctrination and the beginning
assignment.
- COLLINS
- Oh, that did it.
- CORITA
- That did it. I remember once we had a mathematician who did a great deal
of traveling in his work, and he had to miss classes once in a while. He
finally came and said, — he was doing his work on the plane going back
and forth, what could be done in a small space — and he said, "When I
came to take the course, I didn't know it was going to take my whole
life." [laughter] But the weak ones dropped out quickly.
- GALM
- So you must have been a very strong one, Gladys, because you stayed for
six or eight years. [laughter]
- CORITA
- She was a strong one, yes.
- GALM
- What was your feeling, the first assignment period that . . . ?
- COLLINS
- Well, as she said, the first day, she would tell them a big assignment,
and that would scare a lot of people. But I thought maybe I could get
[by] with not so much.
- DOWNEY
- She being a teacher knew some of the tricks.
- GALM
- So you thought perhaps there was a little bit of bluff there.
- COLLINS
- I thought there was a little break I could get by with.
- GALM
- Over the years, over the time that you were a student, what assignment
stood out as being the most exciting?
- COLLINS
- Making banners, I believe. Corita had charge of those banners, and
during several years at Immaculate Heart, they made huge banners. They
would have parades, and they were tall--they were as tall as a room.
We'd make those, and very often we'd make a story, in the banner, of
some kind.
- GALM
- Did you participate in Mary's Day?
- COLLINS
- Yes, yes. I did.
- GALM
- Can you describe what it was like to be a participant?
- COLLINS
- Well, very exhilarating, very exciting, color and happiness. And
everybody was happy, walking up the hill with their banners flying, and
color, and sitting down and eating bread. I don't know whether they had
wine or not.
- CORITA
- Yes, we had wine, I think.
- COLLINS
- I don't remember that.
- DOWNEY
- It was real, wasn't it?
- COLLINS
- Yes, it was a spontaneous movement, I believe. I don't think anybody--it
was never rehearsed.
- CORITA
- No.
- COLLINS
- They just did it, and they did what they felt like doing.
- CORITA
- There was a lot of planning behind it, but it wasn't ....
- COLLINS
- Oh, I'm sure.
- CORITA
- But the actions weren't rehearsed.
- GALM
- Why did you need a gallery at this point?
- CORITA
- Well, at that time, the art department was getting more and more
crowded, partly because of the folk art collection and partly because
the students were increasing. We finally got down to having one big room
where everything happened. So Mary and Glady would be wrapping exhibits
to go or taking care of their business, and the lights would go out for
that class to show a film. So it was partly crowded and partly the
amount of activity there. And we decided that it would be better for the
prints to be out someplace else. It was at that time that Mary and Frank
located this place, which was close to their home. We thought of it at
that time just as a storage space, and then it gradually worked into a
gallery.
- GALM
- Were you having any problem with security of the prints at Immaculate
Heart at that point?
- CORITA
- No, not really. I think we used to have a kind of joking curse over the
door that — I mean, it was purely mental — that anyone who took anything
would really feel bad about it.
- GALM
- For days.
- CORITA
- Right, right. [laughter] No, it was really amazing, but we didn't have
that problem.
- GALM
- Or even, I mean, the handling--perhaps too much handling?
- CORITA
- Well, they were always in cabinets and fairly safe, or up on the wall
where people could look at them.
- GALM
- I see. Well, once you had decided on the property, Mary, how did you go
about creating a gallery?
- DOWNEY
- Well, just as Gladys said earlier, it just evolved. Because first we
kept pouring the stuff in from the art department up here, and our boys
helped and some students helped and Frank helped. And it was just like
Bekins storage: we got a big truck and just carried them in and carried
them in. We've taken pictures of them, of the gallery in those early
days--just stores, stacks of these prints. And we brought the drawers
right out from the cabinets up there, rolled the drawers out. And then
the boys brought the shelves and they drove them right in here. And then
the other prints — Frank made all those cabinets, those levels of
shelves. And we got the idea to make boxes, so we made our own boxes,
with staplers and such, and numbered them and all. And we were just so
much intent on that, on caring for the prints and getting them in an
order, that I don't think we ever thought of it as a gallery.
- COLLINS
- We just kept — one thing would happen, and then something else, and we
would change.
- GALM
- What prompted you to start thinking of it as a gallery?
- DOWNEY
- Well, I think some of the people did know we had moved here with
Corita's prints. That's the attraction, you must remember. And they kept
coming in. And then I can't stand a place when it's ugly. And I think
Corita's prints are so beautiful that they really deserve a beautiful
background. So Corita paid to have — we asked her, and she said, "Just
go ahead," so we had it painted, we all pitched in and painted; and then
later on, we had the floor laid, and it came to be what it is today. The
background is nice, and it's not really very pretentious; but it is an
atmosphere like Corita and her prints are, that everybody feels welcome.
They're not put off, like a fancy gallery might. They feel welcome and
at home and able to look at the prints, no pressure for them to buy. We
know they'll buy; [laughter] they can't help but buy.
- GALM
- This is an iffy question. Do you think the gallery would have its same
popularity — or not popularity, but perhaps atmosphere — if it were
located on La Cienega or in Beverly Hills?
- CORITA
- I think that's an easy question to answer. I think it would have the
same atmosphere if the same people were in charge. I think it's these
two people and their helpers who are behind the scenes right now who
really make the place, rather than the address. I don't think we could
ever get fancy. [laughter] We can be beautiful, but not fancy.
- GALM
- At this point, were you represented by any galleries in Los Angeles?
- CORITA
- Yes. Early on, when I started to make prints, we began sending them out
to galleries. We usually had about twenty-five to thirty galleries that
handled the prints and would have shows, perhaps once a year, when I
would do a new set of prints.
- GALM
- Did you have any outlet, though, in Los Angeles, other than Immaculate
Heart?
- CORITA
- No. That was its own good outlet.
- GALM
- So what were the first duties, then, as far as the gallery? You created
storage for the prints, but then what?
- DOWNEY
- Well, that did take some time and some doing. And then Corita--this
Plexiglas frame that is so beautiful combined with Corita's prints ....
We asked Corita if we could have some frames to hang, and she said yes,
but she said she didn't want us to get involved in frames because she
didn't want us to work too hard. But we chose to get involved in frames.
And they caused us many headaches, the frames. But so we did begin
hanging them. And then people did keep coming in. And then your big--it
was Jack, a friend of Corita's, Jack Mullen, who has since died, but he
was a super swell guy. It was his idea that as long as it's going to be
a little gallery that Corita should have good publicity. He was a PR man
for the movies, and he had a beautiful spread in the L. A. Times when we decided it would be a gallery. We had
nobody who knew we were here. That was a very, very lovely time. And it
had a great deal to do, its success, in a sense, with Jack, who had the
know-how and the gift to--he wanted Corita to have the best.
- GALM
- Do you recall the date of that opening, the year, at least?
- CORITA
- It must have been about '70, I would say.
- DOWNEY
- Yes, it was.
- CORITA
- In '69 or '70.
- GALM
- When you first started using the Plexiglas, was this before they became
sort of standard sizes, or did you have to actually have it custom-made?
- DOWNEY
- It was very new then.
- CORITA
- And hard, because I'd forget to make things standard size. [laughter]
- DOWNEY
- We feel she shouldn't be bothered with that limitation either.
- GALM
- So since that time, it is not even a consideration when you do a print.
- CORITA
- No, no.
- GALM
- It's just the design itself that determines the size, or ... ?
- CORITA
- Yes, it's sort of, I suppose, the way you feel at the moment, how you
feel about the design, what size it should be.
- DOWNEY
- Well, and too, people have asked her, if she's done little ones, "Oh,
why don't you make big ones." She used to make really a lot of big ones,
the size of this one, A Man You Can Lean On. And
then she's made little bitty ones, as tiny as the ones to the left,
there. So in one way, you try to accommodate people who ask you; and in
another way, she does what she feels like.
- GALM
- Does it have anything to do with being able to offer something that is
less expensive than, say, a print of this size?
- CORITA
- Well, it's not always that the print is more expensive if it's bigger.
That's not always the case. But the frames are always more expensive if
they're bigger. So that's a big item. Often the frames are more
expensive than the prints.
- GALM
- What type of person comes here to the gallery? Can you sort of give a
general description?
- DOWNEY
- Really, it's varied. Teachers bring their students here, elementary on
through high school; and students themselves, art students from the
colleges, come and just practically spend a day here. And we have movie
actresses and TV people, engineers and artists themselves. And there are
a number of Oriental architects: some come from San Francisco, and this
is their favorite stop when they come down on a business trip here. And
Corita's work is admired and respected by I think a wide, wide spectrum
of old, young, poor, rich. It has in a way a very universal appeal, it
seems, from who comes in here.
- COLLINS
- Yes, oh, yes, they do. People who are — they don't know very much about
art at all. They are not art collectors, or they don't know very much
about art, but they just like this. It's vivid, and it just suits the
people.
- DOWNEY
- And others are very sophisticated art collectors.
- COLLINS
- Oh, yes.
- DOWNEY
- So it is a kind of a broad spectrum.
- GALM
- Do they want to know a lot about the artist?
- DOWNEY
- Oh, yes, yes. It means a lot to them to know about Corita.
- GALM
- What was Corita like as a young child, as a member of the family, Mary?
- DOWNEY
- Well, I'm prejudiced, because I've said she's my favorite person. She
was delightful. She was the next to the youngest. So at this time I'm
speaking of, in Canada, she was the youngest. So Mother would give her
to us, the older ones, on vacation. We'd take her off; we'd play in the
woods up in Canada. And when we'd bring her back, or when we'd go back
to school. Mother has often said later that she couldn't do anything
with her because she was so spoiled. But she was a little pixie kind of
a young girl. And then as a girl in high school, when she graduated.
Mother made her a beautiful white organdy dress; I curled her hair for
her, and she really was beautiful. We have the picture of her — just
lovely. And always a lilt about her. She had a great group of high
school girlfriends, who she had such fun with. They had a car--one of
the girls had a car in those days--and that was pretty racy, to have a
car with the rumble seat in. They would drive to high school in the car,
and there would be a standard argument in the morning: Mother would want
her to wear a sweater, and she would not wear a sweater. She was a free
spirit, I think.
- GALM
- What was the family's reaction to her decision to become a nun?
- DOWNEY
- Well, you see, our oldest brother — first, our oldest sister had already
become a nun. And then our brother, who was the next in line, was
becoming a priest. So I think with Mother and Daddy, it was probably in
that day they were very happy.
- CORITA
- A-OK. [laughter]
- DOWNEY
- In those days, that was supposed to be the highest, the bestest that you
could do.
- GALM
- How do you arrange your hours here in the gallery, Gladys?
- COLLINS
- From eleven to four, and we are very free to come and go. If we have
something else to do for the day, we just speak to the other one, and we
have another helper, too, Evelyn [Neuendorff ] , who comes in on
Saturdays. We don't like to work on Saturdays, so she works, comes in
Saturdays. But usually, one of us will take one day off a week sometime
to do something else that we want to do. And one will come a little
early, and the other one come later and go home. It's very free, very
easy.
- GALM
- Are you open year-round?
- COLLINS
- No, no.
- DOWNEY
- Yes, yes.
- GALM
- Is the gallery open year-round?
- COLLINS
- Oh, the gallery is open year-round, but we are not always here, both of
us. Mary takes three months vacation. [laughter] I take a month, maybe
two, a different time. I'll take a month at a time.
- DOWNEY
- Glady is very faithful to stay. She really does carry the whole. We've
left her sometimes with a whole series of new prints to get out . . .
- COLLINS
- . . . and new exhibits. That was one.
- DOWNEY
- And new exhibits. And she's carried on, and . . .
- GALM
- When did you decide to expand the activities of the gallery, or the
activities, really, of your art work, to include greeting cards and your
High Cards?
- CORITA
- Well, the high cards were actually the fourth book that I did with
Harper and Row [High Cards ] . We simply decided
not to bind them, not to bind the pages, and have them just be cards and
printed on the back with postcard material. So that was what happened
with the High Cards. I had already done three little books with them:
To Believe in God , To
Believe in Man, and To Believe in
Things. And then some of the other cards were done when I was
staying with Celia Hubbard. I stayed with her when I went back to live
in Boston for that first year. She operated a gallery shop called the
Botolph Group. And I had some of my prints reproduced for cards and did
some original cards for them. They were sold from the store, and then
they also began to distribute them. So that was really the beginning.
And then another couple picked them up. The greeting card company
business is very difficult. And now I'm going to have them with the
American Artist Group, so they will take care of the distribution. So
this is the way things happen. They start in a bungling way and
eventually get shaped up so they work — or get dropped.
- GALM
- How often do you come back to North Hollywood and to the gallery?
- CORITA
- I'm usually back here at least once a year, some- times twice. When I
have my prints, I have them sent out here to sign them. I have a group
of prints ready for a show the last of this month. And other times when
I come out, I just have a sense that it's time to come, and then things
happen around that coming that probably wouldn't happen if I weren't
here. So it has worked out very well that way. And then I go back for a
little peace and quiet and come back again.
- GALM
- How do you arrange the exhibit when you show new things? Do you take
everything down? Or what do you do?
- CORITA
- Well, it depends. I think the present plan is to take everything down
and start again for this exhibit. We'll play around with perhaps having
some of the--a very few of the older prints because I think people are
interested in seeing what happened in the beginning, back in the
fifties.
- DOWNEY
- We did have a fun Never-Never show.
- CORITA
- Never-Again.
- DOWNEY
- Never-Again show. So many people cooperated, who loaned their old, old
prints of Corita's. They weren't for sale, of course, but people enjoyed
that so much because many of the people who had come to know Corita in
her later years had no idea of the quality or the type of her design in
the early days. And they were so generous, because you're always running
a risk, as Glady well knows, in loaning your precious prints. [laughter]
- GALM
- Why does she well know? Why do you well know?
- COLLINS
- Well, one sold that was not supposed to have been sold. [laughter]
- DOWNEY
- Not at our gallery. At a gallery up north.
- GALM
- I see. Well, perhaps we could go into the other room and look at some of
your prints.
- CORITA
- Okay. [tape recorder turned off]
- GALM
- Well, you've laid out some prints, Corita.
- CORITA
- Here we are.
- GALM
- Why don't we look at this early one? This is the first one, right? [The Lord Is with Thee]
- CORITA
- Well, no, it isn't actually the first one. It's probably about the third
or fourth one.
- GALM
- Oh, this isn't the one that you did that summer?
- CORITA
- Yes, it is. Underneath is another print which I had done that summer,
and I had made a couple of prints before I took that class and one other
print in the class before this one. But this was the one I revised into
this when I got home, after summer school was over. And I think it was
really this one that started me exhibiting because we sent it to the
County Museum show and it won the first prize, and then we sent it to
the State Fair and it won the first prize. We sent it here and there,
and it would either win a first prize or not be accepted in the show.
[laughter]
- GALM
- So it was an either-or situation.
- CORITA
- So those were the days that we learned that you didn't base your
reputation or your confidence on what the jurors said. I think that was
a marvelous lesson for me and the students, too: that it didn't have
anything to do with the quality of the print, what the juries said. It
could be the same print, and some juries would turn it down, while
others would think it was good. But this did get me started on the
printing.
- GALM
- You have moved so far away from this approach. Is it still a favorite,
or how do you feel about it?
- CORITA
- A lot of the early ones I really can't bear to look at, but this is not
— not too bad. To me now.
- GALM
- What is the quality that you don't like?
- CORITA
- Well, I feel that it's extremely derivative. It was in my very learning
days. It's very Byzantine, and I think it doesn't have much of me in it.
So it feels awkward and searching.
- GALM
- Sort of representative of what "religious art" (quote-unquote) was doing
at that time?
- CORITA
- Well, no, it really wasn't, because religious art was at that time very
sort of late nineteenth-century, but a bad nineteenth-century quality,
sort of the last unflowering of the Renaissance. I went back earlier to
try to find something that was stronger, and that's what got me into the
Byzantine era, where at least there was strength and beauty. I thought
that was a better thing to be working from.
- GALM
- Were the French doing much in the Byzantine style at that time?
- CORITA
- Yes, yes.
- GALM
- I'm trying to think of the sculptor.
- CORITA
- Marvelous sculpture on the cathedrals.
- GALM
- No, no. I mean in the nineteen-fifties.
- CORITA
- Oh, in the nineteen-fifties . I'm trying to ... .
- GALM
- Is it [Lambert] Rucki?
- CORITA
- The church at Assy was built either in the fifties or early sixties,
which combined a group of artists to work in a single church. Then I
think it was [Henri] Matisse's chapel [Chapelle du Rosaire, Vence] . Was
that in the fifties? I think so. And those were ....
- GALM
- Now, this is another one from the early period.
- CORITA
- That's the same era. And that's beginning to have a little something
because this was really meant to be a picture of the Christ with a home
in his hand, as sort of a house blessing, and it has the word benediction , which is for blessing. [Benedictio] And I tried to do a little drawing of
the Eames house. So it's sort of the modern sneaking in, [laughter]
which is in itself an old tradition because in the early paintings, if
you looked out the window, or if you looked down in the left-hand
corner, you could almost tell what was coming in the next period. I
think that almost told what was coming in the next period for me.
- GALM
- In our other discussions, you mentioned that one of the professors at
Immaculate Heart had reacted to — I believe it was to this work — the
fact that it had contained words. And this is perhaps what really set
you to explore further in this direction.
- CORITA
- Well, I think, first of all, he was so choice with his compliments that
it was a rare thing, and I think that must have stuck with me, I didn't
think — as I think I mentioned to you — I didn't think at that time,
"Ah, now I will do pictures with words in them." But I think that was in
one. And in the early poster making, I think those two things came
together in the picture making.
- GALM
- That was Doctor...
- CORITA
- . . . Dr. Schardt. so those were the early days.
- GALM
- Then what happened? [laughter]
- CORITA
- Then what happened!
- GALM
- I'm going to let you just sort of at random pick them, and perhaps we
can discuss.
- CORITA
- All right. This is from about four, five years back, perhaps. [I Love You Very] I think I've never lost the
words, except occasionally I do prints without words. But this was when
I moved back into the era of great, free brushstrokes, which I was doing
in the early sixties. This is a much older print than that without
words. [Let Him Easter in Us] But in between
these two came many of the ones that had rather commercial letters,
which in fact were taken from billboards. Let's see if we can find one.
I'm trying to reach that one that says, "The." These two, yes. In some
cases they were billboards; in some cases they were words cut out of
magazines and photographed, and sometimes photographed with a curve in
them so that when I projected them and made the stencils, they seemed to
have that kind of movement. And there were two pictures, one quite
similar to this. The other one says, "Who came out of the water?" [Who Came out of the Water ] And this one just
says, as you see, "Ha!" [Ha]
- GALM
- Now, you were beginning to print on a different type of paper, too.
- CORITA
- Yes, these are on pellon, which is a 3M product. It's actually cloth
material, used for clothes lining, like men's coats, in tailoring.
- GALM
- Now was this something that you discovered, or were other printers using
it for production?
- CORITA
- I don't know that anybody else used it. They were using rice paper and
similar papers, but this seemed so very practical and was much cheaper
than the rice paper and much stronger.
- GALM
- Did it give your serigraphs a different quality?
- CORITA
- The paint does look different on them. When you take a slicker surface
or a harder surface, the paint has a more brittle quality — a brighter,
sharper quality, whereas these, no matter how sharp the line is, the
paint has a soft look. So there is that difference. This is one
[untitled] I did for L.A. city, for their celebration of the
Bicentennial. So it was done in Boston for L.A. This whole pile, right
in here, are prints that I did as commissions for groups who wanted to
raise money. This one was for the Chavez people, taking one of Cesar
Chavez's statements ["He gives us the gift of life . . . ."] and making
an edition. Sometimes I write the edition on and sometimes I don't.
[laughter]
- GALM
- Did they usually come to you, the people with the cause, and say, "Would
you do this for us?"?
- CORITA
- Yes, yes. Right. And then sometimes — it depends on the group. If I feel
that it's a group that has no money and can't raise any money, then I
will do it for them for nothing; and if it's a group that can afford to
pay, then they pay. So it's almost as if they're paying to help the
other people. And this was a group of prints done for the Hunger Walk.
[International Walk for Development, May 8-9]
- GALM
- Is the dove out of your toy collection or your folk art collection?
- CORITA
- No, the dove is from my own apartment. It's a beautiful wooden dove made
by probably a Maine primitive. It's a lovely, very roughly hewn wood.
I've used it in a new print this year because it's just a favorite of
mine.
- GALM
- Now, from the older ones to, say, the more bold ones, is there a
difference in technique, or is it just in interpretation?
- CORITA
- Just in interpretation, yes. The technique is the same.
- GALM
- So that hasn't changed at all.
- CORITA
- Well, to a certain extent. Some of these were done with a cut paper
stencil, and others were done by painting a stencil with glue onto the
screen. So there can be a rougher texture, as in these, and again in the
new one. Well, in this one, perhaps, but also in the close-up strokes,
you can see here that this actually was done originally as a painted
stroke, [Bicentennial Print] And then it was--I now have someone do my
printing for me. So he takes my small original and blows it up, so that
it has left a painterly quality to it. But that can also be achieved by
the brush stencil technique. whereas the cut stencil technique comes out
sharp and clear like that.
- GALM
- Do you have any of the--this is not watercolor here, is it?
- CORITA
- No.
- GALM
- Do you have any of the ones that were based on watercolor?
- CORITA
- Yes, I think we have some in here that are done. Maybe, Glady, those
two. One is a print, and one is a watercolor. This is a watercolor
[untitled] from which a print could be made, except that the shading
would not show: they would turn out as solid colors. And I'll show you
one in which — that's right. [Bird of the
Rainbow] Now, this was a painting that I had done as a watercolor.
And then I had a print made from it. And you can see the difference,
that the gradation of colors is missing. In some cases it gets a little
heavier because the camera picks up just the very strong things and
tends to drop out the weaker. So it really becomes different because
it's a different medium. But if I feel that it's going to work all
right, I can use it. And let's see. Now, this is one made from a
photograph with a screen as you use to reproduce photographs and then
simply printed with a silk screen. [Growing]
- GALM
- Is it one of your own photographs?
- CORITA
- Yes. And this is one of the brushier-looking ones. [Rainbow]
- GALM
- Let's see, when was that done? About the nineteen- seventies or ... ?
- CORITA
- This was one of the seventies, I think, yes.
- GALM
- Now, you were saying that you've sort of gone out of this. This would be
in your rainbow series?
- CORITA
- That's right.
- GALM
- And you sort of moved away from that somewhat?
- CORITA
- Yes. In fact the new ones, which I have over here-- now, these are the
brand-new ones, just four of the set which I'll have in the show Sunday.
And as you can see-- well, the camera can't see, but ....
- GALM
- The camera can't see. What are they?
- CORITA
- We can see that this [Our Original Nature : shell
writing #7] is a lavender and a gray, which is very different
from this, which is the straight rainbow array of colors, the very vivid
primaries. So these are much subtler in color, closer in value.
- GALM
- Now are these again making use of photographs?
- CORITA
- Yes. These four, and about three or four of the other new ones, are done
from photographs of shells. In fact, this one [Now Is
Enough : shell writing #8] is done from a shell which is about,
oh, I would say, three-eighths of an inch big, and then just simply
blown up, so that it has a rather monumental quality. This one [Our Original Nature] has an even more monumental
quality, I think. It could be the picture of the moon or the world, or
some other planet — or, as it was, a small shell. That was probably
about an inch-large shell. And then these two are sections from a shell.
[I Am the Sacred Words of the Earth : shell
writing #3; You Are Alive : shell writing
#4] I don't think that in any of them you would know that they were
shells, because they're sections of them. But I was fascinated by the
design on them and thought they would make good prints. And I call them
shell writings. This is my writing; this is the shell writing.
- GALM
- I see. How many are in the series?
- CORITA
- There are about six or eight, I think.
- GALM
- You've always, of course, incorporated your own writing on almost every
one, haven't you, in some way?
- CORITA
- Except for the ones when I was using the magazine words or the billboard
letters, yes. And then, as in the case with the "magical friend," of
different kinds of script, of printing. [You Can Never
Lose Me]
- GALM
- Why do you like to use your own writing, other than it being, of course,
the most intimate expression of yourself, personal expression?
- CORITA
- Well, I really think of the writing as drawing. I think I have stayed
away from the figurative work lately because I think somehow we haven't
been able to find a figurative manner that works in our own time. Or at
least I can't find one that I'm comfortable with. And I feel that
letters are objects, just like fruit and people and roads and cars; so
that I'm just drawing the words.
- GALM
- Do you ever purposely slow down the viewer, so that they will actually
read what you've chosen?
- CORITA
- Well, this has been one of the nice by-products, I think. I don't think
I intended it that way in the first place because I think when I'm
writing the words, I am some- what conscious of the legibility. That is,
if I know it really can't be read, I'll go back and change a word. But
if it's just slightly difficult, I think that's okay — if it looks good.
So that those things, I suppose, are of equal concern — that it look
good, and that it be legible, at least with some work. But I don't try
to make it difficult.
- GALM
- I think there is quite a difference in color, too, in your latest ones.
- CORITA
- Very different, yes. These are very muted colors. And those are very
bright.
- GALM
- Do you have any from the Vietnam days?
- CORITA
- Yes. This one [Stop the Bombing] was one based on
a poem written by Gerald Huckaby, with whom I did a book [City , Uncity] at one time; and again, these are
words probably taken from a newspaper or magazine and photographed on a
curve, with the words of the poem written smaller. And then there were a
couple here, this--the two Berrigans burning the draft cards, with the
beautiful statement which Thoreau made about--what does he say? "Under a
government which imprisons unjustly, the true place for a just man is
also in prison." [Phil and Dan] And another —
this is a kind of interesting print, which I just noticed this morning
in looking through these. [Love at the End] This
section in here, without the little square, was a book cover I did for
one of Dan Berrigan's books [Love, Love at the
End] ; and then later we got the idea, when I was working with the
people at Botolph, of using just the heart and the word as a greeting
card. And then this year, I've taken that design and blown it up into a
serigraph. [Yes]
- GALM
- I believe that's the one on the front door that we saw.
- CORITA
- The one on the front door, right. So it's had an interesting history.
- GALM
- Talking about the gallery itself, when did you put up the sign [the
large "Corita" signature] out front? When did you have that done?
- CORITA
- I think that must be about three years old by now.
1.6. TAPE NUMBER: III, SIDE TWO APRIL 20, 1976 [video session cont'd]
- GALM
- And when was that? Was that used before, somewhere else?
- CORITA
- No, that was just a plain unused fence. And we just took a signature and
had a sign painter blow it up.
- GALM
- It's very dramatic.
- CORITA
- People were having a hard time finding us, for one thing. They would get
lost in the neighborhood. So we thought that would be a help to them to
find us.
- GALM
- I think it's curious that when we came today--I had been here, of
course, before--and this morning, when I arrived, there was all kinds of
graffiti on the walls, on the building surrounding the fence, but
nothing on the fence itself.
- CORITA
- Yes, we were grateful for that.
- GALM
- Sacred property or something.
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- Why don't we look at something from the circus series? Do you have
something from there, like The Greatest Show of
Worth?
- CORITA
- Yes, we have The Greatest Show.
- GALM
- Does that come in two sections?
- CORITA
- Yes, in fact these are two letters. It was the summer of '68- '69 that I
did--maybe if you hold that one. I'll hold this one--I did two
alphabets, one of them with the circus letters and the circus theme. And
this was for the G and that was for the O. Put them together, it reads "GO."
- GALM
- Oh, I see. [laughter]
- CORITA
- And they were meant to be used separately, if anybody wanted to. I felt
they worked as single prints, and yet, at the same time, they could be
put together and used as a big print. And then that same summer, I did
the International Signal Code flags and worked designs in with them.
That's the O of the Signal Code. [O my God ]
- GALM
- How many are in that series?
- CORITA
- There are twenty-seven. I think there are more, because they have other
words that they have, but I just did the twenty-seven. And then these
worked into the circus book. We just simply reproduced them into the
book that Holt published [Damn Everything but the
Circus] .
- GALM
- Is the Love series one of the more popular prints that you've done?
- CORITA
- Well, I think Love is always a very popular ....
- GALM
- Or don't you even think of one being more popular than the other?
- CORITA
- Or one being more loved than the other, yes.
- GALM
- Okay. Why don't we sit down and talk about a few other things
surrounding your life, or as part of your life? This interview, of
course, is being done as part of the series that we're doing at UCLA on
the Los Angeles art community. And you've mentioned some of the
individuals. You've mentioned Charles Eames and the role that he played
in your life and really within the art department as a visitor at
Immaculate Heart. Were there any other artists in the Los Angeles area
that you knew well?
- CORITA
- It's hard for me to distinguish, because the first person who came to my
mind was Buckminster Fuller. I think we were never too choosy about
whether people were artists or just people with ideas. So we kind of
sought out the people with ideas and principles and made our association
with them, rather than just finding artists.
- GALM
- Did you interact at all with, say, other art departments in the area, or
wasn't it really necessary?
- CORITA
- No, we really didn't. We would try to. We would take the students out to
different exhibits and galleries. And of course many, many times, we'd
go to UCLA or USC for shows, because they put on some very good shows.
But outside of that, we didn't really work with any other art
departments.
- GALM
- Was there an art community?
- CORITA
- A student art community?
- GALM
- No, no. A practicing artist that you really . . . ?
- CORITA
- Well, in the fifties, when I first started exhibiting prints, we met a
lot of the printmakers who were in the same shows. We traded prints and
got to know some of them. I'm trying to think and see if I can remember
some of the names. They don't come to me now. But we were associated
more with printmakers, I think, than with painters.
- GALM
- Were there any particular galleries that you followed religiously, their
shows?
- CORITA
- Well, of course, when La Cienega started, we found that, and the County
Museum was always a favorite. I'm trying to think of the name of the
gallery out on Sunset, which was really the first gallery that brought
the New York work to L.A. quickly. I don't remember the name of that.
- GALM
- I don't think it's the Ferus gallery, is it? That would be later; that
was on La Cienega.
- CORITA
- Was that on La Cienega? Was it originally on Sunset?
- GALM
- Possibly.
- CORITA
- Yes, it could have been, could have been.
- GALM
- Well, in our other interviews, we sort of brought you up to the point at
which you left for Boston, but we really never talked too much about
your decision to leave. How did the decision within the community itself
to form a lay community affect your decision?
- CORITA
- Well, actually that decision was made after I left.
- GALM
- So that didn't apply at all.
- CORITA
- By about two years. No.
- GALM
- Did you participate at all in the general chapter of [the Sisters of the
Immaculate Heart of Mary]?
- CORITA
- Yes, yes. I was at the chapters the two summers before I left, in which
the changes certainly began. I suppose those were really the two
important ones which were the turning point of the community.
- GALM
- Were you one of the delegates, then?
- CORITA
- Yes, yes.
- GALM
- At that point, when you established, as a result of the chapters — are
they called decrees of renewal?
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- Did you feel that it would run into the problems that they eventually
did?
- CORITA
- Well, I think that it was a funny situation, a rather unique situation,
because I think we were used to being in trouble, you know, in many
ways. I think especially in the art department we were, both because
some of the alumni who were more conservative and were nervous about any
kind of change were nervous about us as we changed-- and I think, as
long as we kept alive, we keep changing--and then [also because] the
community at large, I think, was somewhat nervous because the I.H.M.'s
were doing things that they thought hadn't been done before. Actually, I
think many of the things that the I.H. community was doing had already
been done by other communities in the East or in the Midwest. But it
depends so much on the attitude of the hierarchy in the different areas.
If the top man is a progressive person, then the changes come much more
gradually and gently. But in the Los Angeles situation, there was an
extreme rigidity on the part of the hierarchy. So that what should have
been very normal growing — organic changes were not allowed to be
organic because everything that changed created such a big sensation
that it blew it out of proportion. So that that was unfortunate,
especially for the people outside the community who didn't quite
understand what all the fuss was about, or why we made such a big fuss —
for example, why we were so insistent about changing the habit or not
wearing the habit, whereas that didn't seem a very big thing to them
(they thought we should just continue wearing it) . But we began to feel
that it was a long overdue change, and that this separated us from the
people we were working with, and that it also had something to do in
sort of allowing the people in the community to be individuals. Like any
kind of uniform, it had serious drawbacks. And I think as we became more
and more alerted to the drawbacks, we thought it was normal to change.
But the people who were more conservative — I think they often feel that
one little change is going to lead to many others (and they're certainly
right). I think that's why they're so frightened by little changes.
- GALM
- Where did they really feel that you were going? What was the real danger
that they saw, or was it an unknown danger?
- CORITA
- Well, I think it was the unknown, largely, because the nuns had always
looked like this. And I think that one of the very serious reasons for
our being so insistent on the habit was that people, for the most part,
or many people — I'm not talking about the people who are able to carry
themselves--but many people sort of had their religion in us. And when
we changed, it was almost as if their religion was changing. Which is a
very sad commentary on their religion, you know, if the mode of dress —
which, as we know, has always changed through the centuries — would mean
that much to them, would become that big an issue. It was really a
nonissue.
- GALM
- Yes. Did Immaculate Heart lose much support from its alumni as a result
of the change?
- CORITA
- I don't know. We've never had, especially in the past, much financial
support from the alumni, mostly because the people who went to school
were not that wealthy or their husbands graduated from other schools,
which made it difficult. [laughter] But I think the alumni support has
increased within the last few years.
- GALM
- Was the community surprised by the action that Rome took on the decrees?
- CORITA
- I think by the time they were actually out, we knew there would be
difficulty. We had hopes that they would see what was happening as an
organic movement. And I think, perhaps again, if we had had a different
hierarchy, Rome might have heard a different story.
- GALM
- But you, of course, had anticipated that you wouldn't be getting strong
support.
- CORITA
- Or strong approval. We never expected strong support.
- GALM
- From the local hierarchy. But possibly that Rome might go along with
you?
- CORITA
- Yes.
- GALM
- Well, I know that in one of the issues of the alumni news [Alumnae on the Move, Spring 1968] , there was an
article which really explained the community's position. And the
position that it seemed to delineate was that a nun was also a woman.
["We'll Admit It: A Nun Is a Woman"]
- CORITA
- Right.
- GALM
- When did that start opening up within the community, the sort of almost
a tie-in with the feminist movement, but probably at a different level?
- CORITA
- Well, I think in history, there comes a time for things, and then they
pop up in different areas, without the different areas being aware that
the other is doing the same things. And I think that this was one of
those cases where the time had come when people were beginning to pay
much more attention to the fact of individuality. Of course, the rules
of the communities were written by men originally, and they had been
followed for so many centuries. And I think the longer things aren't
done, the harder it is to change them. So I think a great many of us
went along being very concerned with the work we were doing, teaching
and so forth, and were not as concerned with ourselves as people until
we began to realize, along with everybody else, that what happened to
the individual is largely what happens to the community; and that if the
individual is developed to her fullest extent, that can only be good for
the other people that she's working with or for. But I think that's a
new concept — say, since Jung and Freud and the people who first began
to see that individual problems meant that the people were individual.
- GALM
- It must have been a difficult decision to make — to leave.
- CORITA
- For me to leave?
- GALM
- The community. Or again, was it maybe a decision that made itself?
- CORITA
- Well, in a way, I suppose when I left that summer, it was only for the
summer. And then when I got back East and was all quiet and peaceful, it
just seemed that it wasn't possible to go back. So in a sense, I made
the decision after I had gotten out, or after I had gone away. And I
think the decision was then made in the years that followed, rather than
the years that preceded, with a lot of the thinking. Because I had never
thought of leaving up till that point, so I wasn't having any difficulty
with the thought. But after I left, I looked back. And I've never had
any regrets about leaving, even though there have been difficulties.
- GALM
- What have been some of those difficulties?
- CORITA
- Well, I think the idea of living alone for the first time in my life.
I'd grown up in a big family and had always been with a large group of
people. Of course, in the community there were 500 or 600. And in the
house I lived for about fifteen years, there were about 110 people. So I
was accustomed to having a lot of stimulating people around me.
- GALM
- Are there new joys that come with it?
- CORITA
- Certainly.
- GALM
- What are those?
- CORITA
- Well, I think a calmer life, and a chance for more inner development,
which I think is not only different but also normal for a person. As you
know, as you finish the extreme active part of your life, the part that
is outward, you tend then to want to develop what hasn't had a chance
yet. And I think I'm having that chance to develop more inwardly than I
had before.