Hallowed Be Their Art

If only this were the 12th century and the new cathedral were No^tre Dame in Paris, it would be obvious whom to call about the art. In the Middle Ages, sculptors, painters, stained-glass window makers all were plentiful and could support themselves on church commissions. It’s not so easy in modern Los Angeles to find artists who can make images suitable for the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, which is rising at a frenetic pace next to the 101 freeway downtown.

Bridging the gap is Father Richard Vosko, who has been hired by the Archdiocese of Los Angeles to create a master art plan for the new cathedral and to commission artists to create some of the church’s fundamental liturgical elements. Such an unusual project requires very specialized credentials, and Vosko’s are both eclectic and rare--he holds advanced degrees in art and architecture, divinity and adult education, and he runs a business as a designer and consultant for sacred spaces in Albany, N.Y., where he is also a diocesan priest.

Vosko is somewhat reserved and low-key. Stepping out from among a crowd of workers at the construction site, he barely stirs the dust. Dressed in a dark sweater and slacks, he introduces himself minus titles. The people he works with have all picked up on it, referring to him as “Richard” or “Vosko” more often than “Father.”

But when he starts to talk about his master plan and the works-in-progress that fit into it, his vibrant energy is visible. Vosko is in the process of assembling an array of works, from bronze doors by Robert Graham, whose art for public spaces includes the Franklin Delano Roosevelt memorial in Washington, D.C., and sculptures for the Los Angeles Coliseum, to a waterfall and pool by Lita Albuquerque, an artist known for exploring spiritual themes, to a memorial to Native Americans by Johnny Bear Contreras. In a sign of how much times have changed since the early days of church architecture, one artist, John Nava, sends his designs for tapestries of the saints in e-mails from his L.A. studio to weavers in Belgium.

These artists were not selected for their connection with the Roman Catholic Church. Indeed, most of the nine commissioned to date say that although they consider themselves to be religious, or spiritual, they are not church-going. Some were raised Catholic, but that was not a requirement for the job. Vosko guides them with Scripture passages and books to read and regularly provides encouragement in e-mail messages and phone calls, and he makes studio visits during monthly trips here.

In an interview, Vosko frequently refers to the master plan he created to integrate the art with the architecture; he made it after a visit with architect Jose Rafael Moneo, whose commission to design the cathedral complex was announced in 1996. Soon after Moneo was named, Vosko visited the architect at his home in Madrid. Moneo, who made international news in 1996 when he won the Pritzker Architecture Prize, was already far along with his design for the massive, $163-million cathedral complex. “Professor Moneo and I both learned where the other was coming from,” says Vosko of their week of discussions. Vosko returned home and built a storyboard around a central theme.

“The first idea is of a procession, a pilgrimage,” he says. “It starts on the sidewalk outside the cathedral.” It ends at the altar. All of the artworks a person passes along the way relate to that image.

“Father Vosko pushed strongly for the pilgrimage theme,” says Father John Gallen, a professor of liturgy at the Jesuit seminary in New York who studies cathedrals. “The idea of men and women on a journey in search of fulfillment is very much part of modern life. People are looking for home base.”

The cathedral’s art component has not received much attention--yet. Even most people in the Los Angeles arts community don’t know much about it. Vosko’s bicoastal living and low-key style, along with the church’s commitment to confidentiality has kept the project out of the spotlight. Not that people aren’t interested.

“The style of the building speaks to our landscape, our history and tradition,” says Stephanie Barron, senior curator of modern and contemporary art at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

That artists don’t often have opportunities to work in religious contexts doesn’t mean they don’t want to. “There is a centuries-long tradition of remarkable art generated by commissions from the church,” Barron says. “Religious art hasn’t lost its potency.”

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It was not initially on the agenda that the commissions go to local artists. To find the artists commissioned so far, Vosko spent about a year looking at hundreds of portfolios from everywhere. “It is remarkable that we’ve been able to stay within the Los Angeles basin,” he says. “From the beginning, I was well aware of the very fine artists’ community in this area.”

Every decision is made by a committee of artists, collectors, clergy and major donors to the cathedral project, including Msgr. Kevin Kostelnik, the first pastor of the new cathedral, Sir Daniel Donohue, president of the Dan Murphy Foundation, who contributed $25 million for the cathedral, and artist Lalo Garcia, who has been commissioned to make an outdoor shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe for the complex.

The budget is $30 million and includes furnishings, such as the bishop’s chair, the lectern and the tabernacle. Cardinal Roger M. Mahony has been closely involved in the choices made, to the point that he helped design the red stone altar along with artisan Louie Carnevale.

Work proceeds as the money is available. Many of the works in Vosko’s master plan probably will not be commissioned for months or years. Sculptor Graham is designing the main door for the cathedral to be covered with symbols of God and godly attributes from cultures around the world. Albuquerque’s waterfall and pool for the cathedral’s courtyard consists of wedge-shaped stones, a wall of water, and a shallow pool, done in collaboration with architect Robert Kramer.

Like all the artists involved, Albuquerque was invited to submit her portfolio in a letter from Vosko, who warned her it would likely be months before she would hear back from him. From the beginning, she says, the idea felt right. “I grew up in a Catholic convent in North Africa. When we moved to the United States, I was shocked to see that sacred and secular spaces are separated. I’ve always wanted to reconnect them.”

The most specific guidance Albuquerque received came from Mahony. He gave her a selection of seven Scripture passages with instructions to use one of them as her theme. She chose a Gospel story about a Samaritan woman who met Jesus at a well. Jesus asked the woman for a drink of water. The words, “I am the living water,” from that passage will be written in 35 languages around the waterfall, all of which are spoken in local churches.

One of the most ambitious projects now underway is Nava’s set of 36 tapestries, each one 7 feet long and 20 feet high, which includes woven portraits of 133 saints. They will hang in the cathedral’s nave. A figurative painter inspired by the Old Masters, he re-created their way of working by posing models in costumes as Rembrandt did in 17th century Holland. A casting director helps him find the models because the saints in this procession are from every nook and cranny of the Earth.

“I wanted them to look like people we know, not like stylized saints,” Nava says. “Before I got this commission, I hadn’t thought a lot about the communion of saints. Now I see it as the core image of the faith. Redemption, hope and life.”

Nava had never worked with textiles before, but he has added some modern methods to the medium; instead of sending his drawings to the weavers by mail, Nava worked out a way to create digital files of the designs, which he e-mails directly to Flanders Tapestries in Bruges, Belgium.

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Something about Vosko inspires commitment. Nava has worked all but four days in the last 11 months; bronze sculptor Simon Toparovsky says he would not have made it through his presentation to the committee without Vosko. Toparovsky designs works for public parks and gardens, and also makes furniture and lighting with his business partner, Randy Frank.

Three years ago he received a letter from Vosko inviting him to submit a portfolio. Two and a half years later a second letter arrived, inviting him to make a proposal for a crucifix. Some months after that he was on his way to Milan on a business trip when he got called in to present his ideas to the committee, two days after his meeting in Italy.

“I had a minor nervous breakdown,” he says. He tried to postpone the meeting or send someone in his place. Vosko talked him out of it. “He said, ‘You, personally, have to do this. We need to understand where your heart is in this project.’ He was so encouraging. I called in every favor from every friend I have. I really wanted this commission.”

Once he got it, Toparovsky and Vosko talked again. This time, their conversation was visceral. “He asked how much information I have about the crucifixion,” says Toparovsky. “I said, not much. I told him I knew it best from years of studying art history.”

Vosko gave him a book, “A Doctor at Calvary” from 1953 by Pierre Barbet, a medical doctor. It describes the physical ordeal of the Roman-style crucifixion that Jesus experienced. “I went through many changes, reading that book,” say Toparovsky, who was struck by the book’s accounts of floggings and other ghastly details. “My crucifix will be evocative and expressive without being directly explicit,” he says.

Playing against type, the cathedral for the city of the angels won’t have many angels in it. Bronze sculptor M.L. (Mary Louise) Snowden made four, to gird the altar, as well as a frieze. When invited to create them, she questioned their extraterrestrial image. “Angels are pure energy,” she concluded. “Energy is the essence of the Earth.”

Snowden’s angels are 30 inches tall, posed in a crouching position to maximize their scale. “These angels could move mountains,” she says. “If an angel isn’t communicating something to us, they aren’t worth anything.”

One element in the master art plan is particularly unusual. A sculpture to honor Native Americans of this region was commissioned from Johnny Bear Contreras, of the Kumeyaay tribe, who lives on a reservation near San Diego. He is casting a work titled “The Spirit of the Earth” in bronze, depicting Native American signage and figures of animals from his culture’s myth of creation.

Contreras is a liaison for Native Americans who were involved in tribal discussions three years ago after they claimed the cathedral site should not be used because of its history as a sacred burial ground. Archeological research did not verify the claim.

Contreras says the invitation was a complete surprise. “I thought they had me come to the cardinal’s office because of the controversy,” Contreras says. “I started talking about all that, but the cardinal said, ‘No, we want to ask you about your art.’ ”

He went to the site and sprinkled sage leaves, an herb that is burned during prayer in Native American rituals to carry intentions to the creator. He went back to the tribes and described his meeting. “They were pleased,” he says. “They wanted some recognition.”

Such spiritual connections to this timeless project are endless, and many of the artists reflect on a desire to find ways to bring religion and art together more often. Nava, for one, wonders about this. “A sad fact of life in this century is that a painter’s mission is not related to the church,” he says. “But Los Angeles is showing itself to be an art patron.”