The Foundation of the Fraternity
We had just exited the theatre when the graphic and exhibit designer, Joel Woodward, grabbed my hand and said, “Come here, come here!” He brought me to a spot near the entrance and faced me toward the stained glass window. “Look! Look at what we did!” he exclaimed. Then he began to recount all of our meetings when we redesigned the entire aesthetic for the building after the initial interior designer was let go – this was during January 2015. “Do you remember?” he said, shaking me by the shoulders, “All that time and everything we went through to get it just like this? It worked!!! The designs we made looked just like this!” I agreed, but still felt empty inside. However, I had a small feeling of relief; so Joel didn’t realize what was going on either.
I extracted myself from Joel’s grasp, wishing that I could truly enjoy the opening. Grabbing my husband’s hand, I asked, “Are you ready to see my painting in the lodge room?” He nodded and we went up the steps, passing the Col. James B. Ladd museum. “Want to go in?” he asked.
“No, not yet,” I responded, intending to save the worst for last. I knew that it was nothing like the approved designs from September 2015. Reflecting on all of my work to select the artifacts, construct the thematic content, and run the museum meetings, I didn’t want to see what it had morphed into under the CEO’s curatorial direction. It was the visit to that particular space that I was absolutely dreading – well, that and the library.
We slowly worked our way toward the lodge room and entered the space. My eyes were immediately drawn to the glowing blue of the ceiling and I cringed; I hated that graphic and the lighting made it look even worse. The neon blue gave the entire lodge room a foreign discotheque feel.
This ceiling graphic was the artistic vision of the CEO. He had selected the image and carefully guided Joel Woodward, our museum designer, to create the graphic. Joel had functioned as our digital interpreter for the entire project; the architects didn’t use the software that created the three-dimensional renderings. For the ceiling of the lodge room, the CEO wanted to replicate the painted one in Freemason’s Hall, London.
Unfortunately, square footage for the original ceiling was much smaller and surrounded by a gold and hand-painted décor. The CEO’s interpretation stretched this composition to over 40’ long in a barrel vault, surrounding it with white and cream coffers. This created an entirely different aesthetic. I had tried to add various trim colors to help blend the two aesthetics, but that much painted trim was deemed too expensive.
At only one point the CEO sought my opinion, asking, “So, what do you think of it?” It radically departed from the remainder of the entire complex and I knew that nothing I could say would change his decision anyway, so I focused on two small details: the shape of the stars and their color. At the time, I recommended five-pointed Egyptian stars and metallic paint, not just the flat color gold. The placement of metallic stars on a barrel vault facilitated a traditional scenic illusion. This would make it a little more historical and allow the ceiling to “sparkle” in low-light conditions or when members moved throughout the room. Against my advise, the CEO selected large white pentagrams.
This choice reminded me of Marvel Comics and Captain America. All we needed was a little man with a cape, a Masonic apron, and top hat shouting, “Seek the Light!” in a word bubble.
This ceiling design had appeared mid-way through my own mural designs, and it became increasingly difficult to blend the two compositions. This graphic cheapened the effect of an otherwise grand room. All of my historical research pointed toward romantic skies depicting the appropriate constellations and planets, laid out as Pike had specified in his Middle Chamber lecture.
I had struggled to integrate the mural aesthetic with this contemporary graphic one when a colleague asked, “Why are you trying to match ugly?” Then he smiled saying, “Just let the clash occur and people will realize why digital and hand painting are not one in the same.”
Upon entering the lodge room, I realized that my colleague had been right; there was no point in trying to match the ceiling aesthetic, especially with the current lighting.
I then gave a congratulatory hug to the man who, as it turns out, would replace me as one of three individuals take on the responsibilities of Curatorial Director position. He was the newly retired Scottish Rite Secretary, who had accepted a position at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, although neither he, nor the CEO would ever tell me what his actual job title was. I now know; he was my replacement as historical consultant for the center and their new Masonic scholar.
He first appeared to be the local Masonic scholar for the museum and replaced me to survey the existing inventory and weed through artifacts at the Minnesota Masonic Historical Society and Museum. When the museum exhibit was redesigned during my absence while at Fort Scott, this same individual had been approached to identify new artifacts for the galleries.
He had also explained to me that spring, he was really the best candidate to “interpret” the CEO’s vision for the Ladd museum, plus he had been involved in most of the significant Masonic events over the past few decades. I thanked him for all of his hard work on the project and left the room. That would be my theme for the night, thanking everyone for all of their hard work and showing my sincere appreciation.
Once the neon blue ceiling was out of site, I remembered a quote by a Masonic author who said,
“The genius of Freemasonry is not our Masonic buildings and temples or trappings of our organizations. It is not our great charities or community activities. It is not our beautiful rituals or their teachings. It is the ‘practice of Freemasonry’ by Freemasons. Yet we cannot practice that which we do not know or understand. Thus Masonic education is the foundation of our Fraternity.” (by Michael L. Wiggins)
That was it, I realized. This was what I had been battling since my return from Fort Scott; the CEO couldn’t practice what he did not understand.
To be continued…
