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Fools Give You Reasons, Wise Men Never Try

There is something horrible about Shingles, but there is something even worse about lying in misery and contemplating unemployment after working your tail off for the past two years. We had purchased a second home to get closer to my job, not having had the option to take the time off and completely move; I was faced with an endless parade of deadlines at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center.

I had never been let go from any position before and my husband and I were worried about making two house payments, our oldest child in college, and no longer having my own business. I would re-enter the work place with nothing, not even a list of my accomplishments for the past two years as my name was being systematically erased from all of my contributions other than the lodge room painting.

On July 7, 2016, at 10:00AM, I walked into the CEO’s office for my scheduled meeting. He was sitting behind his desk with the head of Human Resources sitting across from him, notebook in one hand and pen in the other.

With his hands folded, the CEO gestured for me to sit. He smiled and said, “Well, I never like to draw these things out. I’m letting you go.”

“Why?” I asked. “Does it matter?” he responded.

“Well, I would like to have a reason,” I insisted, “as people will ask why I am no longer working here and I would like to be able to give them the reason.”

The CEO chuckled, “It really doesn’t matter, I simply eliminating your position.”

“What explanation can I give people when they ask why I am no longer the Curatorial Director at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center?”

“Just tell them that we don’t need any of the skills that you have to offer anymore.”

I was shocked at his rationale. “In your time of need,” I continued, “I dropped everything to help the Freemasons of Minnesota during the planning and construction of this entire building – subsequently closing my business.”

“Well no one told you to do that!” he interjected.

“I was devoting every minute that I had to this project and simply couldn’t accept any other business, even postponing existing contracts indefinitely. Furthermore, you offered me a staff position, not a temporary role until the center opened. I moved to the cities to help the Freemasons of Minnesota in their time of need. It is only fair that they help me get back on my feet now.” We agreed to the terms and conditions of my termination.

The following week, I received my official letter eliminating my position, solely signed by the CEO; it did not include any of termination conditions we discussed. I shouted to my husband in the other room,” You won’t believe this! He couldn’t even be honest about letting me go!”

My husband frowned while reading the letter and then said, “But he can’t do that!”

“Well, apparently he can,” I answered. My only option was to leave with my head high, not make a ruckus, and try to forget what had turned into a nightmare job. Something would come up; it always does. However, I might need a break from the Fraternity, especially Freemasonry in Minnesota.

To be continued…

A Final Visit to Scenery Storage

On Monday, June 27, 2016, I visited the Fort Scott scenery storage unit in Bloomington, Minnesota. Little did I know at the time, but this would be the last moment that I would see the collection until after it was hanging in the Ives Auditorium. The restoration start date was currently on hold, waiting for some final construction delays in the theatre space.

After the Grand Opening, my new task was to take stock of the rolled scenery tubes and battens, verifying where the Ready Labor crew had placed them during November 2015. I would create a document noting the placement of each tube and the batten locations for future reference. My mural painting assistant was there to help shift any scenery due to my back injury. We stopped by the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center for her to run in and get the keys from the general director, as he had forgotten to pass along the three storage unit keys at the opening.

While visiting the storage unit that Monday, I noticed an extremely sore area on my upper shoulder; this was in addition to a swollen eyelid and low-grade fever that had instantaneously appeared the day before. I felt absolutely miserable while opening up the doors at the storage unit.  Upon inspecting the tubes, we noted Asian spotted beetles throughout the space, little dots of black piled up in corners and scattered across the muslin covers. This was not a good sign.

About the time that we noticed the bugs, a fellow scenic artist stopped by. She was visiting the Twin Cities, but had been unable to attend the grand opening. I suggested that she stop by the storage unit while I was working. I wanted her to meet my painting assistant and see the entirety of the Fort Scott collection, neatly tucked away into my custom-designed storage system.

As my shoulder pain continued to worsen, I asked my friend to see if had she noticed a bug bite or sting mark. “I would have a doctor look at this soon,” she suggested, “it looks pretty bad.” I agreed with her, saying, “We can always finish this later as the restoration start date isn’t even scheduled yet,” and sent them both on their way.

I was diagnosed with Shingles. Finally my stress had manifested into a physical condition; I was a prime candidate and the doctor pointed that out. “You have got to slow down,” she said, “Just go home and take some time off from work. I know that this prescription is often given to those over 50, but we might have caught it early enough for it to really work on you. ” I was flabbergasted with her diagnosis and picked up my prescription. “Really!?!” I told my husband, “On top of everything else, I need to get Shingles now?”

The final series of betrayals I experienced at the grand opening of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center had crushed my last my spirit and any hope that it would be a world-class research facility. It also suppressed any lingering enthusiasm for to work for the CEO or on the Fort Scott restoration project. I honestly knew that it was just a matter of time before I was let go and would never touch Thomas Moses’ paintings again; the future of the scenery collection was no longer in my hands.

The next day, I cancelled my afternoon appointment with the CEO emailing, “I will not be in today due to illness. Yesterday, I developed a fever and rash on my right eyelid and right shoulder. Today, I was diagnosed with Shingles and placed on a prescription for Acyclovir. I have scheduled a follow-up appointment for this Thursday afternoon as [my doctor] was concerned with the possible complications for my vision. I will keep you posted regarding my recovery and return to work.”

Two days later on June 30 at 8:35AM, the CEO responded to my email, inquiring about a possible date for a future meeting, “I hope you are recovering from your bout with shingles. I would like to meet with you in my office on Thursday, July 7 at 10 am.  Will you be able to meet at that time?”

To be continued…

It’s the CEO’s Way or the Highway

 There were two different ways to restore the Fort Scott scenery collection: My Way and the CEO’s Way.

My way divided the entire scenery restoration into phases, creating a training ground for young artisans while simultaneously restoring the historical scenery and preserving it for future generations. I estimated that it would take two years to restore the entire collection onsite, using this opportunity as both public relations for Minnesota Freemasonry and an international destination for restoration training.

As previously noted, I was adamant that the scenery be restored onsite and immediately hung as the condition of restored scenery deteriorates if excessively handled after cleaning, stabilization and repair; this is why I insist on onsite restoration projects and not restoring scenery in the convenience of my own Minnesota Studio. Transporting restored scenery harms the painted surface, creating wrinkles and other apparent damage to the stabilized areas. Furthermore, once the painting is restored, the original top wooden battens are installed, the drop hung, and then the bottom battens are attached. The bottom battens are attached last, after the drop is hanging, to pull out any remaining wrinkles and make the drop appear as if it were brand new.

The CEO’s way to restore the Fort Scott scenery collection was to move the drops from the Bloomington storage facility to a warehouse offsite, restore numerous scenes, transport them to the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center and quickly hang as many as possible. Additionally, he was adamant that attaching wooden battens was too time-consuming and an alternative should be found for the installation.

My experience of restoring over five hundred scenes demonstrated that there were no short cuts during a restoration project. Restoration on the cheap and quickly done, results in the destruction of entire collections. He would have to locate a group of individuals to hang the historic scenery “his way” as I refused to compromise the artworks of Thomas Gibbs Moses.

Enter the museum team of Mia Schillace-Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services Founder), Paul Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services Construction Lead) and their freelance exhibit artist “Kimber” Lawler.  I first encountered Lawler in the early 1990s. Our paths haven’t crossed at all in the past two decades as my primary focus is historical scenery, restoration, and replication; hers is not.

She was working for Outhouse Exhibit services on the Ladd Museum exhibit at the same time I was working on the lodge room painting. Schillace-Nelson had brought Lawler over one day in late-April to say “hi” under the pretext of an opportunity for us to reconnect after two decades. At the time, they were both were extremely interested in my background of restoring Scottish Rite scenery. They inquired after the techniques that I had developed throughout the course of my career.

As usual, I was delighted to share information about the materials and the various techniques. I love describing the restoration process as many individuals are unfamiliar with the dry pigment paint system, archival cleaning products, and the restoration variables.

Remember, by this point, I had estimated the materials and labor expenses for the entire Fort Scott scenery restoration, emailed lists of supplies for the general director to order, and identified the entire crew – one that was still on hold and waiting for a definitive start date.

When they asked how I restored the scenery, I wish that they had taken notes for the sake of the Fort Scott collection.

To be continued…

Another One Bites the Dust

I tried to leave sorrows behind me when I left the building at the Grand Opening of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, understanding the significance of having been the only staff member who had not received a name tag. I wondered when I would get called into the CEO’s office for the termination of my employment. That weekend, I reflected on the Grand opening, and looked at the ceremonial program and museum program. I didn’t even want to share these with my children or parents. I was being officially erased from the center’s history.

I hadn’t connected all dots since my return from Fort Scott last December 2015. It was crystal clear now and I felt like an idiot. What were the CEO’s future plans and what was he intending to do with the Fort Scott scenery? Then realization dawned. That’s why he delayed the scenery restoration too; he was looking for someone else to restore the scenes and finally found someone else to do it.

I recalled a meeting early that spring where I was discussing the selection and hiring of individuals for the restoration crew. At that time, the CEO asked why I couldn’t just train in a crew to restore the collection and walk away to do other things. “It’s not that easy,” I responded, “Every drop is different. There is not set way to restore every single scene.” I then went on to explain that each drop had developed a unique shape and overall condition throughout the course of its life. The fabric would stretch in odd ways, the binding could break down, the paint could loose its vibrancy, or many other things would alter the restoration process.

Furthermore, there was the netting dilemma. All of the theatrical suppliers in the United States purchased from the same looms. The netting that we now buy is nothing like what was used a century ago. The knots slip and have to be hand-checked prior to gluing to the cut center. If the slipping knots are not sewn to prevent movement, the entire scene can sag over the course of a few months. “THAT is a nightmare,” I exclaimed, “but it only ever happened once; I learned my lesson.”

I was in the middle of two restoration jobs – Santa Fe and St. Paul during 2002. When I returned to St. Paul after doing a phase in Santa Fe, the entire treasure scene cut drop was sagging. The netting reminded me of silly putty. We had to re-net the entire scene, much to the detriment of the painted surface. I realized that it was the slipping knots. From that point on, I hand checked every single knotted intersection over yards and yards of netting. It is time consuming – but crucial to the restoration process. It’s not a problem for new scenery as there isn’t a single contemporary production that hangs for several decades.

On top of that, I expanded, there is a specific way to stretch the netting on a historic drop and it is not like stretching netting on a new piece of fabric; you have to gauge the thickness, the weave, the age – it’s hard. If you stretch it too tight, the painted surround puckers. If you don’t stretch it enough, the center sags.

Both the CEO and general director knowingly nodded at my description. “Well how do all the other restoration companies handle this problem?” they general director asked.

“Good luck finding another one,” I responded. “Most studios recommend replicas.” I explained that I was one of only two professionals specifically specializing in scenery restoration. I knew of only one other individual in the United States who was also a friend, Chris Hadsel, She specialized in small roll drops for Grange Halls or northeastern United States public halls. This was radically different that the dozens of counterweighted drops in Scottish Rite theatres that were my specialty.

“Look, “ I went on, “When Masons contact scenery companies or paint studios, the company representatives often explain that the drops are too far gone – the fabric is dry rotted. They offer to do a replica instead, but the composition NEVER looks the same as it is a different style of painting and paint medium.” I went on to give my standard speech explaining that exact replicas for these historical scenes are impossible due to the scarcity of dye and dry pigment colors, in addition to the rarity of artists well-versed in historical painting techniques. Contemporary scene painting methodology and paint application will never carry the same fluidity of motion, economy of brush stroke, or technical manner in which the original backdrops were painted; lacking the original artist’s sheer experience of working solely with the dry pigment paint system for his entire career.

A close approximation of the composition and painting techniques may be produced with certain accuracy, yet the technical expertise of contemporary scenic artists cannot compare with their predecessors. Contemporary scenic artists, no matter what their skill level or education, fail to deliver a product similar to scenic artists from the 1870s-1940s. Scenic artists often painted scenery 10-12 hours a day, six days a week, for 40-60 years. Their expertise is unequaled.

“Furthermore,” I went on to say, “This is why many scenic studios are unfamiliar with dry pigment painting to do a proper restoration. They recommend a painted replica, explaining that it will be cheaper than restoring the original.” I ended with, “If scenery restoration were cheap and easy, every Scottish Rite theatre across the country would have a restored scenery collection.”

“Can you replicate these historic scenes? “ the CEO asked. My first thought was, “What?!?” Then I promptly responded, “Of course I can, but even I don’t have the same experience as the original scenic artists.”

“You mean we could have painted new drops instead of restoring old ones?” The CEO insisted. Everything stopped. “Oh my God,” I thought, “he just missed the whole point of my conversation; furthermore, he has no idea that I am an accomplished scenic artist.”

I took a deep breath and calmly said, “Look, the whole point of designing a space to accommodate historic scenery is to have the paintings of Thomas G. Moses on display and not those of a contemporary scenic artist. We want to hang fraternal heritage for future generations to appreciate, not make a copy.”

I went back to my office where Jean Montgomery was working in the library. “I can’t believe it!” I shouted to down to the basement from the top of the stairs. Descending, I continued my rage, “They are looking for someone else to restore the scenery and they think I’m too stupid to realize it!”

I sat on the bottom step peering through the railing and said, “They actually think that there are a whole slew of people doing scenery restoration.” Then I sat up a grinned, “ Well, they’re going to have a hard time finding someone who knows what they’re actually doing.”

“Ya think?” Jean responded.

To be continued…

Rewriting History

Two for one day today as Grand Lodge is tomorrow! This is a long installment that I simply didn’t want to divide into two parts.

When I left for the Fort Scott on November 1, 2015, the six galleries for the Ladd Museum and majority of text panels were both finalized and approved. There were only a few museum meetings left and they were to focus primarily on some small details and the interactive exhibits. The museum team needed these meetings to end so that they could create and submit their final proposal; one that would include all the estimated expenses associated for the opening exhibit on June 24, 2016. The date that decisions had to be finalized was December 1, 2015. Until that time, the museum team remained on retainer as the scope of the project had yet to be finalized or agreed upon by both parties.

Jump ahead to March 16, 2016, when the part-time curator for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center emails me: “The objects planned for the exhibit galleries has changed pretty drastically and I have been spending all of my time cataloging the newly selected artifacts and developing new object lists for Mia and the preparators [sic].” Remember, the grand opening was June 24, 2016 – just two months away.

It is essential to understand the timeline for the initial exhibit design, artifact selection, thematic layout, and museum committee meetings from November 2014 until November 2015 in order to understand how continued changes jeopardized the entire endeavor and final deliverables.

When I was first hired as the historical consultant August 1, 2014, the CEO shared his dislike for all of the visuals that the museum team had presented to date during both the task force meetings and subsequent board of directors meetings. In November 2014, the CEO directed me to meet with Joel Woodward (Woodward Design) and Mia Schillace-Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services) to determine whether he should continue to retain their services or seek their replacement.

If we really needed to replace them, I needed to someone else to recommend for the design as we could not start a search from scratch. Therefore, I called Rick Polenek to see if he was available to work on the project, explaining my directive from the CEO. Rick was the designer for the 1996 touring exhibit “Theatre of the Fraternity: Staging the Sacred Space of the Scottish Rite, 1896-1929” and is a brilliant designer for a variety of venues, plus he was familiar with Masonic artifacts – a must.

However, during my meeting with the museum team, they explained that no one was providing any information about Freemasonry and they were solely “shooting in the dark.” It was at that point that I weighed all of my options and their enthusiasm, deciding to recommend that the CEO keep them on board, even though it would mean holding their hand throughout the entire process and assuming the role of Exhibit Curator myself. According to Schillace-Nelson, they were rapidly running out of time to design and build a six-gallery exhibit for a June 2016 opening.

By January 2015, I was working extensively as Exhibit Curator, creating timelines, mission statements, artifacts surveys, and thematic flow charts for each gallery. Schillace-Nelson and I spent long hours examining the entire Minnesota Masonic Historical Society and Museum collection; identifying potential exhibit artifacts, selecting and setting up a “staging area” for exhibit galleries, and recommending certain pieces for outside conservation work. Schillace-Nelson could not accomplish this work alone, nor select any appropriate artifacts as she was unfamiliar with Masonic memorabilia and the various fraternal organizations.

As previously posted in installment #40, I flew to Washington D.C. during February with the CEO, general director, and a local Scottish Rite Mason to present our project and select a Masonic Scholar to research and write all of the exhibit texts and object labels.

In April and May 2015, I wrote extensive thematic layouts for each gallery, identifying every item within a gallery and pairing objects together in specific areas.

Other than myself, our assembled museum team included Art De Hoyos (Masonic scholar for national and international content), Brent Morris (Masonic scholar for national and international content), Mark Campbell (Masonic scholar for local content), Terry Tilton (Masonic scholar for anti-Masonic sentiment area), Mia Schillace-Nelson (Exhibit Construction), Joel Woodward (Exhibit Designer), Steve Johnson (Exhibiit Video), MMC Director of Communications (Script writer for videos and in-house museum text editor), the general director, and the CEO. I also intended to have one non-Masonic scholar who could look at the exhibit with fresh eyes as Campbell had recommended Janet Wolter, unfortunately she was never brought on board.

In June, July and August of 2015, I headed all of the weekly museum meetings. These “Museum Roundtable” meetings included a conference call for those unable to journey to Bloomington every week. At every meeting went over my artifact recommendations and thematic layouts for each gallery. My documents were posted to a website where all of the committee could view gallery information, objects, floor plans and graphic designs. After the meeting, I would condense the notes and include my minutes, emailing Schillace-Nelson for her to distribute my corrected documents. Our exhibit designer Woodward created a website to distribute and update information; it still appears to be up and running at http://www.theladdmuseum.com/index.php.

After each gallery was approved, Woodward would then start to design the physical layout and stylistic appearance of each exhibit space to place objects in their specific topic area. Similarly, I would selected individual authors to write text panels and object labels, based on their past research and specialty.

By September 2015, the entire museum team gathered together in Bloomington for a final meeting; there, we would all read and edit the text written by De Hoyos, Morris, Campbell, and Tilton. During that same visit, De Hoyos and Morris would also examine all objects so that they could start writing each object for Gallery 1 (History of Freemasonry), Gallery 3 (The Fanciful History of Freemasonry) and Gallery 6 (Extensions of Freemasonry). Tilton would write both the text panel and object labels for anti-masonic sentiment, whereas Campbell would write the object labels for Gallery 2 (History of Freemasonry in Minnesota) and Gallery 5 (Minnesota Masonic Charities). Johnson and Johns would assist Campbell with additional content for the Minnesota Masonic Charities gallery. Unfortunately, it was evident that the quality of writing among the scholars greatly varied. We asked our in-house editor to rewrite the text of Tilton and Campbell, attempting to unify their work with De Hoyos and Morris. To the group we announced that our in-house editor would “tweak everyone’s writing for uniformity” to avoid any hurt feelings.

Jump ahead to November 2, 2015. This was my first day working with the scenery in Fort Scott. This same week, the in-house text editor and CEO started to rearrange the placement of objects in various topic areas, even altering the written text by De Hoyos and Morris. The previously approved galleries began to change dramatically. For example, the Minnesota Masonic Charities Gallery swapped places with the Extensions of Freemasonry, putting it in the place of greatest prominence and ending the inclusion of a transitional space for touring exhibits.

By March and April of 2016, Schillace-Nelson and Campbell were still identifying new artifacts for the various galleries. I knew this, because Schillace-Nelson would stop by with daily updates, often parking her minivan in the driveway attached to my office/library processing facility due to continued construction.

It is crucial to note that the first “drop dead date” for artifact selection, text, and graphic images was June 1, 2015. The intent was so the production team could then estimate the expense with ample time remaining for construction. The museum team repeatedly explained, they needed an entire year to manufacture the exhibit. The June 1 deadline was then shifted to September 2015. After that, December 1, 2015; they didn’t meet that deadline either as the museum began the redesign process at that point. So when I entered the Ladd Museum on June 24, 2016, the exhibit appeared a mere shadow of its September 2015 vision; I was mortified for not only my sake but that of De Hoyos and Morris.

It was not until we left the building that my husband shared his indignation on my behalf; the museum brochure listed me as simply a historical consultant – nothing more. Furthermore he grew even more angry as he explained to Paul Jacob Roberts and myself, “And I counted seven – SEVEN – pictures of the CEO in the museum exhibit!” I shrugged and smiled at them both, “It might all be for the best as that exhibit is nothing that I had hoped it would be.” I simply couldn’t send the promised pictures of the museum to De Hoyos or the museum brochure that listed him simply as “historical consultant” and not a principle author for the exhibit text.

I then understood why neither Art De Hoyos nor Brent Morris had been invited to the Grand Opening; they would notice the substantial changes and possibly comment on them. There were only a few of us who notice the discrepancy between what had been approved in 2015 and what was actually built in 2016.

The story that I have told lives only in the minds of those who worked on the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center museum exhibit from 2014-2016. The museum’s history was re-written on June 8, 2016 and is available as a Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center link: http://www.masonicheritagecenter.org/2016/06/muscle-making-museum/

To be continued…

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover

Eventually, we made our way to the Ladd Museum and Nelson Library during the grand opening for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. The two staff members assigned to the space were wearing their new name tags. Both would become two of the three individuals to assume my responsibilities as Curatorial Director once my position was eliminated the next month. Theresa Norman had increased her position from an eight-hour-a-week freelance curator in the Minnesota Masonic Historical Society and Museum to Curator at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. I wondered if she had left her full-time position at the Scott Historical Society yet.

Smiling warmly as I congratulated Theresa on her the new position. She looked a little shocked and appeared very uncomfortable. I thought that her awkwardness might be from her continued insistence throughout the fall of 2014 and all of 2015 that she could never work for the Masons full-time, explaining, “They simply doesn’t understand how to run a museum!” She noted how the general director frequently offered her a full-time position, even after she repeatedly declined his offers.

Since the fall of 2014, I had helped Theresa navigate the maze of fraternal organizations, even creating pamphlets that would help her identify the correct Masonic order as she catalogued a variety of objects, such as officer jewels, tracing charts, aprons, and a sundry of other Masonic memorabilia. You see, Theresa was completely unfamiliar with Freemasonry, its emblems, symbolism, regalia and paraphernalia; heavily relying on her two octogenarian volunteers to verify the name, purpose, organization, and other informational details about various artifacts.

Over the past eighteen months, we had engaged in extensive discussions about the library’s impending need for a separate software system as books should not simply be entered as artifacts in the current Past Perfect database. She explained that all books, with the exception of handwritten records, should be de-accessioned and processed as part of the new Nelson library.

During March of 2016, I emailed Theresa to continue our discussion on the increased volume of incoming acquisitions and where we could store books prior to processing as she was desperate for additional space. Many of the new book donations were directly dropped off at my office as members understood it was the library processing facility, although a few continued to be deposited in the MMHSM museum.

Teresa responded in an email,

“A high majority of the ‘books’ on the tables inside the entrance to the basement storage room are Lodge records (minute ledgers, financial ledgers, etc.). There are also a fair number of Bibles but those will most likely not be added to the historical collection – I just haven’t had a chance to go through them yet. There are grocery boxes underneath the tables on the right side that are filled with books [the general director] brought downstairs last year that I thought were meant for the library and, if so, they can be removed from the workroom.

I think the discussion concerning storage of ciphers and handwritten rituals can wait until after the new museum opens. The objects planned for the exhibit galleries has changed pretty drastically and I have been spending all of my time cataloging the newly selected artifacts and developing new object lists for Mia and the preparators.

I hope this helps. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

Around the same time that this email was generated, a visitor stopped by my office after interviewing with the general director and Theresa for a new position at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. He was being hired to move the St. Paul Masonic Library from my office to the new facility and would directly report to Theresa. “But that makes no sense!” I exclaimed. “She only works eight hours a week and has been adamant that she wanted nothing to do with a full-time position or the incoming library.” It appeared fruitless to have someone supervise his handling of the books when she had never even seen the St. Paul Masonic Library contents.

I suggested to my visitor that Theresa must have finally agreed to a full-time position. Ironically, both the general director and CEO had asked my opinion earlier about her joining the MMHC staff. Obviously my suggestions had fallen on deaf ears; I insisted that it was imperative for the individual who would supervise the processing of Masonic artifacts be familiar with both Freemasonry and fraternal history. Theresa was not.

These same qualifications would apply to any future librarians who would process incoming books for the Nelson library.

We needed to find individuals like Heather Calloway  or Mark Allen Tabbert; scholars who deeply understood the Fraternity’s material culture.  Heather had worked at the House of the Temple in Washington for fourteen years and was now at George Washington College as their Archivist and Special Collections Librarian(https://www.washcoll.edu/live/profiles/8881-heather-k-calloway).  Mark Tabbert was Director of Collections at the George Washington Masonic Memorial (an.org/video/?297214-1/george-washington-masonic-memorial).

Those handling the artifacts at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center needed direction from someone with the ability to identify specific Masonic emblems and understand the purpose of each ceremonial object.

My visitor then explained that he would not start his new position until June 1. “Why?!?” I asked. Shocked, I continued, “There is so much to do and I honestly don’t see how you can familiarize yourself with the collection, pack it up, transport it, and organize it on the shelves in that limited time. How will it ever be accessible to future scholars? “

To be continued…

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…