wfn.org | Restored cupola at Holy Sepulcher i

[ENS.parti@ecunet.org]

April 18, 1997
Episcopal News Service
Jim Solheim, Director
212-922-5385
ens@ecunet.org

97-1746
Restored cupola at Holy Sepulcher is work of Fresno artist

by David Hale
       It's a scenario that sounds so improbable it could only happen in a
movie with one of those Hollywood happy endings. But it's the real-life
adventure that A. F. "Corky" Normart has been living for three years.
       Imagine yourself as Normart, a native Fresnan [and a parishioner
of St. Columba's, Fresno] who has toiled in relative obscurity for 40
years in the advertising world, earning regional recognition as a
leisure-time painter and stained-glass artist. 
       Then imagine that out of the blue, you're selected--without
international competition--for a project of incomparable artistic and
religious significance. You're to complete the restoration of the cupola in
the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem, the holiest shrine in
Christendom, where tradition says Jesus was buried and rose from the
dead.
       The issue of how to decorate the central architectural feature of
the church rotunda, destroyed in the 1948 war and rebuilt, had been the
object of many years of conflict among the major denominations that
control the building. Patriarchs of the Greek Orthodox Church, the
Franciscans and the Armenian Apostolic Orthodox considered and
rejected countless designs submitted by artists.

A turning point
       But thanks to a remarkable combination of factors, Normart's
design won approval. How the project grew is the topic of an exhibit at
the Fresno Art Museum. In a lecture delivered at the museum, Normart
said he was just as surprised as anyone might expect when he learned
about his once-in-a-lifetime commission.
       "That's the fairy-tale part that everybody asks about," he said.
"How does a weekend watercolorist receive the most prestigious and
desirable art commission in the Christian world?"
       Normart downplays his importance in the project. The real
significance, he insists, is that historic rapprochement of the governing
church powers, an agreement that His Beatitude Torkom Manoogian,
Armenian Apostolic Patriarch of Jerusalem, characterized as "a turning
point for all Christendom."
       The artist's first word about the project was a telephone call from
Brother Donald Mansir, the project originator and at that time vice
president of the Pontifical Mission to Palestine.
       "I was in Sacramento for a business lunch when I heard about it,"
Normart said. "When he [Brother Donald] first mentioned the church, I
figured he probably wanted me to put together some stained-glass
windows. I didn't realize what a big deal it was. It was like telling the
local owner of the Chevy agency he's been promoted to president of
GM. Why me? I still ask myself the question."
       For Mansir, the answer was simple: He had become acquainted
with Normart and his business and artistic skills years ago while serving
as principal of San Joaquin Memorial High School in Fresno.
       "He's [Corky] creative, he's imaginative and he can market things
very well," Mansir said. "It was very important that we be able to sell
something to three different cultures. He's humble in the very best sense;
he wouldn't let ego get in the way of the project."

Ecumenically acceptable
       Mansir knew something else, that Normart was ecumenically
acceptable: As an Episcopalian (though baptized in the Armenian
Orthodox Church), Normart would be considered neutral by custodial
religious groups of the Holy Church of the Sepulcher.
       Normart explained he proceeded with the design, initially
preparing a series of computer-generated color renderings, then a model
and supervising as various crews carried out his ideas.
       "It's strange," he said. "As dazed as I was at first, there was
never a question in my mind that I could pull it off. Given a problem, I
know I can solve it; that's what making art is about. I've never felt
restricted about non-traditional applications of various media. I think
that's judged by my painting.
       "But after I saw the church, I had just five weeks to get back to
Jerusalem with the conceptual drawings. I ended up doing something like
40 of them on a computer. I couldn't have done it by hand. It would
have taken a year."
       The concept Normart developed, specifically to transcend the
territorial concerns and religious problems, is a formal, abstract image.
Given the antiquity of the site, it is remarkably contemporary. But as
Normart explains, that was never an issue. The church already represents
a hodgepodge of often-conflicting styles, acquired through the ages.
       His goal was to create something "simple and strong and
symmetrical that radiated from the center," something that captured the
spirit of the Resurrection but does not relate directly to any individual
religious group.

An exploration of light
       The design consists basically of a wreath of golden "tongues"
(reinforced plaster in relief) that encircles the skylight of the dome. The
image is meant to represent an explosion of light, a metaphor for the
Resurrection. The dormant forms are 12 rays to designate the Apostles
each tipped with three points to suggest the Trinity.
       The background, an off-white that becomes brighter under the
lights as it climbs the wall of the dome, is Normart's impression of the
luminous cloud that led the Israelites across the desert. Clusters of stars
allude to the heavens, though they're actually the artist's device "to fill
the void," Normart says.
       For Normart, the project's most challenging aspect proved to be
the limitations on the color scheme. In an early drawing, he used purple
and red to symbolize the suffering of Christ, but learned that those colors
didn't fit the joy and hope associated with the Resurrection. 
       Another concept that included blue was discounted on the
grounds, as Normart recalls, that "you can't duplicate the sky that only
God created."
       Normart's second test for the Patriarchs involved creating a scale
model. He did that, using a bowl-shaped plastic housing for a video
surveillance camera that he stumbled on at Precision Plastics in Clovis.
For illumination, he installed battery-powered lighting to suggest the
fiber-optic rods that create bands of light around the actual skylight. The
model sits on a plastic framework about six feet high.
       "You sit under it and look up as if you were seeing the dome,
standing on the rotunda floor," Normart said. "That was the final test for
the Patriarchs. It's amazing how close the model looks to the real thing."

Historic occasion
       It was a "wired" (nervous) Normart who met with the clerical
proprietors of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in the Greek Patriarch's
hall.
       "The Greek was the first to sit down," Normart said. "I could see
this small smile appear and a twinkle in his eyes. One by one, they all
reacted the same way. I knew we had them for sure when the Greek
said, `This is an historic occasion; we have sat down together and
agreed.' I've been told it was the first time in 200 years that they've met
and agreed on a discretionary matter."
       Apart from the historic agreement among church leaders, Normart
considers it unbelievable that the project--begun in the fall of 1994 and
completed in December 1996--was finished so quickly.
       Not that there weren't glitches, some springing from the rigid
nature of individual community traditions and tangled ownership of the
property.
       The saving grace to Normart was the steadying influence of
Mansir and technical help of "outsiders" ranging from the architectural
consultant and engineering firm hired in London to an Israeli civil
engineer and a host of local friends who lent initial advice and directions.
       The real heroes, he says, are people like philanthropist George
Doty of Rye, NY, a retired investment banker who underwrote the
project with more than $2 million, and Brother Donald.
       "The project never would have happened at all," said Normart,
"if Brother Donald hadn't been able to put all those people together."
       Normart was there January 2 when church leaders dedicated the
newly restored dome for an audience restricted to the hierarchy and other
dignitaries.
       "I must admit it was an exciting moment," he said, watching the
crowd in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher straining to catch the first
glimpse, as the canvas screen was pulled away.
       Normart will be the guide for two trips to the Holy Land in April
for people who want to see the newly restored dome in person at
Orthodox Easter services.

--David Hale is drama and art critic for the Fresno Bee, from which this
article is reprinted.