world meeting of families

What’s for supper? Vol. 6: In which we enjoy the World Meeting of Families by eating

We took the baby and drove to Philadelphia on Thursday, so I could speak at the World Meeting of Families on Friday. Philadelphia, it turns out, is far away, and it takes a long time to drive there. The baby thought this was bullshit, even despite the crackers and rice rusks and wagon wheel puffs we kept throwing at the back seat. We have decided that next time we decide to drive to Philadelphia with a baby, we will change our minds, and not. Anyway, here is what we had this past week, before, during, and after our adventure:

SUNDAY FROZEN PIZZA AND ICE CREAM

Sunday we went apple pickingwith my parents, my sister Rosie and her family, and my brother Jacob and his family.Lovely day! Long ride home, frozen pizzas hit the spot.

MONDAY ZUPPA TOSCANA AND PUMPKIN BREAD

This was one of those days where I kept on finishing up some task and then saying, “Okay, NOW I can get started on supper,” and then the phone would ring and I would have to throw the kids in the car and drive around for another forty minutes. As a result, I rushed and scrambled and screwed both recipes up six different ways, but they both survived, and will both stay on the rotation. The Zuppa Toscana is one of those Olive Garden copycat recipes. I didn’t have any bacon for the soup, and used half and half instead of cream, but it was still mighty tasty. I bought sausage in casings and squeezed the meat out, blushing heavily the whole time.Here’s the pumpkin bread recipe. I foolishly tripled the recipe, which was way too much even for us. It made two loaves, a dozen muffins, and a giant casserole, plus a bunch of batter that I just lapped up like the hungry, batter-eating dog that I am. Here’s a picture of Benny helping me make this recipe a year ago, when I had my shit much more together:

She was saying, “Look at me, Mama! I greatest.”

In the blog post where this photo appeared, I said:

Today we were short a few eggs, so we just mushed up a couple of bananas in their place. Sometimes I put demerara sugar on top, sometimes I add wheat germ, sometimes I add walnuts, almonds, or (to everyone’s chagrin) raisins, but mostly I just make the recipe as is — except I double it, which yields 24 muffins and two loaves. They are lovely and moist, and very good for adding to the kids’ lunches; and while, okay, they are essentially cake, pumpkin is a vegetable! It’s a vegetable.

Wheat germ? Settle down, lady. Isn’t it weird when you read something you wrote not long ago and think, “Who is that?”

TUESDAY SPAGHETTI CARBONARA, GARLIC BREAD, HOT FUDGE SUNDAES

Tuesday was my daughter Clara’s birthday. (She’s having a Hobbit-themed party in a few weeks.) Spaghetti al carbonara is a magnificent dish, so easy to make, so easy to accidentally eat several gallons of. We follow the Fannie Farmer recipe. I fried up the bacon ahead of time, then disguised it in about eleven layers of tin foil and hid it in the back of the fridge with a threatening note attached. Once that was done, the rest is really quick to throw together. Really good company dish. For the sundaes, I couldn’t find hot fudge sauce at Aldi, so I made this quick chocolate sauce recipe: Mix together in a heavy pot 12 oz. of chocolate chips and 12 oz. of evaporated milk. Heat slowly while stirring until it’s all melted and smooth, then add 2 tsp. of vanilla. It turned out a little grainy, probably because I kept wandering away from the pot; but it was still rich and yummy, and the birthday girlpronounced it good.

WEDNESDAY CHICKEN NUGGETS, HOT PRETZELS, ASPARAGUS

Asparagus is the natural choice for a meal like this, because you suddenly remember there is asparagus in the house, and it’s not getting any younger. Whenever my mother would serve asparagus, my father would say, “Look, kids, see how much Ima loves you? She took the time to braid each individual asparagus tip!”

my parents

My only other comment is that few culinary events are sadder than overcooked asparagus. It should be really crunchy when it’s done, so it doesn’t lose that nice nutty flavor. I just put a half inch of water in a pan, boil it, throw in the asparagus with a loose cover, and cook it for a few minutes, and then sprinkle some lemon juice over it. I could eat a bushel of it. Then my husband went out and bought a bag of popcorn and a bag of sugar, and then my mother-in-law came over. Then we left town!

ciao

And then the dress I ordered came in the mail. Humph. We managed to get to New York just before the Pope did on Thursday, then we got to Philadelphia just as the World Meeting of Families was wrapping up (I think my talk was the last one) on Friday, then we left Philadelphia just before the Pope got there on Saturday. Because that’s how we do, stuff, okay? We stopped in New Jersey and bought a solar powered waving pope and some salt water taffy for the kids, because certain three-year-olds had extracted certain promises from me before we left. I wish I could tell you more about World Meeting of Families, but I really only went to my event! No time for anything else. We didn’t even get there in time to see the vendors, and we had to leave before everything shut down completely for the Pope. Everyone I met seemed to be having a splendid time, though. Back to the food!

THURSDAY HOT DOGS, CHIPS, RAW PEPPERS and HUMMUS if you’re a kid stuck at home

I think this is what they ate. We had some kind of overpriced pizza with tons of things on it for dinner. First pizza with anchovies on it. Tasty.

Corrie settles in to her hotel bed; wonders where her parents will be sleeping.

FRIDAY RAVIOLI if you’re a kid stuck at home

Buck-a-shuck raw oysters, and then cheesesteaks, if you’re in Philly

We’d never had raw oysters before, and we weren’t super hungry yet, so we got a bunch of buck-a-shucks at some place called The Olde Somethinge. Verdict: they taste fine. They are pretty good with horseradish. No regrets, but no particular reason to ever order raw oysters again, either. (The chicken and fries were for Corrie, after the waiter tipped us off that it would be cheaper to buy her a whole kid’s meal than just fries.) Then we walked around the city for a while

You people of Philadelphia, you live like gods.

until we got hungry enough to look for cheese steaks, which turned out to be yummy, being as they were made out of cheese and steak. Good one, Philadelphia!

yummy little cheesesteak

SATURDAY I dunno. Pretty sure people ate things.

So, Philadelphia! We briefly met some wonderful people, caught glimpses of some gorgeous neighborhoods, and had the impression that it’s an awesome place. I heard someone speaking Spanish with an Australian accent, and watched some Franciscan friars in patched robes patiently, kindly engage a sweaty man with a giant “NEW ‘CHURCHES’ ARE CORRUPT” protest banner. After driving seven hours with a screaming baby who somehow didn’t need to sleep at all that night, and arguing with a front desk clerk who insisted that our room wasn’t paid for, and getting on the wrong train repeatedly, and going to the wrong door repeatedly, and then ending up in the wrong building, and calling people who said they could be called for help, and hearing that their voice mailbox was full, we found ourselves dashing around the Convention Center, which is the size of Rhode Island, trying to figure out where, if anywhere, my credentials were. Seeing our plight, a woman came up and said, “I’m from Philadelphia. Want some help?” She then walked us alllll over the place until she delivered us to the right spot, pointed out the best-stocked bathroom, and disappeared. If I get to Heaven and my guardian angel has her face, I won’t be surprised. Here’s a few pictures my husband took during my speech while he held the baby (him holding the baby was kind of a theme that weekend): That is Bishop Gainer of Harrisburg, much-beloved of his flock.Here is where the audience’s attention started to wander, so I just started singing show tunes: And here I am on the street afterward, suddenly realizing that I’d rather get Pennsylvania Hookworm than spend another second in those heels: Oh, one more: Here is us finally meeting Tom McDonald, who was covering the event for the Register. Corrie could not take her eyes off his hair:Whew! What a week. Then we came home and went shopping so we could eat this week, too, and then watched one of the Pope’s speeches*, and picked the grapes before they withered on the vine, and even caught the lunar eclipse. All Hail my mother-in-law, Helen Mary, who kept everyone happy, healthy, and whole while we were gone; and all hail to my husband, for making the crazy drive and dealing with that crazy baby and crazy me, and carrying a million bags all over creation. He even took a picture of my eyeliner so I would believe him when he said it wasn’t smudged. I think I’ll skip the link-up this week. Let’s do this again on Friday! *** *Me: We’re going to listen to the Pope’s speech now.
Irene: What if I don’t understand all the words he uses?
Me: Just keep listening. Anyway, he’s not one to use really big, fancy, complicated words, like . . . like . .
Irene: Like “metamorphosis”?
Me: Yeah. Wait. Irene, you know what metamorphosis means.
Irene: Oh, yeah.

Off to Philadelphia!

Hope to see you there!

My speech is Friday at 11:45. The official title is “Go Forth: Evangelization and the Global Community” but the title of the talk I’m actually giving is: “Swimming in the Dark: Spreading the Good News When You’re Feeling So Bad.”

Here’s a nice eyewitness account from my sister Devra, who was at Mass with the Pope in DC yesterday. And if you haven’t heard it yet, he stopped in to visit the Little Sisters of the Poor. A nice counterpoint to Obama’s classless choice of dissident Catholic guests as a welcoming committee.

Okay, wish us luck! It’s going to be a long drive with an angry baby, but I know it’s going to be wonderful once we get there. If you’ve written to me and haven’t heard back, I’ve been kind of hung up on preparations and sick kids, so I hope to get caught up on correspondence next week. Thanks for your patience.

What is the Church to us?

Anybody remember this picture from a few babies ago?

Our Sunday Visitor is publishing a series of companion piece for the World Meeting of Families Catechesis, Love Is Our Mission. In the latest print edition of OSV, I’m very honored to share a page with Scott Hahn and Archbishop Sartain!

My contribution is also online, here: Family Snapshots Capture the Mystery of the Church As Both Human and Devine. It’s an introduction to the chapter 9 of the catechesis, which is called “Mother, Teacher, Family: The Nature and Role of the Church,” and my essay is all about what you can see in this little snapshot of our domestic church.

We are brimming with anticipation, dying to receive the saving grace that will be poured out with the sacrament; and we are also horribly aware of our own inadequacy — and bristling in advance, in case anyone should dare to notice our flaws. We’re the mother, firmly correcting the wayward toddler; we’re the patient father, protecting us from our own wildness. We’re the rambunctious child, heedless and irreverent, only there because we have to be, and ready to spoil it all; we’re the blessed baby, so helpless we don’t even realize how badly we need to be cared for. And over us all rests that golden light — that grace.

Read the rest at OSV.

Yes, Agenda-Driven Infiltrators Are Hijacking the World Meeting of Families

Stahp.

Folks like the one-man band at the Lepanto Institute are introducing a gay agenda into the World Meeting of Families. They’re the infiltrators, the hijackers. They’re the wolf at the gate, eager to lay waste to something wholesome and good.

Enough. Enough with the self-inflicted bite wounds. I understand that it really hurts when those teeth sink into your flesh, but the best way to avoid this pain is to stop biting yourself.

Read the rest at the Register.

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I’m speaking at the World Meeting of Families!

Good grief, I totally forgot to tell you!

Don’t ask me how, why, or how, but they asked me to give a presentation at one of the break-out sessions of the World Meeting of Families in Philadelphia in 2015. My fellow Catholic Patheosi Diana von Glahn and Greg Popcak will be there, too!

Look, I’m on the list and everything. Uhh, you may have to scroll down a bit, down to page fourteen, during the lunch hour on the last day, which is where they totally feature the crowd-grabbers. You’ll see it says that my topic is “Go Forth: Evangelization and the Global Community.” I think you’ll agree that this title, while certainly guaranteed to attract attention, sucks. I’m pretty sure that that’s not the title I submitted, but then again, I’m pretty sure I left my turkey sandwich on the kitchen counter, and where is it now, eh?

So, youse guys gotta help me come up with a better title. Remember, it has to do with families and evangelization, and it has to be about something that I can at least pretend to know about for about forty minutes, and the Pope is totally going to be there. Go!

Catholic Artist of the Month: Neilson Carlin

Here is the third installment in a series: Catholic Artist of the Month. Rather than constantly kvetching about mediocre, sentimental art by Christians, I’ll be featuring artists who are doing it right.

This month, I’m delighted to present Neilson Carlin, whose Holy Family image, commissioned for the World Meeting of Families in Philadelphia in 2015, was recently unveiled by Archbishop Chaput.

Carlin’s work has been widely exhibited. He specializes in commissioned sacred work, and has been training art students for many years at Studio Rilievo in Kennett Square, PA.

Although he was raised Lutheran, Carlin says that when he was young that he wanted to be a priest. But it wasn’t until he was preparing for his marriage that he really considered joining the Church. Here is the conversation we had earlier this week. My questions are in bold.
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Tell us about your conversion to Catholicism.

My parents became involved with Evangelical Christianity, and I believed a lot of stereotypes about Catholics: Mary worship, idol worship, that the Mass was nothing more than vain repetition, that it was a dry, dead, man-created religion.

After college, I started going to Mass with my wife[-to-be], because I wanted to hang out with her. The parish was authentic, with on-fire Christians. There was a profound spirituality. The year before we got married, I went into RCIA, not to become a Catholic, but because we were going to raise the children Catholic. I wanted to at least get from the horse’s mouth what I was vowing to do.

Was there any one issue that especially bothered you about the Church?

The authority issue was the last hurdle. The parish priest was an accountant, and the deacon was a lawyer. The two of them had the right background for my personality. They would systematically, in a cool, rational fashion, answer anything about history, and send me looking to read more, never sending me off without something. They took me to the end of reason where faith begins.

Two weeks before Easter 2000, my heart had to finally break. I had to get down on my knees and get over it, get beyond the issues I had with the Church. My head was in the Church ten years before I ever joined. I didn’t realize that the things I wanted to do as an artist had a place in the Church.

You had established a career as an artist by this point already?

Yes, I’ve been a professional artist since 1992. After doing nine years of commercial illustration, I recognized I had big gaps in my skill set. I was confident I had the ability to draw, with pen and ink — I had wanted to be comic book illustrator. I had oil paintings in my head, but didn’t have the technical ability, so I opted for watercolor.

I met with a teacher in the West Side of Manhattan, Michael Aviano. I took a class, and within thirty minutes I knew this was what I was looking for. Now I teach classes based on what I learned from him.

It’s the Atelier movement, an old-school intensive curriculum that takes you through all the basics. You come into someone’s studio and work directly under them, rather than getting that four-year degree. I spent five years with Aviano, learning painting and composition. The training made me confident I could move into other areas.

Like what?

Like portrait commissions, the gallery market, larger scale oil paintings. Also, in the mid-90′s, there was a shift in the illustration market. The entire commercial field took a hard turn toward the computer. But I like the smell of turpentine.

By the end of the millennium, I had transitioned out of illustration and into gallery work and teaching. When I got some time, I would do sacred work that meant something to me. Portraits of Christ, paintings of the Eucharist.

A lot of your gallery pieces are not overtly religious, but they look pretty incarnational to me. Some of your still lifes, especially, are really sensual.

I thought, “Hide the kids; that is one sexy melon!”

Thank you!

Then there is “Sacrifice,” with juicy meat and some very cruciform bones. To my Catholic eyes, it’s obviously a Catholic painting. What was going on there?

I’ve had great relationship with secular galleries, but I felt like I had to be in the closet with paintings.

They didn’t think there was a market for religious art. They wanted floral paintings, still lifes, and landscapes.

I was making a living, which was better than some, but I didn’t want to end up being 65 years old and still doing this type of work. As much as I loved illustration, there were other things I wanted to do. And part of me still wanted to be a comic book artist, with full-scale, multi-figure, narrative paintings.

Speaking of which, let’s talk about the Holy Family icon for the World Meeting of Families.

The faces of the adults are full of apprehension and worry, but Jesus looks very determined, and His foot is off the stone, as if He can’t wait to get going.

I was trying to convey the centrality of Christ in the family. I don’t care for maudlin, smiling representations of the Holy Family. Joseph and Mary were real people with real concerns. They were concerned about Him, but He was the rock. They had to look to their son for the promise of what He would do. All the elements of the painting bring you back to Him. He’s the center of the piece.

How did you choose the models?

Mary and Jesus’ faces were the one thing I felt some stress over, getting it just right. Some people are saying that they look too Jewish, and some people say they look too Northern European.

I guess that means you did something right!

Technically, I knew I could carry it off. The Bishop was happy with the design, the architecture of the cathedral was incorporated. But I had some sleepless nights because I wanted to make sure they were presented in a way that was respectful. A student of mine does icon writing. She said to pray about it, and allow it to come forth.

Is there a lot of pressure when you’re doing a religious painting? You don’t want to convey something spiritually misleading.

That’s where I rely on the priest I’m working with. I haven’t been raised in the Catholic tradition. Who can follow 2,000 years of history? Once I presented a sketch of Christ the King. I had looked at all these paintings, but it didn’t click with me that the hand of blessing was always the right hand. The liturgical design coordinator had to correct me.

When you’re doing a commission for a church, you must be thinking, “People are going to be looking straight at this for a whole hour, week after week.”

Oh, yes. The current piece I’m working on has twenty saints in twelve individual panels, in preexisting marble niches, six on the left of the tabernacle, six on the right. It’s going to show the Communion of Saints. I’m trying to create a porch where they’re existing.

It’s a difficult design challenge. I want it so that, when someone comes up for Communion, the perspective is gauged for that. The perspective will make sense once the Host is in your mouth, so that all the saints are joining in the feast of the Lamb with you.

For the Holy Family portrait, I wanted people to feel like, when you’re in the cathedral, they’re sitting there with you. There is a high degree of realism in the fabric and especially in the hands where they touch each other.

But I didn’t want people to look at the figures and find them so real, you could meet them at the gas station. I’m always trying to separate the model from the painting.

I know you’ve done a lot of portraits of saints, though, that are supposed to be recognizable. But I’ve seen saint pictures that are just slavishly accurate copies of photos, and they aren’t art, exactly. How do you handle this?

I arrange the figures in original compositions, get them costumed, and then use a photograph [of the saint] and put that head on the model’s body, and reconfigure the lighting in my head. I get a good, solid line drawing, and then put the photo away and work from the line drawing. I don’t try to make it look like a photo.

If the photo is in front of me, I’m going to try to get every last thing in it, but that would anchor the piece too much in matter. If I put the photo away, that allows me to find some balance between the ideal in my head and representing what’s in the photo.

I think the current interest in photorealism, cultivating the ability to copy everything within your visual field, has its root in a revival of 19th-century materialist philosophy. But I’m cultivating an incarnational aesthetic. I used to think that being able to copy what was right in front of my visual field was the peak. But you get there, and you think, “What now?” A whole lot of people can be trained to do that. I’m looking for more.

What are you looking for?

The Baroque period resonates with me the most: that Caravaggiesque dirt under the fingernails. He painted those figures from someone, but you don’t feel like it’s a model. It’s real, tangible, and exists in space, but it’s not slavishly copied from what’s in front of him.

For instance, most of the art depicting Gianna Molla and Miguel Pro are straight up copies of photos. Instead, I tried to create a narrative, show them engaged, show some of their attributes.

Do people sometimes get things out of your paintings that surprise you?

All the time. People find things that I didn’t intend. Like any work of art, a painting isn’t journalism. It’s poetry.

Who are you favorite artists now?

Right now? Guercino, Guido Reni, and Tiepolo. Michelangelo, of course. Raphael, of course. They get back to my roots as a comic book illustrator. The first time I went to the Met in New York, I saw a Guercino, “Sampson Taken by the Philistines,” with that muscular back. It was loaded with figures, so much action, and oodles of figures and colors.

The first thing I thought was, “It looks like a comic book panel.”

How about artists working right now? Who do you like?

For secular artists, a young guy named Adam Miller, a superior draftsman who does a lot of multifigure work. His compositions are extraordinary.

Steve Huston does beautiful figure work.

Donato Giancola does top tier illustration. He’s a painter and designer extraordinaire.

For sacred art: Anthony Visco is a sculptor from Philadelphia. He’s the whole nine yards in one bundle, a real renaissance man: architect, teacher, sculptor.

For painters, Raul Berzosa is my new superhero. He completed a ceiling I couldn’t believe. He’s such a young guy at such a high level. It’s mind boggling.
Cody Swanson is another contemporary secular artist, another powerhouse.

Any advice for artists who would like to work for the Church?

Make sure what’s in your portfolio is what they will want to see! I had only a few pieces of sacred work in my portfolio, but it was enough to catch the eye of Cardinal Burke. That’s what allowed me to take it to the next level.

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A gallery of Carlin’s work, information about commissions, and more can be found at his website, NeilsonCarlin.com.

This is the third in a series of interviews with Catholic artists. Previous installments:
Matthew S. Good
Timothy Jones

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Are you a Catholic artist, or do you know one who would be available for interview? Send me a tip at simchafisher[at]gmail[dot]com. I am especially looking for sculptors, photographers, architects, and painters who are doing non-representational work.