The she in the title is, at the time of this photograph, Katherine Oliverio.
The purely italic title, with limited capitals, was lifted verbatim from a July blogpost, Father Frank Revisited
I photographed the original on a cousin's Family Wall of Fame, many years ago.
The picture's glass frame added an attachment to Father Frank's arm.
Upon viewing the second generation photograph, Carl Hobbes had the natural reaction:
Why is there a lamp in the foreground?
But my ears heard the question differently:
Why is there a lamb in the foreground?
My ears had a Freudian slip but I didn't slip and fall because Carl works in mysterious ways.
All I did was post a painting of Father Frank & the Lamb.
Insert your response to this Oliverio heirloom here:
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Blogger's Note
The text adjacent to the top photographs suffers from a comma overdose because I refuse to reduce the size of my Godmother and my Uncle.
2 comments:
Sometime after 1985 and probably well before 1995, I was asked to do a big picture of FF for an Anniversary of his priesthood or maybe his pastorate.
I think it was on very short notice for a party to be held in the St. Anne's Church gymnasium, there was no other request regarding how it should look. So I sketched him as a shepard, in pencil.
Assisted by technology, I put it on the copy machine and enlarged it 400%, probably enlarged then again in sections, until it was large enough to be considered "big". Or maybe to fit the backing that I had. I waxed its sections to the board then embellished it with pastels.
It was most likely sprayed with a preservative which also helps additional layers of pastel to adhere. It does seem as thought more color may have been applied since it was originally framed, but I can't be sure.
It was an artwork created as ephemeral celebratory signage and I didn't expect it to be used after that day. Someone called to ask me to have it framed, which I did.
Father Frank said he wanted to be buried with it. My intent was a double one, not just to portray him as a good shepard but also to put an animal in his arms.
I remember that it was hung from the St. Anne's basketball hoop, high up. And that a lady came over to me and said something unflattering about it.
My mother and I laughed it off (at that point I had become used to rough comments) but the lady called me after to say that she was sorry for what she had said. That was nice of her and I knew she hadn't meant it. I think had been wine had been served.*
A more appropriate description of your Uncle's Good Shepherd portrait:
Paper Art made from pencil drawing, embellished with pastel.
Yours Truly
"Miss Anonymouse"
(with the terminal e)
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