Opening Reception Friday, Feb. 15, 6 – 8 pm.
http://saintasaphs.org/Current_Exhibit.html

Ed Snyder is having a show of his photography at St. Asaph Gallery, Feb. 17 – Mar. 16 2008. Twenty images spanning his 10-year study of cemetery statuary will be on display. The exhibit merges art and photography with society’s desire to come to terms with death and dying. Oh, and there will be wine and snacks to lighten things up a bit.

St. Asaph church, attached to the gallery, is sort of a miniature gothic cathedral, complete with gargoyles and Tiffany stained glass windows! It’s located one block off City Avenue, near Belmont Avenue in Philadelphia. Please see their website for directions: http://saintasaphs.org/Contacts.html

The percentage of patients who died in the hospital or who developed heart failure was nearly cut in half from 1999 to 2005.

And the heart attack patients treated most recently were far less likely to have another attack within six months of being hospitalized when compared to the patients treated six years earlier – a sign that the more aggressive efforts of doctors in the last few years are working.

Read more details about the study.

One said: “Sometimes when families ask to get relatives’ ashes back, the plastic container for them is too small.”

“Sometimes when families ask to get their relatives’ ashes back, the plastic container for them is too small.

“This wasn’t every time but every now and then there were too many remains.

“Instead of getting a bigger container, the spare ashes were tipped into an emptied-out bottle of embalming fluid which also contained grit.”

In addition, staff allegedly sold used coffins as new and one family was even given the wrong ashes. Needless to say, police are investigating.

After Daniel’s death five months ago, Smith purchased three additional plots – for herself, her lawyer Howard K. Stern and her infant daughter Dannielynn.

Before Anna Nicole, the cemetery claimed only “comon people of the Bahamas.” Daniel Smith’s grave was unmarked, but there’s talk now about how the cemetery will become a tourist spot once the former playmate is buried there.

Source: Canada.com

Mourning Dove

Indigenous to North and Central America, this member of the pigeon family is known for its mournfully plaintive call, “cooOOoo-coo-coo-coo” and the whistling of its wings as it takes flight. It’s interesting that this term came up in our keyword searches for cemetery-related items–I always thought it was morning dove!

In Christianity, the dove represents the Holy Spirit, but is has had many different cultural meanings throughout history. For instance in Jewish history, a dove was sometimes sacrificed for a mother’s purification after childbirth. In Slavic culture, the soul turns into a dove at the moment of death. In the John Prine song, Jesus, The Missing Years, Jesus takes out his guitar and writes a song called “The Dove of Love Fell off the Perch.”

Roadside Memorials

The mourning rituals practiced by today’s fast-moving society are quite novel. Though one rarely feels uplifted by the sad bouquet of soggy stuffed animals tied to the telephone pole, we should respect the fact that people are finding their own ways to deal with loss. Spontaneous memorials like this roadside cross seldom stir up images of a life well spent and a just reward. Rather, they indicate sudden, unexpected, and usually violent death. These are abrupt memorials marking an abrupt loss of life.

People take comfort in ritual. These spontaneous memorials honor the memory of the deceased and provide us with ritual closure. Their purpose is no different from a heavily orchestrated church memorial service, though they are much more informal and personal. While spontaneous memorials may be outside the bounds of social decorum, they are free and low-key )sort of like burying your relative’s ashes on the sly, next to the family grave marker).

Further Reading: A Lively Look at the History of Death

Urn -Vessel of the Soul

I would hazard to guess that urns were the most common sculptural symbol in Victorian-era cemeteries. A Greek symbol of mourning, the urn represents the body as a container of the soul. In ancient Greece, the urn was a repository for the ashes of the dead, so it has quite a literal and functional meaning in a cemetery.

Often the urn is draped with a pall (seen in background), a cloth sometimes used to drape a closed casket. A coffin or casket can also be called a pall, by the way (hence pallbearers). The practice of draping is not isolated to urns, as you can see from this image.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep – Further Exploration into the Symbolism of Death

The heading of this final section is the title of Mary Elizabeth Frye’s famous bereavement poem, reprinted below. As lives are concluded, we mourn the loss. Everywhere we look, we are reminded of the deceased, until time heals the wound. We feel it’s unfair to forget them, but we must get on with our lives. Quite possibly, the grave marker serves this purpose for many people. Subconsciously, at least, we officially mark their place on this earth so no one thinks us callous, and then we get on with our lives. Monuments and symbols become coping mechanisms, cemeteries become landscapes of memories. The world becomes a continual reminder of what once was.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep – by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.

The verse has abundant symbolism, all related to the tension between letting go and holding on. While some cemetery symbols we’ve seen in this article can depict both the end as well as a beginning (e.g., the hourglass with wings), we’ve seen others that simply lament the fact that we are mortal. As we wrestle with our own interpretations of symbols, death, and the afterlife, it is best to consider what (the 17th Century English author) John Milton said:

“The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven.”

To read more about the psychology of mourning, you may want to read: Remembering Well: Rituals for Celebrating Life and Mourning Death (Hardcover)

by Sarah York

If you ever feel the need to feast on the lion’s share of funerary symbolism, visit Arlington Cemetery’s Mourning Arts Museum in Drexel Hill, PA (outside Philadelphia).

Wolf Tables – More than Markers of Burial Plots

While not so much a symbol as a practical device, wolf stones and wolf tables do remind us of the mortality of the flesh. These devices were used where thin soil and/or rocky terrain prevented the digging of deep graves. Here’s a photo of me sitting on a wolf table at a cemetery in Camden, NJ.

(Before this cemetery received an overhaul, it had a 4 x 8 sheet of plywood at the entrance, on which was painted the message: “No unauthorized burials permitted.”)

Stone slabs over graves offered some protection from scavenging wolves. Ben Franklin’s grave in Christ Church burial ground in Philadelphia is an example of a wolf stone. While it may seem a quaint practice to toss a penny onto his grave (“A penny saved is a penny earned”), the Christ Church Preservation Trust actually rakes up about $1800 a year, which helps defray the cost of site maintenance!

Cemetery Gate (Through which Souls Pass)

Another guardian of the grave is the cemetery gate. As you can see from the photo, cemetery gates can be just plain creepy, whether they be an entrance to a fenced family plot or a main gate. A gate or a barred entrance can symbolize the gates of Heaven; the entrance of the departed into the afterlife. This gate is that of the Baltimore National Cemetery.

In the late 1800s, people were just dying to get into Historic Laurel Hill Cemetery in Philadelphia. One of the entrance gates had to be equipped with a turnstile in order to control the flow of horse-drawn carriage visitors into the cemetery!

In the Victorian era (roughly 1837 to 1901), the cemetery was the place to spend a quiet afternoon, as there were no arboretums, parks or museums to provide bucolic getaways from the noisy cities. That is, until the time came that the huge number of visitors and tourists forced Laurel Hill to begin issuing gate passes to lot holders and restricting Sunday visits to family members! (Read more about Laurel Hill Cemetery.)

Read more: The Very Quiet Baltimoreans: A Guide to the Historic Cemeteries and Burial Sites of Baltimore

Women and the Art of Mourning

As men are not allowed to be wholly emotional beings in Western society, women appear to be the designated grievers. This is why there are so many more melancholy women than men depicted in symbolic cemetery memorials. Apart from the odd centurion or archangel, men are typically characterized as their successful earthly selves.

For more on this topic, please see the book Saving Graces: Images of Women European Cemeteries by David Robinson.

Babies, Children, and Cherubs

Another of the famous rural Victorian garden cemeteries (actually the first of its kind in the U.S.) is Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Mount Auburn Cherub was photographed here. Babies, Children, and Cherubs typically represent the untimely death of a child. As such, the symbol can invoke only sadness and death.

Walking through old American cemeteries, it is not unusual to see many hundred-year-old tombstones of children who died before they were two years old-sometimes from the same family as we see in the photo to the left.

We don’t see this as much today since childhood mortality is much lower than it was in the 1800s–mainly due to better living conditions, prenatal care, and vaccinations. Mount Auburn Cemetery (est. 1831), just outside Boston on the Harvard campus, is the nation’s first landscaped or “garden” cemetery. The inception of these outdoor sculpture gardens became a catalyst as well as repository for symbolism new and old.

Read more about Mount Auburn Cemetery: Portsmouth Cemeteries (Images of America) by Glenn A. Knoblock

This is not surprising, as Western society appears to be much more fascinated with death than with the afterlife (a quick scan of popular music and literature should make this plainly evident). In one place we are presented with historical, religious, architectural, genealogical, demographical, and sociological manifestations of society’s desire to memorialize the dead.

We’re all familiar with such symbols as the Star of David, and variations of the cross, but what about broken trees and wolf tables, i.e., symbols of death rather than the afterlife? In this article we’ll have a look at some common and some not-so-common symbols, all associated with letting go. So let’s first look at Mortality, that’s the big one.

Father Time

Much like the Grim Reaper, Father Time is often depicted with a sickle or scythe. Will this mythical personification of time use the instrument to cut us down in our prime? No. Father Time had his origin as Saturn, the Roman Deity of Time and an ancient Italian Corn God known as the Sower (the Greeks referred to him as Cronus or Kronos). Male ruler of the Roman Gods before Jupiter, Saturn’s weapon was a scythe. The Roman holiday of Saturnalia was a celebration of the harvest, hence the scythe. It was not until the Middle Ages that the Grim Reaper depictions familiar to us came into being.Father Time’s old, bent body reminds us that time is the devourer of all things and that, like the sand in the hourglass, his physical vitality will eventually run out -as will ours.In the image “Father Time,” atop a Masonic monument in Queens, NY, the sculptor seems to have taken liberties with symbolism. Angel wings? Your guess is as good as mine. Letting the imagination soar is not an uncommon thing in funerary sculpture. It is the one place where sculptors and architects are not required to follow any one particular style.

Hourglass

As long as we’re on the subject of time, let’s look at one of its symbols–the hourglass. In addition to actually being used as a timekeeping device, the hourglass in the mourning arts conjures the notion of time’s passing and the inevitability of death. Again, time flies, as seen on this cemetery gate emblem (Woodlands Cemetery, Philadelphia). One of the most amazing funerary sculptures I’ve ever seen is on the rear gatehouse of Baltimore’s Louden Park Cemetery-a huge hundred-plus-year-old wooden carving depicting the hourglass with wings. An hourglass indicates the person’s time on earth ran out and suggests that we should embrace life because it, much like the flow of the sand in an hourglass, is finite and will eventually end. Other funerary symbols that essentially say the same thing are the cut tree and the broken pillar.

Human Bones

Another example of the hourglass is depicted above crossed bones, on this stone in an old Quaker churchyard cemetery in Philadelphia. Both symbols are of rudimentary design and therefore were easy to carve. Crossed bones remind us that our earthly bodies will someday die.

According to Wikipedia, actual skulls and bones were long used to mark the entrances to Spanish cemeteries. The practice, dating back to the 1700s, led to the symbol eventually becoming associated with the concept of death. It is interesting to note how the skull and crossbones (depicted on headstones in the 1700s) evolved into the cherub head with wings by the mid-1800s. The change is coincident with society’s changing (i.e., less terrifying) attitudes toward death.

Weeping Willow Tree

Most plants and trees in cemetery ornamentation symbolize the positive, goodness, the afterlife. My father used to refer to death as “pushing up daisies,” a happy notion. The willow, however, is one of the few plants that is plainly indicative of sorrow and mourning. “Nature’s lament,” is how the weeping willow is referred to in Rochester’s Glossary of Victorian Cemetery Symbolism, but why this association with death? Well, cemetery trees in general have a mystique about them. Edgar Lee Masters, in his “Spoon River Anthology” writes how people “…move into the soil and into the flesh of the tree, and into the living epitaphs…” As for the willow itself, Greek mythology has it that the sorceress Circe had a cemetery planted with willow trees dedicated to Hecate (perceived for the most part as the goddess of witchcraft or evil) and her magic. Here men’s corpses were left exposed in the tops of the trees for the birds and elements to devour. From this association with grief and death came the practice of placing willow branches inside coffins, and the planting of young saplings on graves of the departed.

According to the Wiccans, the ancient Celts believed that the spirit of the dead would rise up into the sapling planted above, which would grow and retain the essence of the departed person.

Truth be told, you don’t generally see the willow carved onto tombstones after the 1850s. Prior to that it appeared to be a fairly common symbol. This tattoo belongs to a member of the AGS, Association for Gravestone Studies.

Further reading: The Complete World of Greek Mythology by Richard Buxton

I’d never have known of the existence of this little treasure if not for Ross Mitchell, Executive Director of Laurel Hill Cemetery in Philadelphia. During an interview with Ross, he mentioned that portions of the book will be re-enacted on the cemetery grounds during the Philadelphia Fringe Festival on September 9, 2006.

About Edgar Lee Masters

The author of this poetic odyssey, Edgar Lee Masters (1869-1950), was an enormously prolific American writer and poet. He is known mainly for Spoon River, his most popular work. Ezra Pound said “at last, America has discovered a poet” in reference to Masters. He author was dubbed “the natural child of Walt Whitman” by one critic, as his poetic style is similar to Whitman’s. (Whitman, by the way, is buried across the river from Philadelphia, at Harleigh Cemetery in Camden, NJ).

Structure of Spoon River

The book is essentially a collection of poems written by Masters, epigrams which detail the lives of the many residents of a fictitious midwestern town in the late 1800s. Though more about the human condition, the book is written with the town as a backdrop to 245 single-page monologues by the deceased – as if they wrote their own epitaphs. The poetry is free verse, sometimes beautiful, always poignant in its relation to the balance of life and death. Spoon River is deceptively light reading, but is not to be taken lightly.

After Death, Life Lamented

The epitaphs chronicle the aspirations and interactions, the defeats, the loves, lives, and deaths of these individuals. Most lament the fact that they were not appreciated, though a few are satisfied with their lives. Its timeless take-home message is that even in small-town America, nothing is ever as it seems.

Spoon River is an easy read, as most people’s lives are summed up in a page of poetry. It’s engaging because there are so many different personalities from so many walks of life. Whether it be the successful shopkeeper, the adulterer, unwed mother, or the poor but honest lawyer (Masters himself was a lawyer, serving with the famous Clarence Darrow’s law firm in the early 1900s), the reader is almost certain to relate to one.

Memorials to a Townspeople, Light on the Genealogy

Now townspeople of a different town, the inhabitants admit things about their lives that are a bit shocking, even to the contemporary reader. The book was highly controversial when it was first published (1915), causing quite a stir among political, literary, and religious conservatives. The experiences are loosely based on the small town in which Masters was born, one in which a bank collapse caused great turmoil. The book more than illustrates the trials and tribulations of people in rural America – it mirrors society in general and comments on all of our hypocritical behaviors. Families are loosely followed for two generations, but the book reads as though this entire fictional community passed on at the same time.

Life After Death (The Afterlife as a State of Melancholy)

The book provides interesting social commentary, sometimes amusing, usually melancholy. It reminds us of how one’s own epitaph can be so at odds with the printed obituary or verse carved onto a headstone, a diptych if there ever was! To paraphrase Masters, our true epitaphs are more lasting than stone. A great read for anyone interested in death and the afterlife.

Fringe Festival Performance – The Late Laureates of Laurel Hill (Cemetery)

Spoon River has been adapted to the stage in the past, even with musical scores added. As part of the 2006 Philly Fringe Live Arts Festival, a twilight reading of Spoon River will take place in Philadelphia’s Laurel Hill Cemetery. See the Fringe Festival website for details.

In most places, if a patient is on life support in an intensive care unit and a doctor recommends switching off the life support, they’d have to wait until the patient’s heart stopped beating, brain activity ceased, and for a doctor to officially declare her “brain-dead.” By that time, her organs would be too damaged to be usable.

In June, Ottawa Hospital in Canada announced its first organ transplant in recent history from a patient who hadn’t been classified as brain-dead, but whose heart had stopped – so-called “donation after cardiac death” (DCD). By switching to this definition of death for transplant purposes, doctors hope to increase the number of healthy organs available and the number of potential donors from which they can be harvested.

If the US adopted the definition, it would increase the supply of organs by up to 20%. But whenever science starts proposing modifications to established norms, it sparks intense debates. In this case, the biggest question is whether doctors will end up sacrificing patient care to save another patient on the organ donor waiting list. Will doctors be more likely to jump the gun and declare someone hopeless when they might have the potential to recover at some point in the future?

And what about the organ donors, themselves, who are clueless about such possibilities? Australia, for instance, is considering having a separate check box on the organ donor form to specifically allow people to consent to one or both forms of organ donation.

Still, the US tends to be more conservative about such matters, so I’m guessing that when the mainstream media picks up this debate, it’s likely to spark all sorts of controversy here.

Artist Statement

“Cemetery and Penitentiary Photography” was the working title of this show. The actual title of the show became “Confinement in Solitude.” In this article I’m going to explain how I came up with that title. Here’s my Artist’s Statement for the show:

“Confinement in Solitude”

These words, used to describe Eastern State Penitentiary’s philosophy toward criminals, eerily parallel that of a cemetery. ESP’s original idea that freedom (from criminal behavior) could be achieved through confinement was less than successful. Isn’t everything about the tension between freedom and confinement? Cemetery angels vividly portray this–creatures of flight, frozen in stone.

I’d long been a fan of urban decay-beauty in detritus. Perhaps one reason I enjoy photographing old cemeteries and Eastern State Penitentiary is this oppressive attraction they both possess. But how to connect the two? Coming up with an Artist’s Statement is considerably more difficult than coming up with a title for an individual piece of artwork. I would rather eat bees than do either. Such contemplative writing requires more soul-searching, I believe, than the actual creation of the art itself. So much of the creative process is feeling, rather than overt planning. Like the artist N.C. Wyeth said, in order to create a successful piece of artwork, you must have an emotional connection with the subject. Agreed, but how do you put that into words?

I don’t particularly care for writing about my work because I feel I expose more of myself with words and I risk assigning specific meaning to my work. I’d rather leave it to individuals to find their own meaning in the art. For instance, if I took a picture of a pork chop, hung it in a gallery, and labeled it “Pork Chop,” most people wouldn’t look twice it at. They’d think, “Yep, that’s a pork chop alright.” On the other hand, if the same photograph were untitled, people might think that metaphorically, I’m commenting on the carnivorous nature of man, or space and the passage of time. Subconsciously, I might be. You get the idea.

So even though labels are for jelly jars, I am expected to come up with titles and Artist Statements. So how to make them relevant without giving away the farm? In analyzing the connection between angels and prisons, I gave up early on obvious titles, e.g. “Angels and Devils” (while there were angels in my photographs, the devils were only implied); “God’s Servants and Satan’s Minions” (a bit harsh on the shoplifters and other petty criminals who occupied Eastern State); or “Angels and Penitents.” That last one had promise.

Crime and Punishment in the Victorian Age

When the prison opened in 1829, its founders believed that solitude would “make the criminal regretful and penitent” (hence the new word Penitentiary added to our language). Legislation specifying “separate or solitary confinement at labor” was passed. This correctional theory, as practiced in Philadelphia, became known as the Pennsylvania System, and it became world-famous.

In 1913, The Pennsylvania System of confinement with solitude was abandoned at Eastern State. The system had actually broken down decades earlier, prompted by Charles Dickens’ criticism of the philosophy. He visited the United States in 1842 to see Niagara Falls and Eastern State Penitentiary–two wonders of the Victorian world. He later wrote, “The System is rigid, strict and hopeless solitary confinement, and I believe it, in its effects, to be cruel and wrong…”

So Eastern State’s original concept of freedom (from criminal behavior) through confinement, failed. Stone walls, like stone wings, fail to ascend the arc to freedom.

Death and Mourning in the Victorian Age

Founded in the Victorian 1830s, both Eastern State Penitentiary and the great garden cemeteries like Laurel Hill (Philadelphia) speak volumes about American societal beliefs and norms at the time. Both are examples of our attempt to come to terms with the undesirable realities of death and crime–we confine them both in solitude. We reward them with burial and imprisonment, respectively –”interment” vs. “internment.” Both Eastern State and Laurel Hill were architectural wonders created in a rural setting–Philadelphia had not yet grown to reach them. Penitence and mourning practices both reached stellar proportions in that era (when a family member died, the official mourning period usually lasted a year, during which time ritualistic wearing of black clothing was observed), as did the epic flourish of angels and other ornate cemetery statuary.

Funny how the words interment and internment get confused. Interment is burial; internment is simply imprisonment. If you had asked the inmates at Eastern State to compare their confinement in solitude with that of those interred at Laurel Hill, they may not have thought the difference appreciable. They may have felt like the stone angels–or as T.E. Lawrence would say, “the living knew themselves just sentient puppets on God’s stage.” To me, cemetery angels vividly portray the tension between freedom and confinement that inmates at Eastern State must have felt. This tension between freedom and confinement–isn’t that what life is all about?