FINDING LIGHT IN DARKNESS
Renowned artist and priest William Hart Mcnichols previews first major exhibit of icons, images
William Hart Mcnichols draws on his experience as a priest and an artist. His first major exhibit will be at the historic Denver building that bears his family name.
William Hart Mcnichols has often lived in two worlds — priest and artist, tender of flocks and solitary soul, openly gay man and defender of the Catholic Church.
But thanks to the variety of his work as a painter and illustrator, he’s seen a measure of thematic unity creep into his life, driven in part by a new exhibit at the historic Denver building that bears his family name.
“I’ve lived almost different lives,” Mcnichols, 69, said last week in advance of the Sept. 20 opening of “Light in All Darkness: Images and Icons by William Hart Mcnichols.”
“Somebody once said if you’re a great writer, you write with your own blood,” he said. “And I’m painting my experience. But you don’t want to be overly dramatic, so you hold back. I don’t want to tell people what to feel.”
Perhaps. But like a powerhouse vocalist, Mcnichols’ rich, somber work communicates intensity in its stylized restraint. Mcnichols has painted and drawn thousands of pieces that range from children’s book illustrations to massive, revered icons that hang in churches, universities and museums around the globe, including in the Vatican Museum.
Time Magazine once called Mcnichols, born in Denver and based in Albuquerque, “among the most famous creators of Christian iconic images in the world.”
“This is a pretty unique set of skills for a Denver boy to develop,” said Kent Rice, executive director of Denver Arts & Venues, which is producing the exhibit. “I had no idea how
much work he had, but when I met with him and Shanna (Shelby, program administrator for Arts & Venues), I saw that the work was stunningly beautiful.”
Few Denver artists can boast of nonstop international commissions, with 303 meticulously crafted icons and counting. McNichols can, despite a lifelong tension between the callings and institutions that have defined him, between shying from the spotlight and adhering to his passionate, deeply held moral principals.
Mcnichols was born July 10, 1949, the son of Colorado Gov. Stephen L.R. Mcnichols (19571963), nephew of Denver Mayor William H. Mcnichols (19681983), and grandson of city auditor William Henry Mcnichols (19311955). That led to an unusual childhood, which, as the documentary “The Boy Who Found Gold” put it, was dominated by American politics and religion — including meeting John F. Kennedy when he visited Denver.
As a young Jesuit, Mcnichols joined with others in protesting the Vietnam War draft in 1971, and became an early pioneer for LGBT rights in the Catholic Church while working with the AIDS Hospice team of St. Vincent’s Hospital in Manhattan from 1983 to 1990 (during which time he also managed to illustrate more than 20 children’s and adult books for Paulist Press).
After the Boston Globe broke the Catholic Church’s sexabuse scandal in 2002, Mcnichols spoke out about the danger and slander of categorizing gay men and gay priests as pedophiles. This ultimately led to him leaving his family of nearly four decades, the Jesuit order. He remains a priest, with permission of the archbishop of Santa Fe.
“I did (the painting) ‘The Bride — The Church’ in response to the abuse scandal that came out in Albuquerque in 1992, and I sat on that for many years,” said Mcnichols, who has only exhibited his work at a couple small galleries prior to this new exhibition. “I realized I wanted to do something about the church, not as a building or institution, but the mystical church that has been going for 2,000 years. How do you express that in art?”
In Mcnichols’ case, it was as a besieged female figure moving toward Christ, her groom serenely defying the swords that surround her.
The painting, which will be represented like most in the 52piece exhibit as a blownup print (due to the extreme difficulty of securing the originals), shows “the protective Radiance of the Trinity (that) surrounds her,” Mcnichols wrote in the exhibit catalog. “She cannot be touched or harmed. This is the only image of the Church ... that gives me comfort in our very vulnerable and fragile world.”
“By happy and unfortunate coincidence, I think the state of the world is such that the theme of this exhibit will resonate independent of any particular piece people are looking at,” Rice said, referencing the scandalplagued Catholic Church, which is grappling with numerous, renewed calls for investigations of widespread sexual assault of children dating back decades.
Even with his lifelong progressive activism, that pains Mc Nichols greatly, and he’s not eager to talk about it in the context of his first major art exhibit. But Arts & Venues is taking precautions for the exhibit, such as hiring security in anticipation of potential protests or vandalism that may confuse Mcnichols’ progressive, transparent work and his life with the troubled church at large.
Interestingly, Mcnichols’ exhibit — which is free and open the public on the second floor of the building through Jan. 6, 2019 — arrives at the same time as the edgy “Street Art Ink: From the Body to the Wall,” which occupies the third floor. The photographs from Denver artists Casey Kawaguchi and Sandi Calistro intimately document tattoos, murals and more.
“I predict people who come to see this because they’re interested in ink and body art will also be drawn to the (Mcnichols) icons and images, and vice versa,” Rice said. “There’s a certain level of transformation going on in both of them.”
While “Light in All Darkness” does not contain some of McNichols’ most famous work, such as his raw, haunting “The Passion of Matthew Shepard” (honoring the gay Wyoming student who was tortured and killed in 1998), it does include other atypical subjects for a religious icon painter, such as Princess Diana and Denverborn World War I objector and jailed pacifist/writer Robert Salmon.
The subjects are not surprising when one considers that McNichols studied for six years under renowned master iconographer Robert Lentz, an exacting, Russianamerican Franciscan friar also known for his social themes and controversy in the church.
“When Kent and I were talking about this, I realized there was an opportunity to really highlight the fact that a number of Father Bill’s images are not of the holy family,” said curator Shelby, who recounted Mcnich ols pieces that boldly and skillfully portray Islam, Hindu, Buddhist and secular figures. “I just think that’s so important to show that diversity and accessibility, and to open it up to different audiences.”
“Image to Insight,” a lush coffee table book by John D. Dadosky that features an even broader selection of Mcnichols’ work, was published this year by University of New Mexico press and pairs nicely with the Denver exhibit. But little context is needed to appreciate the balance of centuriesold tradition and forwardthinking subject matter in “Light in All Darkness,” even as it deepens the meaning of the work.
“People often say icons seem sad to them, but they’re really not,” Mcnichols said. “They’re really kind of imploring and begging for compassion. I’m trying to cause a metanoia (spiritual conversion) in the person looking at it, because the icon is also looking at you. It asks for love, but it doesn’t work if it’s too sentimental or pretty.”
That said, Mcnichols wants “Light in All Darkness” to be an expression of joy and happiness, not a solemn meditation on the dire state of the world. Having survived a heart collapse and openheart surgery in 2012, and now on the cusp of turning 70 while celebrating his 40th year as a priest, Mcnichols is open to whatever God has next for him.
“It’s better to retire than to be asked to retire,” he said, laughing. “I prayed to God (after openheart surgery) and said, ‘Why did I come back? What didn’t I do yet?’ because I couldn’t understand why I didn’t die. And I realized it’s because the icons hadn’t gotten out yet. They’re not mine and don’t belong to me (Mcnichols never signs his paintings). I realized it’s because it’s God’s will to get them out.”