The F-word…and my birthday wish for Arabella

The F-word…

That’s what it says in an expert calligraphic hand on the small but rare Seb Lester print that hangs over the bed that artist Arabella Proffer shares with her husband.

Yes, THE f-word. Not one of the friendly birthday card ones like “Forty” or “Fifty”…Arabella is only in her 30s.

Now, since this is a rated PG blog, you know I wouldn’t be using that word unless I had to…and in this story, I feel I have to use it a bit… so please indulge me.

Arabella Couture…a detail of her custom silver handle cane and her amazing shoes

Think of that plaque when I tell you that Arabella has cancer. And not one of the ones you’ve heard of. She has a rare congenital kind where cancer grows here and there in your body, devastating the parts in its path, requiring surgeries and removals of affected body parts. So far it has been a leg bone, and the complete female reproductive system…so far.

Fuck.

See that’s why the f-word is kind of a theme with this blog story.

I hope you don’t think I’m making light of the cancer though. In my so far only vicarious experience with cancer, I have learned a few things. If you have cancer, you own it. And you don’t owe anyone the reserved and gracious cancer patient they may be expecting to see. You get to rock it, fight it, hate it, laugh at it, cry about it, confidently make it part of your identity, wear it with style and kick its ass. And if you want to, you get to say “fuck”…as many times as you G-d- please!

And that is exactly what Arabella does.

Arabella Couture by Judy Takács

Arabella first came on my radar because of her art. She paints on the fantastic fringes of the portrait-painting world. Yes, she paints people, but she doesn’t seek out real ones like I do. She makes up fictitious legendary characters. She paints them small, polished and iconic with glorious, sparkling, intricate, macabre and twisted detail…and they have stories. She creates identities for her fictitious royalty and writes about them in seductive biographical detail.

Her portraits fly in the face of the conventional Mid-western reason for not purchasing and displaying figurative work; “Why would I want to have a painting of someone I don’t know hanging on my wall?” is the refrain landlocked artists hear so often. Through her fictitious biographical book, The National Portrait Gallery of Kessa, she lets us get to know her people… in juicy, gruesome personal detail. And collectors across the globe buy them and hang them on their walls.

Arabella draws inspiration from the many medical procedures she has been subject to as part of the quest for her personal cure for her specific cancer. She also studies frightening medical procedures from medieval times and the dark ages…only to find, sardonically, that the cure for her particular ailment had changed little. Her learning epicenter for these genteel and well-meaning atrocities from days gone by is the Dittrick Medical Museum at Case Western Reserve University. She regularly frequents and extensively promotes this small quiet Cleveland museum on her blog and through social media.

I write this as I prepare to see her at the opening of her April 2014 solo show, “Ephemeral Antidotes,” in the same space where Chicks had its debut last summer, at BAYarts in Bay Village, Ohio. She feverishly (literally) finishes paintings for this show, even as she is recovering from a recent round of 21st century surgery whose complications and incompetencies almost killed her. I do, however, know she will shine tonight. Her work will be rivetingly intelligent and delightful, and she will entertain and educate.

I also hope there will be absolutely no reason to her use the f-word tonight…though somehow, I also know better.

Epilogue

You know how I love an epilogue.

“Ephemeral Antidotes” was a hit, Arabella did indeed shine, surrounded by her exquisitely jewel-like paintings.

In addition to her custom designed, Boris Palatnik silver handled cane, Dolce & Gabbana jacket and Prada shoes, I have never seen anyone rock a catheter bag and tube with such panache.

You think I’m kidding. I’m not. The complications of her very recent surgery left her with a torn bladder and a catheter. The tube snaked out from under her Philip Lim skirt and led into the bag of pee tastefully hidden in her vintage patent leather Chanel bag,…which she held with all the style and confidence of Coco herself.

The show was an amazing success, sales right and left and I didn’t hear the f-word uttered all night long.

Arabella Couture…a detail of crystal ball, her tattoo and her iconic skull ring.

Post-Epilogue and my birthday wish for Arabella

As I dawdled away the months waiting for the right time to post this blog article, (wanting to put some distance between the nun stories and the f-word) Arabella’s medical history continued. She is now headed to yet another surgery for her leg. Very open about her troubles and her frustrations, she wrote all about it in her blog.

Since I’m posting this on MY birthday, I’m going to dedicate my candle blowing out wish to Arabella for a speedy and uneventful recovery from this next surgery. And, yes, I know the thing about jinxing it by telling your birthday wish, but I’ve been birthday wishing for my friends and family for years now, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. And spilling the beans to the few people that actually read to the end of my blog could hardly be considered jinxing it.

But just to be sure, I'll knock on wood too.

Post-POST Epilogue

It is now 2020 and the world is in a weirder state than it ever has before, but you know all about that.

It is also the worst possible time to be diagnosed with anything.

Arabella has, only just recently had her cancer come back. Its back and its very bad, like terminal bad, like hospice bad. I'm heartsick and sad that its going this way. Today, she heads into some aggressive treatments, and I hope and pray with whatever power I may have that the treatment beats back the cancer…yet again.

Please hope and pray with me for Arabella, using whatever power you may have.

Yet another Epilogue!

It is now September 2023. Arabella has spent the past three years doing more than many do in their entire lifetime. 

Between the treatments killing her and the cancer killing her, Arabella has created work when she is able, sold many of the few paintings she has left (there are literally only four originals left for sale on her website!),  created an amazing collection of digital prints and educated herself on the world of NFTs. She is so educated in fact that she wrote a book on it! WTF are NFTs? has established Arabella Proffer as Cleveland Art Community’s authority on the creation and sale of NFTs…Non-fungable tokens. She has also lectured on NFTs…no small feat when you feel like crap between the treatments killing you and the cancer killing you. She has also managed to travel a bit with her devoted and loving husband Ben. 

It is now September 2023 though, and she has made the sad, but totally understandable and sensible decision to quit letting the chemo torture her and begin Hospice care. Hospice care is your Plan B when you decide the balance between quality of life and quantity of life should swing to the shorter quality direction. It means you want to stop feeling like crap all the time, even if it will mean less time. 

So now we'll see. Arabella writes about this in her own words. 

You can support her buy buying her art and prints.

You can support her by contributing to her go fund me.

And, I’m going to make a late birthday wish that Arabella stop suffering and just feel excellent for whatever short time she has left. 

The Last Epilogue

Arabella Proffer passed away on Tuesday night, May 28, 2024 at the age of 45.
Her husband, Ben Vendetta said it beautifully. 

“The light has gone out. My beautiful wife, the love of my life passed away early this evening. I have no words right now, but I will be talking about her forever.”

A Little Coffee Talk…Michelle’s Chutzpah

Michelle’s Chutzpah
by Judy Takács

Chutzpah is one of those Yiddish words, like schlep, schtick and verklempt that has entered the English language via Woody Allen movies, Saturday Night Live skits and Seinfeld reruns. We all know what it means, and for those of you who don’t, it’s pronounced “hootzpah” and means “balls”…figurative ones.

That’s what Michelle, a college political science instructor, wanted to write on her pink and red balls to make them her own.

Michelle was an enigma. Not 15 minutes after she saw my work and chatted with me for the first time at a Valley Art Center Opening, she volunteered to pose for me.

Since her offer was so sudden and unsolicited, I wondered if she knew what she was asking to do…she did. I asked her to look at the Chicks with Balls book (which, conveniently was for sale at the Valley Art Center Shop) to make sure she really understood what Chicks with Balls was all about. So she looked at the book…and understood and stuck by her original offer to pose.

Thrilled to have a volunteer, I got her started on the “concepting your balls” time period.  Sometimes this “homework” period separates the women from the girls…so to speak. More than a few women have dropped off during this time. (If you’re reading this and recognize yourself, worry not…it’s never too late! I know we all get busy with the complexities of life…that’s what chicks with balls do. Shoot me an email at judytakacs@me.com and let me know you’re ready to pose and we’ll get it on the calendar and talk balls!)

With a few months to think it over, Michelle came up with a concept and we arranged a posing session at which I was eager to hear her story, get to know her better and set up her ball idea. I also knew that sometimes there isn’t a “BIG” story, or that maybe it’s private. I never ask to hear one because, for me, the act of volunteering to pose is an act of courage in and of itself.

a detail from Michelle’s Chutzpah

During the posing session, I found out that Michelle was in the process of converting to Judaism, and she wanted to write “Chutzpah” on red and pink balls. I suggested writing it in Hebrew letters, knowing already what I would name the painting, and that I’d write a blog that left no doubt as to what the letters spelled.
As a proud heathen, by choice and not neglect, I very much respect when someone actually goes through the layered thinking process of choosing a religion, and then spends the extensive and rigorous months of learning it takes to convert to it. Much like the way a freshly naturalized citizen knows more about U.S. history than a born and bred native, a convert believes with both eyes wide open.

The other aspect of Michelle’s story that I found out during our fascinating morning together is that she lives with the complexities of a brain injury that resulted from radiation therapy for a tumor a few years ago. It left her with hearing loss and some spacial perception differences. She told me this as I was directing her hands into visually interesting positions during our photo shoot.

She apologized for misunderstanding my instructions. I reassured her that many people who have no brain injuries whatsoever also become confused when I ask them to put their fingers into a natural looking asymmetrical contropposto configuration that simultaneously shows the veins, the knuckles and the palm…while also clutching a ball.

It was my pleasure to paint Michelle, she posed naturally and beautifully, and I am ever grateful she had the Chutzpah to come out and ask me!

a detail from Michelle’s Chutzpah

#CWBMGH…or, Chicks with Balls Multi-Generational Hell

Karen’s time to shine by Judy Takács

I have coined a new acronym phrase which will become as popular as YOLO, LOL and WTF…and possibly more useful to “our” generation.

Here are some possible ways to use it in conversation:

“Sorry I snapped at you, I’m going through some CWBMGH right now.”

“No way can I be a trustee on your board this year, I’ve got some serious CWBMGH going on.”

“I’ll get this project finished for her…the CWBMGH in her life is very intense right now.”

And online, a simple CWBMGH in your facebook status might get you all kinds of heart symbols, love, hugs, thoughts and prayers. Put a sweet picture (old or young) with it and your “likes” will go into the 3 digits. #Hashtag it and support for you may go viral.

And, with this simple acronym, you don’t have to spell out the dirty details and undermine the dignity of those you love.

CWBMGH is shorthand hashtag lingo for…

“My aging mom is in the hospital, hooked up, taped, poked and prodded, helpless and hating life while my seventeen year old is avoiding me and being secretive. His grades are falling, he’s stopped taking his meds and we have college applications to fill out.”

It’s a simple way to say…

“My dad has fallen again and broken a hip this time. It’s time to move him to nursing care from the 4 bedroom family home where he’s lived for the past 50 years. It’s also time to move my daughter into her dorm halfway across the country for the start of her freshman year.”

It’s a way to tell people…

“I just had my third baby, Three under four, and my brother is coming out of rehab …again, and my mom is going back into chemo…again! And my husband might get laid off.”

It’s many more possible worst-case scenarios multiplied and tumbling down on you from multiple generations. All the people you care about need you…now. And you fantasize about the Zen-like calm and peaceful acceptance you’d have if only you had ONE of these issues at a time. You’d be the uplifting princess of joy your people need you to be…guiltless and giddy with only ONE major job to do.

Instead you’re going through CWBMGH. And you’re perpetually torn.

Who should you be “there for”?




I got to know Karen during a very intense CWBMGH time for her. As Karen prepared to send her only child off to college, she was also facing the end of her twenty year marriage, all the while providing the sole emotional support for a mentally challenged hospitalized adult brother.  Another blow came with the unexpected death of her Mother with whom she had just started to forge a relationship, after mental illness and addiction had left her vacant during most of Karen’s childhood.

Karen is an artist and all-round creative soul who runs the absolutely delightful and expertly arranged gift shop at BAYarts. She has put together amazing silent auction offerings for many Cleveland area arts organizations; Zygote Press, CAN Journal and for BAYart’s amazing gala under the stars, Moondance.  (Tickets on sale NOW!) She is immersed in the local art scenes of Gordon Square and Collinwood and has also curated some insightful art shows, choosing and exhibiting the work of artists she selected, under the umbrella of a provocative theme. 

And she throws an amazing Oscar party every year that has become a Bay Village tradition.

During this CWBMGH time, she channeled all the loss, and painted desolate landscapes with lonely little empty houses…and sought the comfort of her loyal, supportive and wonderful network of friends.

Though, I only knew Karen from the Cleveland facebook art community at this point, I  saw how loved she was by her network of west side friends. And how, even during this terrible time for her, she was actively engaged in forcing the return of joy into her life. I could see that Karen was an energetic dynamo who doesn’t sit and wait for other people to make her happy.

Then, during the summer of 2012, I taught a portrait class at BAYarts. (I’m teaching it again actually, only two spots left, sign up now!) And, even though Karen’s work was not portrait based, she signed up for the class as a new adventure. As I got to know her over the six week course, she confirmed what I already knew; Karen was a Chick with Balls.

It was more than a year before the posing date was arranged, but well worth the wait. Karen chose disco balls because of the fabulous Oscar Party she throws and her willingness to “embarrass herself on a dance floor” (Karen’s words, not mine…I think she ROCKS) whenever the opportunity arises.  Even with her tumultuous life, she never skipped throwing the yearly gala, and has not stopped dancing.

I knew that disco balls were the perfect choice because, now that she has emerged from her year (or more) from hell, it is truly Karen’s time to shine.





 

Judy shows her stuff in Cincinnati!

Time for some show and tell…here’s the “tell” part.

Back in the beginning of this epic Chicks with Balls project, when I was concepting my first self-portrait entitled Judy has no balls, I described all my fears and paranoias for you…artistic and otherwise.

Judy has no balls
by Judy Takács

I had always planned a second self-portrait as a resolution, showing how, through this painting project I had developed courage and had figuratively “grown a pair”.

This second self-portrait was not meant as a perverse statement of courage enough to show a breast…that said, the painting did desperately need a breast.

Detail from, Judy finally grew a pair
by Judy Takács

Truly it is only our Puritanical-based American culture that is so titillated and obsessed with this provocative biological food delivery system. Topless grandmothers all over the world sit with inattentive sons-in-law and rowdy grandchildren on crowded international beaches and no one seems to notice, yet, Americans find ways to become offended by the innocent female nipple.

So, I had some societal baggage to contend with.

Now, those that knew me between the years of 1995 and 2001 have seen me breastfeed countless times…I was never shy about that, but somehow the permanence of paint, and the hooplah of an art show gave me pause, but I forged ahead.

During the nipple painting process I enlisted a few mantras to keep me from chickening out; it’s just a pile of paint, if I didn’t add the alizarin crimson and cerulean blue right here, it wouldn’t be a nipple anymore. I also invoked, as kindred spirits, everyone in Hollywood and art who has bared it; Kate Winslet, Julianne Moore, Sharon Stone, Sigourney Weaver, Charlize Theron, and artists Jenny Saville, Alice Neel, Artemisia Gentileschi, Georgia O’Keefe, Frida Kahlo…proud to put my name on that elite list.

Ostensibly, the balls I have grown are artistic ones, and can be summed up with this statement:

The painting gets what the painting wants.

By this, I mean that the painting is more important than the model’s vanity, the artist’s ego or her modesty about society’s expectations. It needs to stand alone and work as a beautifully composed, profoundly painted, intimately personal vision that knocks down the viewer and then lifts her up.

Falling short of that however, the painting needs to be the best I can do with the talent I have at the time I do it. And the painting demanded a nipple; damnit it wanted two…there’s a reflection in the gazing ball.

Detail of my studio reflected in the gazing ball from Judy finally grew a pair
by Judy Takács

Also reflected in the ball is my beloved studio, embraced in a cave of my flesh. And, because so many of the women that posed for Chicks chose jewelry for its symbolism, I did so as well. My various pendants are gifts my boys have chosen or made for me over the years. And of course, I wear my 3 golden rings (engagement, wedding and 20th anniversary) to symbolize my ridiculously supportive husband who had no idea what he was getting himself into when he married me 22 years ago.

Detail of my necklace assortment from Judy finally grew a pair
by Judy Takács

So then, you may ask, where is said nipple?

Well, it’s in the Chicks book, which is available on blurb.com.

And it hung for a month at BAYarts last summer for the Chicks show debut.

But if you missed that, you can see it now through September 12th at the Manifest Gallery in Cincinnati, Ohio as part of the “Nude” show. Being part of this show is BIG for me. I’ve been a long admirer of the Manifest Gallery and its whole Ohio-proud vibe, as well as their support of some of the best artists who paint representational figurative works today.

I’ve been sending to their calls for entry for years, been accepted to one of their International Painting Annuals and also gotten some of the most nicely worded rejection letters I’ve ever seen…they are a class act.

But, this is the first time I’ve been accepted to one of their exhibitions, and I’m excited to make the drive to Cincinnati to check out the whole show!

Friday Night, August 15th from 6:00 to 9:00

During the Walk on Woodburn ArtWalk…which I can’t wait to explore!

Manifest Gallery

2727 Woodburn Ave.

Cincinnati, Ohio



If you’re down in Southern Ohio, I’d love nothing more than to see you at the Opening Reception of “Nude”…and, since you made the drive, you’ll get to see some more of me too!



 

Blazine, a heart of gold

One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to paint more and write less.

Being that it is July already and I haven’t posted a blog since the one about the Nuns in March, I believe I am accomplishing this goal.

In the interests of writing less, I have also expanded my social media world to Instagram, where it’s really all about the pictures, not the words, so please follow me there too…#judytakacs. I’m posting work in progress on the Chicks paintings.

And, I have finally changed my facebook fanpage name to Judy Takacs, artist and have posted selected Chicks paintings there. Please check it out and give it a “like” if you’re so inclined.

I really have been feverishly, furiously, passionately painting my next set of Chicks for my ongoing series, Chicks with Balls. And here’s the first one I am ready to present to you…“Blazine, a heart of gold”.

Blazine, a heart of gold by Judy Takács

I met Blazine on facebook, we have mutual friends and exchanged high fives in the form of likes and comments for some of our opinions about an on-going art-persecution situation  in the nearby quaint town of Chagrin Falls, Ohio. (If you’re looking for more Ohio Art Persecution, sadly you will find it…read about Loren Naji  a Cleveland Gallery owner, and Karen Prasser  former director of the Solon Center for the Arts.)

One thing led to another and Blazine volunteered to pose for Chicks. When I told her that I was working on other projects and would return to the Chicks in a few months, she told me she needed to pose right away.

Now, since Chicks with Balls opened last summer at BAYarts, I’ve had more than a few women volunteer for Chicks (and a couple dudes too.) Sometimes they are eagerly awaiting my phone call, we schedule a day, do the pose and it’s all good. Other times, however, multiple emails and phone calls are exchanged and nothing materializes. So, to have a willing participant wanting to pose right away was a godsend to this “get it done” gal.

And so Blazine came to pose. Turns out she was going through chemotherapy and juggling the schedule of feeling good vs. feeling bad with her active life of caring for her people. Blazine had recently underwent a double mastectomy and would, in a month or so stop chemo, grow her hair back and go back for reconstructive surgery. The urgency was, much to my relief, not because of a bad prognosis. She said she was doing great and I was thrilled that posing for Chicks was a thing she was driven to do now. She didn’t want to let life, surgery, recovery and a rushed return to normalcy divert her from the passion of this artistic and bold decision.

I love when people feel compelled to pose like this. It means they are as driven by the art as I am, and I know that is an awesome feeling. I’m thrilled to share it with my friends and honored they have trusted me to create art using their inspiration as mine.

The balls Blazine chose, had nothing to do with her own cancer. She chose gold beach balls; the gold symbolizing childhood cancer; a cause she has been active with for years. The gold beach balls were a delight to paint, second only to Blazine’s strong, smart, stable and beautiful bald presence.

Blazine’s portrait fell together as easily as her offer to pose fell into my lap.

I call the painting, “Blazine, heart of gold”

Chicks books for sale at the upcoming Portrait Society Meeting!

Each year as I get ready for the Portrait Society of America meeting, I pack with an eye to leaving space in my luggage for all the new art books I’m going to buy.
Over the years I’ve amassed a small library of inspirational art books purchased at the veritable artists candy store that is the PSoA Book table.

And this year, for the first time ever, my Chicks with Balls book will also be for sale at the amazing Portrait Society book table!

Chicks with Balls: Judy Takács Paints Unsung Female Heroes
large and small format books for sale at the Portrait Society Meeting in D.C.

Portrait of Maquoketa by Rose Frantzen

I shall always remember my first Portrait Society book purchase; “Portrait of Maquoketa” by Rose Frantzen. After seeing her win the “Face-off” live portrait competition, watching her riveting oil painting demonstration, hearing her speak, meeting her and learning about her epic portrait project painting the citizens of her hometown, I snagged a copy of the book. Fortunately I got one before they sold out and lined up to have her sign it too. Since then I have had many breakfasts and late night snacks while poring over the 180 portraits it houses. Read about how Portrait of Maquoketa spurred me on to  move forward with my Chicks with Balls project and make it come to life!

Breaking the Rules of Watercolor and The Intimate Eye by Burton Silverman, New York Creative from Raymond Everett Kinstler and Self-Portraits and Oil Painting Secrets from a Master from David Leffel

At subsequent conferences I also discovered where Burton Silverman, Raymond Everett Kinstler, and David Lefell had been hiding since I first heard about them 30 years ago from my Portrait Painting teacher, José Cintron at the Cleveland Institute of Art. Over the next couple conferences, I bought their newer books and even dragged my 30-year-old tattered, oil-paint and coffee-stained ones from my collection at home for them to sign. It was a thrill to meet these gentlemen, who were, for me living legends from my early training.

Nelson Shanks from Nelson Shanks and Alla Prima by Richard Schmid

At the Portrait Society book table, I was also introduced to Nelson Shanks and Richard Schmid…in book format…can you believe I’d never heard of them before I came to the Portrait Society? I bought both their books and ensured another year or so of inspiring breakfast book dates.

Visions and Voyages by Susan Lyon

And then there was the incredible Susan Lyon book. When my friend bought Visions and Voyages one year, I pored through it, but was already over 50 lbs in my luggage for the return flight. I vowed to come back and buy it the following year. Fearing a sellout like Rose’s book, however, I came back the next morning and bought it anyway. I brought it home as carry-on and read it on the plane. I knew that her book as my breakfast companion would serve as a catalyst for delicious and meaningful brushwork for years to come.

The Incognito Project by Terry Strickland

Last year, I was thrilled to see The Incognito Project by Terry Strickland at the always crowded Portrait Society Book table. I had been following her project where she enticed her friends and family to reveal their secret selves and pose for her. This was of special interest to me because there were similarities in process to my own Chicks with Balls project. Lucky for me I had already ordered the book online and didn’t have to fight for one before it sold out…but I was thrilled to finally meet Terry after only talking to her on facebook.

Working South by Mary Whyte

And I’ll always remember the Portrait Society Conference where I saw Mary Whyte speak about her working south project. She bowled me over with her brilliant, quiet, thoughtful descriptions of her meticulously observed series chronicling the jobs of manual workers in vanishing fields. When she sat down with us for a glass of wine at the bar, it was confirmed I was in the company of a profoundly talented and gracious artist. Next chance I had, I made her book mine and had her sign it. Since then, I have been her groupie and have followed her shows to the Butler Institute and the National Arts Club in New York!

This year I’m looking forward to seeing what the book table has to offer. And, I am especially honored that the Portrait Society has asked me to sell my very own book, Chicks with Balls: Judy Takács paints unsung female heroes, at the fabulous, famous Portrait Society of America book table.

So, please, when you come to the conference this year, leave room in your luggage…or bring a sturdy carry-on totebag! You’ll go home with inspiration to last you a lifetime… maybe you'll go home with “Chicks with Balls!”

 

My collection is growing…maybe yours will too!

And just for the Portrait Society, I will be introducing an abridged, smaller version of the Chicks with Balls book for $50. During the Conference in DC, it will sell for the special discounted price of $45. After that it will be available on blurb.com at the full $50 price.

The complete, beautiful, large, original version is available $80 online at blurb.com.

And if I see you at the Portrait Society, I’ll be more than thrilled to personally sign a copy just for you or for a special Chicks with Balls in your life. Mother’s Day is coming up you know! I'll be sitting at the book signing table on Friday May 1st at 12:30, and look forward to meeting you!

Painting Nuns: The Covered…and Uncovered Woman

During my weekly sessions, painting the retired sisters of Notre Dame, the concept of the veiled and covered woman conjured up all kinds of memories and associations for me.
 

Sr. Marian Coughlin: Grace by Judy Takács

Who can forget the perky and kind Sister Bertrille from “The Flying Nun”?

Sally Field plays the classic “fun nun” in television’s "The Flying Nun”!

I grew up watching the sexy but veiled Barbara Eden from “I Dream of Jeannie.” She referred to her love interest, Major Tony Nelson as “Master.” Even though she had him wrapped around her finger, the whole "Master" thing didn’t sit right with me one bit.

Barbara Eden plays the mischievous Jeannie in the
1960s sitcom “I Dream of Jeannie.”

And, of course, every single clichéd female celebrity of the last century who “vanted to be alone” hid behind a scarf and sunglasses.   

The Mennonites and the Amish women wear bonnets reminiscent of the 19th century, when Pioneer women obeyed their husbands, couldn't vote or own property, but could wield a shotgun and a hoe with the best of them.

The Tichel head covering or the Sheitel wig is worn by an Ultra-Orthodox Jewish wife for modesty so that only her husband may see her hair.

The Tichel like the one pictured covers the head of an
Ultra-Orthodox Jewish wife.

Servants, slaves and working class wives in history, art, fiction and movies
have all worn a kerchief.
 

Academy Award-winning Hattie McDaniel plays the
unforgettable “Mammy” to perfection.
With dignity, humor, loyalty and common sense she simultaneously
scolds and serves Vivien Leigh’s Scarlett in Gone with the Wind.

And, here in the west, we think of the Burka and Niqab as shrouds of subjugation that hide a woman as the private property of her husband and family. Though in the countries where women actually are enslaved, the consequences of not wearing one are dangerous and the full body covering serves as protection too.

Muslim women walk down the street gloved and covered in their Niqabs.

And, finally, the mother of all veiled women, the Virgin Mary, rarely appears in art without her characteristic blue and white headdress and adoringly down-cast or euphorically upcast eyes. A symbol of female perfection, she is maternal, peaceful, loving…and covered.

The Virgin with Angels by Alfred William Bougereau

In my life there has been only one situation where I was confronted with wearing a symbolic head-covering unrelated to warmth.

In planning my wedding, the question of what my veil would look like naturally came up.

As Chief Creative Officer of my wedding, I squashed the veil concept eagerly and without hesitation. Like being called man and WIFE, Mrs. SCOTT Pendergast and promising to love honor and OBEY, I was philosophically opposed.

To me, the bridal veil tradition brought with it images of an obedient daughter of a Medieval family, shrouded and presented to a wealthy suitor along with livestock, land and dowry to secure power and position for her family. The father’s lifting of the veil at the key moment when it was too late for the waiting groom to back out, was too much for this liberated woman, heavily steeped in the feminist movement.

I opted for a lovely hair ornament instead and went into my marriage with both eyes wide open.

Me and my honey on our wedding day.

When I embarked upon my nun painting expedition painting the retired sisters of Notre Dame, I guess I expected their retirement home to look like the convent in “The Sound of Music”;  all abuzz with kindly old singing nuns whose fascinating wizened faces peeked out from the black-and-white modest dignity of a nun’s habit. Portrait essays in black, white and flesh would be juxtaposed with red and pink backgrounds in my sensitively rendered likenesses.

“How do you solve a problem like Maria?”
The nuns from the convent sing about Julie Andrews’ lack of commitment to the sisterhood in “The Sound of Music.”

What I found, however, was that of 170 residents at the retirement home, 11 wore the headgear, and even fewer wore the full habit.

Back in the 1970s, word had been sent from the Vatican that the sisters were no longer required to wear the habit and headdress…and after talking with my new nun friends, I found that many of them said a collective “Hallelujah!” at that news!

Apparently the early headgear was incredibly uncomfortable, gradually tore your hair out and distorted your hearing too. Back in the early days, these women had to make their own headgear by cutting out plastic parts from bleach bottles and covering them with fabric. They wore these stiff wimples during the day and  switched to a slightly more forgiving head covering at night for sleeping.

The traditional headdress of the Sisters of Notre Dame.
Pictured above is Sister Madeline Columbro,
who currently resides at the Retirement Center.

Because the stiff headgear prevented peripheral vision, the sisters who wore it could not drive a car. To go out and serve in the community, they had to rely on drivers, thus adding a layer of complexity to accomplishing their missions.

When these women joined the order at the age of 17 or so, they signed on to cover their heads, day and night…for the rest of their lives. The early convents also enforced the vow of modesty by removing any mirrors. This made it difficult for the sisters to check that their headgear sat straight, with hair nicely tucked away, during the many years they dutifully wore it.

The sisters who eventually shed their habits when it was no longer required, had wonderful reasons besides comfort and convenience. Many disliked the outward display of piety the habit symbolized, feeling that it separated them from the very community of people they wanted to help.

Some of the sisters chose to continue wearing the headgear, and their reasons for doing so were just as compelling as the reasons not to. 

The wearers of the headdress liked how it identified them as someone who can officially help you…like a police officer or fire fighter. One sister told me that without the habit, she’s just a nosy old lady giving kind words and blessings where maybe it wasn’t welcomed. But the habit gave her the authority and courage to help, knowing that her efforts would be taken seriously, respected and would truly bring comfort because of the higher power she was representing.

Sister Sharone, Quiet Joy
Judy Takács

The decision whether or not to wear the headgear was motivated by the same goal; to help those in need the best way they knew how. 

And thankfully, in recent years these noble women were given the option to chose how best to accomplish that mission…with or without the headdress. 


And even this feminist heathen painter who chose to shun the bridal veil, can’t find a darn thing wrong with that!

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Soon you can see the entire collection of my paintings of retired nuns.
You're all invited to the exhibition…

NUN: Judy Takács Paints
Retired Sisters of Notre Dame

Opening Reception: Thursday night April 10th from 5:00 to 7:00

Clara Fritzsche Library Gallery

Notre Dame College

4545 College Road

South Euclid, Ohio

Show dates April 10th through May 23

Gallery hours are generous and the same as library hours.

call for details…216-373-5267

Sr. Patricia Gannon: The Brave by Judy Takács

At the Opening Reception, my mom, Dalma Takács will be in attendance 
selling and signing some of the novels she has authored.
My paintings are featured on her book covers.
Also for sale and signing will be some of my art books, including
Chicks with Balls: Judy Takács Paints Unsung Female Heroes.

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Read my other blogpost about a Heathen Painting Nuns.
See you at the opening!