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Catholic Sentinel

December 2004
Holy and gritty converse in mosaics


Lodged in one of artist Mary Tapogna's lovingly-made tile mosaic images of the Blessed Virgin Mary is a dented bottle cap.

Tapogna -- raised in a Italian-Catholic household in small-town Springfield, Ohio -- juxtaposes sacred images with everyday objects culled from the streets of Portland -- a partly-fractured bicycle reflector, glass from a broken phone booth.

Her work, getting noticed more and more on the local art scene, has a way of elevating the ordinary while making the sacred accessible.

"I'm definitely not trying to be disrespectful," she says, wearing a trademark wool cap and flowery apron as she works in her shop at Northeast 30th and Killingsworth. "I'm also not trying to promote religion on anyone."

This 40-year-old artist, who sometimes walks about reciting the Hail Mary, seems to use her art to help her advance in understanding of faith.

She is at a loss for words when asked what the Mother of God means to her. But her mosaics say plenty. Partly real, partly stylized, the portraits are somehow whimsical and devout at once, as if Mary were not some distant figure, but a good-humored friend.

"Maybe it is Mary as the mother of all mothers that is interesting," Tapogna ventures.

Certainly, her 78-year-old mother Alice is a strong influence on the art. Tapogna traces her sense of humor to her mother, now living in a home for Alzheimer's patients in Ohio. Alice, actually a favorite subject, was the focus of a recent show. She will figure in Tapogna's January exhibit "Familiar" at the Interstate Firehouse Cultural Center.

"I have always been drawn to her in my art," Tapogna explains. "She is a very important figure in my life. It is something I feel I need to do." One mosaic portrait of her mom ranks as the artist's favorite piece.

Tapogna attended art school in Cincinnati, specializing in photography. Her photos have appeared in the Oregonian, the New York Times and even this newspaper. Her picture of a mourning Korean woman at the funeral of Auxiliary Bishop Paul Waldschmidt won an award from the Catholic Press Association. She also has taken well-known photos of Tonya Harding, Madonna and director Gus Van Sant.

The mosaic work began when she was designing frames for her photos. Then, in 1997, she began using her photos as outlines for mosaics, a practice she continues.

Inspired by long-lived mosaics from the ancient Christian world, she is moving toward using smaller and smaller fragments. That increases the time it takes to complete a piece, but gives a texture she values.

Tapogna's works offer a clear image when viewed from a distance. Up close, they are a treasure hunt full of surprise. That reddish pink at the heart of a cross? It's an "I Love New York" button.

She moved to Oregon in 1990 and began freelance photography work. On one election night before the advent of digital cameras, the Oregonian asked her to run from campaign office to campaign office to pick up film of the jubilant or forlorn candidates.

Her very first mosaic was an image of the Virgin Mary. It now hangs in Dots Cafe in Southeast Portland.

"I love her work," says Dots co-owner Monica Ransdell. "She has a view of faces and people that is very unique."

Ransdell is particularly fond of the found objects in the mosaics, such as a bead or a bent fork.

Tapogna's work has caught notice elsewhere. When brew-pub entrepreneurs were renovating the old Kennedy School in Northeast Portland, they asked for a collection of 30 mosaic portraits, which hang on the walls. She has since sold almost 20 mosaic lights to the pub and hotel.

Tri-Met asked her to help design the Kenton station of the north light rail line.

Making mosaics is therapeutic, Tapogna says.

"It doesn't happen fast," she explains. "It is piece by piece by piece. Overall, I don't think I'm a very patient person, but this has forced me to be patient."

The material for her work comes from her walks around the city. But people, some of whom she does not even know, have been leaving pots, jars, vases and other items in front of the shop, aware that she might make use of them.

Tapogna will not hold forth in extra paragraphs about the meaning of her work. She just does it, not entirely clear what it means. But critics have a few things to say.

"What is special about her is her interest in people," says Roberta Wong, who directed the Interstate Firehouse Cultural Center. "Then the objects she selects to add give an aspect of time and place to the image. . . .When an artist works close to her heart a love and attention comes through."

Tapogna kept a store on Northeast Alberta Street until construction blocked her visibility. Now, she has taken a chance on a street that is up and coming. She is next door to Grolla, a Mediterranean-inspired restaurant owned by Chris and Angela Lachmann, members of St. Sharbel Parish.

Tapogna went to 12 years of Catholic school, and she is glad for that upbringing. She appreciates the discipline, the structure, the quality of academics, even the school uniforms.

"I learned to be respectful but to explore," she says. "The respect is in the work, I think." She has named her shop Hail Mary. It does not refer to herself, but to the prayer. She wanted the name to draw people into the shop, as well as the sacred-common duality of her work.

One day, a disheveled man stumbled past the shop and said to her, "Hail Mary, full of grace. . ." and then got stuck. Tapogna taught him the rest of the prayer.