Mary Anne Ernst

 Mask by Patrick Amos (1988)



Per a Google search, Patrick Amos was "born into into the Mowachaht band which is one of fourteen bands that make up the Nuu-chah-nulth nation." I purchased the mask in 1993 over a three day period of monetary-discernment from a gallery in the city of Victoria on the island of Vancouver in the province of British Columbia. I did add two woodpecker feathers to the original mask at some point (barely visible in the photo).


The assignment "make a crown of thorns out of the dry winter or the young spring branches" -


When I walked into the gallery, I had no intention of buying. Through the window I had seen a wall of masks that invited me in, and once inside, I could not separate myself from the emotional pull of the one carved by Patrick Amos. With minimal, if any, prior thought ever given to the appearance of the historical Jesus, it was at that moment and in this face, a face from a culture not of Jesus' culture, that I saw what has become the artistic representation of Jesus' face for me, and especially His face on the day of crucifixion. When physically present with the mask, the eyes in their simplicity transfix, and the woodgrain on one side of the face says to me, "I am sad; I know suffering", and on the other, "I am serene". So, the crown of thorns assignment was going to be a collaborative one between the face and me.


In my wanderings, I saw branches with thorns that could rip skin to shreds, as well as safer pseudo-thorns. But I balked at placing a crown of any thorns on the face (not that my words at times aren't the equivalent). I decided on a crown composed of softer ivy leaves. The face balked: "You cannot deny that this happened to me. Think more." I remembered my box of beaded treasures. Me to the face: " How about this one?" The face: "Yes, that one - it won't capture the mocking, but the movable seeds painted red are perfect as thorns - they show I bled - and the white plastic beads as thorn-hosts are sufficient - untangle and keep the ivy, too - perhaps it can be symbolic of the softness of kindness I encountered along the way - will you be with me for the Seven Last Words ?" Me: "Yes ... but I have to wear a mask ... it's blue." The face: "Don't worry - I will recognize you - I know and welcome everyone."