Off-Center Views: Original Sisters at the Rockwell is a Jewell

1/15/25

Original Sisters at the Rockwell is a Jewell

Anita Kunz as Fairy Tale Portrait

Original Sisters: Portraits of Tenacity and Courage

Anita Kunz

Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, MA

Through May 26, 2025

Illustrations of Light

Through January 4, 2026.

What did you do during COVID lockdown? Canadian-born illustrator Anita Kunz (b. 1956) mused over the women who have inspired her. Then she decided to paint a portrait each day of women past and present. An exhibit at the Norman Rockwell Museum displays 154 of Kunz’s sheroes, plus selected other work.

If her name seems familiar, you’ve probably seen her work in publications such as The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone and numerous others. As an illustrator, Kunz works mostly with water colors on paper. This helped her work faster–you try doing a complete portrait a day–but what stands out in Kunz’s portraits is the uniqueness in how she captures the essence of her subjects. It helps to have a great sense of humor. In the introductory gallery we see Kunz’s puckishness on display in her art and pop culture parodies: a pieta of Olive Oyl and Popeye, John Belushi in his samurai garb, Van Gogh as Goofy, herself as Renée (not René) Magritte, and send ups of Taylor Swift, Aretha Franklin, and Reese Witherspoon.

Ancient Egyptian hailing a cab

Kunz as Renee Magritte

John Belushi

Spoof on Van Gogh

Her portraits are more serious, but there is a lightness to her style that illuminates each subject, even those whose lives didn’t work out as planned. Hers is an A-Y look at indomitable women from 9^th century Saint Æbbe the Younger through Malala Yousafzai. The last name is probably familiar; she’s the 15-yeard-old Afghani girl the Taliban shot in the head yet survived. Each portrait comes with a short identifying paragraph, statement of how Kunz was inspired by that individual, and the fate of the individual. Saint Æbbe, for instance, made a decision that got her and other nuns killed. She headed a Benedictine abbey in Scotland. When she heard Viking raiders were on the way, she and other nuns cut off her noses to make themselves look unattractive and avoid rape. That part worked, but the Norsemen were so appalled that they killed everyone in the abbey and burned it. It is said to be the origin of the phrase “cut off one’s nose to spite the face.” It doesn’t take a lot of thinking to infer what this says about women asserting agency over their own bodies, albeit in an extreme manner.

Most stories are not that gruesome. One of the joys is Kunz’s mix of names you probably know–Rachel Carson, Anne Frank, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Zora Neale Hurston, Toni Morrison, Sojourner Truth–with those you might not: Alice Ball, Buffalo Calf, Lizzie Magee, Betty Soiskin…. And there are quite a few historical and international women: Boudicca, Jeanne de Clisson, Tomoe Gozen, Juliane Koepcke, Irena Sendler, Valentina Tereshkova….

oldest park ranger

Camille Claudel probably sculpted some Rodin masterpieces

Dora Maar, Picasso mistress and more?

Jeanne de Clisson, 14th c Breton pirate

Discovered a treatment for leprosy

inventor of Monopoly game stolen by a man

art patron, artist, bohemian

plugged in long before most men, precursor of rock

probably the one who killed Gen. Custer

Full confession: When the discussion came up about whether or not to head to the Berkshires to see this show, I was unenthused. I’ve been to many portrait galleries and, aside from playing the “Do you know who that is?” game, straight portraiture isn’t my favorite style of art. I guess I must have overdosed on famous people and Dutch burghers at some point. I was, however, so completely won over by Kunz’s work that I came home with the exhibition catalogue. Her portraits come alive, though not in any sort of photographic way. Sorry if this sounds mysterious, but it felt as if Kunz captured a spark in each of her subjects that, in turn, illumined both spirit and historical significance.

A small critique. The final gallery features an end-to-end multi-tiered vertical display of paintings. It was as if they were hung by a Renaissance curator. That made for clear viewing of portraits at eye level, but it was an uncomfortable way to take in those closer to the floor and a neck-craning peek at those higher up. The catalogue showed me numerous images I missed.

Also on display is a small exhibition titled Illustrations of Light (through January 4, 2026). Some of the world’s finest artists–Lautrec springs to mind–found that commercial art pays the bills. In the early 20^th century electric light was new and companies such as the Edison Mazda Electric Light Company had to convince a large section of the skeptical public that electric illumination was a good idea. When persuasion fails, switch to advertising. Unlike today’s trademarks and identifying logos, Edison enlisted the help of artists such as Maxfield Parrish, Norman Rockwell, and N. C. Wyeth to spruce up their profiles. Some ads put light bulbs front and center, but as this exhibit shows, quite a few created (for lack of a better word) a psychological vibe that associated electric light with modernity, a calming glow, and homespun values. I love the old Edison Mazda ads, several of which are displayed alongside the canvases from which they were extracted. I wanted this exhibit to be more extensive, but I was happy to see what I did.