From Dolls to the Divine

For artist Yolanda Bello-Bogdanyi, the transition from secular assignments to sacred works has been seamless.

In 1996, after 30 successful years as a sculptor, she changed her medium to painting. A steady stream of commissions has followed; her recent clients have included the National Shrine of Divine Mercy in Stockbridge, Mass., the Missionaries of Charity in Bronx, N.Y., and a number of parish churches.

Venezuelan-born Bello Bogdanyi, herself a lay Missionary of Charity, arrived in the United States in 1966. Married last December, she and her husband Francis established St. Joseph Enterprises, Workers of Sacred Art, on March 19 in Omaha, Neb. She spoke with Register correspondent Joseph Pronechen about her work and her ministry.

Why the thematic shift from the secular to the sacred?

After sculpting for many years in the secular world, I got a contract as a doll designer. I always gravitated to do babies; I loved to [depict] the beginning of life and the beauty of life. Always I've been fiercely pro-life. My name became very well-known. Any time I was interviewed, they usually asked what I thought about all these middle-aged women holding dolls.

I would always say the same thing: It seems to me they're missing the pitter-patter of 20 million babies who never got to live. From the mid-'80s to the late '90s, the No. 1 collectible in the world was dolls. Why? They're substitutes. How else do you explain the doll-collecting business going through the roof when the birthrate is the lowest?

So, philosophically, I felt I was already in sacred art.

What response do you hope your work elicits from those who view it?

Hopefully God can use it to reach hearts. The 50-foot wall mural I did for the Missionaries of Charity is across from a park where there are many drug addicts. Some amazing things have happened with people stopping to kneel and pray in front of the mural.

Did Pope John Paul II's 1999 Letter to Artists make an impact on your work?

Yes. He verbalized what I take very seriously. The Holy Father placed on our shoulders the responsibility that what people are led to believe is clearly formed by the artists who illustrate it. He says we have to bear the responsibility of the imagination out there. What is between the lines is that we artists—we who form people's imaginations—have often used our talent to demean human dignity.

Do you approach sacred-art projects differently than you approached secular projects?

The whole point of sacred art is that people are drawn to prayer. So I strive to exclude myself from the picture and to come, as if armed with visual cannonballs, with the message of God. I want those who view the works to be caught up in what God is trying to say to them. It's a matter of letting God work through you as an artist to reach the people in ways only an artist can present.

What advice would you give to artists making a living in the secular world who would like to move into sacred art?

You can do it two ways. I did it as a way of answering the invitation Jesus extended to the rich young man [in Mark 10:17-21]. But that response can be too traumatic for many. I know of many artists who have a calling to do sacred art. They may be working at McDonald's or at a big corporation, but their passion is to do sacred art for God, to speak the truth of God. In their free time they can engage in that which burns in their heart and allow the Holy Spirit to just flow out, whether it be on sketches or even painting their church walls.

What role does your husband have in St. Joseph Enterprises?

In every work that has come my way since we met, he has had to be involved somehow for the piece to succeed as much as it did. He handles the lettering and other technical dimensions within the project, while I'm good at bodies and expressions. For example, in the 50-foot mural we did in the Bronx, he did in minutes what may have taken me hours or days to do.

Where do you see St. Joseph Enterprises several years in the future?

Being a tool God can use to transform churches and illustrate the greatest invisible reality—his presence among us.

Joseph Pronechen is based in Trumbull, Connecticut.