Tribute to Evelyn Ortner

from Maribeth Flynn:

When Clem Labine offered me the privilege of speaking at Evelyn’s service, he said that one of Evelyn’s proudest associations was with the docent program at the Brooklyn Museum. I can only say that my pride equaled if not exceeded hers at having her among our number. I was flabbergasted when I had a call from her about six or seven years ago saying she wanted to join the program. This was THE EVELYN ORTNER calling, and I was somewhat intimated. Back in the 70s when Tom and I first bought our home in Ft. Greene, the Ortners were already famous – stars of the renovation movement in Brooklyn. They were the North Star we followed as many of us struggled to make a home and a life in houses and neighborhoods that totally frightened our parents. Theirs was the imprimatur that we were not crazy. So, after Evelyn and I negotiated what she would NOT do as a docent, she joined the program and worked in so many special exhibitions that I have lost count, beginning with the Hiroshige print show through the most recent Tree of Paradise. She especially loved the latter with its complex layers of art, architecture, history, ritual, community practice, and women, all of which was Evelyn’s standard fare. There were also tours in the museum’s collections that were hers alone; she lectured on stained glass, of course and one of my favorites was a tour where she used paintings, decorative arts and period rooms to tell the story of Brooklyn’s Dutch roots. But eventually Evelyn ascended to the throne of Hatshepsut or, as she said on some days, Hot Chef Soup. She was without a doubt, a Queen of Egypt and I’ve seen the slides – all 700 of them - that prove it. Evelyn had very clear preferences as to the collections and exhibitions to which she would devote her time and energies, but she could surprise me. However, I did have my suspicions, that, when she turned up at presentations on topics like Graffiti or the architecture of the museum’s new entry she came not just to learn – we all know Evelyn loved learning new things – but also to tease Everett. As for museum visitors, she was available, engaging, and eager to share her vast knowledge. I have tour groups and college professors who asked specifically for her for their tours in the museum’s Egyptian collection. And she gave full measure of her energy and knowledge every time she went into the galleries. Her notes on a tour this summer when the museum was somewhat slow – “two fabulously interesting guests – so knowledgeable!” Note the term guests. Evelyn treated visitors to the museum as if they had stepped across the threshold of her parlor on Broccoli Place. And how very-Evelyn to pull out all the stops, even for two ‘guests’. Evelyn was the heart of the docents as well. She was a peer trainer, a resource, a leader, a mentor, and most decidedly a good friend and support to the extraordinary group of men and women I am privileged to call colleagues. For me she was a source of wise counsel and support. Evelyn also became a surrogate godmother to me. Not in the sense of Catholic practice, in having responsibility for overseeing my spiritual life – although that would have been a very good idea. Evelyn showed me how one can, in this sometimes unhappy and disappointing world, live a good life, doing good. Grace and graciousness are my husband Tom’s words for her. I would just add generous – amazingly generous - open, funny, caring, great company and a host of other qualities and life lessons I simply have not had time to catalogue in these few sad days. I will miss those qualities and most especially her greeting when I picked up the phone: ‘This is my lucky day” she would say to me. But it was really MY lucky day that she was at the other end of the line. Today, I don’t feel that lucky. Her death has left a hole in my heart, but like my mother, I know she will be on my shoulder the rest of my life. I do have one more thing to do for Evelyn today. Later this afternoon, II will read her name during the Prayers of the Faithful at Mass at the Oratory so that the community – a Brooklyn community- may remember her in their thoughts and prayers. And as her friend Dennis Corrado would say, Amen? Amen.