Inspiring Words From Outdoor Sculpture Dedication: Georgia Museum of Art

Courtesy of Georgia Museum of Art
March 16, 2023

On February 23, we held a dedication ceremony for one of our new outdoor sculptures by William J. Thompson. Interim vice provost Usha Rodrigues gave the dedication remarks below. As noted by many in attendance, Rodrigues gave a compelling and heartfelt ode to the importance of the work on display and her own love of art throughout her life. If you weren’t at the dedication, please consider these words and perspective when you next visit the museum and see the sculpture in person.

On behalf of the University of Georgia and the Georgia Museum of Art, I want to celebrate a remarkable gift from the family of William and Claire Thompson. It is fitting that this sculpture by such a renowned artist should stand in front of the museum overlooking this beautiful campus of ours. I’d like to share a little of what I’ve learned about him.

William J. Thompson was both sculptor and printmaker. He studied at the Rhode Island School of Design — interrupted by a stint in the army — and took an MFA degree from Cranbrook Academy of Arts in 1946. Upon graduation, at the invitation of Lamar Dodd, he joined the faculty of the Department of Art at the University, retiring in 1983. During his tenure here, he won numerous awards and recognition for his work in stone, wood, and bronze, as well as more experimental media such as polyester resins. In 1977, he was elected to academician rank at the National Academy of Design — a high honor indeed.

Perhaps Thompson’s best-known work is the Andersonville Memorial, a nine-foot bronze sculpture that stands on the grounds of the prisoner of war camp at Andersonville National Park, notably commissioned by the Georgia Natural Resources Commission to commemorate lost prisoners of all American wars.

Thompson was born in Denver in 1926 to a deeply Catholic family, and we can see the theme of this sculpture as memorial, as commemorative, even a as cenotaph. I have a personal connection to his family, since one of his daughters, Sarah, is a neighbor and a dear friend. Indeed, the unveiling ceremony brought together family and friends from across Athens, a clear mark of the indelible mark the Thompsons have left on our community.

I know Dr. Eiland will make some remarks on archangels, but I cannot resist the chance to sound a personal note. As one of my duties as interim vice provost, the Georgia Museum of Art reports to me. It has been an honor, and a joy to work with Dr. Eiland and to be swept into the bewitching world of art that he has embodied so well for so long here at UGA.

My own connection with the art world is more haphazard — but also fairly long-standing. I took an AP art history class in high school, which introduced me to the unparalleled insights into the human condition which art can bring. I relished the way the tangible quality of art made vivid the events I’d learned about in traditional history courses. A stained glass window, for example, makes medieval history come alive in a way that mere recitations of dates and kings and battles cannot. But in reflecting on this sculpture, I have realized that my own interest in art actually predates my high school studies.

My interest in art, in fact, comes from a book – an excellent book – that I read and reread as a child, and have read to each of my three children. Can you guess the book? It’s “From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” by EL Konigsburg. If you haven’t read it, or even if it’s been a while, take my advice: Read it. It won’t disappoint. Two schoolchildren, a sister and brother, Claudia and Barney, run away from home. And where do they go? To the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, of course. They become engrossed in a mystery regarding the provenance of a sculpture they call Angel.

The book is an exploration of sibling relationships, and the conflicting desire for routine and adventure. Claudia runs away seeking excitement, but comes to realize that she is, after all, a creature of habit and predictability. She finds enduring excitement in art and in the pleasure of having earned a secret knowledge of it.

I think it is this book, centering on an angel and the profound way in which art can create connections across continents and generations, that began my interest in art and art history. So, as one of my last remarks as interim VP, speaking at the dedication of this particular sculpture had special resonance for me.

I thank the Thompson family for their generosity and thoughtfulness in recognizing the importance of this work. I can only believe that at a university devoted to tolerance, teaching and the abiding importance of humanistic study, this work, powerful in the strength of its spirituality, will continue to represent those values for future generations.