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Isabel's early ceramic pieces are on display at our East Village store. Read about our history!
Isabel, Through the Eyes of her Student
and Friend
Donna Young was 22 years old and fresh out of college when she met the woman who would change her life. Isabel Bloom, still sculpting at 73 but no longer involved in the daily business of the company, came to the studio to deliver a "clay" (the original sculpture, from which a mold is made for final production in concrete). Eventually, she and Donna would develop a friendship that nourished their creative lives while providing many an enjoyable afternoon visit.
To help celebrate Founder's Month and what would have been Isabel's 102nd birthday, we asked Donna to reflect on her friendship with Isabel. Here are some of her thoughts.
What were your first impressions of Isabel?
She was a beautiful woman with a wonderful laugh and big, strong hands. She had dropped by the studio to drop off a new sculpture and everyone - there were only 7 of us at the time - stopped what they were doing to say hi. She visited awhile. She walked around and touched the sculptures. Everyone was so attentive to her. I had only been there a couple of weeks, so this was the first time I ever met her.
  Eventually, you and Isabel became friends. How did that friendship evolve?
I worked as a finisher for several years, and always enjoyed seeing her at the studio when she would drop by. I remember her bringing Baby Bunny and Small Violet in. But when I became a mold-maker, I started going to Isabel's house to pick up her new work. She just lived a couple of blocks up from the studio, on 11th Street. She and John (her husband, the regionalist painter) always offered me something to eat, like cookies and tea. We'd look at her Russian icons and chat about what John had on his easel.
They were full of stories. One of my favorites happened when a guy came to clean their carpets. He looked around the house and said, "My wife has those Isabel Blooms, too!" Another time, Isabel signed a check at the grocery store. The clerk looked at it and said, "You're the real Isabel Bloom? I thought that was just a made-up name, like Betty Crocker!" Isabel got a kick out of her notoriety. She didn't take herself too seriously.
Pretty soon I started visiting when there was no sculpture to pick up. I'd take Isabel's mail to her - lots of it still came to the studio - or collect her recycled buckets and bowls and cans. We used Cool Whip containers to mix the white cement for finishing and tuna cans to hold the Small Bird molds. Beer bottles were melted in the kiln for eyes. Newspapers and bags were used to wrap sculptures for customers.
 Sounds like she was a recycler before recycling was popular, like lots of Depression-era people.
She was! I heard a story from her son Tom at her funeral that really said it all. He said, "Here's how frugal my mom was. Whenever there was a car accident near the house, she would give my brothers and me a broom and dustpan to sweep up the windshield glass to melt for eyes. It got to the point that if we heard the emergency sirens coming our way, we would hide."
Isabel also picked up stones in driveways and parks for eyes. We sorted them by shape and size and color into egg cartons.
Besides being your friend, Isabel also became your mentor. Can you talk about that?
That happened gradually, too. Bernie Murphy and Barb Van Vooren (Bloom owners at the time) asked me to try my hand at sculpting. I created an Angel Plaque, but was too nervous to show it to Isabel. This was sacred ground - I didn't want to step on her toes. Turns out I shouldn't have worried. When I gathered enough courage to show her my next sculpture, she was gracious and generous!
After that, I often took my pieces to Isabel for critiquing and mentoring. If I were struggling with a piece, she gave me the right advice. I remember asking her for help with my Garden Angel. She said the neck was a little too long, and she was right!
She and John were both enormously supportive of other artists.
 Eventually, Isabel asked for your help with her pieces.
Yes. At first, she would take me to the basement occasionally to show me what she was working on. But as her Parkinson's disease progressed, her hands got a little too shaky to be able to do the fine details. I remember the first time she asked me to clean up one of her pieces. It was Angel with Lute. I had come to take it to the studio for production. She said, "By the way, it needs a little help with the face. A little cleaning up. Can you take care of it?" I told her I could, took it back to the studio to finish and then showed it to her for approval. She was fine with it.
 How long did Isabel stay active as a sculptor?
She continued to work into her 90's. She taught me the direct concrete method then, as she worked on a commission piece that never ended up being finished. Later, I was able to repair her direct-concrete West High School Falcon.
I recently turned 50. Isabel's example helps me look forward to my own aging process. Being creative kept her going.
I was very, very lucky to have known Isabel. She was a wonderful woman who continues to affect my life in a profound way.
Happy Birthday, Isabel!
A tribute from Maxine Green, above right, a "forever friend."
On Feb. 20, I will light a candle in front of the Russian icons in my living room. It will not be a religious act but a celebration of the friendship I shared with Isabel Bloom.
I first met Isabel shortly after we moved to the Quad Cities in 1978. My realtor brought me a gift. It was "Hedgehog." She said I should visit Isabel's studio soon.
When I visited her studio, I realized we shared a passion for pre-revolutionary Russian art. She had visited the Soviet Union many times, and I planned to visit it the following summer. As a newcomer to the area, I sensed I had found a new best friend.
I cherished her friendship while she was alive and cherish it still. When I turned 70, feeling uncertain about my "senior years," a revelation dawned. Isabel was 70 when I met her! She had been beautiful, vibrant, active, productive and fun. What a way to move into these years!
I am grateful for Isabel's friendship and miss her dearly. But as a lovely song states, "Friends forever." It works. |
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