B. Amore!
by Vincent P. Cuccia



“A life unexamined,” B. Amore’s father would often quote from Socrates, “is not worth living.” This warning had an enormous influence on the artwork of this unique artist who lives and works in both Vermont and New York. Her work examines the memories, histories, and emotions that are the legacy of our families and culture.

B. Amore’s work is on display, along with Pauline Jakobsberg, at the Godwin-Ternbach Museum, Queens College/CUNY in an exhibit entitled “History and Memory.” The John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, the Italian American Museum, the Center for Jewish Studies, and the Godwin-Ternbach Museum cosponsor this exciting exhibit that opened on February 18th and will run until June 4th.

Both Pauline Jakobsberg, a Jewish American artist, and B. Amore, an Italian American artist, explore themes of immigration, family, and history and, in the process, confront the highly charged subjects of personal and group cultural memory for both Italian and Jewish immigrants. In reflecting upon her experiences, B. Amore spoke about her work, her life, and her name.

B. Amore says her work, “takes what is in the past and integrates it into the present.” She sculpts in traditional media such as stone and wood; however, her work is extremely contemporary.

Her stone sculptures seem almost to move. “My work is about journey…about life.” Some of her pieces are carvings of boats. She has sculpted steel into “life carts”, similar to the traditional carts of Sicily. These vehicles of transportation lift her work out of the past and into the present. She has sculpted eggs poised to roll. There is so much flow and movement in her work it is hypnotic to view.

Then there is the woodwork, the Triptychs. These are less about movement, but about connection. These “shrines to ordinary people who otherwise would not be part of the historical records” are a wooden frames that are 41” x 72” x 10”. They contain memorabilia, letters, and other artifacts of immigrants’ lives. But most interesting are the doors over the pieces. They look like shutters and one feels that they open into the old world.

The oldest of four children, B. Amore, born Bernadette D’Amore, always “made art.” Her earliest memory is watching her grandfather construct a wall with stone. She was only four, but hypnotized by his work. She felt this need to “help him,” but he pushed her away. The need was so strong “I had to hold my hands behind my back” The need overpowered her and she started carving pieces of wood. At sixteen, however, she decided she would go to college but study sociology not art. She won a full scholarship to Boston University.

B. Amore’s paternal and maternal family immigrated from Avelino, Italy to the North End of Boston. Her father was educated at the seminary. He was a highly intelligent man who spoke Latin to his children. He left the seminary and moved to Washington DC where he got a job with the Library of Congress. But the pull of La famiglia was too strong that when he married, his parents demanded that he give up his government job and return to Boston where he opened a dry cleaning store. “My father sacrificed enormously,” B. said regretfully.

B. Amore’s mother, unlike many Italian American women, was also college educated. “I had a very untraditional family; both my parents had college degrees.” In addition to being well educated, B.’s mother had tremendous compassion. She spent 57 years volunteering at the International Institute. Her life was dedicated to ending social ills. She would translate for disadvantaged immigrants, take them to the train station, and counsel them. Her mother would often drag B. along with her while she volunteered.

All those trips to the International Institute with her mother had a heavy influence on B. Amore, and, like her mother, she wanted to work with hard social issues. After graduation, she started working as a social worker and a therapist.

As a therapist, she began to discover the “human condition.” She says, “No one really likes to talk about painful things. The trauma to the imagination is so great, and if we looked at the larger context, we’d understand.” And what is the larger context? For B. it is looking past the defensive attitude to “that universal place where we are all connected through our pain and finding that point of compassion where understanding dwells.”

B. Amore would eventually get back to art. At the age of twenty-nine, she found herself a divorced, single mother of two, and pregnant again. Then her younger sister called her up with one of those destiny-fulfilling questions. She was taking a class in sculpting and did not know what she was doing. She was hoping B. would pretend to be she and take the class. B. showed up and shivered with excitement. “It was like electricity going through me. Do you understand?”

She asked the teacher some basic questions about cutting against the grain and never went back. I had “gotten it,” she said, “I didn’t need to stay any longer.” All her memories and experiences led to this revelation.

B. Amore had “gotten it.” In fact, she got it so well that she would eventually found and direct her own sculpting school. In 1986, while in her early 40’s, she opened the Carving Studio and Sculpting Center. For eight years she directed the school, but now she just teaches there.

When asked about discrimination in the art world against her as a woman, she said that she did not experience any. However, she did face discrimination against her as a sculptor. “There is prejudice against stone, because it is considered too ‘traditional’ and ‘passé.’”

In 1992 this artist changed her name. She abbreviated her first name and dropped the D’ of her last. The reason was to break with some of the painful things in her past, but “maintain my heritage.” It is a beautiful homage to her culture. B. Amore translates into “Be Love.”

Her name, her art, her life have examined pain and love, old and new culture, stone and steel, present and the past. As a result of her examination, not only her life history, but those of countless other Italian American immigrants are carved in stone, and, thus worth living.