The Pietà, Michelangelo’s masterful marble sculpture that so mournfully depicts the Virgin Mary cradling Christ’s lifeless body after his crucifixion, is one of history’s most revered and recognizable works of Christian art. It dwells behind a glass encasement in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, where it has been for as long as most can remember.
Since its astonishing creation, it has never left the Eternal City — except for once, that is.
The amazing story of when, why and how is chronicled in Our Lady of the World’s Fair, a new book written by Ruth Nelson, which recounts the time Michelangelo’s Pietà made the transatlantic journey from St. Peter’s Basilica to Queens, New York, for the 1964-65 New York World’s Fair. The likelihood of such a feat occurring in today’s internet age is next to impossible, making this tale from history all the more charming.
Through the book’s 12 chapters, Nelson goes into incredibly well-researched and painstaking detail about all of the logistical, financial and practical hurdles that had to be overcome to bring the Pietà to American shores.
While the cast of players is broad, two figures, in particular, can be credited with pulling it off: the highly influential public official and urban planner Robert Moses, whose ambitious vision the 1964-65 World’s Fair owes its success to, and Cardinal Francis Spellman, who served as Archbishop of New York from 1939 until his death in 1967. Cardinal Spellman’s esteemed reputation with ecclesial hierarchy played a crucial role in convincing the Vatican to loan their most precious sculpture to New York.
The experiences of these two men and their integral involvement in bringing the Pietà to the World’s Fair are described at length throughout the book. More than just a cursory glimpse into a particularly important period of Church history — after all, 1964 and 1965 were the final years of the Second Vatican Council, in which Cardinal Spellman was a participant — these chapters also provide a nostalgic and candid look at American culture in the 1960s and the Herculean efforts on the part of Moses, Cardinal Spellman and countless others to plan and execute a truly global event like the World’s Fair.
As Nelson writes in her preface for the book, “The 1964-1965 New York World’s Fair introduced us to the World of Tomorrow, the world we live in today. There never was nor ever could be a better fair, and that is the memory I have carried since that family vacation brought us to the Queens fairgrounds in 1964.”
Indeed, those fairgrounds must have been something to behold. The World’s Fair was much more than a few tents with mediocre attractions; as the book describes, a virtual small city was constructed from the ground up to accommodate the larger-than-life attractions that drew visitors from all over the world.
Even among an impressive array of attractions that included the famed Unisphere and exhibits from Disney, General Motors and Coca-Cola, it’s hard to compete with a masterpiece like the Pietà. The Vatican Pavilion, which housed the Pietà and many other Catholic works of art, was one of the most popular attractions for the tens of millions of visitors to the fair over its two seasons. The lines were always long, but eager pilgrims had no problem waiting to experience the lasting spiritual balm of the Pietà.
In those days, because hopping on a plane to Rome wasn’t as easy as it is today, seeing the Pietà in the flesh was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for most. It would be the first time, and the last time, the Pietà would ever leave Rome, for the Vatican banned the loan of any of its art in 1965.
The book is replete with anecdotes and details about the World’s Fair, which makes it worth reading from a purely historical perspective alone. However, the chapter titled “Moving Marble,” which gives a play-by-play of how the Pietà was transported across the ocean, is an astounding read in and of itself.
Prepping, packing and shipping a priceless marble sculpture without damage was a daunting task. But through rigorous planning and careful preparation, they managed to do it, and how they did it has all the makings of a great Hollywood film. It may not be readily apparent what X-rays, tracking devices, buoyant containers, explosive bolts and foam beads have to do with transporting a precious sculpture halfway across the world, but all of the above were involved in a feat that simply must be read to be believed.
The bringing of the Pietà to America — and indeed, the entire New York World’s Fair — was such a remarkable feat that it also served as the impetus for another monumental first for the Church. On Oct. 4, 1965, Pope Paul VI visited New York City, which marked “the first-ever visit of any pope to the Western Hemisphere, or, for that matter, the New World.” The inaugural papal visit to the U.S. is described in great detail by Nelson, and again, serves as a nostalgic and fascinating window into both Church and American history.
The 1960s were a volatile time in American history. The Cuban Missile Crisis and the Vietnam War hovered over America and the rest of the world like a dark cloud, and President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in 1963. It is against this backdrop that the World’s Fair took place, which was a welcome respite to counter all the darkness and anxiety that seemed to envelop the globe. It served as a moment of unity for America and the world, coming together as one common human family to showcase the true, the good and the beautiful.
It was also, as Our Lady of the World’s Fair shows, a testament to the unitive and healing power of the Catholic faith, the presence of which, represented by the Pietà, transformed the fair into a truly transcendent occasion.
