The Wall That Love Built
Barry University
Miami, FL
1969
(ceramic wall mural 9'x9')
Regi Kassel Yanich
Bacardi Gallery
Miami, FL
(solo show 1968)
How did a 30-something Jewish artist and teacher become part of the Barry community? It was a wonderful combination of proximity and serendipity! We lived a mile away. When Regi visited Barry and discovered a large, unused, gas-fired kiln in their art department, that sealed the deal. She could literally fit inside the kiln! Barry’s kiln was a conglomeration of pipes and valves that needed to be manually adjusted throughout the firing. A kiln like that can be intimidating, but not to her. Gas kilns are prized among ceramic artists. Regi proposed a win-win trade of studio space in exchange for teaching ceramics in the art department.
She thrived at Barry. In fact, she was so prolific that her imaginative ceramic sculptures were featured in a solo show at the Bacardi Building in November 1968.
When the Weingrad Building was being planned, the architects contacted the Barry art department to see if they’d be interested in providing décor for the exterior of the building. Regi jumped at the chance to create some ceramic wall murals, even though she had never done anything of this scale before. The only direction she was given was, “Regi, we want something beautiful.” After gathering information and doing glaze and firing tests, she corralled everyone she knew: nuns, students, her kids, our friends, her friends, her friends’ kids, and insisted they participate in what she came to call “The Wall that Love Built.” She had input from students when designing the 3-panel mural, but the large mural was a solo endeavor, designed and executed by her. Sister Mary Joseph and Dixie Groves were her essential assistants.
About 60 people worked on the project, ranging in age from 8 to 68 years old. It took three tons of clay, 6,000 pounds, all mixed and rolled-out by hand. Participants would get a slab of wet clay, cut to size according to the template, given some minimal instructions, and then were free to embellish their tile.
Can you raise your hand if you are one of the people who helped make the Wall that Love Built?
The Barry newsletter quotes Regi. “People think when they see an abstract thing that it just happens. It doesn’t. There are rules, things you must do, things you must not do, and areas where you simply cannot go wrong. I’d be completely exhausted at the end of the day, doing my own job and keeping an eye on everybody else’s, but out of it came some great stimulation. I don’t know if this approach has been used anywhere since the Middle Ages – when whole towns got together to build a cathedral.”
Regi felt welcome at Barry and helped create community here. She was that type of person: open-hearted, quick to laugh. She loved to share ideas and was progressive and open-minded. She had a close working relationship with the nuns, especially Sister Mary Joseph, who’d tease her, asking “Come on Regi. Are you sure you haven’t slipped a little Hebrew into the design somewhere?”
The Wall was created between October 1968 and November 1969, a volatile time in our country. Cities were burning, the Vietnam war was escalating, and we were horrified by the assassinations of the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. and Bobby Kennedy. Young people were protesting in the streets against the war, against segregation and injustice.
To be fair, there were also some bright spots: the emergence of the women’s movement, Black Pride, and environmentalism. And, let’s not forget, the music was REALLY great!!!
As a creative individual, how do you persist in difficult times when things feel tragic and hopeless? Regi’s solution was to get elbow-deep in malleable clay, and rely on her vision to keep her going. She was determined to be the catalyst of something beautiful, and give others the opportunity to be a part of something large, something lasting. Fifty years later, here we are. Barry College is Barry University. Miami is home to people from all over the world. And the Wall That Love Built is still here, still awe-inspiring, still a statement of hope and community.
Regi was a firecracker, a true original, a force of nature. She had a beautiful singing voice and loved to dance. Her favorite sweatshirt had a picture of Snoopy doing his happy dance with the caption, “To live is to dance, to dance is to live!” We were lucky to have a mother who believed women could do anything men could do, that gay relationships were as legitimate as straight ones, and a person’s heritage was something to be celebrated, not feared.
Our parents, Regi and Yusi Yanich, were from Detroit. Regi graduated from Cass Technical High School, attended the Chicago Art Institute, and received her BFA from the Cranbrook Institute of Art. Several years after Israel became a nation, our parents emigrated to Israel. As young Zionists, they worked to help settle Jewish immigrants who’d come from all over the world. My older brother, Noah, and I were born in Jerusalem.
Our parents had a deep sense of social justice. Our dad, Yusi Yanich, was instrumental in the movement to allow Soviet Jews to emigrate to Israel and the US, and he worked to raise awareness of Ethiopian Jews who’d been written out of Jewish history. For many years, he shared his love of Jewish culture by teaching Israeli folk-dancing in Dade & Broward County.
Now, the sad part.
Regi’s life was cut short at the age of 40 from injuries sustained in a tire blow-out on the turnpike. Her absence left a gigantic hole in the lives of everyone who knew her.
When we remember her, we mourn who she was, but we also mourn who she might have become, what she could’ve contributed. This is part of the tragedy of an untimely death.
Regi always mentioned negative space when she taught art: how we tend to focus on a tree’s branches, but the void in between the branches also has a shape, and is also important. As an artist, she knew who was in the room and who wasn’t in the room. Regi wanted everyone to be in the room. To work together to laugh, share, and collaborate.
In Regi’s words, “It seems that the cry of our times, and of our young people, calls for a going back to natural simple beauties. An artist can see in a worn board or a piece of junk, possibilities to create beauty, and they can teach people to see again. Let me stress that this happens only with active participation. This is definitely not the “expert directing the followers” but the artist inspiring fellow humans. This kind of personal sensitivity is a resource that our civilization has, for the most part, wasted. Wouldn’t it be marvelous to return to the day when people could take pride and fulfillment in the work of their hands?”
Ultimately, the legacy Regi left us isn’t just something beautiful to enjoy. The murals are an example of the wonderful things that can happen when people work together. Like each piece of the wall, we are unique. Together, we can create some real beauty. We may think we can opt out of humanity, but we can never know the big picture, how we affect each other, how our lives create ripples extending into the future.
Now I’d like to share a secret with you that will change the way you look at the 3 panel mural. Look at the panel on the left. Can you see a semi-circle mid-way down the panel? Now, look at the panel on the right. Can you see the semi-circle that matches up with the one on the left panel? There are also some circle parts in the middle panel. Cool, huh? Everything is connected, if you are open to seeing it.
