In Memoriam
by Connie Smith, NIADA Artist
When the email from the Board chimed on my phone with just ‘Lisa’ in the subject line, I knew what it was without opening it, and sank into the nearest chair, tears streaming, transported back to the first and last times I heard her voice. I can still remember being so nervous as the phone rang that first time (until she answered; her voice immediately dispersing all my anxiety). “Helloooow?” “OH, Hi-Ho, Connie! E.J. shared your letter with me, and I feel like we’re already old friends!” Lisa was the most unflappably present person I’d ever met. Her ability to be simultaneously unpretentious and charismatic is still as baffling and endearing to me now as it ever was.
By the time I finally met her in person, a year of correspondence had me feeling like I’d known her all my life. Philadelphia, 1995: I followed her around the Conference like a smitten child. She was generous of spirit, walking us away from the hugging crowds on the last day, with her arm clasped around my shoulder, on the pretext of picking up some sundries at a local market, so we could have a private chat before heading back to our respective homes. She said that she’d begun sharing our letters with her husband, Jerry (New England poet turned theater carpenter, then security guard) and that he wanted to know if I’d be open to corresponding with both of them. I was delighted. “You should know,” she confided, “that Jerry is a bit of a curmudgeon. He doesn’t get on with most people.”
They were a complex couple with a knack for alternately eclipsing and exalting each other, and helping to define a more mature relationship to my work and what it means (to me) to be an artist. Twenty-five years her senior, Jerry succumbed to cancer and dementia in 2016, and those last few years that she’d been his sole caregiver had taken a toll on her as well. When I learned of his passing, I called her to offer my condolences and ask if she needed anything; and she told me she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer. I was devastated, and as usual, she could hear it in my voice and made a point of regaling me with anecdotes that made me laugh, even when I didn’t want to.
The thought of never hearing her voice again, saying ‘Hi-Ho!’ The way she had that always made me laugh, even when I was only calling to check in and ‘cheer her up’ after a round of chemo. The thought of her hands never again forming the sublime from the mundane. Of all that magnificent intelligence, unhoused from her meticulously ordered mind… where does it go?
In the last conversation I had with her, I asked how she was filling her days, and if she had any goals that I might help with. She mentioned Elizabeth Brandon, another of our NIADA family who passed from cancer. “Elizabeth once told me, near the end,” Lisa said, “…about an experience she had — not sure if it was religious or ecstatic, or both— but she said it released her from all fear of dying… and I find myself longing to experience it.”
I hope she got that ‘ecstatic release’ she was pining for when last we spoke on the phone. And selfishly, I hope she haunts me (even if only briefly) before moving on to whatever is next for her beautiful soul. I miss her so much already.
Dear Artists, Patrons, Associates, and friends,
With deep sorrow, this message announces the death of our beloved and brilliant NIADA Artist and friend Lisa Lichtenfels. Lisa passed away quietly at home, with her sister Allison by her side, on October 10, 2023. Lisa’s wish was to be cremated and she did not want a service. Lisa wanted her NIADA friends to be told that she knew how much everyone cared. I know that all of the NIADA family grieves along with Allison, Lisa’s friend and mentee Alessandra Lipman, and all who appreciated Lisa and her extraordinary talents. May your memories of Lisa, her rare and bright presence, and the beauty of her work be a blessing. ~ Gracie Coleman
Even though we knew this news might be coming before long, it’s still hard to believe and accept in our hearts that this bright light, so central to our circle, has been extinguished.
Lisa’s work was more unique and inspiring than anyone’s in the realm of art dolls made of cloth. She invented marvelous and mysterious techniques that barely seemed possible for human hands to perform. She also loved the study of anatomy, which helped to bring an unequaled realism to her figures in a medium that’s hard to control. I was amazed and inspired by her work as I entered into the cloth art doll arena, and will forever be grateful for the influence of her ingenuity, intelligence, and artistic point of view. And on a personal level, getting to know her as part of the NIADA family, my love for her good heart, raucous humor, and friendly demeanor will remain with me always as a cherished memory of a profoundly exceptional human being. Rest in Peace, dear Lisa. With much love, Shelley Thornton
The first time I came to NIADA I was so terrified to put one of my funny looking kids down on the table for critique. Lisa was the first person who made me feel like I had something good going on. “Except”, she said, and I will never forget, “with a face like that your doll should be wearing grubby clothes that look like they’ve been peed on or pooped on.”
What a tremendous loss to the doll world. She had an incredible gift. ~ Donna May Robinson
I’m so sorry to hear this. It’s Friday the 13th! Is Lisa somewhere laughing as we take in this terrible truth? I think I’ll spend sometime tonight paging through the book chronicling her work. Lisa….a shaman herself. We’re better for having known her. ~ Juanita Zientara
Dearest Lisa, it has taken us too long to write our condolences, because then it would be real and heartbreaking to acknowledge you are gone. We have fun memories hanging out with you at the bar, dishing the dirt, sharing bizarre stories, real and imagined. You have been a great inspiration to us and NIADA and so many doll artists. Alessandra Lipman created the most beautiful soft sculpture doll in your honour. You will always be forever in our hearts. We love you, Lisa. ~ Peter Meder and Chris Chomick
We are saddened by the news that Lisa Lichtenfels, former Erie resident and creator of the iconic soft sculpture piece, The Avalon, has passed away. Our condolences to Lisa’s family and friends. Lisa lived a successful life as a sculptor, animator, and illustrator, working for Disney Animation Studios before pursuing a career in soft sculpture making. ~ The Erie Art Museum
It’s taken me a while to chime in on Lisa’s untimely death—I have been feeling it deeply and have been at a loss as to how to express my feelings about our collective loss. I’ve started many emails! While we are now grieving additional losses in the NIADA community, I want to acknowledge that I’ve been moved by everybody’s memories of Lisa and the well-deserved accolades.
I had the great privilege of not only knowing Lisa since the late 1980s, but also working closely with her on two books—Figures in Fabric, on her work, and then a book that sadly never came to publication, for financial reasons: Fanciful Figures: A Sculpting Book for Children. Many NIADA artists may remember this creative venture that Lisa and I dreamed up together– a combination how-to dollmaking book for children/children’s story/gallery of doll artists’ works. We worked on it off and on for more than a decade and sadly, when the book was just about ready for publication, in 2013, Reverie Publishing was not in a financial position to publish any more books. It broke my heart to tell Lisa. I spent several years trying to sell it to other publishers, but it was too much of a hybrid for anybody to be willing to take a chance on it. I still have the proofs of the completed pages on my shelf. It’s a deep regret of mine that Lisa’s and my creative endeavor was not published—but it was a great joy to be, briefly, a creative partner of this immensely talented woman.
The poet Edna St. Vincent Millay famously wrote about the death of the American suffragist Inez Millholland: “Take up the song; forget the epitaph.” Meaning, continue the good work! I am sure Lisa would similarly cheer on all her fellow artists as well as the collectors who love her figures—though, I’m sure, with a more comical spin. ~ Krystyna Poray Goddu
Enclosed is the link to Lisa’s obituary and guestbook if you would like to send condolences for her family Lisa Lichtenfels obituary-guestbook
