In a world where time is the ultimate adversary, the art of restorative embalming stands as a testament to the human desire to preserve and honor the dead. This intricate practice, often misunderstood and undervalued, is facing an uncertain future amidst shifting cultural attitudes towards death and funeral rituals.
The story of Anthony Saldivar, a former infantry veteran turned mortician, encapsulates the unique blend of skill and compassion required in this field. Saldivar's journey, from reading horror magazines in Afghanistan to mastering the art of special effects makeup in Hollywood, led him to a vocation that blends the metaphysical with the material. His work, and that of his peers, involves transforming decomposing bodies into memory pictures, a process that goes beyond mere cosmetics.
However, the very existence of this art form is threatened. The rise of cremation, the decline of religious ceremonies, and the increasing affordability of direct cremations have led to a dramatic drop in demand for posthumous primping. Restorative art, once a vital part of the funeral industry, is now seen as an expendable luxury by many.
Critics, following in the footsteps of Jessica Mitford's scathing critique in "The American Way of Death," argue that such practices are a form of death denial, cloaking the realities of mortality in perfumes and cosmetics. They suggest that our culture, saturated with death imagery and true crime podcasts, has become desensitized to the finality of death, rendering these rituals unnecessary.
Yet, amidst this cultural shift, there are those who argue for the emotional and environmental benefits of natural burials and open casket viewings. Caitlin Doughty, a mortician and founder of the Order of the Good Death, believes that engaging with the unprocessed corpse can aid in processing grief. However, the high costs associated with alternative funeral services have created a new consumer category, further distancing the average person from traditional funeral practices.
The COVID-19 pandemic has only exacerbated this trend, with many Americans falling out of the habit of attending funerals and opting for virtual services instead. This shift, as Michele Rupar-Smith warns, may lead to a climate of "disenfranchised grief," where public mourning rituals are seen as an unnecessary expense.
Despite these challenges, the atmosphere at the NFDA's Restorative Art Technical Showcase was one of passion and dedication. Contestants like Saldivar, Berri Cooper, and Danielle Colquitt demonstrated their skills, transforming disfigured heads into lifelike visages. Their work, while often performed pro bono or at a discount, is driven by a deep respect for the dead and a desire to provide comfort to the living.
Colquitt, a black woman in a predominantly white industry, brings a unique perspective to the field. She believes in the power of restorative art to honor the dead and provide a sense of closure to the bereaved. Her work, and that of her peers, is a testament to the importance of commemoration and the need to confront mortality head-on.
As we witness the potential demise of this ancient art, we must ask ourselves: What do we lose when we abandon these rituals? Is it merely a niche domain of aesthetic achievement, or does it represent a deeper loss—a loss of our ability to confront and honor death with the dignity and respect it deserves?
In observing the meticulous work of Danielle Colquitt, one can't help but feel a sense of awe and respect for this dying art. It is a reminder that, even in death, we can find beauty, and that the act of restoration is not just about preserving a body, but about honoring a life.
