If you have ever strolled through the Boston Public Garden among its beautiful trees, flowers and iconic swan boats, you have likely come across the Make Way for Ducklings sculpture featuring Mrs. Mallard and her eight ducklings.  If you were with children, no doubt they immediately ran over to touch or sit astride the ducks, smiling widely.  This sculpture is the best known work of Newton artist Nancy Schön, a warm and vibrant person I first met long before she was famous, when I was just starting college and she generously invited me to visit her home anytime I need a break from the dorm.  She and her husband Don, a noted professor at the MIT Department of Urban Studies and Planning, welcomed me many times. It was early in her artistic career and I often observed her hard at work in the drawing space set up in the upstairs hallway, painstakingly making drawings of famous paintings, following the advice of a mentor who said “copy the masters.” 

Now 96, still exuding her sharp wit punctuated with an infectious laugh, Nancy Schön looks back over her body of work with satisfaction.  But she is not done.  

Describing herself as a drop-out from college, she took some time off to work in a wide range of jobs; eventually enrolled in the Museum School for four years plus a fifth fellowship year; then won first place for her senior thesis sculpture at the Museum of Fine Arts.  Ultimately she also achieved a degree in sociology at Tufts.  This year to her great pleasure she was awarded an honorary degree at Tufts where her remarks on the role of the artist in society elicited praise from the graduation keynote speaker who led a standing ovation for her.  

As a young artist, mentored by well-known local artist Edna Hibel who ran several galleries in Boston and elsewhere, Nancy learned the “business” of art—finding funding, designing, completing, placing and delivering art. During this time she became interested in bronze sculpture and began to create bronzes both large and small.  

Schön began to see her art more in terms of specific places — site specific locations that helped tell the story the art presents. Because sculpture is three dimensional, Schön is especially interested in the interaction of visitors with the art.  Animals have often figured in her art because they can engage viewers and help convey the story.  

The idea for the ducklings sculpture came from a friend walking through the Public Garden with her son.  Another friend made an introduction to Robert McClosky, author of the famous children’s book. Eventually he agreed to the project on the promise that it would never be replicated.  The vast work of raising funds, obtaining permission to locate the sculpture on public land, design details, casting process and placement (including 500 authentic cobblestones), began;  eventually the Ducklings became a beloved and famous asset to Boston. Some years later, Nancy learned how art can be an instrument of international relations.  A visit to the Public Garden by First Lady Barbara Bush and the First Lady of the Soviet Union, Raisa Gorbachev, led to the idea of a second casting of the ducklings to reside in Moscow.  McClosky relented on his strict rule about a copy and the project, after surmounting enormous challenges, became part of the Summit ceremonies for the crucial START Treaty to reduce strategic armaments.  The sculpture was presented as a gift on behalf the children of the U.S. to the children of the USSR — “duckling diplomacy” as someone called the project. 

Schön’s art has long been focused on story-telling and now she believes it is all the more important to express her views of the times we are living through.  “My feeling,” she says, “is that artists have an obligation to tell the truth with their art — their particular truth.  We need to leave a footprint on the history of art … hopefully we have an honest rendition” of the current affairs being witnessed.  

Her most recent exhibit, held at her Newton studio at the end of June, exemplified this effort to tell her truth. Working in many different media, not just bronze, Schön’s new sculptures range from beautiful to shocking.  A tear slides down the cheek of a quiet bronze face. On another table, a bronze boot tromps forward, crushing a nightingale, the national bird of Ukraine. The toe of the boot opens into the fierce fangs and jaws of a bear.  “I’m old enough to remember when Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia,” she explains.  “At the movies, newsreels showed lines and lines of soldiers’ boots marching. I’ve never forgotten that.” She felt compelled to use the image when Russia invaded Ukraine.  

Many different materials are used in the new pieces, Schön explains, because “bronze takes a long time,” and the times call for swifter rendition.  As a child she loved to make dioramas. Using all kinds of “junk” from her studio she could work very fast and create something to show more quickly. In one piece, a fence separates immigrant parents from children some of whom are trying to scale the barrier. The small figurines came from an online supplier. Another piece depicts six of the Supreme Court justices wearing hooded robes like the Ku Klux Klan.  She notes she was thinking about Citizens United, the Roe V. Wade decision, and the ruling about presidential immunity from illegal acts while in office.  

Schön explains that she feels everyone has different sides, sometimes whimsical, sometimes childlike, sometimes charming, and also sometimes very serious. Right now, she says, “It’s very important to me to echo what I see and feel — the terrible times we are in.  [I see] … the devastation of diplomacy, our government, the Constitution.”  She feels a need to share “my truth — if you disagree, fine; it’s hard to speak up and we can agree to disagree, but we have an obligation to speak up.”   

When will her next exhibit take place?  The answer is uncertain; but we can be sure that Nancy Schön will continuing offering her truth to the world. 

Judy Wagner lives in Northfield.