Raised on the Upper West Side of New York City, daughter of a Jewish mother and Anglican father, both non-practicing, I was introduced to religion later in life.
As it happened, following graduation from university, I signed on to spend a year at a Benedictine abbey in New England (in a town aptly called Bethlehem)! Not only home to a community of nuns, this was also a working farm of some 450 acres.
Working alongside and learning from the nuns, I was exposed to the faith via osmosis. As a shepherd’s assistant, I passed several icy January nights during lambing season by witnessing the miracle of birth and learning how to make preserves, bringing jam forth from the fruit I had helped to pick the previous summer. I milked a cow, appreciating the origin of my butter, cheese, and milk.
Mass was every morning, and Vespers closed each day with a half-hour of Psalms sung by the nuns in Gregorian chant, a mystical, meditative time to sit and become enveloped by the gently penetrating tones. The abbey’s program was designed to go through a four-season cycle so to have the fullest possible experience. It was with this excellent foundation in the faith that, years later, I would decide to enter the Catholic Church.
Only then did I learn that the Mass I had experienced at the abbey was known as a “Traditional Latin” Mass, and it was in fact very different from the Novus Ordo (The New Mass). The latter had come into being only during the 1960s as a result of the Second Vatican Council, and it represented a total re-orientation from what the faithful had previously known. The language of the prayers, for example, was no longer Latin but in the vernacular (while homilies had always been given in the latter). Many beautiful church interiors were stripped bare of decoration, and, most notably, the placement of the altar and the priest was dramatically changed. For many cradle Catholics, such as my husband, the New Mass was an upheaval.
When we moved to France, we sought and eventually found a Traditional Latin Mass at Saint-Michel-des-Andaines, a small country church with a growing community in which we sing the Gregorian chants. In this series of photographs, I have endeavored to convey the deep beauty of the Mass as it has been celebrated virtually unchanged for more than 1,500 years. Our days are shaped by the rhythmic cycle of the liturgical year, which brings a sense of deep inner peace in this crazy world.











