History of the St. George Serbian Orthodox Church
Building of the St. George Church
Church Architecture
The Iconostas (Altar Screen)
David Ericson
History of the St. George Serbian Orthodox Church
At the turn of the twentieth century, the steel industry and the railroad emerged in the Duluth area. The upcoming opportunity for employment attracted many Serbian immigrants to this area where they settled in Gary, West Duluth, and the surrounding communities. They came from many parts of the Old Country: Hercegovina, Crna Gora, Lika, Banija, Kordun, Bosnia, Dalmacija, Serbia, etc.
Prior to 1910, most of these first settlers were single men or men who had left their families back in Europe. Between 1910 and 1920, many of the men brought their families to the United States, while others sent for their sweethearts who had been left behind. Still others were introduced to sisters and other relatives of the Serbian men they met here in Duluth. The number of families increased. Women and children changed the monotony of man's single life. The social life, the cultural life, and more importantly, the religious life, became whole, and the process of adjustment to a new environment was accelerated.
Serbian pioneers in Duluth (as everywhere) were hard working men. In return for the hospitality they enjoyed in the “New World,” they contributed to America their best talents: “Their brawny arms and stout hearts,” perseverance, diligence, and honesty.
They loved their adopted country, but never forgot their native land. The nostalgia for their fatherland never abandoned them nor left their minds. This was especially evident in 1917 when a great number of Serbian volunteers in Duluth (under American and Serbian flags) left their families and friends here, eager to cross the Atlantic to defend their beloved Serbia and Crna Gora.
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Building of the St. George Church
As with most Serbian settlements in America, the pioneers faced many problems in their new environment. Among these was the problem of organizing a church - a problem that demanded immediate action and solution.
Until this time, Duluth Serbs were without their own church or priest. For their spiritual needs, they depended upon missionary priests like Fr. Danilo Kozomora or neighboring priests from Chisholm: Fr. Steven Bozickovich, Fr. Dushan Rogich, Fr. Dushan Trbuhovich, and others. These priests would occasionally come and hold services, for the most part, in private homes.
The need for a church was obvious. Several meetings were held to inspire people, though a number of them were unproductive. One of the meetings was held in the home of Mr. Nikcevich in 1916 under the guidance of Father Kozomora. Another was in the home of Nikola Okash. Unfortunately, the minutes of these first meetings have been lost or destroyed. Thus, we depend on the reminiscences of our pioneers.
In 1923, Father Vladimir Porobich arrived in Duluth and assumed the responsibilities of parish priest, serving as the guiding spirit in spurring the congregation to build a new church.
There are no records of any church income prior to May 1923. The first treasurer's book was established in that month and showed an income for May of $278.
After much discussion regarding the building site for a new church, the corner of 104th Avenue West and Gary Street was selected. The majority of the congregation decided at that time that the church would be dedicated to St. George.
The dedication of the Church Grounds took place August 12, 1923, with Father Porobich, Father Peter Stijacich, and Father Dushan Trbuhovich officiating. On that day, donations by members and friends amounted to $2,375. These gifts came not only from our own Serbian people, but also from our Russian and Romanian families. By this time the plans for the church were completed. The architects were Giliuson and Ellingsen; general contractor was John DeNert. Construction progressed rapidly. The basement was excavated, and the cornerstone was laid September 30, 1923, with Archimandrite Mardary Uskokovich and Father Porobich officiating. Nikola Colich was "Kum", and the donations of the day were $1,061.18.
The bells were purchased and installed in 1924. Although not noted in church records, but relayed through remembrances, the Kumovi for the blessing of the bells are believed to be Jovo Dosan, Gavre Pilipovich, and Gavre Milkovich.
It is not clear from church records neither when the church was completed nor when the first Divine Liturgy was celebrated in the new building. Consecration of the new church was postponed until August 23, 1942. Bishop Dionisije, assisted by Fr. George Milosavljevich, officiated. Kumovi were Rade and Pava Ralich. Church Board President was Paul Igich.
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Church Architecture
Among Serbian churches in America, erected in the period between the two World Wars, the St. George church, from an architectural point of view, is one of the most beautiful achievements. A combination of Serbian, Roman, and Byzantine styles, St. George is domed, a form unique to the eastern tradition. It symbolizes heaven, and the idea of God coming to man. In the western tradition there is a very different philosophy. Western churches have spires reaching up to the ceiling and heaven; man is reaching for God. Christ is the traditional icon in the dome, looking down upon the people. The floor of the church is symbolic of earth. In the apse, behind the altar, and the area between earth and heaven, there is an icon of the Incarnation. This is symbolic of the union between heaven and earth when Christ became man. In the back of the church we notice there is a separate room or Narthex. In early Christian practice, this area was assigned to the catechumens, those who were not yet baptized.
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The Iconostas (Altar Screen)
The Iconostas at St. George is the design of Mirko Yaradich, and is composed of twenty-four icons, these being the work of David Ericson, a Swedish-born artist who, on account of his artistic achievements, captured international recognition, and is considered to be one of the most poetic American painters of the early twentieth century. The Tweed Museum in Duluth has the most extensive collection of Ericson’s work, though our Iconostas, at a cost of just over $4,000, was his largest compilation and last completed project. Our Iconostas, consecrated on August 11, 1946, remains a rare and valuable treasure. Kumovi for the consecration were Risto Vukosav and Ljubica (Lillian) Colich.
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David Ericson (Axel David Eriksson)
In 1872 a Swedish family, named Ericson, arrived in Duluth from the small town of Motala in the province of Ostergotland (Finberg). While the father went to Dakota searching for work, three-year old David stayed at home with his mother and four brothers. At the age of seven, David discovered the pleasure of creative work. He would mold animals out of the clumps of red clay that frequently made their way from the shores of Park Point to his family’s doorstep on Lake Avenue. This early interest in animals marked his later study of art strongly; for years he painted animals in preference to humans or landscapes (Finberg).
In the following years, tragedy would strike the Ericson family on more than one occasion. When David was eight years old, his older brother died. One year later, David became ill, an affliction in his right knee. For the next two years, David stayed in his bed.
During that time, his interest in art grew. He drew, painted, and modeled animals and cut them out of paper; whole circus parades of animals lined the counterpane. Always he managed to keep this pastime between himself and pain (Finberg). One young lady, Miss Emily, would visit David frequently, encouraging his talent for art by giving him lessons in watercolor and giving him a box of paints. She would take him to her home in New London where David saw his first prints by the great artists, and was allowed to ride horses.
During the nights in his bedroom, David would wriggle out of bed and crawl to the window. In his article, Ericson: Duluth’s Revered Painter, Earl Finberg captures the scene:
…(he would) raise the shade and look out at the still wild landscape under the light of the moon, and life became romance: the houses became temples and the scene an enchantment. In some of his simplest canvases, the painter later recaptured this sense of wonder at the world lighted by the moon. If the scene is in Venice, the mood is still the same.
At the age of eleven, David’s leg was amputated. Soon, however, he regained his strength and health, and was able to enjoy the outdoors once again.
At 16, David completed his first canvas, “Salting the Sheep”, which won him a gold medal at the Minnesota State Fair. He would later win awards at showings from St. Louis to New York to Paris.
When he was eighteen, David moved to New York where he would study and teach art while earning a living as an illustrator for magazines and designing for Tiffany’s jewelry. His studio was located in a sort of Latin quarter for artists, writers, and sculptors. One of his frequent visitors, then making $7 a week as a staff writer for the New York Tribune, would drop in for prolonged stays of one week or longer, giving him time to write short stories. The visitor was Stephen Crane. The story he wrote in Ericson’s studio was “The Red Badge of Courage.”
In the years to come, David traveled to Belgium, Switzerland, Spain, Italy, and Paris, studying under the greatest artists of that time, perfecting his use of colors and the stroke of his brush, but always returning to Duluth where he had family and friends (Finberg). In 1903, he married Susan Barnard in Duluth and moved to New York where he started his own family. Today, an original David Ericson painting can sell for over $20,000.
Finberg wrote the following after an interview with Ericson in July of 1946, just months before his sudden death, and shortly after gracing Saint George with his stunning impressions.
David Ericson has experimented with every form of art expression, believing that the more he cultivated his mind, the greater would be the appeal of his canvases.
It is not the brutal effects of bright sunlight, nor the too vehement brilliance of colors, that David Ericson loves, but rather the languor of grays and violets, gentle envelopments by veils of mist, scenes of serenity and calm.
One might imagine that the painter had led a tranquil life, replete with comfort, sheltered from care. The facts of his early life come then as a rude jolt, but stay to testify to his courage and the cheerfulness of his philosophy.
He has no patience with vulgarity in painting, and for him any crudeness in conception or execution is vulgar.
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