“Aesthetic Realism ruined my childhood”

by Gerri-Ellen Harmon, February 2011

     I am writing my story of how Aesthetic Realism was in my life as a young person and how detrimental and painful my childhood was until I was able to break away from it in my early twenties.  After all these years I feel compelled to share this with others so that they can avoid the pain and suffering I experienced. 

     My parents belonged to this cult beginning in 1947 and continuing until the 1980’s.  All the members denied it was a cult, but it was marked by hero worship of the founder, Eli Siegel.  Aesthetic Realists were known for making outrageous, all encompassing statements such as, “Eli Siegel is greater than Jesus and his body of work is greater than the Bible.”

     I was subjected to this environment starting at the age of two.  I was made to believe that Aesthetic Realism was the answer to all the world’s problems and that I was a member of an elite group.  We never were friendly with outsiders and I never felt I could be myself, have relationships with friends at school, or do any of the normal things that children do.  Because of Aesthetic Realism I watched as my parents broke off relationships with their families, ceasing to have any contact with them.  The group leaders told us that our families were poison and we had to stay away from them because they would taint our enthusiasm for the philosophy.  Years later I re-met some first cousins on my father’s side and they told me how sad they were that we were not in their lives.

     Life in Aesthetic Realism meant 3-4 classes per week where Siegel lectured on literature and poetry from the AR point of view.  My parents would take us to lessons with Eli Siegel on the weekend where family matters were discussed.  We never knew what mood Siegel would be in and it was hard to decide what to say because we were alternately berated for being too sad (because Aesthetic Realism was supposed to be the answer to happiness, and if we weren’t happy it meant we weren’t grateful to Siegel),  or too happy (because we shouldn’t act as if everything was perfect because if we did we weren’t grateful to Siegel for answering our life questions)!  Needless to say the anxiety before a lesson was palpable.  You just prayed that Eli Siegel would be in a good mood and that we wouldn’t be attacked.  Since my parents were privy to the same criticism they didn’t protect me.  The adults in AR aired all their problems in front of their children, robbing us of our childhood.

     When I was in junior high I was voted Teenager of the Month.  The school newspaper interviewed me and I mentioned Aesthetic Realism as a hobby because I didn’t know how to explain it any other way.  When I showed the article to Eli Siegel he berated me for being “ambitious,” and said I was putting myself above the philosophy.  Again, my parents didn’t protect me.  I was thirteen years old.  From that time forward I was made to believe that any of my accomplishments were not mine but belonged to Aesthetic Realism and Eli Siegel.  I grew up lonely, feeling separate from others because of this weird thing in my life thrust upon me in which I had no choice. A counselor told me 45 years later that I had been depressed since that time in my life.

     The atmosphere around the Aesthetic Realism Foundation was dysfunctional.  I was required to invite people to the Terrain Gallery where programs were held to introduce people to the philosophy.  If a small amount of people showed up it was our fault and we had to break out into smaller groups and discuss why we weren’t getting more people to come there.  I also had to stand on street corners and give out flyers about the programs at the Gallery.  Or we would camp out at the entrance to the New York Times (a favorite target of AR) and protest unfair treatment of Eli Siegel.

     Another area that was truly dysfunctional was on Siegel’s notoriety.  He had some renown but wanted more.  He never gained acceptance by his peers in the literary world because he shunned the establishment (he was really a recluse) and never acquired a college degree.  The strange thing was that ES expected his “students” to be responsible for having him and his philosophy known.  Again, the idea was that if we were grateful to Eli Siegel and Aesthetic Realism we would make it known.  As a young person all this weighed heavily on me and was a burden I carried around for years even after I left the group.

     In college I wrote a paper about the opposites in dance and presented it at the Terrain Gallery.  At the time, I considered it one of the best things I had ever done.  Eli Siegel praised me but other members were jealous and the atmosphere was hostile.  I also choreographed an evening of dance and poetry for my master’s thesis at Columbia University. I tried to be a good little Aesthetic Realist but the craziness of the environment ran counterproductive to the goal.   There were the “in-people” who Siegel praised and favored.  This gave them the power to criticize others and be in control, mirroring ES.  You could never do enough or say enough to stay in Siegel’s or these privileged people’s good graces.  The balance of power was constantly shifting and people spent a lot of time making sure they were in the in-crowd.

     I was engaged to someone in the cult mainly because my parents would never allow me to marry someone from the outside.  I got pregnant and we married early. I was concerned about my young son when I realized that he was showing signs of stress by being in the AR environment. He had a lesson with Eli Siegel at the age of two.  I could only imagine the unspoken pain and confusion it caused him.

     The marriage was a sham.  My husband was not ready for a wife and child and we divorced when our son was three.  Divorce was the greatest sin a person could commit in Aesthetic Realism because the philosophy was supposed to be the answer for all problems in marriage. I left the cult on my own without encouragement or support.  My sister threatened me at that time that if I didn’t stay in the cult I would never dance again or worse go crazy because I supposedly knew more through AR than any psychologist out there.  Her style was like the serpent in the Garden of Eden:  sly, vicious and deadly.   I met her on the street after this and she instructed her daughter who was four years old not to talk to me.  That was funny because Aesthetic Realism is supposed to be the ultimate way for people to learn to be kind to one another. My sister’s maliciousness was characteristic of people studying AR. I’ve never seen anyone change for the better in Aesthetic Realism.  My sister has been in AR for over sixty years and seems to be the same as she was back then.

     When my son was five I married a good man not in the cult and we moved to Texas.  My parents were angry with me for leaving NY and the cult.  They would get the whole family on the phone and rip me to shreds on a routine basis.  They told me if I didn’t come back into the cult, I would go crazy.  I began having anxiety attacks knowing these phone calls were coming and there was nothing I could do about it.  In the AR environment I had never rebelled as a teenager and didn’t know how to stand up for myself.  It took me quite a while to realize that without AR I was doing just fine and nothing terrible was going to happen to me.  The pain I suffered at the hands of Eli Siegel and the Foundation is regrettable and I’m sure has been multiplied many times over by other people in the same situation. 

     I started an Aesthetic Realism Study Group in Texas, trying to make sense of my past and the guilt I was made to feel.  Interestingly enough no one from the Foundation gave me encouragement even though I would send letters telling of my success in “having Aesthetic Realism known.”  You’d think since their mantra was having Aesthetic Realism known they would have encouraged me.  This is another example of the dysfunctional environment.

     I didn’t hear from my parents for 6-7 years.  They finally came to visit in Texas after making plans 3-4 times and canceling the night before.  The Foundation never smiled on anyone who dared leave NYC, even for just a visit someplace else.  Visiting me was an AR crime.   I saw professional actors in Aesthetic Realism criticized for taking roles on Broadway or in summer stock out of town.  Siegel always had to have control over his flock.

     My father died a month later in 1977 and I remember being grateful that I had seen him and things were better between us.  I went to New York for the funeral, which surprised my mother.  I don’t think with all her Aesthetic Realism education she really knew who I was.  Going to my father’s funeral is what a loving daughter does.  The Aesthetic Realists had a plan for me back in NY.  They kept me away from my mother so I wouldn’t “pollute” her and manipulated me from further contact with her by making me get into a taxi with two other members while my mom was escorted to another taxi or separating me from sitting with her in the synagogue while I was holding her hand.  It was so clear to me having been away from Aesthetic Realism for six years that I did a good thing by leaving the cult.

     Then I didn’t hear from my mother for 6 more years.  She came back in my life suddenly in 1983 without too much explanation.  She didn’t want to talk about Aesthetic Realism and I imagined that there was a rift and she left the cult.  She moved to Texas and we had 6 years together before she died of emphysema.  I took care of her during her last year and it was our best time together.  My sister knew that my mother was suffering but she never showed any concern.  The one time Alice did talk to our mother by phone Alice wound up yelling at her, making her cry.  Alice did not try to contact my mother again or take a hand in caring for her before she died a year later in 1989.  She did not come to the funeral but a few months later I got a coy letter from her asking for my father’s journals.  That was just so typical.  

     I suffered needlessly as a child and who can say how much better my life would have been without Aesthetic Realism.  It took me years to shake off the guilt and become a whole, healthy human being.  The Foundation is still trying to have this philosophy known but their numbers are dwindling, as they should be.  I hope my story will encourage others to tell theirs and avoid the pain I suffered.

Reader comments about this article

Your cousin

by Rona cole (Schumann), Jun. 27, 2012  11:00

Hi Gerri-Ellen

I was surprised to find your article. I would love to talk to you about all this sometime. I remember when your mom came to visit my mom before she died. She told my mother that her cancer was caused by the evils in her life. She wrote her a letter later that I never showed to mom. We always spoke of aesthetic realism as a cult. I remember my dad saying you were all crazy. Poor grandma. She was so confused by it all.

I did see Alice a couple of years ago when she was in Los Angeles. We connected because of breast cancer. But when I went to new York and contacted her she didn't have time to see me. I also chat with Judy on rare occasions. She did come to visit me about 5 years ago before she got married. I would love to chat with you and reconnect. It is so sad that AR kept our families apart for so many years.

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