The artist, the late John DeCuir Sr., was a three‑time Academy Award–winning production designer whose work shaped some of the most iconic visual worlds in Hollywood. He also recreated the original artwork for Disney’s Hall of Presidents, leading a team that produced more than 85 paintings of historical signifi-cance—some mural‑sized—for the attraction’s filmed sequences. Today, his Burden of War hangs in the Disneyland Opera House alongside Herb Ryman’s Presidential Campaign, greeting guests before Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln.

Measuring roughly 5 by 14 feet, this recreation of Emanuel Leutze’s famous painting captures the drama and symbolism of Washington’s Christmas crossing that renewed the cause of liberty at a time of profound uncertainty. It is both faithful to the original and unmistakably cinematic, composed with the eye of a pro-duction designer who understood how images must move, breathe, and invite an audience inside.

To give the work context: when asked what I do, I often say—half seriously—that I “copy things”: the Ro-man Forum, Cleopatra’s Alexandria, the Sistine Chapel, the Titanic Underwater, the Statue of Liberty. Copy-ing, in our cinematic world, is not duplication but world‑building. It is how we reconstruct environments for storytelling.
This painting belongs to that lineage. It was created for a proposed pavilion attraction celebrating the American Adventure, beginning in the colonial era and moving through defining moments of the nation’s history. The opening sequence centered on Washington’s crossing. The accompanying black‑and‑white sketches in our archive show how the painting was designed to dissolve from projected imagery into di-mensional scenery and ultimately into live performers, with the audience rotating on a circular turntable. It was part of a “come‑to‑life” test—another step in the long arc from prehistoric cave walls to the speculative holodeck.
This history is why we are building the John DeCuir Production Design Study Center at Asbury University, where more than 6,000 drawings, renderings, scripts, and artifacts now document Hollywood’s Golden Age of narrative copying practices—an era that seeded both classic cinema and the birth of Disneyland.
Which brings us to the question: what should become of this painting? Our intention is to restore it to its original visual potency and use it as the spearhead for a curated exhibition introducing audiences to the history of narrative cinematic art, coming to life. This traveling show would highlight the host gallery’s pro-gramming while building tax‑deductible sponsorship and grant support for the Study Center’s educational mission. Supporting George’s crossing would be other collectibles including Cleopatra’s Black Pyramid, The Titanic Under Water, Michealangelo’s Sistine Chapel & Hitchcock’s Statue of Liberty.
As the nation enters the second half of its 250th‑anniversary observance, we believe this painting—“George,” as we’ve come to call him—offers a timely opportunity to illuminate both the American Adven-ture and the broader cultural legacy of cinematic design.
With appreciation,
 
John DeCuir
John DeCuir Production Design Study Center
Asbury University