Olin Arts Center – News

Campus Construction Update: Sept. 22, 2022

Doug Hubley — Wed, 21 Sep 2022 11:47:56 +0000

After more than a year of renovation that has redefined Dana Hall’s role in science education at �ֲ��ý, the building formally reopened with a celebration on Aug. 29.

“It is kind of spectacular, the transformation that has been accomplished over a fairly brief time — it really is brief, when you consider the scope of the work,” Malcolm Hill, vice president for academic affairs and dean of the faculty, told the gathering.

That transformation rendered Dana’s interior infinitely more user-friendly, replacing a dim and labyrinthine interior with bright surfaces, long sightlines, and cheerful student spaces. And the project broadened Dana’s academic mission from a singular focus on chemistry to introductory chem and biology, with a side order of three active-learning classrooms suitable for any subject.

Shear excitement: On the brink of the Aug. 29 ribbon-cutting that formally opened Dana Hall are, from left, Geoff Swift, vice president for finance and administration and treasurer; President Clayton Spencer; and Malcolm Hill, vice president of academic affairs and dean of the faculty. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

A fume hood in a first-floor chemistry lab in Dana Hall stands next to a window revealing an associated classroom. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Chris Streifel, the �ֲ��ý Facility Services senior project manager who has overseen the renovation of Dana Hall and other high-profile construction projects in recent years, climbs a Dana stairway during the Aug. 29 reopening. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

A corner office in Dana Hall. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

President Clayton Spencer and Hoi Ning Ngai, associate director of the Center for Purposeful Work, pass a third-floor study room during the Aug. 29 reopening reception for Dana Hall. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Dana Hall shown from Alumni Walk on Sept. 14, a week into the 2022–2023 academic year. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Both academically and socially, in other words, the renovated Dana is now a place for all �ֲ��ý students.

“That is all due to the hard work of many, including our design and construction partners and the brilliant �ֲ��ý facilities team,” Hill told the Aug. 29 gathering. Like the rest of campus, Dana opened for the academic year the week of Labor Day.

Dana made his fortune in part through investing in the production of the universal joint — not a populist cannabis product.

Also speaking at the event, as well as joining Hill in a ritual ribbon-cutting, were �ֲ��ý President Clayton Spencer and Geoff Swift, vice president for finance and administration and the college’s treasurer.

Spencer offered a concise history of Dana, which was dedicated in 1965 and named for lead donor Charles A. Dana, who was a kind of Johnny Appleseed of campus construction at a variety of schools. (We learned later that Dana made his fortune in part through investing in the production of the universal joint — not a populist cannabis product, but an industrially vital mechanical device often seen spinning underneath box trucks.)

This image captured through a door into Dana Hall’s chemical prep room exemplifies the way design firm Payette has brought natural light more deeply into the building. Visible through the windows is Alumni Walk. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Swift, meanwhile, thanked the many parties whose efforts made the Dana renovation a reality, including �ֲ��ý’ capital projects staff, construction management company Consigli, the project designers of Boston architectural firm Payette, and many more.

Thirty or 40 people attended the afternoon gathering, which began at Dana’s Alumni Walk entrance with a supply of Dining Services treats close by. Most of the scheduled two hours was allotted simply for folks to wander through the building.

Many who were familiar with Dana were “kind of shocked,” in a good way, by the results of the makeover, says Chris Streifel, who has overseen the renovation as a senior project manager for �ֲ��ý.

Karen Chen ’26 of Brooklyn, N.Y., studies in Dana Hall’s first-floor “living room,” which affords dramatic views of Alumni Walk and Commons. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

“A large number of people had never been in Dana before, too, were just impressed with what they found, not even knowing what the transformation really meant. So I think that my biggest takeaway was just the gratification of [observing] people see what I have seen, which is a much different building now, and for the better.”

Indeed, there’s a lot to admire in the new Dana, from banks of state-of-the art lab equipment to preserved remnants of past construction techniques to unprogrammed student spaces of a kind increasingly considered essential to student success.

Jay Burns, �ֲ��ý Communications editorial director, took a moment to talk with architect Michael Hinchcliffe about the thinking behind those student spaces. Hinchcliffe, a principal at Payette, was the lead architect of the Dana project as well as the Bonney Science Center, which opened last year. (Both projects, as well as Carnegie Science Hall, are part of a strategic reconfiguration of �ֲ��ý science facilities.)

Facing Dana Hall’s second-floor lobby from �ֲ��ý’ Center for Inclusive Teaching and Learning. A key goal of the Dana renovation was to brighten and open up the building’s dim, convoluted interior. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Hinchcliffe pointed to a significant difference in emphasis between Dana and Bonney. The latter, he explained, was designed in large part to create “advanced scientific environments in an undergraduate setting.” But the new Dana — originally Dana Chemistry Hall — was reinvented largely to appeal to a broad swath of users and to take advantage of its central location on Alumni Walk.

Central to that objective are features such as glass-walled study rooms, furniture casually sited along public ways, and an inviting “living room” with fab views of Alumni Walk. (But note that this point of contrast between Dana and Bonney isn’t absolute. Bonney’s two-story, glass-walled Beacon lounge is also meant to draw users from across campus.)

Consultations with the campus community during the design phase revealed that �ֲ��ý students, like their peers elsewhere, seek out seemingly random seating for myriad purposes — for solitude, for a quiet conversation, for a perch to munch a power bar between commitments.

A view from Dana Hall’s first-floor lobby toward the Alumni Walk entrance. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

“That was in the back of our minds for spaces like this,” Hinchcliffe said. “Most campus buildings from the ’50s [onward] even into the ’80s were over-programmed. Everything was super efficient. They didn’t have this little bit of extra space for students.

“Buildings like Dana and Bonney can offer a type of ‘third space.’ So if you’re working on a problem set or on a project with some peers, you can come to a place like this and work in a way that’s different from someone’s dorm room or a classroom. It’s a little bit more public“ — which can afford a sense of security when people don’t know each other well — “yet it still provides a focus, and quiet, and resources like whiteboards and monitors.”

Such places can nurture a sense of belonging, Hinchcliffe continued. According to “a fair amount of literature on modeled behavior and territoriality, students tend to find a place their freshman or their sophomore year that they feel comfortable in. And they’ll tend to go back there, and they also tend to create communities of ‘Oh, yeah, I always see someone else studying there, so it’s okay for me to study there.”

Are we there yet? Oftentimes, says Streifel, there’s a comfortable interval between the actual end of construction on a major project and its ceremonial conclusion. So in terms of readiness and presentability, “the shine is already on the apple at that point.”

Dana 119, originally built as a lecture hall with a raked floor, is now a lab for teaching introductory chemistry. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

In the case of Dana, though, “we were really polishing it right up to the very end.”

And even now there’s some work to do. (By way of perspective, some punch list items across campus at the Bonney Center weren’t cleared until this summer.)

There are subtle finishing touches to Dana’s mechanical, electrical, and plumbing systems remaining — the kind of things that someone can do before classes start for the day. The casework contractor paid a few evening visits last week to discipline some balky drawer slides. Prior to that, there was late-arriving door glass to install.

In the longer term, the tardy autoclave that we mentioned last time will arrive in time for installation during October break, as will some water purification equipment and additional casework. And, as we’ve written before, it takes four seasons to fine-tune a new HVAC system. Streifel himself has a lot of desk work still to do in closing out contracts, etc.

An active-learning classroom in the newly renovated Dana Hall. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

But with Aug. 29 receding in the rearview mirror, he says, “it’s just a relief to be at the tail end of a significant project that was full of challenges and unknowns. And to be able to take something right at the core of the campus, and do a very significant renovation, and turn it back over to its intended use on schedule and on budget, is always a very good deal.”

Chasm Hall: You could say — in fact, we actually are saying — that a recent theme for the Chase Hall renovation has been “holes.”

This Sept. 16 image shows the void left by the removal of two concrete floor slabs in Chase Hall. Temporarily a room with a view, the reception area for the Office of Intercultural Education appears slightly above center. (Courtesy of Consigli Construction)

If you passed the building via Campus Avenue last week, you might have seen a big old hole right in front of the entrance near the Chase–Carnegie Science courtyard. The bottom of the pit had been lined with gravel and was being compacted in preparation for concrete. Along one end of the pit, a partial retaining wall had been placed and a rodbuster was wiring up rebar in anticipation of the next pour.

Here a ramp will be built to carry visitors down into Chase’s new main lobby. But before that happens, walls lining the public sidewalk to either side of the ramp location will be started, with bench seats molded right into the concrete.

Other holes could be found inside Chase. There was a pretty good one inside that same main entrance, as the stairs and the landing outside Skelton and Hirasawa lounges had been demolished. One could look straight down from the second floor to ground level.

Where people using this Chase Hall entrance previously climbed some steps to enter the building, the renovation will provide an accessible ramp here that descends gently from street level into the ground floor. Here, workers are preparing the site for the new construction. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

A second-floor window affords a view of site work in front of Chase Hall. A new ramp descending from street level will serve one of two rebuilt Campus Avenue entrances. Note the glossy marine clay around the excavation. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Three separate rooms are being joined to form a student activity space on Chase Hall’s second floor. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

If you came up to Chase Hall’s first floor from the ground level last week, this view of the lobby is what greeted you. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Stockpiled building materials and new ceilings on the second floor. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

This wall in Chase Hall’s lobby will accommodate, at left behind the chair, a door leading to OIE prayer rooms and other first-floor facilities; and, at right, access to a major stairway connecting the building’s three main levels. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

The former College Store looking toward the entrance and Chase Hall’s ground-level lobby. Between the camera and the red-brick columns, offices for Campus Life and a community service program will be placed. The space beyond the brick columns will become a student lounge. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Chase Hall Lounge, minus a wall. Note the familiar fireplace at left. The yellow doorway at center shows the location of a new main stairway that will connect all levels of Chase Hall. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

A “rodbuster” wires up rebar in preparation for the placement of a concrete retaining wall at what was once Chase Hall’s primary Campus Avenue entrance. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

But the biggest and best hole was in the area behind Chase Lounge. Once a zone of student arts clubs and before them, Dining Services facilities, it’s the future location of stairs and an elevator. In the past weeks the concrete first- and second-floor slabs had been removed, leaving something like a messy atrium.

But how is a floor slab removed safely? “The concrete slabs were demolished via a robotic electric concrete-cutting saw,” explained Mike Carpentier, Chase project superintendent for Consigli Construction, the firm managing the project for �ֲ��ý.

“The rails for the saw are bolted to the slab and it travels on them to make the cuts. This allows the pieces to be dropped to the floor below without workers being in the area. When workers were in the area to move the saw along to the location of the next cut, they were tied off via safety harnesses to the steel structure above.”

Chase Hall Lounge, now missing a wall. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

We gawked at this spectacle (and looked around for a concession stand) while �ֲ��ý project manager Kristi Mynhier, our tour guide, discussed sprinkler-pipe placement with master plumber Chris Becker, who stood on the far side of the chasm. We expected to hear echoes.

But this man-made wonder of the world won’t be around long. Footings and the foundation for the new stairway and elevator will be placed during the next month.

In previous Chase reporting we’ve mentioned a series of “surprises,” building conditions not shown in old plans or other records. These have been good for Campus Construction Update (yay, sources of dramatic tension that we didn’t have to contrive!) — but not so much for the people actually doing the construction, who have had to scramble to accommodate things like unanticipated hazardous materials and undocumented structural elements.

New door frames, electrical rough-ins, and ceilings on the second floor. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Well, here’s an example of the scrambling. Mynhier says that new emphasis is being given to mechanical, electrical, and plumbing rough-ins — in fact, in a change of plan, MEP crews will have to work on multiple floors at the same time so the Chase project can be finished by the stipulated date.

“With all of these unforeseen issues that we encountered while we were demoing and exposing the existing structure, it pushed the schedule so that we had to resequence, and the MEP rough-ins became the critical path” — the sequence of jobs that have priority.

“So we actually had to make sure the crews could increase their size in order to do both the first floor rough-in and the second floor rough-in at the same time to keep us on schedule.”

At least, Mynhier says, “I think we’ve uncovered all the surprises now, thankfully.” And the construction team for Chase’s next renovation — 100 years from now? — will be able to refer to the 360-degree construction images, many of them in-wall, that the project team is making now.

The Farnsworth Report: Of project manager Paul Farnsworth’s summer responsibilities, Olin Arts Center is where the most work remains to be done. For both the HVAC system replacement and the installation of a new main electrical panel, the arrival of major components has been delayed.

This drone’s-eye view of the Russell Street Track shows the new Mondo track surface in all its ruddy glory. Russell Street itself runs between left and center. (Courtesy of Dave Cleaveland/Maine Imaging)

But the building is running just fine. The 800-amp panel was ordered in January and, says Farnsworth, “we’re still not sure it will arrive by next January.” In the meantime, the current distribution panel (or current current distribution panel — see what we did there?) is fully functional, just old.

As for the HVAC system, still outstanding are chillers that will cool and dehydrate interior air. But rental units are bridging the gap till the permanent units are installed, which is expected by October. System debugging is still in progress, but the rental units have enabled technicians to balance flows within the system, so that important step is done.

Appearing beneath the “�ֲ��ý” in this drone image of the resurfaced Russell Street Track is the water jump for the steeplechase course. (Courtesy of Dave Cleaveland/Maine Imaging)

A view of the new Russell Street Track surface, with Lafayette Street in the background. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Terracotta is the color of the brand-new Mondo surface on the Russell Street Track. While the surface is settling in, the black mat protects it from foot traffic using the soccer field enclosed by the track. The vans in the background are rented by the college for student activities. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

An oblique camera angle turns the Russell Street Track surface into diamonds. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

John Bertram Hall provides a backdrop to the new grandstand at the Campus Avenue Field. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

ADA-compliant access to the new bleachers at the Campus Avenue Field. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

The new bleachers at the Campus Avenue Field. (Doug Hubley/�ֲ��ý College)

Farnsworth also oversaw two high-profile undertakings for �ֲ��ý Athletics during the summer. One is done: the replacement of the Mondo-brand rubber surface on the Russell Street Track. Bobcats in the track and field program will first compete on the new surface next spring.

Finally, over at the Campus Avenue Field, the new permanent bleachers are fully functional but still awaiting the metaphorical cherry on top: a �ֲ��ý-branded awning to cover the platform where photographers and videographers work. That should ship by the end of September.

Can we talk? Campus Construction Update welcomes queries and comments about current, past, future, and current construction at �ֲ��ý. Write to dhubley@bates.edu, putting “Campus Construction” or “Don’t bogart that populist cannabis product, my friend!” in the subject line.

Slideshow: Senior Thesis Exhibition — ‘Our arts students will help show us the way forward’

Mary Pols — Tue, 21 Apr 2020 22:55:20 +0000

For Pamela Johnson, the associate professor of art and visual culture who has guided 15 senior studio art majors through the second half of this year’s thesis process, the work she’s looking at now has proven prescient.

There are echoes of the comforts of home, which many if not most of the students returned to in March, but also dystopian and imagined worlds, disequilibrium and emotional intensity.

“Given the reality we are now living in, the work that our seniors developed and the vision they offer us is even more essential to protecting and celebrating our humanity,” Johnson says. “We need art now more than ever.”

�ֲ��ý Communications multimedia producer Theophil Syslo interviews a range of senior artists to hear them reflect on their artwork, and on creating artwork in an unprecedented time.

Each spring, the Senior Thesis Exhibition opens with fanfare and with hundreds of people walking through the physical space of �ֲ��ý Museum of Art to witness a triumph: the artistic visions of the year’s studio art seniors, now realized through a range of dazzling artwork.

This year, like so many other changes due to the COVID-19 global health crisis, the exhibition is online, featuring images and statements from each senior.

Senior Thesis Exhibition: 5 p.m. Eastern today!
Reflecting and honoring the traditional time of day that a �ֲ��ý Senior Thesis Exhibition would open, this year’s online exhibition goes live at 5 p.m. Eastern time today, April 24.

That means none of the collective experience of walking through a space together, or the “hugs and laughs and tears” that make the museum come alive with ambitions realized and creativity on physical display, says museum director Dan Mills.

In February, Associate Professor of Art and Visual Culture Pamela Johnson, adviser to the Class of 2020 studio art majors, works with her seniors in an Olin Arts Center studio space. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

But it’s been gratifying for him to be part of the team of faculty and staff that expanded the online presentation this year. “We offer our heartfelt congratulations to these artists, and invite others to carefully view, and reach out and congratulate them as well,” Mills says.

The hope is that, as the online exhibition reaches viewers near and far through social media and other means, gestures of congratulation and support will flow digitally to the 15 seniors.

For Carolina González Valencia, the assistant professor of art and visual culture who guided the seniors during the fall semester, it’s been particularly special to witness the upward trajectory of this group of artists, some of whom were in the first class she taught on arriving at �ֲ��ý in 2016, “Drawing and Intention.”

The hands of Celia Feal-Staub ’20 of Putney, Vt., work the potter’s wheel in Olin Arts Center in February. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

She invites the seniors to remember their studios as they were in the first days of classes in 2019, empty and ready for their work.

“Treat the new journeys you will find ahead with the same bravery, excitement, rigor, kindness, and community building as you did while doing these theses,” she says. “Remember, that it is all about practice, and mark by mark you will start to create what leads you ahead.”

Still, what has been undeniably painful is the way this annual process was cut short, Johnson says, when the college quickly moved to remote learning in March.

With little ability to plan, students had to break down their studios and pack up their work, some of it not quite finished, and head home to locations where for many, there could be no dedicated space to create art. (Issues of equity become more readily apparent outside of Olin Arts Center, Johnson noted.)

Some of the seniors’ artwork was damaged in transit. Other pieces had to be left behind altogether.

Grace Smith ’20 of Williamstown, Mass., works on artwork in her Olin Arts Center studio space in February. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

As painful as it has been to know that her students — like all seniors — have lost a piece of their senior year, Johnson hopes they hold on to how they persevered in a time of disruption.

“Our arts students will help show us the way forward.”

“Our students in all the arts at �ֲ��ý are creative and resilient,” Johnson says. “By definition they are great problem solvers. The arts teach you to work devotedly without ever being certain of the outcome.

“Our arts students — our musicians, theater artists, poets, writers, dancers and visual artists — will help show us the way forward, and revive our spirits along the way.”

Ariel Abonizio of Cuiaba, Brazil
“More haunting than ghosts”

“Sometimes, things feel more present when they are gone — a missing family member, an abandoned house, or a single sock without its mate,” says Ariel Abonizio.

Through photographs, videos, and installations, Abonizio attempts to “document what is not there. I make copies of a reality that never truly existed, not even in my dreams — I make unicorns.”

Unicorn Dreams, 2019, inkjet print, 29 x 36 inches, by Ariel Abonizio.

For Abonizio, the things that are not there — such as unicorns — “often resemble apparitions, events from my past that linger on despite not being actually there. When something is forgotten, I can still feel its contours, as something still remains. It is as if silence could be louder than words.”

At other times, the opposite happens. The things that are not there afford a presence that is “unfulfilling and resembles absence. It is like seeing a fake smile or being in a house full of strangers. The moments when presence vanishes and turns to nothing are more haunting than ghosts.”

Mayele Alognon, Louisville, Ky.
“Parts of me are hidden, obscured, or spliced”

“Is there one authentic version of self, or are there multiple — even infinite — versions that are all equally authentic?” asks Mayele Alogon.

Her artwork assumes “that the latter is closer to the truth,” she says. “I am African American. I am female. I am an immigrant. I am a daughter. I am a sister.”

Working from photographs that she takes of herself, Alogon creates nude self-portraits on cardboard, starting with line drawing, then using gouache, an opaque watercolor.��

Black skin on cardboard I, 2019, gouache on cardboard, 35 x 23 inches, by Mayele Alognon.

She finds meaning by using items “that are often thrown out without a second thought. The meaning of a painting can change knowing the previous uses of the surface and its near fate as garbage.”

While wholeness is a major theme of her paintings, she presents her body “in fragments. Parts of me are hidden, obscured, or spliced. In some paintings, it may be difficult to tell where one figure begins and where another ends, because with this multifaceted process comes complexity and ambiguity.”

Celia Feal-Staub of Putney, Vt.
“To experiment with form — and also with collapse”

At first, Celia Feal-Staub was enthralled by the usefulness of the clay objects she created — mugs, bowls, pitchers, jars, plates — and the “complete and utter control” that she had over what emerged from the potter’s wheel.

“I controlled the speed of the wheel, and the pressure of my hand which pushed the clay wall out, creating a different curve each time.” But what, she came to wonder, would it feel like to lose control, “to fully experiment with form— and also with collapse?”

Gut Feeling, 2019, reduction-fired stoneware, various sizes, by Celia Feal-Staub.

She discovered that allowing a loss of control allowed her to open a door. “Rather than barricading emotion out,” she allowed a wider range of feelings to “seep into my work: anxiety and desperation and joy and compassion.”

“With a squeeze of the vessel’s neck, or push to the belly, they take on entirely new forms — perhaps forms of people in love, listening deeply to each other, enveloped in hatred, rejection, longing, acceptance or the lack of it, or empathy.”

Nick Eaton, Lake Oswego, Ore.
“When an effort is made to stop and observe”

Nick Eaton’s digital photographs are creations in more ways than one.

The end product, photographs of striped bass that Eaton caught, is one creation. Another creation are the flies that he hand-ties — using elk and deer hair, rabbit fur, and hen feathers — and uses to catch the fish.

Catch and Release #1, 2019, digital print on luster paper, 13 x 9 inches, by Nick Eaton.

Fishing and photography, he says, have allowed him to “examine my relationship with nature, and the beauty that can be seen when an effort is made to stop and observe.”

He takes his photographs shortly after catching a fish, holding it in the salt water, scales visible to the camera, and keeping its gills submerged to allow the fish to breathe.

“As I stood there in cold, waist-deep water with wet, salty hands trying to get the perfect shot, I admired the sheer magnificence and strength of this fish,” he said. “I work quickly and then release the fish back into the water.”

Fishing and conservationism share a commitment “to ensuring a healthy environment and ecosystem, keeping our rivers running cold, and preserving fish stocks for generations to come.”

Sophie Gerry of Williamstown, Mass.
“My act of remembering”

When Sophie Gerry is working in her Olin Arts Center studio, she’s thinking about home. “How do I perceive, experience, and remember the landscapes I have spent my life in?” she wonders.

Local Landscape 1, 2020, paper and ink, 12 x 7 inches, by Sophie Gerry.

Gerry’s artwork is multidimensional, evoking the woods and mountains surrounding her hometown of Williamstown, Mass., where trails sweep through shaded woods and open meadows and cut across hillsides.

“My memory of those places is strong, though the landscape shifts and evolves with each season,” she says. “Similarly, my perceptions flicker and change over time. The art I make is my act of remembering.”

Using pens, pencils, ink washes, and cut-out shapes on papers of various colors, weights, and textures, Gerry places cutout forms on top of and in front of each other, which has led her to creating paper mobiles.

“Layered images and moving mobiles both ask to be looked at from different angles,” she explains, which “begins to capture the visual experience of moving through a natural setting.”

Emma Blaire Hall of Boise, Idaho
“The messiness of the human experience”

Sculptor E.B. Hall is a “mess-maker,” she says.

Collecting “unwanted, rejected, or forgotten items” like plastic toys, articles of clothing, or even dryer lint, she creates abstract pieces that reflect — or challenge — her own experiences.

Hall counts as an influence the multimedia and performance artist Vanessa German, who exhibited at the Museum of Art in 2019–20.��

Hxmpty Dxmpty, 2020, object sculpture, 62 x 80 x 85 inches, by Emma Blair Hall.

A central piece in Hall’s body of work is an interpretation of the nursery rhyme “Humpty Dumpty.” The massive work incorporates swaths of fabrics, eggshells, dolls, and the limbs of dolls.

“Defining these as lost or found limbs is up to the viewer. Not even the King’s horses or the King’s men can put you back together again,” she says.

“Working with my hands, I am interested in the messiness of the human experience,” she adds. “The themes of my work center around my experiences with the instability in lust, love, death, and life.”

Michael Hogue of Chicago
“See brown and black people for who they are”

Portraits of black and brown faces have often been at best caricature, at worst racist, presenting�� people “as simple-minded and often subjugated,” says Michael Hogue.

“As a black man, I often feel underrepresented throughout daily life. Because of this I strive to activate and challenge the audience not only to confront the art, but the subject as well.”

Untitled, 2020, oil pastel on paper, 12 x 18 inches, by Michael Hogue.

In addition to oil, Hogue’s other drawing media includes pencil, colored pencil, charcoal, and marker. “Working within these constrictions gives the portraits a more realistic feel,” he says, citing Terrance Vann and Christopher Clark as inspirations.

Many of his portraits look directly at the viewer. “This is what I want to challenge the audience with,” he says. “This direct gaze inspires me because it is forcing the audience to confront the subject — almost as if it is a mug shot.”

Fredrick Douglass famously challenged the nation by presenting black freedom and dignity in the many photographic portraits that he sat for. Similarly, Hogue hopes “to challenge my audience to see brown and black people for who they are, rather than what people take them for.

Michael Jones of Stratford, Conn.
“Exploring the souls of my creations as real beings”

For his senior thesis, Michael Jones used ink, colored pencils, markers, and white gel pens to create characters in a fantasy world of his creation, Lezeallion.

Aftermath, 2020, sumi ink and pencil, 9 x 12 inches, by Mike Jones.

Inspired by works of epic fantasy such as Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn series and the Kuroko no Basuke (“Kuroko’s Basketball”) series by Tadatoshi Fujimaki, Jones created “stories of action and power” as well as “magical abilities, dynamic powers, and destructive entities,” he says.

“One of the enjoyments of making my work is creating the visions that I want to see more of in fantasy media and bringing these ideas to life,” Jones says.

“This can include characters with darker skin or anthropomorphic beings interacting in a human setting,” he adds.

“I find satisfaction in exploring the souls of my creations as real beings who face issues that can be metaphorically or literally relatable.”

Otis Klingbeil of Powell, Ohio
“Letting each new piece inform the next”

Painter Otis Klingbeil took his inspiration from Woodstock, Vt., a town that has been important to his family for several generations.

Using “oil, collage, and three-dimensional painting,” he seeks to capture “the essence of this place by simplifying and abstracting rural barns around my town.”

Vermont Barn 1, 2020, oil paint and gesso on matte board, 23 x 16 inches, by Otis Klingbeil.

Working from photographs that he took, Klingbeil sometimes makes oil paintings; other times, he works with other materials, cutting them into various shapes and glueing them “at differing heights, building them out…from the front the image is coherent, but it is more fragmented when seen at an angle,” he says.

“I think of my work as a series of repetitive studies of these barns, letting each new piece inform the next,” he adds.

Eden Rickolt of Landenberg, Pa.
“A parody of comfort and happiness”

Real flamingos are few in the U.S., found mostly in southern Florida, explains sculptor Eden Rickolt of Landenberg, Pa. “But plastic, hot pink flamingos are everywhere.”

In her work, Rickolt uses the weirdness and wonder of the ubiquitous plastic flamingo lawn decoration to examine ideas about “iconized American suburbia.”

Untitled, 2019, crayon, 9 x 12 inches, by Eden Rickolt.

“My work was initially inspired by the curiosity of what happens when the visually consistent but symbolically erratic object is physically distorted,” she says. “Whereas the ornaments are so utterly uniform and lifeless, my flamingos take on an eerie individualism.”

Rickolt’s sculptures, using a mix of recycled materials, papier-mâché, and fabric, portray “quintessential elements of the American house and yard with the goal of creating new, surreal places that are both funny and disturbing.”

“I like the idea of my sculptures resembling candy that is so sweet that just looking at it will rot your teeth,” she says. “In other words, the colors become a parody of comfort and happiness.”

Madeline Schapiro, Malibu, Calif.
“A��garden of permanence”

Working in earthenware, Madeline Schapiro reflects her own history of tending her garden on Saturdays, the red hue of the clay corresponding to the clay she pulled out of the soil in order to plant and nurture seeds. Growing up, Schapiro grew tomatoes, peaches, and lemons, along with vegetables and produce.��

Lemon, 2020, hand building with earthenware, 4 x 4 inches, by Madeline Schapiro.

But where those gardens came and went with the seasons, Schapiro aims, through her work, to make this clay lasting. With the same hands that weeded and planted, she rolls red clay, rakes it and then folds and drapes it into shape.

“My work is a garden of permanence,” she says. Her inspirations include William Morris’s botanical patterns and 19th century botanical drawings.

Grace Smith of Williamstown, Mass.
“A record of our experiences, pain, battles, and torments”

Smith paints, draws in pencil, sews, and does both embroidery and appliqué on fabric to create her expressive portraits. The mix of mediums is fitting for what she’s trying to translate, the complexity and layering of emotions.

“Most of my portraits move between multiple feelings simultaneously,” she says, which can arrive, “all at once and often confused.”

Reflection #4, 2020, dyed fabric and thread, 18 x 36 inches, by Grace Smith.

Smith’s artistic inspirations include Orly Cogan, Egon Schiele, and Gustave Klimt, the latter two known for their portraits of women, often twisted into the frame and bound by rich patterns.

There’s also family heritage in the work of this Williamstown, Mass., native, with fabrics she received from her grandmother woven into the work. “Each holds a story,” Smith says. Those stories include the generations of her family who sat in furniture that was once wrapped in these upholstery fabrics.��

The process of creating these portraits has been therapeutic, Smith says. It’s taught her to embrace scars, understand pain and look at how bodies convey emotion through movement and posture. “Our bodies are a record of our experiences, pain, battles, and torments,” Smith says.

Jeffrey Spellman of West Roxbury, Mass.
“Preconceived ideas are always incorrect”

In his still photography, Jeffrey Spellman seeks to examine the space between the familiar and the blurred.

He works with a deliberately slow shutter speed, contrary to much of portraiture today, with its emphasis on detail. He asks his subjects to move within the space he’s chosen, enjoying the unpredictability of what comes next.

“No two shots are ever the same and all of my preconceived ideas about what the shot will be are always incorrect,” says Spellman.

Untitled 1, 2019, digital photography, 30 x 40 inches, by Jeffrey Spellman.

His thesis project also includes a video that depicts the harsh realities of mass shootings by describing what to do if caught in such a situation.

“The video is purposefully devoid of human life,” Spellman says. He uses a robotic voice to give the instructions, a voice that is meant to reflect “the robotic response triggered by mass shootings in this country.”

The camera becomes a character in this video, and once again, motion is the focus of Spellman’s process.��

Haiyao Tian of Beijing
“Intimate, emotional, and meditative”

When Haiyao Tian left Beijing to come to �ֲ��ý four years ago, she brought just two suitcases with her, filled with items that weren’t necessarily practical.

There were favorite books and pictures stuffed into them, and other “useless” objects. She has no regrets. “It was the personal treasures I cherished that helped me recreate a home away from home.”

Sleeve, 2020, digital photography, 13 x 19 inches, by Haiyao Tian.

Those objects are a key part of her thesis project, which she describes as a visual diary of her room at �ֲ��ý, photographed day after day in multiple sorts of light and in varying circumstances (playing 70s rock while she’s shooting the photographs might bring a different level of energy to the image, for instance).

“I want to push the boundaries of my imagination to make works that go beyond a simple documentation of personal objects, and instead are intimate, emotional, and meditative,” Tian says.��

Tian uses wide-angle lenses and plays with shallow depth of field to create ambiguity and depth, paying homage to the work of artists like Sally Mann and Todd Hido.

But these images of her belongings, photographed in her “sanctuary from the outside world,” speak directly to the life she has built for herself. “To some extent, I would say this project is a personal portrait of myself,” she says.

Philip Wu, New Taipei City, Taiwan
“Defy the norm and provoke confusion”��

Philip Wu occasionally leaves lines unconnected in his pen and ink cityscapes, aiming, he says, to better evoke the fictional characteristic of dystopia. He keeps much of his work deliberately monochromatic, hoping to transcend the boundaries of time.

“While most of my work remains conceptual in nature,” he says. “Each work is conceived by integrating reflections of reality with fictional elements to construct a dystopian image.”

Upsurge, 2020, ink, 14 x 17 inches, Philip Wu.

Wu says he grew up being reminded that the privileges he was given should not be taken for granted, and his thesis work reflects the “experiences and devastations I have been fortunate enough to avoid suffering.”

But it also reflects hope, a “happy ground” he believes could be found. His approach is to illustrate his perspective on dystopian cities, with “a twist reflecting possibilities that human actions can incur on the environment.”

To build his versions of dystopian cityscapes, Wu relied on photographs he took in various countries, from their slums to their skyscrapers. His interest in architecture and space can be glimpsed throughout his thesis work. His goals are to “defy the norm and provoke confusion.”

Multimedia: Three days with art and artists, music and musicians in Olin Arts Center

�ֲ��ý News — Thu, 13 Feb 2020 20:05:03 +0000

At the dedication of Olin Arts Center in 1986, the late Carl Benton Straub, then dean of the faculty, said that “none of us will ever know the countless moments of discovery and self-discovery which will occur in and around this place.”

We won’t know them all, but here are a few — images and sounds of artists and their art, musicians and their music, captured over three days in early February by �ֲ��ý writers Emily McConville and Doug Hubley and photographers Phyllis Graber Jensen and Theophil Syslo.

The home of the �ֲ��ý College Museum of Art, Olin Arts Center also houses the Department of Music and the Department of Art and Visual Culture.

Dedicated in 1986, the Olin Arts Center has been a home to art and artists, music and musicians, who “cut through pretense and presumption to fresh, new beginnings.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

The building features classrooms and faculty offices; practice rooms for musicians and art studios including a ceramics studio and kiln room; a slide library of digital and film artwork and photographic darkrooms; and the signature 300-seat concert hall.

In the spaces of Olin, as Straub promised more than three decades ago, �ֲ��ý artists and art, and musicians and music, will “cut through pretense and presumption to fresh, new beginnings.”

With that, we begin:

Wednesday, Feb. 5

Experimentation with Intent

If Bugs Bunny with his banjo or Bart Simpson with his skateboard seem so free and wild, the art that goes into their cartoon antics is anything but.

This is clear from watching Carolina González Valencia, assistant professor of art and visual culture, show a class in Olin 321 how an animated film is made.

8:48 a.m.

Michael Hogue ’20 of Chicago works on a project before joining his classmates for an animation course taught by Carolina González Valencia, assistant professor of art and visual culture. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

The course is “Animation II: Experimental Methods,” part of the animation track launched by the arts and visual culture department when González arrived in 2016. The animation lab, a former painting studio that still has a rail around the walls to support canvases, is tucked up under the sloping art center roof. The ceiling lamps are off.

Under the eyes of six students, González stands in a pool of light at an animation stand. At the bottom of the stand is a brightly lit baseboard marked with a grid, and at the top there’s a downward-aiming camera that can be moved up and down.

9:21 a.m.

Zhao Li ’21 of Guangzhou, China, watches the animated short film Recycled��in Carolina González Valencia’s experimental animation class. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

González is demonstrating the use of cutouts and layers in a technique called under-camera animation. On the grid, she has created a scenario from a drawing of two open windows and a few cutouts — a banana, a paper plane, a dancer.

You know the drill: González snaps a few frames of the composition, which go into software called Dragon in an iMac. She moves something slightly and snaps a few more (the standard frame rate for animation is 24 per second). She creates illusions of distance by separating the visual planes with a sheet of glass, or by changing the camera height, or by substituting the paper plane with a smaller version.

9:23 a.m.

Carolina González Valencia, assistant professor of art and visual culture. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

“When there are multiple things that I’m moving at different times, I like to keep a log,” González tells the students, who will soon be creating their own trial animations. In essence, her message is to bring the methods of science to this art form. Restrict the variables, she says. “Experiment with intention. Don’t move things in a random way.”

She plays back the frames she’s been recording, and a paper plane flies in one window and back out the other.

9:47 a.m.

González works at the animation stand. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

‘One Really Cool Detail’

As they begin a visit at the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art, education curator Anthony Shostak gives a class of seventh-graders from Lewiston Middle School two tasks as they take in the exhibition Miracles and and Glory Abound by Pittsburgh artist Vanessa German: Come up with at least one question about the art, and find “one really cool detail.”��

There’s plenty to choose from. German’s work is immense, expansive, intricate.��The middle schoolers are quick to point out the details, and their feelings about them. “That’s scary,” one observes about a pile of plaster baby legs adorning one sculpture. “There are keys everywhere,” says another.��

10:55 a.m.

Lewiston Middle School student Michael Caron, 13, notices an unexpected part of a sculpture by Vanessa German: himself, reflected in one of the mirrors scattered throughout German’s exhibition at the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

This field trip is a kind of “field work,” says social studies teacher Jennifer Hudner. Later in the semester, the students will pick out a Lewiston landmark to personify. Hudner wants to show her charges that ordinary objects and structures can have great meaning.

“This” — Hudner gestures toward the whole exhibit — “has a lot of stories to tell.”��

Museum education fellow Elizabeth Boyle gathers the students around the exhibit’s centerpiece, a sculpture of a boat and its passengers. The sculpture reimagines Emanuel Leutze’s iconic painting “Washington Crossing the Delaware,” depicting all of the boat’s passengers and the first U.S. president as Black women: “LaQuisha Washington Crossing the Day Aware.”

Boyle explains the characters in the sculpture — including a blue figure personifying water — and challenges the students to think about the importance of depicting Black women as part of a story from which they are often excluded.��

Boyle says most tour groups catch recurring motifs like boxing gloves, keys, and mirrors. But German’s sculptures are so detailed, the symbolism so layered, that visitors often notice things before museum staff do.��

Case in point: One student points out that LaQuisha Washington and the figure next to her look like a couple.��

Practicing ‘Pathétique’

11:07 a.m.

The sounds of piano, a constant on Olin’s second floor, mix with that of a vacuum cleaner running on carpet. Alek Zelbo ’23 of New York City waits for a moment outside a practice room for his piano lesson to start.��

Zelbo started piano about a year and a half ago, during a gap year before college. He took to the instrument so well that he hopes to major in music performance, as well as chemistry.��

He’s on his way to reaching that goal — �ֲ��ý students can take applied music lessons for credit — with the help of Chiharu Naruse, an accomplished pianist and piano instructor who studied under renowned �ֲ��ý pianist Frank Glazer.��

Vignettes from the Olin Arts Center practice rooms by Theophil Syslo.

In the practice room, Zelbo runs through some scales before resuming a piece he’s been learning, Beethoven’s “Pathétique” sonata.

Naruse guides him through a section of the sonata, having him pay attention to volume, speed, and articulation — the clarity of touch. Both use pencils to make notes or tap out rhythms.��

Several minutes into the lesson, Zelbo starts to play through several bars. “Yes!” says Naruse. “You can do it.”��

11:16 a.m.

Alek Zelbo ’23 and piano instructor Chiharu Naruse use pencils to make notes and tap out rhythms. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

A Piece of the Puzzle

11:32 a.m.

Stay in the Olin Concert Hall for a week, and you see a revolving door of rehearsals; performances by students, outside artists, and artists in residence; and other events, with audiences of varying sizes.��

Now, though, Olin is still and empty except for the hum of the auto scrubber, which custodian Bruce Audet uses to clean the stage about three times a week. He starts at an outer corner and works his way in; later he’ll need to move the piano that’s now in the middle of the stage.��

Custodian Bruce Audet cleans the Olin Concert Hall stage. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Working in Olin is “like a puzzle, fitting everything together,” Audet says. There’s standard cleaning and maintenance, plus a carousel of events to set up and take down. Audet likes it that way.��

He also likes being around students and employees, and the music and art they make.��

‘Ohm’ in the Museum

The lower level of the Museum of Art is currently home to Ralph Meatyard: Stages for Being, an exhibition of the Kentucky photographer’s eerie, enigmatic images.

12:16 p.m.

Costume Shop Supervisor Carol Farrell performs a “downward dog” during lunchtime yoga in the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

It’s also the home of Wednesday lunchtime yoga for faculty and staff, including Costume Shop Supervisor Carol Farrell, Professor Emeritus of Mathematics David Haines, and custodian Mark Truitt. Surrounded by surreal black-and-white photos of children and adults in masks, yoga regulars roll out their mats.��

Instructor Heidi Audet puts on some music, and the session begins. Roll shoulders. Straighten spine. Roll head, drop chin. Exhale — “hah!” Then cross legs, and, if you like, three rounds of ohm.

12:16 p.m.

Professor Emeritus of Mathematics David Haines, front, and custodian Mark Truitt reach up during lunchtime yoga in the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Duke’s Musical Dialogue��

12:26 p.m.

Olin 105 is set up as a small auditorium or movie theater. There are descending rows of seats, a raised stage with a piano on it, a sound booth in the back, and a wall-to-wall projection screen up front. Tucked away in a corner is an old overhead projector on a cart; nearby, a skateboard leans against the back wall.��

In a course on the history of jazz, Associate Professor of Music Dale Chapman explains an upcoming writing assignment before starting a lecture on jazz in the Great Depression. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

Associate Professor of Music Dale Chapman, teaching his jazz history course, is explaining how “exoticized, racialized” jazz performances gave way, during the Great Depression, to public dances, the audience becoming part of the entertainment instead of just watching it.��

Emerging from this milieu was Duke Ellington, whose orchestra’s polished and sophisticated sound was thanks in no small part to trumpeter Cootie Williams.

Chapman plays a recording of “Concerto for Cootie,” an Ellington composition that gave Williams the spotlight.��

Students in the class point out the dynamics of rhythm and loudness. Chapman adds that the piece contains internal harmonies, and that the rest of the band answers Williams’ melody — a musical dialogue, he says.��

12:37 p.m.

Associate Professor of Music Dale Chapman discusses Duke Ellington’s “Concerto for Cootie.” (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

All Together Now��

Wednesday afternoons are among the few times when the senior studios — rooms where studio art majors complete their thesis work — are full.

Seniors have 24-hour access to the building, and while each has times when they feel most productive and inspired, today’s the day when they meet together with Pamela Johnson, associate professor of art and visual culture, for their weekly thesis class.��

E.B. Hall ’20 of Boise, Idaho, works on her pieces — grand sculptures and figurines made of donated clothes, Goodwill rejects, and even dryer lint — in a ground-floor room with wall-to-wall windows looking out on the field toward Russell Street.��

A floor above, Mayele Alognon ’20 of Louisville, Ky., uses a wash technique to make semi-transparent figures on cardboard, many of them locked in embraces. “I’m juggling a lot with this idea that there are multiple authentic versions of self, rather than one objective version of oneself,” she says.��

3:35 p.m.

E.B. Hall ’20 reflects on her senior thesis project — making sculptures and other artworks out of discarded items. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

The studios are shared spaces, and among Alognon’s studio-mates is Philip Wu ’20 of New Taipei City, Taiwan, who across the room is using ink pens and brush markers to make intricate, dystopian cityscapes. Whereas Alognon likes to work in the afternoons (“I’m definitely with the light,” she says), Wu is more of a night owl, coming into the studio after dinner and working past midnight.��

“I kind of like it to be quiet and peaceful,” he says. “That’s the environment I enjoy working in.”��

“The energy’s always fluctuating.”��

Alognon spends a lot of time in Olin, between the studio, her job at the front desk, and an independent study in animation. In the rhythms of the day, there’s “this friction between being a lot of noise in here and not a lot of noise,” she says.��

“Sometimes it’s a really great place to concentrate on your own work and be by yourself, and sometimes there’s so much going on. The energy’s always fluctuating.”��

It’s invariably nice, though, to come into the studio and see not only her own work, but that of her classmates. “It’s motivational to come in here and see what everyone else is working on. It makes you want to work harder and do better-quality and more work in general.”��

3:53 p.m.: For her thesis, Grace Smith ’20 is working in a variety of media and styles. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

3:26 p.m.: Celia Feal-Staub ’20 of Putney, Vt., does ceramic work during her senior thesis class. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

3:41 p.m.: Grace Smith of Williamstown, Mass., works on a piece for her studio art thesis. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

3:42 p.m.: In E.B. Hall's studio space, a disembodied Barbie and sheet from a sketch pad. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

3:50 p.m.: Otis Klingbeil ’20 of Powell, Ohio, contemplates before he paints. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Shedding Light��

3:59 p.m.

As the late-afternoon light causes shadows to descend on the Olin lobby, Myron Beasley, associate professor of American studies, offers advice about summer jobs and art spaces to Ollie Penner ’22 of Pasadena, Calif., an art and American studies double-major.

(Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Coming to Life��

Live figure drawing starts at 6 p.m., and many artists arrive several minutes early. The nude model will pose on a small platform in Olin 259, with participants set up around her in a semi-circle — so where they place their easels will determine the angle at which they can draw her.��

6:01 p.m.

A model poses during a weekly life drawing session in Olin Arts Center, sponsored by the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Sponsored by the Museum of Art, the three-hour session attracts both �ֲ��ý students and community members — including noted landscape artist Joel Babb.��

The model starts with a short five-minute pose. Using pencil or charcoal, the artists work quickly. Bodies take shape on paper within the first minute, followed by rough details and, for some artists, shadows.��

6:16 p.m.

Landscape artist Joel Babb sketches quickly — the model’s first pose only lasts for five minutes. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

‘Got a Little Something’ to Play��

7:24 p.m.

Tucked in a narrow room on the first floor, the 15 or so members of the �ֲ��ý Steel Pan Orchestra play through “Got a Little Something.” It’s the ensemble’s first rehearsal of the semester. “Beautiful,” says director Duncan Hardy. “Wow.”��

For the most part, each ensemble member is in charge of two steel pans, the Trinidadian percussion instruments. Made out of 55-gallon drums, the pans are marked along the rim with the note that will ring out if hit in that spot.��

Watch the �ֲ��ý Steel Pan Orchestra practice “Got a Little Something.”

It’s time to practice the next song, “Iron Have Me So,” and the room fills with the cacophony of musicians practicing their individual parts. Hardy circles the room giving instructions. Like steel pan music itself, the atmosphere of the rehearsal is lively, fun.��

Bringing the group back together, Hardy has individual sections — high pans, low pans, bass — play parts of the song. Panners click their sticks as applause.��

7:50 p.m.

From left, Sam Onion ’20 of Wayne, Maine, Emmy Daigle ’20 of Portland, Ore., and Steel Pan Orchestra director Duncan Hardy learn a new song. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

Thursday, Feb. 6

Chipping Away��

Alex Paton ’21 of Charlotte, Vt., breaks up snow and ice behind the outdoor soda kiln to make space for the kiln burners. This kiln creates a particular ceramic glaze.��

2:25 p.m.

(Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

What Practice Is For��

“We want the sound to be dense,” Alan Carr tells the low-end contingent — three trombonists and a euphonium player, plus a drummer — of the �ֲ��ý Brass Ensemble. “Imagine the sound oozing through the wall, out under Russell Street.”

2:53 p.m.

Nick White ’21 of Brunswick, Maine, is one of three student trombonists in the �ֲ��ý Brass ensemble. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

/news/files/2020/02/Olin_Low_Brass_Plays.m4a

Hidden in the back of Olin’s ground floor, the rehearsal room was built big but looks small, jammed with musical instruments. The musicians sit on folding chairs in a small clearing anchored at one end by two pianos. Carr, brass ensemble director and a trombonist himself, is conducting the students through an angular, propulsive passage from Martin Fondse’s “Low End HiFi.”

“There were four different E-naturals going on there,” observes Carr, unperturbed. This is what rehearsal is for, after all. When he adds his bass trombone to the ensemble, the sound densifies considerably. Trumpeters wander in or hang around, muttering in the hall. Drummer Christian Bradna ’20 of Guatemala City riffles his high-hat and pumps the kick drum.

2:54 p.m.

Trombonist Alice Li ’21 of Bellevue, Wash. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

/news/files/2020/02/Olin_Low_Brass_Sings.m4a

“How about we sing our parts?” Carr says. He claps the tempo, the men sing the dominant line, trombonist Alice Li ’21 of Bellevue, Wash. — despite her earlier claim that she’d forgotten the whole thing — negotiates an ornate counter-melody.

“Alice, that was perfect,” Carr says. He pauses. “Wouldn’t it be fun if we spontaneously sang like that during the concert?”

3:07 p.m.

Alan Carr, brass ensemble director, also plays bass trombone with the group. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Photograph Tasks��

There’s an hour left in a three-hour photography course taught by Senior Lecturer in Art and Visual Culture Elke Morris; a special guest, Maine fine arts photographer Jack Montgomery, has offered to stick around and chat with students, including Jake Choi ’20 of Seoul.��

3:19 p.m.

Jack Montgomery sits with Jake Choi ’20 of Seoul. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Otherwise, students in this upper-level class can consult with Morris about their assignment on photographing the human figure, or they can hang their finished work on the walls of the ground-floor hallway for the next day’s Arts Festival. The students scatter to their individual tasks.��

Nick Charde ’22 of Concord, Mass., plans to showcase a series of photos he made during a gap year, mainly focusing on architecture. “I love the way a setting — the buildings, the trees, the people — comes together to form a composite,” he says.��

3:23 p.m.

Cate Day ’20 of Montclair, N.J., talks with senior lecturer Elke Morris about her photography projects. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

An art and visual culture on the art history track, Charde has a class in Olin every day.

“I love the ambiance of this building,” he says. “You hear the pianos, people singing. It’s a good, cozy atmosphere. It’s away from the rest of campus, too, a nice alternative study spot.”��

Johnny Loftus ’22 of Palo Alto, Calif., heads across the hall to the darkroom. The “film guy” in the class, he likes how film constrains his choice of settings and number of shots; his photos come out better in the end, he believes.

Loftus works late at night, sometimes coming in as the late-shift custodian is leaving. “You do your own thing in here,” he says — which helps his art.��

3:26 p.m.

Johnny Loftus ’20 displays a binder of a classmate’s contact sheets in the Olin Arts Center darkroom. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

3:33 p.m.

Loftus uses a loupe to examine black-and-white negatives that he’s spread out on a light table in the Olin darkroom.

3:36 p.m.

Anna Gouveia ’22 of Jenkintown, Pa., hangs up her photo of a young boy in Lewiston’s twin city of Auburn. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

“I usually hear of it, and I’ll come.”

On evenings and weekends, when Alexandra Hood, the center’s operations supervisor, is away from the front desk of Olin, a battalion of capable student workers takes over. Sandia Taban ’22 of Changsu, China, likes the job because she gets to interact with lots of different people.��

6:23 p.m.

Sandia Taban ’22 chats with �ֲ��ý Communications employees during her shift at the front desk of Olin. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Among her duties: giving students keys to the ceramics room, helping people book concert tickets, scanning said tickets, answering prospective students’ questions. One time, a woman walked by the office, stopped, turned around, came in, and complimented the office plant. But Taban also has plenty of time to do schoolwork.��

A nice side effect of working the front desk is that Taban is familiar with the arts calendar, so she goes to almost every concert. “Sometimes my friend will be in the choir, or my friend will be playing the violin in the orchestra,” she says. “I usually hear of it, and I’ll come.”

Percussion and Peace��

Walking into the �ֲ��ý Gamelan Ensemble rehearsal room, one feels a sense of tranquility. The wood and bronze of the Indonesian instruments cast a warm aura.

Even when the student and staff players are practicing individual parts of Sundanese songs all at once, the melodic percussion has, well, a nice ring to it.

6:36 p.m.

Nicole Recto ’21 of Laredo, Texas, plays kenong during the �ֲ��ý Gamelan Ensemble rehearsal. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

6:37 p.m.

Of course, the group’s skill and practice really show when they master their individual sections, and are able to put it all together.

Watch a gamelan piece come together.��

7:12 p.m.

It’s a familiar view to anyone who spends time in Olin Arts Center in winter: snowy Keigwin Amphitheater and an iced-over Lake Andrews.

(Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Friday, Feb. 7

Handle with Care

“Our rule,” says Anthony Shostak of the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art, “is that art objects are really safe when they’re not being handled.”

Fair enough. But inevitably, the museum’s Marsden Hartley drawings or pre-Columbian ceramics or Yvonne Jacquette prints, etc., actually do sometimes need to be handled. There’s a right way to do that and lots of wrong ways, and teaching the museum’s collection-management student interns right from wrong is an important part of their training.

1:19 p.m.

Anthony Shostak, education curator at the �ֲ��ý College Museum of Art, shows intern Helen Pandey ’22 how artworks on paper are stored. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

This afternoon Shostak is giving that training to intern Helen Pandey ’22 of Nashville, Tenn., in the museum’s collection room, on Olin’s ground floor. Some precautions are self-evident.

For instance, gloves are worn to protect art from skin secretions, and they should be textured gloves for a good grip. Also, says Shostak, “If you have to cough or sneeze, definitely turn away.”

A so-called conveyance — in this case, a rolling table with an enclosed top — is used to, er, convey items from Point A to Point B. Three-dimensional objects like those old ceramics are swaddled in felt to protect them on the ride. Both hands are needed to carry an object, and don’t lift that ancient jug by the handle — it doesn’t need any more stress.

“Just be slow and crazily obsessive.”

Other art-handling tenets have a sort of “it takes a village” quality. Shostak always lets his co-workers know when he’s about to roll a loaded conveyance out of the collection room.

And if you’re up on the rolling ladder plucking a piece from an upper shelf, always hand the art down to a helper. Why? If you use both hands to hold the piece, you could stumble down the ladder. And if you use one hand to hold the railing, you won’t be using two hands to hold the piece.��

“Whenever you’re moving art,” Shostak says, “just be slow and crazily obsessive.”

1:54 p.m.: Helen Pandey demonstrates the right way to pick up art on paper: Use your fingers like clamps and don't bend the piece. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

1:31 p.m.: This pre-Columbian ceramic depicts a being that's half-human, half-jaguar. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

1:27 p.m.: Two hands are required for handling three-dimensional art objects, Shostak explains. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Encore, encore��

4:46 p.m.

It’s the start of the �ֲ��ý Arts Festival, a new student arts showcase and whirlwind of displays, demonstrations, workshops, and, of course, performances.

The senior art and visual culture majors are back in their studios together, showing friends and strangers what they’ve created. Students lead discussions of photography and poetry. The �ֲ��ý circus club teaches curious passers-by how to juggle.

And the Olin Concert Hall features performances big and small, classical and modern, sung and spoken. The Robinson Players perform a song from their recent musical,��The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.��The Crosstones bust out contemporary hits a cappella.��The �ֲ��ý Arts Festival is a showcase of student artistic creativity in its every manifestation — nurtured, in so many cases, in the Olin Arts Center.

4:46 p.m.: Students gather for food and conversation during the �ֲ��ý Arts Festival. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

6:25 p.m.: Violinist Mathieu Moutou ’22 of Vacoas, Mauritius, is another member of the orchestra quartet. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

6:18 p.m.: Clarinetist Nick White ’21 of Brunswick, Maine, performs with a �ֲ��ý orchestra quartet. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

5:59 p.m.: Khadeeja Qureshi ’23 of Princeton, N.J., performs a spoken-word piece during the �ֲ��ý Arts Festival. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

5:24 p.m.: The a cappella Crosstones perform at the 2020 �ֲ��ý Arts Festival. (Theophil Syslo/�ֲ��ý College)

�ֲ��ý at Night: Brass Ensemble rehearsal

Joshua Kuckens — Thu, 23 Mar 2017 15:23:23 +0000

On a chilly Wednesday night, the �ֲ��ý Brass Ensemble forged a warm blend of sounds during a rehearsal at the Olin Arts center. The new ensemble, formed last fall, features a quintet of brass instruments backed by percussion. Alan Carr, manager of Olin Arts and director of the ensemble, has been pleased with the new group’s progress. The ensemble offers a change of pace from larger groups like orchestra or jazz band, he says. “You have to assume more of a leadership role and take more ownership of your part, because each part is equally important. It forces you to be a team in a different way. It’s been fun to watch the kids really grow.”

Kyle Zollo-Venecek '17 of Concord, N.H., works through a tough music chart.

Carr sometimes play his horn while conducting, a useful teaching tactic when words alone won't do.

Leah Sturman '17 of Huntington Beach, Calif., plays her french horn part.

The group heads to Carr's office to listen to a studio recording of a piece before rehearsing it.

Director Alan Carr conducts the ensemble through a jazz piece.

Trumpet player Jamie Fagan ’20 of Wilton, Conn., has also noticed the difference playing in a tighter group. Having always played in larger ensembles where he could “sort of hide,” he now feels “pretty exposed, so it’s really challenged me to take my playing to a different level.” Fagan added that his coursework in classical music and Western culture has enhanced his playing experience. “Now I know why Bach wrote what he wrote. So that gives you a lot more context when you play, and at the end of the day you play better than you would have otherwise,” he said.

“I’m not the star of the show.”

Drummer Kyle Zollo-Venecek ’17 of Concord, N.H., also appreciates the intertwining of disciplines. He says the rigor of deciphering scholarly articles and working through problem sets has given him the discipline to “be able to sit down with a [music] chart, where I can’t read a single thing on it, and actually figure it out piece by piece and play it. You just gotta start from the top and work your way through.” Zollo-Venecek, who was a guitar player before turning to drums last year, embraces the supportive, structural role that percussion plays in the ensemble. “I’m not the star of the show,” he said. “People want you to play with them because you make them feel good about playing. And that’s kind of the whole thing.”

�ֲ��ý at Night: Nude figure drawing

Joshua Kuckens — Thu, 09 Mar 2017 19:40:58 +0000

On Wednesday night in an Olin Arts Center studio, the only sounds were charcoal on paper and hands sweeping over sketches as local residents joined students for a nude figure drawing session.

Meghan Cleary ’18, an art and visual culture major from South Burlington, Vt., was the model for this session in the��weekly Life Drawing series. New to modeling this year, Cleary has already gained a level of comfort. “I was a little nervous the first time, but once you’re up there it’s pretty easy to zone out,” she said. “It’s more like just drawing shapes, rather than seeing a naked person.”

Artist John Bowdren of Pownal, Maine, has been coming to the weekly sessions for over a decade. “A lot of people have been coming for a long time, so it’s nice to catch up and hear what’s going on in the art world locally,” he said. “There’s no teaching, which is nice. People do little critiques but nothing serious, so it’s everyone just doing their thing.”

Figure drawing is "more like just drawing shapes, rather than seeing a naked person.”

Maine residents join �ֲ��ý students for a Figure Drawing session in Olin on Wednesday evening, Mar. 8 2017.

Meghan Cleary '18 of South Burlington, Vt, holds a pose. (Josh Kuckens/�ֲ��ý College)

Deshun Peoples '17 (left) of Chicago is among the artists who joined the figure drawing session on March 8. (Josh Kuckens/�ֲ��ý College)

John Bowdren, a painter from Pownal, Maine, holds up his pencil to "measure" units based on the model's head size. (Josh Kuckens/�ֲ��ý College)

The informal aspect of the drawing session appeals to students like Deshun Peoples ’17. “It’s helpful to have this uninterrupted session of just drawing the figure consistently. It helps a lot in a way that is different than class time,” said Peoples, an art and visual culture major from Chicago.

He also noted the college-community aspect of the sessions. “It gives you a chance to interact with the population, especially artists, which is not something that’s a common occurrence.”

Picture story: Student art majors who ‘vibe off each other’

�ֲ��ý News — Fri, 22 Apr 2016 16:33:23 +0000

Featuring photographs of ceramic artists at work and play, here's a story about two seniors whose friendship, like their artwork, is both functional and inspired.

�ֲ��ý in the News: Aug. 7, 2015

�ֲ��ý News — Fri, 07 Aug 2015 14:53:00 +0000

Jason Castro

Can’t you smell that smell? Maybe not, says a �ֲ��ý neuroscientist.

In 2014, a widely-reported study in Science suggested that the human nose is capable of distinguishing at least 1 trillion odors.

But something smells a bit funny about those findings, according to scientists Jason Castro of �ֲ��ý and Rick Gerkin of Arizona State.

Assistant Professor of Psychology Jason Castro is a neuroscientist who studies the sense of smell, focusing on the neural circuitry involved in odor processing among other areas. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ��ý College)

Castro and Gerkin have , and the story has been picked up by a number of media outlets,

“The conclusion in the 2014 paper relies heavily on untested assumptions about smell perception,” says Castro, an assistant professor of psychology.

“And the equation used actually shows that the number of distinguishable smells is fewer than 1 trillion, not more, making the original claim inaccurate, and in fact the exact opposite of what the calculation actually shows.”

Gerkin notes that “the assertion that humans can discriminate between at least 1 trillion odors is based on a fragile mathematical framework…. So the result in question could be tens of orders of magnitude — a factor of one with dozens of zeros after it — larger or smaller than first reported.”

Owen Dodson ’36

Owen Dodson ’36, photographed by Nancy Carrick Holbert, 1969, courtesy of the University of Arizona Poetry Center, copyright Arizona Board of Regents.

, journalist and activist Cliff Boyd looks at the life of mid-20th century author, poet, and playwright Owen Dodson ’36.

Boyd quotes Dodson explaining one chapter of his life, his brief work in Hollywood, where he met with writers and others in an attempt to create movies that wouldn’t have black stereotypes.

“But they didn’t pick up our cause because there were so many things going on in the government — Joseph McCarthy — and they were afraid,” Dodson said.

He continued: “In my time I was a very eloquent and good-looking young man. I should have had rays to pull them into our cause.

“But the commercial world had sucked them in, and they would not let their careers go away with a Black cause, even though they believed in the whole damn thing.”

�ֲ��ý Museum of Art

The �ֲ��ý Museum of Art offers a photography exhibition that is welcome for being unusual, says The Boston Globe.

“We’re so familiar with artists’ self-portraits that it comes as something like revelation to see a major American painter shown over a span of years photographically,” writes the in his review of The Painter of Maine: Photographs of Marsden Hartley at the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art.

Marsden Hartley in Cannes, France, in 1925, in a gelatin silver print made by an unknown photographer. (Marsden Hartley Memorial Collection, �ֲ��ý College Museum of Art)

“The �ֲ��ý show is unusual, with its emphasis on the painter-subject rather than the quality of the images or identity of the photographers (all but two are anonymous),” Feeney continues.

“That unusualness makes the show all the more welcome. The fact that Hartley had such an unprepossessing appearance somehow makes the images all the more revealing — and poignant.”

Feeney reviewed both the Hartley exhibition and the exhibition Points of View, both of which continue through Oct. 24

John Jenkins ’74

John Jenkins ’74, who will be inducted into the International Black Belt Hall of Fame in the fall, spoke to about his path from Newark, N.J., to �ֲ��ý, and on to becoming one of Lewiston-Auburn’s leading citizens.

Mills notes that “what matters most to Jenkins is the impact karate has had on his life and how he has used it to make a difference in the world around him.”

Jenkins has been mayor of both Auburn and Lewiston and served as a Maine state senator.

Jenkins said, “I’ve got tons of trophies. They’re all sitting in storage. To have a change of life for folks in a positive way, there’s no better legacy than that.”

Tyler Mosher ’11, Matt Brockman ’08, Ross Brockman ’11

“there was a day not so long ago when this country had squat to offer as far as hard ciders. And for those of us who came of age on this deliciously dryly-sweet boozy beverage, it kind of sucked.”

Enter Boston-based Downeast Cider, produced by Tyler Mosher ’11 and brothers Matt ’08 and Ross Brockman ’11.

“The company produces a deliciously murky cider,” writes AP food editor J.M Hirsch. “Murky isn’t often a term associated with delicious. But roll with this one…. I balked when my first pint was poured. But then I tasted. Clean and crisp, a little sweet, a little dry. Which is to say, a balanced cider. The sort of drink Americans have shown themselves not particularly adept at producing.

Downeast cider, he concludes “is worth hunting for.”

Paul Heroux

In advance of the dedication of newly renovated Theodora Park, highlighted a contribution by Paul Heroux, a ceramicist and a senior lecturer emeritus of art and visual culture at �ֲ��ý.

Adding to his national reputation, Heroux contributed a set of decorative tiles for a park fountain, telling Spence that he’d been working on the commission, designing, glazing, and hand-painting 370 ceramic tiles, for more than a year.

Theodora Park in the Ansonborough neighborhood of Charleston, S.C. (Julia Lynn)

Paul Heroux's tiles in the fountain at Theodora Park in Charleston, S.C. (Julia Lynn)

Paul Heroux's tiles in the fountain at Theodora Park in Charleston, S.C. (Sam Spence/Charleston City Paper)

“My two inspirations for the piece are the formal boxwood hedges I see around town and the wonderful green glazes used on old Italian tiles, jars, and garden ornaments,” Heroux told the

In a case of turnabout, museum director shows his own art in Chicago

Doug Hubley — Tue, 17 Jul 2012 14:22:07 +0000

"Pacific Lands" (2012), an acrylic painting on a printed map mounted on board by Dan Mills.

When Dan Mills talks with artists about showing their work at the �ֲ��ý College Museum of Art, of which he is the director, he has more insight into their concerns than do some of his peers. That’s because Mills is a working artist himself. He makes work that employs a variety of media to explore themes and imagery that encompass cartography, humor, imperialism, cartoon characters, landscape and portraiture. On July 13, Chicago’s opened exhibitions by Mills and two other artists, Wilder Buck and Glenn Wexler. The gallery, established in 1976, shows a diverse selection of contemporary artwork. A week later, at the , Mills is showing��his U.S. Future States, a “world atlas” composed of supposed U.S. annexations of various nations — in short, a parody of U.S. imperialism. The opening is at 5:30 p.m. on the 20th, and Mills gives a gallery talk the following day at 1 p.m. The show runs through Sept. 23. The Perceval Press, actor Viggo Mortensen’s publishing company, produced a hardcover book based on US Future State Atlas series of drawings in 2009. , continues the artist’s interest in maps as deliberately constructed art forms that depict a geography as much subjective and psychological as physical and national. Like such other Mills projects as The US Future States Atlas and the Embassy series, the Quest paintings are “characterized by a keen sense of irony and a witty insouciance toward the desires that fuel colonialism and imperialism,” writes Eleanor Heartney in her exhibition catalog essay, “Will to Power.” “But at the same time, Mills never neglects the visual aspects of his work. His projects straddle the worlds of politics and art, and in the end occupy a region that partakes as much of Matisse as of 18th-century political satirists like James Gillray and William Hogarth. His works appeal to the mind and to the eye, making us smile in order to make us think.” The Zolla/Lieberman exhibitions continue through Aug. 25. Zolla/Lieberman represents Mills.�� Director of the �ֲ��ý museum since 2010, Mills and his wife, artist Gail Skudera, lived in Chicago and were active in the Windy City’s art community from 1981 to 1994.

“Rollin’ to Olin” art-music programs resume Feb. 29

�ֲ��ý News — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 18:50:45 +0000

The Maine duo Cinder Conk plays music from the Balkans and elsewhere in Eastern Europe.

The �ֲ��ý College outreach program “Rollin’ to Olin,” launched last fall to give local schoolchildren experience with music and visual art at the college’s Olin Arts Center, resumes this month.

Fourth-graders from Geiger Elementary School will be bused to the arts center for hourlong programs consisting of a visual art presentation and a short concert, both in the Olin Arts Center Concert Hall, 75 Russell St.

Starting with the visual art presentations at 12:30 p.m., the Wednesday programs take place Feb. 29, March 7 and March 14.

The programs are open to the general public, and elementary schools are invited to send classes. Teachers can RSVP to Anthony Shostak, the museum’s education curator, or to education fellow Catherine Jones at 207-786-6158.

Maine pianist Brian Meldrum.

A generous grant from Liberty Mutual pays for Geiger’s transportation costs.

On Feb. 29, the art presentation will explore the depiction of animals in art, using examples from the museum collection. Music begins at 1 p.m. by La Morra, a Swiss ensemble dedicated to late medieval and early Renaissance music.

(NOTE: La Morra holds a second concert that day at 7:30 p.m., also in the Olin Concert Hall. Tickets are $6, and available at www.batestickets.com. For more information, please contact 207-786-6135 or olinarts@bates.edu.)

On March 7, the program features an introduction to abstraction, followed by Cinder Conk, a Portland duo that performs Eastern European music on accordion and bass. While the art presentation for March 14 is still being planned, the music will be provided by local pianist Brian Meldrum, playing music by Chopin and Beethoven.

Following each visit to �ֲ��ý, the grade-schoolers will write about their experiences, connecting the program to their language arts curriculum.

La Morra performs European music of a period roughly defined by the dates 1300 and 1500, with occasional escapades outside this time frame. The ensemble pays particular attention to the secular art song, sacred para-liturgical genres and instrumental music.

Cinder Conk plays across the Northeast and has shared the stage with Petar Ralchev’s Live from Bulgaria Ensemble, Fishtank Ensemble and Slavic Soul Party. Notable performances include the Free Range Music Festival, the Golden Festival and the Common Ground Fair.

Michal Gondko and Corina Marti of La Morra.

Meldrum, of Wayne, has performed in south-central Maine for four decades. Familiar to �ֲ��ý audiences from the Noonday Concert Series, Meldrum studied for more than 30 years with Natasha Chances, a legendary member of the college’s applied music faculty.

The Rollin’ to Olin program is part of new programming introduced in conjunction with the 25th anniversary of the Olin Arts Center.

Video: Olin Arts Center’s 25th

Doug Hubley — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 13:18:04 +0000

Asphalt Orchestra performs on the Olin Arts Center terrace on Oct. 8. Photograph by Jose Leiva.

On an October day that could have passed for August, �ֲ��ý marked the 25th anniversary of its Olin Arts Center with a family arts festival.

And while the attractions included a marching band, popcorn, balloon animals and juggling, the festivity was much more than just another day at the circus.

The headliners, avant-garde marching band Asphalt Orchestra and the New Vaudeville act Two, managed both to honor the long traditions they represent and to show them in a new light. Maine natives Matt and Jason Tardy, aka Two, delivered their juggling and acrobatics with astounding skill, but also with edgy humor about show-biz conventions and performers’ egos.

“They convey the fact that there’s more behind it” than just the mechanics of their art and of creating a spectacle, said concert hall manager Seth Warner, who organized the Olin celebration.

Meanwhile, Asphalt Orchestra took the exhilarating energy of a half-time show and shifted it into a whole other realm.

Jason and Matt Tardy, aka Two, are joined by a young guest artist during an Olin Arts Center anniversary performance. Photo: Jose Leiva.

The band skipped Sousa and Top 40 in favor of world music and tunes by Björk and Frank Zappa. The arrangements left plenty of room for soaring jazz solos. And, eschewing uniforms for a blue-gray-black pastiche of denim and vintage garb, the 12-piece Asphalt showed in ways other than its name the awareness that a marching band’s home is the street.

In short sets on the Olin terrace, the band whirled and marched right into the crowd of students, kids and parents, many of whom played along on drums that Warner had set out.

Asphalt’s dance party tendency gained a new dimension as students from Rachel Boggia’s dance improvisation course performed during one set. Exploiting the grass and stone steps of the Keigwin Amphitheater, the dancers flowed and pivoted up and down, periodically flinging themselves at the feet of the musicians, who in turn brought their own choreography to the encounter.

This burst of energy on the banks of Lake Andrews was a high point of the day. And it was even more improvised than anyone had expected, Boggia said later. The dancers had planned to perform indoors, in the �ֲ��ý Museum of Art, but “it seemed like everything was happening outside” — so they quickly revised their plans to work with Asphalt on the amphitheater.

“It was a great opportunity for them to realize that not everything goes by the rules.” After the dance, Boggia adds, Asphalt drummer Nick Jenkins shared nice thoughts about the occasion: “It seems like you have a really vital arts community here at �ֲ��ý.”

Students in a dance improvisation course perform with Asphalt Orchestra. Photo: Jose Leiva.

The Tardys, of Buckfield, combined juggling, acrobatics, contortion — Matt threading himself through the ruptured mesh of a tennis racket, for instance — all set to thumping techno-pop tracks created by Matt. “This is so — dangerous!” Jason said as his brother began to juggle three knives. “Notice how Matt catches them by the handle part, not the shiny metal part.”

One of several bits in their show, the knife routine consisted of one Tardy juggling the blades while the other commented. Periodically they would trade roles — a brother tossing the knives to the other and getting the microphone in return, all juggling, all the time. The absence of lacerations was impressive, as was a mock mic mixup in which Matt, juggling the mic and two knives, managed to time his remarks to Jason just as the mic flew past his mouth.

Inside the arts center, families mingled with �ֲ��ý students and faculty in the lobby amidst the buttery smell of popcorn. People of all ages sported the wearable balloon art made by Margaret Foster, of Portland, and face-painting and paper airplane-making were also on offer.

With the a cappella Merimanders contributing a well-received performance, the open, and more music on tap from a jazz trio led by pianist Ahmad Hussan Muhammad, Warner’s intent was to offer arts for all tastes. In particular, he said, “I wanted to open it up to all ages.”

The day ended with Asphalt. Inside Olin, their performance was formally excellent, all pristine playing and solemn choreography. A high point, delivered as the musicians formed a long straight line across stage front, was Björk’s elegiac “Hyper-Ballad.”

But the proceedings seemed stiff, and after a few numbers alto sax player Ken Thomson announced the return to the terrace for the remainder of the set. The band led us out for a few more songs — and wound up a sparkling day at �ֲ��ý with a hopping Balkan polka, Goran Bregovic’s “Champagne.”

Jee Hye Kim ’12 and Kimberly Liaw ’12 sport colorful headgear during the Olin Arts Center anniversary party. Photo: Jose Leiva.

Olin Arts Center – News

Campus Construction Update: Sept. 22, 2022

Slideshow: Senior Thesis Exhibition — ‘Our arts students will help show us the way forward’

Ariel Abonizio of Cuiaba, Brazil “More haunting than ghosts”

Mayele Alognon, Louisville, Ky. “Parts of me are hidden, obscured, or spliced”

Celia Feal-Staub of Putney, Vt. “To experiment with form — and also with collapse”

Nick Eaton, Lake Oswego, Ore. “When an effort is made to stop and observe”

Sophie Gerry of Williamstown, Mass. “My act of remembering”

Emma Blaire Hall of Boise, Idaho “The messiness of the human experience”

Michael Hogue of Chicago “See brown and black people for who they are”

Michael Jones of Stratford, Conn. “Exploring the souls of my creations as real beings”

Otis Klingbeil of Powell, Ohio “Letting each new piece inform the next”

Eden Rickolt of Landenberg, Pa. “A parody of comfort and happiness”

Madeline Schapiro, Malibu, Calif. “A��garden of permanence”

Grace Smith of Williamstown, Mass. “A record of our experiences, pain, battles, and torments”

Jeffrey Spellman of West Roxbury, Mass. “Preconceived ideas are always incorrect”

Haiyao Tian of Beijing “Intimate, emotional, and meditative”

Philip Wu, New Taipei City, Taiwan “Defy the norm and provoke confusion”��

Multimedia: Three days with art and artists, music and musicians in Olin Arts Center

Wednesday, Feb. 5

Experimentation with Intent

9:21 a.m.

9:23 a.m.

9:47 a.m.

‘One Really Cool Detail’

10:55 a.m.

Practicing ‘Pathétique’

11:07 a.m.

11:16 a.m.

A Piece of the Puzzle

11:32 a.m.

‘Ohm’ in the Museum

12:16 p.m.

12:16 p.m.

Duke’s Musical Dialogue��

12:26 p.m.

12:37 p.m.

All Together Now��

3:35 p.m.

Shedding Light��

3:59 p.m.

Coming to Life��

6:01 p.m.

6:16 p.m.

‘Got a Little Something’ to Play��

7:24 p.m.

7:50 p.m.

Thursday, Feb. 6

Chipping Away��

2:25 p.m.

What Practice Is For��

2:53 p.m.

2:54 p.m.

3:07 p.m.

Photograph Tasks��

3:19 p.m.

3:23 p.m.

3:26 p.m.

3:33 p.m.

3:36 p.m.

“I usually hear of it, and I’ll come.”

6:23 p.m.

Percussion and Peace��

6:36 p.m.

6:37 p.m.

7:12 p.m.

Friday, Feb. 7

Handle with Care

1:19 p.m.

Encore, encore��

4:46 p.m.

�ֲ���ý at Night: Brass Ensemble rehearsal

�ֲ���ý at Night: Nude figure drawing

Picture story: Student art majors who ‘vibe off each other’

�ֲ���ý in the News: Aug. 7, 2015

Jason Castro

Owen Dodson ’36

�ֲ���ý Museum of Art

John Jenkins ’74

Tyler Mosher ’11, Matt Brockman ’08, Ross Brockman ’11

Ariel Abonizio of Cuiaba, Brazil
“More haunting than ghosts”

Mayele Alognon, Louisville, Ky.
“Parts of me are hidden, obscured, or spliced”

Celia Feal-Staub of Putney, Vt.
“To experiment with form — and also with collapse”

Nick Eaton, Lake Oswego, Ore.
“When an effort is made to stop and observe”

Sophie Gerry of Williamstown, Mass.
“My act of remembering”

Emma Blaire Hall of Boise, Idaho
“The messiness of the human experience”

Michael Hogue of Chicago
“See brown and black people for who they are”

Michael Jones of Stratford, Conn.
“Exploring the souls of my creations as real beings”

Otis Klingbeil of Powell, Ohio
“Letting each new piece inform the next”

Eden Rickolt of Landenberg, Pa.
“A parody of comfort and happiness”

Madeline Schapiro, Malibu, Calif.
“A��garden of permanence”

Grace Smith of Williamstown, Mass.
“A record of our experiences, pain, battles, and torments”

Jeffrey Spellman of West Roxbury, Mass.
“Preconceived ideas are always incorrect”

Haiyao Tian of Beijing
“Intimate, emotional, and meditative”

Philip Wu, New Taipei City, Taiwan
“Defy the norm and provoke confusion”��

�ֲ��ý at Night: Brass Ensemble rehearsal

�ֲ��ý at Night: Nude figure drawing

�ֲ��ý in the News: Aug. 7, 2015

�ֲ��ý Museum of Art