Art School Daze 2

Fire River Walter King

I hardly ever saw Walt during the time we attended CCAD. That's probably because, in addition to a demanding course load, he had a job, a wife and a baby boy. He's now faculty at CCAD, and is a talented and prolific painter. He's also an engaging writer and speaker on all things Art. During our reunion reception, he described to me the history of different color systems, and did so in a way that made me want to know more. If only I had felt the same when I was glueing Munsell chips into my workbook, back in the day.




Conference III Roger Bisbing

During our CCAD years, most of Roger's work, at least what I saw, was in wood and on a largeish scale. Among those I remember was articulated body armor, and a tank with moveable parts and treads, all made out of wood. That's why I find this recent piece especially interesting, since it looks nothing like his old stuff. It depicts one of a series of meetings, or more accurately, meetings indicated by arrays of tiny, empty metal folding chairs. A critic in the Washington Post wrote that the pieces have "an eerie power that belies their cutesiness." The photo can't really convey the meticulous detail, right down to the polished gym floor. It's very cool, and yes, eerie.



Bad Dog Marley! illustrated by Richard Cowdrey

Rick was a tall, thin dude with a mass of wild, red curls. Now, he's a tall, thin dude with still-red, wavy hair. He also looks too young to be a grandfather four times over, but he is. Bad Dog Marley! is an adaption for children of John Grogan's best-selling Marley & Me. It's become a best-seller in its own right, and Rick has illustrated a sequel, A Very Marley Christmas, which will appear in bookstores this September.


Walter King, Portfolio Link

Washington Post article "Thinking Small Has Diminishing Returns" Link

Illustration by Richard Cowdrey Link

Art School Daze

Last week, the 1981 graduating class of Columbus College of Art and Design met for a somewhat impromptu reunion. It was inspired by the passing of my former classmate Cindy Baun, who succumbed to cancer last year. When you've been on the planet for only 21 or 22 years, the axiom "life is short" is just a tired cliché. Last week, it seemed like graduation happened oh, maybe ten years ago, but the evidence didn't support this fantasy. Once-girlish faces are now lined, and shaggy, long-haired boys have gone either bald or gray. Life is short, and youth is the briefest part of the whole.

I was a transfer student when I started at CCAD, and had the option of living either in the dorms or in my own apartment. During the admission process, Mom and I went to visit the dorms, and both of us agreed that they were horrid. The girls' dorms were roach-infested, squalid little apartments, in the middle of a dangerous neighborhood. But in those rooms many warm and life-long friendships were forged. The pictures posted on the reunion blog document a lot of fun...and I missed much of it.

Since I can't do those years over, I lived it up to the hilt for three sleep-deprived days. Thanks, former classmates, for being so generous and affectionate to the (former) girl who thought she was too good to live in the dorms. Much love to you all.

I graduated with a number of incredibly talented people, and want to showcase some of their work. I have no rights to the images I've reproduced, so if you wish to have your work removed from this blog, please let me know. Links to artists' websites or reviews are at the end of this post.


Vase, by William Shearrow

If I wanted to illustrate the concept of "Joy," I'd probably use a picture of Bill Shearrow. Bill was a fine arts ceramics major, a breed of artist whom most of the rest of us hardly ever saw. But Bill was too interested in, oh...life and people and fun to ever hole himself up in the mudroom for good. Voted "Most likely to start dancing spontaneously." I just made that up. Bill, upon hearing music he likes, just starts dancing. It's a beautiful thing, perhaps as beautiful as this reverse-Raku vase.


Hot Dog, neon sculpture by Michael Flechtner

Mike, who was a few years older than the rest of us, was the RA in the boys' dorm. "Best RA ever" is a quote from a classmate who lived in those dorms in the fall of 1977. Perhaps that's because Mike led all the boys over to the girls' dorm to serenade them in the first week of classes. Apparently, it was a hell of an ice-breaker. Mike was memorable in many ways: he rode a scooter (an anomaly in mid-70's Columbus), owned the first Walkman I had ever seen, and created little "pocket sculptures" from lucite and LED lights, one of which I purchased as an Xmas present for my brother.

After grad school, Mike concentrated his artistic efforts on the once plebeian craft of bending glass neon tubes. His work is an homage to vintage neon signage, as well as the ethnic and cultural gumbo that makes up his now-home city, Los Angeles.


Father's Day Card by Salli Swindell

I remember Salli as being the prettiest girl in our class, which I admit does sound a little condescending. She has a lot more going on than fabulous cheekbones (and she does have fabulous cheekbones), judging from her greeting card designs. I've always favored Great Arrow cards when I had a choice, and Salli's design accumen has probably helped influence many of my purchases. All of Great Arrow's cards are silk-screened as well, which gives them a richness in color and texture not found in more mainstream cards. If you live in Chicago and want to see more of their designs, visit Paper Boy, on Belmont just east of Southport.

There's more art and classmates, which I'll post either tomorrow or on Saturday.

William Shearrow Pottery Link

Michael R. Flechtner Neon Art Link

Salli Swindell Cards at Great Arrow Link

Paperboy and Uncle Fun Link

Public Service Announcement

Graduation Day, June 1981. L to R: Mom, 22-year-old knucklehead, Dad

The flurry of correspondence among my former art school classmates is heating up. I just had nice convo with my ex-sorta boyfriend, who reminded me of stories and people I haven't thought of in 25 years. The brain is a funny thing; how can something so profoundly forgotten suddenly be accessed? Now, I'm starting to dream about art school.

A call went out for old photos, and I found the above. If I remember correctly, I had terrible problems in 1981: A "C" in Design II (or was it III?), a guy had dumped me, and I had a pimple on my chin. Not to trivialize the angst of youth, but I can't help but make a comparison to my current situation. I've just survived eight months of cancer treatment. And, I'd give anything to hug my Dad again.

This is where the public service announcement comes in. My father died of metastasized prostate cancer. We just recently lost a friend to the same, at the young age of 57. Gentlemen, please go and get a checkup and a PSA test. I know a lot of men put off getting an examination because it's unpleasant, but prostate cancer is very insidious. If it isn't detected early, it can easily spread to other organs. Remind yourself that you're doing it for everyone who loves you.

Sunday Music: Elvis Costello and the Attractions

The girl wearing the purple pants on the left is me, circa 1980. I was attending art school in Columbus, Ohio at the time. The photo is copied from a blog set up by one of my former classmates. It won't mean much to any of you, but if you'd like to see lot of regrettable hair and some very good drawings (not mine!), you can check it out at: http://ccadclassof1981.blogspot.com/

I'd like to pretend that my musical tastes at the time were cutting-edge, but honestly, like a good small-town girl, I was a huge Bruce Springsteen fan. I even drove all night with friends to see him in Indianapolis, possibly the only time I've ever been to the city. I had classmates with more sophisticated taste. My friend Jon even talked me into buying the single Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division, a decision I've never regretted.

The party was outdoors, probably in the back yard of one of those remnants of residential neighborhood just east of downtown. A subwoofer was probably propped against the screen of the back porch, blasting the kind of ambiance that nearly always brought a visit from Columbus' finest. After the cops left, the volume would just creep up. Along with 70's big-arena rock, a few records reflecting the punk and new wave explosion (so far from Columbus) were ending up on the turntable. I'm sure one of them was Elvis Costello and the Attraction's 1979 album Armed Forces. Man, I know I wore my own copy out. Here's Oliver's Army, as performed on a Brit pop show.