Iowa Insect Series: Attention to Detail

Cicada © David Versluis and Roy R. Behrens

Above In the late 1980s, driving a U-Haul from the Deep South to Cincinnati, as we neared our destination, we began to hear a deafening buzz—and soon we ran into a boundless cloud of the seventeen-year locust, the cicada. They were everywhere—everywhere. What an indelible welcome.

Another batch of the seventeen-year cicada will soon arrive in Iowa (in another week or so, I think). Be not alarmed or overwhelmed. They're actually quite wonderful. Enjoy them while you can—they may soon go the way of the monarch, the hummingbird, the garter snake.

Long live corn and ethanol in the land of hulk and money.

And guns.

In the meantime, my good friend David Versluis has anticipated the emergence of the cicada by installing an exhibition of his and my collaborative digital montages (collages made on computer), called Insects of Iowa: Attention to Detail. See exhibit installation below.

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David Plowden, from "Conversation with David Plowden" in Christopher R. Rossi, ed., David Plowden's Iowa. Iowa City IA: Humanities Iowa, 2012—

When you get to Iowa, the land may be gentle and the land may be very subtle, but the sky isn't. You live out here under the weather and at your own risk, for god's sake. You may have all of the most up-to-date equipment, all the pesticides and chemicals you need—everything. But you have no control over the weather. And I think that's one of the most important things about living in this part of the world—that you could be wiped out by the weather, or you could be blessed by the weather, but you live by the weather.…

Mad Dog Poster | Sara Peters

Wrestling poster © Sara Peters (2014)

Above One of sixty-plus "Mad Dog" Vachon posters designed In the spring of 2014 by graphic design students in the Department of Art at the University of Northern Iowa, to promote the National Wrestling Hall of Fame Dan Gable Museum in Waterloo IA. Produced as a community project in a beginning graphic design course (as taught by Roy R. Behrens), this is one of three posters designed by undergraduate student Sara Peters (©2014).

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B.F. Skinner, Particulars of My Life. New York: New York University Press, 1984, p. 44—

She [his mother] had one ability about which there was no doubt: she could find four-leaf clovers. If she saw a patch of clover on someone's lawn, she would bend down and almost immediately come up with a stem with four leaves.  She would frequently find two or three while the rest of us searched in vain. Her satisfaction was intense, and she never overlooked an opportunity to demonstrate her skill.

Mad Dog Poster | Alexa Weilein

Wrestling poster © Alexa Weilein (2014)

Above One of sixty-plus "Mad Dog" Vachon posters designed In the spring of 2014 by graphic design students in the Department of Art at the University of Northern Iowa, to promote the National Wrestling Hall of Fame Dan Gable Museum in Waterloo IA. Produced as a community project in a beginning graphic design course (as taught by Roy R. Behrens), this is one of three posters designed by undergraduate student Alexa Weilein (©2014).

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Allan Sly, "Excerpts from Taped Reminiscences of Black Mountain" in Mervin Lane, ed., Black Mountain College: Sprouted Seeds: An Anthology of Personal Accounts. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1990, p. 66—

[Bauhaus artist Josef] Albers was amongst those who came [to a Black Mountain College picnic in 1935]. When it came to toasting the hot dogs over the open fire, most speared their dogs with unbent coat hangers, but Albers preferred to bend his coat hanger into a letter S—laying his hot dog on top of it, which he then held over the fire. We pointed out to him the advantage of spearing it with the prong. But he said, "I like very much the S-form." His dog fell off into the fire.

Mad Dog Poster | Emily Thompson

Wrestling poster © Emily Thompson (2014)

Above One of sixty "Mad Dog" Vachon posters designed In the spring of 2014 by graphic design students in the Department of Art at the University of Northern Iowa, to promote the National Wrestling Hall of Fame Dan Gable Museum in Waterloo IA. Produced as a community project in a beginning graphic design course (as taught by Roy R. Behrens), this is one of three posters designed by undergraduate student Emily Thompson (©2014).

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Edward Marsh, A Number of People: A Book of Reminiscences. New York: Harper and Brothers, 1939, p. 138—

The only drawback to her [Lady Wenlock's] companionship was her extreme deafness, which caused her to carry about a peculiar silver ear-trumpet [a horn-like hearing aid], looking like an entrée dish, or anything rather than what it was…At a luncheon in Florence she suddenly presented it to her neighbor, an Italian Duke, who gallantly filled it with green peas from a dish which a footman was handing to him at the same moment; and at one of her balls in London she left it on the piano, where it was mistaken for an ashtray, so that when the Prince of Wales took her in to supper and addressed an opening remark to her, she immediately covered him all over with cigarette ends.

Mad Dog Poster | Ekaterina Korzh

Wrestling poster © Katie Korzh (2014)

Above One of sixty "Mad Dog" Vachon posters designed In the spring of 2014 by graphic design students in the Department of Art at the University of Northern Iowa, to promote the National Wrestling Hall of Fame Dan Gable Museum in Waterloo IA. Produced as a community project in a beginning graphic design course (as taught by Roy R. Behrens), this is one of two posters designed by design student Ekaterina (Katie) Korzh (©2014).

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Joyce Cary, The Horse's Mouth. New York: Harper and Row, 1965—

"B-but, Mr. Jimson, I w-want to be an artist."

"Of course you do," I said, "everybody does once. But they get over it, thank God, like the measles and the chickenpox. Go home and go to bed and take some hot lemonade and put on three blankets and sweat it out."

"But Mr. Jimson, there must be artists."

"Yes, and lunatics and lepers, but why go and live in an asylum before you're sent for? If you find life a bit dull at home," I said, "and want to amuse yourself, put a stick of dynamite in the kitchen fire, or shoot a policeman. Volunteer for a test pilot, or dive off Tower Bridge with five bob's worth of roman candles in each pocket. You'd get twice the fun at about one-tenth the risk."

Collections & Recollections | Mackenzie Pape

Collections Poster © Mackenzie Pape (2014)

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Mackenzie Pape (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Julian Bigelow, quoted by Ed Regis, Who Got Einstein's Office? New York: Basic Books, 1988—

[John] von Neumann [Hungarian-born American mathematician] lived in this elegant house in Princeton [NJ]. As I parked my car and walked in [for a job interview] there was this very large Great Dane bouncing around on the front lawn. I knocked on the door and von Neumann, who was a small, quiet, modest kind of a man, came to the door and bowed to me and said, "Bigelow, won't you come in," and so forth, and this dog brushed between our legs and went into the living room. He proceeded to lie down on the rug in front of everybody, and we had the entire interview—and this lasted maybe forty minutes, with the dog wandering all around the house. Towards the end of it, von Neumann asked me if I always traveled with the dog. But of course it wasn't my dog, and it wasn't his either, but von Neumann, being a diplomatic, middle-European type of person—he kindly avoided mentioning it until the end.

Collections & Recollections | Andy Snitker

Collections Poster © Andy Snitker (2014)

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Andy Snitker (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Edward Marsh, Ambrosia and Small Beer. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1965—

A soldier up for medical exam proved to have been wearing a truss for the past six years, and was classified as P.E. or Permanently Exempt. On his way out he gave this news to his pal, who immediately asked for the loan of the truss, which was granted. The examiner asked how long he had been wearing it, and he said, "Six years," whereupon he was classified as M.E. "What's that?" he asked. "Middle East." "How can I go to the Middle East when I've been wearing a truss for six years?" "If you can wear a truss for six years upside-down, you can jolly well ride a camel for six months."

Collections & Recollections | Kathryn Ryherd

Collections Poster © Kathryn Ryherd

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Kathryn Ryherd (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens. Below CD-ROM label for her final portfolio package.

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Christopher Morley [seeing two hair pieces of the same small size in a store window]—

They're alike as toupées.

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James Joyce—

Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth, and lost the job.

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Stephen Leacock—

Writing? Writing's easy. All you have to do is to put down whatever occurs to you. But the occurring, now that's hard.

© Kathryn Ryherd (2014)

Collections Posters | Rhiannon Rasmussen

Collections Posters © Rhiannon Rasmussen (2014)

Above Designs for a set of three posters for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Rhiannon Rasmussen (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Eric Morecambe—

Would you like to hear how I asked for his daughter's hand in marriage?…I said, "I would like your daughter for my wife." And he said, "But I've never met your wife. Bring her round and we'll talk about it." 

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Edward Marsh—

[Ned Lutyens] thought as a little boy that the Lord's Prayer began with "Our Father Charles in heaven, Harold be thy name."

Collections & Recollections | Kate Green

Collections Poster © Kate Green (2014)

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Kate Green (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Cedric Hardwicke, The Irreverent Memoirs of Sir Cedric Hardwicke. Garden City NY: Doubleday, 1961—

He [his father, a physician] could seldom get anyone's name right, including those of people he treated, and in later years, when I was enlarging my circle of friends, he was not above telling me, "you had a telephone call from a Mr. Vaseline"—and I could interpret that as meaning Mr. Basil Dean, the producer. And my father had a most distinctive rechristening for Tallulah Bankhead; she was known to him as Tarara Buncombe in later years.

The Grand Piano | Aaron Van Fossen

Grand Piano Timeline © Aaron Van Fossen (2014)

Above Proposal for an infographic timeline about the development of the grand piano, designed by Aaron Van Fossen, undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Louis Agassiz, in Lane Cooper, ed., Louis Agassiz as a Teacher (1917)—

In 1847 I gave an address at Newton, Massachusetts, before a Teachers' Institute conducted by Horace Mann. My subject was grasshoppers. I passed around a large jar of these insects, and made every teacher take one and hold it while I was speaking. If any one dropped the insect, I stopped till he picked it up. This was at that time a great innovation, and excited much laughter and derision. There can be no true progress in the teaching of natural science until such methods become general.

Collections & Recollections 3 | Riley Place

Collections Poster © Riley Place (2014)

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Riley Place (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Anthony Burgess, Little Wilson and Big God. London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1987, p. 69—

Mr. Magoo bids the normally sighted, or the smug spectacle-wearers, laugh at uncorrected myopia. He shakes hands with a bear he takes to be Dr. Milmoss, thinks a skyscraper scaffolding a restaurant, believes the seabed to be a motorway, but he always comes through unscathed and disabused. My adventures have been less sensational. I once entered a bank in Stratford-on-Avon and ordered a drink. I have waved back at people waving at someone else. There was an electric sky sign in All Saints, Manchester, which read UPHOLSTERED FURNITURE and I read as UPROARIOUSLY FUNNY. In the army I failed to salute officers and, fiercely rebuked, then saluted privates. I have spoken to women in the streets I thought I knew and thus got to know them…The myopic eye is not lazy; it is too busy creating meanings out of vague données. Compensation for lifelong myopia comes in old age; presbyopia supervenes on the condition and cancels it. I am forced now into perfect sight and I am not sure like it.

Collections & Recollections 2 | Riley Place

Collections Poster © Riley Place (2014)

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Riley Place (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Colin M. Turbayne, in The Myth of Metaphor. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1971—

Naming, numbering, or sorting things is not just noticing what is out there fixed and settled. Nevertheless, there are arguments about sorting. These are mainly verbal. There are few about tigers and lions. There may be some about "tigers" and "lions." We do not remain in disagreement for long about the marks of the tiger, and that lion-like animal. Is it a sort of tiger or a sort of lion? Or is it a new sort? The convenient way chosen for the tigron was the last. We can make new sorts as we please. But those that we have grown accustomed to, we tend to think are determined and set out by nature. These also were grouped and named in an arbitrary manner. They might have been sorted in a different way.

Collections & Recollections | Riley Place

Collections Poster © Riley Place (2014)

Above Design for a poster for a hypothetical exhibition called Collections and Recollections: Arrangements of Related Forms: Thoughts on the odd things that people collect as well as the visual patterns that come from arranging things, designed by Riley Place (2014), undergraduate graphic design student at the University of Northern Iowa, in a course called Graphic Design 2, as taught by Roy R. Behrens.

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Mark Van Doren, in The Autobiography of Mark Van Doren. New York: Greenwood Press, 1968—

A boy named Eddie Shell came one afternoon to play with Frank [his brother] and me, and at the hour of going home did not know how to do so. This is a malady that afflicts all children, but my mother was not sure how she should handle it in Eddie's case. She consulted us secretly as to whether he should be asked to stay for supper; we thought not, so she hinted to him that his mother might be expecting him. He was so slow in acting upon the hint that we were all in despair and began to feel guilty because we had not pressed him to stay. What I remember now is Eddie standing at last on the other side of the screen door and trying to say goodbye as if he meant it. My mother said warmly: "Well, Eddie, come and see us again." Whereupon he opened the door and walked in.