hearing-aid / who now has heard of Leo Stein?

Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas

Jo Davidson, Between Sittings. New York: Dial Press, 1951, pp. 174-175—

To [sculpt] a head of Gertrude [Stein] was not enough—there was so much more to her than that. So I did a seated figure of her—a sort of modern Buddha.

I had known her since my first trip to France. She and her brother Leo had two adjoining studios. Doors had been cut through, connecting the two studios; and every Saturday afternoon, the studios were jammed with visitors of various nationalities, either gaping, in earnest discussions, or laughing at the Matisses and the Picassos. Gertrude would stand with her back to the fireplace, her hands clasped behind her back, watching the crowd like a Cambodian caryatid, wearing a smile of patience, looking as if she knew something that nobody else did.

In the other studio, Leo, tall and lean, with a red beard, would talk earnestly about esthetics to anyone who was prepared to listen. In the excitement of his conversation, he generally twisted a button of his listener's waistcoat until it became a straitjacket. One could not get a word in edgewise. All one could do was to wait patiently for him to let go of the button and then make an escape.

Years later I was walking along Fifth Avenue in New York when I ran into Leo Stein. He was no longer bearded, and was wearing a conspicuous hearing-aid. He greeted me effusively: “Remember when I used to talk and talk and never would listen. Now I want to hear and can’t.”

Leo and Gertrude Stein (kaput)

 

the anatomy of a conference / design education

download pdf

Earlier this week, I posted online this six-page pdf of a printed booklet that served as the schedule of events at a gathering that I was partly responsible for in 2005. It was a conference about design in relation to teaching—not only graphic design, but a more inclusive category, including, for example, industrial and architectural design. The conference title was THE BAUHAUS AND BEYOND 1919-2005: The Shape of Design Education.

Although this conference took place almost twenty years ago, it may be of value to current design faculty at art schools, colleges, universities, art centers, and museums. Conferences (whether online or in-person) can be inspiring events for both faculty and students. But they may as first appear to require too much effort on the part of those who organize them, or perhaps they aren’t affordable.

This booklet documents a conference that was one of three that were organized and hosted by members of the graphic design faculty and students at the University of Northern Iowa. In all three cases, the conferences were carried out with all but zero funding. A "call for proposals" poster was prepared, and sent out, months in advance, postage free, by distributing an email to prospective participants, with a pdf attached. Those who participated in the conference (whether presenters or attendees) were required to provide their own transportation, lodging and meals.

No honoraria or travel allowances were given for presenters, albeit with two exceptions, consisting of prominent speakers who had traveled in and were speaking elsewhere in the region, so that some costs could be shared between schools. The conference were purposely held on days of the week (Friday evening, Saturday and Sunday morning) when the departmental building spaces would most likely be available. Parking might also have been a problem (as is nearly always true for anything other than sports events), but that problem was avoided because campus parking was free and unrestricted on weekends.

Particular attention was given to making the conference schedule align with already-scheduled campus events, such as the annual student art exhibition, and an annual graphic design student portfolio review. Components were scheduled in such a way that participants might easily choose to be present for only the one full-day sequence of events, which took place on Saturday.

We used this method of sponsoring conferences on three occasions, over the span of three or four years. The approach worked reasonably well each time. Comparable information about the two other conferences will be posted here in the near future. Again, the full multi-page pdf can be downloaded here.

do portraits begin to resemble their subjects?

William Zorach, Art Is My Life: The autobiography of William Zorach. Cleveland OH: World Publishing, 1967, p 130—

There is a disconcerting thing about portraits. Someone does your portrait and you don't like it, your friends don't like it; everyone says it doesn't look like you. A few years go by and you look like that portrait and all your family and all your friends say, "What a good likeness." People, they say, begin to look like their dogs. Maybe this is somewhat the same thing.