High School of Music and Art - Recolte Yearbook (New York, NY)

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ine Age or triiigintenment As sophomores, they began to lose their resemblance to Boy Scouts. First of all, the new sophs came in. They were indoctrinated by the old sophs. And they, in turn, indoctrinated their more settled classmates. They all began to be molded into one messy, sloppy unit. As fall progressed, the sophomores icon- i stantly reminded that sophomore was an old Greek word meaning wise tooli GE-X joined the general M 8 A swing. They wore black on Sophomore Day, sang rock 'n' roll on the stairs, and furtively smoked cigarettes outside of school. They I - i learned all about Life in biology class- You mean l'm related to that mangy look- ing monkey? . . . Aw, g'wan! . . and all about congruent triangles in geometry Was that side-angle-side, or angle-side-side, or angle-angle-side, or angle- angle-angle, jangle, mumble, fumble, glub, glub . . . They finally had someone wot 1 7 MLC! Ol A junior definitely does not resemble a Boy Scout. ll!l8rA juniors, as a matter of fact, did not resemble anything then known on the face of the earth. They were Upperclassmen with all the worries of the world on their sweat-shirt-clad shoulders. What problems they had to to look down on-Freshmen. They nominated attractive girls and stalwart boys for G. 0. office-although G. 0. membership was declining slowly. They invaded the Museum of lvlodern Art, and one art student was heard to proclaim loftily upon seeing a painting by John Marin, What is this museum coming to? I did better than that in SP3. Boy! what a stinky painting! Oh well, what can you expect from a bourgeois little museum like this? They invaded Carnegie Hall and a music student was heard to remark The third violinist-rflat-did you hear him go flat-boy, was that flat! And finally they took Regents in June itheir first, but unfortunately, not their lasti and they were free again, free to sleep late in the morning to get a job, and to grow taller tno kidding, some of the boys did grow that summer l The Age of Reason ? face, History-and that invention of the devil known innocuously as the Term Report, positively N0 slacks or shorts of any kind to be worn by females attending this high school, chem lab, or who burned himself today? The endless pieces of black paper in Design 5, a firedrill with a Real Fire, induction into Arista for the lucky few, the sneaky little system known as grubbing for points, I don't have to buy a ticket for the Semi-Annual, l'm in the Semi-Annual ..., senior assembly, and regents, Regents, REGENTS . . . New noses were constantly appearing, Sputnik was launched, and with it, many speeches about the importance of the Humanities, G. 0. membership was still declining, sneakers were getting dirtier and dirtier and the boys were getting taller .... 6 0 PM C. Z' . tr v e 9 9 4 J' 9. S QS' illustrated by Kevm McIntyre Q e ' ' N

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Class History One bright morning in September, hordes of pre-delinquent juveniles, none of them above four feet 1 tall, descended upon Music and Art like the proverbial locusts. There was something different about these I analogy would help. You know what analogy is-it stuck you on the College Boards. Ice cream is to pickle as raven is to writing-desk, or something of the sort. Anyway, here goes this particular analogy. A Boy Scout is loyal, helpful, kind, friendly, obedient, cheerful, courteous, thrifty, industrious, brave, clean, and reverent. So is a Music and Art Freshman. particular hordes, though,-they were us. Let us view them from our present height in society. Perhaps an X 9.-- .i The Age of Discovery As Freshmen the class of '59 was no exception. They were loyal-they went to G. 0. dances and really danced, helpful-they carried teachers' delaney books and ratted on seniors who tried to sneak out to 'G-ll WIIIAZ City College for lunch, kind-they brought stray dogs to the cafeteria for a meal thowever, the dogs were very smart and wouldn't eat anythingi, friendly-they struck up acquaintances with Seniors who tried to sell them passes to the eighth floor pool, obedient-they all joined the G. 0. and got for a bonus a white carnation, cheerful- they didn't mind staying in school every day, trudging up the hill in blinding snowstorms or spring mornings that cried for a short leave of absence, courteous-they said hello to teachers, thrifty -they saved money to go to art movies, and didn't understand them, industrious-they honestly prepared extra re- ports for World Geography, brave-they took their first mid-terms and looked at their report cards, and went hurne to face their parents, and even worse, they went back to school to face their friends who said Whad'ya get?, whad' ya get? clean-the girls washed their gym suits and boys took baths, and reverent-they believed in all sorts of things, religion, the essential goodness of man, and teachers. They lived through Johnny Tremain, that paragon of boyish virtue, Mrs. Bagar's cake sales, city scenes in tempera, the l, lV, and V chords, sections E and F in the cafe- teria, and finally, the last day of school. How did they get through the first year unscathed? lt will always remain one of Nature's mysteries. Maybe Walt Disney will look into it one of these days. ..L..ff-'- 5, ...AQ C r' 6, CW' ffwwb G 0' 'G-0' -'sua

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? Ntxlew ,Ami The W of M9 XAK liV -.gg-gl-I YW ill ,' i I --.. -1.1. -.,---' -1.-.. 1...-- --1-. it, l..---' ...,.--- 11-1- L-.i ,,-,.1v-I-'- ..l.-1-1- Who were those bronzed, lean giants lwell, maybe not giants, exactlyi and sylph-like maidens with sultry eyes and scarlet lips, those veritably demi-gods who stepped arrogantly into the hallowed halls of Music and Art last September . . . were they the Seniors? No, of course not, they were the teachers. The seniors were those small, wizened creatures who slithered in through the side entrance to avoid being seen by Mrs. Manheimer . . . I took off the last week of school in June? I? Really, what do you think I am, Mrs. Manheimer, a truant or something? Like I mean, l was taking care of my sick aunt. They were the ones who put No-Doz pills back in business, how else could they stay awake studying for State Scholarship exams and College Boards? They decided what colleges to apply to, went to interviews and were sure they said all the wrong things, and waited around for the innocent-looking white envelopes that enclosed acceptance or rejection, lite or death. They were introduced to American History, Shakespeare, and the Beat Generation in one large lump . . . some immortal unknown said, Whoever told me the Senior year was the easiest? Art Survey--there were definitely ninety-eight painters of the Italian Renaissance with unpronounceable names that all sounded like Lasagna, Senior Day, when it was no fun to sneak into the Gym any more, because you were allowed to go. Agitators for the Senior Prom-- Aw c'mon, it's only five dollars down and a dollar a month for the next twenty years. Someone wrote a pamphlet Ten Ways To Get Out of the Lunchroom Before the Warning Bell. And then there was good ,old history-eco, with the four minute break between periods that slowly narrowed to seven seconds, as the teacher kept droning on . . . the basketball team, that certainly had spirit, if nothing else . . . everyone ate lunch, but hardly ever in the lunchroom-talk in the lunchroom, do homework in the lunchroom, but EAT there? There were a startling number of absences. . . More people came into Arista inow there were eight whole boys in Arista, iust think of thati. Assembly lost some of its glitter . . . it was disgusting to think, after all the trouble they went through to get to be seniors, they'd have to start all over being freshmen next year. What ever happened to the G. 0.? Contrary to public opinion, those were not paper airplanes being thrown around in Senior Orchestra-those were paper rockets. There was so much to think about and so much to do-photographs for the Yearbook-more term reports, the senior outing, the varsity show, homework . . . and then it all flew too quickly. The last report cards, the last Regents, everything was the last . . . graduation, which was the very last . . . and the boys were really tall this time . . . at last. illuslraterl by Kevin Mcflnty rt