Massachusetts College of Art and Design - Palette and Pen Yearbook (Boston, MA)

Page 33 text:

IRIS FEDERICO And somewhat later Iris would come in, for in the late mornings her ideas were ready and she came and told them to us and they were good and we did as she suggested, — poor Iris always chasing yesterday; gen- erous Iris giving us all she had of time and food and money and excitement. BERNARD FLINTON Also having eaten one of Ma’s weirdly reported break- fasts or maybe something that he brewed himself, Ben was one of those who sometimes told us how they ate for one week on a buck. But he seemed to have the strength to paint black striking paintings, for biting etchings, and for entertaining certain ladies. PANGS GHIKAS When the discussion grew more heated Ghikas would put in a short word for no edges, exploding with laughter at a pun and scowling darkly at an interruption. Jerky, black-browed, dogged, Pete did good ones, — like diaries always making a fresh start. You tell ' em, Ghikas . Ghikas says it’s all right. Kirm (icxn ' BERG And then there was, for a refreshing paradox, in com- plete contradiction, there was Ruth, who incredibly combined an aspect of cold marble beauty with a hot exhibition of trucking, dancing her defiance, varying to sudden warmth, — from a gorgeous sense of humor to a wary distrust and an unreserved denunciation of the sentimental.

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MARJORIE COLUNS And then there was the Collins, the inestimable Collins, demanding our troubles, confronting us with our talents, announcing our inherent good intentions, — for in pure friendship we were affronted and our souls stripped bare. But we loved it. Marge. These things were strange to us, but they were more generous than anything we knew. WINIFRED COSTANZA We liked to look at Winnie, dark and rich and deep red and glowing, and greeting us with a smile, always so capable, collected and serene, — painting really seriously in class, doing outside etchings, but quick when the week-ends came to get out and away for her fun. JEAN DAY There was Jean to meet us with her home work under her arm, candor upon her lips; but under a semblance of child-like-ness a dark purpose had its way. Work blossomed in the night, and each minute was remem- bered and no trust betrayed. Through flood and snow and beckoning of spring day, Jean always met the dead- line. JOHN DOROZYNSKI There was big, blond, agreeable, easy Dorozynski from the apartment of so many fabulous tales, critique of the funny radio programs, wielding a powerful com- pressed charcoal. He was one of a company which has often maddened us, with sudden bursts of conversation and a fund of jokes to raise the hair of any but the whiffle-headed.

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BEATRICE H0EMP:S There was Bea arriving hot or frozen on her bicycle, to paint too hard or not at all. She took a dictionary to bed and a great hunger to her heart, and tried to write with a pen with a plume; and she burned her candle at both ends and her work still smelled of the lamp. MARY KITTREDGE There was big, beautiful, blond Mary, deeply engrossed in many things, — the Symphony and skiing and tracking down type-faces and sailing in the summer and reading widely, to whom with wisdom Mr. Major told the Parable of the Talents, — for when Mary handed in the problem it was of professional caliber. YVONNE NEAL There was Yvonne and her blond and silver drawings who blushed the Puritan in us, asking the question that is never asked, with laughter at the abashed moment, — but tweaking our doubts of things we had dumbly be- lieved true, and starting our wonder at things that we had never dreamed of. WILLIAM O’CONNOR Like a small lively bottle of good spirits or a buoyant cork, Oaky soberly engineered large canvases in con- centrated effort, but was always ready when rest periods came to chin or dance or wrestle; if he had worries, and we suspect he must have, he never let us know it.