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

Text from Pages 1 - 88 of the 1947 volume:

«-i 5 ;; . ' vv. ' v - V. 6 • ' ’ ' • . y, ’ ;.!’V . . - « ' ■ =’.?!� ;,;, - ' :. ■ J ■•■_- ; ,i - ■ ,A. • ' - IJ ., ; 4, .. : J , 4 . i-Aj-gi’ ;1- . ■■‘S ■ ' ' f- ■ ii.-. ' ' -? u is? V • ■ 1 - i ' V rvPr - ; ' ._-r ' i 0 -i. . foreword If accepted In the truest sense, the M.S.A. Annual Is a record — an historical record of the activities of the stu- dents working under guidance so that upon graduation, they may better adjust themselves to personal, civic, na- tional and world problems. As the casual observer turns these pages, he will observe just photographs, write-ups and reproductions of student endeavors. However, to the stu- dents, the Instructors and the administration, his 1946-47 Annual can reveal and recall much that Is not In print. We can recreate a year of unprecedented activity with new philosophical and material adjustments to the current and future demands placed upon us. We can gain satisfaction In the local and national recognition given to our Institution. As to future action, do not be content to accept the Idea that human life consists solely In adjustment to the dominant physical and social environment. Use your train- ing and learnings wisely and with courage. Adhere to high standards and realize the satisfaction of Invention. Do not always be governed by the Immediate consequences of your contribution. Understand order, as you fulfill your own nature In cooperating with your environment. Yours Is the opportunity to know the Realm of the Arts. Your con- quests may be many. Your achievements may be ad- mirable or questionable: but the method upon which you have based your expression can have a permanent Im- portance to man, as he ever moves forward. Your Horizons shall continue to be my concern. To a sculptor who is aware of his own ability and can say, This I set out to do, and this I have done ; To a teacher who has :hown us the way of clay — and though many of us have brushed the dried clay from our hands, the feel and the form of the clay has remained; and who has given us, too, the wisdom of his years, — in art, music, and philosophy, that we might form our own ideas; To a man, who has arrived at his phi- losophy of art and life and has reached that sure ground that we all long to find for ourselves, — we dedicate this annual, — with the hope that his will to achieve will not be lacking in us, — his students. this is a senior looking ahead into the past ju - ' yf 3° . red mea V e ocV.er ' . •-.V ' •’ -� • ' sr.:“ t ' sS ' rrt i , ..• ' • •s, ' S«i -“ S . — jtf ' - ' “ _r « ,.w. ' � ” l-C. ytr ijrw ' - Elaine Biganess • Tom Bruneau • Lydia Breed • Anthony Barbaro • Alice Coolidge • . . fiery eagerness, and, of course, those startling tresses . . homework — with little Kathy climbing to my knee? . . bobbed hair, shirt-sleeves, and the power to do ..toward 10:15, Tallulah, and ' toons . . Q. E. D, — all candles have two ends V Esther Connor • • John Forster . Jean Courtney . Jean Graham • Helen Hochstein • . a mischievous humor equalled only by her quickness . big, exploding laugh and loud influence . ambitious, frivolous at moments, and it ' s always Dan . a bonny lass, a bonny style . primitive designs, shorthand specialist Elizabeth Patch . Dorothy Petze • Gracie Philbrick . Gail Rogers . Jacob Panian . . . long brown hair, crossword puzzles, Ruthie and books . . a terrific line in drawing . . calm and collected, quiet yet amused . . toujours Gail! . . jolly, jovial, heard that one before, Jake Muriel Webb er . Ela ine Smithers • Gertrude Wade . Helene Rones . Stephen Thomas . . . ardent and hardworking, a housewife too . . choice command of words, terpsichore, long thoughts . . she thinks diagonally between two points . . perfection plus, pleasant personality, plenty of punch . . our redheaded philosopher, personality plus ' 1 Jacqueline Craig • James Gilmore . Alice Dow . Sarah Azadian • Ben Black • . . a calm, quiet personality supplements her gleaming eyes . . Well, you see, uranium ' s out, bus chairs are in . . nothing is better left unsaid . . the girl with the verichrome heart . . who beats the teacher to the problem Alice Kirby • Irene Horack . Gloria Harrington . Irene Myerson . Amelia Gloss . . sporty, black bangs, bold painting . straight ahead, Glo? . straight ahead, Irene! . eyelashes, helpful hints . sagacity, strawberry roans, and small sprouts Lois Marks . Sally Fairbanks • Mary Malandrino • Shirley Nickerson • Jeanne Murphey . . . our tenderist, the renderist . . as gold shimmers; diminutive with finesse . . it ' s so dark at 5:30 A.M. in Billerica . . depth of personality, that nonchalance, and music . . gentle, persuasive; a Victorian with variations Lorna NA alker • . . full of tricks — fun Geraldine Palestrant • . . our own Bergman Ele anor Paine • • • time waits for her Elinor Palmer • • • « confusing combination of delicacy and volubility Virginia Wenzier • • • casual and coffee-loving; determined when around Eleanor Davis . . . president Mary Malandrino . . . vice-president Lois Marks • • . secretary Alice Coolidge • . . treasurer Helene Rones . . . president — student association Elsdnor Allsn • • • interests, deep-rooted in footlights and curtains! Jodn Connelly • • • Picasso, Braque, and there ' s always Joan Paula Cahill . . . small sophisticate with great amount of zip Janet Doub • • • °ur unanswerable retort when our usefulness is questioned Eleanor Davis • • • heard and almost seen Nancy eare . • .carefree casualty from the clamflats Dorothy McLean . . • B. W. ' s pinup girl Carol Hanson • • .silent, remote, with a discerning intellect Ruth Doyle • • . world weary, a deep lover of art Ellie Morse . . . tiny Ellie, spark of wit and helpful always Joe Coletta • . . spontaneous humor disguised by Inter-changing ascents Mary Murphy . . . our social butterfly Anne Levitsky • • wide-eyed, imaginative Anne; John, and Brahms ' Symphonies Henrietta Lockwood • . • got a mat knife, a ruler, or a minute? Ruth Simonds • . • loquacious, but efficiency personified with — Oh! that red converl Norman Palmstrom . • . despite denials, a thinker and a diplomat Chester Colson • • . Father swallowed a thermometer and died by degrees Elinor Phillips . • . Immortalized with a Vogue on her knee arren Spaulding ...the Invisible worker Robert Grady . . . ah fishing! And a non-polluted trout stream junior class President Vice-President Secretary Treasurer In three years, reluctantly, we are facing the gray ghost of our own pent-up knowledge, the self-criticism that has come in the eleventh hour. The time that seemed so long is running out, and uncovered in its passage a balance between what we did and what we had hoped to do. Not that we are frightened by it, or too greatly alarmed. It comes, rather, as a blow to our pride, to what little confidence we had, as the recognition of a weak line, a borrowed idea, or a hasty judgment. We had been seeing our work only through the eyes of others, feeling that it could not bear our own analysis. Rejection and acceptance were swift, impression transient. Now, the missing overtones and subtleties are rising, and the opinions we re- served for others are turning inward. We are coming at last to know ourselves. We have another year: the time has come to put a clear eye to the canvas and a firm hand to the brush. Our own arts, ideas, and judgments are truer to us than any we can distill out of the past or present. The kindest critic we will know is at our shoulder — but he recognizes only the best. Dorothy Weafer George Lane Thomas Donlon Jean Wells Nancy Peering Time — weird and intangible, yet ever present, before whom the world pays hom- age on its tired knee; trying to grasp, in desperation, the hem of its garment and thus stay the hurrying hours. If it could but pause awhile for us to breathe — yet always we are rebuffed and we pick our- selves out of our corner only to discover its pace has increased. Time — yesterday we began, we sophis- ticated sophomores. Yet yesterday is eons ago and between then and now are left the vaguest recollections of a night ' s dream. A dream of things all huddled together in enormous space, yet the space, still lim- ited; the hushed warnings from the seats of the wise; smoothly bouncing subway cars in and out on endless tracks that stretch forever into the empty ether; blurred faces seen once, seen time and time again, lost in the maze of a Dali world; the escaping steam of New Haven trains somehow sounding like the kiss of a new brush on canvas; falling leaves coating the pavement with ice, and with all — the taste of midnight coffee; the front humer- uses with and without side Deltoids joining the Latissimus Dorsi at the external angular process; Kupfie ' s cadmium spreading over the brownstone Summer House for a Family of Four whose three foot overhang never does vanish at the horizon line and through- out the whole — the advancing and re- treating face of Blake ' s Tiger. Tearing the last vestige of fog from our eyes we discover time. Time — weird intangible and everpresent has increased his pace and even the junior cannot grasp his hand or halt his progress — time. Natalie Gallagher Sophomore III freshman class President Wilfred Sheldon Vice-President Charles McGregor Secretary George Bergner Treasurer Joseph Gropper If this year ' s bumper crop of freshmen, the largest ever, appears to suffer from a severe epi- demic of megalomania, don ' t call a psychiatrist. The year had not yet begun when we were eulo- gized as the cream of the crop, the pick of a mul- titude of artistic aspirants. Such praise and op- timism on the part of the faculty was bound to produce an occasional braggadocio or at least convert a flock of uncertain freshmen into a galaxy of bombastic hopefuls. By virtue of his preponderance, the knowledge- hungry veteran has dominated this class, making it a trifle older than freshmen groups in the past, and allegedly more sophisticated. Although he is no self-professed pedant, he has taken his work seriously, and this attribute has had a wholesome effect on all concerned. The class of 1950 has enjoyed its first year at MSA and has replied with cooperation and par- ticipation in all activities. We have strived earn- estly to live up to expectations, and before the next three years have passed we may prove well- deserving of our advance notices and premature praise. Painted initials of other classes decorate our intricate little forest of easels; we ' ve added ours. Suddenly, with the breath of June, we know what it means: that we are going too, leaving the paint marked cubicles which have been cloak and core of winter existence for two elective years. If we could do it again . . . ? We know more now than when we began school, wanting to do covers like Rockwell, landscapes like Hibbard. Now we curl a lip at commerce, maybe, and turn to art circle sophistication. Yet if we could do it again . . . grope less, understand more . . . for we may need prosaic skill and even the sticky platitudes of commerce, attributes as hard to come by as he taesthetic attitude. That attitude is worthy, the restless world needs it more, yet with it alone we hastily turn to our Thoreau. How do we live cheaply on flour, Indian meal, and molasses? Can we make colors from earths and berry dyes? And what ' s this about rammed earth construction if no Irishman ' s shanty is handy for boards with which to build a shack? Or, in the withering stare of the Philistine do we too resolve to be SUCCESSFUL, murmuring with glazed eyes How bad can greeting card design get? and We must go to New York, the publishers are there! But perhaps we make this promise to Art: that we will not unnecessarily stir the im- potent stew of academic against modern, commercial against fine, but serve to extend the cognate field of all art so that, slowly, it will become a realized need of the people, not a thing revolving in its own decay of bickering, last-resort teaching, cut-throat commissions, and aesthetic paralysis. Let us love the original spirit of art, for one thing is sure: as paint- ers born we eye life differently, more despairingly sometimes, yet more happily and often more clearly than others. Warren Spaulding Elaine Biganess Lydia Breed Janet Doub Ruth Doyle Sally Fairbanks John Forster Carol Hanson Alice Kirby Jeanne Murphy Elinor Palmer Norman Palmstrom Elizabeth Patch Ruth Simonds Muriel Webber Virginia Wenzier Anne Levitsky Warren Spaulding Charles Walkup • •••••••••••••••••«•••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I; !•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• • g :� gggggg« ggg« • ••• • ••••• • •••••••ggggggg • •••••••••• ••••• • ••• •••••••••••• ggg ggggggg « � � general design • • • • • • • • ♦ • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • e • • • e • • • • . • • • • • • • • • • • • e • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • e • • • • • • • • • • • • • e • • e • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • e • • • • • tee • • • • • • • • • e e • • e • • e • • • e • • • • • • • • • • • eeeeeee • ••••• • eeteeee eeeeeee • eeeeeee e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Sarah Azadlan Anthony Barbaro Joan Connelly Alice Coolidge Eleanor Davis Alice Dow James Gilmore Amelia Gloss Jean Graham Gloria Harrington Helen Hochstein Irene Horack Henrietta Lockwood Mary Malandrino Lois Marks Mary Murphy Eleanor Paine Geraldine Palastrant Jacob Panian Dorothy Petze Elinor Phillips Gail Rogers Stephen Thomas Gertrude Wade Lorna Walker Nancy Weare Ben Black Dorothy McLean Irene Myerson The time has come, the student said, • • • • • To talk of many things: • • • • • Of paints — and books — and etching ground — • • • • • Diplomas — and class rings — And why a problem doesn ' t work — And If Art, fame and fortune brings. Though strongly Individual, we, the designers, unite to thank our Instructors for workino with us toward perfection of drawing, complete harmony, and unity of de- sign. We hope we have utilized their efforts to the best of our ability, and now, gaining our diplomas, we are going to prove this. Down In the depths of A-6 where temperament and peculiarities are well known, we worked while our possessions traveled far and wide, from A to C and back again. Matt knives, white tempera, and air brush weights were at a premium, but talent and Ingenuity were abundant always. Many times Necessity Is the mother of Invention was proved, reproved, and then painted on 15 by 20 Illustration board. After four years, we have learned to transport our portfolios In and out of traffic, through doorways, and Into lockers. Now that they are well filled with ex- amples of our potentialities we will carry them to offices, studios, publishing houses and homes with the ease of entering a Kenmore bus at 3:00 P.M. — Amelia Gloss f ' • • •. � ii Eleanor Allen Paula Cahill Chester Colson Esther Connor Jacqueline Craig Robert Filbin Robert Grady Irene Jablonski Paul Licht Grace Marble Eleanor Morse Shirley Nickerson Helene Rones Elaine Smithers Vincent Veneziano Joseph Coletta Thomas Bruneau Yesterday, it seems, we were timid Juniors, stepping into that mys- terious room, B-IO, heart of the T. E. ' s activities. It did not take long to acclimate ourselves to the studies, procedures, and importance of our voca- tion ... we look forward to hard work and fun. Hard work? . . . well, that had a way of heaping up unexpectedly . . . murals, we recall, that we de- signed as Juniors for our B-IO walls: the preliminary sketching, scaled models, cut-paper creations representing our ideas on the spirit of Boston , or Conservation . Working together for benefit of all, certainly gave us a spirit of cooperation and a realization of the thoughts and ideas of others. Then there were children ' s stories, themes, puppets, lesson-plans . . . yet not one assignment went by withdut its humorous and enjoyable side. For three semesters, we spent one day a week in the public schools observing art experiences at various school levels, until we were able to help plan and teach blocks of work. Working with the children will always be to us a constant source of amazement and inspiration. We have had an opportunity in this department to practice drawing, painting, the crafts, as well as to study child psychology, so that when art and life needs arise, we will feel competent and able to participate. Besides our studies, our Junior Eastern Arts Association, offered lec- tures, slides, and many interesting discussions during the meetings we had at the lunch periods and after hours. Then, of course, the trips to New York and Philadelphia . . . short week-ends at the Conventions crammed with things to see and hear. Then to come back and give those who did not attend, a birds-eye view. Our outside activities consisted of many things, from plays and entertainments to helping to paint the North Gallery and Smoking Room. Yet our field trips were probably the most enjoyable . . . the trip by car to Andover, to view Seeing the Unseeable and the trip to the Children ' s Museum. Both trips plus many others offered relaxation, education, and inspiration for our creative selves. Field trips and extra-curricular activities, wherein fun and learning were equally divided, will always be remembered by us. As the time ticks off, and commencement day creeps quickly upon us, we feel a sense of accomplishment and a surge of ambition to be about our chosen task . . . yet we can not help feeling a little sad about leaving behind many wonderful friendships both in faculty and students, that helped to make our school life a memorable experience. Esther Connor W ' l; ucirr ART EDUCATION and the GENERAL educator ROMirT FILKIN Have you noticed them? Everyone Is talking about them, and you can ' t really help but feel the difference — fourteen in number the fashion depart- ment is In full swing and flourish- ing gaily — We design, we drape, we sew, we rip — ah yes, even a harsh thought Is shed before our eyes sparkle and a new creation is brought forth from a mangle of pins, patterns and cloth. Not satisfied with the three dimensional and Yes, I Made It”, (a long sigh herewith), we also are treading lightly but firm- ly Into the Illustration end; Vogue, Harper ' s and Women ' s Wear are Sworn Creed. Watch us, won ' t you? some chose fashion we thought, we : dreamed W Mind over matter Spirit over body What do they know Who prattle and preach In dawning great speech Of goodness or evil Of sin and despair By what right do they call Who never would fall From their petrified hall And breathe! I walked beyond the sandy beach To where the tide ' s last green pool lies And grey robber gulls trace lacy rings Above the mist-pale tongue of beach That laps the high, cool Spring skies. I listen then as sharp waves preach Of far bright seas, and softly sighs. And hushes as some marsh bird sings In solitude, of peace. we thought. we dreamed My First Love My first love came, A singing bird; Wild and sweet and strange, And nestled close and crooned to me And wept because I could not see. My best love came, A carolling dove; Shy and tender and true. And I chained it close with fetters bright And wept because It died one night. Marion Dowling Polished by the wind-borne sand, Relic of an ancient land, Ageless as night ' s gleaming band. Eternal Sphinx. Immobile, calm but yet conveying Thoughts beyond this pen ' s portraying Lips that shame my foolish braying Ego shrinks. Unattainable at first, ' Til her lips their bonds had burst That now quench consuming thirst, My soul drinks. She A sharp black shadow followed The lilting swing Of her skirt on the dusty road. The moon Threw a livid gash Across the sky Where nebulous floating clouds Swam in the dusky void. A flick Of her swinging skirt Pushed tomorrow further away. Her heart was as lonely as that empty Country road, And the stonewall made for two, Where she sat moon-bathing And remembered the oneness that was she Doubtful still of love, half-guessed But not on my own of bone as yet, I wavered: Till cooling warmth of sky-bred salt gales Dissolved complacency In calm — Wiping clear the fogginess Of Intralned lenses. And he met The startled blinking of eyes not bred for cleaner sight With untIred gentleness. I marvel now at calm audacity. Meditative power, Simple-seeming. Janet Doub li 0[q1 © ©0 Llil TT the red chair the red ch Vi is Five and Jeanne-Luce+te is saying to him; Cum je cum — What do you come by? I come by the letter ' S ' . S is for Swanboats and Steeple- jack and Shiny Sugar Apples which are Bon Bon Walk , says Jeanne Lucette. Bon Bon Walk is Most Splendid of all. Here we go down by Creepy Place which is a Dark Alley full of the Large Curly Dog Bartholomew. Here we come to the Church-of-the-Angels — Archangels — Seraphum — Cherubim — Dominations — Principalities — and — Powers — Sinners Welcome — the Coal Situation — and the Broken Home — Dr. Twistleforth — We are waving to the Steeplejack Who is a Brown Honeybee high, high. We should love to hang up there and Make Faces at Bartholomew. We hop-a-block Up to the Window — Our Red Chair is Gone! We go inside: Look! , cries Jeanne Lucette, It is a Clock Most Tall with a Handle only when you wind the Handle a Tune comes Like Slowly Rain Drops — A Lovely Lady dips Up and Down and Funny Little men turn their Heads from Side to Side. Everyone is Doing Something — I want the Red Chair. It ' s Mine! I make the Negotiations. says Jeanne Lucette. It ' s Mine! The Red Chair! Come, We find the Shiny Sugar Apple! coaxes Jeanne Lucette. We find the Apple. It is not sweet and No Rainbows are On It. Give it Back! The Mos ' Un ' appy People Want It, sighs Jeanne Lucette. The Mos ' , Un ' appy People live in the Shaggy Brown House with Children Who Giggle at Us. They eat Crusts and Poor Old Mice. says Jeanne Lucette. I should like to Eat a Mouse. Here we come to High Hill and Lavendar Panes and Lion Gate which we love. We Give the Lion a Bite of Our Sugar Apple. We run Zoup!! through See Between Fence and get on the Swanboat next to a Lady with High White Spats and a Plaid Skirt and Umbrella. Have a Bite I say. Jeanne Lucette, she goes Sh-h-h. The Lady is Malevolent and Evidently Has Not the Hunger. says Jeanne Lucette. We paddle our Hands thru Moon-colored Water and pat good-by to the Swan Who is White and Proud and Like Jeanne Lucette. I wonder Where My Red Chair Went? And There were Hundreds and Hundreds of Butter- sparrows and Brown Flies Who Kept Watch Over the Snow White. Jeanne Lucette is telling: One With Wings of Shell- ' O „ est-Pink and One with Wings of Water-blue. — And Lemon — Sky-Purple , (I help) ' And the Snow White She lay Under the Glass Beneath the Sky as if She Lay at the Bottom of a Deep Green Sea Looking Up at the Top of the Water. — And Who Do You Suppose Should Come Through the Wood But the Hand- somest Prince. — And Who Should He Kiss? And We are Going Up the Steps and Through the Door and Up the Stairs and Into the Nursery and, and — And There Is Our Red Chair!! Gertrude Wade O O CQO OOP o QQ g qQvj r ■3, Swa QCoku5I O%lU tiy - ' PRINTS AND PRINTMAKING We d.p. ' s have been the objects of much curiosity around M.S.A. The mysterious things we do, and our singularly disheveled appearance, cause members of other departments to timorously creep around our rooms, no doubt in search of the truth as to what goes on in the nether regions. We turn out paintings and prints, — the paintings usually understandable . . . the prints more confusing! How does o ne make many reproductions from a single original drawing? All that is required is a zinc plate, ink, paper, the etching press, and a hand to guide the etching needle. To do a hard ground etching, the metal plate is heated, covered with the wax ground by means of a roller, then smoked with a candle. After the plate cools and the ground hardens, the design is drawn through the coating of ground with an etching tool, or other fine pointed instrument, exposing the plate which is then immersed in a weak solution of nitric acid. The ground protects the plate where no etch is desired, allowing the acid to bite into the plate in the lines made by the etching tool. The principle of making the etching print is based on forcing the ink into the intaglio lines and wiping it off the high, unbitten sur- faces. Under pressure the ink is pulled out of the lines onto dampened paper, thus making the print. Differ- ent degrees of light and shade are produced by etch- ing some parts more than others, and by varying the depth of the bitten line. After the lines have been cor- rectly bitten, the ground is washed off the plate with turps, and dried ready for inking. The ink is rubbed thoroughly into the lines with bare fingers, and the ex- cess wiped off with hand or cloth, depending on the result desired. The inked plate is laid face up on the press, damp paper placed over it, then a blotter, the blanket or top, and the press rolls. When you have finished gloating over the print, be sure to press it carefully between blotters, otherwise it will wrinkle and be spoiled. Dry point consists in cutting the design directly in to the plate with a strong, sharp tool — the deeper the line, the darker it will be when printed. A ridge of metal, called a burr, is thrown up beside each line. The result is a richness characteristic of a dry point print. Lithography Is a newer technique than etching, with several highly specialized branches, such as color- and photo-lithography, all requiring slightly different meth- ods, but based on the same principle. We were much confused when Mr. Philbrick first tried to explain this mystic process to us, but with his help, and patient guidance, we were at last initiated. Soon, to our amazement, we were actually printing our own litho- graphs. We were told resignedly, This is a messy process, you just have to clean up after yourselves. For our work, the stone used is a fine grained lime- stone, usually cut about three inches thick, other di- mensions varying — except weight, that ' s always much too heavy! Lithography is based on the principle that water and grease will not mix, and the preparation of the stone consists in so treating the surface that the portion containing the drawing will retain ink, while the remaining portion will not. The surface is ground to a grain resembling that of fine drawing paper. This is done by grinding two stones together with carborun- dum and water, the weight of the stones being suf- ficient to wear them down to the required smoothness. After the stone is thus prepared-, the drawing is washed with a solution of gum arabic and nitric acid to keep the grease from spreading and to render the other por- tions of the stone more porous and capable of absorb- ing water. The coating of gum and acid dry, the stone is washed with water, then with turps which removes all traces of the drawing except the grease from the crayon which has penetrated the stone, and will hold the ink. The turps is washed off with water and the stone is ready for the pulling of the first proofs. When printing, the stone is kept wet with a sponge. The water does not adhere to the greased portion consti- tuting the drawing (no one knows why) so that part of the stone remains dry. A large roller is used to apply the ink. The stone is placed, drawing side up on the bed of the lithograph press, the damp paper to be rinted is laid on top, then a blotter, a sheet of news- lock, then a flat, soft metal plate. The press scraper rests on the metal plate, which is greased so that the scraper slides easily over it, yet exerting enough pres- sure to force the ink from tne stone onto the paper. An edition of thirty or forty fine prints is thus pos- sible — each sublety (and I might add, each weakness) of the original is faithfully reproduced. Muriel Webber This gallery contains a series of reproductions im- mersed in cool, smooth light. A single wheaten plane of wall tones the chimerae of abstractions to the eye. And all are portraits: In the axis of this cyclorama Is a display case. Here rests a diminutive box cleanly four square of blithe beribbonning. We are Invited to open it. Herein is the ring and the ring Is awareness. There is no finger it cannot fit. — You and I know It belongs to Dean Murray. we learned from The only perfectly square composition Is one con- taining a perfect ellipse. It Is something quite difficult to do and it Is done well. It is an abstrac- tion of mathematics, the decorative In function, — Mr. Cain in colored chalks. Next we approach an enlarged negative of the relationship of parts to the whole representing cool, coordination of crafts, the warp and woof, well woven composition. In the right hand corner the symbolic mop. Yes, that ' s a fairly good print. — Mr. Arends. The picture to your left is tipped intentionally, expressing the constant protraction of this indi- vidual obliged to view young constructions from top, side, front elevations, to read blueprint di- mensions facing Four Winds. Ranging tacitly from concise evaluations to a whetting wit, — Mr. Dunn in white oak. A mural of Boston signboards could have been executed by only one man — the one who knows them all. He is a connoisseur of that special high- light on a backing truck and rush-hour pavements after rain, — Mr. Demetropoulos of course in watercolors mixed with fountain water from the Public Gardens. We have here an indispensable direct mail cata- logue, selling advertising, and answer to ques- tions concerning some, a resignation to quality draftsmanship, a downright charm, — Mr. Thompson in two colors and Ben Day. Our next Impression is of an Impressionist. The imbrication of stroke on stroke suggests a motion- ful mosaic, the mother and child live in a flower- ful of blues, green, reds, yellows, tale-colors, the capture of a smile and a way, — Mr. Phllbrick in these oils. Here we have a pap-tage of forthright tube colors. These changeful facial expressions are matched only by the countless Reader ' s Digests he must have contributed to paper drives, — Mr. Jones in newsprint with the page-top turned for reference. Concerning the lone figure perched at the zenith of this composition, any one of you should have discerned that turret tenant, the Lady Farthest from the nearest exit in case of atomic repercus- sion. Overlapping, encyclopedlae. Art annuals and file cases lead to terra firma, — Mrs. Whittet, with a parachute of bandage gauze. Next on observation are oceanic formations, a Henry Moore, a watercolor. Also excerpts from the designer ' s roster on Sane Diving and that place near Gloucester where it can be done. For further information. — phone Mr. Allen. Approximately three feet from the floor by an eighteen inch metal-edged ruler floats a duodeco- hedron of substantial yet versatile celluloid; it is suspended either by magic or mental telepathy, — the twelve sides of Mr. Hoadley. Next, through a vast graph of humeri, clavicles and superior anterior iliac spines weaves a dole- some lock done in the manner of a Master. This lucubration psychologically relates a repressed longing for new background drapes, richer paintings, — Mr. Gavin in oils and that palette knife. A pair of Byzantine eyes reflect a distant myriad of Still Life jars. There is a suggestion of expres- sive hands, a wistfulness for the unmuddy, a par- tiality to the masonite, sponge and tape, — Mr. Corsini in water-greys, greens, red-browns. A second sense of third dimension encounters us in a head with a westerly way of it. It is actively sure, texturally delightful to tool-roughened fin- gers, and signed with, — the inimitable thumb of Mr. Porter in his own mediums. A table is specially constructed in the mold of an exclamation point and the miniature model of a room is placed thereon: Decor futur, muralled completely by the completely young, and a wee sma ' bookcase containing all the Sally Tannahills, — Executed by Miss Nye and her T. E. Dept. Indisputedly the Chef d ' oeuvre of the display case we say is a hat and we like it: Swatches of stone marten, clumps of smilax and lilacs of topaz and Truman Purple in all the superlatives, — Belonging of course to Miss McManus. This abstraction is facile indeed: The symbols 0° Centigrade Ice is unfair to Psychologists ' Ankles; experiment blanks” Children Have Right to Live. (Here we have an exponent.) That sketch of a hippopotamus? If you haven ' t heard of Rosie — just ask Miss Franklin. The circulations of Vogue and Harper ' s Bazaar are being yeasted and aha we know who is doing the yeasting: Yea one y-clad in shocking blue and beige with a pulsatory partiality to the new longer skirt, — The Paris influence translated by Mrs. Quinn. Here we have a dressmaker ' s dummy draped dis- tinguee in midnight green with a repeat motif of thimbles and the words Rip out the stitches. Attached we note several papers of pins and a shot of — Mrs. Sylvester at the latest fashion show. The prepossession of the first lies in its contrast of a silicate of jade, its long-lined setting sug- gesting the wearer ' s hand of tapering fingerful angles, with the background wash of greyed saf- frons and oranges, implying a swift conchoid spiral, a prancing pony mane. — Miss Lennen in a number of techniques. The second contains as symbols a copy of Seven- teen and a Victorian never-never penholder molded for practicability and an Estabrook Oval Point. We could have done without that extra dash of vermilion to identify, — Mr. Kupferman in water-color pencils and High-grade inks. The next comprises a texture study! A seven foot vertical area of flecked herringbone area cut in stairs denoting ascent between library and classroom with a slight divergence in weave re- counting passage to office through etching room, — Mr. O ' Donnell in pepper and salt and a dash of red ink. Off by itself, we see an abstract rendered after the Old Masters, — mellowed, muted tones combine with an exuberant, youthful composition of eager young faces; a motley crowd played against a background score of Schubert and Dvorak, — and a little left of center, — — Miss Kendrick at the piano This bulletin-board-collage, of layout, fresh and voluble, includes a Wednesday Herald book re- view page, a view of instructor-student discus- sion at street floor Balustrade , frost-fare Mend- ing Wall and right corner candid of that amic- able automobile driven by — Miss Sheehan. On a sunsewn window-graph of century cubes we trace a Lurcat pattern of leaf and leaf- pendant in the Egyptian chrome of lapis and red carmelion: A primitive ' s candor with a prognastic touch, a symbol, — Miss Munsterberg in teacup porcelain and tapes try-purl. Step away from In front of that rendering of mosaic jewelry, we ' d like to look at it. Hm crisp and pellucid, accent on technique, and superimposed, certain snips from the Times stress- ing proportion, — Mrs. Green in the wash that counts on Strath- more medium two-ply. ■WTi Guji )UcU- UM4i( ( v K-cyk j ci 7 g; - c- Q,. 6 a lUuiAbt rb ' ASsCaWsX V )Z_ QMrtMVKjl5PiMtifl-, 1 e££ .7 t; ic S nic., ( O ' X aCxcCT 7 ' - CA ' - Dean to Keep us busy Student Activities Let us not make a jeremiad for the year, it is done — nor tor these tritenesses: the monsoon of locker-seeking, and final subsidence; the hopeful dash to the habitat of Art School Associates Inc., so often ending in despair for late-comers; the re- newal of effort to observe a bell schedule. The Freshman Social, the coming to know, was September ' s, and classes began again, equipped with vigor of approach to the still life, and that First Love of unadulterated green and purple tem- pera. The Veterans supplied competition for all. Then another dance: Hallowe ' en had come and was gone. A short Novembrance and voila — Season ' s Greetings! Slipped patly between the new ten cent Iceberg and the unpredictable ap- pearance of the Hershey Bar, came the Christmas Spread. Those verse-and-trophy compounds for Faculty charmed even the most nitric-aciduous in our midst, as did that Gulliverian stage-setting, a white Rococo frame and blue light: a tangerine hussy, her lover, and a timbering dandy in zoot- suiting; a ballet fulchrum feathered with Degas jeune filles; an Alice Blue Gown Siva-ess of many arms; the timeless beauty of the Birth supple- mented with Glee Club carols. Then we were at the Christmas Formal, one of many coupled circle- patterns wheeling about a floor brightly accented. January brought a new Welcome! sign on the door of B-9, but inside, the same old and warm welcome waited for all of us on Wednesday af- ternoons at T-time with E.M. Exhibitions, more dances, meetings in assemby hall, formal and in- formal; and campaigns calling on our ' civic pride ' in connection with two rooms which we shall leave unnamed — all these that seemed so in the present are now in the past. Open House was followed by class dances, our annual exhibition and our annual escape to the ' Great Out of Doors ' . Finally, as a ribbon might be tied about a package, and ever afterward remind one of the present; so, the Year- book will remind us of the past. Let us not make a jeremiad for the year, it is done — as are the tritenesses we have so loved: the monsoon of locker-seeking, the hopeful dash to the habitat of Art School Associates Inc., the effort to observe a bell schedule. A year book cannot be edited by one person alone, or by two or three. As it is the anthology, in paint and type, of a complete student body, rather than of a single personality, so it must be the culmination of that student body ' s coopera- tion, energy, and eagerness to see caught and held as a tangible memory, its ideals, struggles, enthusiasms, and dejections. For a year book, in itself, is not of much importance. Its great value lies in its ability to open, with each turning page, some closed door in our memory, to light for us each time, some darkened pathway where our ambitions will always be as green and youthful, as yet untar- nished by the blunt practicality of sheer existence, as they now are, at the first opening and closing of this book. — therefore — we wish to thank A All those members of the faculty and student body, each of whom has, in some way, contributed toward the completion of this year book. We especially wish to ex- tend our deepest gratitude to that smaller group of students and faculty who gave their time and energy so willingly in order to prepare and edit the actual work upon these pages — — To our Art Editor, Janet Doub, our Literary Editor, Gertrude Wade, our Pro- duction Manager, Lydia Breed, and our staff, Eleanor Davis, Lois Marks, Elinor Phil- lips, Mary Malandrino, Elaine Biganess, and Henrietta Lockwood. To Mr. Arends who gave so generously of his time in snapping, developing, and print- ing our candid shots. — And a very fervent thank you to Mr. Kupferman, Mr. O ' Donnell, and Mr. Thomp- son, our Art, Literary and Production ad- visors, who, together, formed the ever- present helping hand, alternately guiding, pushing, and pulling us through the endless maze of enthusiastic ideas, and depressing practicalities in which we were so continu- ally entangled. Alice Coolidge — Editor amx£ AifbnithM • Drafting MotcriaU • Zip -ton« - Craftint - Contok Shading Shoot • Sign Writor’ Supplioi . 35 HIGH-STREET • BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS PHONE ERTY 2607 M.K, FOCUS YOUR SIGHTS ON ART BOOKS mdbiKjimp FASHION ILLUSTRATION . PAINTING TECHNIQUES COMMERCIAL ARTS J 7 2 ADVERTISING ART FINE ARTS ANATOMy DESIGN BOSTON BOOKMD Mr SHOP ' S. ewhuiyStKet BOSTON SC. V ' )lHOGPW liy OOK No cost Sa ' f essco|tJg fe adva ta fo rep o%Oj ' i ordMi yl£ h 0 O{.lili 328 EAST 23 RD. STREET NEW YORK NEW YORK ' ■t ' HIR ORUSH RND SILK SCREEN « MRTniRLS • RRDON • MI8 NMmi«mM mreiuE B. 6. artists supplies R.H. STUfmT ART GALLERY k CERNAT - IAamA prints 99 Bickford St., Jamaica Plain jr paintings reproductions picture framing 455 STUART ST., BOSTON T. F. « c TALENS AND SON - 650 FfiEtWCHUYSEH AVENUE NEWARK. NEW JERSEY fe «l ' ;i?t - - ! ®,.- --: !■ .S ' iv ; ■ ■ . To V. • ■; ' ify: Vvy . ' ' , ' v st-- -A P?W - ‘ ' i’li K •-■rtif ' - ' ' ' ■ ' • ' ■ ' . LWT? c . 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