Newark School of Fine and Industrial Art - Fawcett Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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SONGS SHADOWS FALI 1 Night of 1 REMEMBER í R GRADUATION With downcast eyes—we tread the halls, We take our smocks home every night, With voices pitched quite low, Our bags are taken, too, With shaking hands we touch the walls, We don't throw turps to left and right, We fear to graduate. We think we graduate. We listen to each heeding word, And we may say we're glad to part From teachers grown so dear, With our dear We take advice 'bout bee and bird, But We hopé to graduate. Fawcett School gratitude's in every heart, For we must graduate.

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CLASS РКОРНЕСУ On the second floor we found Pauline Sweeney giving advice to the lovelorn in her black and violet Persian room. She told me that Dorothy Gann had long since gone to Africa as a missionary. I remembered then that this must have been her chosen profession—for her father was a minister. At the other end of the floor Elsie Kull was hard at work teaching her class the rudiments of her famous cadenza laugh, which brought her so much fame on Loew's State Circuit. [n the housekeeping department, I found Jean Morris and Peg Kisling exponents of the Gold Dust Twins Cleaning Powder, and we also found Sally Lord in the store demonstrating her side-center back crawl with which she recently won the Trans-Atlantic race. We were a little late after leaving the store building but we stopped for one inute more to pick up a newspaper which told us all about the President of the United States, Lyman Conger— who was also President of the World Court and of the League of Nations. The paper stated that the president was now busily engaged in his trying duty of painting the portraits of all the members in his cabinet. [n the social column we found that Arpad Stanek, that most successful Spanish—Czecko Slavakian German— French painter and his wife, Jean Lauer, the lady who talks most in the whole world, returned from their cruise on the Mediterranean. We dropped the paper and hurried on—but we couldn't help noting a Wrig- ley's Chewing Gum Stand— where Mary Ryan was demonstrating the latest styles of chewing gum. A little later, we noticed a sign painter putting up a poster about “Dives Cure for Hives. It was Gertrude Flory. Another student had reached her goal. A few minutes later, we arrived at a beautiful white building and I was ushered into the Assembly Hall of the Fawcett School. We were told that the meet- ing of the Supreme Jury of the Student Council was called to determine whether fire drills should be held three or four times a week. Before the meeting started, we were entertained by Cleo Garis of the famous Vincent Lopez troupe, who pre- sented all the latest Black Bottom and Charleston dances in tantalizing fashion. As the president began to speak, I must have fallen asleep for, when I awakened, 1 found myself in the middle of Broad and Market Streets lying on top of my broken paint brush. I picked myself up, ran to my easel and, while walking to school, 1 congratulated myself heartily on the fact that all this had been but an absurd dream and I was glad to think how very different the reality would be. D. e

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COMPOSITION DRAW, DRAW, DRAW ` The embryo artist little realizes how very valuable is the study of saucepans, milk bottlés and soup strainers in his first years of struggle for the mastery of art; for these seemingly ridiculous objects teach him nevertheless to judge better pro- portion of line and mass and through continual changing and redrawing of these objects a fine structure is founded which will carry the artist through his whole сагеег. d “The student is horrified by the drawing of casts— but later ori he begins to smile with self-satisfaction on realization that his hieroglyphics are turning into definite reproductions of the casts. He sees Wagner, Adam, Dante, all coming out of the chaos of charcoal smudges on his paper. He sees that light and shade, oan be so manipulated as to become part of the composition at the sáme time, emphasizing the realistic qualities of the drawing. | In later years the artist comes to look back on these student days of training as the best ones of his life, for with the slogan of “Draw, draw, draw” alveays sounding in his ear, he has found the real secret of success.