Rhode Island School of Design - Portfolio Yearbook (Providence, RI)

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Sond NTR ALVMNI ASSO The Rhode Island School of Design Alumni Association. It is a long name truly, but fortunately it is only the last two words of it that seem to need a clear statement of their meaning. Let us go back to the Latin source of the word “Alumni,” meaning literally, “the foster children,” and then to the other word, “Association,” which means “fellowship,” or the condition of having combined for a common purpose.” Putting the two to- gether we find ourselves to be, “a fellowship of foster children, with a com- mon Mother, having combined together for a common purpose,” and since it is the part of a good child to ever cherish that tender friend, “the Mother,” who has brought it to the point of manifesting independent action, our first purpose is not far to seck, is it? Let us read a clause from the constitution of this body, stating its purpose and objects. Article 2. “The objects of this Association shall be to awaken a wider and more intelligent interest in the subjects taught by the school and in the school itself, and to promote a spirit of co-operation among past and present members of the school in matters pertaining to the welfare of the Rhode Island School of Design.” It seems to me that the order should be slightly changed and that loyalty and devotion to the “Mother” should come first, and next, should come the obligation, to be equally borne by every one of the “foster chil- dren,” of awakening a wide and intelligent interest in the subjects taught by the “Mother” and to promote a reality of “fellowship,” or “combination” amongst all the “foster children,” past, present and future, which shall con- stantly busy itself with the welfare of the “Mother.” ‘The first thing the “fos- ter child” can do for its parent is to rejoice her heart by giving her just cause

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“I'm surprised that such a cause should condescend to such mundane meth- ods,” the Cynic remarked. “Well, they wouldn’t be necessary, save that the human animal is easily led to forget his divinity and be content with lower things. And he dislikes to use his brain—and there is as much brain work in a satisfactory piece of de- stgn as there is in a problem in geometry, though, as it is akin to the infinite rather than to the finite, it can’t be reduced to such finitely expressed rules.” “But surely,” exclaimed Common Sense, “it isn’t all so up in the air “Ditigble balloon—mostly gas,” chuckled the Cynic. The Artist shook his head. “Far from it,” he said. “It’s based on logic and reason and cemented with solid technique. Though the discussions of the ‘why’ of some things may lead into rather un-get-at-able regions, they’re mostly governed by clearly reasoned laws founded on structural fitness and proper adaptation to use, and the necessity of good technique is never for a moment lost sight of. A building that expresses its structure and function, a piece of design adapted to the object it adorns, a carpet—a piece of furniture—a machine—the school that sees that each one of these objects is designed in ac- cordance with the best standards—both technical and theoretical—is doing an immense work; and in spite of the Cynic’s derby and that scarf pin which Common Sense sports, I believe that some day America will be, by means of such schools, the most artistic nation the world has ever seen.” The Cynic grunted. “Personalities and prophecies are both in bad taste,” he said, Common Sense smiled indulgently. “If I were sure that the work in such a School were founded on logic and reason, I’d be willing to overlook the Ar- tist’s rudeness and say—the more of them the better.” Again the Cynic grunted. “Well,” he said, “I suppose they can’t do much harm.” 9?

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for pride in its personal progress and accomplishment; the second is, to so pre- sent that accomplishment before the eyes of the world as to compel its interest and commendation; and the third is for each one to feel so keenly his and her responsibility in caring for the “Mother” that her welfare shall be assured, even at the cost of time and effort, and perhaps the money of these “foster children.” This same constitution provides that membership in this harmonious family may be attained after a year’s connection with the “Mother.” The term “alumnus” or “alumna” has come, by long usage, to mean, a child who has stepped out from under the care and protection of the Mother wings; but there is no such limitation in the original meaning of he word. It is a “foster child” from the date of its entrance into this “Mother’s” care and instruction till its life ends! In other words, we enter upon a life membership in this family at the start. Therefore, it is plain to be seen that the act of joining the Alumni Association is only a public confession of our intention to shoulder the responsibility which has already become our heritage as “foster children of our splendid “Mother.” Which, then, shall we be? Unappreciative, un- grateful children, caring nothing for the hand that has led us thoughtfully, wisely, and lovingly forward to an interesting, estimable, and, possibly, a very honorable life work? Or shall we acknowledge our indebtedness and bend our hearts and wills toward continuing the welfare and prosperity of our “fos- ter Mother,” the Rhode Island School of Design?” One word more is needed to fittingly end this explanation. Let us remember that the limit of what we may accomplish in our work is measured chiefly by what we ourselves are, and among the many and beautiful arts we’ve been taught to practice, let us not forget that most precious and important one of all,—the art of living beau- tifully. . An Alumna.