Spring Fever Fades to Summer

Memorial Day, as you know, is the unofficial start to summer. But, we still have a few more weeks of Spring. So, stop by the Archives and take a look at our celebration of spring, three student displays focusing on three of our favorite aspects of the season. You've already heard about Fiesta and Graduation. Next up is Kate's ode to the season...

I like doing these displays because they’re a means of showcasing some of the interesting materials we have in Archives. In assembling my collection, I chose to focus on the presence of spring on art and literature so that I could display as many types of material as possible. Our Dicke art collection provided a lot of classic paintings to choose from; the impressionist art was especially bright and cheerful.

Don’t you just wish you were outside?

Claude Monet, Essai de figure en plein air: femme a l’ombrelle tournée vers la gauche (Study of Figure Outdoors: Woman With Parasol Turned to the Left), taken from Paintings in the Musée d’Orsay

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And what would springtime be without flowers? Special Collections holds a surprising number of botanical photography books, and I found some surprisingly exciting photos of vibrant spring flowers.

   Color explosion Christopher Baker, Keizerskroon from Tulipia: A Photographer’s Botanical

Finally, I went to look for some literature. This is dangerous territory for me because I tend to get lost in the first editions of novels or children's books, but I managed without irritating Amy too much. Most of the spring-related materials were books of poetry, and the selection is eclectic. Horizontal Yellow is a collection of poems by Spud Johnson, evoking the spirit of the Near Southwest, and our copy is one of 400 printed as Writer’s Editions and signed by the poet. A lovely copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman is also on display as well as a strange and fascinating collection of irregular haikus, unbound and printed on long strips of paper. This funny little collection is entitled High Kukus and was written by James Broughton, who intended the work as an experiment, reconciling humanity with nature.

I thought these haikus were so unique that I decided to display them despite the fact that only a few of them relate to spring. Many of them focus on mundane items like kitchen utensils and old trucks.

The hardest part about putting together this display was the excitement I experienced in even thinking about being outside and the end of the year and all of the other lovely things that come along with springtime. Looking at the art and setting up the display case made the close of the semester seem even further away. But spring has sprung, and before we know it, it will be the heat of summer. So enjoy spring fever before it’s over!

Kate Cuellar '15

Love is in the Air... of the Archives!

 

In the spirit of Valentine's Day, Special Collections & Archives has created a new exhibit entitled "Love in the Archives"--a tripartite collection of romantic materials culled from the collection by Angel, Kate, and me (with Amy's guidance, of course!).

I quickly claimed any love letters we might have, since I find the correspondence between lovers fascinating. Love letters offer a unique glimpse into a person's character and into their inner emotions, thus showing a different side of a person than the public may normally see. I composed a display called "Enveloping Desire" that contains materials ranging from war letters written to sweethearts to poetry written to historical women. Unfortunately, the letters in our collection seem to have a depressing theme of unrequited love: from Sam Houston's letters to a young lady who rejected him for one of his best friends to the poetic passion of a 12th century nun for the general that left her alone for the rest of her life, hardly any of Special Collections' romance seems to end happily.





Thankfully, Kate chose a happier topic, concentrating on the various romantic productions that Trinity's Theatre department has staged throughout the years. Kate was inspired to create her display by the fact that these plays, whether modern or Shakespearean, proclaim the same transcendent power of love; a topic both contemporary and ancient audiences can agree on. She focused on Trinity's production of Romeo and Juliet in 1978, Candida in 1989, The Importance of Being Earnest in 1977, and A Midsummer Night's Dream in 1978.

Finally, Angel combed through the Dicke Smith collection for her display, "Mastering the Art of Love," which exhibits romantic instances of visual art found in the collection. Each of the books that Angel used in this display showcase a different type and era of artistic expression. Examples range from a collection of glamour shots of Hollywood stars to the Postsecret book (which is made up of selections from the Postsecret blog of anonymous postcard confessions) to selections from Renoir's achingly beautiful portraiture.








Make sure to stop by while the exhibit is up and enjoy these choice specimens from Special Collections & Archives! As always, questions and comments are appreciated.

--Faith Bradham, '13 

Zero Mass

As Amy and I were shelving recently donated art books, we were intrigued by a Styrofoam box, covered in a cardboard sleeve, sitting casually between two other volumes. The mysterious packaging convinced us both that we should open it right away. Nested inside the Styrofoam package, were two harmless, unembellished items: a dark metallic book and a ball of fired clay a little smaller than my fist.

              
After the anticlimactic reveal, I removed the book from its package. The cover was made of metal, and the edges seemed to have been made intentionally sharp. The words emblazoned on the title page read “Zero Mass: The Art of Eric Orr” and beneath that was a signature “Tim, Thank you, Eric.” A quote on the next page, the lone image of a coffee stain on the one after that. Page 25 was blank and torn in half. The following section contained a segmented short story, the next, a series of quotes and the next, artworks. On my way through the book, I encountered the very center page, a blank expanse of soft red paper. Then followed a chapter entitled “Nexus,” containing a series of mathematical equations, and a section of letters to the artist.

              
At the end of the book there was a colophon with copyright information and the like. I did find two rather surprising facts there, however. The first was that what I thought was a coffee ring at the beginning of the book was not a coffee ring at all, but a rubber stamp of the artist’s blood. I’ll admit, I went back to examine it again more closely. The second fact was even more startling. The center page of soft red paper, the colophon told me, was handmade using kozo fibers and powdered mummy skull, and I’ll admit, I went back and touched it again.

              
I wasn’t sure exactly what Zero Mass was supposed to be. It contained everything and the kitchen sink, but what I really wished for was an instruction manual. Perhaps I don’t possess the sensibility necessary to appreciate Orr’s art, but I will always appreciate the ability to say to someone, “Come look at this book. Feel this red paper. Isn’t it soft?” 

--Kate Cuellar '15, Special Collections and Archives Student Assitant