pp^UARY 1972
Letters To Editor
the collegiate
PAGE 3
February 21,1972
Students on our
campus represent one and one-
hird of the student body, I
Lonally want to congratulate
Lm publicly for having it all
Jgether last week for Black
History Week.
I know in the beginning stages
„( planning that they had no
financial assets, but through
determination and hard work
^■ere able to acquire financial
support from organizations on
campus. These organizations
need to be thanked also.
I feel that Black History Week
had a tremendous impact upon
this campus and has left behind
3*';e very strong positive
vibrations.
Lou Stovall and Archie
Stewart wished to express their
deep appreciation for the
reception and response which
they received on campus.
Congratulations, and thanks
for such a fine week.
Peace,
Norbert W. Irvine
February, 1972
Dear Mr. Davis:
I have just finished reading
“Letters to the Editor” in the
February 18 issue of “The
Collegiate” and have seen the
way the public seemed to put
your sports article of February 4
down. I would like to encourage
you to write more of the “trash”
as some of the authors of those
letters so abruptly put it.
After your article the Bulldog
-team proceeded to take vic
toriously three of four games. I
don’t know if the output was a
“come on, guys. Let’s show’em”
type thing or what, but it does
seem strange that suddenly
after that article of yours the
fellows decided they would come
across and play some good
basketball for a while at least!
In the UNC-Wilmington game
the following Saturday night,
maybe Cliff Black just had a hot
hand or maybe he was trying to
prove something — like "’l am a
peat player, so don't just say I
‘look great against those
clowns’.” So whether he was
inspired by the article, ef
fervescing with skill, or' just
plain lucky, at any rate, he
displayed a very fine per
formance. And let’s not leave out
those clowns either. For three
of four games following your
article the Bulldog club was on
the ball.
So, Mr. Davis, allow me to
congratulate you because I
believe that maybe, just maybe,
your article created enough
animosity among the team-
players and even in the coach to
pull off the clown suits, and put
on the T-shirts, and go out on the
floor and use their talents. Good
work, Mr. Davis. Let's come up
with some more inspirational
ideas.
Sincerely.
Brenda Kaye Ford
Seriography Is Good For You
By LOU STOVALL
Print and Poster Maker
In an assessment of my
working years I would say that
the past ten years have been
most meaningful. Not so much in
a chronological ordering, but in
bursts and spurts of spontaneous
energy — much the same as I
see my work in terms of its
failings and successes.
I started as a poster maker,
that was my sub-dream. It was
almost ten years ago at Howard
University that the dialogue with
my friend Lloyd McNeill began
concerning posters. We had
differing views about the
necessity and purpose of posters
and it took four years before we
did our first together. Lloyd
designed and I lettered and
printed. Two of our later posters
“Bike”, 1968 and “Feed Kids”,
1969 are in your collection. Both
were reprinted four times by
popular demand and it was on
the strength of their success that
1 became restless for my super
ambition, my first purpose ...
simply making pictures.
I had been rewarded a grant to
establish a graphics workshop
and was in business before the
silkscreen table was built. The
title of this story is from that
time, summer 1968, written in a
personal note to me by my friend
Philip Stern “Serigraphy is good
for you.” Posters were needed
and on a community level where
TUFFY’S
Sandwich
ALL FOR
those who were informed by
them could see how they were
made. That first yesr we printed
over 51,000 single sheets of
paper.
I wa^ once asked to make a
distinction between posters and
prints. I began, “posters carry a
written meaningful message
inclined toward instruction
while prints are not obliged to
say anything at all ...” It was
very wordy and of course silly so
I concluded, “posters have
words — prints do not”. I, of
course, had not heard of Robert
Raushenberg or Robert Indiana
at the time.
What I really meant was
posters had begun to be
restricting and my whole
creative effort seemed to be
limited to designing new letter
styles that were both decorative
and legible at the same time and
always with increasingly
weighty copy ... I spent more
and more time trnaslating for
those who wished to attend
whatever it was that was being
advertised. I started to make
prints again and as I had at
Howard, made a sharp distinc
tion between my personal work
(the prints) and my commercial
work (the posters). That dual
stand caused frustration for a
good time.
I made mono-prints mostly
during the evening hours and
posters all day. The prints were
not for sale. I gave them to
friends who loved them as I did
(“Nina” and “Rosie”).
About this time I began also to
do prints for professional artists.
Paul Reed was first and it was
then that the years of poster
making paid off. Every
technique that I had ever used
while making posters was a
lesson for good print-making,
especially when considering the
range of styles of the artists that
I began to print for. I was feeling
better about posters and decided
to break the routine by doing
some posters and some prints,
my own included,
“Rosie” was my first balloon
print and it carried a kind of
hope. The second balloon was
"512” for Di and I named the
third “Hope” with the fourth
following naturally ... “Let it be,
Love.” After that I stopped
counting and made prints
whenever my schedule allowed.
Whe had become “Workshop”
and the prints and posters were
flying hot and heavy. It was
difficult to continue with posters
because the print demands and
our rising cost made us too
expensive for community groups
who still needed our services.
That marked the time for more
designers and printers, con
sequently the workshop staff
(Di, Richard, David) jointly met
the community needs.
The trees began in the sum
mer of 1970, first drawings, some
of them with poems that tell
parts of this story. The Love
Tree was my big turning point, I
was personally doing more
prints than posters, so it was
prints all day and posters at
night. I named the prints in
sequence with little poems ... “I
Love You”, “Becoming”, “All”.
“All” did not seem to have to be
printed by then (I was so free) so
I started a new series ... “A
Single Moment for Everyone”,
“In Every Tree and Wing” (my
best), “Ours Together”.
Now instead of advertising
posters, I don only decorative
posters and I write my own
messages on them hoping to add
a few kind words to the world,
“Peace.”
Duckworth
(Continued From Page 2)
Christian, is also president of
Media Press, an Illinois-based
publishing company specializing
in contemporary music; and
founder and director of the
Association of Independent
Composers and Performers, a
group of international musicians
who encourage performances of
contemporary music. His latest
article, “Musical Pedagogy and
the Fear of Creeping In
dividualism,” was included in
the January edition of The
American Music Teacher.
ICurtrllr B cinii IFnrincils
219 EAST NASH STREET
SEE LUCIELLE'S COLLECTION FOR
that SPECIAL DRESS'
liOPer Cent Disccnt With Ad Downtown Wilson
niURCHWELlX
(_ jewelers —'
• American Gem Society
Certified Gemologist
by Rick Mitz
It's not the shaggy hair nor the
bell bottoms nor the love beads
nor the tie-dyed shirts that give
the student his image. It's his
mouth.
The student mouth is a
complex creature. It can shout
at demonstrations, whimper
through "Love Story," gasp in
horror at the atrocities of war.
But none of these gives us away
as students. It's the Meaningful
Dialogue — the zig-zag big talk
and the spaced-out small talk —
that makes the student mouth —
from t(X)th to kp — the unique
organ it is.
Being a mouthy student, 1
decided to investigate ths
subject. I decided to get right to
the throat of the problem. I
asked a student what he per
ceived student language to be.
"The stud lingo? Man, that
went out with the fifties. Rap
ping isn't where it's at. man. It's
a big head trip. And you've got to
have a g(x»d head in order to
havea good mouth. Dig? Got the
scene? It's a regular high.”
Suffering from a regular low. 1
decided that perhaps the best
way to investigate student
lanuage was to observe it. I
wangled myself an invitation to
the Student Life Seminar Work
shop party and picked up a few-
mouthy tid-bits there.
I walked through a beaded
doorway and introduced myself
to a tall, skinny, pock-marked
girl. “And who are you?” I
asked.
“Who am I, you ask'’” she
asked. "I could tell you I'm
Delores Shlumple. That's true.
True, I am Delores Shlumple.
Yes. Yes. You've probably
already guessed; of the famous
Newark Shlumple family. Some
people call me Dee. But who am
I really? I am the sun, I am the
moon. I am a strange concoction
of whatever you want me to be
and what I am not and what I
would like to be. I am my famous
father's daughter and he is my
son. I am a complex of com
plexes. According to my analyst,
I am a profound combination of
Jocasta and Oedipus, searching,
searching, searching for the
right womb. “Say,” she said,
pausing. “Who did you say you
are?”
I moved on toward a kid sitting
in the yoga position con
templating his navel, which he
referred to as Felix.
“Where is it at, little belly
button? It is at where. Where
what? Where whatever, that’s
what. Give me meaning. Say
something, because I am really
into you, ho havel ‘o mine. Speak
to me Felix.” His stomach
growled and he grinned. “Right
on, Felix.”
A group of mini skirts were
standing around talking about
their home ec class. Suddenly, a
large boisterous girl — with
sensitive eyes — pushtnl her way
into the crowd. "Hey, sisters
Let's have a little group
dynamics here. K little
meaningful dialogue. My name
is Betty and my primary interest
is people. And, of course, the on
going life process. We've got to
get organized, sisters. Let's
havea little intense on-going rap
sesssion here. You're all good
heads. Now get it together"
"Um,” said a small blonde
coed. “I made a relevant blouse
the other day. With a peace sign
on the left shoulder.. "
"Hello, " I said to a sad-Kwking
girl sitting on a pillow. "Talk to
me"
“You married?”
"No.”
“You want to get?”
“Not really...”
“I knew it! Rejection once
again, Cecelia,” she cried aloud
to herself, $15,(KK) it cost .Mom
and Daddy to send me to school
— that's room and board and
tuition, book, clothes and pills.
That doesn't even include the
nose job, the hair transplant, the
dermatologist's bills and getting
my ears pierced, which is
already sending Daddy to the
poor house.” She straightened
out her St. Laurent chemisc.
"All that to send little Ciel to
college so she could find a
husband. Well — look at me,
L(H)k at me, will you? What good
id it do? Do I look engaged to
you? Ux)k at my left hand. Do
you see an engagement ring?
Elven a ring mark? As naked as
Adam — if I could only find Him.
What's wrong with me? Why
can't I get a man?”
“You mean ‘old man',” 1 in
terrupted.
"I don't like old men.”
“No no no. You've got to learn
to talk with it.”
"With what? I should learn to
talk^ $1,500 they spent on braces
and he's telling me I don't know
how to talk.”
"The student jargon. You've
got to learn to be hip — or is it
hep? Well, whatever. Why don't
you go over to that guy sitting
there with his legs crossed and
ask him how P'elix is. Ask him if
he's got an old lady. Maybe you
two can, ah, grwve together"
"Well, what the hell,” she
said, getting up. “It doesn’t cost
anything. Thanks,” she said,
and then added, “Daddy-o.”
The kid and Cecelia were
married two weeks later ine one
of those terribly Now new
weddings in Central Park.
Cecelia wore gold lame Correges
boots. Felix froze his navel off.
Ciel’s father is buying him a new
one.
“What are you doing here?” a
bespectacled, be-bearded fellow
said, grabbing my arm. “Why
are you wasting your time when
•See ri.MK Page 1
C. WOODARD CO., INC.
SCHOOL ANDOFFICE
SUPPLIES
105 North Douglas Street
tel. 237-6176
RAINES and COX
A PORTRAIT-- THE GIFT ONLY
YOU CAN GIVE
315' 2 East Nash Street Phone 237-3935