ire
Two
THE SALE MITE
November 4
Student Vmvs Art Exhibit
^ Sees Realism, Abstraction
by Sybel Haskins, Winkie Harris
The church bell tolled the hour—five a.m.
In the distance a cock crowed and the alarm
clanged frantically. Activitus groaned and
buried her h^ad under the pillow. "J'lirous’ii
her subconscious kept running the thought,
“Greek test, Greek test—” She slowly roused
herself and slapped off the alarm.
A gentle snore came from the other side of
the room. Activitus looked with envy at her
roommate.
She got out of bed, carried one load of books
downstairs to the smoke house, then came back
up for her three notebooks. On her way out
she remembered to set the alarm clock for
eleven so that her roommate would wake up
in time to get a cup of coffee before her first
class.
The 8 :30 class bell roused Activitus from her
deep thoughts concerning the orgins of classi
cal Greek antiquity. She slipped a coat on
over her pa.iamas and dashed to her test. She
arrived at third floor Main Hall panting, but
relieved to see that there were only 18 dis
cussion questions instead of the usual 21.
At 9:25, Acti thanked her stars that one
six-v/eeks test was over, but by 10 :20, on hear
ing that there were no jobs to be had- in the
teaching field except for those taking primary
education, she wondered if she had chosen the
wrong major.
The next two hours were a blot to Acti. By
12:10 frantic note-taking was forgotten with
the realization that it was time to go to hockey.
After a grueling hour, during which she was
fortunate enough to be hit in the head only
twice, Acti dragged herself up the gym steps.
Through bloodshot eyes, she dimly saw her
roommate and six other fellow students in
dustriously playing “ring around the rosies”.
She. could hear their remarks . . .
“Honestly, this game tires me much more
than Hrop-the-Handkerehief.”
“I hope it rains tomorrow and we can play
thimble, thimble, who’s got the thimble.”
Acti snorted, and wondered whether an
hour’s sleep or a teaspoon of spinach would
be more valuable in helping her survive three
hours of analytical chemistry lab. Spinach
won out.
.Five cut-up cats and three frogs later, 5 :00
finally sounded. Through the fog of formalde
hyde, Acti reached for her coat and. stumbled
to the library. She wished she had read more
than two pages of the 50,000 pages in “the life
of an innocent young 18th century lady.” But
the report had to be in by twelve that night.
She finally found a gloomy corner of the
reserve room vacant and patiently began to
wade through the trials of thg 18th century
young lady. The voice of her roommate sud-
d,enl.y became audible.
“Honestly, I wish the pictures in this kiddies
lit. book were a little clearer. I can’t tell
whether this is a lion or a tiger.”
A chorus of plaintive voices added,
“Well, I can’t figure out whether Little Black
Sambo ate 34 or 43 pancakes.”
“You should worry! I’ve only read 12 out
of the 25 books we’ve got to read and some
of them are 15 pages long.”
' Then a bright voice added, “Oh, come on.
We’ve got time to play a couple of rubbers of
bridge before supper. We can read the story
of the Three Little Pigs before class tomorrow.”
“0. K. I can get Acti to set the alarm for
10:30 in the morning. I’m getting worried
about that child. She studies every single
day. She’s going to get warped if she keeps
that up.”
A(jti wearily picked up her magnifying glass.
and continued reading until supper. At the
table, the main topic of conversation was:
“My marionette’s going to be little Ked Kid-
ing Hood.”
Isn’t that a precious idea!! Mine isn’t half
that cute, and I’m having more trouble get
ting that wool hair to curl.”
“Don’t you think an apron would be all right
with mine, that is if I can get enough
material?”
Acti wondered whether the Philosophies of
Erasmus and Moliere coincided with Machia-
velli’s ideas on the back to nature movement.
Perhaps the Ptolemaic theory would help in
figuring it out.
By two o’clock that night, Ptolemy was for-
(Continued on page three)
Joseph E. Smith
Lovers of beauty as expressed
through the medium of the fine arts
are having a field day in the ex
hibit of Messrs. Brandt and Barker
which is currently being held at the
Arts and Crafts Workshop , on
North Main Street. Those who
have seen this fine display wifi
surely return for more; those who
have not are urged to do so. It is
with a feeling of elation that only
an aesthetic experience can impart
that each observer of this exhibi
tion will leave. This display con
sists of twelve works by Mr. Brandt
and thirteen by Mr. Barker. The
methods employed are pen and ink,
lithography, pencil, wood cutting,
etching and aquatint, gouache, and
oil. Each artist has imbued his
work with that life-giving quality
which might be best described as
atmosphere. In each of these works
is found splendid evidences of skill
and imagination.
Mr. Brandt’s style is impressive
for it’s rich use of color and ex
pressiveness of design. Outstanding
examples of this are the “Roman
Market” and “Abstraction”. If the
term modern is to be used in quota
tion marks and capital letters then
it is very doubtful if Mr. Brandt’s
paintings are anymore modern than
some of the paintings of the post-
impressionists, Indeed, the works
included in the present display re
mind me of the late nineteenth
century art. A lithograph, “The
Metro,” with its heavy lines and
distinctive mood, is very reminis
cent of certain works of the mod
ern French master Georges Rouault.
The impression .conveyed by Mr.
Brandt’s work is, regardless of whaG
ever else, one of an artist who is
extremely conscious of what he
wants to express and, (what is
equally important) one who knows
how to express it.
Mr. Barker is represented chiefly
by his pencil and pen and ink draw
ings. In these works the artist has
succeeded in capturing the essen
tial mood of his subject and in
many instances has recorded his
impressions with a skill that is al
most photographic. Excellent ex
amples of this are a “Still Life” and
“Portrait-of Mary”. With pen and
ink he has created an atmosphere
which is at once compelling and
intensive. “Corridor” and “Animal,
Trainer” are both of this nature.
Judging from this show, Mr. Barker
is an artist who believes in realism
as well as in abstraction.
In conclusion it may be safely
said that Winston-Salem will not
need to travel to Washington or
New York in order to experience
the fruits of an excellent art ex
hibit. Thanks to two Salem Col
lege art professors, this is in our
very midst.
Liz Leland Reviews
Look Homeward, Angel
by Liz Leland
“A stone, a leaf, an unfound door;
of a stone, a leaf, a door.” Our
entire lives are spent in seeking
the key word, act, or thought which
■will'reveal to uj what is under the
stone, what is on the other side of
the leaf, and what is behind the
closed door. We search and we
search, but we rarely find, except
in death. Death, therefore, is an
ine-vitable demon to be dreaded, for
we do not go to happier hunting
grounds. No, our ghosts roam the
streets and haunts of our living
years, and moan over their mistalfes
and the precious moments of time
they have wasted.
Such is Thomas Wolfe’s attitude
towards death. He formulates
these ideas in poetic prose in his
first novel. Look Home’ward, Angel.
We become acquainted with a
group of characters, all of whom
possess one fatal flaw. This flaw
is their preoccupation with death.
They eat, sleep, and drink death.
It becomes a phobia and a con
stant fear. *
Throughout his novel, Thomas
Wolfe intimates that death is syno
nymous with nature. It is one of
his constant themes. In the first
chapter of Look Homeward, Angel,
the setting is a wet, bleak day of
October. Oliver Gant, a sick, de
jected, and prematurely old man,
arrives in the town where he is to
spend the rest of his life. He is
eccentric. He is wild, and he wants
to die. Life holds nothing for him
in this town of winter. Then
Spring comes and a great change
takes place. The earth grows rich,
the trees blossom, the birds sing,
and Gant meets Eliza. Life takes
hold of him and he becomes hap
pier and more alive than he has
ever been before.
Gant is in the tombstone business,
a trade revealing his dark and
skeptic nature. He builds this busi
ness up much as he builds up the
terrifying idea of his own death.
It takes years to do this building,
but when Gast, hipiself, begins to
die, his business also begins to die.
It is his life, his bread and water,
and his soul.
We all have guardian angels, who
try to help us around the most dif
ficult turns in this maze. It is
when we cast aside or refuse to
acknowledge our angels that we be
come hopelessly lost and start on
the road to death. Gant’s angel is
materialistic, in the form of a
statue, and he knows it for only
six vears. He loves his angel, and
he hates it, depending on whether
he is drunk or sober. Nevertheless,
he sees it every day on the porch
of his shop and thus it serves as
a reminder of the good things in
life, which Gant very often forgets,
j Then he sells his large white angel,
and something W'lthin Gant begins
to happen. Mentally and physi
cally he begins to rot. He takes
his first steps along a road of night
mare pain, leading eventually to
death.
Death hangs over the Gant family
like the sword of Damocles. Each
member believes he has one foot
in the grave, and each member can
give sympathy only to himself.
There is no common love nor com
mon sympathy, either in life or in
death. We live only to satisfy our
own needs, to fulfil! our own ambi
tions. and yet, we must not die a
stranger. The latter represents the
climax of defeatism.
These concepts are developed in
a dynamic and forceful language by
Thomas Wolfe. He loses himself
in a fairy land of sense words and
artful description, yet the story is
well planned and manages to stay
on the same key, that of a family
of eccentric people. Repetition is
used constantly for effect. Thus
the reader never forgets, “A stone’
a leaf an unfound door; of a stone’
a leaf, a door.” ’
STONE
by Ruby Nelle Hauser
Stone
Chiseled, cut, hardened,
Stone
Shaped, planned, immovable,
Lusterless, grim.
You; your face—stone.
You were this.
When first I knew you.
Stone
With mallet and chisel.
Driven by curiosity,
This challenge I went to meet
And you remained unchanged ’
Stone
Then I knew that all my efforts
JNo dent could make.
For my chisel struck yours!
In shocked horror we knew.
We both Were—stone.
On behalf of the Student Government A
elation, I would like to thank all of yon
helped to make our dance last Saturday ni„u
not only possible but also pretty and eni^^
able. Our special appreciation goes to M
Lawrence who so willingly gave his time aurl
efforts to the promotion of the occassion T
■wish to thank also Mrs. Cummings and ft
dining room staff who were responsible fo*
the attractively arranged club dining ron''
and the appetizing refreshments during inte™
mission.
Our appreciation extends further to Mr
Brandt and his art department for the ev
catchins!' additions to the decorations. No
dance, and certainly the one Saturday nivht
was no exception, can run smoothly without
the help of Penn and Pat who stayed Ion?
.after visions of the evening were dancinv M
our pin-curled heads in dreamland,, to attend
to the numerous after-dance duties.
Finally, thank you girls, for giving your
time- in helping with the decorating. If*every-
one is as cooperative in the future as they were
last week, there should be no reason why we
can’t have many more successful dances
Louise Stacy
President of the Student
Government
PleaAe> /^oie>!
2>ea4> CJUto^:
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The other day I tried to read a .storv in the
New Yorker found in the Browsing Room of
the librarv. H was impossible because some
body had been amusing themselves by cuttino'
out pictures throughout the magazine. Next
I tried the Saturday Evening Post and it was
the same story. I^lease can’t something be
done about people wdio have not yet gone be
yond the eutting out paper dolls or cartoons
stage!’ If not, the library might as well dis
continue subscribing to this “light literature”
if we can’t enjoy it.
La't v-eek’s editorial said, “We felt like
ladies at the birthday dinner.” AYhy didn’t
we aet lilre ladies? AYhen Mrs. Cummings,
Miss Jjyteh, Russell and the maids spend their
time preparing a nice dinner, xve shouldn’t ^ct
a.s if we were at a Carolina football gome.
Since we have to beat glasses, scream, “Why
don t yon haul off and love me”, and have a
pep rally, the I. JR. S. set aside Monday night
for such purposes. AYhy don’t xve show oiir
appreciation by acting like partiallv civilized
human beings?
M. D.
ZJUto^:
Some time when you have extra space in the
Salemite will you please extend my greetings
to the girls at Salem. Never have I kiiQwn
finer girls and I enjoyed my year with them
and miss them very much. A happj^ and fruit
ful year to you all.
It -was so nice to see you all when I was
down, but my visit was all too short. I plan
on coming down next year for commencement.
At present, that looks a long way off.
Cordially,
Ida L. Samson
Salemite