September issue of Duke Chronicle Towerview Magazine

TOWERVIEW SEPTEMBER 2009

ST A TE OF THE ART

PICASSO’S PLACE IN A COLLEGIATE CONTEXT

from the editors D

uke students can always count on the f irst month of school to be good for some things. (Tailgate!) The last two years, for example, have brought tour-de-force exhibits to the Nasher Museum of Ar t, a bastion of culture on this college campus. Last year heralded “El Greco to Velázquez,” the Nasher’s biggest

TOWERVIEW Chelsea Allison and Ben Cohen EDITORS-IN-CHIEF

Lawson Kurtz

DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY

Christine Hall

Naureen Khan

Will Robinson

Alex Klein

ASSOCIATE EDITOR EXECUTIVE EDITOR

ASSOCIATE EDITOR

Caroline McGeough ASSOCIATE EDITOR

EDITOR, TV ONLINE

ar t s & let ter s

Larsa Al-Omaishi, Courtney Douglas, Maddie Lieberberg, Adrivit Mukherjee, Michael Naclerio, Chase Olivieri CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Nim Barshad, Andrew Hibbard, Julius Jones, Kevin Lincoln, Julia Love, Charlie McSpadden, Lindsey Rupp, Sam Schlinkert, Eugene Wang CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

business & produc t ion

Jonathan Angier

Chrissy Beck

GENERAL MANAGER

ADVERTISING DIRECTOR

Barbara Starbuck

Rebecca Dickenson

PRODUCTION MANAGER

Mary Weaver

OPERATIONS MANAGER

RETAIL SALES MANAGER

Margaret Potter

STUDENT SALES MANAGER

Towerview is a subsidiary of The Chronicle and is published by the Duke Student Publishing Company, Inc., a non-profit corporation independent of Duke University. The opinions expressed in this magazine are not necessarily those of Duke University, its students, faculty, staff, administration or trustees. Columns, letters and cartoons represent the views of the authors.

To reach The Chronicle’s editorial office at 301 Flowers Building, call (919) 684-2663 or fax (919) 684-4696. To reach The Chronicle’s business office at 103 West Union Building, call (919) 684-3811. To reach The Chronicle’s advertising office at 101 West Union Building, call (919) 684-3811 or fax (919) 6848295. Contact the advertising office for information on subscriptions. Visit The Chronicle and Towerview online at dukechronicle.com 2009 The Chronicle, Box 90858, Durham, N.C. 27708. All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without the prior, written permission of the business office. Each individual is entitled to one free copy.

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TOWERVIEW

get in its four-year history. TIME Magazine called the Spanish show “wonderful,” and Duke went so far as to pitch the exhibit in Wallace Wade devotees—perhaps not a docent’s typical company.

There haven’t been football spots for “Picasso and the Allure of Language”—at least, we haven’t see one—but anyone who knows, well, any thing, can appreciate the signif icance of Pablo Picasso on Duke walls. TOWERVIEW associate editor Caroline McGeough, a senior, takes us into the oils of the museum’s latest coup and, in the process, tries to determine if students will take notice.

Whether they do or don’t, it’s already clear that there are cer tain aspects of Southern comfor t that students will routinely prefer. They’re the things we take for granted now, and, most likely, they’re the the seedlings of down-the-road reminiscings. Which is why we’re devoting a new section—The Green Light—to these pastimes, hobbies and slices of Duke life wor th consuming. Consider them endorsements, satisfaction (hopefully) guaranteed. And if not... try, try again: There will be two to three per issue.

For some, there’s no place that so encapsulates Durham as Shooters II, which f igures to have a monopoly on dir ty dancing these days. Contributing writer Sam Schlinker t, a senior, decided to take the Western saloon to an imaginary trial and excerpted the propro ceedings. Never has cour t been so disorderly—and, well, just plain fun.

Welcome back.

Conta t us at ContaC towerview0910@gmail.com or send letters to Towerview Magazine, Box 90858, Durham, NC 27708. To reach the main editorial office of The Chronicle, call (919) 684-2663.

VoLuME 11, IssuE 2

bLuE DEVIL CRossInG PAGE 5

syllabus

Summer before freshman year is supposed to be spent relaxing at the beach. Problem is, someone forgot to inform CASEY EDWARDS.

tHE DEVIL’s DEtaILs PAGE 9

TUCKER MAX’s premiere, a WALE concer t, a chat about MICHAEL JACKSON and a ridealong-gone-awry with a DUPD officer.

tHE aLLuRE oF PabLo PICasso PAGE 16

The Nasher Museum of Ar t’s latest feat is a progressive and prominent Picasso exhibit. So why aren’t students showing up in droves?

baCK to CLass PAGE 22

It’s not Goldman Sachs or McKinsey & Company, but Teach For America that houses the most Duke postgrads. Will that remain true?

RoaDsIDE WIsDoM PAGE 30

Baddest man in town JOHN BROWN, namesake of the John Brown Quintet, shares the lessons he’s learned from a life in music.

CHaRLIE McsPaDDEn is a Trinity senior from New York City who reviewed Tucker Max’s new movie for recess, for which he is film editor. He still enjoys jumping on bubble wrap and gets nervous when not around natural bodies of water.

Senior CaRoLInE McGEouGH enjoys applying cost-benefit analysis and ethical debates to mundane situations—like evaluating whether Shooters II is worth the new $10 cover.

(No.) She clings to irresponsibility in her last year before selling out to Corporate America.

Senior saM sCHLInKERt is a philosophy major from Darien, Ct. For the last three years he has called London home, and he has read at Oxford. He once saw a man conquer the McNugget challenge, but he has not stepped foot inside Shooters II since 2007.

on the cover

TOWE

RVIEW SEPTEM BER 2009

PabLo Lo PICasso and saMuEL Kootz, this month’s two cover boys, probably had no idea they would grace the pages of L a campus publication when they posed for MICHEL sIMa in Picasso’s studio in 1947 Paris. Sima’s black-and-white photo lives in the Smithsonian Institution’s Archives of American Ar t, copyrighted by Picasso’s estate and the Ar tists Rights Society.

Image in tow, LaW a son KuRtz aW R , our director of photography, used Adobe Illustrator to infuse some color into the foreground Rtz painting, “First Steps.” Before we knew it—voilà!—a cover was born, 62 years after the photoshoot.

PICAS PLAC SO’S COLL E IN A CONEGIATE TEX T

TOWERVIEW

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bus stop CASEY EDWARDS

P H OTO B Y C H A S E O L I V I E R I

TRINITY ’13

Except for the most politically astute, you may not recognize the name Dwight Drake.

He’s a prominent pro-education lawyer in South Carolina, a little reminiscent of Matlock, but only one in a crowded field of Democratic gubernatorial candidates trying to claim the seat of South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford come 2010.

(Yes, Mark Sanford. The one whose erratic, AWOL behavior and love letters to his Argentinean mistress dominated media coverage for a good chunk of June. That one.) >>> TOWERVIEW

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If you fast forward to 3 minutes and 52 seconds on Drake’s recently released campaign video, you may also recognize the face talking animatedly about Drake’s commitment to education. “[Mr. Drake] has a heart for students in South CaroCaro lina,” she says, her Southern pedigree written all over her voice. “He really cared about the fact that there was funding that wasn’t going to go to our students that they deserved.”

You may have heard that voice on East Campus at some point in the last few weeks.

You may have met her. You may know that her name is Casey Edwards and that she hails from a small town in South Carolina.

You may have heard that she’s a freshman and a Benjamin N. Duke scholar.

You may not know, however, that earlier this year—with the help of Drake, her lawlaw yer—Casey took her fiscally conservative governor all the way to the state Supreme Court over his refusal to accept $700 milmil lion of federal stimulus funds. You may not know that the day before her high school graduation, 18-year-old Casey bested the governor and won her case.

For someone who has been intimately acquainted with the political process and the national media spotlight, you might exex pect every sentence that comes out of her mouth to come off like a sound byte, for her to be something of a political junkie.

Not so. Casey readily confesses to having little taste for politics throughout most of her high school career. Perhaps even more surprising, she is the product of a conserconser vative upbringing. Her parents are former supporters of Gov. Sanford and her small, well-to-do town of Chapin, S.C. (popula(popula tion 687, at last count) leans Republican. “I didn’t know anything about lawsuits, I’m not a lawyer, I’ve never gone to law school and at that point, I hadn’t even gone to colcol lege,” Casey says. “I’d only taken governgovern ment in high school.”

Seasoned politico or not, her interest in the problems of the state’s public education system were sparked when she watched Corridor of Shame, a documentary chronichroni cling the woes of South Carolina’s impovimpov erished rural school districts along a stretch of Interstate 95. Moved by the film and never being one to take things lying down, Casey and a group of her friends fundraised $10,000 for East Elementary in the nearby town of Dillon, S.C., a school in which 90 percent of students live below the poverty line and administrators cannot afford eses sential supplies. “Seeing the documentary and knowing that some of these schools were less than an hour away and I had no TOWERVIEW

idea.... It was completely mind-blowing to me,” Casey says. “The conditions there were so heart-wrenching, we just felt like we had to do something.”

Her work with East Elementary caught the attention of the director and producer of Corridor of Shame, Bud Ferillo, and soon she was one of the few student advocates working with him on a campaign to improve the quality of public education in South Carolina. So when in February, Gov. Sanford refused to take federal stimulus money unless it was used to pay off state debt, Casey made the perfect petitioner.

When Ferillo put her in touch with the lawyers hoping to launch a suit against the governor, however, Casey was far from jumping on board right away. “‘Are you serious? Do you have the right number? This is me you’re talking to.’ That was my first thought,” she says of receiving the call from lawyers Drake and Dick Harpootlian. “‘Why am I the one that needs to do this? Why can’t someone else?

Why does it have to be my name on it?’”

Eventually, Casey did sign on, and for the next three months in the midst of finals, AP exams, college admissions, scholarship interviews (including the B.N.) and graduation, Casey Edwards vs. The State of South Carolina wound its way through the state’s court system. Casey was immediately thrust into national prominence. “The Student Versus the Governor” was the aptlynamed CBS Evening News segment about her legal battle.

“It didn’t hit me that I’m filing a Supreme Court case with just my name on it—Casey Edwards vs. The State of South Carolina—until it was broadcasted and people were asking me about it and saying,

‘Congratulations, we support you,’ or ‘We don’t support you at all’—there was that, too,” Casey says. “Getting out of the car and having microphones shoved in your face to have comments on this, that and the other at times got very overwhelming and it was just like, ‘I don’t want this. I’d rather not have all of this,’ But at the same time, it was a cause that I knew I wanted to fight for.”

Get Casey talking about public education in the state, however, and it’s clear to see why she decided to stick it out. On June 5, the South Carolina Supreme Court ruled in her favor, ordering Gov. Sanford to apply for the stimulus funds, to be used to bolster the state’s education infrastructure.

“I’m not going to a South Carolina school, I’m not receiving the funds, I’m no longer in public education in South Carolina but my siblings are and my friends are. I see, I know and I’ve lived in that and I want it to be better for the people that I know,” she says. “It was a great thing. There’s nothing to describe the feeling.”

As for the future, Casey is looking forward to bigger and better things. She’s moved past her 15 minutes of fame, but does one day hope to enter the world of politics on her own. Few of her fellow Blue Devils associate her with the Supreme Court case (aside from the customary shout-out from Dean of Admissions Christoph Guttentag during convocation).

She’d like to keep it that way. “It’s something that I’m proud of and it’s gotten me where I am today, but I don’t want it to define me,” she says. “I don’t want it to be my tagline: Casey Edwards, the girl who sued the governor.”

—NAUREEN KHAN

BUCKETS Every 14-year-old boy knows that Cinemax turns to “Skin-emax” after 1 a.m., that most local police shifts end at 3 or 4, and that, well, sometimes, the best things in life aren’t on the menu.

I don’t remember when I learned about The Bucket, but it wasn’t from my blurred vision desperately scanning the too-bright menu for something that appealed to

my intoxicated stomach, nor was it from the peppy ads and their catchy, skatted melodies.

We can only hypothesize how the 50 McNugget snack came to be. Personally, I prefer to imagine a crave-driven fratboy, looking for a feat to impress his bros, slurred something along the lines of: “Fifftee eamn danuugget” to a disgruntled McDonald’s employee

and, rather than correct this asshole for the hundredth time, he found a bucket and told the cooks in the back to fill ’er up. From there the legend of the 50 Bucket spread via fraternity listservs and greasestained evidence left in fluorescent hallways, stacked atop Busch Light cardboard already overflowing 50-gal. trash cans.

Some naysayers will claim that The Bucket is clearly meant for groups of hungry people looking for a discount (less than 23 cents per McNugget), and perhaps even words like “Tailgate” or “par tysized” will be weakly tossed about.

But if you could only look out from behind the counter, blocking out the laughter and taunts of his fellow bros, you would see the hear t of the challenge, the most human of engagements, in the cold, hard eyes of the one brave enough to take on the beast unaided.

To wit, a breakdown of what our hero will consume: • 2,300 calories.

• 6.25 mg iron (50 percent

daily value).

• 145 g fat (220 percent DV).

• 120 g protein.

• 350 mg cholesterol (115 per percent DV).

• 5,000 mg sodium (212.5 percent DV; more than two teaspoons of salt).

• Net weight: 1.75 pounds. “[Students] get it in groups, during par ties, mostly at night,” said McDonald’s manager Sara Gonzalez, through a translator, pointing to the new cardboard box that the 50 nuggets come in nowadays subtly displayed on top of a piece of the stainless steel kitchen furniture with the price written in Sharpie—the only visible adver tisement.

By box or bucket, I entreat you to stop by our most global of oncampus eateries and, if complete sentences fail you, merely grumble the words “50” and “nugget.”

You’ll definitely regret it. But if nothing else, you’ll have ordered off the menu.

—SAM SCHLINKERT

P H OTO CO U R T E S Y C R E AT I V E CO M M O N S U S E R m y _ a m i i

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THE GREEN LIGHT CR ACKPOT SCHEMES The absurd business venture is almost as integral a freshman experience as Marketplace brunch, section parties, poor situational awareness or—if Asher Roth could have it his way— “doing something crazy.” When we’re young, we have these demigods of college entrepreneurship looming above our heads: if Rick Rubin could slap together Def Jam in his dorm room, or Mark Zuckerberg could turn a classmate’s concept into a generation-defining, multi-billion dollar social leviathan, then what’s stopping us? Although the Internet is becoming an over overcrowded graveyard for our abortive Web startups, all we can see are the bright beacons of painfully simple, overnight success.

Duke, like most other universities, is a veritable powerhouse of entrepreneurial spirit, and it all starts on East Campus. These endeavors are almost never successful, significant, or even logical, but it matters not. Collective failure is a transcendent bond.

I can’t remember who I sat next to in freshman seminars, but I can immediately recall who

was in the common room when we first fired up our new T-shirt press. We proudly manufactured custom graphic tees for Tailgates and date functions for two weeks before someone pointed out that not one of our eight loyal customers had paid us. What mattered was that we all went broke together—solidarity achieved through one big fail.

Whether you tried to transform your 12-by-12 Gilber t-Addoms double into a late night diner, or you attempted to outsource your Duke-Carolina tenting duty to a temp agency, this early taste of capitalist adventure was formative. It’s the first step towards entrepreneurial greatness. The guy that star ted QDuke.com and another relatively (though somewhat inexplicably) successful Web site where he and his buddies scratch lottery tickets over a live video stream? He star ted out as an East Campus RA, monopolizing all haircutting on his f loor and dishing out uneven buzz cuts for $3 apiece.

In this new dawn after the economic mayhem of the past year, outlets for our entrepreneurial drive may be harder to come by. There aren’t enough Wall Street intern-

ships and research grants to go around; eager angel investors and easy student loans are things of the past. Despite it all, though, I would hope that East Campus is still alive with the crackpot schemes of our newest class. It’s a beautiful reaffirmation of the trademark, deep-seated oppor tunism which sets us apar t. Hats off to every amateur restaurant, adver tising firm, recording studio, microbrewery, textile factory, dating service, and barbershop hidden away in the safety of the dorms. The quad is our oyster.

—NIM BARSHAD TOWERVIEW

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E H T

EN E R G

bus stop

T H G LI

UNORIGINAL KITSCH

“I think people in Durham divide,” said Stephanie Murn, Trinity ’97 and a Durham Public Schools employee. “You’re either a Rodeo per person or you’re a Torero’s person, and I am definitely a Torero’s person.”

It’s not the 25-percent student discount that attracts people like Murn.

It’s the one-of-a-kind décor that has them coming back for seconds.

The ar twork that surrounds a patron enjoying a meal seems to have no set geographical origin. On one wall, there are Aztec-like renderings of bare-chested warriors rescuing bare-chested women in various harrowing situations. Directly across the restaurant, there are murals of Spanish bullfighting scenes. “It is kind of like old-world Spain,” reminisced Cate Smith, who, along with Kim Turk, enjoys the “Nor th Carolina-meets-Mexican” vibe of the eatery so much that they snapped their wedding pictures in a Torero’s booth.

The eclectic mix of Latin themes would naturally bring out anyone’s inner interior designer, so perhaps you can explain why a stuffed squirrel and deer head are mounted on a wall. Tuck couldn’t: “I don’t know what the deer head is doing here,” but the Duke Medical Center employee does not mind the seemingly haphazard combination of items in the restaurant. “It’s not sterile, like work.”

What makes Torero’s original, therefore, is its stunning lack of originality. The restaurant literally appears as if someone was giv-

en the task of placing every stereotype about Hispanic culture into one building and succeeded with flying colors. Then that someone splashed those colors all over the wall.

And that’s the appeal. Its greatness is its whimsical quality; completely not based in reality, but everything you hope an evening stroll down a village road in a far-off Spanish-speaking land after a siesta would be. For people who dream of those far-off lands, Torero’s is the next best thing.

In fact, it may be better. Foreign voyages can disappoint.

—JULIUS JONES —

Pop Quiz Q: What is Towerview?

TOWERVIEW (tou´

r vyü) n.

e

1. A street that runs through Duke; connects the Gothic Wonderland to the outside world.

2. A perspective from a high altitude or intellect; as in an ivory tower.

3. The Chronicle’s monthly news perspectives magazine; cuts across Duke lives with a new edge.

A: All of the above.

Copies available at Chronicle newstands throughout campus.

Off-campus subscriptions available! Only $28/year.

Order online at www.dukechronicle.com or call 919-684-3811.

Discounts available when you also subscribe to The Chronicle.

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TOWERVIEW

the devil’s details

RIDING AROUND THE CITY

W

hile most of my compatriots spent their first Saturday back at Duke carousing, I spent my night riding shotgun in a cop car.

The Duke University Police Department welcomes students to ride along with officers—for educational purposes, reads the waiver I signed before I set out with DUPD Officer David Dyson at 9 p.m. that night. As a University Editor for The Chronicle, I arranged my ride with Chief John Dailey to get the inside scoop on DUPD. When my fateful night arrived, my excitement easily overcame my disappointment at working while my friends enjoyed their night off. You can get buzzed any night, I told myself. How often do you get the chance to bust section parties, cite naked students and catch the bad guys?

Dyson has worked for DUPD for five years.

A 27-year-old vegetarian and self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie, Dyson attended the police academy and joined DUPD directly after graduating college. As I settled into the passenger seat and we headed down Campus Drive, “I’m on a Boat” played on Dyson’s iPod. It mixed with the radio feeds in the background. The night started off slow enough—in between busting a Kappa Alpha Order frat party in Craven, helping a woman who had locked her keys in her office and responding to call about a couple in the midst of a loud argument on Main Street,

Dyson and I chatted about my major, the OnlyBurger truck and his distrust of journalists.

When we pulled into the parking lot of a church on a corner of Main Street, things began to get more interesting. We spotted a black man with a profound limp wearing a black shirt, a do-rag and hat, which fit the admittedly vague description of the suspects in at least two recent violent robberies in the area. I decided to stay in the car as Dyson stepped out to ask the man his name and search him.

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel I should say that I am a Durham native. I know my way around the city. I went to elementary and middle school a block off East Campus, and I am familiar with the seedier parts of Durham most Duke students won’t ever see. But I have never seen Durham from the perspective I did during the nine hours I spent riding with Dyson. I have never interacted with homeless people, people who live below the poverty line and people on the edge of the law in the way Dyson does on a regular basis.

This 40-year-old homeless man was Elton Keith Henderson. He was “to’ up from the flo’ up,” said Dyson, and had a Brillo pad in his pocket. He started down a hill to the back of the BP gas station. Dyson followed, and I waited in the car. That hill would have been tough to navigate in flip-flops at nearly 4 a.m., but it was anxiety holding me back more than

my footwear.

I finally joined Dyson and another DUPD officer who had come in as back up. We stood by Henderson, now seated and in handcuffs, while Dyson tried to verify that he had an arrest warrant for petty larceny. The officer and Henderson began to argue over Henderson’s Brillo pad.

“Is it illegal to carry a Brillo pad now?”

Henderson asked.

“It is when I think you’re using it to smoke crack,” the officer said. “What do you use it for?”

“To wash dishes,” Henderson replied.

“Where do you keep your dishes?” the officer asked.

“In my house,” Henderson said.

“Where’s your house?” the officer asked.

“The trash can.”

Just as I began to feel comfortable, even amused, Henderson grew agitated.

“Somebody’s got to pay,” he kept saying, and he made references to “white ladies” and a “white bitch” I could only assume was me.

Dyson told me later that Henderson was probably trying to get committed to the psychiatric ward where the food and service would be more pleasant than a jail cell. Still, as he sat on the curb in his Hanes undershirt with the sleeves torn off, his underwear, which must have been white at TOWERVIEW

P H OTO B Y L AW S O N K U R T Z

DURHAM DIARY

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some time but was now yellowed and visible over his rolled-up jeans, his half-eaten burrito beside him, I began to pity him.

When Dyson verified the warrant and was ready to take Henderson to jail, he turned to me.

“Do you want to go home, or do you want to go to the jail?” he asked. It was just past 4 a.m. I had been riding with him for seven hours. The idea of jail, much less being in a car with Henderson, was not appealing. But after seven hours I couldn’t turn back now.

In the confined Impala, not only did Henderson continue to make threats, but his scent was inescapable even from the other side of the cage. Henderson turned to me again when we got to the Durham County Jail. He told me to remember his face as we walked from the squad car to the prison door with its sign reminding entrants not to bring weapons inside.

He was still belligerent as we waited to see the magistrate. Henderson sat in a chair, Dyson sat with me at a neighboring table and began filling out Henderson’s paperwork. Dyson’s patience seemed to be wearing thin as Henderson accused him of being crooked and demanded his burrito back. Henderson was so agitated that the magistrate called out from the next room asking if there was a problem. “I understand [that he is unhappy], but he’s in my courtroom now so he needs to put on a happy face,” the magistrate said.

At 4:44 a.m. it was Henderson’s turn to see the magistrate. He had been uncuffed for some time, and the anxiety in the pit of my stomach had returned. As Dyson was leading Henderson into the holding area, Henderson directed all his attention toward me.

“Let me see that fat pussy,” he said.

“Yeah, big pussy. I’m going to dream about that pussy tonight.” He bent over to try to get a better look at my lower half under the table and told me to spread my legs.

To him, I was just a 5-foot-3 white girl, a 115-pound object. All night I had only thought of myself as the journalist and my gender hadn’t seemed particularly significant. At that moment I was painfully aware that I was a woman and, to him, nothing more.

Dyson led him behind the sliding door, where Henderson continued to mutter. I couldn’t hear his words, but I could see him pressed against the window in the door and hear Dyson trying to distract him. Then he went for his pants. I don’t know if he whipped it out. I was instead looking intently through my notes, feeling my face flush and trying not to show any emotion.

TOWERVIEW

“Hey! She doesn’t want to see that and neither do I,” I heard Dyson yell. Finally, Henderson was led into the next room where he continued to leer at me from behind the windows.

I knew I wasn’t in danger. I knew Henderson couldn’t attack me—there were armed police all around since we were in prison, and after spending almost eight hours with Dyson, I trusted that he wouldn’t let Henderson near me.

But I did feel entirely helpless. I could do nothing to stop him, and I even began to wonder what I had done to bring it on. Was my outfit—a T-shirt and jeans—too provocative?

Should I have been sitting differently? Perhaps I should have expected it, and part of me did, but I had believed my last seconds with Henderson would pass as uneventfully as the first few.

Later, when Henderson was securely behind bars on $500 bail, I asked Dyson what goes through his mind in those situations. “[With Henderson I thought] ‘I’m going to have to kick this guy’s ass.’ I don’t want to fight anyone, I will if I have to,” Dyson said. “If you get into this for the power trip, you’re in it for the wrong reasons.… and you’re going to have to do a mountain of paperwork for use of force.”

As I walked into my dorm room at 6:15 a.m., I was glad Dyson didn’t have to do a mountain of paperwork. And when Henderson’s voice filled my head as I lay awake, I was relieved I only had to ride shotgun one night.

—LINDSEY RUPP

FACULTY COMMONS

MAN IN THE VIRTUAL MIRROR

T

he following is a smattering of the names Mark Anthony Neal dropped in a recent 50-minute, streaming Q&A: Skip Gates, Rick James, Eddie Murphy, Jay-Z, James Brown, Courtney Love, Sammy Davis Jr., Walter Yetnikoff, Luther Vandross, Prince and, of course, Barack Obama. All of them are tangentially related to the cultural phenomenon of Michael Jackson, or, in some way, they have influenced Neal’s interpretation of the King of Pop’s legacy, a field that he considers as seriously as any other professor. “Yes, it is entertainment,” the professor of African & African American Studies conceded. “But it’s also part of the American cultural legacy, and serious artists, if they do serious work—we need to take that work seriously, as artists, critics, scholars and, in some cases, simply as fans.”

So much he explained in an installment of Duke’s latest digital initiative, Online Office Hours, in which a professor uses a streaming video podcast to take questions on his field of expertise from e-mail, Facebook and Twitter. (The in-the-flesh moderator seems curiously antiquated.) The segment aired live on USTREAM—the same site luminaries like Stephon Marbury have used to

the devil’s details

SILVER SCREEN

TUCKER’S INFERNO

A

s another simmering summer day ends on North Carolina State’s campus, commotion broils around the Witherspoon Student center. A line of students— some swinging lanyards around their fingers, others high-fiving and reenacting stories from the night before—stroll past dozens of reporters and a gauntlet of anti-rape protesters to join the line for the evening’s entertainment: Tucker Max, the self-proclaimed womanizer and asshole and Duke Law graduate, and a screening of his new film I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. The protesters silently pass out flyers, smiling as they let their posters speak for themselves: Stop Supporting Rape Culture, Real Men Respect Women and This Is Not Entertainment.

Inside the theater, the rape protester gathering is swapped for a gauntlet of post-college 20-year-old promoters, who all possess seasoned fraternity swagger. The welcoming party’s first gift is a red, IHTSBIH wristband, which further blurs the lines between movie premiere and frat party. Next is a black gym bag, stuffed with a bumper sticker, movie poster, T-shirt and beer mug. Compiled by Max’s company, Rudius Media, self-promotion has never been more shameless.

Now fully equipped for a gym-cumroom decorating-cum-Shooters progressive, attendees stroll past a wall of YOUR FACE HERE posters into the theater. Rap music (Project Pat, Young Jeezy, Geto Boys) bumps underneath the booming voice of executive producer Nils Parker, Max’s bulldog-looking sidekick who is the night’s emcee. “Hey there, bunch of tight-shirted guidos,” he barks at a group who enters. Then, turning to the crowd: “They walk around hearing trance music all day.”

Max stands off to the side at first, sipping from a red Solo cup, scrolling through his iPod, but eventually he jumps on stage.

“Cocksicle?” he jokes as a few girls enter with popsicles in hand. The fraternitymeeting-style running commentary continues, but Parker and Max’s banter spares no one, as they are as likely to deride each other as they are the audience. “Don’t worry, I’ll stop speaking soon,” Parker says.

The protest, both in its subject matter and the individuals involved, features prominently in the duo’s exchange. “[The people outside] can’t accept reality, can’t make an informed decision. You got your rape whistle? You going to sit on it during the show?”

Parker quips. “Fucking bullshit,” Max chimes

in. “It’s not 1959 anymore.”

Bored with coming up with their own material, the pair then opens up the floor to the audience to tell embarrassing or humorous personal stories. This move benefits both parties: It provides fanboys the opportunity to out-Tucker Max the real Tucker Max, and subsequently offers Max and Parker pitifully easy targets to continue the derisiveness.

Bro No. 1 offers up a story about (surprisingly enough) attending a Duke Tailgate, getting “waste-facested,” drawing a swastika on a student’s door and breaking one of the televisions at the McDonald’s. “You sound like a fucking prick,” Max immediately fires back, crushing said bro’s hopes of gaining any sort of recognition for his outlandishness.

Other than this instance, every time Max’s law school alma mater enters the conversation, it receives a harshly negative evaluation. Perhaps Max is playing to his strengths with the N.C. State crowd, but his negative portrayal of Duke is painfully hypocritical. He takes every chance he gets to name-drop the institution, but nonetheless relates how TOWERVIEW

P H OTO B Y L AW S O N K U R T Z

broadcast their life—and subtly highlighted the Web site’s first higher education partnership. Neal’s episode was sandwiched by drop-ins with David Goldstein, director of the IGSP Center for Human Genome Variation, and Bill Chameides, dean of the Nicholas School. That is, not cultural critics of Jackson’s discography like Neal, who previously wrote the lead essay for a threeCD Jackson collection and now is writing album notes for unreleased Jackson 5 master recordings. Neal is teaching two classes this semester, one of which is “Spike Lee and the New Black Aesthetic.” His widely-read blog is called NewBlackMan. He not only grooved to Jackson’s music as a kid, but also used a glorified version of Jackson as inspiration. Trying to imagine one’s place in the world is a harrowing, oceanic experience, and role models bring us to shore.

So Neal turned to the King of Pop for entertainment, for comfort and, when dealing with his first inklings of romance, for guidance.

I can’t know for sure but I would bet that, as a child, Neal absorbed Jackson’s music the same way he did for the camera Aug. 28.

When the Jackson 5’s “Can You Remember” started to play, Neal, sitting in front of a white background wearing a black buttondown shirt with white stripes and thickrimmed glasses, bopped his head, pursed his lips, swayed along and smiled like the camera wasn’t rolling.

From there he asserted that Jackson, and others, made white America comfortable with black cultural icons in the mainstream, which, eventually, paved the way for Obama’s election. “Their successors,” he said, referring to forebearers like Jackson, Bill Cosby and Eddie Murphy, “were very much like the first black family that moved into a white neighborhood.” He hadn’t referenced Obama since the very beginning of his answer, but the allusion was about as catchy as an M.J. beat.

A viewer e-mailed in a question about how Jackson’s death and so-called “tabloid woes” would affect further interpretation of his body of work. Neal localized the response. In the weeks since Jackson’s death, he reminisced, Neal’s young daughters started listening to Jackson and instinctively choosing their favorite songs, instead of simply accepting their father’s playlist. His music will outlast the static noise, Neal predicted.

More questions rolled in from e-mail and Twitter, and Neal handled them easily, citing his work on black popular culture at will.

Soon, the last of his three hand-picked tracks, “Wanna Be Starting Something,” played as the screen faded. The door to office hours slammed shut with a blissful thud.

—BEN COHEN

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the devil’s details

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BANDSTAND

WHO’S CHILLIN’ WITH WALE?

E

ast Campus is a part of Duke, and freshmen are Duke students. But if a concert—namely, Wale’s appearance Friday, Aug. 28—was produced in such a way that 75 percent of undergraduates had little chance of showing up, was it truly a Duke event?

It’s rare that the Duke University Union provides us an occasion that can be used so clearly as a barometer of the concert scene on campus.

Joe College Day and LDOC have built-in draws, virtues that transcend and render irrelevant the question of who’s actually playing. Alcohol will do that. But this—a seemingly spontaneous production, unrelated to any canonical holiday, where the only selling point is the music—is something from which the programming community can learn. And here’s the lesson: A performer is only going to get students over to East Campus if they know he’s coming.

A little background for the uninitiated: Wale is a big deal. To put it in the context of recent performers, The Roots were a Wale once, and Wale will likely be a Roots in a year or two. And in terms of mainstream recognition, he outshines Girl Talk without much debate. His opener, a rapper from Fayetteville, N.C. named J. Cole, is less recognizable, but he’s also got some credibility. That’s what happens when Jay-Z features you on his new album.

“I can sell out a 2,500 capacity club with six days promotion nowadays,” Wale told me a few days before the show. Keep in mind that those 2,500 are buying tickets. His show at Duke was free, and it had far more than six days of promotion; it was mentioned on recess’ Playground

blog Aug. 2, when it was referred to as “somewhat old news.”

It also doesn’t hurt that a perfect storm of circumstances led to the performance. DUU Major Attractions Director Liz Turner said that not only did Wale accept an offer within the Union’s budget, but he had contacted them, not the other way around.

So, the big question: did the show succeed?

Yes. Did it succeed as much as it could have? No. And that underachievement came in the form of a disproportionate number of freshmen in the crowd, reflecting a rather small showing of nonEast Campus Duke students.

The freshmen were out in force. Despite the rain, a few hundred were there when they could’ve been sitting in their rooms with the windows open, dry and relaxed. There are people who enjoy listening to concerts like that. But first-year participation was almost a foregone conclusion. “If you have loud music playing on East Campus during orientation week, freshmen will be drawn to it like moths to a flame without a poster telling them what it is,” DUU Executive Marketing Director Adam Barron wrote in an e-mail.

Barron admitted that “not much” was done to advertise for the Wale concert, as it’s “hard to get people to do a lot over the summer.” He wrote that upwards of 150 or 200 posters were printed, and that Facebook and Twitter were utilized as much as possible in spreading the word. “We didn’t spend much money on marketing for the Wale show,” he wrote. “It kind of markets itself.”

P H OTO B Y L AW S O N K U R T Z

terrible a time he had here. His relationship with Duke is a prime example of how Max paints himself as a tragic intellectual held back by unavoidable douchebaggery. Oh, that it should come to this, Tucker!

As Max quickly outdoes his adoring audience members’ stories with his most recent sexcapade at the goal line of University of Florida’s football field, one wonders whether to believe in the Tucker Max behind the self-promotion.

He relates later on that this womanizing is a phase—that he wants to settle down, get married and have children.

But Max digs a new hole for himself with each morning-after blog post, photo upload and lawsuit. Furthermore, his selfaggrandizement must affect the organic nature of every new antic he embarks upon, prompting women to sleep with him for their own promotion, for the glory of the story. He clearly reaps the benefits now, but perhaps a more disquieting fate awaits Max, like that of the Frank Sinatra doppelganger Johnny Fontane in Mario Puzo’s The Godfather: alone, hosting women who don’t care or come back and watching his talent fade fast.

In the meantime, Max can enjoy the comical and bizarre effect he’s had on America’s youth. During the post-screening Q&A, a 20 year old stands up and invites Tucker to his home in Alaska to go fishing with him. A girl professes her love for Max and asks a question about his sex Rolodex (city name first, girl’s name second, special talent third). Another girl relates that she brought Max’s book to college instead of the Bible.

This intense, evidently religious following must hold a frightening mirror up to American culture. Max’s popularity undoubtedly reveals that society secretly savors salaciousness and is fueled by gossip. But it’s a commentary we hear everywhere and we see executed by similarly morally questionable, but far more complex characters—Mad Men’s Don Draper, for instance. But Max and his pseudo-fictional film counterpart lack depth and personality, and inspire no desire for further investigation. One can only hope Max exits his current life stage, negating the need for his place in American culture, and is flushed out of sight like another Internet phenomenon, JuicyCampus.

For now, as long as America continues to buy into the exploitation, Max can—and will—throw back his head, cackle and flash his devilish grin.

—CHARLIE McSPADDEN

the devil’s details

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After all, a flame needn’t advertise toward moths. But those upperclassmen from West and Central and those seniors who live off campus, they’re more like moths from out-of-town: They’re probably not going to find that flame on their own.

The problem with this show wasn’t the execution. The stage did seem a little small, and J. Cole was left to fend for himself without the aid of a visible DJ—the man looked like he was surrounded and trying to rap his way out, and it’s a testament to his formidable skills that he eventually took control—but it was still a fun, high-energy display of prodigious party hip-hop.

The audience wasn’t inconsequential, though the numbers did fall below DUU’s estimate, which Turner put at more than 1,000.

Still, Turner said she was pleased with the turnout. “I was talking with [Wale] afterwards and he was pumped about how many people showed up,” she said. “And I know J. Cole made a specific reference about how happy he was that ev everyone was there despite the rain, and he had a smaller audience than Wale did.” Some other schools were represented, and a few dozen Durham residents had made their

way over as well.

What it comes down to, it seems, is faulty intent. It’s one thing to mar market a show primarily to freshmen. It’s another to intend for it to be mainly a freshman event.

Every member of this school— regardless of their year—equally funds DUU, and while the Union would not disclose how much it shelled out for Wale, the cost of these concerts are not insignificant. What this means is that, free show or not, all attempts should be made to attract and benefit as many students as possible, from every year—not just one. In fact, the lack of a ticket fee makes it all the more important, because the costs won’t be recouped. Whatever money was used on this show is gone, and if you didn’t partake, then that’s a chunk of the programming budget that you’ll never see again.

If you chose not to show up, that’s one thing. Even LDOC doesn’t see 100 percent participation. But at least you had the choice. But if you didn’t know about it, and you weren’t able to make that choice, then something was amiss. After all, it was a great show. Next time, just invite everyone to the party.

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TOWERVIEW

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the devil’s details

THE FUNNY PAGES

EXCERPTS FROM LITIGATION AGAINST SHOOTERS II “Some students predicted that they will keep the club packed and sweaty, if only for lack of a better option. George’s Garage—a restaurant that was once a popular venue for Greek crush parties and formals—closed its doors in July, further depleting students’ options for drinking and dancing in the wee hours of the morning.”

—“Shooters Raises Fee” in The Chronicle, Aug. 25, 2009 A modest courtroom lit by the afternoon sunshine flooding through the small, simple panes of tall, cathedral windows.

Bailiff: Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye!

All rise for the honorable Judge presiding. Case 1173, High Council of Frat vs.

Shooters II. Judge: Read off the charges!

Bailiff: Read off the charges!

Clerk: Shooters II is charged with the following: price gouging, unfair competition and (under her breath) stripping dignity.

Judge: Let the plaintiff address the court.

A young man wearing whale-print Nantucket Reds and a blue-and-white striped shirt stands up as he removes his Ray Bans, letting his Vineyard Vines croakies catch them against his broad chest. fratStar 1: Your Honor, we are here today to expose the antitrust practices of Shooters II, a Western-style saloon that has recently muscled out George’s Garage, a serious competitor— Suit: Objection! The commotion over George’s closing is mostly from guys who regularly ordered $30 steaks on their girlfriend’s food points.

Judge: Sustained. Those steaks were delicious and will be sorely missed.

Murmurs of agreement come from the crowd. fratStar 1: To continue! With George’s out of the way, Shooters quietly doubled its cover charges before the incoming freshmen noticed. Then, citing the cost of securing such items, the bar began selling forgotten cell phones back to students at cost, or, in most unfortunate cases, to the highest bidder.

More murmurs of agreement from the crowd. fratStar 1: Johnny, why don’t you take over. fratStar 2, wearing a yellow polo meant to match his partner, stands and walks over 14

TOWERVIEW

to an large chart placed on an easel. fratStar 2: As you can see, our research shows that money spent directly correlates to fratmospheric pressure.

Here in green we can see that, prior to the price hike, a relatively high fratmospheric pressure could be achieved for as little as $12 per person. Now, displayed here in red, we see a steeper slant.

Achieving a pressure of 40 Belushis tonight costs upward of $25.

Suit: Objection! The prosecution is blatantly using pseudo-science and pretty colors to lure us in to their confidences.

Judge: Overruled. Clearly they are using the methods they are most familiar with. fratStar 2: Thank you, Your Honor. He takes a sip from a Solo cup before continuing. Now in a moment, the defense will argue that these increased fees merely cover the cost of the extra security we have seen at the bar. What they won’t mention, however, is that these chaperones are mostly there to separate consenting adults under the auspices of H1-No-Fun. It’s despicable that Shooters would use such sanitary excuses to inhibit the promiscuity of Duke students after a hard week of classes. *** Suit: We’d like to call a witness to the stand, Your Honor. The defense calls katherine harriSon. A freshman girl places her hand over an iPhone, with Safari open to a cached JuicyCampus thread.

Bailiff: Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God? katherine: As much as I remember.

Suit: Could you please tell the jury what you did Thursday night? katherine: Well, we had a girl’s pregame in Katie’s room and lislis tened to “Boom Boom Pow” and “I Got a Feeling” on repeat.

Kathy brought BlueberBlueber ry Smirnoff in Vitamin Water bottles. We took some pictures of ourselves in the mirror. Once I had

four drinks, we... fratStar 2: Objection! Those pictures were not found on Facebook. katherine: Oh, I totally de-tagged them the next morning before I went to Alpine to get my Fro-Yo. I don’t want McKinsey seeing those.

Crowd chuckles and sighs in lament.

Judge: Overruled. It’s clear you have your priorities in order, sweetheart.

Please continue. katherine: So then we went over to Charlie’s room in Edens and well, we all know that Kelsey totally has a thing for his roommate Mitch and well...

Suit: Katherine, dear, if you don’t mind, could we get to the case at hand?

When did you get to Shooters? katherine: Around 12:30. I don’t really remember paying a cover... maybe it was that boy. Anyway I hooked up on the D-floor with this gorgeous guy from my EOS class. A slightly nervous look comes over her face as she glances worriedly at the iPhone and then back at the Suit. Well, actually we were closer to the entrance of the bathrooms. There were some security guards separating people that were too close on the D-floor. It was like Footloose or something.

The crowd chuckles at her reference and this puts a smile and sense of ease back in her expression.

Suit: And Katherine, dear, for the record, how were you feeling the next day?

Katherine snaps out of her search for friendly faces and fixes her eyes on some imaginary point at the back of the courthouse.

the devil’s details katherine: The next morning I suffered from flu-like symptoms: runny nose and a cough.

Suit, smiling: Thank you.

That will be all, honey. *** ale offiCer: Yes, well, Matt was clearly intoxicated. I found him vomiting in the bathroom.

When I confronted him, he proceeded to drop his bottle of Amstel Light, unzip his fly and piss all over the floor. I laughed before cuffing him up against the wall.

Laughter from the crowd. fratStar 1 hands fratStar 2 a piece of paper. fratStar 2: According to the numbers I have here, Shooters II has paid as much as $5,000 per night in fines to ALE. Is this correct? ale offiCer: Yes, it is. The transaction costs of these fines has become so high we were at one point considering collecting money at the door, but we figured that would lead to a nasty round of downsizing in the office. fratStar 2: I see. *** Suit: In conclusion, Your Honor, what we have here is a group of rowdy college students upset over the realities of a strug strug-

gling economy and unwilling to accept the harsh changes they must impose on their hedonistic lifestyles. Facing mounting fines from North Carolina’s Alcohol Law Enforcement, Shooters II increased its prices to hire security that not only caught underage drinkers, but helped to stop the spread of an pandemic that could have wiped out the country.

Judge: Thank you. You certainly have lived up to your wardrobe. And now the plaintiff? fratStar 1: What we have here, Your Honor, is a case of exploitation. Our generation, suffering from social strains and intense pressures to perform at our best all the time, needs an outlet—somewhere to let loose at the end of a grueling week.

Somewhere to feel every curve of a woman’s glistening body.

We have a right to enter this place for a reasonable price and without fear of being separated from the cutie we saw at the Loop once, the one we finally got to make out with. To curtail this Guttentag-given freedom is to pull out the sweatdrenched Dionysian revelry that inconveniently supports our famously accomplished, yet under-touched student body.

Suit: Objection!

Judge: Overruled.

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O

n a sleepy Friday afternoon in the Nasher Museum of Art’s m a i n gallery, two Duke students ambled casually through oil paintings and ink drawings along the first wall of “Picasso and the Allure of Language,” a leading-edge exhibition that displays a lifetime of Picasso works underscoring his relationship with the literary community. Looking at the captions before the artwork as if they were cheat-sheets, one of the pair glanced nervously at a cell phone, mumbling, “It’s 4:26. We should go.” And like that, they were gone. A moment later, my BlackBerry vibrated in my back pocket and I paused to attend to it, breaking my concentration on “Dog and Cock,” a pre-war oil Cubist painting of a dog straining for a dead bird lying on a table.

But the older patrons who roamed the gallery, likely Durham-area residents, seemed to experience the exhibition in a far different way than students. Engaged in each work, they drank in the exhibit slowly, tilting their heads and listening intently to audio guides.

The Picasso exhibition is remarkable in both its unconventional approach to Picasso—locating him at the epicenter of a literary and artistic movement in early 20th century Paris—and the works it exhibits, which are primarily from the col-

Students who have visited the exhibition said they were surprised at how few students they noticed, unsure of an explanation for it. Tickets for the exhibition are free for Duke students, one per valid I.D., Livingston said, and the museum is located at the median of the most frequently traveled commute at the University. “This exhibition is one of the largest that has ever been available at the Nasher, and a lot of classes have tried to incorporate this exhibition into the course work,” said senior Clare Murray, who is a volunteer tour guide at the Nasher and a student in a seminar on Picasso taught by Patricia Leighten, a professor of art, art history and visual studies, who collaborated on the exhibition. “But there isn’t as much student involvement as I would have expected with such a big name…. People are proud that Duke could get a Picasso exhibit, but that hasn’t really translated into students coming to the exhibit.”

G

rown from a scholarly collaboration between curators and art historians at Yale University and Duke, the Picasso exhibition presents a kind of retrospective that examines the legendary artist’s relationships with a clique of luminaries including Gertrude Stein, Guillaume Apollinaire, Max Jacob and Georges Braque. Across the walls of the Nasher, a rich array of media—from ink drawings to illustrated and hand-written texts to oil canvases—chart Picasso’s stylistic evolution from 1900, with an emphasis on his experimental fascination with

arly research has focused on Picasso and Cubism. “It’s never that simple. Picasso was always very engaged with his historical moment. This exhibit really puts him in the rich context that his art developed in.”

That Picasso should be seen in his historical and political context is an idea Leighten has advocated in her research, and one that she said has been somewhat controversial among Picasso scholars. But when Leighten first met Susan Fisher, with whom she collaborated in designing and analyzing the exhibition, the two discovered they shared that view of the artist. “We found we were speaking the same language. I emphasize the concept of the artist in relation with his or her society, and in history as a part of history. She was already completely sympathetic to that approach,” Leighten said.

The collection of works displayed in the exhibition traveled to Duke from the Yale University Art Gallery and the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University, with the exception of two Picasso sculptures on loan from the Raymond and Patsy Nasher Collection.

“There are many important works in this collection, and it does represent every single period of Picasso’s career,” Leighten told me. “The idea that one university would have a collection that comprehensive is astonishing.” All of the works have been accumulated at Yale through alumni donations—notably from renowned collectors Walter Bareiss and John Hay Whitney— or, less frequently, through acquisitions, said Fisher, Horace W. Goldsmith Associate Curator of Modern and Contemporary

“Somehow,” says Patricia Leighten, “everyone seems to agree [the exhibit] looks better at the Nasher.” lection of the Yale University Art Gallery and have never been displayed together.

But the exhibition, still in its first month on view at Duke, has not yet seen the level of student interest that Picasso’s name alone should attract. Of 6,022 visitors to the exhibition between Aug. 21 and Sept.

8, 759 visitors—less than 13 percent— were students, including those who visit with a class, Wendy Livingston, manager of marketing and communications at the museum, wrote to me in an e-mail.

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authors and the written word.

Exhibitions typically show Picasso as influential, but not himself influenced, a standalone giant of sorts, Leighten told me. “The view for a long time has been that he is a galvanic creative force who is only interested in his own feelings and emotions and personal experiences—as if political experiences aren’t also personal experiences…. He’s for his own creative purposes isolated, but then also a leader,” said Leighten, whose schol-

Art at the Yale University Art Gallery and organizer of the exhibition. Important rarities among the exhibition include a 1905 print called “Salomé” and a small 1912 cubist canvas called “Shells on a Piano,” as well as a collaged study for “Les demoiselles d’Avignon,” one of Picasso’s most famous paintings that is now on view at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

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TOWERVIEW

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A

t an Aug. 27 panel for the exhibition hosted

by Leighten and Fisher, it was difficult to spot students in the crowd, although the theater was nearly full. Elderly women in floral cardigans populated the seating with their husbands, whose heads sometimes bowed over their chests in brief, accidental repose.

“At first I thought kids weren’t interested in art, or were intimidated by the space, or that they couldn’t necessarily connect to art,” said senior Sophia Davis, co-president of the Nasher Student Advisory Board, a group that plans studentoriented social events at the museum. “We think that students should be more involved. I’ve talked to my friends that don’t go all the time and they’ve said things like, ‘I don’t have time to go,’ or ‘I would love to, but haven’t gotten around to it.’... And that’s one of the other big philosophies of the NSAB—to get students in the door, and have them see that the Nasher is a space students can actually relax in.”

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P H OTO B Y M A D D I E L I E B E R B E R G

who sits on the board at the Nasher Museum and initially suggested the collaboration between Yale and Duke following the Nasher’s opening in 2005. Leighten was then brought on as a collaborator for the exhibition at an early phase, contributing essays to the exhibition catalogue and working with Fisher in planning and crafting analysis on the exhibition. This collaboration of art historians and curators from Yale and Duke was foundational to the exhibition, both Leighten and Fisher said. “For me, it’s just been a really incredible experience to collaborate with another university,” Fisher said. “It would have been a totally different exhibition if I had only done this at Yale.”

In adapting the exhibition to the Nasher, Leighten said Sarah Schroth, Nancy Hanks Senior Curator, preserved many of the same design features Fisher had implemented at the Yale exhibition— including the color scheme and four-part segmentation—but noted one important difference between the two installations: the show looks better at Duke.

“Somehow, everyone seems to agree that it looks better at the Nasher—even Jock Reynolds,” Leighten said. “[The Yale University Art Gallery] is a brutalist building, so its color is gray, whereas ours is much more creamy and our lighting is beautiful, so the works are illuminated in a way that’s just warmer and more welcoming.”

Davis said NSAB is planning a party in October in which the theme will be based on the exhibition. But NSAB’s efforts focus more on encouraging students to enjoy the Nasher in a social context; raising awareness about ongoing exhibitions is a secondary goal. “The NSAB has succeeded in getting people into the Nasher doors and getting them involved in the space, but I have noticed that through personal experience with friends, they think more of the restaurant and the social area than a museum for artwork,” Murray told me.

For students majoring in art history, or participating in the Picasso seminar Leighten leads, awareness of the exhibition is not an issue. But for others, the exhibition may need to be accompanied with heavy, student-targeted marketing to penetrate their agendas.

“The people I’ve talked to about the exhibition are either art history majors and already know that it’s there, or they don’t know about art and don’t know that it’s there,” said senior Ellie Lipsky, who is also enrolled in the Picasso seminar.

“It’s because it’s not part of [students’] normal schedules, that it’s just one of the other hundred things Duke offers that they don’t take advantage of,” Murray said.

Livingston said the museum has already raised awareness of the exhibit in distributing Picasso event postcards to the Bryan Center and academic departments around campus, and has displayed five large Picasso banners on the street and building itself. Upcoming marketing includes newspaper and magazine ads and Picasso-related Facebook events, Livingston noted. “The museum is working to attract Duke students to the exhibition,” she said.

And the exhibition should hold appeal for today’s student, once they get through the museum’s doors. That the body of

work is modern art means each work is open to interpretation, manipulation and revision—the student has a chance for intellectual engagement, even without any pre-existing knowledge of the artist.

There is a distilled bohemian spirit that runs through the exhibit, too, smacking of youth and experimentation.

Among art history students at Duke and at Yale, Leighten and Fisher said the responses to the exhibition had been immediate and enthusiastic.

“The students that I know at Yale all seemed very excited that it was this new take on Picasso, a different look at him,” Fisher said. “They thought Picasso was cool, I think he seemed very relevant to them. The relationship of text and image, the complications between the two, and the way that he blurs lines between writing and drawing and painting intrigued them.”

After all, the idea itself for the exhibition sprung from students’ mouths—Fisher said a group of students in her seminar at Yale, credited in the exhibition’s catalogue, were the first to fixate on Picasso’s relationship with the literary community in the early 20th century. “I taught an undergraduate seminar in 2006, and it was at the same time that I was going through the Picasso materials,” Fisher said. “I was struck by how a number of them actually discussed language in their papers. It seemed to be a topic that people were interested in. I was thinking about it, and the students were, as well.”

It is apparent that “Picasso and the Allure of Language” has met with the early success it deserves in attracting locals and those students most interested in Picasso’s work to the show. But what remains to be seen is whether the show’s language is alluring enough to draw, Siren-like, even the most art-apathetic of students to the Nasher’s grounds.

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TOWERVIEW

21

V

ictor Wakefield has a simple business card.

The front is plain, with his name and title— “Recruitment Director”—written in a basic font, followed by the standard contact information. For someone like a magazine reporter who has amassed a small Rolodex of business cards over the years, there appears to be nothing remarkable about this particular one.

But when you turn it over, in bold font is written, “One day, all children in this nation will have the opportunity to attain an excellent education.”

Ambitious, to be sure. This credo makes sense, however, since for the past two years Wakefield has taught 5th and 6th graders in Gary, Ind. as a corps member in the Teach for America.

Now, after finishing his commitment in the classroom, he is in charge of recruit-

11 percent of Duke’ Since TFA’s incep Duke grads have b 30 Duke graduates making it the single the sec

TEACHING THE EDUCATED A STUDY IN TEACH FOR AMERICA

BY CHRISTINE HALL

ment for the program on Duke’s campus.

Turns out, TFA was the top employer of Duke’s graduating seniors last year: 11 percent went on to teach in a classroom as a TFA corps member. (Take that, Wall Street.) But he had more facts and figures to truly explain the extent and impact of the program. Last year, Duke was also ranked ninth among medium-sized colleges and universities to contribute seniors to the corps. And historically, Wakefield added, more than 300 Duke graduates have given two years to TFA. But even though TFA has been the top employer at Duke for three years running, the number of grads every year that enter the classroom has decreased.

“Interest has been pretty constant in terms of the number of applications,” Wakefield said, noting that last year’s application pool was bigger than ever. “That said, Teach For America has always had a pretty high bar for who is accepted. So one of my goals this year is to make sure I’m sitting down with the top leaders on campus and the highest achievers so we

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can bring that number back up.”

Which he has been doing even in the first few weeks of the semester. Already he can pinpoint why Duke has such a high rate of alumni entering the TFA corps.

“From my own observations, I believe that Duke has contributed so many grads to the corps for two reasons in particular,” he said. “The first is that Duke always has a very rigorous academic program that challenges students to achieve at a high level. Secondly, Duke seems to have an enthusiasm for both leadership and for public service. I’ve noticed that many Duke students are involved in multiple student organizations, multiple academic or scholarship programs, many of which are also devoted to public service.”

This could be said, however, for any top-tiered academic institution. What’s unique about Duke, Wakefield said, is that there are so many opportunities throughout the University that allow students the chance to give back. Again, an emphasis on service is par for the course, but no school really matches DukeEngage, rolled

out just two years ago and already a staple of students’ summers. And although the opportunities on campus to make a national—or even global—impact through service have increased, Wakefield said he doesn’t think this has deterred students from considering TFA. “It’s intuitive to think that the efforts go hand-in-hand and help each other,” he said. “It opens the eyes of students to see what it means to make a tangible impact on society. These kind of programs, what they do is they ignite an interest and passion in the minds of Duke students, who then see Teach for America as a very tangible way to enter or to continue making systemic change.”

W

akefield said he always had a clear understanding of half of TFA’s mission—that is, placing teachers in underserved schools in an attempt to close the nation’s achievement gap. “What I didn’t understand as fully as I do now is the second part of

’s Class of 2009 applied to TFA. ption in 1990, more than 300 been part of the organization. became part of the 2009 corps, largest employer of seniors for cond straight year.

TFA’s mission, which is essentially—from my understanding and interpretation— that we will have a movement of program alumni, who have taught successfully, working to lead society from all sectors with the hope and mission of closing the achievement gap and working for educational equality.”

This two-fold mission was further explained to me by Erin Oschwald, the executive director for TFA in the Eastern North Carolina region. Like every staff member with whom I spoke, she had, at one point, taught for two years in an underachieving school district. After graduating from Wake Forest, she worked in a rural North Carolina high school. And now she works to support teachers and help establish relationships with different school districts across the state.

Though not every TFA teacher continues his career in the classroom, Oschwald says that the program aims to give its members hands-on experience with the achievement gap so that they better know how to address the problem in their future professions.

Kerry Donahue is one of those who chose continue her education post-Teach

for America. As a recent graduate of the College of the Holy Cross—a Jesuit liberal-arts school in Worcester, Mass.—she requested to be placed in a rural school in Eastern North Carolina. And although she had applied to the program to give back and do something where her own achievement was not the focus, she explained that nothing could have prepared her for her first day on the job.

“During my fourth period I had an out-of-body experience as I watched one of my students stand on his desk as I struggled to run an icebreaker for the class. Feeling helpless, I wanted to be anywhere but there,” she told me. “That afternoon I sat at my computer and I seriously questioned my own ability to control a class and wondered what exactly I was doing pretending to be a teacher in North Carolina.”

B

ut corps members aren’t really pretending. They are employed by the districts in which they are placed and they function as teachers after only a summer’s worth of training. The effectiveness of TFA’s strategy—place relatively green teachers in the classroom for just two

years—has both its passionate advocates and fervent critics. In 2008, the Urban Institute released a study conducted in North Carolina that concluded, following five years of statistical research, that “TFA teachers are more effective, as measured by student exam performance, than traditional teachers.” Extensive statistical data may tout TFA’s success, but on a personal level, the program’s critics attempt to combat such optimism with anecdotes that detail more negative experiences.

Donahue, for one, chose to leave the classroom behind. Still, she says that her temporary time with TFA has permanently influenced her professional interests.

“There is no doubt that if it were not for TFA I would not be so dedicated to education policy issues,” she explained. “As a teacher, I found that I could make a big difference in the lives of my students. I taught a course that was required for graduation in North Carolina so it was extremely important to me and to them that they pass the end-of-course test and go on to graduate high school. I was the key lever in whether or not they passed.”

And it’s that type of impact—coupled with the last three years of history and a dry well of finance and consulting jobs— that make it likely that Wakefield will have another sizable recruitment class from Duke this year.

Since the program’s inception in 1990, the corp size in Eastern North Carolina, and nationwide, has increased rapidly, and TFA projects that 225 teachers will be entering classrooms in the area for the next school year. The program is just as intense as it is rewarding, Donahue af affirmed before leaving advice for corps members-in-the-making.

“If you are applying to Teach For America, be ready for personal sacrifice,” she said. “It will hit you hard on your first day in the classroom, that the children sitting in front of you are totally dependent on you. That realization can be overwhelming—it was for me—but, more importantly, it is motivating. You have the chance to change their lives.

Every child that walks in your classroom represents an opportunity to break down the negative effects of the achievement gap in America.”

Sounds like something that could go on a business card.

“That afternoon I sat at my computer and I seriously questioned my own ability to control a class and wondered what exactly I was doing pretending to be a teacher in North Carolina.”

TOWERVIEW

23

rearview mirror David Cutcliffe leads the Blue Devil Walk before Duke’s f irst home game of the season Sept. 5 against Richmond.

LARSA AL-OMAISHI

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rearview mirror

Two children take in Sweet Honey in the Rock’s free a capella concert in the Sarah P. Duke Gardens Aug. 30. The concert drew more than 5,000 spectators to kick off a series celebrating the Gardens’ 75th birthday.

A DR I V I T MUK HER JEE

TOWERVIEW

27

rearview mirror

Senior quarterback Thaddeus Lewis (left) huddles with sophomore wideout Johnny Williams on the sidelines of Duke’s season opener Sept. 5.

COURT NE Y D OU GL A S

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29

roadside wisdom

JOHN BROWN

AGE: 39 JAZZ PROGRAM DIRECTOR, MUSIC PROFESSOR He’s a double bassist trained in classical and jazz music and he’s played with Wynton Marsalis, but the namesake of the John Brown Quin Quin-tet is best-known here as the the man who heads Jazz at the Mary Lou every Wednesday.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

To love and not be loved in return.

What is your idea of earthly happiness?

To find purpose, commit to it, and take the steps to fulfill it.

R E A D M O R E O F B R O W N ’ S R E S P O N S E S O N T H E N E W TO W E R V I E W O N L I N E

P H OTO CO U R T E S Y C H R I S TO P H E R F E R R E R

To what faults do you feel most indulgent?

The simple pleasures of life.

30

Your favorite musician?

Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Ray Brown.

What is your favorite occupation?

Any one that might involve reaching and moving someone else. Also, anything involving education. Showing light to others is among the most valuable of gifts and responsibilities.

What would you have liked to be?

The person God intends me to be.

What is your principle defect?

My sometimes utter disregard of moderation.

What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?

To know life without love or to live life with a closed mind.

What would you like to be?

Someone who never spent one moment as someone he is not.

TOWERVIEW

What is your favorite bird?

Any bird that sings.

Who are your favorite composers?

Duke Ellington, Brahms, Miles Davis, Shostakovitch.

Who are your favorite names?

Saying J o h n would be a bit obvious, though it is true. Any name that has meaning—perhaps meaning as made by the person who bears it, I guess.

What natural gift would you most like to possess?

Being slow to anger.

What is your motto?

When you enter this world, you cry and the world rejoices. Live your life so that when you leave this world, it cries and you rejoice.

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