LINE 2015-16 by LINE Art Review Magazine

LINE art review

MISSION STATEMENT:

LINE Art Review Magazine is a student-run publication at Skidmore College that creatively and analytically reviews and responds to art on campus in order to highlight the diverse creativity of the Skidmore Community.

WHO WE ARE:

Skidmore students plan an integral role in every aspect of LINE from the design concept to the writing and editing. We review individual works of art and exhibits by both student and professional artists. these works may be presented in the Tang Teaching Museum, the Schick Art Gallery, Case Gallery, Howe-Rounds Gallery, or in individual unaffiliated spaces around campus. LINE explores and presents all forms of art and features a variety of artistic media. LINE aims to spark discussion about different styles of art and the creative process. In the spirit of LINE’s inclusive nature, we accept writing and art submissions from studnts with a range of majors and backgrounds. We hope to encourage people to create their own art and think critically about artworks they encounter.

Editor’s NOTE:

College campuses are incubators of creativity, intellectual pursuit, and personal growth: transformative spaces that offer introspection for inhabitants. Each year, this space precipitates magical changes to identities in the process of being shaped and molded like clay to a final product of adulthood. In many ways the institution of college is an art within itself. Each student adds to the collective energy with newfound independence. LINE seeks to exemplify that community. As a completely student-run organization from start to finish, we serve as the communication base between the various spaces of art exhibitions on campus and the student body. With a truly diverse array of visual stimulation on display throughout the year, we are extremely proud to have the oppurtunity to share it again with all of our readers. In person or in print, art never ceases to amaze and we hope this year’s magazine is able to transcribe the incredible talent that was on display at Skidmore College. 4

LINE art review

© 2016 Skidmore College 815 North Broadway Saratoga Springs, NY 12866 President Allison Gretchko ‘17 Daniel Kapp ‘17 Managing Editor Emma Fritschel ‘19 Design Directors Marion Cox ‘16 Kai Inaba ‘16 Liv Fidlar ‘19 Event Planners Emma Fritschel ‘19 Evelyn Wang ‘19 Photography Director Sadie Saltzman ‘19 Treasurer Olivia Skowronski ‘18 Special Thanks The Tang Museum The Schick Art Gallery Skidmore Office Services Skidmore Catering Megan Hyde Rebecca Shepard Sarah Miller Rachel Seligman Alicia Graziano ‘16

CONTENTS 4 4 4

Mission Statement Credits Editor’s Note

FEATURES 6

Idiot Art! Leila Farrer ‘16

Punctuating Profundity Hannah Wilson ‘18

The Artists of Dana

The Machine for Everything Evian Pan ‘17

Krystal Krunch’s Intuitive Inspiration Will Kaplan ‘17

Pretty is Boring Liv Fidler ‘19

San Fermin Evelyn Wang ‘19

A Language Through Color Sadie Saltzman ‘19 & Ilie Lichenstein ‘19

Element Fashion Show Emma Fritschel ‘19

Deep Deep Body Glitter Daniel Kapp ‘17

Student Submissions

Michelangelos with Microscopes

Shadman Shome ‘17

Photo by Leila Farrer 6

IDIOT art! By Leila Farrer Idiot Art puzzles me. How can three or four curved and looping lines create a human being with a range of deep emotions and a past? When I examine Jonah Jablons’ figure drawings at his show in the Case Gallery, I find real people within his quick sketches. It is not hard to get lost in a face or body position. Jablons shows a skill in creating depth out of effortless minimalism. A cursory glance at the work in Idiot Art might mislead the viewer into believing that Jablons is mass-producing drawings of naked people in compromising situations. Turning the gallery into his temporary studio, his methods are simple and brief. In one corner of the small room his table, playfully titled in big block letters, “Jonah’s Workspace!” is littered with a variety of papers, pens, and paints. Here he creates smaller works, many the size of an index card, and some duplicates of the handmade books on display. On the floor he tapes sheets of square brown butcher paper together, creating a canvas with no pretentions. He tacks this to the wall and gets to work with a thick black marker, his hand swooping above his head and down below his knees, outlining two monumental figures shown from the shoulders up, each reaching out picking the other’s nose. Within ten minutes he has finished the drawing. I stood and watched this entire process, amazed at the end result. I’m glad I caught Jablons at work in the gallery—if I hadn’t I might have thought his work was rehearsed. Having witnessed his sponta7

neity and creativity, I appreciate the process as well as the product. The figures are completely goofy with big bulbous noses, gaping mouths, closed eyes, and fluffy tufts of hair. I can’t help but chuckle at all of the Idiot Art collection. But as cartoonish as they are, somehow they seem to be infused with life. I can imagine the sounds the people might be making (a kind of drone) or the thoughts they might be thinking (“I am completely content in this moment”). It is the subtleties in the way the lines curve, and Jablons’ confidence in his style, that allow the viewer to pick up on the work’s movement and mood. I am particularly drawn to the smaller works placed in eye-level clusters around the gallery.

Photo by Leila Farrer

“Jablons does not hold back on examining the body in its most natural state.” Most of these are rather crude: the figures are nude and engaged in activities that range from sex to tennis to using the toilet. Some of them also include a witty caption, either creating humor or recognizing seriousness. Jablons does not hold back on examining the body in its most natural state. What make his easy-going style successful is that it makes no attempt to idealize the male or female physique. The figures don’t look quite right with their lumpy legs and clumsy fingers, but they do look relaxed and familiar. It’s refreshing. In the faces I find expressions that I recognize—love, ecstasy, pain, disappointment, confusion. It is clear that Jablons has created a deeply personal collection addressing what he believes to be the human condition. His artistic voice shows a strong interest in intimate everyday activities that are at once highly individual and universal. In three or four lines, he creates personalities captured in a snapshot of life. Each figure has come from somewhere, each is paused in a moment of pure life, and each will be moving on as if I had never glimpsed them at all.

Photo by Sadie Saltzman

PUNCTUATING PROFUNDITY By Hannah Wilson Photos Courtesy of the Schick Art Gallery

Peeking through the doors of the Schick gallery, this year’s student exhibition could seem intimidating. The quality of the artwork is impressive, not only for college students, but for all artists. The exhibit features a wide array of mediums; from ceramic sculptures to graphite drawings to oil paintings to photography. Yet the show is united by its careful curation, which unites all pieces under an overarching theme.

Paranoia by Lei Jin

Babydolls by Sonya Thorne 10

“The messages conveyed in each piece can seem weighty, but the exhibition conveys its thoughts without being too heavy-handed.” Upon first entering the gallery space, Camilla Busby’s diptych Tumble looms over the space on the far wall, while Savan DeSouza’s sculpture The Cobra’s Parasol centers the exhibit. Lei Jin’s sculpture Paranoia sits towards the back, striking gallery goers with its sinister energy. The messages conveyed in each piece can seem weighty, but the exhibition conveys its thoughts without being too heavy handed. Certain pieces add a humorous whimsy to an otherwise ominous overtone. For example, Nicholas Solomon’s title for his copper and brass hinged box, “Almost a Box” adds a perfect playfulness. With a high volume of student work submitted, guest curator Doug Dreishpoon of the Albert Knox Gallery had many difficult decisions to make. He wrote in his curator’s statement, “Any idea, even the most conceptual, is only as good as its execution.” This emphasis on quality is evident even at first glance. When they say Skidmore students are talented, you need look no further than this exhibit to verify that statement.

Photo by Shadman Shome

The Artists of Dana: Michelangelos with Microscopes By Shadman Shome On a brisk December evening, I found myself approaching the corner of Spring St. with Wenhui Zao—a second year Biology student. Wenhui has attended various science lectures and research symposiums, and previously presented a poster on his BIO105 lab work. This time however, Wenhui was in charge of presenting his research work beyond the scope of science. Wenhui, along with other talented Biology students, were the featured artists

in the “Under the Microscope: Biology and Art” exhibit at the Saratoga Spring Street Gallery. The Spring Street Gallery is an award-winning space that has continually promoted public engagement in art and creativity. Now thanks to Skidmore’s own Biologist and professor, Dr. Abby Grace Drake, the gallery has opted to be decorated with a tropical palette of molecular still-life captured with advanced microscopy. Upon entrance, one is imme 11

Photo by Shadman Shome

embryos, and the highlighted cell wall of a Brassica plant. With larger frames, one could meticulously observe the various color schemes behind the complicated structural arrangement of the organisms. Fortunately, every visitor in the opening reception also had access to program notes that detailed the science behind each image. This would prove useful for one that is genuinely interested in the science behind the art. For instance, one wouldn’t immediately realize that a beautiful 3D image of a pink shell was actually an organism, Homotrema, consuming a captured brine shrimp. In addition to the program notes, any visitor during the opening reception also had the opportunity to meet the scientists behind the artwork and further inquire into their research. Thus, I was lucky enough to interview Wenhui and Perri Keehn, a third year Biology student, over a glass of complimentary wine. I was particularly intrigued behind the balance of art and science and what this convergence of clashing fields meant to each of the scientists.

“For Instance, one wouldn’t immediately realize that a beautiful 3D image of a pink shell was acually and organism, Homotrema, consuming a captured brine shrimp.” Photo by Shadman Shome

diately entranced into a hallway fittingly compact for colorful frames of molecular nature. The collection of fluorescent cell walls, aquatic amoebas, and larva radiantly bounce off the walls. One’s peripheral vision was teased with everything from single-celled marine organisms to a few refurbished microscopic mysteries captured by Skidmore scientists in the 1950’s. The compact hallway lead into the much wider gallery inside, where one was presented with 3x3 grids of single-celled green algae, Zebrafish 12

“Art has to have a back story of science— there’s a lot of structure in a world of chaos and being a scientist helps you appreciate that.,” stated Wenhui. Clearly, appreciating an aesthetic presentation compliments a scientist’s effort to observe molecular functions. Perri stated, “Artistic is the way that I am with microscopy, sometimes as a Bviology major your classes detract you away from practicing art, but that doesn’t limit your appreciation of aesthetic beauty. If anything, it pushes you to create an identity balancing art and science.” This exhibit goes to show that we are in an institution where our peers continually push creativity to find a balance in varying interests.

the machine for everything

By Evian Pan

Photos courtesy of the Tang Perhaps no one can accurately define or thoroughly explain what Machine Project is. The faces of my fellow visitors in the tour group appeared so puzzled that it confirmed myself being a lame docent. Indeed, the LA-based art organization intrigued Skidmore and the surrounding community with its infinite boundary of themes for activities. From the opening mind-reading workshop conducted by artist duo Krystal Krunch to Hana van der Kolk ’00 leading the culminating dance party “deepdeepbodygl!tter”, the two-month residency of Machine Project brought the campus’ avant-garde spirit to a boil. A Skidmore studio art alumnus, Mark Allen ’93 employs his broad, cross-disciplinary interests into founding and developing Machine Project. He describes the art space as, “collaborating with artists, thinkers and local communities to produce non-commercial projects that investigate art, performance, technology, science, music, literature and new ideas for creative engagement.” Over the past ten years, Machine Project has generated hundreds of events and workshops at its Los Angeles location, and several residency series in art institutions across the country. In the Fall of 2015, Machine Project – The Platinum Collection (Live by Special Request) orchestrated Tang-customized activities echoing the museum’s 15th anniversary. Among the events, Krystal Krunch mind-read in another core exhibition entitled Affinity Atlas, and Joshua Beckman led a poetry composition workshop in response to the museum’s landscape and architecture. Furthermore, Machine Project reinforced the Tang’s interdisciplinary mission and teaching ethos. Music

enthusiasts in professor Liz Macy’s class participated in “A Reader Chorus,” a group reading performance, while “Music for Mineral Springs” joined artist Chris Kallmyer and professor Adam Tinkle’s class called “Community Engagement, Education, and the Arts” to host a gathering for electric music and tasting of minerals collected from the city of springs. Plus other theatrical works that are always welcomed by performance lovers, Machine Project both captivated regular Tang-goers and allured new visitors with it’s continuous liberty in mingling with new ideas. The ornamental gallery installation, meanwhile, served as more than a backdrop for the events. The triangle wall paint and curved carpet enclosed a fantasy space while beanbag chairs and rotary phones staged for random poetry call-ins added to the playfulness. A full-size replica of the theater stage in Los Angeles with vintage theater seats declared Machine Project’s performative character. To reflect the organization’s career, a platinum collection of posters designed for past events was spread on the gallery back walls, resembling a college dorm layout and further highlighting a sense of vitality. Mark Allen calls the Tang project “Machine’s very first not-a-retrospective,” due t o this informal manner that has been carried throughout Machine Project’s history of artist-audience interaction. Here, the indefinable psyche of Machine Project resonated with the Tang’s interdisciplinary aim. The semester-long collaboration between the two unique institutions certainly energized the arts domain on campus and extended both sides’ educational possibility, and eventually let us wonder what both of them can do and in the future will do. 13

Krystal Krunch’s I Intuitive Inspiration

Photos Courtesy of the Tang

By Will Kaplan When we step into an elevator, we are—for the most part—accustomed to awkward, personal-space-invading experiences; the never-ending paranoia of more elevator-goers joining us in the close quarters; and most notably, the wretched and insipid elevator music that our society has come to despise. The elevator in the Tang Teaching Museum toys with our perceptions of what elevator music should be with its constantly running sound installation. In October 2013, the Tang’s elevator’s music—to use the term “music” very loosely—was reminiscent of some form of extra-terrestrial communication. In simpler terms, it sounded almost like mic-check before a concert: highly electronic with no words or noticeable patterns. The general size (enormous) and the futuristic, metallic atmosphere of the elevator itself 14

gave a complimentary vibe to the music—one of emptiness and mystery. My experience in the quick elevator ride up one floor was very self-reflective. This reaction, I believe, can be attributed to my unfamiliarity with such sound conglomerations and my comparative smallness to the size of the elevator. It was a 20-second assent unlike any I have taken before, one that evoked a bizarre sense of isolation in me. I can’t help but re-reflect as I type, remembering the utterly unique experience I had in the Tang’s elevator and in every elevator I’ve taken since. This exhibit was shockingly thought provoking; every student should visit it at least once.

This piece (one of a series of elevator music installation pieces at the Tang) celebrates the 100th anniversary of Luigi Russolo’s ground breaking musical experimentation. In his 1913 manifesto, entitled L’Art dei Rumori or The Art of Noise, Russolo reimagines traditional concepts of music and challenges them with his unique mix of everyday noises from the modern world. Russolo was also a leader in the Futurism movement, which strived

The two-month residency of Machine Project brought the campus’ avant-garde spirit to a boil. to reject traditional ideas in the field of art and create something he expected to see in the future. For Russolo, this meant replicating sounds like roars, whistles, screeches in harmony with one another. Although Russolo’s ideas were deemed futuristic 100 years ago, it’s clear that we’re still waiting for them to become familiar. By playing Russolo’s music over the few months that this piece occupied the Tang’s elevator, the curators were able to mimic its futuristic vibe and make it work cohesively with the elevator’s design. The interior was entirely chrome and strangely resembled what the inside of a UFO might look like. The mirrored décor helped the exhibit focus even more on the self-reflective properties it may inflict on its participant. No matter which way one turns, even towards the ceiling, it’s impossible to escape one’s reflection in the clean metal. This, despite its horror-movie-esque quality, was sort of mystifying in a wonderful way. The peculiarity started with the seemingly normal and bland idea of an elevator. When it slid open, I had no idea what I was in for, so my self-reflection started with my immediate attempt to understand what exactly was happening. Although it took me only a few milliseconds to mosey over to the

information booklet hooked next to the door, I had to take a few more rides in order to fully grasp and recognize what effect it had on me. Taking a step back now, I feel as if the strangeness of the music forced me to notice the normalcy of sounds I hear daily. If anything, my elevator ride has made me think more presently and observe more keenly what takes place every day. I’ve truly had to rethink what I consider normal.

K K 15

PRETTY

RING BORI

By Liv Fidler Photos by Grace Gulick

“Wanna see something cool?” Emma asks, eyes wide, taking my arm. One aluminum-cased light is pointed at her silkscreen, which is covered in green emulsion-paint. Emma turns the light off, picks up the silkscreen and hurries to the communal kitchen. She’s creating original and tangible textiles, right next to leftover shaved ginger root left at the sink by a previous space user. All the while, she holds her silkscreen as it washes clean under a heavy stream of sink water. Her setup is far from a studio but that doesn’t seem to be any hindrance toward her artistry. The green fades away and the print is no longer opaque. We head back to her room and she rifles through her cramped closet space. She smiles as she holds the dress up for me after mere seconds of searching, “I saw this color and I loved it. This is kind of what inspired the whole thing.” And by “thing” she means her own line of original de-signs, EKF Clothing. She’s been sewing and making her own clothes for over ten years, but this collection (defined largely by this shrill hue) is a fairly new project. The dress she’s picked is shift-style, boxy, with three rows of three-dimensional patches lined vertically up its front. Each patch has a yellow box within it, but the color is much more than just “yellow” or “lime green.” It’s uncomfortable to look at. Emma has a clear, brash desire to mess with the normal convic-tions of current trends. The question of whether or not it works for her and her brand is debata-ble; not everyone is as comfortable with said dissent as she clearly is. Regardless, when one of her 16

roommates wore this dress to her classes one day, she says that she felt unique, like she was making a statement without saying a word. “It’s called ‘sulphur’ and it’s such an unnatural color,” she says. ay paired it with this grey to make it jarring and disturbing when people saw the two together.” Jarring—a word that comes to mind when looking through her collection—full of harsh colors that don’t quite go together, outlandish caricatures, jagged shapes and bright white lines. “I feel like so many things have been done and seen in fashion already that I don’t necessarily like to make things, like, pretty anymore.” She embraces this outside of her textiles, even in the tips of her hair; they’re bleached a gritty yellow called “Electric Banana,” setting her off as an independent.

Emma stands out on campus for not following the usual artistic and bohemian way of dressing. She wears semi-androgynous clothes most of the time. When she’s not wearing her own collection (a rare sight), she’s in collected and sharp clothes like a wool coat with light orange lining, additionally swaddled from chest-to-chin in a chunky-knit circle scarf that she knitted herself. I accompanied her on a trip to sew in the art studio one evening, where others were haphazardly forcing paint strokes for homework they forgot to finish. The fluorescent lights flicker quietly from time to time and everyone else is dreary-eyed, noticeably unenthused to be there. Meanwhile, she bounces around the room, rotating throughout her three “stations” as she works. I ask her what her machine is called as she leans over a cutting table, “Oh, that’s Sabrina,” she replies, without missing a beat. I laugh, note it, and clarify what my actual question was. “My bad! She’s a four-thread serger,” she tells me continuing on to explain her use for stretch fabrics and how she finishes the edges without leaving them raw. Emma is not technically supposed to be using sewing machines or sergers in the studio, as she’s been told by her Drawing professor numerous times. Within and without her textiles, she’s mildly breaking the rules; something un-doubtedly important that many artists can’t bring themselves to do. As we talk, she’s quickly pinning a panel of fabric onto the pullover she’s making; patterned with navy and white brush strokes juxtaposed with the harshness of a singular strip of navy on the chest. “What do you think about the placement of this?” she asks, and I quickly assure her that the panel is perfect, consistent with EKF Clothing’s aesthetic. This pleases her, and she continues to meticulously work back and forth from the cutting table to pinning to sewing. This isn’t even for herself, she reveals, it’s for a friend who liked the fabric. But she spends hours hunched over measuring and is happy to do so, “It’s all in the interest of getting my shit out there.” 17

One piece stands out among the rest in Emma’s line, and its influence is clear as the original print itself (made into the dress) that hangs stably above her bed. “Fashion Faces” is a mon-ochromatic, stencil-like shift dress layered with colored-details—sulphur-green sunglasses, or-ange hoop earrings and magenta hair—over the nine, repeated faces of fashion greats like Michael Kors, Donatella Versace and Karl Lagerfeld. She’s anxious to talk about this design, poised yet giddy with quiet anticipation, “I kind of wanted the message to be ironic in the sense that even though I love clothes and love fashion and I know I want to be part of the fashion in-dustry, I also acknowledge that clothes aren’t the world and aren’t going to change the world. I feel like a lot of the designers in the high fashion world—Versace, Gucci and “I ask her what her machine is called as she leans over stuff—think highly of themselves and everyone thinks highly of them, a cutting table, ‘Oh, that’s Sabrina,’ she replies, without when really they’re just making clothes and I just want to bring peo- missing a beat.” ple back to reality. And so I thought it’d be ironic that they’d be important enough to be on someone’s shirt; I’m kind of making fun of that.” There’s an interesting mix in play of her wanting to design and distribute clothes in a mom-and-pop way, against the usual commercial grain, and her talking about things like the importance of getting her work out there. Antithetical for a budding designer, but very human; her goal is hard to grasp. I push her to talk about herself and her work in the context of this all, as she feels uncomfortable gloating. This all shifts as EKF’s mission statement flies out of her lips as if through a trumpet; loud, brassy, and imposing. “What I want to do with my clothes is kind of start a revolution with changing the way that people shop and buy clothes for themselves and others. I’ve been very turned off by shopping for the past year, and I’ve had this moment of realism of the shopping world. I haven’t shopped in brand name stores for forever; I think it’s such an impersonal way to buy your clothes and I think that clothes should be treated with more re18

spect. I think that our closets should be more special to us and we should have really really well-made clothing that we treat well and that’ll last us a long time. That’s going to be better for producing less waste in the world, and I think it makes you a happier person in life.” Emma breaks out into a light laugh, partly at herself and partly because I smugly grin at her previous comment. She circles back to herself, happy with her organic train of thought and happy for the un-interrupted observation. “So what I want to do with my line, my brand, is just promote that to people. I won’t make that much money, but I want to make more one of a kind pieces that people are really going to appreciate. I want to have more of a personal relationship with my customers, I think that one of the saddest things about going into chain stores or anything is that the custom-er service is absolutely horrible and I have recognized over the years that people really appreci-ate seeing the face of the creator. I think that opens a lot of opportunities for

stories and connec-tions with people. They can go around and wear that shirt that I made for them, and people will notice it because it’ll look different and that will spark up a conversation between those people. I think that’s absolutely beautiful and I’d love to be a catalyst for more, you know, socializing with people in the world.” We have yet to see if her disaffection to current fashion is something she’ll retain. Or, reversely, if like many radically minded people before her, she’ll be consumed by the industry. But her pieces aren’t highly stylized for shock value or misplaced adolescent re-bellion. Emma gets through her days through deeply held artistic conviction and the value of making people think more about what they wear and what they say and how they’re going to change things. She’s a warm soul with deadpan jokes and cares most about the people who will end up in her clothes, and the things these people will do in her clothes, not the designs themselves.

San Fermin By Evelyn Wang My first time hearing about San Fermin, an eight-piece band hailing from Brooklyn, was when Shelley Curran, the Zankel events manager, came to a Student Entertainment Committee meeting to encourage members to raise awareness for the event. As an incoming freshman I was eager to get involved in the music performance scene here at Skidmore, and at the time I was unaware of how impressed I’d be by Skidmore’s efforts and accomplishments in bringing such great musical artists to campus.

San Fermin is described as “baroque-pop”, creating enticing sounds ranging from anthemic to euphoric, such as “Sonsick,” a catchy fanfare with a rousing brass intro, and “Methuselah,” a melancholy acoustic theme. Their lyrics, courtesy of songwriter and lead member Ellis Ludwig-Leone, follow the themes of nostalgia, youth, growing up, heartbreak, and the sweeping emotions and anxieties inside all of us. What strikes me, and what is one of the reasons for San Fermin being one of my favorite bands, is not only that these themes are so poetically explored, but also that their music

Photo by Max Helburn

does not let itself fall under the umbrella category of “sad music.” The ensemble can seamlessly transition from its beautiful croonings exhibited in “Oh Darling” to lively anthems like “Jackrabbit.” For example, when listening to “Sonsick,” one is usually caught up in the pop-like energy of the composition, but the lyrics describe deep insecurities and the sting that comes with losing innocence while growing up. The very musical energy that San Fermin gives off is what made the concert so great.

I was unsure at first about San Fermin performing in the Zankel Theater. Their lively alternative rock didn’t seem to match up with a seated performance. The crowd starting piling in, with most sitting near the front. The very presence of eight members on stage created an exciting environment. With every song, I felt more and more entranced. Allen Tate’s deep and smooth tone blended with Charlene Kaye’s harmonious and soulful voice. With each song, I felt the energy rising in the hall and I definitely felt the urge to stand up

Photo by Max Helburn and dance, but because of the seating everyone remained tame. Closer to the end of the concert, one audience member started running up and down the

Their lyrics, courtesy of songwriter and lead member Ellis Ludwig-Leone, follow the themes of nostalgia, youth, growing up, heartbreak, and the sweeping emotions and anxieties inside all of us. hall urging the crowd to get up and dance without hesitation, soon we all stood up and started cheering and dancing. The band received the crowd’s energy positively and it felt like a complete success. San Fermin finished off with a cover of “Heart in a Cage” by The Strokes, which topped everything off perfectly.

Photo by Max Helburn

A Language Through Color By Sadie Saltzman & Ilie Lichenstein

Photos Courtesy of the Tang

Walking into Alma Thomas’ exhibit is like no other. Her use of vibrant color draws the viewer in. This vitality gives off a special energy, despite the fact that there aren’t realistic depictions of people or objects in most of the paintings. Thomas is one of the most renowned artists of her time. She’s well-known for her use of pattern, rhythm and color within her art. When walking into the exhibit you’re presented with her earlier work. As you move throughout the space, you progressively see her style grow and change with her work over time. Thomas focuses on using negative space to send her message. This creates a challenge for the viewer in understanding each piece. Her craft is clearly shown through the visibility of her brush strokes. You can see where she made decisions for the painting directly on the canvas, which is a really interesting element of her work. Some of Thomas’ earliest stand-alone pieces touch on important points in history, depicting moments and dates that held great meaning to the time period. Her paintings about historical occurrences are still important because they reveal a true understanding of feelings behind these parts of history, as well as relate to current racial movements today. For example, “March on Washington, 1964” is largely important to the Civil Rights Movement. The painting itself is the depiction of the walk that took place in Washington D.C. It is considered to be one of the largest political rallies for human rights in United States history and was also the rally at which Martin Luther King Junior gave his extremely famous “I Have a Dream” speech. This walk was in support 23

of ending segregation and racism and bringing true racial equality to the country as well as the world. This painting could be seen today and be easily mistaken for a rally in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. These paintings appear to be timeless and have a real sense of advocating for action. The paintings, while similar in spirit, each obtain their own captivating features. The two paintings hung side by side towards the end of the exhibit, “Cherry Blossom Symphony 1973” and “Arboretum Presents White Dogwood 1972”, have 24

a similar relationship to nature. The paintings have big white marks cluttering over a solid background, one in a pinkish red while the other in a deep blue, which moves the eye all around the canvas giving no definite focal point. The two pieces as a set captures an essence of vibrant ebullience. Hung side by side they are even more stunning and compelling than if they were on their own.

Element fashion show

By Emma Fritschel

Images Courtesy of Reece Robinson

The 2015 Fall Element Fashion Show exhibited the work of five extremely creative Skidmore students and the power of the individual voice that the art of fashion offers. Goa Zhu ’19 shocked us all with her breath-taking lingerie designs and her boldness on the runway. Goa, who has a very poised and chic style, has a passion for women’s underwear with delicate fabric and simple details. She especially admires the aesthetic appeal of French lingerie. Her runway look consisted of a cream-colored silk plunging bra with black lace details and a black garter with stockings, all revealed underneath a shiny gold trench coat. At the show she confidently walked down the runway clutching the front of her coat, and as she posed at the end of the runway toward the audience, she dropped her coat to the floor exposing her undergarments. Goa was extremely pleased with her outfit and humble about her runway performance. Liz Worgan ’16 presented two collections of her original designs. As a co-head of Allstolen Apparel, an affordable, premium street wear company established in the spring of 2015, she showed two of their newest designs. Produced in Philadelphia with all fair-trade fabrics, the Allstolen looks felt casual and effortless, but also had a dynamic presence in the room. Liz’s second collection demonstrated her raw and provocative style, as well as her creative craftsmanship. She outfitted her models in unconventional materials such as black trash bags, rubber, tape, straws, netting and chains. Each look was uniquely dramatic and pushed the boundaries of structure and form, celebrating female strength and power. 26

Catherine Headrick ’17 exhibited her sophisticated adeptness in surface design and textile treatment in her mini-collection. She first dyed fabric yardage-wise and then sewed garments out of this fabric. The art and craft of fabric dying is a skill that she is passionate about, so she wanted to display some of her batik work. Batik is a historically Indonesian tradition, which is a technique of wax-resistant dyeing on textiles. Catherine’s fabric looked like clouds of rippling water moving down the runway and her modern and elegant designs made it clear she has a sophisticated taste.

Anna Fubini ’19 made a collection of up-cycled and original designs. Up-cycling is a currently popular activity of taking older garments and revamping them in some way. For example, Anna took what was originally a simple grey t-shirt dress, removed the sleeves and added a collar of rubber tiles and black fringe. The dress is absolutely

garments were all extremely well-constructed. Although the styling was avant-garde, the pieces on their own were contemporarily fashionable. Geared with determination and ambition, these five designers each presented their own garments or mini-collection, articulating their own creative voice as an artist.

Clothing by ALLSTØLEN Apparel Co. unique, but also feels very modern and relevant. Her original pieces were impressive and striking. A black and silver lace gown held particular glamour on the runway, as it shone and sparkled in the light. Emma Fritschel ’19 was not cautious in her use of color and pattern for her mini-collection. She paired garments like rainbow zebra printed trousers with a dinosaur printed button-down shirt. Her designs transcended gender stereotypes and labels, as well as the “status quo.” She styled both her male and female models with neon and sparkly eyebrows, which felt playful, strange, and slightly reminiscent of oompa-loompas. The

Clothing by ALLSTØLEN Apparel Co. 27

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By Daniel Kapp Photos Courtesy of the Tang

I closed my eyes, took in a deep warm breath, and felt absolutely care free. Gleaming, colored lights projected deep shadows onto the angled Tang Gallery walls and onto our bodies simultaneously. Two paper cups were tied with a ribbon onto my head and a daunting two hours of uncertainty lied ahead of me.

Artist Hana van der Kolk switched on her selection of pop-folk music, ushered us into micro-groups, and taught us a piece of ceremonial, tribal-esque choreography. Despite my lack of dance experience and my general disapproval of uncomfortable social situations, I followed suit and surrendered all the inhibitions I’d come in with, cups-on-head and all. The beauty of not caring, in a room of other people not caring, is that you’re free to enjoy yourself entirely non-ironically, which is rare in and of itself. Each of us had unique headpieces, some people with coat hangers, others with plastic shopping bags, and all of us looking as absurd as the next.

“Gleaming, colored lights projected deep shadows onto the angled Tang Gallery walls and onto our bodies simultaneously.” These moments are entirely blissful and only comparable to some sort of mysterious dream. Because we were contained in this enchanting art space, within a small college campus, leaving meant returning to work and obligations in the cold New York winter weather. But for a brief second, we were relieved of all these worries, and of reality itself. In our exploration of both movement and personality, we stepped beyond the realm of potential self-loathing and fearing our actions’ repercussions moving toward an experience of community and soul. 29

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When the lights turned back on and the music turned off, I recall breathing deeply again, just like how I began, almost as if coming out of a deep meditation. Reflecting on what I had just experienced, I took another breath.

Walking down the metallic Tang stairway and out into the cold breezy night, I thought about the type of moments where we feel a true sense of self and identity. I thought about how I would continue to treat other daily experiences with the same fearlessness Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d experienced that night. This has proven harder than it sounds.

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STUDENT SUBMISSIONS

Top Left: Jonnea Herman, State of Nature/Danger, digitally manipulated watercolor and gouache on canvas. Top Right: Madeleine Welsch, The Great Divide, lithograph. Bottom Left: Emma Waldman, Disruption, painting on canvas.

Top Left: Reese Robinson, Untitled, photograph. Top Right: Sophia Baraschi-Ehrlich, Golden Jungle (Molly) (in-progress), oil on panel. Bottom Left: Jackson Bryant, Sign 4, oil pastel and vinyl. Bottom Right: Sadie Saltzman, Drinking in Paradise, photo collage.

Top Left: Liv Fidler, Untitled, color film photograph. Top Right: Monica Horowitz On Bikes, woodcut. Bottom Left: Elaina Aquila, Dad Chest; Jill Armpit, photographs. Bottom Right: Savan DeSouza, Untitled, carrara white statuary marble.

Top: Allison Gretchko, Smear, digital photograph. Middle: Sunny Tran Thi, My Love Paramour, digital photograph. Bottom Left: Jonathan Hernandez, Hands, woodcut and embroidery. Bottom Right: Sunny Tran Thi, Breathe this air, digital photograph.