The Culture Connection
By Holly Miller
Today they’re talking Turkey.
Samantha hurries to the front of the class and studies the map on the wall. Her index finger pauses first over Italy, then over Greece, before moving east to rest on Turkey. Her 16 classmates nod—they knew where it was all along—and wait for their teacher to tell them more about the country they’ve been studying for four Saturday mornings. The “lecture” is followed by a brief video about the Byzantine period, which is followed by the real fun: the art part.
Today they’re making mosaics. “Kids learn to take an assignment from concept through execution,” explains Ray Freer, AU professor of art and overseer of the Saturday art class program for elementary school children. “They use their hands, and they make decisions about colors and the juxtaposition of images. It’s a very valuable learning experience, and it’s equally valuable for the AU art-education students who teach the sessions. Often this is their first attempt to communicate about art.”
Freer came up with the idea more than 10 years ago when he decided that his upper-division students would benefit from interaction with young children before the student-teaching experience. He designed a curriculum with a thematic approach—one year they focus on Japan, the next year on Africa—and collaborated with AU students on coming up with projects relating to the theme. The first youngsters to enroll in the series were children of faculty members, but word spread and the program quickly grew to include youth outside the campus family. He now tries to cap the number at 15 participants, but as long as one more chair can fit around the classroom table, he doesn’t say no. Sometimes it’s a tight squeeze.
“This is a way we can offer the community the kind of enrichment program that you typically find in large cities,” says Freer. “I want to provide a service by giving talented kids a place where their artistic abilities can blossom.” In addition to the experience that his AU students gain, Freer says he, too, benefits from the program. “The class is like a laboratory. I sit on the sidelines and take lots of notes. As a teacher I need to be involved in the practical aspects of art education. I need to know how kids think and react.”
Where campus meets community
The culture connection that links the AU campus with the city of Anderson has never been stronger. Programs such as Freer’s Saturday morning series reach out to local residents and provide common ground where talents blend and interests bloom in ways that benefit both communities. Some collaborative efforts—the Anderson Symphonic Choir, for example—have a tradition of several years; others, such as the AU Music Academy, are so new that few people know of their existence. But Dr. Susan Taylor, director of bands and founder of the Academy, is out to change that.
“I had been trying to find ways to do outreach kinds of things that would benefit our students as well as the local school systems,” explains Taylor. “I knew that some middle schools did not have any kind of band instruction, so about a year ago I floated a trial balloon.” The “balloon” took off and became the Music Academy, a program that has students in sixth, seventh and eighth grades playing side by side with AU students majoring in music education. Taylor and her colleague, David Robbins, band director at Anderson High School, were surprised at the response generated by the invitation letters sent to private and public schools around Madison County. “We started with about 40 kids,” she says. “On any given night we had as many as 50.” She plans to offer the weekly program again in September.
Like the Saturday morning art classes, the Music Academy reaped benefits for everyone involved. AU music-education students gained valuable experience by sitting next to the young musicians and fielding their questions. Taylor welcomed the opportunity to interact with junior-high kids and adjust her teaching methods to that age group. “Middle-school students are changing all the time. The last thing I want to do is attempt to prepare prospective teachers without being up-to-date on what is going on in today’s classrooms,” she says.
The Music Academy also taught AU students an unexpected lesson in humility. Because several of them participated in the Monday practice sessions to learn instruments that were unfamiliar to them, an unusual role-reversal situation evolved. “Here they were, college kids learning to play the flute, for example, and sitting next to middle-school kids who already play the flute,” says Taylor. “So the school children became the ‘teachers’ as they demonstrated fingering techniques. It was a humbling experience for our college kids!”
Encouraged by the success of the Academy, Taylor dreams of launching a similar program for younger students and, on the opposite end of the age spectrum, creating a senior-citizens band. “I hear two comments all the time from parents: First, they say, ‘I never had a chance to learn to play an instrument.’ And second, ‘I wish my parents hadn’t let me quit taking music lessons.’ So, there’s a whole adult population out there who never had the opportunity, didn’t have the time or couldn’t spare the money. This would be a great teaching opportunity for our music-education students because many of them will end up conducting community bands.”
Strike up the (adult) band
Anderson has had such a band for more than two decades. Currently conducted by Dr. Becky Chappell, associate professor of music, the Anderson University Community Concert Band is a mix of community residents and AU students who either are not music majors or are music majors playing instruments other than their primary instruments. The group, which has grown from 18 to 60 musicians under Chappell’s baton, plays challenging but familiar pieces at two public concerts each year. Participants range in age from teens to a 78-year-old alto saxophonist whose father played in Sousa’s band. They come from as far away as Indianapolis, Muncie, Alexandria and Yorktown and often are so out of touch with their musical roots that they have to borrow instruments from the AU inventory. “Skill levels vary,” admits Chappell. “Some people haven’t picked up their horns since high school but have decided to get back into it and give it a go. Other people are really fine musicians and elevate the rest of the group. No one is ever turned away because of a lack of experience. If a person loves music and wants to play, he can be in the band. I just say, ‘If you get to a place that is too difficult, stop playing and let the others take over.’ It’s a lot of fun, but there’s serious education that goes on.”
Chappell describes the community band as a “low-budget operation,” with the university providing the funds to purchase sheet music. The Christmas and spring concerts, held in Anderson’s restored Paramount Theatre, are reasonably priced, with all revenue donated to the Paramount Heritage Foundation. “This is a way the university can give something back to the community,” says Chappell. “The community musicians are the backbone of the group. We fill in with college students, but we depend on the community people for their talent and enthusiasm. They’re so eager to learn and so easy to teach that I walk away feeling inspired by being around them.”
Going for Baroque
Two other musical entities—the Anderson Symphony Orchestra and the Anderson Symphonic Choir—also were founded on campus although the symphony now operates independent of the university, with a 24-member board of directors and a budget of almost $250,000. “The orchestra was started at AU and is still a place where community and campus people come together to make music for the entertainment of the public,” says Dr. Richard Sowers, AU professor of music and music director and conductor of the symphony. “No ‘official’ ties remain, but some of the musicians are professors and others are college students who are gaining valuable professional experience.”
The symphonic choir is a different story. Launched by Sowers in December 1985 with the blessing of then-president Robert Nicholson, it continues to enjoy a close connection with the campus. “Community involvement was really important to Nick,” says Sowers. “He saw the choir as an opportunity for the university to open its arms and invite the community to come on over.” More than 100 responded to the initial invitation and today the choir includes a broad mix of talent, ages and professions. “We have lots of university people plus farmers, engineers, attorneys and physicians. We’ve had ninth graders and people in their 80s; some might be considered professionals, others are amateurs.”
Music is their common ground, but not just any music. (See sidebar.) “These people want a meatier kind of experience, one that gives them an opportunity to sing what they couldn’t sing anyplace else,” says Sowers. In choosing the musical programs for both the symphony and the choir, Sowers tries to balance what the musicians want to perform and what a diverse audience wants to hear. He admits that he doesn’t always succeed in pleasing all of the people all of the time. “When concertgoers tell me what they like, they often use the word ‘familiar.’ But ‘familiar’ to some people means what they hear on an elevator, and ‘familiar’ to others means Beethoven.”
To boost the familiarity of music that may seem obscure, Sowers chats with the audience before a concert and offers comments on the evening’s program. He engages in similar background dialogue when he announces to members of the symphonic choir the difficult pieces they will master during countless hours of weekly rehearsals. “There is no quick way to learn the kind of music that we do,” he explains. “This is a place where singers can be challenged. Here, they see that when they put out this kind of effort they receive this kind of reward. It’s not instant gratification. It takes a while to get there, but once you’ve arrived, you have a huge sense of accomplishment and a deepened understanding.”
In search of the “Aha!”
If the Anderson Symphony Orchestra and the Anderson Symphonic Choir stretch their members and their audiences with music, the AU theatre studies program performs similar feats with drama. The community becomes an essential part of the education of students who are learning to evoke certain responses from an audience. “Performers, designers and directors who utilize Byrum Hall need to hone their skills in front of live audiences,” says Ronn Johnstone, assistant professor and director of the theatre studies program. “Otherwise, it’s purely a classroom experience. That might work for accounting majors, but it’s death for students in the performing arts.”
What succeeds in a classroom may fail in a theatre, and only onstage performances can yield the all-important “Aha!” moments. “We need an audience to laugh so we learn, ‘Aha! So that’s how we construct a funny moment.’ We need an audience to cry so we learn, ‘Aha! So that’s how we construct a sentimental moment.’ It’s the purpose of art to tap into the emotions that audiences bring to a performance. We provide the sets, the actors, the sound and lights, but without an audience there is no theatre.”
Johnstone faces the same challenge as Sowers in achieving the right balance between what the community wants to see and what the students need to perform. “Most people conceive of theatre as a place to go for entertainment,” he admits. “Even if we’re trying to create a piece of art that has real significance in terms of talking about our faith, it can’t be such ‘high’ art that it is unintelligible. It has to be palatable.” Making a play entertaining for the audience, educational for the students and financially profitable for the program is like constructing a three-legged stool. According to Johnstone, the legs are “stunningly hard to balance.” That, too, is part of the learning experience.
As a means of boosting the visibility of the campus drama program, tuning into local tastes in entertainment and providing a service to the community, Johnstone is a co-host for “After Hours,” a weekly radio broadcast that focuses on the arts in East Central Indiana. With the help of two on-air colleagues, he engages in banter about films, television shows and local theater. “They refer to me as ‘the professor’ because I’m supposed to supply the academic angle. We try to let people know what’s going on, particularly in Anderson and surrounding communities.”
Pursuing art all year
Johnstone’s schedule doesn’t slow at the end of the school year. During the summer he typically helps Ken Ryden, AU professor of art, with the Riverwalk Arts Camp. An outreach to talented youth, the program was proposed six years ago by Anderson Mayor J. Mark Lawler, who had been impressed by a similar effort in Chicago. “Mark called me one day and said he had an idea he wanted to pitch,” recalls Ryden. “We met at the little café in Florida Station, and he asked if I could design something that might fit our community. I told him I’d be happy to.”
What started in a tent on the banks of the White River has expanded into a six-week camp for teenagers interested in learning more about music, drama, dance and the visual arts. It will culminate this year with a downtown arts festival in July. “Some of the students are very gifted and others are just beginning to explore their talents,” says Ryden. Two AU art-education students who helped him launch the project, Rich Stolt and Kelly Morrow, now teach art in public school. At least one participant in the camp, Sarah Noble, was sufficiently inspired to enroll at AU after high school. “She’s a junior now, majoring in fine arts and winning all sorts of awards.”
The arts camp was a key factor in the development of the Florentine Community project, a comprehensive effort to increase area residents’ appreciation of fine art and to attract working artists to Anderson’s downtown. Ryden, who operates a gallery in the heart of the district, currently is completing a major bronze sculpture called The Graces that will stand near the Paramount Theatre as a permanent tribute to the arts as they are practiced and enjoyed on campus, in the community and beyond. “The theme of The Graces is to celebrate the gift of creativity,” explains Ryden. “It represents the performing, visual and literary arts, with each of the figures representing a phase in the development of the gift. The first figure shows the receipt of the gift, the second depicts the commitment to cultivate the gift, and the third figure illustrates the giving back of the gift to the community.”
Nelsons Keep Vocal Chords in Shape
Of the almost 900 people who have sung in the Anderson Symphonic Choir, Karen and Doug Nelson are among the original members still active after 15 years. First from the stage at Reardon Auditorium and now from the Paramount, they’ve performed Handel’s “Messiah,” persevered through Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony (“At the end we were dripping with perspiration,” recalls Doug), mastered Verdi and recently presented a cantata based on poems by defrocked monks in the plague years. “Most of it was in German and Latin,” explains Doug, “so we had to learn the pronunciation.”
Forget the “Whiffenpoof Song” and other glee-club staples. The musical fare of a symphonic choir is heavy stuff, which is precisely why the Nelsons like it. “We’re exposed to a real range of music,” says Karen. “It stretches us. I love the experience of tackling something difficult and gradually hearing it take shape. At first we may not appreciate it, but after we’ve worked hard on it for a while, it begins to become music.”
And music has been an important part of their relationship since they met as members of the a cappella choir at Linfield College in Oregon. They’ve sung in several choirs—he’s a bass, she’s an alto—during their 36-year marriage and were ripe for a challenge when Rick Sowers announced in an AU faculty meeting that he was recruiting voices. “We both had studied music when we were kids,” says Doug. “My instrument was the piano, although my teacher probably wouldn’t admit to having given me lessons.”
Camaraderie has been a bonus of choir membership. “I’ve gotten to know students, people who work for GM, public school teachers, farmers and retirees,” says Doug. “These are people I might never have met if it hadn’t been for choir. It’s been fun to see such a varied group become molded into an organization that is committed to taking some really good but often difficult music and singing it well.”
Bridging the Gap
Debbie McBratney Stapleton BA ’76 has been criss-crossing Anderson’s Eighth Street bridge in the name of art for more than 20 years. As one of a half-dozen museology majors in the early 1970s, Stapleton made the campus-to-city trek daily on foot—first as an intern and then as a volunteer at the Anderson Fine Arts Center (AFAC). Now she has reversed her route. Two mornings a week she leaves her office in the historic Carnegie Building downtown to teach back-to-back classes in art appreciation at AU. As executive director of AFAC since 1981, she has access to a range of materials and frequently comes laden with a sampling of goodies from the galleries she oversees.
“Students other than art majors take this course,” she explains. “I want to teach them some very practical things as well as theory, concepts and ideas. For example, I might take 10 pieces of art into the classroom along with my usual slides and lecture notes. I point out the differences between a poster, a limited edition print, an original watercolor on paper and an oil painting on canvas. I never know what kinds of comments I’ll get because the mix of students ranges from those who love art to those who have had very little exposure.”
Stapleton originally came to AU from Kansas City to pursue a degree in social work. Her decision to juggle two majors—sociology and the briefly offered degree in museum preparation—ensured a choice of professions. Her third career, that of teacher, was a logical spinoff of both. Just as she educates college students on the east side of the bridge, she educates the community on the west side. “We usually do two or three exhibitions at a time in our galleries,” she says. “Part of my goal is to offer something that most people can readily relate to and understand. Then we try to schedule an exhibit in another gallery that challenges people. This might be art that causes them to ask, ‘What is this?’ ‘Why did the artist do that?’ ‘What message is he trying to convey?’ We try to take them to another level of appreciation. Sometimes we do this through exposure to original art, or through videotapes of artists talking about their work or through classes and workshops.”
The variety of her roles is what keeps her in Anderson. “I think all the time about how fortunate I am,” she says. “Even after 20 years, I love what I do.”
