Campus lacks individuality
Erin Butler
Student Columnist

> February 16, 2001

First, I would like to introduce myself: my name is Erin Butler, and I’m a senior English-Studio Art double major. Last semester I studied under David Finn, an assistant professor of art, in a bona-fide university course. Not including me, there were three other students eager to bring art to a campus that is unabashedly lacking on the aesthetic side. The architecture is the same; the few pieces of public sculpture are unprovocative and safe: art has been so regulated here that it no longer serves a higher purpose of evoking emotions. In a school that flaunts its altruistic slogan, “Pro Humanitate” and prides itself on a higher standard of education, a student such as me would expect an atmosphere that embraces the Beautiful; today, I stand corrected.

This morning, on my way to class, my roommate and I decided to take a brief detour to walk by my public art piece, “Shrine,” a work in which I dedicated a semester’s worth of work to individuality. I spent four months worth of time, energy, money, thought and most of all, love on something I found worthy, only to have it be smashed by an ignorant, self-absorbed fool. Approaching the corner of Tribble Hall and the library, I noticed a shard of mirror reflecting the tree, which blocked the view of “Shrine;” it was a feeble indicator of the damage I knew had occurred — my heart sank. A person, a human being, took it upon him or herself to whack this unassuming and unthreatening public art, which made a sizeable break in the concrete arch. I had used a mold to create this parabolic arch that protected the underlying brass bowl, and then I had meticulously attached many pieces of multi-colored china and mirror to the outside and inside of the arch. This arch and this shrine are irreplaceable; no facilities management team or worker will replace this with a brand spanking new one, as they replace everything else on this campus that suffers from careless abuse.

Finn forewarned us on the vulnerability of artwork displayed to the university community; he explained to us the destruction of pieces from his class before. He taught us of the fear that artwork, not displayed in a recognizable context, created among our peers. I don’t think I fully understood what he said. I didn’t understand why this campus remained sterile: it lies in the ignorance and fear of a community that shuns individuality and spontaneity. Many of my friends just shook their heads sadly, saying, “some stupid drunk on pledge-night,” as if that explained away this problem. Why not throw chairs from the second floor windows of Tribble? Why not chuck beer bottles through Benson? This isn’t about being drunk and destroying property; this is about destroying another person’s hard work, a work, no less, that attempted to bring a flicker of color and thought to an otherwise monotonous campus.

No repercussions will befall the student who committed this crime, and it is a crime (just imagine your 100-page final paper being ruthlessly erased by a fellow student). No, the campus police will be out on patrol, searching and destroying unregistered parties and stopping the flagrant display of fun, and I surely don’t mean to say that this is a result of the po-po’s lack of patrolling. Until the administration and fellow students embrace David Finn’s class, and other classes that seek to educate and enlighten this community, the destruction and fear of creative works, not protected by glass frames and iron chains, will continue.