| Does this mean my 1965 library fines are
forgiven? It doesn't matter. I have enough money to last the rest of my life....unless I buy something. When I was told I was selected for this honor, I felt a wave of humility, but it quickly passed. I was reminded of something Golda Mier said, "Don't feel humble. You're not that great!" I'm just grateful that I`ve lived long enough that the committee has exhausted the list of all the truly deserving artists and has finally descended to me. This university changed my life. I'm not talking about the drugs and sex. No, it changed me the way it was intended to change me, by opening my mind and spirit to the possibilities of the world. I remember at the time being thrilled by how much I had grown and changed after a semester here and being awed at the prospect of at least three more years. Credit to the faculty. Every semester I was lucky to have one or two instructors who were inspirational. Even after 40 years some personalities remain memorable. Dr. Ernst Scheyer, an art history lecturer who lived German expressionism. Brilliant Dr.Hoekstra , a rotund gnome-like aesthetics teacher whose impersonation of a ballerina was hilarious. Dr. Cooper, who, but for lacking 2 inches in height, would have been on Broadway, starred in his own propless productions of scenes from Classical History. Of course, there were those who were memorable for the wrong reasons. Like the speech teacher, Marvin Esch, who taught my orientation class how to steal from the lost and found. He went on to become a state legislator, and, last I heard, sentenced to several years for embezzling. Or an infamous math teacher, who shall remain unnamed only because he's not a public figure, who routinely flunked all but one or two. Imagine a cross between a spider and a chicken but without the sex appeal, and you have some idea the man's physical style. One day, in class he said to us ," You do not have one thought, one sensation, one feeling or emotion, that cannot be expressed in mathematical terms!" It was that day that I dropped his class and gave serious consideration to a career in something other than engineering. But looking back now, teachers like him and Esch were minor obstacles and, in a way, object lessons, in themselves. They were vastly out-weighed by individuals who nurtured, mentored and encouraged. I was fortunate to fall under the influence of one such individual on the art faculty, a man named Peter Gilleran. Generally a quiet busy man, but who always had time to listen to a student's concerns. Who was careful to give individual advice that didn't condemn or admonish. Also, Peter Gilleran did something unique at the time. I can't remember whether it was once a year or once a semester, but he would lay out his own drawings and paintings on classroom desks and tables, on the floor, out the door, down the halls and stairways, scores of paintings, hundreds of drawings in all mediums, pencil, ink, charcoal, crayon, oils, water colors. Drawings and paintings that spanned years - decades. We students would wander up and down, marveling at the variety of his work, at his record of places, people and his experiences, at the development through the years of his ideas and themes. The time and the dedication and the persistence required to produce the prodigious quantity impressed us and showed us, like no lecture or slide show could, what was neccessary to be an artist. Mr Gilleran said lots of things I remember. When asked what did it mean to go on and get a masters degree in fine arts, He replied, "It demonstrates to the world that you can hold your breath for two years". Once he walked into our studio -classroom, looked at our drawings pinned to the wall and said, "Where are the wolves? These are all puppy dogs. I want a wolf." And walked out. I think some of the other award recipients will agree that there is an early point in an artist's development where the individual realizes that they must make a commitment to their art. It means taking a step off the well trod path and onto a more solitary trail. Some have likened it to taking religious vows in that one is turning one's back on pursuit of wealth, integration into the community, job security and all the rest. When I was wrestling with the decision, to major in Fine Art, Mr. Gilleran said, "Imagine you`re on an island and have everything you need. You are making art. God appears before you and says, "Make all the art you wish, But when you die, I will sink the island and no one will ever know of you or your work." Mr. Gilleran said "The question is: Would you continue to make art?" His question made the decision easy for me. Only decades later did I understand why. I'm happy to announce that Peter Gilleran graciously accepted an invitation to attend today's ceremony. He's here with his son. Please, Mr. Gilleran, stand up. In the Native American tradition of passing on a gift of honor, I offer this beautiful sculpture by Sergio DiGuisti to you in recognition of the gifts you and all good teachers offer their students. There was another group in the art department that was in some ways more important to me than the faculty. and that was the students. I've been told years later, that the group of students that was here in the art department in the early 60's was an exceptional bunch. I can believe that. Bob Weil, Bill Hip, Georg Ettl, Ed Kaspowicz, Sergio DiGuisti, Marie Despot, Joel Smith, and Bob Caskey, all mixed it up in the sculpture studio. Down the hall were painters Ed Hissong, Ellen Phelan, Nancy Mitchnik, Stanley Rosenthal, Ian Hornak , Sheldon Iden and Ann Mikolowski. Lily Tomlin (then known as Mary Jean) was rehearsing for the Mackensie Union Review in the Community Arts Auditorium. Anyone could wander in and watch. Kenny Cockrel was standing on a milk crate outside State Hall, scaring the BeJesus out of kids from the suburbs and Joni Mitchell was watching traffic on Cass from her Merrick Street apartment window. But one individual who was a sculpture student at here looms large in my life not only because he shared an office and an art department with me for 35 years at Macomb College. But because of his protean creativity, enormous work ethic and rigorous mind. That individual is David Barr. Most artists are protective of their creations. David finds ways to pull other artists into his. Most artists strive create artworks that enlarge their claim. David recognized that his territory grows larger when shared. The scope of his vision is amazing. He has founded Legacy Art Park, Michigan's only public art park. With his 4 Corners project, he has created the largest sculpture in the world, literally. The only way I could avoid the soul destroying jealousy that is so dangerous when teaching and working next to an enormous talent like this, is to learn to love that talent and celebrate it. I'm happy to report that David's generous spirit makes that relatively easy. Unfortunately he's not here this evening, he's driving up to the park at Honor Michigan to build another building on the park. But one other student I got to know here has meant even more in my life. Like I and engineering, Janet Laur was fleeing a career misstep. She was finding psychology much more interesting than accounting. And I found her as interesting as art. We timed our wedding so that our honeymoon was spent in our apartment on campus cramming for finals. We were such an obvious mismatch. All the ladies at church said we must have had to get married. When we had a son 14 months later, the church ladies, who were not so good at counting, said "See? We told you!" We lived at 4th and Forrest until I got my masters. She got her doctorate three years later. Without her support, advice and encouragement, I would not be standing here. She has been my sea anchor keeping me oriented, helping me ride out the storms. She has been my kite's string, connecting me to earth and enabling me to fly high. Credit goes to her. Mr. Gilleran, You might have to share that statue with my wife. (Note: The name of the awarding university has been excised from this version. They know why.) |