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PrattCard to Expand to Myrtle Avenue this Fall
Pratt to Hold Community "Design Jam" on July 11
Pratt to Celebrate its First Ever Endowed Professorship
Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman Named Acting Fashion Design Chair
2009 Fine Arts Graduates Win Joan Mitchell Fellowship Awards
Pratt Institute and the Myrtle Avenue Brooklyn Partnership (the Partnership) recently announced a collaboration to expand the reach of PrattCard, Pratt’s student and faculty identification card, to businesses on the Myrtle Avenue commercial corridor at the start of the Fall 2009 semester. Once in place, Pratt students, faculty, and staff will be able to put a cash balance on their cards similar to a debit card that can be used to shop or dine at participating Myrtle Avenue businesses.
Pratt Institute Center for Sustainable Design Studies (CSDS) and the Pratt Incubator for Sustainable Design Innovation will partner with Pratt Towers housing cooperative to hold a community “design jam” on Saturday, July 11 from 9:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. at Pratt Towers located at 333 Lafayette Avenue. Members of the community are invited to brainstorm possible residential uses for 60 square feet of unused space behind the towers that has remained empty for 15 years.
Pratt Institute President Thomas F. Schutte and The Board of Trustees of Pratt Institute will hold a dinner to celebrate the establishment of The Marc Rosen Distinguished Visiting Chair in Design on Tuesday, June 16, 2009 at The Gramercy Park Hotel Roof at Two Lexington Avenue in Manhattan. The event will include a cocktail reception at 7 p.m. followed by dinner, and will celebrate the first endowed professorship in the history of Pratt Institute.
Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman, a Pratt alumna and fashion design executive with over 15 years of experience, has been named acting chair of the Institute’s Fashion Design Department. Pailes-Friedman, who has taught in Pratt’s fashion and industrial design departments since 1998, will begin her appointment July 1, 2009. She replaces Rosie DePasquale, who is stepping down after serving as chair of the Fashion Design Department since 2000 to work on the launch of her yoga accessories and clothing line. DePasquale will return in the spring 2010 semester as a full-time professor.
Pratt Institute department of fine arts graduate students Charlotte Meyer and Kris Scheifele won 2009 Joan Mitchell Fellowship Awards for their accomplishments in sculpture and painting, respectively. Through this award program, Meyer and Scheifele will each receive a $15,000 grant and will also participate in a group exhibition at the Cue Art Foundation in Chelsea, New York in spring of 2010.
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Laurie (Mutchnik) Maurer, Arch., ‘57 and Stanley Maurer, Arch., ‘55 both enrolled in Pratt Institute’s School of Architecture in the mid-1950s. Although both had been reared in Brooklyn, it was not until they attended Pratt that they met for the first time. In the ensuing years a relationship developed.
As first-year architecture students they had the same projects and often the same critics. One they both recall was Professor Bregger: “He had high standards,” Stanley explained, “and if you didn’t meet them, he would tell students they should walk across campus and go to the engineering school!” They also remember “sleepy hollow,” as they referred to the lecture hall in Main Building, where students would go for large lectures, often with slide shows, but often fell asleep. Both the Maurers socialized mostly in the Pratt Student Union or in the city. “We worked really hard,” said Laurie, “and it didn’t leave much time for partying.”
Looking back on their years at Pratt, they believe they were educated at a time when some of the best architects of the 20th century were teaching there as professors or visiting lecturers. “Pratt was definitely heavily influenced by the Harvard School of Design,” Laurie said. “It’s hard to explain just how excellent the school was.”
Right after graduation, Stanley was drafted. “There was no war at the time,” he explained, “but I still had to serve duty in the Navy.” When he returned, two years later in 1957, Laurie had just graduated, and six months later the couple were wed.
From the very beginning of their marriage, the Maurers began to design together. The first apartment they shared became a design project in itself and was their first collaboration as a couple. The newlyweds had no furniture, so they went to the lumber yard and got plywood, and structural timbers, which they used to design and build everything for their new home themselves. Though they could not have foreseen it then, it was the first of the many interiors Laurie and Stanley would design in the years to come.
Although they worked well together, the Maurers held professional jobs at separate firms during the early years of their marriage. Laurie got her first job on the recommendation of a Pratt professor, Sybil Moholy-Nagy. Sybil was a historian, and Laurie had worked on her slide collection for four years while at Pratt. After Laurie graduated, Sybil wrote a letter to Phillip Johnson introducing her. Soon after, Laurie was hired and began working in the Seagram Building in Manhattan. She later worked for Marcel Breuer.
Stanley’s first job was with I.M. Pei and then moved on to Edward Larrabee Barnes, his senior thesis critic at Pratt. For the next 10 years, Stanley worked at Ed Barnes’s studio. Both the Maurers agree that these initial work experiences shaped the design principles and attitudes upon which they later built their own firm. During this time, they began to pick up freelance projects on the side and spent many evenings working on them together.
In 1969, the Maurers decided it was time to open their own studio, Maurer and Maurer Architects. Neither one liked working in large firms and both wanted to keep their firm small, so they designed their studio to have a maximum of four architects. From the very beginning, their focus was strictly on design, which both credit to their Pratt education.
Together the Maurers make a great team; Stanley deals with the contractors, and Laurie deals with the small details for the interiors of buildings. They always leave the office at 5 PM and both feel very strongly about having lives away from architecture and their business. This practice, they believe, has helped them to continue to enjoy their work and each other.
The Maurers favorite part of being married and being architects is sharing a common interest. When they travel, for example, they want to see the same things: buildings. Laurie said, “We each own a camera, and when we travel we often come home with two sets of the same pictures, since we take photos of the same things—mine are just from a few inches lower!”
Over the last 48 years Maurer and Maurer Architects has completed over 60 projects and has been published 24 times. Together the couple has received six awards and raised two daughters. After 50 years of married life, they are still hard at work. “I will never retire,” says Stanley, and the same is true of Laurie.
Sustaining a Creative Life into one's elder years caught my eye because I have never given a thought to my age. I graduated from Pratt with an illustration major in 1951 and have been working as a science and medical illustrator to this very day. I have worked with Nobel Laureates and scientists including DNA pioneer Dr. James Watson and molecular cell biologist Dr. David Baltimore. I did the first illustration of the AIDS virus with its co-discoverer Dr. Robert Gallo, which appeared on the cover of Scientific American magazine in 1988. I was featured in American Artist and was the subject of an editorial article in Fortune. I also wrote a book, Illustrating for Science, which was published by Watson Guptill in 1992.
The illustration field changed dramatically about 15 years ago when the entire publishing field went electronic. At first I was skeptical but soon realized that there was no choice—it was adapt or retire. I chose to learn the new technology and it was a revelation. Once I mastered the new medium it was an entirely new ballgame. I could do conceptual procedures not possible using the traditional methods. Currently, I am completing a medical text, which has kept me busy these past eight months, and look forward to my next assignments. I still love the challenge, and I still love the work.
When I graduated from Pratt in 1941, it never occurred to me that my time at Pratt would help me lay the foundation for later life.
My career as a photographer was spent working freelance for commercial clients including advertisers and national publications. My photographs have been reproduced in over 60 books and periodicals, both here and abroad, and more than 20 national magazines have reproduced my photos on the cover.
My personal work, which is more about spontaneity and capturing the simplest events in life, has been exhibited in museums and galleries worldwide.
In my six decades as a professional photographer, I’ve produced a wealth of images, all the while enjoying each challenge. Taking pleasure in what you are doing is the key, and now at age 87, I am reaping the rewards.
Pratt taught me how to open my eyes to the wonders all around. At Pratt I was given the skills to present ideas. I recall the words of one professor “ideas are cheap—execution of an idea, that is hard work.”
Pratt made me feel that anything was attainable, through hard work.
Pratt taught me to be receptive to new ideas. In later life, I learned to say “yes” to small requests. For example, my daughter (in Jackson Hole, Wyo.) recently asked me to search my archives and make prints from one of my 1940s photo assignments (scenes from a small town in Connecticut) to illustrate a local production of Death of A Salesman. I agreed to the request, enjoyed the process, and now I look forward to an exhibition of the images. Another request I agreed to was not a small one, but the results were worth the effort. In 2003, the director of The Society of the Preservation of Long Island Antiquities (SPLIA), knowing that I have lived, documented, and photographed Long Island for over 60 years, called to invite me to exhibit my work. This project became the major retrospective exhibition of my career.
Pratt taught me to keep busy. Some self-assigned projects were brief while others took a year or more to come to fruition. In 2000, I produced a documentary (with the help of a director and cinematographer) about my twin sister (Frances McLaughlin-Gill, B.F.A. Pratt, 1941) and me. Titled Twin Lenses, it documents our dual (but separate) careers in photography. That project led me to another project with a similar theme, a book proposal titled “Twin Lives in Photography.” It is currently under consideration by a publisher.
Pratt taught me, you never stop learning. Three years ago, I took the plunge into the digital world of photography, and I’m delighted with the images I make. It’s rather daunting to print on the computer, but I am slowly learning. Going digital has opened new doors and the freedom of the process has inspired new projects.
I’ve been making art all my life, and when I read the recent issue of Prattfolio and saw how far back the class of ’61 was listed, I was reminded just how long that life has been.
As a child, I copied what other artists did, trying my best to “make it perfect.” In high school and at Pratt I learned to see and interpret the world and to “be creative.” As a working artist I developed a style, a way of seeing, unique to my life experiences. As a mature artist I continue to work, sometimes with an ease born of repetition, but always with an eye to finding something new to say. I cope with the challenge of finding the “new” by changing media, by writing instead of making images, by working small instead of large or visa versa, by sometimes working outdoors instead of in my studio, by traveling with my camera, by learning Adobe and Quark on the computer, by curating exhibitions, and by visiting galleries and museums.
In a basic way, each day brings the opportunity to start a new canvas.
Interview with Ted Lewin, Illustration, ’56 and Betsy (Reilly) Lewin, Painting, ‘59.
When did you first meet each other?
B: Ted had already graduated from Pratt when we met. He was the roommate of a friend’s boyfriend, who kept saying, ‘You’ve got to meet this guy, you are so much alike.’
T: I wasn’t in the same Pratt graduating class as she was, but I saw her walking around campus. After that, it was pretty close to love at first sight. But I was just so shy; it took my roommate, who was starting to hit on her, for me to realize that I might miss my chance. It forced me to make the first move. Honestly, we have been inseparable ever since.
B: We were together for six years before we got married.
Did you live around the Pratt Campus?
T: Betsy was living in the girl’s dorm on campus. There was a curfew at the time, but often we weren’t ready to end the night by then, so I used to stand on Willoughby Avenue and talk up to Betsy as she stood at her window. It was like Romeo and Juliet in a way.
Did you socialize around Pratt when you were students?
B: Of course!
T: When we first moved here in the ’50s the local Italian kids used to call us the Pratts, and there were always fist fights trying to beat up the Pratt kids, the locals at odds with the newcomers moving in. But after a while, we all made peace with one another. One of the local Italian guys still hangs out at the Alibi; he still stands in the same place he always stood at the bar, and when he steps away you can even see how the floor has worn away from his shoes.
B: Do you know the Alibi? It’s the one thing that hasn’t changed in the neighborhood. We always used to go there and Erik’s.
T: The local Italian and German folks used to stand at the front of the bar, and the Pratt students would walk right in past them and hang out in the back.
B: You would order a pitcher of beer for $1 at tables with red-checkered tablecloths.
T: It’s been interesting to see the changes.
What did you study at Pratt?
B: We both came to Pratt because we wanted to be illustrators of some sort, magazine illustrators preferably, because in the ’50s that was an illustrator’s dream job, working for the Saturday Evening Post or McCall’s or any of the slick publications.
T: By the time we graduated in the late ’50s, all the magazines had folded due to television, I think. Norman Rockwell and all the others from the golden age of magazine illustration were like rock stars.
Did you have a hard time getting a job after graduation?
B: Through the Pratt placement service I got a job doing color separation at a greeting card company on the Brooklyn docks. I managed to get them to hire me on a part-time basis, for three days a week, so I could spend the other days doing my own work and taking my portfolio around. It was really tough at the time.
T: I paid my way through school by wrestling professionally, so when I got out of school I worked on my portfolio and wrestled two or three nights a week. Then I would pound the pavement taking my portfolio around trying to get work. I would get a gig here and there for pulp magazines. I would get so excited to have actual printed pieces for my book. It was not what I was ultimately looking for, but I learned a lot doing it. Still I continued to wrestle for 15 years, so it took awhile to really get started in the field.
B: Ted also didn’t have a very good agent in the beginning. Then, when he switched agents, she got him work doing illustrations for textbooks.
T: That was the work that really got us started heading towards children’s books.
Did you both do text books?
B: No, I didn’t, but I started submitting little poems and stories to a children’s magazine. A children’s book editor really liked one of them and asked if I would turn it out. That first job really moved me into doing children’s illustrations. I found a great agent after that, and then I was on my way.
B: Once Ted’s agent retired, I became his agent of sorts; I would take his book around, and start trying to get him work. That was much better because we didn’t have to pay a portion to anyone else; we kept it as a team.
T: I started doing young adult book jackets.
Were you ever competitive with each other?
B: Definitely not! Our styles are so different, and the age group that our work speaks to is also so different that it has never been an issue.
T: People would always ask why we didn’t do books together. But our work just seemed so different, and we couldn’t figure out how to combine it.
Have you ever done a collaborative project?
B: Yes, we finally did!
T: We were looking for some sort of vehicle for it, so one year we took a trip to Uganda to see the mountain gorillas in the wild. It was a trip that had taken us a few years to accomplish, something we had talked about ever since we first met. We had been interested in doing it for a long time before we got the chance in 1997.
B: The important thing about the trips we take together is that we are always looking for a story. So when we finally got to see these gorillas—an event that was probably the defining point of our lives—nothing really out of the ordinary happened. The gorillas were just going about their normal everyday lives, eating and sleeping. By the end of the trip, neither of us really had a good story line developed. Going home on the plane is usually a time we use to get our notes together, discuss our ideas, and work on the manuscripts. Flying back after this trip, I told Ted I really couldn’t think of anything to write about. When I looked over at him, he was writing furiously in his journal! I asked him what he was writing about. He said, the trek, not actually seeing the gorillas, but the trip to get there.
T: We were on the plane talking about this, and we said: That’s it! That’s what the story is about—the trek to get there—and we realized that it would be a book we could do together. Betsy could do her field sketches of our trek, and I could do the detailed images of actually being with the gorillas.
B: Our book, Gorilla Walk, was so well received that we decided we should do another one together, so we did one about Botswana.
T: To date, we’ve done four collaborations. And we’re signed on to do several more. So these collaborative books are now another thing we can do together.
What has been the best part of being an artist couple?
T: We have each other to bounce ideas off; we’re a real team.
B: We are helpmates.
T: Betsy comes up to my studio while I’m working, and then I go down to see her work.
Are you also each other’s critics?
T: Yes! For instance, if I can’t figure out the way a horse’s leg would bend, I ask Betsy to help me. She can draw it from memory.
What do you think are each other’s biggest strengths?
T: Betsy has the capability to draw anything from memory.
B: Ted has great skill with perspective.
How do you separate your work from your personal life?
B: We don’t! There is no separation. We are always connecting things to our work, always creating stories out of what we see.
T: Our life experiences translate into our books. We are so lucky this is the case.
B: People always ask us why we don’t go on a real vacation and not think about work for awhile, but even when we try to do this we find ourselves sketching, or saying ‘wouldn’t that make a great story.’ It’s just so intrinsic to our lives.
What has been the key to making your relationship work for all these years?
T: Marriage is really a partnership.
B: And you really have to compromise.
T: We’re together for almost 24 hours a day.
B: We’ve known each other for over 50 years.
How do you think Pratt has influenced and shaped your life?
B: I can credit almost all my personal advances to the professors I met there. One of my favorites, Professor Calvin Albert, once said something that I have kept with me ever since: Whenever you got frustrated because things weren’t working, he would say ‘don’t worry, it will come.’ Over the years I have realized just how important this is. Things do come.
T: After spending four years in the intensity of the Pratt artistic community, you actually feel like an artist when you leave Pratt. With all that you’ve learned, and from the people you were around, you come out with a strong identity and feel comfortable about calling yourself an artist.
Do you have any advice for other artist couples?
T: Respect each other. It can’t be about me, it has to be about us.
B: It’s always we. We are a team. Even when we work separately, we really work together.
B: I think our lives would have been very different if we hadn’t been together. I think we both would have gone into and continued in the field, but I don’t think that my life would have been as rich if I hadn’t been with Ted. Having each other has helped each of us to grow and learn in our work.
T: We motivate and understand each other. We have both influenced each other, not in style, but in the direction we have gone with our skills.
I’m 82, widow of Victor R. Stephen (Illustration, ‘47). I finished Interior Design in 1945 during WW II, and through the placement office obtained a wonderful job at McCall’s Magazine working for Mary Daris Gielies. Geraldine Fisher Sirine was her assistant architectural editor who graduated at the same time that I did. She married an architect from Pratt before Vic and I wed in 1946. The four of us were lifelong friends. Geri’ passed away this past spring and I’m the last of the four.
Vic and I were married 54 years, but finally Parkinson’s claimed him in 2000. Right now I am working on one last exhibition of his artwork, which will be in the Upstairs Gallery where he usually entered their group shows, so this is about him.
We first came to Cornell in 1948 when he was offered a job as their first publications production manager for Extension Teaching and Information (in the Land Grant Colleges). This work dealt with all sorts of publications, and it kept expanding over the years. It entailed a variety of skills and led to combining work with classes at Penn State, where he completed a bachelor’s and master’s of art during the years 1955–1961. From there we moved to the University of Illinois with our two sons and stayed seven years until, Cornell called Vic back in 1968. All this time he was working in visual communications, but almost every day he spent time drawing or painting. His studio was always at home and his work was professional. Although he tried other methods, his heart was on realism.
His work was readily accepted, and he always freelanced until we left Penn State. Then he decided to draw and paint whatever he chose. I am still in our last home from 1969, where his studio was what was meant to be the master bedroom. Now I’m going through it, as well as the whole house to have this coming brief exhibition, because I think he deserves it.
Our family members have claims on quite a lot of his work, but I’ve reached the point where I can part with quite a lot. We had a fine life together. Vic was interesting and fun. His last work for Cornell was as a full professor teaching the art of publication and visual communication. He was also given the designation of emeritus.
Since his death I have kept busy at our senior center, church, neighborhood, friends, and family and never lack for something to do, even though I didn’t continue as an interior designer, it has helped me many times in my life. I enjoy seeing Prattfolio and how it has changed since we started in the fall of 1942. Good luck!
I am originally from the Bay Ridge section of Brooklyn, N.Y., but my parents decided to return to Norway during the 1930s. As a result, I spent my childhood and teenage years—from age 3–18—in Norway, including the occupation of the country during WWII from 1940 to 1945. At my parents’ urging, I returned to the States in 1949; they followed two years later. Back in the States, I worked at a variety of jobs, but primarily in the maritime industry, serving in the engine room of several ships and towing vessels, including N.Y. Harbor and river tugs. After a tour of duty in the Marine Corps, I went back to school and graduated from Pratt with a degree in Mechanical Engineering in 1958.
How I got to Pratt is a story in itself. At the time, I was working on an ocean-going tug, which happened to be docked on Staten Island, waiting for our next assignment. I had already decided to go back to school, but I had no idea where. On my way to Long Island to see my parents, I found myself at the Long Island Rail Road Station at Flatbush Avenue, where I saw a New York City police officer, who I thought might be of some help.
"Are there any engineering schools nearby?" I asked.
“Yes, there are two,” he replied. “Brooklyn Poly and Pratt."
“Which is closer?" I asked.
“Pratt,” he answered.
That encounter made my decision easier.
I enjoyed a challenging and rewarding career in the aerospace industry and retired in 1995 as a Manager in Systems Engineering at the Northrop-Grumman facility in Bethpage, N.Y. Prior to retirement, I gave considerable thought to how to find a way to maintain an active and creative lifestyle once I concluded my professional life. By the time retirement arrived, however, I had not come to a definite decision.
From the outset, I felt that it should be possible to find a way to remain actively engaged in life after retirement. Doing so was of the utmost importance to maintain a positive sense of self, especially in view of a transition from a highly orchestrated life style to one of total freedom in almost every respect. I knew from speaking with other retirees that whatever direction I took, it would have to be one that would provide a solid foundation for sustaining an interesting and stimulating existence. Every person I knew who did not greet the new day with expectation and excitement was miserable.
So, with a sense of freedom I had not experienced in 35 years and, I have to admit, a certain feeling of apprehension, I started searching my mind for things in the past that I’d had a keen interest in but that would not make me a slave to schedules and budgets, the two items that stressed me the most during my professional career. It struck me that I had always had a yearning to paint. In my youth, which was spent in Norway, I had done some charcoal and pencil sketches, as well as some painting. I had even won some amateur art contests, however, I had tabled the idea of an art career in anticipation of the financial demands of raising a family.
Although I had spent most of my time on the engineering side of the street, the confluence of the two factors—my latent interest in art and my exposure to art at Pratt—prompted me to pick up the brush and start painting shortly after retirement. That was 12 years ago, and doing so has kept my creative spirit thriving ever since. Every new canvas, large or small, is an opportunity to express my inner feelings, to say what I like and how I like to say it, and to translate into a universal language the impressions and feelings I have accumulated in my 76 years. And therein lies the difference between inspiration 30 years ago versus now: this creation is mine, as opposed to creating what somebody else wants me to create. For me, this is an immensely satisfying and freeing experience. I often refer to it as self-induced inspiration as opposed to forced inspiration. Whether my pursuit leads to world fame, local fame, or no fame at all is unimportant. The idea that I’m in the arena, doing what I like to do, is what counts.
Other than attending lectures by well-known artists in Rockport, Mass., I have no formal training, and I paint mostly from my mind’s eye. Only in a few instances have I painted specific scenes in given locations. My creativity is fueled by imagination and an inner need to put to canvas mental images that represent memories and impressions gathered during many years of varied life experience, including travel to many parts of the world.
Naturally, there are challenges to exercising my creativity. There are the normal day-to-day requirements of living that compete for my time, but I think the greatest challenge is being able to accept without fear and reservation the opportunity that comes with the total freedom to do what I want. To me, this is an intoxicating mix, especially after spending so many years in a structured environment. After all these years, I still find it risky and scary to put myself and my ego out there. But I firmly believe that no great gain is ever achieved without risk.
In summary, I would say my philosophy on retirement is to first determine what your passion is. Once you have decided, go all out to pursue it, the torpedoes be damned.
When did you two meet?
Joel: We met during senior year at the School of Architecture. We were both University Year in Action/VISTA volunteers at the Pratt Center for Community and Environmental Development (PICCED) under Ron Shiffman.
Georgie: We met in fall 1977.
What brought you to Pratt?
Joel: I wanted to study architecture in New York City, and I had had an art teacher in high school who was a Pratt grad, who encouraged me to apply. Since I lived in New York City, it made it easy.
Georgie: I came in 1975 as a transfer student from the University of Puerto Rico to study architecture.
Did you live on campus?
Joel: No, I commuted from Queens, which is where I lived.
Georgie: I lived in Willoughby Hall for about two months then moved to a studio apartment across the street from Higgins Hall on St. James Place.
Did you share any classes together?
Joel: We had not had any classes together until the PICCED experience.
Georgie: No, we took a totally different approach to our classes at Pratt. Joel went the strict architecture route, but I was a bit more esoteric. My first year design studio was with Bill Katavolos, which set the stage for the rest of my years at Pratt (and my career)! Even at PICCED, we focused on different areas of the city, Joel on the Lower East Side, and I on East Harlem.
Did you socialize around Pratt?
Joel: Of course. We spent a lot of time at Maxine’s and at the greasy spoon on DeKalb, Mike’s. We also had Manhattan as a running ground.
Georgie: I actually worked for a while at Maxine’s Health Food Store on DeKalb Avenue. At Mike’s they always knew what I wanted the minute they saw me walk in. Later on, when Maxine opened her restaurant on Hall Street, we would go there regularly.
What is your favorite memory from your time as students at Pratt?
Joel: There are many fond memories including lifelong friendships that started at Pratt, not least of which is my wife and partner; a trip to Falling Waters with my freshman design studio with Hanford Yang; hanging out in Higgins Hall between classes and during classes; having my design skills challenged and stretched by Hanford Yang, Myron Goldfinger, Gamal El Zogby, Warren Grant, and Ron Shiffman, who provoked my sense of responsibility toward the community; and last but not least there was Enid.
Georgie: My favorite memory is of exploring the tunnels and basements under Higgins Hall during our all-night charrettes. Of course, this was before the fire. There was something magical about the place in the middle of the night.
How long after you met did you get married?
Joel: About two years. We met in the fall of ’77 and married in May of ’79.
Georgie: We had a Pratt wedding! Several professors and colleagues from PICCED were at our wedding on May 19, 1979. We got back from our honeymoon just in time for graduation! I have a great picture of me with Ron Shiffman during our reception. It was a great party!
Have you ever collaborated on a project?
Joel: We have on many projects.
Georgie: Yes, we actually work really well together. Our strengths are quite different. I’m more of a people person, so I enjoy the upfront, programming part of a project. Also, I do pretty much all the PR and marketing for our firm.
Have you inspired each other’s artwork in any way?
Joel: We have definitely inspired and sometimes provoked each other creatively. My wife is a gifted writer and teacher in addition to being an architect. I like to think that our relationship has seasoned her creatively, and I know that that is the case for me.
Georgie: I would say that we influence each other in the way we balance each other. When it comes to art, Joel is the more traditional artist—sketching, painting—and I am more of a writer of poetry, stories, novels. Again, I guess that’s the exciting part of our relationship, we both love to express creatively, but we are so different we never feel that we are competing with each other.
What does Pratt mean to your relationship?
Joel: It remains a special place, since we met there. Also, the campus always felt like an oasis within the Clinton Hill neighborhood, which was really special in our transitional and formative years.
Georgie: It’s where it all started!
Have you ever competed with each other?
Joel: No. There is a complimentarity and synergy in our professional relationship that I don’t think could be equaled individually. We certainly have worked on individual projects, but we have never competed.
Georgie: No.
What is the best part about being artists and being a couple?
Joel: There is a level of connection that touches the core of who we are, as artistically creative persons, that often transcends the life stuff. We encourage and foster in each other that which is divinely inspired. That’s what’s special, and Pratt was instrumental in forming that gift.
Georgie: I think that we “get” each other, plus we look at life very similarly. It all goes back to seeing life as more than materials, but pushing the envelope on how you communicate, how you relate to your environment, to people. Architecture is the last of the Renaissance careers, so you look at the world more holistically. We relate to each other in the same way. Our relationship is more than a marriage because we see each other as more than just “my spouse.”
How, if at all, do you separate your work from your personal lives?
Joel: We seem to seamlessly migrate from one aspect to the other. Our art is part of the expression of who we are, so we celebrate that. We have passed from “becoming” into “being,” and our art is an integral part of that “being.”
Georgie: For a time, we did separate them. I took time off from architecture to pursue other interests and to raise our son. Now that I’m back in, it’s all one big mush pile. We have our own firm, and it’s hard to leave the work at the office. We try, of course, especially when things are stressful. But it’s more a matter of trying to leave the running of the office at the office. The fun jobs, though, we talk about frequently.
Do you have any advice for other artistic couples trying to live a creative life together?
Joel: Embrace and nurture the divinely initiated creative in each other and value the good gift that it is. Mutual respect and honoring also go a long way. Be affirming while critical when your insight is invited, always remembering that the other’s expression of creativity is purely theirs. The wonderful aspect of our relationship is that we are different.
Georgie: Rejoice over the differences!
What would you say has been the key to making your relationship work over the years?
Joel: Mutual respect for each others gifts and talents, as well as commitment to each other no matter what.
Georgie: Commitment to each other and to what we vowed when we got married. Like art, just because it doesn’t look right the first time around, it doesn’t mean a few tweaks won’t result in an awesome piece! Also, we share a common, solid foundation in our theology and spirituality. That’s been key to weathering the difficult times.
How did Pratt shape your future?
Joel: It taught me to look at the world and community in a very holistic way and to understand my role and responsibility to them.
Georgie: At Pratt I learned that there are many different ways to create space. I had some teachers that, honestly, did not help me in this. But others stretched and encouraged me to go beyond the obvious and explore the subtle. I love teaching, and have been given some wonderful opportunities to do so. No matter what the subject matter is, my approach has been to endeavor to create a space for students to experientially encounter that which they need to learn.
When did you two first meet?
Interestingly enough, Pam and I were in the same department at Pratt—Advertising Design and Visual Communications—but we did not formally meet until we had moved out to Southern California after graduation in 1969.
What brought you to Pratt?
We both wanted to attend the finest advertising design school then available in the United States.
Did either of you live on campus?
We both did.
Did you share any classes together?
Pam and I used to pass in the corridors. We had many of the same teachers but never at the same time. I should admit that although I noticed Pam, regrettably at the time, she did not notice me.
Did you socialize around Pratt?
We both spent our share of time at Eric’s, a favorite local bar at the time. I sure would like to know if it’s still around. All the students and many of the teachers socialized there.
What is your favorite memory from your time as students at Pratt?
We were all so serious and very competitive. But we cared about each other.
Do you remember a favorite Pratt professor?
I would certainly have to say both the late Herschell Levitt and Charles Goslin.
How long after you met did you get married?
We married seven years after graduation in 1976.
Have you ever collaborated on a project? Please describe your business.
In 1970, I began my graphics design and marketing firm: Alan Herman & Associates. Pam joined me after we got married, and we continue to work together 31 years later.
Initially, we took in any job we could pick-up from packaging design for cosmetics firms to logos for various and sundry businesses. Over time, our clients began to group together into certain categories such as technology and professional services (i.e., insurance and finance), and we made a name for ourselves in these areas. Our scope of capabilities also grew. When we began as solo practitioners, we were simply offering graphic design. By the mid-70s with additional staffing, we had added copywriting and advertising media services. Today, we are highly involved in strategic planning, website development, and even public relations. We like to tell our clients that, in fact, we can now function as their out-sourced marketing communications department. In the past 38 years, we’ve won our share of awards and are working with clients ranging in size from start-ups to Fortune 500 companies. You can visit our studio at: www.alanherman.com
Have you inspired each other’s artwork in any way?
We certainly have. We collaborate on everything from graphic design concepts to rearing children.
What does Pratt mean to your relationship?
Pratt made us strive for excellence in taste, craftsmanship, and philosophy of life.
What is the best part about being artists and being a couple?
We think in a similar vein.
How do you separate your work from your personal lives?
It’s easier than you think. My son and daughter both work in the business now and, at 61, I’m surprised how easily I can leave work at the office.
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Do you have any advice for any other artistic couples trying to live a creative life
together?
Work as a team…not as competitors. Marriage is difficult enough without the strain of competitive issues.
If you would like to visit with Alan and Pam, they can be reached at: alan@alanherman.com
800-633-0201 (office)
www.alanherman.com
Both my husband and I graduated from Pratt, Don in ’77 and me in ’89, but our image of Pratt is quite different. When I think of Pratt when he went there compared to when I went there, I realize how much the times have changed. We were entering a new era in communications.
My image of Pratt is that it was a place for both of us to discover our talents and the innovations that make life exciting no matter where we live. We came to Pratt in 1974 from North Dakota only a year after we were married. The teachers at Pratt were exceptional and it was great learning from top professionals in the field Don wanted to enter. We left New York for Iowa in December 1990 and have taken our New York experience back to the Midwest.
My husband graduated from Pratt in 1977 with a Masters in Communications Design. I graduated from Pratt in 1989 with a Masters in Library and Information Science. What is interesting about this is that Don wrote his thesis on using fiber optic networking to put computers in libraries so people could access information from other sources outside the library they were in. He interviewed the New York Public Librarians for his thesis. They were not pleased that a Communications Design major would even think of putting computers in libraries. They told him, "Libraries are for books not computers!"
Over ten years later I graduated from Pratt with a library degree, and the use of Dialogue database searching was just an introduction to computers in libraries. Computers to replace the card catalog were just beginning to be introduced in libraries. Today, there is probably not a public library that doesn't have a computer, even in small towns. The concept for his thesis became a reality and I became a librarian.
I am currently a Reference Librarian for the Des Moines Public Library. We have over 100 computers throughout the new Central Library. Out of that we have over 60 Internet computers for the public to use, and we still have people waiting in line to access the Internet. The library is three times the size of our old library and our circulation has increased as a result of expanding our collection. People still check out books, and those who may not have used libraries in the past are now using libraries on a daily basis. Public Libraries are still a necessity.
Don continues to use the knowledge he gained from his education at Pratt, only instead of being a graphic artist he is currently a martial artist. He still uses the graphic arts and information learned at Pratt to promote and manage his Eagle Claw Kung Fu business. We still consider Pratt as a part of home and love to come back and see the creative, exciting and wonderful things the students are doing. It is this atmosphere that always draws him back to Pratt whenever we come back to New York City to visit. Don is working at expanding his artistic ability by returning to his talent as a fine artist. Together we have experimented with combining the martial arts with performing arts by writing and producing a play called "The Legend of Yue Fei."
We have fond memories of the 16 years we lived in the Pratt neighborhood in Brooklyn. It has been 17 years since we moved out of New York, but when we go back to visit it feels like we are visiting our home town. People in the community remember us and we remember them.
If you would like to visit with Laura and Don, they can be reached at:
laura.walth@gmail.com Laura
sifuwalth@hotmail.com Don
www.dmeagleclaw.com
John Parham (M.S., Graduate Communications Design, ‘84) and Maruchi Santana, (M.S., Graduate Communications Design, ‘84) met at Pratt in 1980. In 1986 they founded Parham | Santana, a brand strategy and design firm headquartered in Manhattan.
When did you both meet each other?
John: I met Maruchi in my first year. She had only been in New York for five days. After our first class, the group all walked home together and Maruchi and I began to talk.
Maruchi: That night we met up again and ended up talking all night. John walked me to my dorm late that night, and the next day we looked for each other again on campus.
John: We were talking in-between our dorms, and later we came back and met at the same spot. We just couldn’t go home until we got to talk to each other again. I think that was the first night I met her. It really was one of those love-at-first-sight things.
How long after you met did you get married?
Maruchi: We met in the fall 1980 and we got married the summer of 1983. I was 23 and John was 25. We did everything together. We took all the classes together; we did all the assignments together. We both had limited funds, so we would pool our funds and have a joint account to buy supplies. We were living in separate dorms until we graduated, but from the moment we met we were a couple.
Did you socialize around Pratt?
Maruchi: Of course, but people were working very hard. The masters program was tough; we would sleep during the day and work all night. But, the social scene was everywhere. Since we worked all night, people would bake cookies and bring food and we all hung out on the ‘night-shift.’
Was there a time in your professional career that you didn’t work together?
John: My first job was with another Pratt graduate, Steve Burnett, and it was because of the Pratt connections and networking that I got the job. I worked there for two and a half years.
Maruchi: My first job was with the Walker group (a retail interior design group), followed by a year at the CBS network. I worked with a head-hunter who was a Pratt graduate, Roz Goldfarb. Roz found me my first job, and I have used her to find me employees through the years.
What has been the key to successfully working together?
John: Mutual respect. We were always able to critique each other. We may get upset, but after a bit we would be humble enough to realize…that the other person was right. Maruchi is very bold, direct, and never beats around the bush to tell me what she thinks. The respect and honesty in regard to each other’s work has gotten us where we are today.
Maruchi: John was a photographer so he would shoot all my pieces. There was a lot of collaboration. We use our strengths to help each other.
Have you ever competed with each other?
John: I was a bit intimidated because she got a job before me.
Maruchi: I could hardly speak any English, so I brought my portfolio in for an interview. I was flailing my hands and trying to explain my work, which was all class work, not real work, and I got the job.
How did you start your business?
John: It was Coca-Cola Clothes. A friend who was involved in fashion gave me a referral because they needed graphics for the new line of clothing. We started doing freelance work that turned into repeat business, which became the basis for our business. I realized I couldn’t both freelance and work full-time so I quit, and I called Maruchi and told her that she had to quit, too, because there was no way I was going to do this on my own. I like collaborating too much.
Maruchi: Right away we got incorporated, found a lawyer, and had a business planner. We took the risks and went for it.
John: Maruchi has always been a good sales person. I’m more of a good convincer. We say, ‘She sets ‘em up and I knock ‘em down.’ That sales and marketing thing has just been a part of our business and our success.
Maruchi: We had to know how to sell it.
What would you each say the other brings to the company?
John: I had the logic. She got excited about things. The stuff that fails are the things Maruchi isn’t excited about. She's the heart and she’s never been wrong.
How do you separate your work from your personal lives?
John: The best thing about being married to your partner is when you’re out on a weekend or anywhere and you see something, you can say…’hey, look at that, this would be perfect for that project.’ You can brainstorm together.
Maruchi: Having kids is great. We focus test with them constantly. We bring home a project and ask their opinion, and they’re always the most honest. They are very much in-tune with what we do.
John: You marry up with your opposite, in business and in life. She always tried to talk to people about what we were working on, ask their opinion. I use to think they wouldn’t understand, but I’ve learned that asking non-designers what they think really helps us get it right.
Do you have any advice for any other artistic couples trying to live a creative life together?
Maruchi: No egos. This is not about ‘you,’ this is about ‘we”. You have to think of ways we can do it together. Often people who work with us don’t know that we are a couple or married.
John: I take that as a big compliment.
Maruchi: Your private life stays in your private sphere. We work together as a business and we have to respect each other in that way. If it doesn’t work, don’t try to make it work. Get out of it. You also need passion and to love what you do.
I graduated with a B.S. in Art Education in 1963 and an M.F.A. in 1965. My years at Pratt and living in the Clinton Hill neighborhood were some of the best years of my life. Now that I’m 65 I guess I’m qualified to respond to your call for comments.
In my freshman year I worked with and got to know Philip Pearlstein, Jacob Lawrence, and George McNeil and over the next five years had opportunities to work with many other significant artists of our time. I was very saddened to read about Leon Polansky in this recent edition. He was a wonderful teacher and left me with many lasting impressions.
I went to school with some of the most talented people imaginable including Bob Siegel and Mal Holzman who have gone on to great professional success. (We were fraternity brothers!) I remember assisting so many architectural students when they were on charette and preparing for a major presentation.
I was one of a hundred male students that lived in the building on DeKalb Avenue that is now the bursar's office. I was in room 205. At that time the boys lived on one side of the campus and the girls had the same building on the Willoughby side of the campus. Every Friday I'd watch as the campus emptied, the commuters left, and we'd have free range of the studios.
I’ve recently retired after over forty years in the NYC school system. I taught studio art and then became a supervisor of art and music at Brooklyn’s John Dewey High School. Currently I am a field supervisor and staff developer for Region 5 of the NYC Department of Education (one day a week), a field supervisor of art student teachers for Teachers College, Columbia University, and a field supervisor of art student teachers for Queens College, City University of New York.
The question posed in the Prattfolio was about sustaining creative spirit, inspiration and involvement. I returned to painting about ten years ago and find that I’m being more productive, enthusiastic, and open to new ideas then ever before. I feel like I’m enjoying a new energy that had been exhausted by the many years in the classroom. I resent some of my new professional responsibilities, especially when they take me away from my painterly work. In the summer I sit on the beach in Coney Island and paint the sunbathers. I don’t show my work nor have I sold anything, but what matters is doing it again. In the winter I’ve been able to establish goals and challenges to keep me engaged. I try to paint every day.
My thoughts about Pratt Institute have always been positive and I’ll occasionally walk through the campus and have lunch at Mike’s (it used to be Paul’s). I miss Jake’s and Charlie’s but continued to buy my art supplies there for many years.
Age is no deterrent to creativity.
I’m pushing 80 and painting up a storm. This past year I completed over 30 oils, 27 of which were featured in a two-man exhibition of abstract art this May and June.
The creative spirit does not die with age.
Thirty years ago, I had no time to paint—the advertising business was so demanding and all consuming. Now, in retirement, it’s complete freedom of expression. No client demands, deadlines or disappointments.
Yes, the creative fire is still active and well. And, as long as I don’t see my name in the 1950 obituaries column of Prattfolio…I’ll keep on painting!
Modest, Measurable, Meaningful Marks
Many of those featured in the Pratt Alumni material are those in the “illustrious” category. I am writing to represent the many who are “illustrative” of the use we have made of our good Pratt training for life in the Arts and in the community at home and abroad!
I began the first summer following graduation in 1947 by painting a whimsical mural of Beach Life on one of the walls of my parent’s summer home on Lake Erie in Canada. Wonderful Toronto beckoned in the fall, and I progressed to the prestigious Firm of Brigden’s Inc. One whole floor was devoted to Eaton’s catalogue! But I and another blooming artist were assigned to one of the tiny studios in the advertising department. Fred Brigden used to tour ALL the studios in his three-piece tweed suits, complete with gold watch chain and fob, every Friday. He was close to Canada’s Group of Seven landscape painters and we were awed by his presence. Besides my job, I did a series of whimsical drawings of teen activities for my art director’s daughter. Freelancing provided an opportunity to do “spots” for two Canadian magazines and some fashion drawings for newspapers.
The big leap into married life led us to Princeton where I did weekly spots for a tiny, unique shop in town and also began the lifelong habit of doing artwork for charitable causes. Three years and two children later, we embarked on a ship for the Middle East and assignment to the most easterly city in Iran, the Holy City of Meshed, second only to Mecca for Shiite Muslims, where we were attached to the Presbyterian Hospital.
I used my work extensively with woman and children who had few advantages and whose lives were very bleak. Later in Teheran, teaching at a girl’s school, it was also a real challenge to use art to enrich and nourish life beyond paper and paint. I learned more then they did! And they enriched my life immeasurably. Inspiring and surely meaningful! Returning to life “state-side,” having lost all our freight (including art materials) and needing to furnish an old manse (clergy residence) on the Niagara River I began to design and make working drawings for my husband to build what we needed. I didn’t get those skills in Foundation Year! Chests of drawers, end tables, dinning table, sideboard, scones, frames—and he and I are still at it! Ah Art!
There have been years of house portraits, church publications, greeting cards, art for numerous fund raisers and special events, but the most gratifying investments of art interest have been the years of activity with our four children (and now “grands”) and their friends and teaching Calligraphy and Sketch to Enjoy for 10-plus years in a local school Continuing Ed program, where I had the great pleasure to inspire people who had often been casualties of the “paint by within the lines and be sure the trees are green” approach. I remember crying with joy when a man in his 70s drew a beautiful tree and said, “I haven’t drawn anything in 60 years!!
Memories of Pratt? Emerson Place? Is that right? Miss Gilbert, a proper New Englander took five girls to room and 12 to board. She sat at a separate table by the window and headed the gym department. One of those 12 boarders at the Brooklyn brownstone took “that poor little Canadian” home to American Thanksgiving and married her off to her brother! My sister-in-law was in the Home Ec school and her father (my father-in-law) Albert Stratton was a graduate of the Engineering school in the same class as the designer of Lindbergs’ Spirit of St. Louis. I graduated from the Art School in Illustration and some of my most treasured memories are of exemplary and inspiring teachers and their true reverence for life. Bravo!! I salute you, Dear Pratt! And all who are prepared (and prepare others) to go out and make this world a better place by your presence and your integrity in it.
How did I get to Pratt? I was in Toronto for my final interview and to be measured for my uniform for the School of Nursing at the University of Toronto. We had an hour to “while away” before the appointed hour and stopped into an Art Gallery, where I saw some work similar to something I had done. There was no one else in the place and the owner engaged us in conversation and asked me about my plans for my future. That was the era, remember, when most women were teachers, secretaries, or nurses before they became brides! She looked a bit shocked and asked if I had considered art school, gave me Pratt’s address, and urged me to apply. I sent off the portfolio requirements of that era and went off to Algonquin Park in the North Country to be a camp counselor for the summer. Midway through camp my parents telephoned (no one phoned then unless someone had died!) saying a letter from Pratt had come and should they open it? YES!! “Well, you’re accepted!” What to do about Toronto Nursing—it was a very hard school to get into, and one would certainly think twice (maybe thrice) about jumping ship. There were a slew of doctors in my father’s family and he noted, “The nurse is always the doctors vassal; wouldn’t it be rather exciting to go to New York?” New York!! Brooklyn! After looking at several places on the list of “approved” boarding houses (and some that weren’t), we were about to call it off when a call came in that “one of Miss Gilbert’s girls will not be returning” so I became one of her five girls—and the day was saved. One can never tell what will happen when one stops by at a gallery to “while away some time.”
Those were three grand years at Pratt, and as I said at the beginning, I have been able to make good use of all that I received—
Line, plane, volume, value, texture, color, space, Yeah! I salute you!
As I looked eastward over the ocean this morning, a streak of shimmering silver glistened at the horizon, separating two translucent grays of sea and sky. "Come see," I called to my husband as I delighted in the scene before me. A painting? A photo? Whatever its resolution, a dramatic composition lay right before my eyes. I thank my Pratt education that trained my eyes to observe, appreciate, and translate both the subtle and flamboyant designs of life. I believe I see more nuances of color, design, texture, light and shadow, than many other persons, untrained in art, who might walk past the scene I have just described. Back in the '50s, in my early years of teaching art, I hoped to transfer such sensitivities to my students. "Come see," I would encourage. Now, as an older artist, I incorporate what I have experienced into my printmaking or into other creative expressions.
How do I keep the creative spirit thriving? By following those impulses that make me want to pick up a pen, brush, pencil, clay, or possibly a twig dripping in paint. By joining art workshops, visiting galleries and museums, being open to current art trends, entering juried shows, and keeping my eyes wide open to the world around me - these activities spark the creative spirit. And most of all, by continuing the joy of what once inspired me to pursue an art career at Pratt in the first place, I keep the spirit alive. Pratt Institute of the '50s gave me an excellent foundation; it was the important first step in my career. As my involvement in art continued over the years, I began to realize that breaking the rules seemed as important as following them. Richard Diebenkorn once commented, "Tolerate chaos." Finding a surprise element in my work as an artist became an important goal, and the thought that nothing is too precious to eliminate or change became my mantra. Of course, risk taking can result in innovative works of art, but I'll admit, it can also result in your "masterpiece" being relegated to the collage bin or trashcan! A creative life should never end. It's much like an extra appendage that one carries around forever. It defines who you are.
The smell of Pratt studios: It's a sublime mix of plasticene clay and the floor-sweeping compound. A few years back, I took my husband for a walk through the campus. We went to the studios building and it was as if time had stood still—the first thing that greeted us was that smell. Upstairs in the ID rooms, the student work was strewn about: there were the same projects that we did 20 years earlier. Very cool. It made me want to come back and get my hands dirty.
My favorite places were just off campus: Charlie's (Institute artists materials) and Eric's Bar. As a hardware and supply freak, I worked for Charlie for several years and loved all the million items he had in inventory. Eric's was a place to relax and talk, something really necessary after charetting as an architecture student.
I'm 71 and have not stopped leading an active creative life for the 48 years since I graduated from Pratt Architecture.
Since I reached 65 (a meaningless number) I work three days a week as director of real estate development for the University of Maryland in downtown Baltimore —no tie or suit jacket.
As a 40-year resident of Columbia, Maryland I'm an active resource helping plan the development of downtown Columbia, the new town I helped plan and design for Jim Rouse back in the 1960s.
With the support of an architects committee that I formed, I was successful in getting the county government to establish a Design Advisory Panel to review urban design, architecture, and landscape architecture projects.
I'm also pursuing the historic preservation of Columbia's icon—the Lakefront Promenade and it's four defining buildings, two by Frank Gehry.
I continue to tweak to improve the house and landscape that my wife and I live in and that I designed and built 40 years ago in Columbia.
I do pro bono work for my synagogue for which I designed and built an expansion for a day school, chapel, and stained glass. Currently I am designing a community gathering building and directing the development of the remaining site for senior housing.
I've found time to pursue watercolor painting, mostly townscapes—and more recently making abstract mixed-media and acrylic collages, all of which I've exhibited in galleries in the Baltimore-Washington area.
My inspiration to keep very active and creative came from my dad, my grandfather, and three great men I've worked for—developer Jim Rouse, Mayor/Governor William Donald Schaeffer, and "Mr. Baltimore" Walter Sondheim—all of whom worked into old age.
Prattfolio’s invitation really caught my attention. Since I am fast approaching my 80th birthday, that should qualify my thoughts.
Often, when I’m discussing or showing my art, people ask, “Have you painted all your life?” My answer to that is, “Not yet.” As long as I can see and hold a brush, I will be painting and feel that art is not just what I do, but what I am.
Since the subjects I painted were people, show horses, and hunting or show dogs, it took many years of discipline and study to learn my subjects and have some success. Now I call on these years to allow me, with some authority to create with these same subjects new visions with a freshness of feeling.
After graduation in ’52, I took some evening classes in portrait painting, mostly with Walter Klett. He gave the most memorable critique in just four words. “You need more poetry.” I am still working on this today. Working in my studio, I sometimes glance around and look at the many canvases that are stretched and toned and get inspired with just the anticipation of what could be created on that space.
Since I am still healthy in body, mind, and spirit, the years are not closing down, but are opening up.
Forty years ago my inspiration was probably involved with sales so that my wife, Beth, and I could care for our five children until they got through with college, were grown up and gone. We still have a lot to do with our seven grandchildren, but not nearly with the same intensity.
How thoughtful of you to contact alumni 65 and OLDER. At 73, I hope I am not over qualified.
I went through the Art Ed program and taught, very happily, from 1959 until now (just retired) in a small college in Vermont.
What inspires me is just about everything, but what keeps me going is the Pratt work ethic, instilled years ago by Charles Robertson, Vince Roy, Bess Tucker, Richard Lindner, Stanley Meltzoff, and many more.
I graduated with Tomie dePaola and Anita and Paul Lobel, but I was a very shy Vermont kind, too shy to enter their circle. Yet I have always kept a poster of Tomie’s for Ibsen’s The Wild Ducks, a graceful hand holding a feather.
Tomie’s nephew Rob showed up in one of my classes, and I drew a portrait of him holding one of his uncle’s caramel popcorn canisters.
On this note, people inspire me. I still do many portraits, but I’m also very much of an ecological artist. My recent series involves bicycle gears and chains. A series before that, the glorious colors of detergent bottles; we might as well learn to live with it…
To come to the point, Pratt encouraged me to always be prepared with a fresh thought or project to share with students.
I have spent my life this way and it goes on into retirement.
I find no problem sustaining a creative life in my old age. It’s the only way of life I know.
When I started Pratt in 1944 I had little confidence in myself and wanted to quit. Wonderful teachers urged me to continue. They said art talent wasn’t just doing fabulous painting in life class; imagination and ingenuity were important, too. They made me feel I had that talent. Such encouragement shaped my life.
After graduating, earning a living became a reality. I married a graphic designer. We established our own art studio working on a wide variety of projects including books, product lines, promotion and such. Long hours and deadlines left little time for my own work but I was able to explore various techniques.
By 1990 I retired from commercial art to care for my ailing spouse. I turned to crafts and sold at craft fairs and local shops.
One does not retire from art. For me it was just a change of techniques. Lately, I have enjoyed doing wood assemblage of found objects inspired by Cornell and Nevelson. The shape of the wood determines the piece. Over time I have acquired a shop full of discarded bedsteads, pepper mills, chairs, and so on, all in various stages of disassemble, ready to be used. Enclosed are a couple photos to show my work. Now, at my age it becomes necessary at times to hire a pair of strong hands to do some sawing or turning a recalcitrant screw, but most of the work I do myself. Pieces tend to be less ambitious in size though.
I am 82 now and work in my studio or workshop almost every day. I can’t imagine not keeping busy. There is a stash of sketches of ideas I plan to do someday. Ideas come faster than I can develop them. I’ve never accomplished anything notable, but I’ve had a good life as an artist and it continues. Pratt helped make it possible. Thank you.
Pratt’s historic standing in the community is without a doubt responsible for the local urban renaissance, but it’s not a particular place that reminds me the most of my experience at Pratt: It’s the happiness and enthusiasm I see in the faces of the students and faculty. There’s a spirit of excitement and anticipation of serious young professionals about to embark on their dream careers. I can see it’s still there as I remember.
I'm a gray-haired ‘59er. This past weekend was spent with the Starwood's. David Starwood graduated with me...both of us were in Advertising Design. Of course—it never fails. The talk inevitably, at some point, swings back to our Pratt days. He wondered if that little coffee shop on the corner was still there. I told him that, yes, several years ago when I visited Pratt, it was still there. In fact, Prattfolio had just mentioned it in the summer edition (p. 4-5).
I lived in an abandoned building on Ryerson Street. How surprising to find the street had vanished.
I worked on Madison Avenue the old fashioned way, going from one agency to another.
But the story I may have missed was this. I left The Art Institute of Chicago for the Navy. The Korean War was heating up, and the draft board was hot on my behind. I finished "boot" and reported to the U.S.S. Delta in San Diego. The Delta, a WWII relic was being refitted by a bunch of Reservists who were itching to finish the job and go home. They finished, went home, and we went to Korea.
Christmas four years later: I'm in Ralph's Art Store. During the holidays it’s very deserted around Pratt. Ralph is waiting on me and it went something like this:
Ralph: "I see you're not going home for the holidays?"
"Texas is too far, Ralph. But I will be hunting in the Adirondacks for deer."
Ralph: “What kind of gun?” And then "You're a vet? What branch?”
"Navy."
Ralph: "I was in the Navy, too. What ship?"
"U.S.S. Delta. You probably never heard of the old lady, Ralph."
Ralph: "Are you kidding? The AR-9, I recommissioned that ship. Captain Harrison....”
To bring this to a close, we were both very much surprised. There followed a wonderful friendship for the rest of my Pratt days. Not to say that my art supplies were not generously rewarded.
Thank you for your "ear." Again, I look forward to the next edition of Prattfolio. As we used to say on Madison Avenue when saluting an exceptionally good ad, "It works hard."
Pratt was probably different than it is now in the area of student meeting places and facilities. I do not remember any real “student union” of the kind that most schools have. There were more off-campus meeting places that were attached at the hip to the Pratt campus like Joe’s Place Restaurant, located in an old carriage house on Waverly Street in an alley near the campus. It was operated by an incredible man called Joe Yaccarino, an Italian boy from the neighborhood, whose father and brothers had an Italian restaurant on Myrtle Avenue. He actually later married a Pratt student named Nancy, and had two children. Joe employed many Pratt students as waiters working their way through school. I spent many an evening dining there with Pratt friends and dates, while listening to operatic music flowing from the kitchen, where Joe cooked for all his neighborhood regulars and friends.
As far as the campus goes, I lived in Willoughby Hall for the first semester until I found an off-campus apartment in Grand Army Plaza near Prospect Park. I enjoyed the campus especially during the fall and spring seasons when the trees near Main Building and the library were in full foliage. Probably the most memorably unique place I visited and photographed on campus was the old Pratt power plant building interior.
I still have quite a few photographs of Joe, his restaurant, and the Pratt neighborhood available for a story about this incredible character, and lifelong friend. He passed away about 10 years ago.
At my current age of 82 years, I look at life differently than I did 10 or 20 years ago. The most important thing at this time in my life, physical and mental health, has become a creative endeavor in itself. Until a few years ago I continued to practice design as partner in a design firm. I also continued part time teaching, and even now I serve at times on design juries for the architecture and design program at the University of Massachusetts.
About 10 years ago I decided to redirect my creative and intellectual life. I have become very active in our regional Life Long Learning association, which is affiliated with the area’s Five Colleges. I just completed the presidency of the organization, with a major public conference on “Creative Aging” held during my tenure. Our group of approximately 260 members holds peer-led seminars on subjects from literature, to history, to science, to art, and just about any topic. I have led and taken many seminars and find satisfaction as well as challenge in doing that.
I also do a good deal of volunteer work, including service on the board of our Fine Arts Center, serving on a special committee for the university gallery, and serving as a volunteer Foster Care reviewer for the Department of Social Services.
I try to keep fit by playing tennis two to three times a week all year long, taking walks, and still traveling two or three times a year.
Many people move to this area to retire here. In our Five College area we have almost daily concerts, performances, films, lectures, and art exhibitions. Those, who like me take advantage of these offerings, tend to sustain a healthier and happier retirement than those who sit at home doing nothing or watching television. Perhaps my lifestyle is not a “creative life” in the conventional definition of the expression. But getting older in reasonably good health with no decline in mental capacity is to my mind a successful and creative way of life.
Harry Becker, Bachelor of Industrial Design, ’68, and William Cumpiano, Bachelor of Industrial Design, ’68, have been friends since they first met 44 years ago at Pratt in 1964. Together they founded Becker & Cumpiano, a custom guitar making and repair shop, located in Northhampton, Massachusetts.
Where were you born?
HB: I was born in Brooklyn, N.Y. in 1946. I grew up in a tenement apartment above a grocery store that my mother and father operated with my aunt and uncle. I did well in public schools and gained admission into Brooklyn Technical High School, possibly the finest high school in New York City, where I began training in industrial design.
WC: I was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico in 1945 of mixed-heritage parents. My mother is a Boston native and my father is Puerto Rican.
How did you get to Pratt?
HB: I and a number of my classmates from Brooklyn Tech got accepted into Pratt. It was the best place to go if you wanted to be an industrial designer.
WC: I always loved to draw. As a young kid I wasn’t interested in sports, and I used drawing as a way to entertain myself. My initial interest was in airplanes and since my mother was an academician, she encouraged me to study aeronautical engineering, so I began college at Tufts in Boston. This experience proved that I wasn’t as good at math as I was at art. After failing a few classes, I decided to pursue industrial design and transferred to Pratt. I think the home test is what got me in.
When did you two first meet?
HB: Bill and I met during our first year at Pratt in the foundation classes. We were both majoring in industrial design.
WC: As I remember, we met at the Granada Hotel, one of Pratt’s resident halls. Our first year we weren’t roommates, but we lived down the hall from each other. After that year, the Granada was closed down, and for the next four years Harry and I became roommates and moved to various apartments around the Pratt area with our friend Bob Baker.
Did you socialize around Pratt?
HB: We were at Pratt during the mid-1960s and we were very much a part of the Bohemian scene that was going on at that time. We would go to Erik’s, the local saloon on DeKalb, and also to the art stores, Jake’s and Charlie’s. The art stores were places you could always run into your friends. Diagonally across the street from the DeKalb Avenue gates was a restaurant that was a true "greasy spoon." Like the tavern Eric's down on DeKalb, we would go there to have coffee, smoke cigarettes, and talk art. When we wanted to eat out fancy we would go to Junior's, the great old restaurant on Fulton and Flatbush.
WC: Yes, we did! There was a whole scene of students who lived in apartments around the campus, and we all hung out together. I also remember going to Junior’s down on Flatbush and to Gage & Tollner’s if you wanted to really impress a date.
What is your favorite memory from your time as students at Pratt?
HB: I took an elective at Pratt—fencing—that was not the typical Pratt course. This class was held in the basement of what is now the architecture building on Lafayette. At the end of the semester, our teacher had students from all the classes compete against one another to determine which one was the best fencer. The teacher was never pleased with me, because I didn’t use the technique he taught. Instead I used my Brooklyn street skills and ended up being the winner out of all the classes.
WC: I remember always working continuously to please the professors. They were very hard on us students and we just wanted their recognition.
How long after you met did you start your business?
WC: After graduating from Pratt, I entered the industrial design world in Manhattan. I worked for Knoll in the Special Orders Department. After a while I realized I didn’t want to work in an office and under someone else’s supervision, so I quit and began taking a class in guitar making. That class was the start of the rest of my career.
HB: By the early 1970s, I had moved to Massachusetts and opened a bike shop. Around 1974, Bill moved to the town as well and opened the Stringfellow Guitar Studio. I became a professional guitar repairman alongside him while still working at the bike shop. It wasn’t really until 13 years ago, in 1995, that Bill and I became official partners and opened Becker and Cumpiano Guitarmakers in Northhampton, Mass.
Have you ever collaborated on a project?
HB: A couple of times! One year we were employed to make a prototype for an invention a friend of ours had developed: a silicone chip reading device. We made the most beautiful little box out of ebony, with a series of mirrors inside to allow the machine to read the chip. We were also once commissioned to make a wooden architectural model of a hospital that was under construction in the late ’70s.
WC: We collaborate all the time! Becker and Cupiano is in itself a collaboration; we make decisions together on a daily basis.
Have you inspired each other’s artwork in any way?
HB: Oh yes, Bill and I are great fans of each other! I’m a musician and often Bill would sit in on my performances. He would play the bongos on the side of the stage as I performed. We have always been musical partners and fans of each other’s focus and individual work. Both of us were trained at Pratt under the same Bauhaus school of thought that stresses sensibility, simplicity, and elegance. I have been most inspired by the work Bill has done with the Puerto Rican cuatro guitar, for example.
What does Pratt mean to your relationship?
HB: Freedom of thought and exposure to diversity. Pratt was an oasis that allowed me to fulfill myself, it exposed me to an alternative way of looking at things, and it gave me the license to think differently and be supported by intelligent, freethinking individuals from all walks of life.
WC: It is the birth of our relationship, the cement. Pratt is what we have as our common philosophical foundation.
Have you ever competed with each other?
HB: I think Bill and I are simply not competitive people. We find cooperation to be more productive and fulfilling. We even shy away from using words like ‘best’ or ‘better.’ Only once that I can remember were there ever feelings of jealousy. During our Foundation year at Pratt, Bill and I had Rowena Reed Costello for a sculpture class. All the students were scared of her; you really wanted her approval of your work. When I completed my first salt block sculpture, Rowena asked if she could have it and put it on her desk. This was one of the highest honors, for Rowena to want my work for her desk. Whenever I mentioned this, Bill would smile and say he was jealous.
WC: I believe our relationship is void of competition.
What is the best part about being artists and being partners in a business?
WC: Our skills are synergistic and complementary. Because we are both artists it is a multiplier to the work we do; we enhance each other and it makes our business more unique.
How, if at all, do you separate your work from your personal lives?
HB: It is all intertwined. When Bill and I get together there is a unique feeling of comfort. We’ve had a friendship for over 44 years. That’s a lot of history. At one point we were apart for 15 years. When we reconnected, we were both older and grayer and time had given us substance. It’s a great feeling to have someone around who knew you then and knows you now. We love getting together. Our friendship is not much different from a marriage; there are things you just understand about the other.
What would you say has been the key to making your relationship work over the years?
HB: Two things: respect and patience. Bill and I respect each other. We want to be near each other. I feel honored to be friends with him. I use him as a model point and I am inspired by him. In regard to patience, Bill and I both know that is it our business, we are in this together. If one sinks, the whole ship sinks. It is a team effort and that means we have to listen and be patient with each other.
WC: Tolerance. Harry works around my craziness, and I work around his. We don’t expect anything from each other but are very loyal to one another. It truly is an ideal marriage: Through our friendship and business partnership, we share a mutual admiration for one another.
How did Pratt (an art education) shape your future?
HB: I think Pratt is a great institution not only because it produces great artists and designers but also, and perhaps more importantly, because it trained me to be a creative and effective problem solver, to think outside the box and to be an original.
WC: Pratt helped me to realize that I didn’t want to work in an office.
