2019-20 Fifth Avenue Review

2019-2020

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Dear Readers,

Special Thanks to Mr. T.K. Griffith, for making this magazine possible The entire administration of Archbishop Hoban, for their full support All of the artists, writers, for their talents The entire 5th Avenue Review Editorial Staff, especially Mia Gallagher, Olivia Scott, Ellie Hardman, Andrew Hardman, Sawyer Huckabee, Brianna Foster, Kolby Adams, Isabelle Kolleth, Veronica Savitski, Alex Coleman, Rachel Rice, Trent Suckling, and Veronica McDowell All Hoban parents, for their continued support of Hoban’s Education of the Heart and Mind And all the readers, for supporting Hoban’s arts and writing We thank you all.

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Thank you for choosing to read Hoban’s literary and visual art magazine, the 5th Avenue Review. We are all so excited for you to see all of the work our Hoban students have submitted this school year. This collection of beautifully created art and carefully crafted poetry and prose embody the artistic spirit of the Hoban student body. All of us on the editorial staff have enjoyed viewing all of the submissions this year, being moved and affected by each one of these pieces. We hope you have the same opinions we do on the amazing works throughout this magazine. We are thankful to each and everyone of the creators who have submitted their work this year. Art and writing are such important skills and talents that so often get lost in the stress of our lives. This magazine is our opportunity to reconnect with art and all of the emotions and skill that surrounds it. Especially in this time of uncertainty, the messages and beauty of these works will bring light to this shadow COVID-19 has cast. Maybe you will find a piece of art you connect with or a poem that changes your perception—the possibilities are endless! If anything, let these works positively affect the way you look at this uncertain time and the world we will live in as a result of it. Thank you to all of the people who have made this magazine possible this year: Mr. Griffith, Dr. Ramos, the faculty and staff, the members of the 5th Avenue Review staff, and each of our artists and writers. Without them, this magazine would not have been possible. And thank you, readers, for supporting Hoban’s artists and their works. Now, put some music on, kick back, relax and enjoy reading our 5th Avenue Review!

Sincerely, 5th Avenue Review Editorial Staff

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This year, the 5th Avenue Review staff decided to add a themed section to the magazines pages. We believed that having such a section would not only challenge artists to create outstanding pieces, but to create a message that evokes strong feelings and images for you, the reader. This year, we decided to go with the theme, Oddly Familiar. This theme calls to mind the words or images that always seem to escape us in thought, but we recall feelings and emotions associated with them. Each of our artists do not disappoint and deliver and interpret this theme beautifully and masterfully. We have picked 3 art pieces which embody this Oddly Familiar theme fully within their piece, weaving in aspects of thier imagination and real life.

The Two Graces by Isabelle Hahn Things by Maddy Owen

Ocean Eyes by Kaliyah Smith

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art g a n n d i t d r a n w i i ng a p

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Kaliyah Smith, Class of 2020

“ Throughout my life, Art was never important to me un-

til I came to Hoban. I took beginning art and fell in love with everything art related. Making art is something that I do on a regular basis now and I cannot imagine my life without it. It is something that I truly have a passion for and Hoban has helped me learn that. I am also majoring in Studio Art in College to begin a career in this field.

When coming up with the idea for this project, I really wanted to incorporate constellations into this piece.

I was listening to a song that had the lyrics “he studied my freckles like the constellations” and the perfect idea clicked in my head. The first thing that you see when you look at my friend, Jesse, is his freckles, so he was the perfect candidate. His freckles remind me of the stars, which is also why the background is like the galaxy.

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Constellations 7

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Isabelle Hahn, Class of 2021

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It’s fascinating to see how brilliant sculptors capture motion in stone, and The Winged Victory of Samothrace is one of the ultimate embodiments of this. I was always tempted to draw the sculpture, but to render such an incredible, larger-than-life image in mere graphite seemed almost disrespectful—even a photorealistic portrayal could never do it justice. When our Drawing class was presented with the repetitive marking project, however, I saw an opportunity to portray this familiar image in a new way, one that would capture the same sense of motion in an entirely different manner. So, here is an ink rendering composed exclusively of the letter S, the initial that best replicates the rippling movement hewn into the statue.

(Although, if you look at it for too long, it does start to feel like the drawing is aggressively hissing at you.) This piece itself is no masterpiece of a sculpture, but it does pay tribute to one that is.

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The Winged Victory of S. 10

Maddy Owen, Class of 2020

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Art has been the one thing to completely change my outlook on the world around me. In our every day lives, we encounter and often overlook so many individual colors unknowingly. As I discovered my love for painting throughout high school, I began to notice these colors and the impact they had on mood, causing me to choose “Mood Through Color” as my AP Concentration this year.

My painting “Blue Cafe” is based on my own photo taken of a bakery on the first floor of a hotel in Chicago. I wanted to convey my own mood felt when standing in the bakery, surrounded by the vibrant blue color with accents of bright orange and yellow. These colors matched with the buzz of the city and my excitement and love for it, and this piece remains one of my absolute favorites that I have completed.

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Blue Cafe 12

Clone Helmet

In the Wake of Battle

Max Caiazza

Max Caiazza 13

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RD5

Through the Eyes of Nature

Max Caiazza

Max Caiazza 15

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On the Fence

Plateau

Grace Gallagher

Grace Gallagher 17

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Logic’s #1

Logic’s #2

Zoie Gilliam

Zoie Gilliam 19

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Eyes on the Future

Natural Beauty

Zoie Gilliam

Zoie Gilliam 21

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Faรงade

Inside Out

Zoie Gilliam

Zoie Gilliam 23

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Severus

Lion of Judah

Isabelle Hahn

Isabelle Hahn 25

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Dissection

Iris

Isabelle Hahn

Isabelle Hahn 27

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Off With His Head

Stone Madonna

Isabelle Hahn

Isabelle Hahn 29

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Metamorphosis

Billie Eilish

Isabelle Hahn

Marissa Kell 31

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Regret

Two Angelinas

Marissa Kell

Maddy Owen 33

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Candy

Shrimp

Maddy Owen

Maddy Owen 35

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Portal

Taxi

Maddy Owen

Kaliyah Smith 37

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Teigan Franjesh

Divine Providential

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Jacob Hier

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In a series of comics, Teigan Franjesh and Jacob Hier illustrate Mr. T.K. Griffith’s tear-jerking story of his dentist, and how Divine Providence ultimately weeved its way in.

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writing poetry & prose

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“Quarantined”

Ian Davey, Class of 2021

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Writing to me is primarily an outlet, it allows me to put my frustrations somewhere. I wrote quarantine as a response to the changes in the world around me. People attempting to adapt to a new normal fascinates me. I couldn’t help but hope that isolation would compel people to do some heavy introspection. The poem is a simple commentary on the human condition following the abolition of distractions that act as a scapegoat for examining one’s life.

And hopefully in this examination people might realize that modern distractions, cultural constructs, and enforced normalcy brought isolation to most of us long before the stay at home order ever did.

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We are all alone but what has changed Stuck in home The loneliness strange Nowhere to roam This house a cage Nowhere to go But still somehow the same

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“isolation” Eden Nicholson, Class of 2022

the same four walls, the same six doors the same five windows, the same grey floors

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Though I’m not usually very public about my writing, I love to write poetry on my own time. Writing is both therapy and a creative outlet. The power behind writing is so exhilarating to me that I can’t help but try to imitate that.

Even the smallest of subjects have so much capability if you simply look at them in a different perspective. Not many people learn to truly read “inside the lines,” so to be able to put those words there myself is really special.

“Isolation” was inspired by the stress and solitude that has come from COVID-19. The pandemic seemed to come out of nowhere and to have our whole lives flipped upside down was, to say the least, crazy. With all this fear and uncertainty, I needed a way to give myself hope from everything I was hearing on the news. After searching, I found the idea that gave me the most hope was the nature both around me and around the world. Just the idea that each new day is different and that quarantine won’t last forever eases my nerves. Hopefully, my poem can spread that message and that hope to those who read it.

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stores are empty, roads are bare businesses closing, all to prepare yearning for school and for our friends anticipation for when this all will end anxious thoughts and lonely days unspoken words in a foggy haze time is blended, weeks crawl by truthful “schemes” we can’t deny but we’ll stay strong all together one day the world will be better so look to the sky and to the trees notice the good among this disease nature blooming, animals seen our last chance to make the world clean so just hold on as the sickness defies i promise you one day the sun will rise

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“Improbable Similarities”

“Hypocrite”

Ian Davey

Ian Davey

Our brains are so complex Putting conformity in context No one’s mind is truly the same Making any majority a sign of shame Any mass of similar thoughts is simply insane Fearing individuality might endanger common gain Missing the reality That blind alignment is pain Each action has duality The masses sun a minorities rain Blindly backing each others validity stumbling behind their seeing canes Baselessly trusting the hands in their train Only a void of personality will garner trend The enemy of interest the masses only friend Growing indistinct breaking long before they bend Gluing shattered selves into others instead

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Creating divisions But refusing to divide Making decisions Before I actually decide Calling for provisions Refusing ever to provide Instigating collisions Complaining when I collide Crafting coalitions Then refusing to abide Ignoring their ignition Only bothering when they ignite Despising definition But being so quick to define 50

“Real World”

“Gift”

Ian Davey

Ian Davey

There is a bird Deep in the woods Screaming the words You wish you could don’t know if you heard But maybe you should That crow is calling With cries of childhood It’s feathers falling Its caws misunderstood Its harsh waning warning Growing easy to ignore Feel your past burning As you slam the door Imprison your yearning As a prisoner of war

So adorably indecisive Unspoken thoughts so priceless Self image so misguided The world punished by your silence As confidence subsided Maybe we just need some guidance From a reflection so lopsided To one of confident self reliance Your presence leaves me so delighted If only my nice perspective ignited Your dark esteem and helped to light it You are worthy of support so why do you fight it Believe in yourself your great don’t deny it Set low expectations even though you defy them Trusting any critiques not thinking who supplied them Thinking small even

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“Time”

“Story of Writers”

Ian Davey

Mia Gallagher

All the time in the world But how much is that Time is ever marching And puts us all on the same path Doesn’t matter what you do What you believe or who you are Time is moving just as fast And we are all getting just as far No one person can make it last Or control how fast it heals their scar So be sure you’re wearing your cast Even when life gets bizarre Because if you fail that task You’ll leap the iron bar You’ll redefine your past And land in a pit of tar

The words of one who composes are truly unique, Only they create their story with their own critique, The tales may tell of their loss or imposition, Or juxtapose their lives with someone in a different position, The story may focus on love or pain, Or expose other feeling that you may feel the same, The legend may post new questions in your mind, Or twist and transpose your thoughts, in some ways that are not that kind, The apposition of their words tell a tale of their own, And the time and money deposited into their writing is enough to make others moan, And though others may not like their proposals in parchment and ink, And publishers may try to depose their work and ask them to rethink, The writers keep at their sometimes troublesome work, A writer’s work is their own, And they tell a story with its own special tone.

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“Throughout My Time”

“My Laptop Broke”

Mia Gallagher

Isabelle Kolleth

I’ve seen many hardships in my time in this state, I’ve seen human struggles and strives, I’ve seen them through promotes and demotes throughout my life, I’ve felt motion within my walls, And have been torn up and have had many falls, I’ve gazed upon the evolution of technology to produce mobile phones, And have seen inanimate objects get mobility to walk on their own, I remember the day you got me like the back of my tire, And the times when you motivated me when I was ready to retire, I’ve carried your groceries, your purse, and your clothes, And have felt the removal of all of them when you removed the load, And through it all, you thought I was just a device of locomotion, Just another machine able to mobilize your possessions, But I’ve done more than you know, I’ve seen you thrive and grow, And although I’m getting old and weak and frail, I will always be your car, your perfect automobile.

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Oh!, what a dastardly display of incompetence.

A gold-plated herring, below even Herod’s level.

Blame your maker, yet it is your countenance That haunts me to this day, ye’ damned devil.

A deal I made, your help for my dwindling earnings.

With the snake’s promises hissing in my ear Of the apple to satisfy my deepest yearnings.

What sweet promises you made, quelling my fear.

Yet the promised land held the thickest fog indeed!

And your deceit was revealed in all its shame.

You failed at even the simplest tasks I need A scoundrel, playing an unholy and fraudulent game.

God!, if only I had tossed my money down a deep ravine, Rather than having spent it on this fruitless machine.

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“masks”

“Arabella”

Eden Nichelson

Eden Nichelson

what a shame she’s broken they say, a shame she’s insecure cracked and faded, dirty and dull, their whispers overheard

You stand in front, my Arabella Your visage pale and cold You watch me as i study you And watch your life unfold A young girl to a woman, Not yet so long to live

they’re shiny and pristine, all clean and bright but when i tried to be the same, it just didn’t turn out right

Until the dark veil covered your eyes With no more light to give

they have their masks, their carved out smiles completely unaware to their identical styles

Even then you’ve gone to him, And begun the eternal trek

and when i tried to wear the mask it didn’t quite fit so then i wore one different and became the new misfit but what’s so bad about a different mask? or none at all? why must the different withstand a downfall? i ask the question, but society turns not even an echo comes back and returns

Tell me Arabella, did the hand now grasp your neck?

Aching feet forever pained, On a road that never ends I call to my sweet Arabella On love that now transcends You left us now, your color gone, Your message once unclear But I watch you now, etched in stone As the words blink unto here Time moves on, my Arabella, but i hear you in the wind Whispering secrets to those who listen, and know what lies within

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“love is not a choice”

“Open Thoughts”

Eden Nichelson

Gracie Schill

3am, Wide awake, My heart in an earthquake, Breathing heavy, Never steady, Endless thoughts, You put my body into knots, You didn’t care, And seemed unaware, I did matter, But you made me shatter, People say “Follow your heart”, I don’t listen because mine Has fallen apart Which part do I follow, I don’t know There are many pills to try and swallow, Thoughts and actions, Yeah-yours never match, You can’t catch, The definition of love, Because all you ever do it shove, Everyone away, Because in your mind, It’s only your way, I knew you never actually cared, Because it’s 3am, And I feel the tears, Running back into my ears, Thing thoughts that should never be thought, Because when I cared, You were unaware, And dreaming of her, When I wasn’t even in your blur

they tell you that you chose this it’s something to dismiss that in your head, it’s amiss that love is all a choice “you can’t.” they say it’s not a thing at all being gay they think you can’t be this way but love is not a choice

they think it has to be a man for you to follow their “simple” plan no one knows when it began but love was never a choice so what was ever the problem? what could not be seen clear? what stopped one from holding another dear? that people could not see a couple of a gender both the same that it was not holy and satan was to blame that these people weren’t like me; a true disgrace from all society but that’s where they’re wrong why can’t they see? they’re all human beings just like you and me so love who you want and love who you need because love is not a choice

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“your touch”

“The Old and the New”

Gracie Schill

T.K. Griffith

I fell in love With your touch The feel You reveal Your kiss I miss Endless nights Even the fights Your hugs Endless snugs I fell in love With you And you shoved me away like a shoe Pulled me around Like a doll being swung to the ground They came in sessions You had to have possessions Countless bottles Countless cans You weren’t close to a real man Purple bruises Bloody cuts Your fist Struck like a truck You were mad Treated me bad I did nothing But it was all about you It was an addiction But under no condition Could I ever forget about Your touch

It’s this collision of old and new, gold and blue, me and you, Dr Curry Too! Holy cross brand, Upon these Rocks we stand, don’t have a band, Play Man to Man, Got Chipp and Hamm, Yes, we can, Follow the plan, Coach T’s command, We own this land.

New students fill, the seniors’ hill, teachers good will, nurse gives pill, tailgaters grill, Kraus and Jill, Devaughn and Phil, You don’t like my rhyme?, Chill!

Cause the old and new, Stick like glue, St. V WHO?, Grande Cold brew!, I’m tired--whew!

Final Note, let’s chew, It’s coo, We’re Gold and Blue Til Time on earth is thru, We Shall be True to You! Old and New!

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Short Stories

“The Midnight Watchmen” Anonymous

“A Retelling of Artmeis and Actaenon”

Veronica McDowell

“The door leading to the hallway is a dark wood— mahogany perhaps—and the door handle is cool to the touch. As I turn the handle, I call to mind the route to the small music room—an unimpressive place where nobody would expect a safe full of valuables to reside.The entrance to the room is two doors down from the drawing room and across the hall. Running my fingers along the cool, satin-like wallpaper, I walk two doorways to the left and turn to the other side of the hall. Silently, I open the door.”

“Ace couldn’t comprehend the cruelty of his fate. That girl pulled some strings with her father and he was stuck playing dress up for the entirety of sophomore year. For the next year, whenever the basketball team had a game- home or away- he was to be their mascot.

Unbelievable.”

To read the full story, scan this QR Code:

To read the full story, scan this QR Code:

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Thank you To all the contributors, readers, and the whole Hoban community.

Without your support of the Hoban arts, this magazine would not have been possible.

For our final work, the staff compiled evey word from each story and poem into the Hoban emblem, representing our entire community.

After removing common words, we emphasized words which showed up more often.

Thank you for reading!

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